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Ch.3- "Squads"
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"You aren't a real Scout until you come back alive". That was the unofficial rule of the Survey Corps. Die on your first mission, and you're nothing more than an unlucky cadet. The other military branches probably had strict rules regarding how officers rose through their ranks. In the Corps, if you were the only person left alive in your squad, more often than not, you became the de facto leader of that squad. They'd lost thirty eight people in the last expedition alone, nearly eight squads worth. Too many "squad leaders", not enough Scouts to fill their teams. People were shifted around, existing squads dis-and-reassembled to ensure that no one group was left with too many inexperienced soldiers.
Say what he would about the Commander's tactics on the field, Erwin had to admit that Shadis was exceptionally skilled at evaluating a person's strengths and weaknesses and discerning who would best compliment them. He assumed that was why he had been reassigned to the new Squad Twelve, "The Mike Squad", and he was not about to complain. Michaelis Zacharias had been in his final year of the Training Corps when Erwin first joined, and it was no exaggeration to say he somewhat idolized the older cadet, especially in those early days. Knowing that someone so strong, so skilled, was going to join the Survey Corps too made him hopeful, it made him believe that if they all worked hard and trained even harder that, surely, reclaiming the world beyond the walls would be easy.
Not for the first time, he wished he could slap his younger self for such idiocy. When engaging against Titans, one person's strength and skill could be important, but when it came to actually scouting, their entire force was only as strong as their weakest links. Their veterans couldn't gain any ground when they had to double back to help the more inexperienced members, and the newest soldiers couldn't observe how their superiors dealt with threats when they were forced to flee once an Abnormal broke their ranks.
They were a den of rats scattering at the sound of footsteps, and that knowledge filled him with shame as much as it filled him with anger. That anger, and the grief and guilt it carried with it, was what led him to spend what little free time he had studying, and plotting. The library in the Ehrmich base was as massive as it was unorganized, and finding the books he was looking for took longer than reading them. Fortunately, his new room-and-squad mate, William Knudsen, didn't mind the ever growing pile of historical texts he was accumulating, just so long as they didn't spill over onto his side of the room.
"Caravans? The development of settlements within the walls? This is what you read for fun ?"
"Something like that…"
"You need a girlfriend, Erwin…"
A girlfriend? He'd been engaged less than a year ago, until only a few weeks before graduation. Back when he'd spent every night grinding his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, face down in his pillow so his friends couldn't see him crying. Back when he secretly despised Marie for thinking so little of him, thinking he would die so easily when he was the top ranked cadet in the 89th. He envied her now, for being able to see the truth he had been blind to, blinded by his own hubris. The last woman he'd had a real conversation with couldn't even be bothered to wake him up to say a proper goodbye before vanishing from his life. All of his friends from the Training Corps were dead. Interpersonal relationships had no place in his life.
No, he only had room in his mind for one thing now, the one thing that he focused on when the memories of his comrades' screams and terrified faces kept him from sleep, working by moonlight to avoid keeping his bunk mate awake even though his eyes ached from the strain. An artist he was not, but he wasn't trying to make something pretty- the only thing that mattered was functionality. Which lead to a conversation with his new squad mates that might have been awkward if he'd actually cared about things like that.
"Lisa, how loud can you scream?" The brunette woman was two years his senior, but with her big green eyes, she looked like a child. Especially now as she stared at him, eyes even wider, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.
"Uhhh… what…?" She let out an awkward chuckle. The rest of the squad let their conversation die to turn all their attention to their youngest comrade.
"How loud can you scream? Or perhaps I should say 'shout'? If you were to shout right now, how far away would people be able to hear you? I'd appreciate it if all of you could answer that, please." A knife would have a difficult time cutting through the silence that descended over the table.
"Are you, uh… Are you going to murder us, Smith?" Mike asked finally, more incredulous than afraid.
"What? No! Of course not!"
"That's exactly what someone would say before they kill you and eat your hands…" Gerwalt muttered under his breath, the rest of the squad nodding vigorously in agreement.
"What are you drawing, anyway?" Lisa Lowell reached across the table, snatching the paper he had been jotting notes down on before he could process what she'd done. That baby-faced woman was fast- probably why she had fifteen solo kills under her belt. "What is this? Some kind of map for where you plan on hiding our bodies?"
"It's a squad formation, and I haven't memorized all my notes yet, so be careful with it!"
"Squad formation?" Their captain frowned, brushing the hair from his eyes as he took the paper from Lisa. "Commander Shadis didn't tell me anything about a new formation…"
"It's not from him- it's mine."
"Yours?" Four sets of eyes focused on him with pinpoint accuracy, eyes that could spot the smallest opening in a Titan's defenses and slip in for the kill. "Why are you thinking up your own formations?" Mike's voice was quieter even than usual. Erwin's fingers tightened around his pen, the beds of his nails turning white.
" 'Why'? Is that not obvious? Because I'm sick of being sent headlong into the jaws of death!" William scoffed.
"Then you picked the wrong branch, Erwin. That's what the Scouting Regiment does-"
"It shouldn't be! We are the Survey Corps. The Scouting Regiment. Not the 'Throw Our Comrades Into Titans' Mouths Because Someone Doesn't Know The Meaning Of The Words "Tactical Retreat"' Division! What are we surveying; how many bites it takes to get to the center of a human torso!?" 'Shut up...' His mind hissed at him. His comrades were staring at him, people from other tables were staring, too. If the Commander heard what he was saying, he'd probably be given a suspension, or even worse after his write-up for assaulting Green. But in truth, Erwin didn't care. There was no punishment Keith Shadis could come up with that was worse than his own poorly thought out formations.
"I've been on two expeditions, and I've already seen a sixth of our numbers die, and for what? To barely step outside the walls? We can't even retrace our own steps before we're driven back!"
"That's just how things are, Erwin," Lisa's voice was quiet, defeated. "I know how it feels. You come to the Survey Corps thinking, 'Now that I'm here, things will be different'… But they're not. They never are. Nothing ever changes-"
"Why not?"
"Huh?"
"Things change all the time. Decades ago, the Survey Corps didn't fight with ODM gear or detachable blades. We changed how we fought the Titans once, so why can't we change the way we do things again?"
A quiet murmur filled the mess hall, voices blending together into a mass with no distinction, but Erwin was certain he heard "he's right" more than once. For a brilliant second, hope smoldered in his heart, but just as that ember began to grow, it was snuffed out by the crash of a door violently flung open. The windows were all shut, the air within the mess hall humid from the kitchens, the air outside still mild, yet all that warmth was sucked from the room.
"Do my ears deceive me, or do I hear rabble being roused?" Commander Shadis' voice was like an icy hand crawling up his back, ready to rip his spine out wholesale. "Which one of you insubordinates is trying to stir shit up? And don't try to lie to me." Inhaling deeply, the blonde cadet raised his hand, realizing after the fact how stupid that probably looked. "Stand up." Swallowing, he did so, stepping over the bench so he could turn to face the commander and salute. The golden eyes that stared at him from across the room could freeze boiling water, but Erwin did not cower or look away. "Trying to start a mutiny, Smith?"
"Sir! No sir! I was simply venting my frustrations over the losses we incurred during the last expedition, sir!"
"And, what? You think if you had been in charge that we wouldn't have incurred so many losses?" ' Yes…'
"No sir! I simply thought-"
"I don't give a damn what you think, Smith! I've been killing Titans since you were shitting in your diapers. Survive a year and maybe your opinions will be worth something. Until then, keep your frustrations to yourself, and enjoy being on stable duty for the next three months."
Turning on his heel, the Commander stalked out, shutting the door behind him hard enough to rattle their cups. The silence stretched on, seemingly forever, until-
"Awww… I wanted him to get headbutted!" The laughter that followed broke the tension, and just like that, the atmosphere in the mess hall once again grew light and jovial as before. Letting out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, Erwin collapsed onto the bench.
"The Commander's gone- you can stop saluting now," William muttered. When he lowered his, he was certain he felt his joints pop. Three months of stable duty was barely a punishment at all, all things considered. He knew men like Keith Shadis, men who felt they had something to prove. His father taught him long ago that the people who acted the toughest were actually the most afraid inside, and honestly, Erwin had never empathized with a man's fear more. Who wouldn't be afraid of leading a charge against the Titans? The flapping of paper drew him from his thoughts and he blinked, seeing the second draft of his squad formation waving before his eyes.
"What do these symbols mean, Smith?" Mike tapped on the dotted and solid lines intersecting the five naughts he'd arranged in an arch.
"They represent distance, Captain. Maximum and minimum. That was why I was asking how loudly you can shout."
"So…" Gerwalt leaned on his elbow, frowning. "You think we should spread out? Make it easier for the Titans to pick us off one by one?"
"I think we should avoid the Titans all together. That was the point I was trying to make earlier. We spend so much time and manpower fighting a losing battle against them that we barely make any headway actually surveying the land beyond the walls. If we spread out, we can see the Titans from further away, and might actually be able to avoid them." He sighed, pulling his paper back. "Of course, given that we need to be within shouting distance to actually know if one of us spots something, it wouldn't cover that much more ground-"
"That's why we need something with high visibility… like flares."
"Exactly!" Erwin couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. Maybe it was because Mike was younger and not yet entrenched in his ways that he was willing to listen without being derisive. The younger man thought bitterly to his last captain, but that bitterness quickly turned to guilt. Captain Mulligan might have been derisive, but he also made good judgment calls on the field, a judgment call that was probably the only reason Erwin was still alive to think poorly of him. "With smokeshells, we could easily stay upwards of fifteen meters apart- well… we can't, I think that vein in Commander Shadis' temple would pop if we tried something like that, but imagine such a thing on an even greater scale. We could have kilometers of visibility!" The rest of his squad gaped at him, and for a moment, he wondered if they didn't think him mad.
"We wouldn't have to fight every Titan we come across…"
"I mean, the horses are bred to outrun them."
"We could just… complete our objective and come back…"
"Smith," Mike's voice was closer to his ear than he would have liked, but it was clear the taller man was making an effort to not be heard. "Is this a first draft of your plan?"
"No, sir. It's the second. Recently, I've been looking into how the territories in the walls were first settled, namely how they transported goods with caravans while Titans were still a threat. There's not a great deal of information that would be pertinent to our mission, but I'm trying to extrapolate what I can with what I'm given." The captain leaned back with a thoughtful hum.
"Think you can come up with a third draft that takes into account the visibility of flares?" Erwin blinked, taken aback.
"Yes, but… for what purpose? The Commander would never give us leave to waste supplies on a theory."
"He wouldn't give you leave. I'm a captain; I have a bit more pull than you."
"Even if he doesn't," Lisa grabbed his shoulders, turning him the right way around once more. "I still think even changing the way we position ourselves when we ride might be helpful. If we rode in this layout but moved a bit further back, we'd almost all be covering each other's blind spots! You're really smart, Erwin."
"Hey, look at it this way- If Shadis keeps up these suicide charges, you might end up as commander sooner than you think," Gerwalt chuckled darkly, leaning over the table to none too gently ruffle the younger man's hair. "Just make sure you don't die before he does, Smith."
"I'm not planning on it, trust me."
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Stable duty was, by and far, the most unpleasant, backbreaking chore the members of the Survey Corps had to complete, which was why it was usually doled out as a punishment. Shadis clearly intended the three month sentence he'd given Erwin to teach him humility- or at least, to keep his head down- but ultimately, it didn't work the way the commander had wanted. The first month was more than a little humiliating, obviously. More so the snickers of his fellow Scouts than the actual labor itself. Sometimes, his squad mates would come to keep him company after they finished their own chores and training, though they never helped. As Lisa reminded him, if they were caught helping, it would not only get them in trouble as well, but would probably end up tacking another month onto his service. William was more blunt in his reasoning.
"Hey, it's bad enough I have to smell you every night- I don't wanna smell like shit, too..."
That also had to be why Mike avoided him like the plague. Their captain had acquired near urban legend status in the Training Corps for his ability to sniff out everything from storms hours before they even broached the horizon, to exactly what goodies the other cadets' parents sent them down to the number of cookies without so much as glancing at the packages. That talent carried over to, and served well in, the Survey Corps, where he was lauded for his ability to detect where Titans were lurking long before anyone spotted them.
Being in Mike's squad all but guaranteed that you wouldn't be ambushed in the field, but it also meant you were suddenly held to a standard of personal hygiene far surpassing any other Scout. No perfume, no cologne, no scented toiletries of any kind (much to Lisa's constant dismay). And for Erwin, that meant no less than three showers and a change of clothes before he was allowed to sit with the rest of his squad for dinner. Once, he'd decided he smelled fine after scrubbing and rinsing twice, his skin practically raw and his stomach growling like a caged animal. No sooner had he stepped into the mess hall than Mike came charging at him like an Abnormal, bodily picking him up and tossing him back out into the hall.
"What is wrong with you?!"
"Get back in the showers, Smith…!"
He hadn't, out of pettiness, forsaking dinner in lieu of going to bed and cursing under his breath until he fell asleep. He'd clearly bathed adequately- William didn't start griping about the stench of manure as soon as he walked in the room, after all. The rest of his squad agreed; he smelled downright flowery. Which lead him to confront his squad leader a few days after the fact (after practically scalding his skin off).
"You know, Captain, if you hate the smell of horses that much, you probably shouldn't have joined the military branch that uses them the most."
"I don't mind horses."
"...what?" Mike paused from greasing the cables of his ODM gear.
"I mean, they don't smell great, no animal does. But they're… unoffensive. Factories, that's what smells like the devil's asshole. I'd bathe in manure before I willingly set foot in a factory…" Erwin's eyelid twitched as he struggled to keep his voice even.
"Then what's the problem, Captain? If it's so unoffensive, then surely two showers and a change of clothes should suffice-"
"The horse shit's not the problem, Smith; it's you. You specifically." The younger man felt the blood drain from his face.
"Excuse me?" That certainly wasn't his voice that just cracked like a pubescent child, no sir. "Are you saying I stink?"
"No. Well, yes. But-! It's complicated, okay?"
" Then please explain, sir!" Erwin crossed his arms over his chest, genuinely offended and starting to feel more than a little self conscious. ' Oh god, it's puberty all over again…' He was nearly twenty; why was this happening now!? Mike sighed, wiping his hands on the cleaning cloth beside him.
"You, as a whole, don't smell bad, Smith. You don't really smell like… anything. It's actually kind of creepy; I've only ever smelled one person that had less natural odor than you, and that was my eighty year old grandpa."
"Thank you, I suppose?"
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I don't care! Why single me out, then? If it's not the smell of manure, and it's not me-"
"It is you, Smith! It's your… fuckin' secretions, or whatever."
"My what?!"
"When you sweat or drool or- no, I don't wanna think about that- you reek of death." The silence that lapsed between the two men was so absolute that they could hear the other Scouts training in the courtyard… a good twenty meters away. Without another word, Erwin turned on his heel to leave his captain's quarters. "Where're you going, Smith?" There was an uncertainty in Mike's voice that bled into fear.
"To go tell Lisa what you said. Maybe if I bathe in her perfume, I won't offend you with my corpse stench."
"NOOOO!" There was a thump and a curse as the older man sent his chair flying in his haste to stand. "Don't you fucking dare!" He tackled the other blonde, but Erwin managed to slip out of his grasp.
"I'm gonna mix them all together and soak in them!"
"That will literally kill me!"
"I'm not seeing a downside to this!" The men grappled for a moment longer, and while Erwin finally ended up in a headlock, the bruise blooming on Mike's cheek as well as his split lip was proof that he didn't go down without a fight.
"Are you gonna calm down now, Smith?"
"No! Let me go before I breathe on you and infect you with the plague I'm apparently carrying...!" The taller man growled in frustration, but finally relented, stepping back as his subordinate gasped for air and coughed, rubbing his throat.
"That's not what I meant, Smith…" He leaned against the nearest wall, wiping the blood from his chin. The younger man wasn't the top cadet in his graduating class for nothing. "You don't smell like a rotting corpse, you just… ugh. Like I said, it's complicated. There's something about the way you smell inside that reminds me of death. Like… like a graveyard. You might not be able to smell it, or anyone else- you think that when all the meat rots away that bodies don't smell anymore, but they do. And that soil is just… inundated with the smell of death, hundreds if not thousands of bodies. It is… fucked up. Our language does not have words to describe how much that smell freaks me out. You smell like graveyard dirt, Smith, and when you sit your sweaty ass next to me at dinner, it makes me lose my appetite." Silence fell between them again, although this time, it was eased slightly by the sound of both men still breathing hard. Straightening and adjusting the collar of his jacket, Erwin opened the door, pausing before he stepped over the threshold.
"I'll make an effort to secrete less around you, sir."
For the longest time, he stewed in the ignominy of that declaration. You smell like graveyard dirt- what did that even mean? Erwin knew what graveyard dirt smelled like- he'd been there when his father's remains were lowered into the freshly dug grave, he had taken a handful of the soil and scattered it atop the wooden casket before the gravediggers set to work refilling the hole. It smelled fine, like freshly dug soil from his own back yard. The entire graveyard smelled fine- he had been afraid it would "reek of death" (although back then, he didn't really know what "death" smelled like), but there was nothing offensive. Damp soil and fresh cut grass and the faintest whiff of the flowers his aunt gave him to lay on his father's grave. The only offensive thing had been how such a horrible event could have such a lovely backdrop.
Still, Mike's words burned in his mind, and after one particularly paranoid day of sniffing himself every few minute, half convinced the stares he was garnering was because suddenly everyone could smell the redolence of death wafting from him, he told the rest of his squad what their captain had said. It was quite satisfying watching the giant of a man wither under Lisa's glare, and after enduring a thorough sniff from all of them, they came to the conclusion that Mike had just been driven insane from a lifetime of smelling things man was not meant to smell. That finally put the matter from his head.
For a month.
~o0o~
Their next expedition beyond the walls resulted in fifteen more deaths, though thankfully, no one from Squad Twelve. While Mike hadn't been able to secure permission to use flares- he'd fed Shadis a story about wanting to use them to mark Titans so they could engage- he told his team that if they did well this month, the Commander was willing to consider it. They did do well, using their position near the rearguard to test how well Erwin's formation covered their blind spots. Quite effectively, actually, and it turned out Lisa could shout really loudly, but that wasn't enough to warn Squad Ten in time. Watching the three and five meter Titans destroy their supplies was almost more painful than watching their fellow Scouts be torn apart in a shower of blood and gobbets of meat.
The expedition that followed that had one of the lowest body counts in years, only eight, but that was because they'd barely made it out the gates before they were set upon by no less than a dozen Titans. The Abnormals that jumped were the worst. There was something so deeply unsettling about a humanoid form springing into the air like a frog, especially when the bits and pieces of flesh that fell from its mouth weren't from an insect, but from his roommate.
It was amazing how fast it happened. One moment, they had been working together to fell a twelve-meter, Erwin taking out the creature's legs while William's ODM rig reeled him in towards its' nape. His cut was messy- they always were- but it was more than deep enough to drop the Titan. He'd only been standing there for a moment, trying to catch his breath as the foul steam rose around him, and then… Erwin couldn't even remembered if he screamed or not before his skull was crushed. All he remembered was grabbing the other man's arm from the grass, and how light it felt when there wasn't a hundred and ninety pounds of dead weight he was trying to heave up with it.
William had an older sister and a grandmother, he always got letters from them. They deserved to have something more to bury than a few bloody chunks of meat. As he rode, pushing his steed as fast as it could go in a desperate attempt to rejoin the rest of the convoy, clutching that still warm arm to his chest, he wondered if this was why Mike thought he reeked of death. Were the ghosts of all those dead limbs he'd had to load onto wagons still clinging him, the shadow of rot seeping into his soul? All Erwin could smell was blood and sweat.
~o0o~
After two and half months, shoveling horse shit had somehow become the least horrible part of his day. Did he enjoy it? Of course not. But then, he didn't really enjoy anything much anymore. He didn't enjoy walking into the mess hall in the morning and realizing just how many empty seats there were. He didn't enjoy training with a dwindling number of stony faced, red-eyed soldiers, or doing maintenance on gear that would be of no use if he actually ended up in a Titan's mouth, or returning to an empty, painfully quiet room at night.
The stables had become the one constant in Erwin's life, and he was ashamed to admit that the presence of the horses comforted him more than the presence of his fellow humans. They didn't lose many horses, the Titans weren't interested in them. Maybe one or two had to be left behind if they broke a leg as some fourteen meter barreled over them, but for the most part, the stables were always full. Full of life… and shit, but he was willing to put up with the latter if he could just have a few moments to enjoy the former.
His father would probably be happier if this was his actual job. He wouldn't have been proud that his son graduated at the top of the Training Corps, or that he had killed nine Titans single handedly in the five months he'd been a Scout. Thomas Smith had always been a cautious man, and a pacifist- something which surprised many people, given the size of him.
Being strong doesn't make you invincible, Erwin…
He always muttered things like that when he bandaged the cuts and scrapes his son accumulated from playing too rough or carelessly. No one was invincible- everyone could die at any moment. Those dark blue eyes would be filled with disappointment if he had to watch his only son venture beyond the walls every other month. But… if his father were still alive, would he have even joined the Survey Corps? The only reason he cared about going beyond the walls was vindication… right? Or would that nagging feeling that there was something better out there, some grand truth, something… more… continue hounding him?
Those thoughts, depressing as they were, were still less harrowing than remembering what the piece of William's face that fell to the ground looked like. So, every day, he worked himself to exhaustion, leaving the stables when the sun went down with just enough energy to shower (three times, of course), cram a few bites of bread into his mouth to quell the nausea that had been building for the last hour, and drag himself to bed where he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The less time he had to spend awake, remembering how he didn't used to feel so alone when he could just hear another person breathing, the better.
No matter how much he slept, he still felt tired, which usually led to him dozing off during breakfast. Someone kicking his foot stirred him enough to hear his name through his weary haze.
"Smith. Smith!" At least, he assumed it was his name because it was close by. There were literally two dozen other soldiers with the surname "Smith" in the Survey Corps at the moment. You're ten a penny… That unbidden memory did more to rouse him than the hand shaking his shoulder.
"Wake up, Erwin. Your porridge is getting cold." Lisa pushed the bowl closer to him, forcing him to take notice of the watery gruel they colloquially called "porridge". It was said that even the lowest ranking officers in the Military Police Brigade were served a ration of meat for breakfast.
"I'm not hungry…" Erwin muttered, closing his eyes and letting his head fall until his chin rested against his chest. He was on the verge of drifting off again when a large hand roughly grabbed his hair, tugging the short blonde strands back to force him awake.
"Too bad," Mike scowled at him. "You skipped dinner last night. Eat your slop; we can't have you wasting away before the next expedition."
"Sure you can. Just let me die- maybe when there's only ten of you left, you can actually have a decent meal for once."
"Erwin!"
"Damn, Smith!" Gerwalt recoiled from him. "That's was dark, even for me. What's gotten into you?" For a moment, he considered spitting out another cruel joke that was really only half a joke, or even not saying anything at all, but he was boxed in by eyes staring at him, hurt, confused, frustrated… He never realized how much he missed having someone just sit quietly across from him. Grabbing his spoon, he slowly stirred the contents of the bowl, trying to work up the nerve to actually eat it.
"William's things are still in my room," He whispered, more to himself than his companions. "His family hasn't sent for them. I keep expecting it all to be gone one day, to make room for someone else, but… there is no one else. There probably won't be until the 95th Corps graduates next year, and even then… we have so many empty barracks…" Lifting the spoon finally, he raised it to his mouth before letting it fall back into the bowl. "It's so quiet…" He recognized the sigh the other soldiers all seemed to heave in unison, a sound that was born of an understanding that physically weighed on their souls. Mike's hand wasn't nearly as rough patting him on the back.
"It always is. I went through five roommates before becoming a captain. Hell, getting your own quarters is the only good thing about being a captain; you don't have to… y'know… get attached." Lisa's hand was even more gentle as she rubbed his shoulder.
"If you're lonely, Erwin, you can come talk to one of us. Maybe… don't come to my room in the middle of the night, but… you know."
"I don't want to be a bother."
"Pfft, what bother? That one," Gerwalt jerked a thumb in Lisa's direction. "Used to sneak into my room to cry during thunderstorms."
"That was TWO times! And you swore you'd never tell, you piece of shit!"
"You're right. I'll tell them instead how you were too scared to go to bathroom and you-"
"CHOKE ON YOUR LIES!" She lunged across the table, knocking aside both their bowls and wrapping her hands around the other man's throat, but they were too small to reach all the way around.
"You aren't a bother, Erwin," Mike's voice was almost too quiet to be heard over the sound of his squad arguing. "You're the only new recruit left, so trust me when I say that everyone in these barracks knows what you're going through. If anything's bothering you whenever, just come talk to me. I'm serious." Erwin doubted he would actually take the older man up on his offer, but the fact that he offered at all made him feel a little better.
"Thank you, sir."
"Hm. Yeah, well, I can't have you jumping off the roof after I just spent two months kissing Shadis' ass to make him approve our use of flares." The tussling across the table stopped, and suddenly, all eyes were on Mike.
"You wha?"
"Oh my god, you actually did it?!" Lisa squealed with a wide smile.
"Yeah. Now, I didn't get too many, only about a dozen, but that works out to three for each of us and really, there can't be that many Titans that more than one of us don't spot, right? I was honestly thinking that we could spread out into a diamond formation so each of us can focus on one main direction. We don't want to get too far away from each other, but the more ground we can cover the better. What do you think, Smith?"
"I…" It still felt strange that a superior would be asking for his input on mission plans. "I think that would work sir, but only if you're the rearguard. You're the only one who can, for all intents and purposes, see what's behind us. Rather than lead the charge, you'd need to ensure the rest of us don't get flanked." Erwin could just imagine the sneers he would get if he told any other captain that the best position for them would be behind their subordinates. Mike, however, just mulled it over for a moment and nodded.
"Don't worry; I'll watch your six."
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Trusting three of his four sides to the eyes of other people was harder than ODM training had ever been. The only way their new formation would work was if each member focused the majority of their attention in a single direction, keeping their eyes peeled for the slightest movement, but Erwin kept finding his gaze lingering for too long on the right. It would only take a second at most to see the plume of red smoke from any side, but he was convinced the rest of his comrades might miss something. Which was stupid. He was the youngest member of their squad- even Gerwalt had been in the Survey Corps for a year prior to him; if anyone was going to miss something, it was him. That was why he had volunteered to take the leftmost position, closest to the rest of the regiment- he'd probably hear the shouts and screams of the other soldiers if a Titan appeared before he saw anything.
And yet, despite knowing this, the others still trusted him, trusted their lives to his hands and his foolish plan, and if any of them died, it would all be his fault- Glancing over his shoulder, he had to look twice to be sure he'd really seen the pillar of red smoke behind him. A titan was coming from the southeast. Given Mike's nose, it probably wasn't anywhere near them yet, but it could be soon. Shifting the reins to his left hand, Erwin raised his own flare gun high, letting off a round, the smell of gunpowder burning his nose. Surely Lisa and Gerwalt saw it- of course they did, they weren't blind. It took only a few seconds for a plume of green smoke appear before them, arcing towards the left, signaling that Gerwalt didn't see anything and they were clear to move closer to the rest of the regiment. The blonde man sighed, reaching into his saddlebag for another canister of colored powder.
This was the most peaceful mission he'd been on in the seven months since he'd joined the Survey Corps. It wasn't "peaceful"- he'd have to be deaf to not hear the screams coming from other squads, but Mike had given them their orders- keep tailing the commander. All they had to do today was drop off supplies for their next expedition. They, or rather, Mike and Lisa, had spotted four Titans so far, but they'd outrun them all easily.
It seemed several other squads realized what they were up to, because when Squad Twelve drifted to the left or right, Squads Seven and Four changed their direction as well. The sight of the forest looming ever larger made his stomach twist into knots, but at least this time, there were no dark clouds forming overhead. They weren't even going inside; at least, he wasn't. From somewhere up ahead, Commander Shadis' voice rang out, though not clearly enough to be heard all the way to the back lines. Another soldier fell back until they were riding alongside Erwin.
"Smith! Where's the rest of Squad Twelve?"
"Further back. What are the Commander's orders?"
"Squads Ten through Thirteen, stay at the entrance of the forest and keep any Titans from entering. Relay that to your captain!" The other Scout rode harder, leaving the younger man to hurriedly dig through his saddlebag, switching out the red flare for a green one. The majority of their regiment was slowing, allowing the wagons and those guarding them to pull ahead. Twisting in the saddle, he deployed the flare, signaling to the rest to draw in. Lisa was the first to reach him.
"Erwin! Do we have new orders?"
"We're standing guard at the mouth of the forest. Tell Captain Mike- I'm going to tell Gerwalt." Digging his heels into the horse's sides, he raised himself up from the saddle as the mount put on a burst of speed. A hard-learned lesson. As the wind stung his eyes, he remembered how excited he, as well as the rest of the 89th Corps had been to finally ride the Survey Corps' infamous steeds… and how the mess hall that night had been filled with moans of agony as they struggled to sit with everything below the waist bruised all to hell. The horses' galloping speeds were so great that trying to ride them normally could (and usually, for the cadets, did) result in fractures. Gerwalt slowed as he noticed who was behind him.
"Smith, what are you doing out of formation?"
"No more formation- get to the mouth of the forest. We're on guard duty." Once they finally reached the trees, they left their horses with a tonal command and deployed their ODM gear to reach the lowest branches. There were about half a dozen Titans in the distance to the southeast, maybe four more to the west. As long as they didn't spread out too much, they would serve as adequate bait, staying just out of range as the Titans clawed fruitlessly at the trunks of the trees. Mike zipped over to the branch just above Erwin's, his gaze sweeping over the rest of his squad.
"Everyone in one piece?"
"Thankfully," Lisa sighed, leaning heavily against the trunk as she caught her breath. "I saw that ten-meter come out of nowhere and almost pissed myself. Ugh, expeditions are so much better when we're not running towards the Titans…" They all murmured in agreement, until a feminine voice from another tree interrupted them.
"Zacharias!" Captain Forster landed on an adjacent branch, scowling at the taller man. "Mind explaining why your squad- and most of the left flank- was weaving so much?" Mike shook his bangs from his eyes.
"Did the Commander send you to ask about it?"
"No…"
"Then I do mind. Sorry." The other captain swore, her jaw so tight the tendons in her neck stood out like steel wires.
"Do you have any idea how distracting that was? My squad was nearly wiped out because we encountered a thirteen-meter, and instead of helping us, Team Ness decided to follow your stupid flares and leave us to handle the damn thing on our own!" Erwin felt his stomach bottom out.
"An Abnormal?" He wasn't even sure he wanted to know.
"No, it was normal-"
"Then… you were ambushed?"
"No." Squad Ten had been in his field of view for a good half hour; when had this happened? When they merged closer? How was that possible?
"Then where did this Titan come from?" Gerwalt asked, his lips pulling into a frown.
"It was behind us-" Alia began, but Erwin cut her off.
"It was behind you… but it didn't ambush you. Did you… did you stop to kill it?!"
"What the hell else were we supposed to do, Smith?!"
"Keep riding! You would have outrun it eventually, and even if you didn't, you'd have at least caught up with another squad!"
"What does a coward like you know about anything-" She hissed, but was cut off this time by Mike.
"Hey. It's not Smith's fault you got your squad killed by being reckless. If you wanna blindly follow Shadis' tactics, don't get upset when you get his results." A chill settled over the group, independent of the autumn breeze. The stony silence that followed was only disturbed by the groaning of the Titans below them, their thick fingers scraping the bark from the trees as they tried to claw their way to the tantalizing flesh just out of reach.
From somewhere within the forest, the piercing scream of a sound grenade rang out, sending birds scattering in all directions and setting every Scout in the trees on alert, quickly attaching blades to their ODM handles. The supply team and those guarding them were on their way back, and they would be set upon immediately if the Titans blocking their path weren't cleared away. Mike spoke up, his voice taking on a commanding tone.
"Beck, Smith; Lowell and I will deal with that eight-meter one. You two take out the those four-meters."
"Sir!" They took new positions, as did the rest of the soldiers, trying to draw the monsters away from one another. Nothing spelled a death sentence faster than being in a position where more than one Titan could grab you. Their squad leader was speaking to the other captains, coordinating their plan of attack.
"We drop on three. One!" Three other voices joined his, their combined volume ensuring every Scout could hear them. "Two!" Erwin adjusted his grip on the handles, his fingers already cramping over the triggers. "THREE!"
The ultra-hardened steel hooks sank just as easily into a Titans' skull as it would stone or wood. The four-meter stared up at the rapidly descending human, its gormless expression almost disguising the threat of bone-shattering teeth and an abnormally strong grip. Cutting off the fingers that reached for him rather than attempt to dodge them, Erwin released one of the hooks and quickly reeled himself in, adjusting his weight so his straight path arched around the Titan's head, giving him a clean angle at its neck.
Releasing the accelerators, he drove his blades deep into the meat of the nape, his eyes burning from the steam as he cut out the weak point. Retreating back to the higher vantage point offered by the trees, the blonde man dangled there for a moment, shaking his hands to cool them as the remaining blood evaporated, and looking out across the row of trees to see if the rest of the Titans had fallen. Most of them had, the majority not being more than five meters tall, but there were still one or two larger beasts that wouldn't go down without a fight. A shrill whistle preceded Gerwalt swinging over to him.
"I hear the Commander and wagons coming! Yo, Smith, call your horse!" His hands were still hot, but at least they were cleaner than last time, tasting of nothing but sweat and metal as Erwin lifted his fingers to his lips. ' You'd better come this time…' He thought bitterly as he blew, his own whistle blending with about a dozen others to form an ear piercing cacophony. Fortunately, this horse was either better trained, or just close enough to hear the call, trotting up to the quickly decaying Titan corpse below him and standing still.
Several dozen horses, some pulling now empty but still intact wagons, filed from the darkness of the forest, spreading out once they were past the blockade of disintegrating bodies. Dropping to the dried grass below, Erwin quickly mounted his steed, setting off back towards the wall. Although the majority of the Scouts followed suit, there were still a handful of their number trying to take out the last Titan. A nauseating crunch, followed by hysterical shrieking, filled the air, but Erwin kept his eyes forward.
"We have to help them!" Lisa screamed. Mike grabbed her reins before she could even think about turning back.
"No! They need to get on their horses and run while that thing's distracted. None of you are to engage any Titans unless they're about to eat you directly; do I make myself clear?"
"Yes sir!"
There were more Titans on the way back than there had been as they rode out, those they avoided having finally caught up, but it seemed that even the Commander wasn't willing to let the first somewhat successful mission they'd had in quite some time go up in flames. Their orders? Get back to Wall Maria, do not engage. They were more than happy to comply.
~o0o~
Dinner was downright jubilant, at least for those that hadn't gone out drinking in celebration. Five causalities; Mike said he didn't think the number had been that low since Shadis was a captain.
"Well, yeah; cuz we weren't charging directly at them for once." Several of the tables had been pushed closer so that larger groups could sit together; they'd have to move everything back the way it was before leaving, but everyone was in too good of a mood to care about a little extra work. Squads Seven and Four, headed by Captains Ness and Wallace, invited themselves over to Squad Twelve's corner of the hall.
"Damn, Mike- I knew that sniffer of yours was good, but I didn't think you could smell every goddamn Titan within five kilometers!"
"Hey!" Lisa slammed her cup down on the table. "I spotted more than him! Where's my credit?"
"Hell yeah, you did!" Gerwalt threw an arm around her shoulder. "Eyes of an eagle, this one!"
"I'll admit it- I thought you were all talk, Smith," Rolfe Green stretched his legs along the trestle bench, much to the annoyance of his squad mates. "Some dumb-ass kid who thinks he's smarter than he is, but no. You actually have more sense than Commander Keith-"
"Shut up; he might hear you…" Dieter Ness hissed at his subordinate.
"No, I'm not gonna shut up- I hope he hears me! The first thing my dad taught me when I started school was 'don't pick fights you can't win', but that's all Shadis would have us do! Alia's whole squad is dead because they went back to kill a Titan. Did that reduce the number we had to dodge on the way back? Fuck no!" He put his feet down, turning to face Erwin, gray eyes piercing blue. "You need to work your tactical magic and make a formation for the rest of us, too."
"And what if I don't want to use some newbie's formation?" Ness asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Then I'll put in a request to join Captain Mike's team." Most of the people seated sucked in a breath through their teeth. Asking to be transferred to another squad was the greatest insult a member of the Survey Corps could give to another soldier. To blatantly admit you didn't trust the people you fought alongside went beyond hurtful.
"Hey, you leave me out of this…" Mike mumbled, letting his hair fall over his eyes in a futile attempt to hide from the unwanted attention he was garnering. One of the members of Wallace's squad, a blonde woman who might have been named Elizabeth?, nudged the two men now glaring at each other apart.
"Calm down, boys; no one needs to transfer anywhere. Captain, why wouldn't you want to use Erwin's formations; you clearly didn't mind using them today?"
"A little thing called 'plausible deniability', Beth. The Commander can't prove we were following any unapproved orders today, but if all of us start requesting permission to use flares and weaving all over the place, he's going to start getting suspicious." His team stared at him in silence for a long time, before exploding.
"Fucking and?!"
"Way to stand up for us, asshole!"
"I can't believe this; you're more afraid of Shadis throwing the book at you than you are of Titans eating us!"
"No, I'm not!" Dieter slammed his hands down on the table, silencing his team. "Listen, dummies. If all of us openly start using a specific formation behind his back, the Commander is going to get pissed and 'throw the book' at all of us. None of us will be allowed to use flares, and if he catches us avoiding combat, he's probably going to have us charged with insubordination. You saw how he reacted to the idea of Smith going against him; what do you think he's going to do to Erwin if he realizes he is actually going against him?"
"I'm not going against anyone," Erwin argued, growing frustrated with these people trying to make him out to be some kind of glory-seeking upstart. "My ideas are just suggestions-"
"Suggestions that didn't come from the genius brain of Keith Shadis. In his mind, that's going against him," Gregor Wallace sighed, downing the contents of his cup in a single gulp. "You're young, you're clearly intelligent; you're a threat. Hate to admit it, but Dieter's right. I don't think we should officially be following your suit."
The hopeful mood that had surrounded them all earlier quickly soured, and Erwin swallowed against the nausea churning within him, sickened by the disgust of more successful expeditions like today's being kept just out of reach by one man's hubris, but also the way everyone was looking at him. Such expectation, as though in their eyes, he and he alone could keep them all safe from the Titans. Seven months ago, he had been a lowly cadet. He wasn't even a captain yet. Unbidden, a conversation from forever ago drifted the forefront of his mind, or at least, part of it.
If I can't take one person to the top of Wall Maria, how will I ever bring anyone, even myself, to the unknown expanse that lies beyond...?
He could not venture beyond the walls alone, and his fellow soldiers could not take that journey with him if they were all killed. How could he claim he'd dedicated his heart to humanity when fear, not of the Titans but of his own inadequacies, kept him from making even the smallest step towards progress? Inhaling deeply, his hands clenched beneath the table, nails digging into the tender flesh of his palms.
"Even if you can't follow our lead, I'm still going to try and devise a formation that can help us. All of us. I don't want to see any more of my brothers and sisters die needless deaths; hopefully, one day, the Commander will feel the same." The way his comrades looked at him was still uncomfortable, their expectations still so high, but the hope, the pride in their gazes made him feel a little stronger.
~o0o~
The general atmosphere remained cheerful the next morning, not only because most people were still able to sit beside and talk with their friends, but also because most of them were busy tearing into letters and packages with the enthusiasm of children on their birthday. Once a month, the members of the Survey Corps received any letters or packages that had been addressed to them, and they had until the end of the day to send any letters they wanted to reach before the next month. It was usually a bright spot in the Scouts' lives, learning what their friends and loved ones had been up to, receiving news of new siblings or even children of their own in rare instances, and while there was also bad news, the good generally outweighed it.
The mess hall even smelled better on mail days, what with parents and grandparents and spouses sending higher quality toiletries than what was issued by the Corps, to say nothing of the edible goods that always left a good portion of the soldiers seething or drooling, sometimes both simultaneously. Mike was one of the people who garnered the most jealousy. His large family meant he usually got a sheaf of letters unto himself, and his mother always sent some manner of baked good- even something as simple as bread was highly coveted when it was made with leavener, unlike the stale rations that everyone was fairly certain contained at least as much sawdust as flour…
While the young captain aggressively guarded his bounty from the longing gazes and grabby hands of the other Scouts, he had, since Erwin joined his squad, offered the other blonde a share of his goods. Each time, Erwin thanked him, sincerely, but declined. He knew the taller man thought he was being nice, but he saw it for what it really was; pity. He was one of the few people who didn't receive any kind of mail. There was no one who would write him. His family, small as it was, had all died years ago, and the people he considered his friends from the Training Corps had all joined the Scouting Regiment alongside him… and died as well. Well, except for Nile Dok, but they hadn't exactly parted ways on the best of terms, the gossip that the brunette had been seen chatting Marie up mere days after she and Erwin broke off their engagement left him seething even now. And… no, he didn't want to think about her.
The young man closed his eyes as excited voices washed over him, his chin nearly slipping off his palm as he contemplated just letting himself fall face down into his porridge. The wooden bowl would probably be more comfortable than his pillow.
"Mail for you, Smith." Something very light was slapped onto the top of his head, and when he started, it slid off, nearly landing in the bowl before him.
"Um, I think you've made a mistake, sir." He glanced back at the captain who had been tasked with handing out mail this month, only to earn a scowl in return.
"You're 'Erwin Smith', right?"
"Yes?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?" The older man pointed at the letter. "Learn to read before you accuse other people of making mistakes, rookie." Muttering under his breath, he tossed Mike's usual package at him and letters for Lisa and Gerwalt onto the table, walking away. Their own mail ignored, the other members of Squad Twelve crowded around Erwin.
"It is addressed to you!"
"Who the hell is sending you mail all of a sudden?" Mike grabbed the letter and gave it a hearty sniff. Slate gray eyes widened.
"It's from a girl." Lisa squealed right beside the youngest man's ear, clasping her hands together and beaming like she didn't just deafen him.
"Awwwww?! Erwin's got a girlfriend!"
"The fuck he does," Gerwalt's lips twisted in distaste, snatching the letting away from their captain. "It's probably from a stalker, some weird, lonely fishwife who watches us when we go out and fantasizes about tall, blonde soldiers doing all the things her husband won't."
"Then why wouldn't she write to Captain Mike instead?" Erwin asked dryly, pulling the letter away before his comrade could rip open the envelope. "And don't open my mail!"
"What, is it private?"
"It might be." In truth, he had no idea what the envelope could contain. It was very plain, a bit crumpled from everyone manhandling it. Turning it over, he saw his name, clear as day, addressed to the Ehrmich barracks strangely enough. And in the corner above it…
Erwin stood up so quickly his thighs collided with the table, but he barely felt the resulting ache. Stumbling in his haste to climb over the bench, he ignored the calls of his name, running full sprint back to his quarters. With his long strides, the trip to the second floor took less than a minute. It wasn't even a particularly strenuous run, but still his hands shook as he closed the door, dropping onto his bed to stare at the return address. Or rather, at the name written above it. Thomasin Lindemann. He hadn't even recognized it as her handwriting at a glance, because it was so different from the note she'd written him three months ago- the note he still kept tucked away in his drawer despite not even unfolding it since because it felt wrong to throw it away.
Three months. It didn't sound like a long time, but so much happened in three months, so many deaths… Why write him, why now of all times? It couldn't be anything good; getting letters was never anything good. The last time he'd received a proper letter, it had been informing him that his aunt, his father's sister and the last family he had left, had passed away and that he needed to collect his belongings from his father's house in Klorva district before it was sold. This had to be bad news too, another death, she was dying, or-
The letter dangled weakly from his fingers as Erwin doubled over, his head between his knees as he tried to calm his harried breathing as well as the vertigo spinning the room faster the harder his heart pounded. A part of him was tempted to just throw the letter away, unopened, forget about it and the ever-growing sense of dread it brought with it. But… he couldn't do that. For nearly four years of friendship, of listening to him rant and rave about a dream that, honestly, felt as though it was falling by the wayside, he owed it to her to at least see what she had written. Reading sitting up proved to be impossible, what with the room still pitching to and fro violently, so he laid down.
Tearing open the side of the envelope as carefully as he could, Erwin pulled out the letter. It was folded with sharp creases, unlike the note, and opening it revealed neither the paper nor the ink were very good quality. But the handwriting was far superior to what he remembered, each letter spaced and stroked so evenly he had to wonder how long it took to write. A while, he realized, noticing blobs of ink in some spots, where the pen had been left pressed against the paper for too long and bled out. Slowly, with dread still coiling in his chest, he read what had clearly taken some time to write.
Erwin,
I hope this letter finds you well. In truth, I will be happy if this letter just finds you alive. I know there have been three expeditions since my discharge, but I'm afraid I cannot bring myself to watch the Scouts' procession. The tolling of the Bell of Liberty chills me to my core, even when the gate isn't being raised. I fear the cowardice that had somehow spared me all these years has finally reared its' head. It's only just begun to sink in, now that I am well and truly deprived of your companionship, but you are undoubtedly my dearest friend. I know it's not be the same for you; I know I am but one face amongst many, but I confess this because the knowledge that I may be writing these words to a ghost fills me with a dread and sorrow the likes of which I have never known. I am too afraid to confirm my suspicions. But if, by some grace of God, you respond, I will be waiting at the outer gate of Shiganshina to see you off for your next expedition, and to see you return as well.
Thomasin
Erwin reread the letter several times. Twice more, he checked the name on the back of the envelope. Thomasin Lindemann. He knew that name, and the girl attached to that name in his mind wasn't nearly so… eloquent. In all the time he'd known and spoken to her, she probably hadn't said as many words as were currently contained in the letter he held. Of course, it was often easier to put ones' true thoughts and feelings into writing, when one wasn't put on the spot, but even so…
He tried to read the letter in Thomasin's voice, to hear her apathetic tone call him her dearest friend, to imagine those listless eyes chilled to their core- No… no, that was easier to imagine. He had seen the fear in her eyes when they returned from their first journey beyond the walls… Maybe it wasn't so hard to imagine her writing such a letter. People changed. He had no idea what had happened in her life since they'd last seen one another; hell, maybe just coming so close to her own mortality had inspired these newfound poetic thoughts… Maybe she always wrote like this, and he just didn't know because… they were always within chatting distance; why would she need to write him a letter?
Folding it back along its' creases, he slipped the cheap paper back into its' envelope and set it beside his pillow, staring at the bottom of the empty top bunk. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine William chuckling above him, his voice muffled by the mattress, Heheh, well look who took my advice. How long have you been dating…? Only, it didn't really work because he wasn't sure what William sounded like anymore. Memories faded so quickly…
Inhaling deeply, Erwin forced himself to roll out of bed, because if he didn't move, he'd gladly just lay there until some outside force (probably Mike) acted upon him. Sitting at the desk he'd since moved against the window- if he wasn't going to be assigned another roommate, he might as well take the opportunity to rearrange his quarters to his liking- he pulled a clean sheet of paper and a pen from one of the drawers. Staring out the window, he let his thoughts settle in his mind before putting them to paper.
Thomasin,
I am alive, and as well as can be expected. It does my heart good to know that you too are alive, and at least well enough to write. I confess, I was terrified your letter had been sent to inform me of your passing. A letter is a poor substitute for your presence, but I am thankful you sent it nonetheless. If I have ever led you to believe that you are anything to me but a bosom friend, I am truly sorry for it. What you call "cowardice," I call a perfectly understandable response to grief, to horror, to fear. We have watched our fellow cadets of the 89th Corps shuffle off this mortal coil one by one, and I am sorry to say that more Scouts than I care to think about have joined them. I do not, in any way, shape, or form, begrudge you not having the heart to continue watching our death march. You needn't force yourself to suffer simply for my sake. Knowing that I am in your thoughts is enough.
Sincerely, Erwin
Sitting back to admire his handiwork, Erwin quickly buried his head in his hands.
"What the fuck is this…?" He whispered harshly to himself. "No, no… nonono… this is too… much." Okay, maybe now he better understood why her letter had seemed so off. Somehow, his sincere thoughts and feelings had transmuted into this flowery bullshit. So formal, so stilted, it was hard to imagine that conversation had flowed so effortlessly between them. But, he supposed, that was because it was easier to open up and let himself speak unguardedly when she was sitting across from him, her chin resting on her palm as her posture spoke of boredom, but her eyes intensely focused on his own… 'Okay, it's not as much as it could've been…' He relented, the heat in his cheeks starting to creep all the way to his ears. It was fine. He was just writing to let her know that he was okay, and considering he only had until the end of the day to add it to the pile of outgoing mail, there wasn't really time to sit there and try to write anything that made him feel less awkward.
Folding his letter as sharply as she had her own, he realized after the fact that he didn't have any envelopes. Why would he- he never sent mail. His gaze shifted to the right side of drawers on the desk, the side in which William kept his effects. He was always writing letters to his sister, bragging about how many Titans he'd killed and how he was a shoe-in for promotion to captain…
Erwin's fingers trembled as they ghosted over the rough brass handle. The drawers were light enough to open with a pinky, but all his strength somehow left him. It was okay, the rational part of his mind told him. It was just one measly envelope; William would have gladly offered it if he had been there, if he wasn't a severed arm in a shallow grave somewhere in Wall Rose. He didn't need it anymore. One of these days, everything in those drawers was going to have to be thrown out anyway, even the letters from his sweet grandmother who always worried that it was somehow colder beyond the walls and promised to make him a sweater to wear for expeditions in the winter months…
Erwin stood, tucking the letter into his pocket and walking from the room as fast as he could without breaking into a run. He'd just ask Lisa for an envelope.
000000000
It was almost funny that, as soon as Commander Shadis deemed Erwin sufficiently humiliated for daring to speak against his plans, the blonde soldier fully committed himself to going against said plans. Although his arms (and clothes) appreciated the break, any time not spent training or completing less odorous chores was now fully invested in developing a new formation that could make use of the hundreds of eyes available to them. Reading, mapping, scrapping everything and starting the whole process anew became the new norm for him, pushing away everything else. His comrades gave their hearts, their lives for humanity- if nothing else, he owed it to them to give his mind.
Now that they had a supply cache eight kilometers from the wall, they could hopefully push even further some day soon. The sky was clear and there were minimal winds- ideal conditions for the use of flares. Erwin twisted the reins between his fingers as they waited for the outer gate of Shiganshina to be raised. This time, their formation would be slightly larger; while Squads Seven and Four weren't going to use flares, their captains had spoken with Mike and realized that, by positioning their units between the members of Squad Twelve, they could act as relays.
Shadis was more than happy to let them join the rearguard- usually, teams had to draw lots to see who was going to be forced into that position; he wasn't going to question three squads begging for the opportunity. It was good practice, and if this mission went well- even if it didn't- Erwin would be able to apply the results to his overall formation plan. He was so caught up in his thoughts and his nerves that he almost didn't hear his name being called. Glancing around, he didn't see anyone trying to catch his attention. His squad mates were right there beside him, but they were silent, lost in thought or prayer, only they knew.
"Erwin! Erwin!" There it was again, a voice he hadn't heard in so long, he was starting to forget it. I will be waiting at the outer gate of Shiganshina to see you off for your next expedition… Scanning the crowd, there was no one familiar amongst the faces, although he noticed several expressions turning from indifference to annoyance as bodies were forced aside. The sight of dark curls all but headbutting people out of the way reminded him of the sheep that grazed in the fields they passed through Wall Maria's territories, and he almost laughed until he saw her stumble. She caught herself, but it became clear that she couldn't use her arms to move anyone when one of them was thrown out for balance and the other clenched white-knuckled around a crutch.
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the guilt came back. But to his surprise, Thomasin straightened, shoulders back, chest out, standing tall. It wasn't as fluid as it should have been, given that the crutch under her arm was in the way, but the form of her salute was flawless. The massive gears that operated the gate groaned like a creature rudely awakened. The Commander's voice rang out over the crowd, preparing them to charge forth, but Erwin allowed himself to release his reins for a second, just long enough to offer half of a salute back, the half mattered. Dedicate your heart…
He couldn't afford a second look as the horses before him began their canter through the massive wall, but he was certain he caught a glimpse of a smile from the woman in the crowd. And to see you return as well… It was a cruel, selfish thing to hope for, but Erwin would be lying to say he'd ever wanted anything that wasn't.
000000000
A/N- I feel like this chapter was mostly exposition, but I just wanted to bring Thomasin back into the story. I can't wait to start the quote-un-quote "romance" part of this shitshow. Ugh, it's sooo easy to think of fluffy bits in isolation, but when I actually start writing, all I can think is "I wanna go back to the Titan battles…" (people who have read my other works know that I'm more of a "visceral depictions of dark fantasy war and the long-lasting effects of grief" kind of writer, not… "romance"). I gave Erwin's dad a name, and realized after the fact that, huh- that's literally his love-interest's name; Thomasin is a feminine form of Thomas. I'm sure THAT won't be awkward! But the reason I wanted to name his dad that is because of St. Thomas Aquinas, who was a famous scholar and is the patron saint of scholars, teachers, and basically, learning in general. And I'm a sick fuck who thinks it's funny that a teacher who was killed for being too smart would be named after the protector of teachers and knowledge. Also, I'm kind of in love with Lisa and Gerwalt. More so than with 90% of the cast of AoT. My ego knows no bounds.