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Ch. 8- "Found"

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Another blizzard had effectively canceled the Survey Corps' scheduled day off, so it was rescheduled to a week later. With the weather as turbulent as it was, there wouldn't be any more expeditions for a while. At least their last one had been a success. They'd recovered sixty percent of the gear they'd lost, and only suffered eight casualties, five of whom were new recruits. The fact that they'd gone a year while keeping more than one recruit was a victory in Erwin's book. At least there would be something to bolster him when he came crawling back to base with his tail between his legs. It was snowing lightly, just as it had the first time he'd gone to visit Thomasin, but even wandering lost around Shiganshina for half an hour didn't leave him feeling as miserable as he did on this otherwise lovely day…

The streets of the southern district were filled with children sledding down the steep alleyways and throwing snowballs at anyone foolish enough to wander too close to their battleground. It was a work day, but it was also fairly early- Erwin had forsaken breakfast and a shower in favor of pulling his boots and dress coat on over his sleeping clothes in an attempt to catch the first ferry. His efforts bore fruit, for even though he was freezing and half asleep, he made it through Wall Maria just as people began leaving their homes for the day. Thomasin lived close enough to the ferry port that, if he hurried, he might be able to catch her before she got to work. She wouldn't be pleased about being harangued, but he wouldn't stop her- he'd crawl on his hands and knees behind her if she'd just let him apologize.

The usually dismal courtyard of the terraced houses looked almost quaint, covered with a fresh layer of snow that was being put to full use by two children, a young boy and an even younger girl. They were trying to make a snow… well, "man" was generous. It wasn't the most flattering depiction of humanity, but they were having fun. He smiled despite himself, immediately regretting stopping to watch as the little girl noticed him, tugging on what he assumed was her brother's sleeve, pointing at their unwelcome spectator. Erwin realized too late just how bad the scene must have looked; an unshaven, bedraggled man in a long coat watching two children who weren't related to him. 'Oh, no, I'm not going to molest you; I'm just here to harass a woman…'

"Excuse me, do you know if Thomasin is home?"

"Who?" The little girl frowned at him.

"Er… Thomasin Lindemann? She lives on the third story?" The boy leaned down to whisper so loudly one had to wonder why he even bothered.

"I think he means Miss Tammy." ' "Tammy"…?'

"Why didn't he say so?" The girl shot back, earning a shrug.

"Well, is… 'Miss Tammy' home?" The boy, who looked about six or seven, opened his mouth to speak, but didn't, suddenly pointing at the older man.

"I know you!"

"You do?"

"You're Miss Tammy's boyfriend! The one with the ugly eyebrows!" 'Ow… wait, I'm what …?' The boy smiled smugly, showing off his missing front tooth. "You used'ta come here every month. Mom said you were dead." A gross, sinking feeling manifested at those words, but he kept his expression neutral.

"It's not nice to spread rumors about people. Why would your mother say that?"

"Cuz you stopped coming and Miss Tammy got real sad. You're a Scout, right? Mom said all Scouts do is go outside the walls and get eaten by Titans…" The boy's eyes lit up. "Did you get eaten by a Titan? Are you a ghost? Are you gonna haunt us?!" The little girl whined, her face crumpling in terror as she tugged on the boy's coat.

"Caleb, stop! I'm scared!" Erwin closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply to try and stem the fresh wave of guilt threatening to wash over him.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not a ghost, I wasn't eaten by a Titan, and I'm not dead. I've been busy. But now I'm not, so let me ask again- is Thomasin home?" Caleb opened his mouth, but paused again, this time seemingly to think.

"Nnnnnnoooo… Shhhhhhe went to work…" Erwin was grateful he'd come across the one child who couldn't tell a convincing lie. He smiled, making his way to the stairs.

"I think I'll check anyway, just in case."

"Oooh! Ooooh! Are you gonna, like, float through the door?!"

"I'm still not a ghost." He could feel the children watching him as he made his way to the last door on the landing. He was almost sorry to disappoint them. If he caught her before she'd even left, that was all the better. Knocking three times, he called through the wood. "Thomasin? It's Erwin." He waited, holding his breath, but heard nothing. Swallowing hard, he knocked again. "Thomasin? Are you home?" This time, he pressed his ear to the door, trying to listen over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He could hear faint noises from the other apartments, but nothing from the one before him. Making his way back down, the boy grinned at him with the insufferable smugness that only children could manage.

"Toldja~"

"Do you know when she left for work?"

"Uh… an… hour ago…?" Cerulean eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he'd already been wrong once.

"Thank you," he deadpanned as he made his way back to a road. The only routes through Shiganshina he actually knew were how to get to and from Thomasin's house by way of the main road and ferry port. He knew where she worked, but he didn't know where she worked, and was once again forced to ask people on the street for directions.

It was somewhat easier to gain his bearings this time around because he recognized landmarks she had mentioned in the past, either in letters or conversation. There was a butcher shop two streets behind it, the stray dogs in the district always slinking around in hopes of being tossed out some scraps. There were only two skinny mutts shivering on the beside the door when he passed. The unforgiving weather wouldn't have been kind to strays… On the opposite side of the street, a few door up- or down, depending on which direction you were coming from- there was a little bakery that also served tea. Thomasin didn't care for proper tea ("overpriced plant-water"), but her eyes lit up when she mentioned the young baker's apprentice who always gave her a free slice of currant bread when it was fresh. Erwin remembered laughing when she carelessly informed him that said apprentice was a gangly, awkward youth of thirteen who always stared at her hair as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world…

"Sounds like someone is infatuated…"

"Yes, I am infatuated with that bread. I will happily marry that boy if he learns to bake as well as Mr. Silva…"

Erwin used to stare at her hair in much the same way, in awe that she could so easily compress something that seemed to have so much mass when it was time for training.

Pulling himself from his self-indulgent memories, he stopped in front of a building with smoked glass windows. Thomasin told him that the shop needed to be dark to keep the products from losing their efficacy, but also that her boss didn't care for dark, dingy rooms because they brought to mind cheap drug dens. Cupping his hands around his eyes, he leaned closer to the glass. There was someone at the counter, but he couldn't tell who. Breathing deeply and combing a hand through his hair to try and make himself look somewhat presentable, the young man stepped inside the shop, nearly jumping out of his skin as a bell chimed loudly right over his head.

"Ah, a customer. Welcome~" That was not Thomasin. A tall, slender man in his forties had been doing something with the wall of shelves and bottles behind the counter. He turned to the door with an unctuous smile that slid off his face as soon as he saw who was standing there. "…I think you are in the wrong place, young man. This is a reputable establishment."

"Forgive me, sir, I'll be on my way in a moment. I was just wondering if Thomasin had come in yet?"

"I don't know any-" The man had immediately begun blowing him off, but stopped suddenly, his gaze dropping from Erwin's admittedly scruffy face to his coat, or rather, the insignia embroidered on his breast pocket. "…you're with the Survey Corps?"

"Yes, sir." At once, the open hostility left the man's demeanor, replaced with an unenthused annoyance.

"Oh, so you're the golden boy. I thought you were dead." It was like a punch from inside his chest. How did so many people he'd never seen before know him? Why did they all think he was dead? He swallowed, his mouth uncomfortably dry.

"Well, I'm not. So is Thomasin here?"

"No. Thank god- I don't want whatever lover's drama this is happening in here."

"Well… where is she?" Mr. Reed lip curled into a sneer, baffled by this scruff soldier's presumptuous interrogation.

"How should I know? Where she goes when she's not at work isn't my concern. I'd like to assume she's at home, since she took the day off claiming she wasn't feeling well, but who knows with that girl? Probably off stealing someone else's herbs…"

"I see… Well, thank you, sir." He turned to leave, but stopped as the proprietor called out to him.

"Given that you don't know where she's gone off to, I assume Thomasin isn't aware of your… return to the land of the living. It's none of my business, and I'd like to keep it that way, but she's finally started taking her work seriously, so maybe you should just… stay dead?" There was no overt malice in the man's voice- his tone almost light, as though he were just offering a helpful suggestion. That made it even more infuriating. Erwin's fingers tightened around the door handle. A little more force and he'd snap it clean off, but he shoved his frustration down as far into the pit of his stomach as it would go, opening the door calmly and stepping back out into the snow.

Turning sharply, he stormed back in the direction he'd just come from. By the time he reached the apartments again, Erwin was ready to keel over. Shiganshina didn't seem nearly as big when he was riding through on horseback, but on foot, in the snow, on an empty stomach? This was Hell. And he deserved every moment of it. It never once crossed his mind that Thomasin might have mentioned him to other people. It honestly never occurred to him that she even spoke to anyone but him.

Or maybe he just wanted to think that, wanted to believe she existed like some automaton, only winding up and coming to life when he was around. God, he was repugnant. Leaning heavily against her door, he took a moment to catch his breath. His burning calves and heavy lids were tempting him to just close his eyes and go to sleep right there on her doorstep like the wretched stray he was. Knocking weakly, he called out to her again.

"Thomasin. It's Erwin. I know you're there. At least, I think you're there… I hope you're there. I went to your work; your boss told me that you didn't come in today. I know I had no right to do that, but… I need to talk to you. I need to tell you that I'm sorry in person, because there just aren't enough words to convey how sorry I am. The commander didn't approve my formation, and it shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did, but I'm a petty child, and I just wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone after that. And I couldn't write to you because… I just couldn't, okay? I wanted to, but… but I'm awful. You were worried about me, and I didn't even have the decency to tell you I was fine…" His voice caught as his throat tightened. Closing his eyes against the sudden sting, he laid his hand flat against the wooden barrier, wishing in that moment that he were a ghost so he could reach through it and seek out any sign that he was being heard.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If you never forgive me, I'll understand, but… I'm so sorry. Please… please, don't hate me…" If a merciful god would take pity on him, he'd hear shuffling from the room beyond, and the familiar uneven gait he didn't realize he missed as much as he did, and all the locks would have unlatched and he would have been able to properly beg his undeserved forgiveness. But a merciful god wouldn't wouldn't have created humanity then tossed them into a world populated by Titans either, so the room remained silent and the door remained locked.

Utterly defeated, Erwin began the arduous task of dragging himself back to headquarters. The deck of the ferry was wet from all the snow melted by the dozens of passengers, but that didn't deter him from sitting, his weary legs spent. A ravenous beast growled its discontent in his stomach, and he was a moment away from falling asleep where he sat, but the only thing that was truly bothering him in that very moment was the niggling feeling that he'd lived through his pathetic apology once before. But that was nonsense; who had he ever apologized so profusely, so brokenly, to?

He may as well have been drunk as he stepped into the bedroom adjacent his office- he barely remembered how he got back to base. But it didn't matter. Toeing off his boots and letting his now fully wet coat fall to the floor, Erwin collapsed onto the still unmade bed. All he wanted was to sleep until the next morning, but his torment was not yet over. As soon as his head hit the pillow, all the mental exhaustion that had left his mind in a fog vanished, leaving his body bone tired but his thoughts racing full tilt.

"God dammit, just let me sleep. I'm so tired…!" He moaned, on the verge of tears, rolling onto his back. Throwing an arm over his aching eyes, the other collided with his nightstand hard enough to send the shiver of pain all the way up his arm to his neck. Swearing loudly, he shoved the offending piece of furniture, glad to take the day's frustration out on something and fully content with the idea of breaking the damnable thing. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if he were thinking beyond that immediate moment), he didn't knock it over, only sent it wobbling enough for the single drawer it contained to slide open.

A stack of paper lay inside. Envelopes. Letters, these not forced out of sight and mind, but kept as close as they safely could be. Leaning over, Erwin pulled the drawer open fully, shifting through the stack of mail until he found one that had no envelope, folded into an uneven square, none of the edges lining up. Pulling it out, he unfolded it, forcing his gaze not to slip past the illegible scrawl at the top. This time, he made an effort to read it.

Erwin

I gotta leave before the Commander comes. I can't be here anymore. I can't. I can't. Thank you. Thank you for being nice to me, for talking to me, for telling me about your father's theories. Thank you for taking me to the top of Wall Maria. I'm sorry I ruined it. Sorry I made you uncomfortable. Don't hate me for this, but I wish you'd just left me to die in that forest. Sorry.

The letters were shaky on top of being poorly spaced, and so much of the ink was smudged it was hard to tell what was actually misspelled, and what he just thought was misspelled. It was easy to imagine her leaning over a table, trying so hard to write fast that she inadvertently slowed herself down with all the mistakes. He wondered if she had still been upset from the night before, if her tears had fallen on the paper the way his were now.

And yet, you still deign to grace me with your friendship…

Well, you were the only person who ever spoke to me…

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as though the words before him could somehow transfer his plaintive whimpers to the ears of their author. "I'm so sorry. Please, God, just let me say I'm sorry…"

~o0o~

"We missed you yesterday, Captain," Hange declared as they threw themselves onto the trestle bench between Frey and Cecile. "You vanished without a trace and we didn't even notice when you got back."

"We tried bringing you dinner to your quarters, but you didn't answer, so I ate it for you. You're welcome," Cecile told him with a flippant wave of her spoon.

"Apologies. I didn't hear you. I was sleeping fairly deep." It had taken far longer than it should have, but Erwin finally fell asleep the other day, intending only to take a few hours' nap and somehow waking up in the ungodly hours of the morning with no sense as to what time or even day it was. A hot shower and cup of strong tea later, and he was still sitting in the mess hall trying to pull his mind from its sleep addled haze.

"Sleeping like a baby, huh? That means a clean conscience. So you apologized to Lindemann?" Horace asked with a knowing grin.

"I certainly tried to." He traced his finger around the lid of the glass jar beside his plate. "I went all over Shiganshina looking for her, but I think she was just at home, ignoring me."

"Well, you've been kind of a jerk these last few months, so I don't really blame her..." Despite the constant chatter in the hall, the silence at their table was deathly as the older soldiers stared at Hange, aghast. Taking the spoon from their mouth, they met the icy eyes across from them defiantly. "I'm not wrong. You were!" Sighing deeply, Erwin dropped his gaze.

"You're right, Hange. My behavior has been abhorrent, towards you especially. I can only offer my heartfelt apologies, and hope that this doesn't affect our working relationship at the very least." This time, it was Hange's turn to stare in shocked silence, but the messy haired brunette was not one to stay quiet long.

"Aw, c'mon; you know I'm just messing with you, ya big lug. If you really want me to forgive you, though, you'll share some of that jelly you've been sulking over~"

"That was my intention from the beginning." He pushed the jar forward. "This is for all of you." As Hange squealed in delight, Frey looked at Erwin with a slight frown.

"Didn't Thomasin give this to you? Why haven't you eaten it?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" Horace asked sharply, just as Cecile unscrewed the lid, immediately coughing and waving away the smell of wine that filled the air.

"Ugh! You kept it for so long, it fermented!"

"No, it's just made with wine- it's supposed to smell like that." He frowned as well. "…maybe not that strong. But it's fine. I was saving it for something special. Like my formation being accepted…" Frey shook his head, smacking their youngest teammate's wrist with his own spoon as they attempted to dip their finger into the jar.

"It's been the better part of a year; you need to get over that." Erwin bristled.

"No, I don't. I need to stop sulking and behaving like a petulant child, I agree, but I will not 'get over' my efforts to bring a positive change to the Survey Corps. But that's neither here nor there right now. Holding onto this as a… keepsake of someone who probably loathes me is pathetic. I need to be rid of it, but I just can't bring myself eat it."

"I guess guilt would spoil the flavor," Cecile noted, slathering the golden jam onto her toast. "You're so melodramatic, Erwin. 'Woe! Mine beloved despises me; I am wretched!' Instead of assuming you're not talking to an empty room, write her a letter. Even if she just burns it, at least you'll know that your attempts actually reached her." With a solemn nod, he finally started on the food before him.

"I think I will…"

"Well, I hope she doesn't burn it." He paused mid bite, surprised by Hange's tone. They leaned on the table, resting their chin on their palm. A deep sincerity shone in their eyes. "It's one thing when someone is an unrepentant jerk, but if even I can see how truly sorry you are, I'm sure Thomasin would be able to as well. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"Hange…" he breathed. "…are you saying that because you actually care, or because you're hoping that a reconciliation will lead to more jam?" They shrugged with a slight grin, licking a sticky smear off their thumb.

"Hmm, little of column A, little of column B…"

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While snow continued to fall regularly enough that the streets of Trost needed to be cleared every morning before carriages could begin their routes, the most turbulent of storms seemed to have finally passed them. With the success of their last mission, the Survey Corps had been approved funding for several additional expeditions. An old map, from well over fifty years ago, indicated that there was a man-made structure some sixteen kilometers south of Wall Maria, perhaps one of the last fortifications humanity took refuge in before the walls were built. If it was strong enough to withstand Titans in the past, it may still be standing all these years later, and even if not, building upon an existing foundation would be easier than starting from scratch once again.

Their new mission was to reach this structure, laying down supply caches as they ventured beyond the realm of comfort. Erwin hadn't bothered explaining any of that in the letter he'd written to Thomasin. Well, not the one he actually sent- there were a few, far longer drafts in his trash can. He had no right to waste her time, rambling about things that didn't affect her.

All he'd put to paper was the apology he'd said and thought so many times he was beginning to wonder if it was losing its' sincerity, and the date when they'd be venturing out. If he died, she wouldn't be left wondering what happened for months this time. The embers of his selfish ego smoldered in his heart, keeping alive the hope that maybe her eyes would be part of the crowd watching them embark, but bitter self-reproach kept his own eyes firmly on the ground.

It was hard to tell which thought chilled him more- that there'd be no familiar face amongst the crowd and he'd feel like a fool if he dared look for one, or that there might be someone familiar there, wearing the same disdainful expression as the rest of Shiganshina's civilians? It was a disgrace. A soldier- a Scout!- getting so worked up over something so silly, and right as the bell high above the gate began to ring, but… he was allowed to be weak within the walls, surely?

You don't have to be some perfect, untouchable being…

Someone kicked his boot, and he looked up, terrified for a moment that he'd missed the cue. No, the gate wasn't fully risen yet. Glancing over, he noticed that Hange had pulled up beside him, some emotion he couldn't discern leaving their eyes wide and lips twitching.

"What is it?" He whispered sharply, hoping, praying they hadn't spotted something that might spell disaster for their mission. Quickly facing the front, they surreptitiously pointed at something to Erwin's left. Frowning, he looked over, his heart catching in his throat. It had been so long since he'd properly seen her face, her scarf only wrapped around her neck today. Full lips were parted just enough for little puffs of steam to escape them when she exhaled, the way she always looked after he'd been rambling for too long. Shadis' voice filled the area, preparing them to advance, to be ready to give up their lives so humanity could continue advancing without them.

Erwin's body acted without any input from his still-blank mind, his arm raising in a little wave, less a greeting and more a possibly final farewell. She could have ignored him- a part of him hoped she would, it was harder to be disappointed when you expected nothing- but as he set his steed to trot, Thomasin raised her hand as well, her wave just as small. It could have easily gone unnoticed if anything else had mattered within the walls to him at that moment.

Acknowledgment. Positive acknowledgment. That was more than he could have hoped for, and he latched onto it greedily. As they passed through the gate and fanned out, he inhaled deeply. The air smelled sweeter today.

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While the Assembly had allocated a portion of the peoples' taxes towards the future expeditions, the Survey Corps' funding was always a pittance, and the supplies they would be leaving beyond the walls took up the majority of that paltry sum. Rather than allow them to be bled dry by local merchants inflated shipping costs, the commander decided it would be prudent to simply have the Scouts pick up everything that was produced locally. An idea that was entirely his own, to be sure. At the very least, he was no longer using supply runs as a punishment- each squad's trip to whichever district or village they would be getting supplies from was treated as another assigned chore. It had quickly become one of the more favored chores, serving as a rare opportunity to leave the base other than their scarce days off or a gamble with death. It came as little surprise that the Scouts had begun treating their supply runs as recreational outings.

"Open up!" Hange had dipped into one of the many narrow avenues branching off of Shiganshina's main road and returned with a bag of donuts that they were now cramming into their comrades' mouths.

"Where did you even find these?" Cecile sprayed little chunks of dough as she tried to speak and chew at the same time. Horace quickly snatched the barrel she was carrying away from her.

"Chew with your mouth closed, you animal. If you contaminate this yeast, we're fucked." The specialized yeast that preserved almost all of the dry goods kept within the walls was only grown and processed in Wall Maria and its' districts. As they traveled further from the wall, maintaining rations for soldiers as well as horses would be imperative, so the yeast was one of the most valuable commodities on their expenditures list. That didn't stop anyone from eating as they loaded the barrels onto the wagon.

"We can just say it was contaminated when we got it." Hange waved their hand flippantly, crying out in dismay as a piece of their dessert broke off and fell to the ground. "Aww, that one was mine…" Tightening the straps around the last barrels, Erwin hopped down, plucking the partial cake from his subordinate's hand.

"I'll take this one and you can have mine." Their starry-eyed gratitude as they mouthed a "thank you" would have been sweet had they not immediately unhinged their jaw and upturned the bag containing the remaining donut and whatever crumbs lingered into their mouth. Frey shook his head, his lip curled in abject disgust.

"…did you learn to eat from the Titans? Take human-mouth sized bites." Shuddering, he pulled a watch from his pocket. "Looks like we've got about half an hour to kill before we need to head back. Any suggestions?"

"Ooh! Let's go get more donuts!"

"Oh, no!" Horace shoved Hange's excited, greasy hands down. "One round in, and you're already trying to defraud people. We're adults, not children in a candy store… Let's go to a tavern."

"Isn't it a bit early in the day to be drinking?" Erwin raised a disapproving brow, earning a scoff.

"Why don't you ask the Garrison soldiers that? Besides, we don't have to get piss drunk; we can drink responsibly and have an early dinner while we're at it." The idea of a meal other than their usual tasteless affair had universal appeal, and after a few more admittedly halfhearted arguments, Erwin agreed as to the proposal as well. A little time off base, forgetting they were soldiers… that would be nice.

"We need to find somewhere to hitch the wagon- oh…" Cecile's excited grin dimmed. "But what if someone steals our shit?"

"Who's going to steal barrels of yeast?"

"People will steal anything."

"These things weigh almost twenty three kilos each; I think they'll be fine." Horace took the horse's reins and with a click of his tongue, began leading it down the main road. "The better question is, where's a tavern within our price range?"

"This is Shiganshina," Frey reminded the other man. "I'm fairly certain everything here is within our price range. I don't expect fine dining in a district this far south." Cecile scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"You are so elitist, Harlow. 'Mrh, what would these peasants know of fine dining? I bet they don't even serve truffles with their lamb sauce!'." The dark haired man frowned.

"Do you even know what truffles are?"

"Yeah, some bourgeois shit people with more money than sense eat in the Interior."

"Wait, aren't they just mushrooms?" Hange asked, causing Erwin to quickly scour his mind for a half-remembered passage from a book he'd read ages ago.

"They're special mushroom that grow underground, and only in certain forests. I think the reason they're so expensive is because farmers have to breed special dogs to sniff them out." Hange's eyes lit up.

"We have a special dog! We can just put Captain Mike on a leash and have him sniff them out! The Survey Corps' funding problems would be solved in a week!"

"Hange, that… is not a terrible idea…"

Somehow, their conversation turned from the lucrative business of sniffing out mushrooms to an even more lucrative business of breeding an army of super-smelling Zacharias babies. They were only halfheartedly looking for a tavern (having already passed at least two), more focused on remaining upright as their money making schemes grew more and more outlandish, leaving them gasping for air as they cackled.

"That's already a thing; it's called 'prostitution'!"

"Oh. Well, we can just have Mike do that, then!" Honestly, it would have been one of the better moments in Erwin's life if Hange hadn't stopped laughing abruptly, their jaw going slack as they urgently tugged on his sleeve.

"What?" He wheezed, wiping the mirthful tears from his eyes. Their voice was just as breathless as his, though it seemed more from excitement than amusement.

"Look…!" They were pointing excitedly at something the next street over. Finally catching his breath, the blonde man followed Hange's finger, the humor and good mood leaving him all in a rush. "That's her, right?" It could have easily just been any woman standing in front of a merchant stall. Wearing some nondescript coat and skirt with her back turned to them, it would have been impossible to tell, but there was no mistaking those fluffy curls. He could pick her out of a crowd of hundreds without a second glance… As the others' laughter began dying down, they too noticed what had grabbed their younger companions' attention.

"Who is that? A girl?"

"Is that your friend, Erwin?" He was barely paying attention to them. Whatever business Thomasin had with the merchant concluded as he handed her a bag, which she attempted to grab with a hand that was already laden with other goods. Leaning heavily on her crutch, she moved a few to her other hand, taking her new bag and stepping back awkwardly. As she turned, Erwin's body acted on instinct, honed from years of military training, ducking behind the largest source of cover quickly available. Which happened to be Horace. Cecile gasped.

"You did not just do that!"

"Don't judge me," he hissed. "It's complicated." Peeking out from over the older man's hip, Erwin let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She wasn't coming down this way; that was good. If she saw him now, cracking jokes and laughing with his squad after letting her believe he was grievously ill and dead for months… Guilt filled his heart like bubbling tar. That was probably why he didn't feel the hand grabbing his wrist until it had already tugged him back out into the open.

"Let's go say hello!"

"What?" By the time his mind caught up to his body, Hange had already dragged him past several doors, the adjoining street looming ever closer. "No… no! Hange, let go of me right this instant. This isn't funny."

"I should hope not; I'm being dead serious." Erwin dug his heels into the hard packed street beneath the muddy slush, counting on his considerable size to keep him grounded, but what the younger soldier lacked in physical strength, they more than made up for in determination and wickedness. Grabbing his hand with both of theirs, they yanked so hard it was a miracle his arm didn't pop out of its socket. They were only a few paces from the next street; he could break free and run back easily if he just-

"HEEEY! Miss! Hello!" The streets weren't exactly crowded, but they were far from deserted, and as every single person stopped what they were doing to stare, Erwin wondered if wishing for a Titan to appear and devour him on the spot was a bit too much. Thomasin paused, but didn't turn around. She probably wouldn't have had Hange just kept their mouth shut, but the bespectacled solider was taking no prisoners today. "Yes, you! With the crutch! C'mon," they growled under their breath at their captain, dragging him along like a pitiful, near-two meter tall rag doll.

As the dark woman turned around, the eyes that had been narrowed in suspicion widened a hair's breadth, before her expression quickly fell back into one of guarded apathy. Stopping a few feet away, Hange finally let their superior officer go, confident that he wasn't going to turn tail and run away now. The silence was heavy, almost bitter… at least for two of the people present.

"Hi! You probably don't know me, but I know you. That sounds weird, but trust me- it's not! I'm Hange Zoë, of the 95th Western Training Corps." They held their hand out in greeting. A heavily lidded gaze glanced down, staring at the proffered hand for several seconds that stretched on for an eternity, before looking back up to meet slightly lighter brown eyes.

"…charmed."

"Oh! Right, your hands are full. Sorry!" Hange laughed, and Erwin wondered what it felt like to live without any concept of shame. "I'm the newest member of Captain Erwin's squad, so I've heard a lot about you!"

"Is that so…" Thomasin mused under her breath. He could feel her eyes boring holes through his skull, but couldn't raise his own, opting instead to stare at the stones embedded in the frozen ground by her feet. Foot. The bottom of her prosthetic had been wrapped in oilcloth- he imagined all the snow and resulting water and mud couldn't be good long term for the wood. "I take it that's the rest of your squad?" Glancing over his shoulder saw the other Scouts peering out from around the corner, humanity's finest spying on him like a bunch of nosy children. They returned Erwin's glare with cheerful waves and smiles.

"Yep! They'd come over and say 'hi' too, but they're guarding our supplies. That's why we're here; getting supplies for our next expedition. Looks like you are too, ahaha!" Unable to withstand anymore second-hand embarrassment, the blonde man covered his eyes with his palm, wishing he could grow at least one more arm so he could cover both his ears as well. Never had he so envied the deaf and blind…

"Hmm… Well, I wish you good luck on your future expeditions. It was nice meeting you, Hange." Shifting the weight of her bags, Thomasin turned to leave, and the entire painful ordeal could have been over if Hange could have just kept their mouth shut…

"Wait a second! Those bags look awfully heavy…"

"It's alrigh-"

"And you only have one free arm to carry them. That won't do at all… Oh! I know! The captain can help you carry them!" Dropping his hand, Erwin glared at his subordinate, willing them to burst into flames on the spot.

"Why don't you carry them, since you're so concerned with being helpful?" He gritted out through teeth clenched so hard it was a miracle they didn't crack. Their cheerful smile immediately morphed into an entirely unconvincing pained grimace as they whimpered and groaned, clutching their right shoulder.

"Oh, argh, y'know, I'd love to, but I think I pulled something lifting those barrels… Ah, gee, what bad luck. I guess it's gonna have to be you, captain. Especially since the rest of us have to get these supplies back to HQ. Isn't that right , guys?" They raised their voice, and on cue, Horace, Frey and Cecile all quickly agreed, tripping over one another in a display of their sudden eagerness to complete their assignment. 'You traitorous pieces of shit…' Hange pushed him forward, practically skipping back to the others. "You can just return to headquarters when you're done; we'll cover for you if you come back late~"

"I hate you…" he mouthed at their retreating figure.

With the focus of his anger now gone, there was nothing Erwin could do but turn his full attention to the woman in front of him. When she'd waved back a few weeks ago, he'd been hopeful that maybe their relationship wasn't entirely ruined, but here and now, it was as though he was facing a stranger. No, something even less than that. When he'd first made the decision to approach her, all those years ago, he hadn't felt nervous or awkward, not one bit. His fascination with this girl who looked so different from him had served as a buffer, blocking out any embarrassment he probably should have experienced. Now, those feelings- along with a healthy dose of shame- were finally creeping up his spine.

Thank you for being nice to me, for talking to me…

He'd only been nice because he had been intrigued by this living relic of what humanity was like before the walls went up. He'd only talked to her because she listened to his theories without mocking him. And as soon as he'd found something new to fascinate him, in the form of Marie, he'd all but forgotten about her. And now... He was no less a selfish, rotten child at twenty two than he'd been at sixteen.

Thomasin had grown tired of watching him stand there like a fool as his self-loathing raged inside him, sighing and turning away, though not without a final roll of her eyes. Erwin couldn't tell if it was that her sigh sounded almost defeated as much as exasperated, or the visual of her turning her back on him, but something spurred him to move, to speak.

"L-let me help you with that."

"I don't need help." Her voice was quiet, but dark and hard. He imagined her eyes looked much the same, that warm, mahogany gaze replaced with chips of obsidian that would have been filled with hate if she'd deigned to look at him.

"I know," he whispered, closing the distance between them in two long steps to stand beside her. Cecile was right- it was easy, he just had to do it. It would have always been easy, if he hadn't been so stupid... "But I want to help you." He pressed his palms to his thighs to keep his hands from trembling; could she hear his heart pounding as loudly as he could?

The choice was entirely up to her. If she walked away, he would just acknowledge that he had fucked up beyond what was forgivable, and smother that hope in his heart so that it would never again flare up when he caught a glimpse of her on supply runs or returning from expeditions. Sighing again, Thomasin slipped one of the smaller bags to the fingers not gripping her crutch, handing Erwin the largest one. He grabbed it as quickly as he could without outright snatching it from her, fighting back a smile as she transferred the remaining bags to her now free hand. A small part of him wanted to insist he carry all her things, but this was not the time to overstep his boundaries. She knew her limitations better than he ever could.

"Where are we going?" He asked as she began walking, following half a step behind.

"To my house." Of course, that made sense- the apothecary was near the middle of the district, and she was heading north. He wondered how long it took her to learn to navigate these back streets and alleys; everything looked the same to him, and he knew that if he made a single wrong turn, he'd end up hopelessly lost, but she walked with the nonchalant carelessness of a born and bred local.

Their walk was hardly silent, with peoples' voices pouring out from open windows and doors, and carrying from the streets on either side of them, and even the rustling of whatever was in those bags and the dull, dual thumps of wood against the dirt road… but none of those sounds meant anything to Erwin. The only sounds that would have mattered in that moment were those of his and Thomasin's voices, but neither of them spoke a word, and it was the loudest, most painfully awkward silence he'd ever endured. The last time the quiet left him feeling so uncomfortable had been almost fourteen years ago, as he waited for his father to come home, each hour that passed without the door opening and that familiar voice calling out to apologize for being so late twisting his insides into tighter and tighter knots. And once again, the silence was his fault, but at least this time, the person he'd wronged with his foolishness was still alive.

"Thomasin-"

"Erwin-" They both paused mid-step, glancing at one another as their voices intersected. He looked away first.

"You go ahead."

"No, I think you should say whatever you have on your mind before you bolt and I don't hear from you again for six months." He winced, even though he absolutely deserved that. Biting the inside of his cheek, he stepped in front of her, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

"Thomasin… I am so sorry for-"

"You know what? On second thought, I will go first."

"Huh?"

"Erwin, don't apologize to me anymore; I'm sick of it." She began walking around him, and made it about three steps away before he moved to catch up with her.

"But I have to! At least until I know that you've heard me. You probably burned my last letter-"

"I didn't. I actually read your letters. And I heard you both times you came to my house, too." He gaped at her, indignant sputters the only sounds he could choke out.

"But…! Why didn't you say anything?!" She glared up at him, her fingers flexing aggitated around the things they gripped.

"I was in bed. I wasn't feeling well; why else would I be home on a work day? Sorry I wasn't waiting at the door with tea…" She hadn't even raised her voice, but it felt as thought she had punched him in the gut. That was what her boss told him, that she wasn't feeling well, but he'd completely disregarded that. That wasn't a good enough excuse for her to not jump when he decided he wanted to speak with her again. 'I'm awful…'

"I'm sorry…" he whispered miserably, unable to raise his voice any higher. "I'm a terrible person. I won't bother you anymore- I didn't even want to bother you today, but that fucking Hange-"

"So you were going to just keep ignoring me until you died? Unless you were forced to acknowledge me?" The barely-there hurt in her voice had him shut his eyes, unable to stomach any more guilt and knowing he'd drop to his knees if she looked at him with a fraction of that betrayal. "I'm not some pet for you to outgrow and abandon in the woods, Erwin. If you don't want to talk to me anymore, that's fine, but at least have the decency to tell me you're sick of me-"

"I'm not!" He yelled, only aware of how loud he was after his voice reverberated off the white plaster walls and came back to him. "I will never be sick of you! I will always want to talk to you! I just- I just…!" Groaning, he rubbed his temples and brow with his free hand. "…I don't know… I wanted to write to you, and tell you everything- I swear to God, I did; I missed talking to you- but I couldn't, and the longer I didn't, the more I didn't even want to think about it. Last year wasn't great… I felt like I was sleepwalking- one day, I woke up and a month had passed. I- I barely remember half of what happened in those months, and I just couldn't say anything, not even to you…" He laughed humorlessly. "I know that sounds pathetic-" Cold fingers brushed against the back of his hand. Thomasin turned to face him fully, and reached out with the hand that usually gripped her crutch.

"No." He could barely hear her above the background chatter, her eyes wide and filled with a multitude of emotions he couldn't untangle. "It doesn't. It's not pathetic in the slightest… You don't have to apologize anymore, Erwin; I understand." He blinked slowly.

"You do?"

"Yeah… So don't worry about it. I forgive you." Those three little words were like a hammer smashing into the weight that had settled on his chest, shattering it into dust and finally letting him breathe freely again.

"Oh, thank god… I thought you hated me."

"No… I could never hate you, Erwin…" she whispered, turning on her heel and continuing her trek back to her apartment. This time, Erwin adjusted his own pace so as to keep in step beside her. She walked almost as quickly with her prosthetic as she had with two legs, but even back then, he remembered easily overtaking her when they walked back to the barracks after their late night conversations.

"So… what was wrong with you?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you were sick."

"Oh. It was nothing."

"Enough for you to take off work."

"An incomplete bowel movement would be enough to make me take off work, especially in the winter. You think I like hiking through the snow like this?" She shook her wooden peg, and the blonde man bit back a grin.

"No, I suppose not. So, you weren't sick?"

"I wasn't feeling well. There's a lot of middle ground between 'not sick' and 'on one's deathbed', Smith. Don't worry about it." The more she told him not to worry, the more he was going to, but he decided not to push it.

"Well, at least you're better now… I assume. You look good. I mean-! You look healthy…"

"I'll take your word for it." Turning a corner, they walked in silence along another row of houses until Thomasin spoke up again. "Your squad seems… nice."

"No, they're rat bastards, every last one of them."

"Because they made you talk to me?" He hoped the stabbing pain in his chest wasn't visible on his face.

"No, because they're off getting dinner without me. That's what we were doing before Hange spotted you… Well, that and discussing the possibility of selling Mike's sexual services to rich noblewomen to raise funds for the Survey Corps…" Thomasin clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"For shame, Erwin. Talking about using your friend in such a way without offering your own services as well…"

"Who would want me?"

"Probably more people than would want him."

"People? Not women?"

"You'd make more money offering your services to men." He opened his mouth to argue, but quickly closed it, realizing that she was right. After all, the brothel down the street from their Trost headquarters always had a steady stream of clients coming and going, but in all the years he'd lived there, the number of female clients could be counted on one hand. He shrugged.

"Guess we're going to have to sell Mike to noble men then. Twenty Rose coins is twenty Rose coins."

"Imagine what Commander Shadis would say if he heard the nonsense you were spouting."

"He'd be mad that he didn't think of it first."

"He'd have you working those streets right next to Mike." Erwin laughed, and to his delight, Thomasin joined him. Just like that, it felt as if the distance, the silence, had never happened. He thought back to the note that was once again folded in his bedside drawer, its already illegible scrawl made even more so by his own tears.

Don't hate me for this, but…

"Thomasin?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're alive." That was probably the most awkward non-sequitur he could have said, but he felt absolutely no embarrassment on his part. Only anger for not taking the few seconds necessary to read her note sooner, for not ending all his letters that way, for not telling her that at least once every time they saw each other. She leaned her shoulder against his arm, giving him a slight nudge.

"I'm glad you're alive too, Erwin. Try to keep it that way, yeah?"

"Yeah…" They didn't speak for a long time after that, but they walked close enough together that their knuckles would brush now and then.

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A/N- Ugh, I really, REALLY hate the limitations of FFN's formatting. Thomasin's note is supposed to have the majority of text struck through to represent the difficulty in reading it, but strike-throughs don't show up on this site! And neither does the left-alligned text for letters. So you'll have to use your imagination (or hop over to AO3 to see what it looks like when formatted properly).

Okay, so… I bought the AoT guidebook and I wrote parts of this chapter the night before it came in the mail… specifically, the part about the yeast. Imagine my pleasant surprise when I read the book and it directly contradicts that ONE thing. So… yeah, fuck that- consider this the first instance of canon divergence. Anyway, I shouldn't toot my own horn, but I love all of my non-Thomasin OCs so much. Squads Twelve and Thirteen are lovable idiots. It was probably Cecile who thought she invented the concept of prostitution. Her and Lisa would absolutely organize some kind of sexy shirtless Survey Corps calendar.