Reasons

by SilverShadow1711

The world could be a cruel, wicked place, filled with nightmares and terrors unending. Erwin Smith made the choice to throw himself into those nightmares, but even the most steadfast man is not an island. At the very least, there was someone he could fall back on, even if it took him some time to realize it. (Erwin backstory-centric, the slowest of slow burns. Cross-posted on AO3)

15. Life

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Ch.15- "Life"

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The sun had only just begun painting the horizon with a wash of pale amber when the Survey Corps readied their mounts, fingers jittering with nervous anticipation and restrained excitement as they tightened their saddles and adjusted their bridles. This would be the first time in over fifty years that humanity set foot into the territory only their ancestors had trekked before them. By the time the sun crested high enough for suitable visibility, they'd ridden about half a kilometer from their base. There was nothing but wide, open plains as far as Erwin could see, nothing that would hamper visibility, but no means of fighting Titans on anything approaching remotely even footing. He pulled up closer to Commander Shadis, the older man's mouth set in a thin, grim line.

"Sir, I think it's time we deploy the formation."

"Well, what are you waiting for, Smith? Give the order." He gaped stupidly for a moment, before quickly recollecting himself. This was nothing new- he'd been "giving the order" since Mike first sneakily left him in charge of the rearguard. It was no different this time. He only needed the squads behind him to hear; everyone else would fan out from there, just like they'd practiced. Filling his lungs as deeply as he could, Erwin let his voice ring out over the plains, the first human voice to carry across them in over a century.

"All squads! Deploy the Long-Distance Scouting Formation!" He threw out his arm, the signal to break, and dared to glance behind himself for all of a second. Pairs and groups branched out, just as they had practiced within Wall Rose, but it felt so… real seeing it out here. Turning his attention back to the land before him, he relaxed ever so slightly.

"What's with that devious smirk, Smith?" Shadis' voice cut through his thoughts, and the blonde man quickly rearranged his expression into something more befitting a section commander.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't-"

"Lighten up, Smith." The older man didn't smile, but there was a lightness to his voice that made Erwin think maybe he would have smiled a long time ago. "You're too damn young to be so serious all the time. I give you permission to be proud of yourself, just this once." He hoped his smile didn't read as "devious" this time…

"Thank you, sir."

It didn't take long before the first pillars of red smoke were sighted, from the northeast, somewhere around where Frey and Horace were stationed. Given that he had the most experience plotting new courses, Erwin had been left in charge of the green smokeshells, and as he fired the first one of the day off, the sight of dozens of green pillars rising up from the northwest like a wave filled his chest with the warmth of hope. If they could complete just one mission without any casualties, just one…

~o0o~

They'd been riding for almost two hours, alternating between canters and short bursts of gallops when a wave of red smoke filled an area. They'd have to stop soon, to set up a new supply cache and rest, but it was hard to find any place where they could safely do so. The further they rode, the fewer clumps of trees they passed.

"I think we might just have to risk it and stop in the open, sir," Erwin called out the commander, his attention constantly being drawn up to the sky. Lieutenant Dresden rode up closer to the pair, his lips turned down.

"We'll be sitting ducks if we do that, Smith- there are no less than fourteen Titans behind us."

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant…" Fourteen clouds of red and green smoke, but no black… and surprisingly enough, no blue from the northeast, either. "But I'm more worried about riding our horses to death. We'll really be up a creek then, so to speak."

"The real concern right now are those clouds." Shadis' voice rang out over both of the other mens', calm but with the slightest tinge of apprehension. "There are trees about half a kilometer from here. Hopefully we can beat the storm there." The day had started so clear, the sky that beautiful shade of summer blue, what few clouds drifted lazily across it fluffy and white… Of course, storms gathered quickly in the summer, often with little warning.

Erwin tried to ignore how dark everything in front of them looked, as though night had fallen in the middle of the day, but it was impossible to keep his thoughts straight when the smell of petrichor had already reached them, the air already heavy and damp. He was already unscrewing the canister of green powder and reaching for one filled with yellow, their signal to close ranks in an emergency, when the first heavy drops splashed across his skin. One became two became a dozen, and by the time he pulled his evergreen hood up, the sky opened.

"What the hell is this…?" A crack of lightning close enough to make him flinch swallowed the rest of the commander's words. The trees they'd finally reached weren't anywhere near a forest, but they were clustered tightly enough to provide some cover. Raising his arm high and squinting against the icy spray pelting his face, Erwin pulled the trigger on his flare gun. The yellow plume rose high, bright smoke highly visible against the dark clouds but immediately dissipating in the rain and howling wind. Slowing his horse to a trot, he put his flare back in the saddlebag, closing the buckle as quickly as he could with his fingers shaking. The area ahead of them was a void, fog so thick he was certain he'd feel resistance if he reached out to touch it.

"Commander… we can no longer scout ahead. We should expect to encounter a Titan at any moment…" Shadis stopped, and the other men followed suit. Between his cowl pulled up all the way and the rain and the fog, all Erwin could see of him was the set of his mouth.

"Dresden. Fire off a sound grenade. Hopefully everyone was smart enough to slow down and someone's close enough to hear it."

"Yes sir." Erwin covered his ears in anticipation of the shot, allowing himself a moment of weakness to close his eyes as well.

Seven years later, and nothing had changed. How many arms and legs were they going to have toss into the wagons this time, how long would they scour the sodden grass looking for a chunk of meat big enough to identify? Maybe someone would be lucky, and he'd pull them out of a dead Titan's mouth only missing a leg, or maybe they'd be missing a lot more and they'd just toss them back to let the scavengers finish off- Pulling his hands away, the ringing in his ears was getting louder… no. Screaming. So much screaming…

"East…" He was already turning his horse around- that was where Mike's squad was stationed-

"Smith!" Shadis grabbed his reins, snatching them roughly from his already freezing hands. "Where do you think you're going?" He whipped around to glare at the commander.

"There are Titans-"

"You don't know that!" The older man lowered his voice, just barely audible over the hiss of rain, the rumble of thunder, the screams of the dying. "That could just as easily be your little thug, cutting a bloody swath through our soldiers to get to you, and you want to run off to meet him halfway? I thought you were smart, Erwin." He raised his voice. "Karl, go see what that's about and report back." Pale blue eyes widened, fear a hook tugging at his heart.

"You can't send him without backup, sir!"

"Hey!" The lieutenant's voice bristled with the mildest of indignation. "I've been doing this longer than you, Smith. Give your elders a little credit." Taking off at little more than a trot, the other man quickly vanished between the trees, the fog swallowing any trace of him. Shadis lowered his voice again.

"You see how quickly we lost sight of him? What do you think would happen to you if you met Levi in that fog?"

"…you're right, sir…" All he could do was wait, and pray that the rumbling was coming from the thunder. Fortunately, there were squads close enough to have heard their sound grenade and passed it on, eight Scouts appearing from the southwest, their terrified eyes filling with relief as soon as they spotted more familiar faces.

"Oh, thank God!"

"Commander, you're alright!"

"Section Commander!"

"I thought I was gonna die out there!"

"Where's Squad-"

"Has anyone seen-"

"Erwin!" That voice was coming from the east.

"Mike!" He looked around frantically, as though the fog would somehow take pity on him. It didn't thin out any, but the approaching captain was such a large figure that his silhouette appeared fairly easily. As the taller man spotted him waving, he rode over, leading a spare horse and trying and failing to shake his hair from his eyes. Shadis' face was set in stone as he rode over to meet his captain.

"Zacharias, did you pass Lieutenant Dresden?"

"What?" Panting, Mike shook his head. "No. I didn't pass anyone. Everyone is… The upper right quadrant is…" As he bowed his head, all the relieved and still worried voices fell silent, fear spreading over them just as the fog did.

"Titans?"

"Must've been."

"…how many?"

"Don't know. I didn't even smell any, Commander. They were gone far enough that the rain washed away their scent. Just saw footprints and… and what they left behind." Erwin's nails dug into his palms, the pain almost enough to calm his frenzied thoughts.

"There may still be survivors. Mike, can you lead us back through this fog?"

"Probably not, but… I'll try." His quiet voice was even softer than usual, a bitter whisper barely louder than the rain. As he turned his horse back towards the fog and Erwin made to follow suit, the commander pulled his horse in front of the younger of the men.

"Smith! What did I just tell you?"

"It's a chance we have to take, Commander! We can't just sit here, cowering, while our comrades lay dying!" He called over Shadis' shoulder, "Does anyone have spare horses?" Three of the soldiers raised their hands. "You come with us. Commander Shadis, I suggest you stay here in case Lieutenant Dresden returns, and hopefully, the convoy will reach us soon." Moving around the older man, the small group headed into the mist. Erwin pulled up beside Mike, keeping his voice low. "Your squad…?"

"Don't know…" The taller man may as well have been carved from stone for as much emotion made its way to the surface. Of course, his long, dark blonde hair was all but plastered over his eyes, hiding any glimpse of what he was feeling. "I sent Gerwalt and Nanaba towards the convoy when we heard the screams. Hope they didn't get separated…"

"They'll be fine." It didn't take long for the first signs of carnage to show up. A pair of legs, holsters still attached, were half buried in the mud. Judging from the already filled depression around them, a Titan stepped on them after they fell from whatever mouth consumed their upper half. Only a bit further, and the remnants of their brothers and sisters grew more concentrated. So many nearly whole bodies, those who weren't missing their heads or face down in the soup of crimson mud almost unilaterally wearing expressions frozen in pure terror. Even when it came unseen and unexpected, death beyond the walls never claimed its' victims gently.

"Section Commander? The rain is slowing down…" He hadn't even noticed, probably wouldn't have, too busy staring at the body of a young man missing his leg. Erwin doubted a tourniquet would have helped him much, given that his intestines were squeezing out through the hole where his hip used to be.

As the sky gradually lightened, thin tendrils of sun reaching through the still dark clouds and bringing a bit of warmth with them, the fog thinned. Just enough for them to make out the footprints left behind by a dizzying dance of abominations. Mike lifted his head, sniffing the air, before digging his heels into his horse's sides and breaking off into a canter southeast. Swearing under his breath, Erwin commanded the other Scouts to continue searching for survivors as he followed his friend.

"What is it? Titans?"

"They used to be…" Inhaling deeply, he slumped in his saddle as he led Erwin further south. "Oh, fuck me, fuck me…! Why'd I send them by themselves? Why didn't I go with them…?!"

"Mike! Listen to me. They will be fine. You know that." He reached out, giving the other man's arm a squeeze. Mike turned to him, his eyes still obscured, but the way his lips twitched enough of a tell that he didn't believe the other man's words.

"This is my third squad, Erwin… I can't- I can't… I just can't…"

"You won't. They're fine. They've met up with the convoy- half of my squad is there too." And the rest of his squad was part of the north quadrant that had been wiped out… Pulling on the reins, Erwin stopped as a cloud of foul smelling fog rolled over them. No, not fog…

"There are our Titans… Or, what's left of them." There were no voices, no calls for help or survivors. As they rode towards the source of the steam, Mike put his worries from his mind long enough for new worries to take their place.

"There's gotta be someone still alive. There'd still be a living Titan if everyone was killed."

"It's him." Erwin's voice was calm, belying the tightness in his chest. "I know it's him. Hey! Are there any survivors out here?!" A single figure knelt amidst the decaying carcasses of Titans and what few scraps remained of their victims. Riding closer, he recognized the dark hair, only noting the man's stature as he slowly rose, some strange being baptized in rain and the quickly evaporating blood of the beasts he'd slain. "Levi! Are you the only one left?"

"Erwin, don't get to close-" Mike tried to pull him back, but he was drawn to scene of death before him, a moth to flame.

"Did you do this alone-?" Levi turned to face him, hate where his eyes would have been. His feet left the ground and- 'Oh. You flyreallywell without ODM gear…' A body collided with his, too fast, too dense for something so small, a cannonball driving an arm into his throat and knocking him off his saddle.

The ground was soft enough to keep them from riding full gallop, and yet Erwin's skull bounced so hard his teeth clacked together when he landed, something sharp tearing through his neck, the small of his back. A familiar voice was calling his name, one he could barely hear over the ringing in his ears, the pathetic pained sounds that left his lips. His back was ablaze. Was he paralyzed? No one wanted to acknowledge it, but snapping your neck via vertical maneuvering mishap or being thrown from a horse claimed the lives of just as many Scouts as Titans squeezing them and doing the same.

Pushing down the pain, he forced his fingers to move, and when they did, tried to wiggle his toes. It felt as though someone had driven a red hot poker into his left leg, but his appendages were still moving, if one could call those pathetic twitches movement. Fighting to catch his breath, Erwin pushed himself to his knees, his hands slipping in the mud. He barely noticed the blade leveled against his neck despite its edge brushing his jaw, almost a caress.

"Erwin. I'm going to kill you now, you bastard. That's why I'm here." Levi almost looked tall standing over him. He would have laughed if his head hadn't been ringing like the bell above the outer Shiganshina gate. Was this what they called divine retribution? Mike stood behind the dark-haired man, his own sword in hand, every muscle poised to strike at a moment's notice. He was too far to stop the blade severing Erwin's throat, but that wasn't important. If he died- Isn't that enough…?! …Huh. What a strange thing to remember at a time like this… Was she imagining this exact scenario playing out right now? God, he hoped not…

"Oh. Is that all? You could have done that months ago. Is that why you separated from your squad?" A muscle jumped in Levi's cheek. "There's not a scratch or stain on you- you weren't ambushed. What were you coming after me for? The same thing your friend was rifling through my belongings hoping to find? Which one was it, Furlan-?"

"Don't you fucking say his name!" Levi spat, his voice dripping venom, hoarse with loathing. Wincing, Erwin reached under his cloak, into his interior pocket. Even hidden beneath two layers of thick cotton, the envelope had been soaked through, the paper around the wax seal tearing.

"This is what you wanted, right? What he wanted, at least. What I supposedly have on Nicholas Lobov." The smallest twitch of a thin, nearly drawn-on eyebrow.

"So, you knew…" The blonde man threw the envelope down at his captor's feet, the already saturated paper tearing and spilling its contents onto the mud. The stationary was high quality, the paper itself perfumed- Lady Glass had good taste, he'd give her that. Alas, the overbearing stench of vetiver had been giving him headaches for the past several months. "Oi. What the fuck is this?"

"It's what your friend's been trying to steal. Go on, take it." The blade kissed his neck, the sting of his skin splitting a prelude to the blood welling up and running down his throat to join the rivulets of rain and sweat.

"Wha… what are you trying to say…?"

"You didn't think I was stupid enough to keep such sensitive documents anywhere near my person, did you?" The blade pressed deeper into his flesh, and Erwin couldn't stop the hiss of pain escaping his lips. "I'm sorry Lobov involved you in this-"

"No." Levi's voice was raw with pain. "You involved us in this…! Why did you bring us into the Survey Corps!?"

"For your exceptional ODM prowess," he answered plainly. "I was planning on recruiting you before Lobov even knew I was onto him. …I hope you weren't thinking about killing me now and running back to him to get citizenship in the Interior. The real documents are already in the hands of the Premier, and I don't think Lobov has any use for you anymore." Levi drew his trembling lips back from his teeth, a snarl that would have looked more vicious if Erwin wasn't sure most of what dripped from his chin was tears.

"It wasn't worth throwing their lives away… They weren't pawns in your shitty, worthless game…" The pity he felt for the other man was quickly being replaced by anger. 'Pawns? My game…?!' "It doesn't matter… You lose!" He knew full well how fast Levi was with a blade, how strong he was. He'd snapped ultra-hardened steel in half with a single blow. The only reason Erwin still had a hand, much less a head, was because the other man was holding back. Murderous hatred was not nearly so strong when contaminated with grief, though strong enough that he had to push the blade down with more strength than he really had, his body running purely on adrenaline.

" 'Worthless game'… You think any of this is a game to me? You think this is in good fun, stepping over the bodies of my subordinates, my friends- your friends?!" Levi's hand trembled and he manged to force the blade further from his neck. The pain radiating down his spine was indescribable, the brand pressed into his palm throbbing in time to his erratic pulse. "Did I kill these people when you decided to run off on your own?"

"…no," the shorter man spat, sucking in sharp breaths through his clenched teeth, "I did. It was my conceit, my fucking pride-!"

"No! It was the Titans!" Pushing the blade down entirely, its edge slid along the already severed skin and muscles, and Erwin felt as though someone had poured fire into his veins, but he didn't care about the pain. He deserved this pain- he deserved all of this, why didn't they push this back another month? "For all our faults, we are not monsters who slaughter people…" 'No, I just lead them to the slaughter, herding lambs into the wolves' den…'

"These beasts are the ones to blame. They, and greedy, wicked men like Nicholas Lobov who are no better than them, would see all of humanity fall to the same fate. They would keep us ignorant and complacent, and as long as we stay ignorant and complacent, we will keep dying, be it eaten by Titans outside the walls, or in squalor underneath them. Do we not deserve to know why- why these things exist, why they eat us, why they've herded us into a cage?Look around you, Levi. This is freedom… Out here, there may be something to free us from our despair… Your friends experienced this, when there are hundreds of thousands who will live and die never seeing the horizon. Is this 'worthless' to you?" Breathing hard, he slowly got his feet under him, biting the inside of his cheek until copper exploded on his tongue to keep from screaming.

"The world within the walls may be larger and brighter than the Underground, but it's just as much of a cage. Are you going to return to that cage, Levi? Killing me won't bring your friends back… but fighting with the Survey Corps and killing these monsters might ensure that one day, no one else will have to feel the pain you feel right now… Fight with us! Humanity needs you!" Erwin couldn't even hazard a guess as to what was going through Levi's mind at that moment. It seemed the tears had dried up for now, but he looked so tired and lost and alone… He let his arm fall to his side, thumbing the release switch and dropping the bloody blade into the mud.

"…is this worth it…?" he whispered, gray eyes staring at something far away that probably only he could see. He'd asked Thomasin the same thing a few months ago, Was it worth it? Ruining your life just to go beyond the walls…? Erwin closed his eyes, all the pain and exhaustion and disappointment catching up to him.

"I like to think it will be, one day. I don't know if I'll be alive to see it, but… I think it will be…"

~o0o~

Levi had silently climbed into the saddle of their spare horse, and when Erwin tried to do the same, the agony searing through his spine had nearly dropped him to his knees. If Mike hadn't been there to help lift him enough that he could get his foot in the stirrup and gracelessly clamber into the saddle, he would have just had to lay down amongst the dead and wait for a Titan to come after him.

"Can you ride?"

"No, but what choice do I have?" His vision was blurring and coming far too sharp into focus in time to his heart, which itself was pounding much too loud in his ears. Loathing hardened Mike's features as he glanced at the dark-haired man behind them, quickly turning his attention back to the injured one beside him.

"You're losing a lot of blood. Keep your hand over your heart."

"Heh, this is the wrong hand for a salute, Captain- please don't glare at me…" He didn't have a clue how he'd out-maneuver a Titan if one showed up. He could barely turn his horse around; even setting off at a walk was sending jolts of pure agony radiating through every nerve. "Hopefully, the supply wagons have made it to the Commander. We'll get dry sound grenades and reform using the forest as a base."

"Hopefully the rain's washed our scent away enough that any other Titans in the area have left. I'll breathe easier if we can take them on after we've regrouped."

"Levi." The other man hadn't said a word, staring at the remains still laying in the mud, the last of the Titan bones crumbling into ash and cinders. "Come. Looking back won't help anyone."

Through sheer force of will alone, Erwin managed to work his horse to a canter without screaming aloud, though his mind was certainly filled with all manner of anguished howls and colorful swears. The edges of his vision were strangely dark, and for one horrible second, he feared another storm might be brewing, but the sky before them had cleared. They would be following the dark clouds back to their castle base. The wagons, as well as a few dozen more Scouts, made it to the forest before they did. Shadis rode out to meet them, golden eyes hard with suspicion as he looked between Erwin and Levi.

"What happened to you, Smith?"

"My horse stumbled and threw me. Squad Seven has been-" The commander held up a hand to silence him.

"You were knocked off your horse?"

"Fell—"

"Cut the bullshit. You 'fell' from that high?" The already raised hand reached out, roughly gripping Erwin's jaw and forcing him to look at his CO. Or at least, try to look at him. It was getting hard to focus. "Can you go one goddamn mission in the rain without getting incapacitated? You have a concussion- let's pray that's all that's wrong with you…" Well, that explained why he felt like he was going to vomit at any second, at least. "Go lay down in the wagon. We'll somehow manage without you. Zacharias, help Smith off his horse then report back to me."

"Yes sir." The nearest supply wagon was already mostly unloaded, two of the captains already preparing stretchers in case they found more injured. He couldn't bite back his pained groan despite how carefully he swung his leg over the saddle. "You don't look good, Smith…" Mike's hands were gentle as he practically carried him to the wagon, a far cry from the seething rage lacing his voice. "I'm gonna kill that fucking midget bastard, I swear to God… I should've drowned his ass in that god damn sewage like the rat he is-"

"Mike, if I die out here, don't tell Thomasin it's 'cause I fell off my horse. No, wait, actually-" he frowned, laying back with a deep wince, "-do tell her that. It might make her laugh…"

"Don't fucking joke about that, Erwin. If you die right now, I will follow you to hell and bring you back to life just so I can kill you myself."

"No one is going to die on my watch…" The wagon creaked slightly as Captain Glover climbed onto it beside Erwin, and she used the arm not filled with medical supplies to shoo Mike away. "Get back to the commander, Zacharias. Now, you fell off your horse, Smith…?"

"I didn't just dive off because the ground looked so inviting- he stumbled and threw me."

"Hmm…" Taking hold of his wrist, she frowned at the deep gash still pumping blood down his sleeve. "This is from falling?"

"Falling with my blades out."

"Well, it's going to need stitches. Lots of stitches. That cut on your neck, too. I worry you might have a severed tendon in your hand, hopefully nothing too important…" Sighing deeply, the other captain uncorked a dark brown bottle, the smell of alcohol filling the air. "That's a bit beyond my expertise. If you don't get an infection by the time we get back to the walls, maybe we can sort you out. Do you have any numbness in your legs?" He hissed sharply as the cold liquid made contact with his exposed muscles, his right hand balling instinctively in the leather binding wrapped around his hips in a desperate effort to ground himself.

"Not… numbness. Stabbing pain. I think I broke something when I landed."

"Well, not your spine, or you wouldn't have ridden here. We'll have to check you for internal bleeding when we get back to base. Hopefully, you'll live that long." With his cuts cleaned and bandaged as well as could be with their supplies damp, the medic removed her own cloak, folding it and placing it under his head as a makeshift pillow before climbing down from the wagon. "I'll have someone check on you in a while. Try not to fall asleep."

He wanted to assure her that wouldn't be a problem, what with all the noise and commotion going on around him, but troublingly, that wasn't proving to be nearly enough of a deterrent to keep his eyelids from growing heavy. Every time he forced them open, the world flashed a blinding white, and that was tempting him to keep his eyes closed just as much as anything.

"Is this what it's always like?" It took an eternity for his mind to process both the words spoken to him and the voice speaking them. Shifting his head as much as he could without the stabbing in his temples overwhelming him, Erwin locked eyes with an impassive gray gaze. Vaguely, he wondered how Levi could even see over the side of the wagon before realizing he was sitting a horse.

"What what's like?"

"Your expeditions. Riding through all this nothing, getting eaten by Titans, scrambling to get back to the walls so you can do it all over again in a few months…"

"…pretty much," he whispered. His mouth was so dry, but he'd ask a Titan for water before asking the man barely paying him any mind. "I know it won't ever seem like it to you… but today was a crowning achievement for humanity. That 'nothing' we rode through… was land that humans haven't set foot on for over a century. Not since our great grandparents fled behind the walls…" Levi remained silent for a long time, and Erwin felt his eyes begin to drift shut. He wasn't going to sleep, he was just resting them until it was time to leave…

"So what do you with all the bodies? Leave them in case the Titans get hungry?" He was starting to get frustrated- was there no one else who could answer these questions? Well, no- he knew that. And he sympathized with the man, as much as he could given his current state. With the only people he'd had a connection to gone, Erwin was the closest thing to a friendly face Levi could turn to in the Corps. It was understandable that he wouldn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now, would want to make at least some sense of this chaos.

"Titans don't eat the dead." As evidenced by so many almost intact bodies left in their wake. They clearly weren't hunting humans because they hungered for meat. "We'll try to recover as many bodies as possible, or whatever's left of them, at least. They'll be buried if their next of kin claims them fast enough, cremated otherwise…" Levi's lips pulled down into an even more severe frown. "…Do your friends have any family?"

"Me." Erwin figured as much.

"Then you can decide what we do with their remains. When we return to base, I can help you make burial arrangements-"

"Can't you just… leave them here?" Unfocused blue eyes blinked slowly, trying to think through the fog clouding his mind.

"We can, but-"

"Then do that. People in the Underground just get swept into the gutter when they die. Can't imagine it's much different for anyone who isn't some rich piece of shit up here." Pain flitted across Levi's cold gray eyes. "Out here, there's no one to look down on them. No filthy ceiling blocking the sky…"

It was the first time Erwin had ever heard of someone wanting their loved ones' remains to stay beyond the walls. Usually, not being able to recover a body was the most heartbreaking thing for the family of a Scout, even more traumatic than the death itself. But the dead did not think or feel; funerals were for the comfort of the living, and if it would comfort Levi to know his friends' final resting ground was as far away from the horrid place they'd finally escaped as possible, then they would honor his wish.

"Alright. I'll tell the commander when we commence recovery."

~o0o~

The sun was just starting to set when they returned to their base beyond the walls, stars barely visible against the deepest indigo. Erwin barely remembered anything of the journey back- even with the wagon's state-of-the-art suspension system, every little jostle felt as though he were being clubbed to death. His back, his arms and legs, and the blasting migraine tearing through his skull all contributed to him snapping back to consciousness to pull himself over the side of the wagon to retch. Captain Glover repeatedly told him to stay put before he fell out, but if given the choice between being crushed under a wagon or choking on his own vomit, he'd gladly choose the former.

He'd blinked as the thundering of hooves eased into a less aggressive beat, and when he opened his eyes once more, he was staring at the ancient eaves of the forgotten castle. Judging by the moans and whimpers and muffled sobs around him, he had been carted into some corner away from the general sleeping area with the rest of the injured. As grateful as he was that he wouldn't have to worry about someone potentially tripping over him, a loneliness tightened his chest. He couldn't even lift his head to see who was there with him. Despite the sounds of other people, it felt like he was alone in his own horrible world, with nothing and no one to distract him from the pain that was ramping up once more, or from his thoughts.

Fortunately- or not- the lack of outside stimulus tempted his eyes closed once again, the void of sleep swallowing him for what could have only been a second before someone called to him, pulling him back to the waking world. Groaning softly, he dragged himself back to the shores of consciousness, his eyes taking a long time to adjust to the gloom. Two faces loomed over him, their expressions carefully guarded.

"How do you feel, Erwin?" Cecile whispered. He tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry to utter more than a hoarse croak. Someone placed a water skin against his bleeding lips, a hand under his head lifting him enough to drink. The water was almost warm, most of it spilling down his neck and soaking into the bandages wrapped around his throat, but he still moaned in relief.

"I feel fine," he lied, those simple words winding him. "Where's Frey? Where's Hange…?"

"Hange is… outside. They… aren't taking this failure well…"

"And Frey?" Horace bowed his head, like a scolded child. His voice was little more than a breath.

"Laying about two meters away from you. He got grabbed by a Titan. He's not dead… yet." His jaw clenched as he screwed his eyes shut. "It'd be kinder to just kill him instead of letting him suffer, but no, that goes against the Charters of Humanity-"

"Horace, shut up…!" Cecile hissed, her eyes too fearful to be angry. "Don't talk about that now."

"It's true-!"

"I don't care! Shut up!" Erwin lay there in silence, listening to the pair bicker without actually hearing anything they were saying. Two meters… why so far away? He couldn't sit up, couldn't even lift his head to see which of the tormented bodies around him was his squad mate. Why not let him lay down next to Frey, so he could at least thank him for doing his duty so well, and apologize for being such a terrible leader as to let him get killed? Licking his lips, he tried to ignore the taste of bile and copper.

"Could you go get Hange? I want to see them." After a few more harsh whispers he couldn't make out, Horace got to his feet, fading into the darkness as soon as Erwin blinked. What other horrors were being hidden from him? How many bodies were piled up in those wagons outside, their guards armed with guns because it wasn't Titans the smell of all that dead meat would attract…?

"This isn't your fault, Erwin." A gentle hand gave his own a light pat, mindful of whatever injury lay under the uncomfortably damp bandages. Her fingers were cold- she must have been outside all this time. "You planned everything perfectly. Even you can't control the weather."

"You'd think I'd be used to storms ruining everything by now… and would have a plan in place for them…" Inhaling, he nearly cried out as a sharp ache tore through his back again. He couldn't squeeze Cecile's fingers with his injured hand as much as he wished he could, so he let his right clench into the rough blanket beneath him as he rode out the pain. All this, just from hitting the ground wrong… "How bad off is Frey?"

"He's breathing," she said, her voice low. "I don't know for how much longer, though. I'm honestly surprised he's still going. He's such a fighter…!" She clapped a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the sob that already left her lips. She could do nothing about the tears running over her fingers as her shoulders shook. The pain was almost more than he could stand, but Erwin turned his injured hand enough that he could lightly stroke Cecile's fingers with his thumb. It was all the comfort he was in any shape to offer. Louder sobbing came closer, not unseemly wails, but the weeping of one not even trying to hold back their tears.

"Sorry, I can't calm 'em down," Horace muttered. "Maybe we should leave-"

"Erwin!" There was a thump beside him and something heavy pressed into his chest, the weeping now muffled.

"Hange…"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I couldn't do anything! You gave me one job and I couldn't do it!"

"It's alright."

"There were so many Titans- I didn't even see where they came from!"

"You did your best-"

"No!" They looked up finally, and Erwin noticed that their glasses were pushed onto their forehead, already messy bangs further tangled around the frames from leaning on him. He felt the damp through his shirt, their cheeks already glistening with fresh tears. "I didn't 'do my best'! I froze! Like a coward! I stood there like a coward while the new recruits were slaughtered!" The anger that had been lit inside them for that brief moment was extinguished at once and their face crumpled, tears leaking from their tightly shut eyes to join the trails already on their cheeks. "I hate this… I hate the Titans, but I hate me even more… It should've been me who died, not them…!"

I wish you'd just left me to die…

"Hange… bend down a little." Sniffling, and looking as confused as they were miserable, they obeyed, leaning forward on their knees. His back screamed its protest, but Erwin raised his arm, drying the younger soldier's cheeks with far less grace than he would have liked. "You need to calm down, Hange. Collect yourself. Thinking like that isn't going to help anyone, especially out in the field." As carefully as he could, he brought their glasses down, settling them somewhat crooked on the curved bridge of their nose. Sniffling again, their hands instinctively went up to adjust the lenses. "You can be upset when we get back inside the walls. You can scream and cry and break things, but not here. Not now. Not when those feelings will endanger others and yourself."

"…is that an order, sir?"

"It is. And this is another, one that supersedes any other order I'll ever give you: you can regret the deaths of your fellow Scouts, but never regret that you haven't yet joined them. They gave their lives for humanity; that includes you. Don't regret their sacrifice." Hange's lip trembled something fierce, tears catching on the lenses of their glasses as they blinked rapidly, but they did not begin openly sobbing again.

"Yes, Section Commander…" Patting their knee, he laid his arm across his stomach, letting his eyes close.

"Try to get some rest. All of you. You've all done very well today, and I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks, Section Commander."

"Thank you, sir." Slightly warmer fingers squeezed his own very softly.

"We're proud of you too, Erwin." He could hear their boots scuffing the stone as they picked their way between the rest of the bodies laying around him.

Erwin focused on his breathing until he could barely hear any more steps, fighting to keep his face straight as his throat tightened. Tears slipped past his lashes, running along the curve of his cheekbones before dripping into the short hair beside his ears. Everything he had said today, to Levi, to Hange- it was all objectively true. This expedition was a step forward for humanity, however small, and those who died and would die in the coming days did give their lives for the whole of humanity the living were still a part of, even him… But knowing those things were true didn't make them feel true, certainly not to him. He didn't know how anyone could believe the things he said when he wouldn't have believed them himself.

Despite the pain in his body and heart alike, he remained quiet, digging his nails into his palm, biting his already cracked lip until it split when the urge to cry out- be it in sorrow or agony- grew too strong. He did not begrudge the other injured Scouts their tears or screams; he simply had no right to burden them with his own. In his mind, a soft but tired voice muttered to him, It's okay for you to come down to our level once in a while…

For the first time since joining the Survey Corps, Erwin wished he were back inside the safety of the walls. He wanted to be back in his bed, in Trost or even in Ehrmich, as far from the sounds of dying soldiers as possible. Safe and warm and not in pain, under his covers, with Thomasin holding his hand and telling him that he'd done well and she was proud of him. She wouldn't even be allowed on base… As his tears finally slowed, sleep creeping up on him once more, he wondered if she would let him list her as his emergency contact. He didn't have anyone else, and when he died, it would be nice if someone outside the Corps knew where his ashes were scattered. Maybe, just maybe, if he didn't die and was simply injured again, she could come and visit him.

000000000

The journey back to the walls claimed another three lives. He didn't even know what the total casualties were. Feeling the ground shake as massive feet charged at them, and hearing shouted orders turn into terrified screams while not being able to see anything that was happening was the most bone-chilling thing he'd ever experienced. Even when the gates opened and the darkness of the wall's interior gave way to the sky above Shiganshina, his hands still trembled. If nothing else, however, it was a blessing that he didn't have to see the annoyed eyes and derisive sneers of the people lining the main road. He heard them, of course, complaining about their taxes being used to feed Titans and openly wondering what the body count was this time, but at least he didn't have to see them, and they couldn't see him either, his shame and anger.

He remained useless once they reached the Trost base, not even allowed to walk to the sick bay despite his insistence that he was capable of doing so. He felt like a fraud, laying behind a curtain as Captain Ramirez wrapped a new bandage around his freshly sewn hand.

"You did nick a tendon, but it only leads to your pinky, thank god. Trigger fingers never seem to work right once they've been cut, even after they've healed. It'll be fine as long as you're careful…"

Five stitches in his neck, nineteen in his palm.

"I don't know how the hell you managed to slice your throat like this. You're supposed to be one of the cautious ones, Smith; a few centimeters deeper, and you'd have nicked an artery. You would have bled out before Zacharias even reached you…"

Gerwalt was one of the two casualties from Mike's squad. All they recovered was a leg- if Nanaba hadn't seen him get grabbed, they wouldn't have been able to identify him.

"You're lucky you didn't break your neck, the way you landed. You slipped a disc, though- that's what's causing the pain in your leg. You won't be going on any expeditions for the next few months at least, but you'll live…"

Frey had finally stopped breathing about halfway to Trost. He probably didn't feel anything, Cecile told him quietly. They think the Titan that grabbed him broke his spine.

"I'm going to keep you here for a few days, just to make sure that bump on your head isn't more serious than it looks. If you start getting really dizzy, or get a migraine or nausea, tell me immediately…"

Thirty eight dead, eleven injured, including him. This was a good mission.

The days dragged on tortuously slow for the first two weeks. The Corps' medics allowed him to return to his own quarters three days after they returned to headquarters, but refused to discharge him until Hange came to help him up the stairs. It was completely unnecessary, he maintained until he got all of halfway up the first flight and nearly collapsed, his head spinning and the entire left side of his body crackling with white-hot lightning.

"You should have just stayed in the sick bay a little longer, Erwin," they said, trying to carry as much of his weight as they could without toppling backwards.

"The sick bay is for sick soldiers. I'm not sick, I just can't… walk good right now…"

"Yeah, and the logical conclusion to 'I can't walk good' is obviously 'so lemme walk up two flights of stairs'…" Shifting his arm so it dug less into their neck, Hange turned slightly to better look at him. "What are you gonna do for meals?"

"Starve to death, I suppose. But at least I'll do so in the comfort of my own bed." As they finally reached the third floor, Erwin leaned heavily against the wall, praying the pressure in his temples would ease up at least a little. Hange stared at the scuffed floorboards, their brows drawn together as their lips pursed. "Forgive me- that was a joke in poor taste." Brown eyes blinked behind their dusty lenses as the younger soldier looked up.

"Huh? What?"

"I didn't mean to say something so thoughtless and upset you."

"Oh, no. Sorry; I wasn't really paying attention to you. Come on, let's get you in bed." Pulling his arm back over their shoulder, Hange let him set the pace as they made their way to his quarters. Erwin frowned slightly as he looked them over. Their expression had reverted back to that clearly upset look despite their words.

"Are you sure I didn't upset you, Hange?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just thinking." They stopped suddenly, looking up at him. "Do all Titans get lighter when they die?"

"What?" The brunette's lips thinned as they frowned, sinking deep in thought.

"When we were cleaning up, there was a three-meter that hadn't decayed laying there. It was just smiling, like it was mocking us, even in death…" Their grip around his wrist tightened, not enough to be painful, but enough for their knuckles to stand out paler against their skin. "I was so pissed off I just punted the damn thing. I thought I was gonna break my foot- after the fact- but… I didn't. Its head went flying, like I was kicking a ball." Suddenly, the anger vanished from their face, a dawning wonderment washing their features blank. "How can something so big be so light…?"

How can we be sure that there aren't other humans living somewhere far away from the walls…?

Erwin unlocked his door, limping the remaining meter to his couch and sinking down into the thin cushions.

"I don't know, Hange. It doesn't make any kind of logical sense, but very little about the Titans does. I've always wondered about them myself. Where do they come from, why do they look like humans… why do they eat us…?" Hange quickly walked over and sat next to him, their eyes wide and earnest.

"Yeah, why do they look like humans? That doesn't make any sense- why would they be bipedal? Why do they have hair? They're… animals; what biological purpose could that serve?"They groaned, running a hand through their own hair before stopping halfway and pulling their fingers away, shuddering. Leaning against the back of the couch, they stared despondently at the ceiling. "We've been fighting Titans for over a century. You'd think we'd have answers to basic questions like this by now."

"It makes sense that we don't," Erwin said. "When any other living creature dies, they leave behind a corpse that can be examined. We only have minutes at most to dissect a dead Titan."

"Then why don't we dissect them when they're alive?" He assumed that was a joke, the hint of a grin that had just started on his lips dying the moment he saw their face, the darkness in their eyes.

"What are you saying?"

"We just need to capture one alive, and then we can cut it up to our heart's content and see what makes it tick."

" 'We just need to capture one alive'? They're Titans, Hange- not butterflies. Killing them costs us dozens of lives- imagine the body count that would come with trying to cage one-"

"I know it would be hard! I know people would die, but people are dying right now and we don't even know why! ...I want to know why… Why do these things exist? Just to punish us for being alive…? For daring to live in this world…?" They crossed their arms over their chest, sinking into the couch cushions like a sulking child. Erwin sighed. He understood their frustration well- it had been his own not so long ago. Reaching out, he clapped his uninjured hand on their shoulder.

"Your desire to better understand our world is commendable; I mean that, truly. But that might be a step too far at the moment." They opened their mouth to argue and he immediately shut them down with a hard look. "I said 'at the moment'- listen before you get upset, Hange. Change does not come easily in this world, not even in the Scouting Regiment. It's taken almost six years just for a new formation to be given nominal approval- a formation designed to decrease casualties, mind you. I'm not saying we'll never attempt live captures of Titans someday, I'm only saying it's best to keep your expectations low." Hange pouted at him, waiting to see if he was finished speaking for opening their mouth.

"No offense, Section Commander, but that's the most depressing way of thinking I've ever heard. If that's the mindset you live by, it's no wonder you're always so grumpy." Erwin laughed through his nose, his grin coming back.

"I don't deny that. However, I believe that getting your hopes up only to have them crushed is even more depressing. It's hard to be disappointed when you expect nothing."

"That's bullshit. Humanity's hopes should ALWAYS be high! We should expect everything, and when we don't get it, we should try even harder!" It was hard to believe that this was the same soldier who, only a few days ago, had wept into his chest, wishing they had died instead of their comrades. He didn't know what was responsible for this change in mood, but he wasn't going to question it.

"I envy you, Hange," he muttered, a wistful tinge to his smile. "I wish I were still optimistic as you…" Shifting in their seat, the younger Scout turned to face him, gripping both his shoulders as they stared deep into his eyes with an earnestness that made him just a little uncomfortable.

"You can be. You've just gotta, you know… get your shit sorted- with all due respect, sir. Don't freak out when things aren't perfect, don't take it so personally when things fail."

"…you're right…"

"I know I am," they preened. "And until you do, Erwin, I'll be optimistic for both of us, okay?"

"Heh… That's a nice sentiment, but I think you should-" The hands on his shoulders moved to his cheeks, holding his face tightly and forcing him to nod slightly.

" 'Yes, Hange- that's a brilliant idea. You're so smart and charming and attractive and good at pep talks'." They released his face. "That's what you were trying to say, right?"

"…yes, Hange. That's exactly what I was saying."

000000000

It took a month before he could walk to the mess hall without doubling over in pain. Before then, his squad mates took turns bringing him meals, usually opting to eat their own with him, probably more out of pity than a sense of duty. After all, injured as he was, he couldn't join the rest of the Scouts for training, or even most chores. His world had grown incredibly small in that time, his days miserably lonely. Mike sometimes came by, usually at night, usually carrying a bottle of expensive wine or whiskey that someone had been foolish enough to try and hide on one of the top shelves in the kitchen.

Erwin wasn't supposed to drink until he was fully recovered- if he did something stupid, like get fall-down drunk and hit his head, chances were even a light knock would result in another concussion. He was happy to risk a head injury if it meant having a little company, though. Mike was the depressingly introspective kind of drunk, rather than the fun kind, and most of their time spent together usually ended in the older man sobbing and lamenting all his fallen friends. Erwin was fine with that too, even if all he could do was rub his former captain's back and try to convince him that their deaths had meaning.

Mike usually fell asleep in his office, sprawled out on the couch, or more likely, the floor, although once, he stumbled into Erwin's bedroom, thinking it was his own, and collapsed face first on the bed, blacked out. The younger man had been tempted to take the couch for himself, but that had been back when he woke thinking his spine had broken in the night on the best of days. So he'd just pushed Mike as far to the other side of the mattress as possible and climbed under the covers, sorely reminded of his days in the Training Corps and how, every morning, he'd wake with Nile half sprawled out on his bunk, drooling all over his pillow. If he'd been less drunk, less miserable and less soul sick, he might have looked back on those memories fondly, but the alcohol coursing through his veins left his eyes stinging and his throat painfully tight.

Thankfully, he was visited too by slightly less dismal company. Levi, of all people, showed up once in a blue moon, usually to toss a tray of food onto his desk, paying no mind to whatever papers were already laying there, with a cold order to "Eat". The first time it happened, Erwin had spent no less than five minutes staring down the smaller man, every muscle in his body poised to jump in case the soup before him was somehow going to try and stab him…

"What," Levi asked finally, "you think it's poisoned?"

"I don't know- is it?" The shorter man scoffed, throwing himself down onto the couch in what Erwin could only described as the most poised sulk he'd ever seen. It was nothing short of awe-inspiring, the way this man could carry himself with the grace of a born and bred noble, and the huffiness of a toddler all at once.

"I think we've moved past the 'me trying to kill you' thing. If I wanted you dead, you'd have been dead a thousand times over by now."

"So what's this, then?" He gestured to the tray blocking his mission report. "Are you just being nice?"

"More like pitying you. Nobody wants to bring you food anymore- you're too depressing. And as funny as it would be, you starving to death in here wouldn't do me any favors…"

Levi had a point, so he acquiesced and accepted whatever meals he brought, but it took a very long time before that voice in the back of his head screaming at him that it was a trap finally fell silent. The dark-haired man didn't say much, but once Erwin grew accustomed to his presence, the silence gradually turned from tense to almost comfortable. It was familiar, if nothing else, the same kind of silence Thomasin used to bring to their "conversations" when they were cadets. It still wasn't the same, though.

As much as he appreciated the company- all of it- every day he wasn't able to clear his mind with physical tasks, that cold, loneliness in his chest grew more and more pervasive. Which was why, on his day off a month later, he'd physically brushed off Captain Glover's attempts to bring him back inside, and dragged himself to Shiganshina. Literally, in the case of the last flight of stairs leading up to Thomasin's apartment. He pulled himself to his feet using her doorknob, beating weakly against the ancient wood.

"Thomasin, are you home?" He pressed his ear against the door. There was shuffling, a chair scraping on the floor. He could hear her approaching, her lopsided gait more familiar than his own, but as he waited for the locks to click and scrape, there was nothing. "Thomasin?" Still no locks, but he knew she was there; he could hear her breathing, inhaling and exhaling hard enough that it reached him through the door. Worry bubbled inside him. Was she in pain? That was how he usually sounded after a flight of stairs, when the pain in his leg went from little twinges to long needles being jabbed into his muscles. What had she told him, she got "tingles"? Was this what she meant?

"Are you alright? Do you need help?" The heavy breathing stopped, and he finally heard the locks coming undone. He stepped back just as the door opened less than halfway. The moment his eyes alighted on her face, Erwin's heart beat faster, filling his chest with a blessed warmth he hadn't realized he'd been craving until that moment. "This isn't a bad time, is it?" He prayed it wasn't. Thomasin shook her head slowly. She wasn't displeased to see him, but she didn't smile the way he'd hoped she would. She just stared in his general direction with the most blank expression.

"No. It's fine. You're hurt."

"What gave it away?" He teased, well aware that he was practically hobbled over on her doorstep, and that the entire right side of his neck was still ugly and red from where his stitches had been taken out the day before.

"I can see it in your face. You shouldn't have come all the way out here."

"I know," he muttered, dropping his gaze, "but recovery has been miserable, and I-" 'I missed you. I love you. I wish you were there with me...' We should expect everything…! He swallowed, trying to ignore his too-quick beating heart. "I didn't want you to worry that I was dead. I wrote, to tell you what happened, but you probably won't get that letter for another week."

"I knew you weren't dead. I saw Levi." For a moment he frowned, before remembering that he returned in the wagon. She could have been standing right beside the outer gate- probably had been- and he wouldn't have been able to see her.

"Oh. Well… that's good. Disregard that letter when you get it, then- I was pretty out of it when I wrote it." They stood in silence for a while, the sounds from the streets reaching all the way to the landing.

Erwin frowned, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He hadn't necessarily expected Thomasin to throw herself into his arms and start weeping with relief that he was alright (though he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't have enjoyed the massive stroke of his ego), but he'd certainly hoped for a warmer welcome than this. A few years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about the line her lips were set in, or her apathetic gaze looking anywhere but him, but he'd grown so accustomed to her smile that it was now disconcerting in its absence.

"Should I… leave?" She blinked slowly.

"No. Sorry, I was just… thinking."

"About what?" She shook her head.

"Nothing…" Pushing the door open further, Thomasin stepped back, finally meeting his gaze with a little smile he hoped wasn't as forced as it looked. "You can come in."

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude-"

"I'm sure." His gut told him that he was definitely intruding, but it had been so long since he'd seen her, and so much had happened in that time, leaving him so drained mentally, physically and emotionally that he couldn't argue against the voice that told him he needed this, he deserved it. He didn't want anything from her; just to sit next to her and look at her and bask in the contentment her presence brought him.

As she stood aside to let him pass and he walked into the room proper, he was immediately struck by how much more… cluttered it seemed. Clothes laid in piles on the floor, books tossed haphazardly onto them, dirty dishes overflowing in the sink… He was definitely intruding. While Thomasin locked the door, he surreptitiously picked up the things that were in his path, setting them at the foot of her unmade bed. He paused, his attention drawn to the exposed sheet, or rather, the little red dots half covered by the comforter. They were dry, but fresh enough to have not turned the color of rust yet. She probably didn't want him looking at that, so he pulled the blanket over the stain before taking his usual seat.

"What happened to you?" She asked, making her way back far slower than she usually would.

"My horse threw me. It was storming," he said, hoping that would be a sufficient explanation.

"…are you sure that's what happened?" He looked her dead in the eye.

"Yes." There was no reason to concern her unnecessarily. As she reached him, she didn't sit down, instead leaning over the table to grab his left wrist. The way she was leaning offered him a perfect view down her blouse, but despite taking one guilty peek, his attention was focused on her face. She looked pale. Not pale like him, but pallid enough that he could tell something was wrong. I can see it in your face… Her eyes were dull as she examined his hand. She looked awful, but still so pretty…

"You're supposed to keep this clean and dry, Smith." He tore his eyes away from her, glancing at his injured hand. The bandages were coming loose, smeared with ink and mostly damp from the shower he took that morning.

"It's fine. It'll be healed in a few more weeks."

"A few more weeks and you can get an infection. If that happens, you know what'll happen next, if you're lucky." She dropped his hand, making a chopping motion with her own. He flinched at the meaty slap as the side of one hand made contact with her palm.

"That's lucky?"

"Yeah. 'cause you'd just lose the hand. If an infection spreads up your arm, it could reach your chest. And they can't very well amputate that, now can they?" Heaving a sigh, she straightened, and Erwin watched as she opened a chest behind her bed, pulling out a dark glass jar and a wooden box and setting them on the table before returning to the sink to wash her hands.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he slid the lid off the box. It was small, plain, but well made, which left him all the more puzzled why it would only contain things like bandages and a bottle of what must have been antiseptic. He expected the jar to contain a salve of some sort, his eyes lighting up as he removed the top and was met by a dark gold that filled the air with sweetness.

"You have honey…" he whispered reverently, crying out as something small but hard struck him on the shoulder. She'd thrown a spoon at him, walking back with still-damp hands and an unamused frown.

"That's not food, you giant ox." He gaped at her.

"It literally is, though!"

"It's medicine."

"Please. I haven't tasted honey in years…"

"You can go a few more." Pulling the jar away from him, she sat, pulling his injured hand closer to her. Erwin watched her unwrap the old bandages in silence, guilt filling him as her face crumpled seeing the line of dried blood and coarse black thread holding his palm together.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he said softly, trying to reassure her. She said nothing, only closed her eyes for a moment. He couldn't think of anything to say because he had no idea what was going through her mind in that moment. All he knew was that, when she opened her eyes with a small sigh, her eyelashes looked wet, her eyes glistening.

"Why don't the medics take better care of you?" she asked in a whisper, sloughing the crusted blood from his palm with a soaked cloth that smelled overpoweringly astringent. He could barely think as he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, the sting of cold that quickly set his nerves aflame almost as sharp as the blade that cut him in the first place.

"They're busy."

"Doing what? It's not like there are that many Scouts left." He flinched, more from her words than the pain, but she didn't notice, her attention fully consumed by gently straightening his fingers that had been locked in a partial curl for weeks. He was supposed to do that himself, but… it was easier to just ignore it and tell himself he'd do it the next day.

With all the blood gone, he could see that between the stitches, the gash had scabbed over, but the surrounding skin was an angry red. Thomasin swallowed, looking slightly nauseous for all of a second before her expression faded back into nothing. Pulling what he could only describe as a small, flat wooden spoon from the box, she scooped out a dollop of honey on the end and slathered it over his wound, paying his horrified look no mind.

"What are you doing?!"

"It'll help against infection-"

"It's a waste of perfectly good honey!"

"Well, maybe if you took better care of yourself, I wouldn't have to waste my supplies on you…" she muttered under her breath, holding the clean end of the spoon between her teeth as she replaced the jar's lid, laying a strip of linen over the cut and wrapping his hand once more in clean bandages. Her motions looked practiced to the point of nonchalance.

"…thank you for taking care of me," Erwin whispered. "I know I don't deserve it." She mumbled something, her words obscured by her clenched teeth, but he was certain he still heard her correctly.

"Don't say that…" 'Which part…?' He wondered, his thoughts immediately distracted as she set his hand down and grabbed the spoon, running her finger over the clean side and gathering the honey that still clung to it.

Pale blue eyes focused on the liquid gold slowly running over the line of her knuckle as she brought it to her mouth, and Erwin acted entirely on instinct, his right hand enclosing her wrist like a manacle. Thomasin made a noise caught somewhere between a whimper and a gurgle as his mouth closed over her finger. The burst of almost too-sweet in his mouth made him shudder, clearing his mind and leaving him painfully aware of exactly what he was doing. He froze, torn between wanting to meet her gaze to gauge her reaction, and terrified that if he dared to, she'd come to her senses and slap the taste out of his mouth. 'Well, shit- I'm in too deep to back out now…'

He flattened his tongue against the pad of her finger, gently sucking until every trace of sweetness was gone and all he was left with was the faintest taste of salt. Taking the digit slightly further into his mouth, his lips almost brushing her second knuckle, was enough to snap Thomasin out of whatever daze she had been in. She pulled her hand away, breaking the suction with a faint 'pop' and tugging her sleeve down. They stared at one another for far, far too long. Channeling his inner Hange, Erwin blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I was a good patient; I deserved a treat." The woman across from him blinked hard, her mouth moving wordlessly for a moment.

"You are a terrible patient, and I am not a sugar cube, you ox." Most of the tension, at least the new tension, thankfully relaxed as Thomasin set about repacking her supplies. "I think 'falling' from your horse scrambled your brain…" she muttered, getting to her feet and heading back to the sink. He used the opportunity to shift in his seat, trying to adjust his half-erect member so it wouldn't be instantly noticeable the moment he stood. Washing her hands again, she sighed suddenly, leaning her arms against the counter and looking so exhausted. The lewd thoughts that had begun creeping around the edges of his mind vanished at once.

"Thomasin? What's wrong?" She turned to face him, or at least, face his direction. She wasn't really looking at him.

"…your dad thought the king had amnesia water, right?" He frowned, thrown completely for a loop.

"He didn't describe it like that…"

"But that's the gist of what he believed, right? What you believe? That the king can make people forget things?"

"Basically." She limped back over to the table, but didn't sit, standing beside her chair and looking down at him the way she had stared once when they were cadets.

"And all of that's to keep us from remembering that there are other humans outside the walls."

"Yes… Wh-why are you bringing this up now? I didn't think you put much stock in my theories…"

"If the royal family doesn't want people to remember the outside world, what do you think is gonna happen to you if you stumble across the outside world?" Erwin opened his mouth, but no words left his lips. He could do nothing but stare up into the brown eyes above him filled with all manner of dark emotions and bright with tears that she refused to let creep into her voice.

"Do you think they're just going to let you come back and tell everyone that there are other humans out there? Do you think the people who killed your father just for thinking about the truth aren't going to do the same thing to you if you find proof of it?" He swallowed hard. In truth, he'd never even thought about it that way before. How could she have come to this conclusion before him?

"There won't be proof for a long time. We're far from discovering other signs of humanity. ...that's an odd thing for you to be worried about, Thomasin. What brought this on?" She sat finally, dropping her head to stare at the table.

"Just thinking…"

"About what?"

"…about how far away from the walls you were. Those ruins you're using as a base are sixteen kilometers away, yeah?"

"Yes."

"And how much further did you go before the storm hit?"

"About… four…" He frowned. Where was this sudden interest in the expedition coming from? He couldn't dwell on it long.

"If you go out again, you'll go even further…" He couldn't see her face, what with her head bowed so low, but he could see the drops of water splashing on the table in front of her. "You're going to go away…"

"Oh, Thomasin… No, I'm not." He reached out to cover her hand with his own, but the moment his fingers brushed hers, she pulled away.

"Yes, you are." She sniffled loudly, her voice little more than a quavering whisper. "If the Titans don't kill you, the government will, and for what? To find proof of a world that no one will remember anyway? …sometimes I think the real reason you want there to be other humans living somewhere far away from the walls is so you can leave them and never come back."

The horrible thing was, she was right in a way. If his father was right- and Erwin knew he was, nothing else made sense- any proof that the Crown was deceiving the populace would have to be eradicated… including those who brought that proof to light. If there was a world out there that hadn't been completely obliterated by the Titans, then returning to this one would most likely be a mistake. Even so…

"I'd come back for you. If there's something better out there, we can go together."

"No…"

"Yes. I'll carry you. It wouldn't be the first time." Reaching across the table, he brushed a hand over her hair, letting his fingers rest on the back of her neck. "Listen Thomasin; I promise that no matter where I go, I won't ever leave you behind. I didn't when you were a Scout, and I won't now."

He was too used to dealing with other members of the Survey Corps, soldiers who either quickly got their emotions under control until they were in private, or else, had their tears and screams cut short by the massive hands and teeth that tore them apart. It was foolishness, expecting the same from someone who wasn't in danger, someone he couldn't pull rank with. Thomasin put her arms on the table, burying her face in them. There were no screams like six years ago, no sobs, no nothing. It would have been easy to imagine she had fallen asleep if not for her muffled voice, thick with tears.

"Sorry, Erwin… I'm not very good company today, am I…?"

~o0o~

The sun was still high as he made his way through the streets of Trost. Nothing he had said had any effect on Thomasin- he couldn't even get her to look up at him once she'd put her head down. In the end, he decided the best thing he could do was to just stop talking and leave her in peace. It was early enough in the day that headquarters would be mostly empty if he returned now, and he was still in no shape to resume training.

There would be nothing for him to do but dwell on his loneliness. Which was, perhaps in part, why he turned several blocks from the Survey Corps base, into a painted brick building he'd thought he'd seen the last of. The smoke wasn't as overwhelming when eh was expecting it, though it took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the gloom coming from the light of midday. The eyes of several girls fell on him, but he paid them no mind, scanning their ranks as he pulled out his wallet.

"Hey. It's two Sinas for-" He dropped six onto the desk, walking forward and stopping before a familiar set of dark eyes and dark hair that was still too straight.

"You." Too thin lips stretched into a smile as he woman rose with felid grace.

"It's good to see you again too, soldier. Did you miss me~?" He said nothing, but if she was put off by his cold expression, she didn't let him know. "Aw, not so talkative today. Maybe I can put you in a better mood."

He followed her without a word, to a different room this time. It was bigger, with a much larger bed, and an actual window whose glass was darkened from smoke. Whether it had been made that way, or if the smoke came from the censer burning just enough for him to know it was filled with dregs of opioine, didn't matter. Locking the door, the woman sidled up to him, running a finger along the curve of his pectoral.

"A little birdie told me that the Survey Corps' last mission was a big success, and that a certain soldier with handsome eyebrows was to thank for that. I guess you want to celebrate, huh?" Her expression fell slightly. "Or do you just want the same as last time?" Firmly, but gently, he removed her hand.

"I want you to take off your clothes, lay on the bed, and stop talking." Big brown eyes blinked in surprise, and for a second, he saw Thomasin shocked out of her despondence by his audacity. Of course, that second passed quickly, the moment killed by the insipid little giggle the woman before him let out.

Backing away, she tugged at the laces of her bodice, the whole thing coming apart and pooling to the floor at her feet. Her breasts were decently sized, but she was pale. And short. Coupled with her pin straight hair, she almost reminded him of Levi. Turning away before his disgust could show up on his face, Erwin pulled off his shirt. He'd quickly trained himself to dress and undress with one hand, knowing he'd die of shame if he had to ask another soldier to help him put his pants on. The somewhat jerky motions required to do so were hell on his back, however, and by the time he'd stripped down, the now familiar white-hot stabbing in his leg had started again. He sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing as he waiting for the pain to pass. He moved to rub his thigh without thinking, hissing as the friction scraped against his stitches. A hand brushed against his spine, and he nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Are you okay, hon?"

"I'm fine." Pushing down his discomfort, and pushing the hand away as well, he climbed onto the bed. She spread her legs wider in invitation, and he paused. It was almost funny to think that, all those years ago, he'd imagined his first time would be with Marie on their wedding night. It was easy to think there was something special about human bodies when he didn't see them burst apart like sacks of blood and spend years picking through ground up chunks of the people he ate breakfast with.

There was nothing special about the body laying before him, but it was warm at least. He felt nothing laying a hand over the heavy breast before him, and tried to push the images of broken bodies from his mind. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine those breasts were darker, warmer from being pressed against his back. Yes, that worked better to drive back those dark thoughts. He almost felt a stirring of pleasure until a voice moaned, a voice that decidedly did not come from the mouth he was trying to imagine. Icy blue eyes snapped open.

"What are you doing?" The woman beneath him blinked, utterly bemused.

"Uh… I was just trying to help you, hon. You seem to be a bit nervous; I thought it might be your first time-"

"You can help by being quiet. Don't speak, don't moan- keep your mouth closed." Thrown for a loop, but knowing it was her job to give the customer what he wanted, she simply nodded.

He didn't want any fake moans or miserable attempts to stroke his ego. Regardless of what Lady Caitlin thought, he knew he wasn't any amazing lover. All he knew about sex came from books, a few stolen touches between himself and Marie, and his fellow cadets and later Scouts. That was all he needed to know for what he wanted. For once, he wasn't dedicating himself to anything or anyone else. There was no one he needed to convince that he was better than he was, no facade that needed to be put in place.

He kept his eyes shut as he thrust, making it easier to imagine those hitched gasps were coming from someone who actually mattered, someone he would have enjoyed this with. If the hair his face was buried in was fluffy and smelled like chamomile, and the hands gripping his shoulders had callouses… but maybe not even then. Those uneven breaths sounded too much like sobs, and the face in his mind's eye changed, no longer contorted with pleasure, but with a soul-deep misery his words could do nothing to ease. Erwin screwed his eyes shut tighter, tears squeezing through his lashes despite his best efforts.

"I'm sorry, Thomasin… don't cry… Please, don't cry…"

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A/N- This chapter got away from me, but I didn't want to split it in half. God, can I ever not intertwine sex and angst in this story? Maybe one day I'll let Erwin have some happy, uncomplicated nookie. Also, I like the idea of him not being the amazing sex god everyone in the fandom is convinced he is. I can't imagine someone like him wasting time fucking so much that he gets any sort of "good" at it; canon!Erwin radiates "Asexual plotting world domination because he isn't distracted by matters of the flesh" energy to me (of course, my ace bias tends to make me read anyone not explicitly in a relationship as ace).

So, this is probably a foible caused by me living with chronic pain for about three decades, but showing characters suffer realistic side effects from injuries is so much my Author Appeal. I could never write a shonen series because most of it would just be dedicated to the character's physical therapy after every battle.