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)

40. Faded

000000000

Ch.40- "Faded"

000000000

A/N- Smut incoming

000000000

If it wasn't for the sun rising and setting outside his window, it would have felt as though time had come to a standstill. It was five years ago all over again. No, it was worse this time, so much worse. Most of his Scouts were dead, news of what happened in Stohess must have spread by now, and Erwin couldn't even deal with these problems himself. While he had been indisposed, Levi had taken his duty as second-in-command to heart, setting up an interim chain of command to ensure things could continue running at least somewhat smoothly for the time being.

He'd also put together a new Special Operations Squad whose sole task currently was protecting Eren and Historia. Given that all but one of them graduated in the top ten of their class, they were probably capable enough of such a task, but it still left him feeling uneasy. This was what his Survey Corps had been reduced to- a group of fresh recruits, not even in the Corps for a year, guarding their most valuable assets… and the worse thing was, he couldn't even see for himself. Hange sent their squad mates as go-betweens to bring him updates on their experiments, but reading words on a page didn't mean anything to him.

He needed to see, to see with his own eyes if it had truly been something Eren did that controlled those Titans. If he didn't see it himself, how could he ever know for sure…? But how could he even think about going outside, to some rural safe house deep in Wall Rose, when he could barely stand on his own? Not for lack of trying- a week and a half into his convalescence and he was sick to death of laying in bed. Thomasin was in the bathroom, showering, the running water muffled by the door and walls. She would never let him even attempt to get up, adamant that the only thing that was important was his health. Lies. Stupidity. She didn't understand what needed to be done. If she had her way, he would stay in bed for the rest of his miserable life. He had too many things to do to simply lie about, being worthless.

That was the mantra Erwin repeated to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to ignore how much that tiny action drained him. He could rest when he was dead, dead like Cecile and Horace and- Alas, the mind was strong, strong enough to will him onto his own two feet for the first time in almost ten days… but the body was quickly overtaken with such horrible fatigue and vertigo that he collapsed heavily back onto the bed within seconds, trembling and trying to ignore the dizziness washing over him as his heart beat almost frighteningly fast.

"Erwin?" Thomasin's voice was dampened somewhat by the hiss of water, but he still heard her, that sharp concern.

"I'm fine," he called back, his voice weaker than he would have liked, struggling to pull his legs back onto the bed. How could they be so heavy? The water stopped and something scraped against the tiles in the bathroom- most likely the chair she'd brought in with her- and before he could even lift his left leg, the door opened, Thomasin's head popping out in a cloud of steam, as though she were emerging from the neck of a Titan. Water dripped from her saturated curls.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Why did you get out of bed?" 'Think of a lie…'

"I needed to pee." …that was the wrong lie. The bathroom door opened all the way and Thomasin hopped out on crutches. She'd hastily thrown on a blouse stained with unsightly reddish brown splotches running down the right shoulder and breast that refused to wash out, a towel wrapped around her hips, barely clinging on. Bending at the waist, she grabbed the chamber pot beside the bed.

"Alright."

"…I don't have to now. You know how it is sometimes; you get those phantom urges-"

"You said you had to pee. That's why you were trying to get out of bed. Considering how dangerous that is in your current condition, you must have had to go pretty bad. So you should go now." Her eyes narrowed. "Unless you're lying to me? Unless you were trying to do something stupid, like walk without supervision?"

"I wasn't."

"Then you have to pee. Don't worry how long it takes; I can wait." Erwin sagged into the pillows. He was too tired to keep up this charade, pathetic though it was.

"I wasn't trying to walk. I just… I just wanted to stand. It's been so long since I've stood up that my legs don't even feel real anymore." Thomasin sighed, her gaze softening as she set the pot back down and lifted his leg onto the bed for him, perching on the edge beside him. Her blouse clung to her still wet skin, the neck and shoulders completely saturated by the water still cascading from her hair, but she paid those things no mind, focused only on taking his hand.

"You're not wrong. You are going to have to start moving around again soon, otherwise it's going to be even harder… but you want too much too fast, Erwin. You can't just jump out of bed and go back to normal."

"Trust me; I know," he told her, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. She pretended not to notice, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.

"You have to take things slow for now. Baby steps." Of course he'd have to take baby steps- he was already wearing a diaper.

"If I take things any slower, I might as well be dead."

"Don't say that!"

"It was a joke. Clearly I have no intention of dying; what kind of man survives dangling from a Titan's mouth only to be done in by bed rest?"

"I can think of worse ways to die," she told him quietly. He couldn't. He shook his head, reaching up to try and rub away the tension in his brow, but his hand didn't touch anything. All he felt was an ache in his stump. The tension remained.

"It's this room; it's driving me mad." He looked up at his wife, entreating. "Do you think there's any way I can at least get to my office? I'll just sit, I swear it." She pressed her lips together.

"I don't know if you can manage that yet. I know it doesn't seem like it's that much of a distance, but trust me- it is." She chewed on the inside of her lip. "You know what, Smith? I know what the problem is. You're bored."

"What?"

"It just like when you stayed at my place- you're so used to being overburdened that a few hours of peace and quiet drive you crazy." She sighed, taking her hands away from his and rubbing them together, tugging on her sleeves. "There's a stack of mission reports and stuff on your desk. I'll bring them to you, but you can only read them! No writing, no running around trying to get information- you can sit and read. That's it."

"I would welcome that. Thank you." She was too far away for him to reach her face, so he leaned closer and pressed his lips against her shoulder.

"…think you can wait until I dry off?"

"No promises."

~o0o~

The world was changing very quickly, so quickly that it was difficult not to feel left behind. Given that the Walls were apparently crafted of hardened Titan skin, and at least two Titans they knew of were able to harden their skin at will, Hange theorized that Eren's Titan might have the same ability. They were currently running tests to see if he could activate such a skill, but so far, there had been little progress. His skin seemed to be able to thicken in places, but nowhere near to the degree of the Armored or even Female Titan and it, along with the rest of his Titan form, decayed as soon as he dislodged from it.

In conjunction with that hypothesis, Armin Arlert had put forth the idea that, if Eren could make use of such an ability, it could be prudent to take a small party of elite Scouts to Shiganshina under the cover of night, rather than waste four more years laying down a supply trail.

An admirable idea in theory, but aside from the fact that such a trek would still take several days at minimum, given how little light their torches threw and how slow they'd have to travel, there were also reports by the 104th recruits that had taken refuge at Utgard castle with Mike's squad about a frightening new breed of Titans that could move at night just as easily as they could in the day, to say nothing of the so-called "Beast Titan" the recruits swore killed officers Henning and Lynne with rocks thrown from over a kilometer away.

And even if they didn't have these new Titans to worry about, the Armored, Colossal, and… whatever that other small one could be called, were running free. It was entirely possible that they'd just returned to wherever they came from, but… given how desperately they'd tried to capture Eren, it seemed unlikely that they'd give up on him now, not to mention whatever they were planning for their co-conspirator Annie. The world was changing without him… and he couldn't even attempt to keep up. He could barely stand up.

Thomasin agreed to let him out of bed, but only while she was there to monitor him. She insisted he use one of her crutches to help support himself, and while that did allow him to remain upright for nearly a minute, it did nothing to keep the very act of standing from completely draining him. It was difficult to believe that the legs once capable of running for kilometers without stop could grow so weak so fast. She had smiled, sympathetic but knowingly, as Erwin loudly and profanely cursed his own weakness, pulling her chair closer to his bedside and lifting her skirt. He watched as she undid the belts holding her peg in place and twisted, putting both legs on display. He'd never really noticed before how much smaller the remnant of her left thigh was.

"See? It's not just you. Gaining muscle takes months. Losing it takes weeks. Your legs are gonna go back to normal eventually. You just gotta give it time." He understood what she was saying, and he felt the truth in her words, but in that moment, his legs were the furthest thing from his mind.

"Is that going to happen to me?" he asked quietly. "My arm, is it going to just… wither…?" Her smile dimmed slightly as she began re-buckling her prosthesis.

"Honestly? Yeah. That's what happens. It's not gonna wither and die, Smith; that's why you do stretches and flexes, but… yeah. There's probably not going to be a cannonball in that arm for much longer."

Erwin glanced down at his stump. It was no longer as bulky now that the stitches had stopped oozing and were beginning to heal, the bandages wrapped much tighter now, almost to the point of discomfort sometimes. Thomasin insisted it was necessary, to keep fluid from building up (unless he wanted her to drain it for him the way the drunks and druggies in Quinta showed her?). How laughably pathetic. The arm that had fired so many smoke shells, signed so many death certificates, killed so many Titans… was reduced to this. A disgusted laugh crawled up his throat.

"Why this one…? Why not my left arm- I don't care about that one. The Titans are welcome to it. Why this? Is this my collateral? I send my good arm down to hell to assure all the people I've gotten killed that I'll be coming down after it?"

"Erwin, you didn't get anyone killed-"

"Yes, I did," he snapped, unable- unwilling to hear her make any more excuses for him. "Yes, I fucking did- haven't you heard about what happened in Stohess? All those civilian casualties happened on my orders. Maybe the Scouts agree to throw down their lives, but I don't think the children who were crushed to death by brawling Titans had much of a choice in the matter."

He was the one who assigned Cecile to lead the primary capture squad… He was the one who sent Mike off to a desolate section of Wall Rose with unarmed children he had to protect… Horace died buying time for him to escape, for him to live… How could anyone be so stupid as to think he wasn't responsible for their deaths? Kind hands brushed his hair away from his forehead.

"Oh, Erwin…" Before he could stop himself, he slapped her hand away.

"Stop it. Stop it- stop trying to make me feel better! Just let me seethe!" It was childish- embarrassingly so- but he couldn't lie and say he didn't mean it. He'd spent so many years wallowing in his disgust and rage and self-loathing after every failed mission that all of Thomasin's attempts to stop him doing so felt like she was covering his mouth when he needed to purge. He couldn't catch her expression before she lowered her head, nodded slightly.

"You're right. You have every right to be angry. I'm gonna give you some space- I'll be close enough that if you need me, you can just shout, alright?"

"Yes. Thank you." She reached out to touch his hand or arm, but caught herself, pulling her own hand back and squeezing it with the other.

Sagging into the pillows, he closed his eyes as the door quietly clicked closed, regretting the isolation as soon as he could no longer hear her footsteps. He shouldn't have snapped. He shouldn't have pushed her away. He should have been grateful, so grateful- this was what he'd always wanted, so why the hell was it scraping his nerves raw? This was how it had been for days- he couldn't stand to be around people any more than he could stand to be away from them. It was as though his weakened body was having an effect on his mind.

~o0o~

Erwin never thought the day would come when he would be so happy to listen to Hange talk at length about Titans, but he'd never been so positive that Titans were the lynch pin that held the secrets of their world together, either. They'd come bearing gifts, armfuls of journals detailing information they'd gleaned from their newest round of experiments as well as the older ones, and laid everything across his bed. Thomasin would be in a state if she saw this mess, but Hange had convinced her to step outside and take a break for the first time in two weeks.

"So you're saying that Eren's body began absorbing into the Titan's?"

"Seems that way. All the soft tissue on his face was gone. It really seems likely that if he were to remain inside it for too long, there might not be anything left of him." They sighed. "I really wish I knew what those fibers that connect them to the Titans are. Are they muscles? Nerves? Clearly he can see and hear through the Titan's eyes and ears- are they connected to his eyes and ears, or to his brain directly? See, this is why I need someone with an actual medical background on my team-"

"Hange, no. We've been over this. Thomasin is not a Scout."

"She doesn't have to be a Scout to help. She already helped me think of something." His eyes narrowed, but they motioned for him to calm down. "It was after your surgery- she was in my lab looking for something for her weird blood machine and she overheard me talking to Moblit about the Titans in the walls. She said that when the Garrison was installing the canons and tracks, that certain sections were harder than others and that led to injuries, which made me think about Annie. What if there are different levels of Titan hardening?"

"What do you mean?"

"The Walls are hardened Titans, we can safely assume that much. But, aside from small sections of it, the Walls are easily pierced. We scale them with our ODM hooks, we've installed ladders and tracks and canons on them. If something as weak as an ODM hook can pierce the Wall, clearly Titan hardening isn't indestructible. I think it's a matter of the method. We've been using swords to try and cut through hardening, but… that's the dumbest thing in the world. You don't cut a rock with a knife- you break it apart with a pickaxe! Thomasin said the Garrison uses pneumatic hammers fueled with iceburst stone to drive spikes into the Walls for construction." Erwin frowned at them.

"So you want to use a pneumatic hammer on Annie Leonhart?" Hange grinned sheepishly.

"Kind of…? Look, who knows when Reiner and Bertholdt are going to show up again- we need to be ready for them, and if we can't get answers from Annie, we might as well get something from her. You've gotta use every part of the pig."

"I don't think the Assembly is going to agree to let us run such potentially dangerous tests on a known enemy."

"Aw, come on; I'm sure you can work your silver tongued magic and get them to agree." Their teasing smile slipped away. "Have they rescheduled your summons?"

"Yes," Erwin sighed. "They're pretending to be gracious, saying I can take as much time as I need until I recover, but I'm not stupid- every day I don't go there to argue our case is another day they're working to undermine us."

It was the main reason he had begun working so hard to get back on his feet. Pastor Nick had warned them that the mere fact that he informed them of Historia's existence would put a target on his back. Given that they had plenty of room in the barracks now, Hange put him up in one of the officer's rooms, even filing false documents saying he was their next of kin, but that was only a bandage solution. If the government even suspected they knew too much, they could all be in danger…

I hear that your father told you something that he didn't tell the rest of the class. Can you tell me what that was…?

"How's your recovery going?" Hange asked quietly. Bitterness and fatigue swirled together inside of him.

"Well, I can walk to the bathroom… and I can just about make it back without collapsing. I don't throw up when I eat anymore, and I can mostly feed myself…" The bespectacled soldier beamed at him, as though he were one of their Titan subjects.

"That's great! Look at you, big guy- you're gonna be back on your feet in no time-"

"For the love of god, Hange, can you stop patronizing me? I'm not a dog, I'm not a child, I'm not one of your mindless Titans. It's bad enough when Thomasin does it; if I have to hear one more person take that condescending tone with me, I'm going to stab them in the throat…!" They fell silent as he struggled to catch his breath, his head swimming as his heart pounded. Hange bowed their head, staring at their bandaged hands in their lap. Their swollen fingers had mostly returned to their normal size.

"…sorry, Erwin. I guess I've been spending too much time around Titans… I'm not trying to patronize you," they said quietly as they glanced back up at him. "I doubt Thomasin is, either. She lost a limb long before you did; if anyone understands what you're going through, it's her. They say you get back from the world what you put into it, so I thought maybe it would cheer you up a bit if the person you were talking to was cheerful…"

He stared at them. Was that why they always acted so chipper and bubbly until the pressure finally became too much and caused them to break? Were they just trying to keep the spirits of those around them high when death and sorrow were all around? If he were less tired and heartsick, he would have been grateful to them, but now…

"The only thing that can cheer me up is feeling like my old self again. Hell, not even my old self- I just don't want to feel like a burdensome child anymore…" Hange's brow quirked over the frame of their goggles.

"Oh? Is that what the bottle of wine behind your headboard is for?" He turned quickly, cursing under his breath as he also spotted the green bottleneck poking out from between the mattress and headboard. Shifting, he began pushing it further down.

"That was a gift from Pixis."

"Weird; I usually don't hide my gifts." They leaned closer to him, a knowing, conspiratorial look gleaming in their eyes. "Methinks you aren't supposed to have that, Commander."

"God have mercy if you try to blackmail me, Hange- our language does not have words for the agony I will visit upon -"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, Erwin! First of all… considering that I can just move my chair slightly out of your range and you'd be incapable of reaching me, your threats are meaningless. But more importantly… why are you hiding booze?" Their brows furrowed as concern overtook their expression. "That's not like you… that's more like Mik-"

"I'm not hiding anything," he quickly cut Hange off, not willing to let them continue that sentence. "I'm not getting drunk in secret like Shadis. It's just here for safekeeping because someone is hellbent on micromanaging every aspect of my life right now."

"Mmmmmaybe that's because someone actually knows a bit more about what's best for your life right now than you do. Like, clearly I am not happy when Moblit drugs my food to make me sleep, but sometimes I have a tendency to push myself too far and he can see that. Maybe right now, Thomasin can see that you're frustrated and she just wants to make sure that you don't do something stupid… like drink an entire bottle of wine by yourself."

"I would never drink an entire bottle of wine by myself." After all, it had taken five of them to polish off that Orvud vintage Mike had pilfered from Shadis… Levi refused to drink after them, even with Horace's insistence, so Cecile happily drank his share… God, had that only been six years ago? It felt like a distant childhood memory. They'd all been so happy, so careless, completely ignorant that death was coming from beyond the Walls, and now death had finally caught up to-

"-win. Erwin." He shook himself awake, blinking a few times to chase away the visions of those memories. "Are you okay?" Hange's voice was quiet, scared, the way it used to get during missions when they first joined the Corps. "Maybe we should stop now. You've got enough things on your mind to deal with-"

"No, I don't. That's the problem. I need to keep my mind busy." Letting it wander was dangerous. "A blade needs a whetstone, and brain needs information. You said that one of the Titan Shifters was named 'Ymir', yes? She was a member of the 104th?" Still looking uncertain, Hange nodded slowly.

"Right. Apparently she was close to Historia Reiss."

"Go in my office and find the personnel files for this Ymir, and bring Ilse Langner's file, too." As they went to sort through the cabinet carrying the files, he pulled one of the journals detailing the latest batch of experiments closer, halfheartedly flipping through it.

Even if he wasn't able to harden, Eren's Titan form had the size and dexterity to do construction work that would take humans days in a matter of minutes. He frowned as he noted something the boy had written in his Titan form.

I can't figure outthe hardening what my father did to me

His writing had grown illegible afterwards, and he'd passed out soon after, but coupled with his basement apparently holding some clue about the Titans, it pointed to the good doctor being more than what he seemed on the surface. They sorely needed to look into his background, but there were so many other things that required their attention and only so little time to deal with all of them. Hange came back with that jittery, manic expression they always wore when they spotted a particularly fascinating Titan.

"Look at this." They already had the folders open, dropping them both on Erwin's lap. He adjusted them slightly so he could see both at the same time, his brows scrunching together as he spotted what he assumed had Hange so excited. Each personnel file had a portrait of the soldier, mostly intended to help identify the dead.

"They could be sisters…"

"Right!?" Even though they were graphite drawings in black and white, the resemblance was uncanny, from the shape of their faces to the freckles spotting their cheeks- even the length of their hair. "Ilse said that the Titan she found appeared to show her respect- it made a bowing motion and said 'Lady Ymir, welcome'. I have to wonder, is it possible this Titan mistook Ilse for Ymir? And if it did… why call her 'Lady'?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with why she took an interest in Historia. Who knows- perhaps Ymir was also the bastard of some lord and felt a kinship with the girl."

"Anything is possible at this point." Hange sighed, slumping in their seat. "I keep telling myself I'm crazy, but the more I think about it, the more I start to believe that… there might be a place out there where other humans are living. Somewhere beyond the Walls…" Erwin kept his face carefully neutral as he closed the folders and shifted to turn his attention to Hange.

"What do you mean?" They lifted their head, frowning at him.

"Don't play stupid with me, Erwin; you figured this out months ago. The fact that Shiganshina's gate was kicked in from the outside? I thought you were crazy- it never even occurred to me that anyone who wasn't in the Survey Corps would dare go outside the Walls, but… it's the only thing that makes sense. The Walls are made of hardened Titans, Annie's Titan can leave behind hardened skin even after the Titan itself vanishes- who knows how many other Titans exist that can do something similar!?

Maybe… maybe there's a city of people who can turn into Titans out there… maybe they're just a few kilometers away from our old base and if we'd managed to push further five years ago, we could have found them and stopped them before they destroyed the gates…" The usual excitement with which they spoke about Titans was noticeably absent, their voice heavy with regret and resentment. Turning as much as he could, Erwin reached out, having to stretch and lean a bit to cover Hange's hand with his own.

"Thinking about 'maybes' and 'could haves' and 'what ifs' isn't going to help us now. We did as much as we were able to back then. If we'd stumbled upon such a place, chances are the Survey Corps would have been wiped out then and there and there would be no one left to fight for humanity here and now." They still weren't entirely convinced.

"…maybe we could have talked to them. We could have learned why they wanted to destroy the Walls and eliminate humanity. Maybe they were mad. Maybe when humanity fled behind the Walls, they were left behind because they could turn into Titans."

"For some reason, I don't think Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover were alive a hundred and seven years ago."

"You never know! Titans can regenerate limbs- maybe their healing ability extends to aging!" Hange sighed again, but it was a far more relaxed sigh this time. "What I wouldn't give to have a bit of that myself- I looked in the mirror the other day and found a bunch of gray hairs." Erwin gave a wry laugh.

"About time you caught up; I've been pulling out gray hairs for years." He was lucky that they blended in so well with his pale blonde locks, but at the rate things were going, he was going to be more gray than blonde sooner rather than later.

"It's not the same with you. You've always been old, Erwin. Age becomes you. Not me. I don't want that. I'm supposed to keep my youthful good looks for ten more years, at least!"

"Aging is inevitable, Hange; embrace it."

"Never! You're asking me to embrace the inevitability of death!" They'd meant it as a joke, clearly, but what little good mood he'd been in vanished immediately as soon as he heard those words. Yes… death was inevitable, wasn't it? It didn't wait for gray hair and wrinkles; it took the strong in the prime of their lives and all anyone could do was accept the void that was left behind.

~o0o~

Every day was a constant reminder of his inadequacy and failure. Even the victory of finally walking out to his office (granted leaning heavily on a crutch for balance) was offset by the worst pain he'd ever experienced in his life waking him just that night. He would have fallen out of bed had Thomasin not rushed in to catch him, holding him steady as he screamed, crying out in agony as knives were driven into his hand.

"Your arm?" she asked, pulling his shirt back.

"My hand… my hand! Oh, god, it's killing me…!" He could barely speak from the pain, his teeth clenched so hard it would have hurt if all of his consciousness wasn't focused on the hand he knew wasn't there but could feel being flayed. Thomasin began rubbing and massaging his stump, kneading the cramping muscles with her thumbs.

"I know," she told him, "I know it hurts. The pain medicine doesn't really help with this…"

"It's not my arm- it's my hand!" He flexed his fingers desperately but it wasn't helping because there were no fingers to flex.

"I know. Are you clenching your fist?" He nodded, barely realizing that she probably couldn't see him in the dark. "Close your eyes and picture your hand in your mind while you're doing it. Sometimes that helps a little." That sounded so stupid, but the pain wasn't easing up at all and he was on the verge of tears- if she'd told him drinking poison would help, he'd throw back a shot of acid.

The whole ordeal probably only lasted about half an hour, tops, but it felt as though he'd been fighting for his life for hours. The pain didn't even go away completely- there was still an uncomfortable buzzing, as though he'd been laying on his hand all night and it had fallen asleep.

"What was that…" he asked breathlessly, "what the hell was that!?"

"Pain," Thomasin told him plainly, still rubbing his stump as though she were trying to rub the feeling back into it. The warmth from the friction of her hands did help a little. "It can come out of nowhere, or build up all day. It can last a few minutes, or a few hours." The room was dark but Erwin still turned to look at his wife, a half remembered conversation for years ago returning to his mind in bits and pieces.

Does it… hurt…?

You wouldn't believe me if I told you…

"This happened to you, too." It wasn't a question, just a horrible, horrible realization. "How… how long-"

"Attacks like this? About four years. It was really bad at first, just like it is for you now. That first winter… I used to cry myself to sleep, it hurt so much. Mr. Reed would send me out behind the shop because my screaming put off customers. It's always worse in the winter, and when it rains… and usually at night. Heat helps." Still rubbing what was left of his arm with one hand, the other went to his cheek, warm, almost hot from all the rubbing. "It gets better eventually, just like everything else. These days, it's like stubbing my toe- yeah, it hurts like a bitch when it happens, but it's so rare that as soon as it's over, I stop thinking about it."

"…I can't do this," Erwin whispered, his throat aching and tight. "I can't live like this. My mind is not equipped to deal with pain like this."

"I have it on good authority that you were riding a horse for hours immediately after losing your arm. I could barely cling to consciousness after I lost my leg- there was no way in hell I would have been able to get myself out of that forest, horse or no. If someone as weak as me can make it through this, it is impossible that you can't do the same, Erwin. Not improbable- impossible. You are the strongest, bravest person I've ever known… you're just tired. Everything seems like it's too hard when you're tired."

She wasn't wrong. Judging by how absolute the darkness in the room was, it was probably two or three in the morning. He hoped he hadn't woken the other Scouts. He had definitely woken her. Now that he no longer required constant supervision, she'd moved from sleeping in the chair beside his bed to the couch in his office, arguing that he needed peace and quiet to rest. Maybe that had been true before, but now… now what he needed was warmth and comfort.

"Will you sleep with me for the rest of the night?"

"I don't know if you-"

"Please." If even he could hear the desperation in his voice, there was no way she couldn't. He heard her sigh, quiet though it was.

"Alright. Lemme get on your other side- the last thing you want is my massive head hitting your stump."

"But-"

"Scoot over, you ox, or do you expect me to float next to the bed?" He moved further to the right side of the mattress as she crawled over his legs, burrowing under the covers and popping back out to make sure the pillow that had rested under his stump was folded high enough (he was supposed to keep it elevated, but sleeping on his side when he was alone proved to be a lesson in futility).

Resting her head on his left shoulder, Thomasin snuggled up against his side, and as Erwin wrapped his arm around her, a strange bitterness swelled within him. They'd laid like this before when they were awake, but when they slept, he always rolled onto his side, his other arm naturally falling to embrace her as well. If he rolled over now, that useless hunk of meat would just flop limply into whatever space there was. Even the simplest of comforts had been ripped away from him…

Thomasin must have been just as tired as he was, because it only took a few minutes for the remaining tension to leave her body and her breathing to even out, the long, slow exhales warm against his chest.

The numbness in his hand was almost completely gone by that time, so Erwin focused on her breathing and let the cadence of it lull him to sleep as well. Normally, he was a very deep sleeper, so he probably hadn't fallen asleep entirely yet. That was the only reason such a quiet sound would have awoken him when anyone who'd ever tried could attest that waking him usually involved several dedicated seconds of shaking. It was so quiet he almost thought he'd imagined or dreamed it at first, but then he heard it again. A tiny little mewl of a whimper.

"Thomasin?" She didn't respond, but continued making those noises. Now that he was fully awake, he could feel her fingers twitching where they were clutching his shirt, the damp heat soaking into the fabric against her cheek. He remembered her crying in her sleep the last time she was in Trost, too, undoubtedly haunted by the horrors that had become her life up until that point. What horrors were plaguing her now? Was this… was this why she insisted on sleeping in his office, where he couldn't hear her? He reached over to try and shake her awake, immediately realizing that his fingers couldn't actually touch anything. It was harder to shake her with his left hand, given the odd angle, but he managed to jostle her a bit.

"Thomasin… Thomasin. Wake up." It took a few good shakes before she roused, confused and groggy.

"Buh…?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"…oh… did I wake you? 'm sorry…" Her head went limp again, and mere seconds later, her breathing had grown slow and even.

She spent the entirety of the next day trying to convince him that he was crazy for thinking anything was wrong. If it weren't for the dark spot on his shirt where her tears hadn't dried yet, she would have insisted that she hadn't been crying at all, but as she couldn't, she just brushed off all his concerns.

"It's nothing, Smith. Sometimes I get night terrors; it happens to people."

"Then why won't you at least tell me what's scaring you so much that it's making you cry?"

"I don't know!" she snapped. "I don't remember! I never remember my dreams; people who do are weird! Look, I had a scary dream, you woke me up, and it stopped. Problem solved. Why are you harping on about this?"

He stared at her as she added cool water to the steaming basin, her hair twisted into a bun and held back from her face by the white scarf that was part of her uniform. The annoyed set of her jaw and purse of her lips was so familiar that, if it weren't for the dark circles under her eyes and the faint lines by her mouth, she would have looked like a cadet again, lambasting him for his stupid desire to be eaten by a Titan. He wondered, suddenly, if she cried in her sleep while she was in the Training Corps, too. If those hysterical tears she'd wept atop Wall Maria carried all throughout her life in Shiganshina and Calaneth…

"I don't want you to be afraid," he told her quietly. "I don't want you to cry." She'd been wringing the excess water from the cloth in her hands, but stopped suddenly, her body hunching in on itself like a wilting flower even as her fingers clenched the washcloth so hard he could see the tendons standing out against the backs of her hands. When she finally spoke, her voice was terse, clipped, as though she were trying her damnedest not to snap at him again.

"Look, Erwin… I was probably just dreaming about the Titans, okay? Half of the Calaneth hospital was sent up to Stohess to deal with that nightmare, and the rest of us were sent to help with the Trost defensive line since the hospital here is still… nonexistent. I'm a civilian now- I think I'm allowed to be a little afraid of Titans, especially since I can't fucking escape them these days…" she grit that last part out through clenched teeth, and it took him a moment to realize she was talking about him. He was why she couldn't escape them, because where they went, he followed. If it weren't for him, Titans could just remain an abstract concept for her like they were for the rest of the civilian population.

"I'm sorry…" He reached out to her as she finally turned around, lathering the cloth with soap. "We've barely been married for two weeks, and all I've done in that time is unleash Titans within the Walls… if you want a divorce, I understand perfectly."

"Shut up, Smith." He had no choice but to shut his mouth- and eyes- as she scrubbed his face. "The Titans aren't your fault… if anything, maybe I should be grateful to them. I don't think I've spent this much time with you… ever. I wasn't expecting to see you again until next month at the earliest. It's not ideal circumstances, but… I'm happy to see you again so soon…" He couldn't answer until she wrung out the cloth and wiped his mouth. The traces of soap clinging to his eyelashes stung when he opened them.

"…were you happy when you learned I'd lost my arm?"

"What? NO! God, no, that's sick! Why would you even say something like that!?"

"I thought maybe you'd be happy since you thought I would have to retire." She stared at him, hurt shining in her big, dark eyes, her voice tight.

"I'm not that horrible of a person, Erwin, god… Last night, you had a taste of what I lived through for years; do you really think I would wish that kind of pain on anyone, let alone someone I love as much as you? This is why I wanted you to retire, because I didn't ever want you to be hurt like this, or worse. I can't believe you think that low of me…"

"I don't," he told her truthfully. "If anything, I think that low of me…" It was something that had been plaguing his waking thoughts for days, as his strength began coming back and his mind once more started turning towards his duties as commander.

This was a blessing, this second chance at life he had been given, and now, he couldn't help but wonder if he was squandering it, running headlong back into the thing that nearly ended it. No one would hold it against him if he retired and chose to spend the rest of his days living a simpler, happier life… it was expected of him. His Scouts would salute hm and wish him well as they continued putting their lives on the line… He could move to Calaneth with Thomasin and either find some line of work he could do one-handed, or else, just live comfortably on his pension and savings… maybe start a family… That was the kind of life his father probably would have wanted for him… They could be happy until the Walls fell… couldn't that be enough?

Mike had mentioned the possibility of retiring after they sealed up Wall Maria, but he would never see that day. If he was here, would he agree that Erwin needed to continue pushing forward, to ensure that all those lives lost weren't lost in vain, or would he warn him not to push his luck and take this as a sign that it was his time to step down? He'd never wanted his old captain to be standing by the window, his low voice rumbling as he offered advice, more than in that moment. But he was not there, and never would be again- all Erwin had of him now was the frayed, stained Wings of Freedom that he kept on his nightstand and stared at as he was falling asleep. The patch belonged to Mike, but in his mind and heart, it represented Cecile and Horace, and Frey and Lisa and Gerwalt, and all the soldiers who'd been lost over the years…

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind, fighting to subjugate and bury them as deep as he had room for. He'd been burying his thoughts and feeling for so long, he was beginning to run out of space… The best way he'd found to stop thinking was to distract himself with something else, but there wasn't much else he could focus on. He settled on Thomasin's hands as she scrubbed his chest. Granted there was a washcloth between them, but he still remembered what her hands had felt like running over his skin, that salacious look in her eyes as she stared at him… Maybe it wasn't the most appropriate distraction, but it worked well enough that by the time she reached his waist, pulling the blankets down from his hips, he was hard. Thomasin barely glanced at his cock, giving him an understanding smile.

"That happens more often than you might think."

"With you, I'm not surprised…" He could just imagine the Garrison soldiers staring at her and wondering what her breasts and ass looked like under her dark blue uniform dress.

"If you were anyone else, I'd ignore you, but… since you are my husband and I'm not actually on the job right now, I suppose I can give you preferential treatment. You want me to take care of you?" Wasn't that what he'd always wanted, for her to dote and fawn over him, and to take up all of her time? Rather than admit to any of that, Erwin nodded silently, and Thomasin wiped away the rest of the soap suds on his stomach before tossing the cloth back in the basin. "Alright. You want me to use my hands or mouth?" The words were on his tongue before he could even think about what he was saying.

"I want to have sex." She blinked at him, her lips twisting into a slight frown.

"I don't think you're quite ready for that yet."

"Yes, I am." He pushed himself into a seated position, ignoring her attempts to lay him back down. "I might not be the best you've ever had, but I think I can pleasure you just fine with one hand."

"What? No, I don't give a fuck about that. I don't want you tiring yourself out with stupid bullshit, Erwin—"

"Being with my wife is 'stupid bullshit' now?"

"That's not what I-"

"Are you not attracted to me anymore?" he asked quietly. She practically choked on her indignation, but he continued. "When you said your leg was 'gross' and that no one would want to see it, I thought you were insane, but being on the other side of it now, I understand what you meant. It is repulsive, isn't it-?"

"No! God no, you fucking idiot! Look at me!" Thomasin roughly grabbed his cheeks, forcing him to meet her eyes, the anger and frustration burning in them like coals. "You could be a torso with a head, and you would still be the most beautiful man in the world. Other guys aren't half the man you are, and now that you're, like, three-fourths of a man, that reduces them into some fraction I can't even begin to express." Her gaze softened and she leaned forward, kissing his forehead.

"So there's a little less of you to love now… that just means I have to love the rest of you extra hard to make up for it. I swear to you, Erwin, the only reason I don't wanna fuck you right now is because I'm worried it might be too much for you to handle at the moment." He fixed her with a deadpan stare.

"Thomasin, you're not so good at sex that it's going to literally kill me."

"You don't know that." He wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer so he could rest his head against her stomach.

"We don't even have to have sex. I don't care about that. I just want to be close to you…" Close without him being so sick he could barely think, without her crying in her sleep… He wanted to go back to what they'd had on that rainy day in Calaneth, laying together until their breaths and hearts moved in tandem. Closing the distance between them, Thomasin sat on the edge of the bed, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck, giving his lips a soft peck.

"You promise to tell me if you start getting lightheaded or out of breath?"

"I promise," he muttered against her mouth. "I would die of shame if I died before I got you off…"

"Tch. The virgin has sex twice and thinks he's a big shot."

"I wasn't a virgin."

For one horrible moment, he feared that his time spent bedridden might have stolen away his ability to kiss, just as it had every other simple task he was in the process of relearning, but thankfully it seemed that even the cruelest of gods had mercy. It still felt awkward as she smothered his lips in feathery kisses, clumsily cupping her jaw with his left hand when he usually did so with his right, but at the very least, his mouth still moved with a practiced ease, nipping and sucking at her lips until she parted them, allowing him entry. His tongue lavished hers as he tugged the scarf from her hair, pulling it loose from the bun it had been confined in.

Thomasin's hands pulled away from him just long enough for him to hear the soft clinking of belts being unbuckled and something heavy falling to the ground. They returned, going straight for his chest, his nipples, pinching and rolling the tender nubs until they were as hard as his cock and he was moaning against her mouth, arching into her touch. It had only been a few days- well, conscious days- since they'd touched like this; he'd gone longer without seeing her, but he needed this. Her hands, her lips, her breath, her warmth- it was a panacea, soothing away the hurt and grief and shame and making him feel whole.

He reached down, unbuttoning her dress and slipping his hand inside. He'd almost forgotten how good her breast felt in his hand, even if her nipples weren't nearly as hard as his own. She pulled away from their kiss just enough to breathe, her breath almost too hot against his cheek.

"Lay back down."

"No. I want to stay like this…" She had to bend double to kiss him when he laid flat on his back, and he didn't want her lips too far away for any period of time. For a moment, she looked as though she might argue, but ultimately, she just reached around him, piling the pillows so he could lean comfortably against the headboard. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled her panties off of her left thigh, not bothering to remove them entirely. He was already wetting his fingers, ready to show her that he wasn't completely useless, but she pulled them from his mouth, climbing onto his lap.

"You don't have to worry about that. I'm good."

"Wh-what are you talking about…?" Pressing a kiss to the pads of each of his damp fingers, she smiled sweetly at him.

"I just wanna make you feel good right now, okay? So just relax." He wanted to protest- that wasn't what he wanted- but she bowed her head, spitting on his cock and stroking the shaft until it was slick and twitching and his head was falling back as he moaned pitifully.

Holding her skirt under her chin and his cock in one hand, Thomasin lifted herself up and positioned him as she slid down on him. She wasn't as wet as she'd been in the past, the resulting friction almost more than he could stand, but she was so hot, her walls already squeezing him. Fully seated on his lap, she let her head fall forward to rest in the crook between his neck and shoulder. Erwin longed to wrap both arms around her, to pull her flush against him and never let go, but he settled for positioning his left arm to hold her close to his chest while his hand stroked her fluffy curls. Slowly, she began rocking her hips, steadily moving faster until she was breathing hard and he was groaning and rolling his hips to try and match her pace. That was a fool's errand, as his weakened muscles quickly grew tired, but in his pleasure-addled state, the burn in his thighs felt almost as good as the hands massaging and lightly scratching his back.

He pulled the collar of her dress aside, sucking that spot on her neck just above her collarbone, biting the tender flesh only to immediately lave it with his tongue, soothing away the ache. Wetting his thumb, he reached under her skirt, rubbing hard little circles around her clit the way she'd shown him she liked it. She still wasn't nearly as wet as she'd been either of the times they'd made love, but before he could even think about rectifying that, she reached down, pulling his hand away.

"Don't worry about me," she muttered in his ear, dragging her tongue along the outer shell. The shudder that passed through him couldn't stop his frown, however.

"I want you to feel good, too…"

"I do. Seeing you feel good gets me so hot…" She clenched around him, grinding harder against his lap until he was crying out, his rejected hand going to her hip. She was lying, but he was already reaching his limit and it was becoming increasingly harder to care about anything but the pleasure building in the tip of his cock. A breathy chuckle in his ear sent a delicious tingle rippling along his spine.

"That's some grip strength, Smith. I guess I know which hand you jerk off with~" Except no, he usually pleasured himself with his right hand. That was gone, but the person he always thought about when he did it was here, warm and soft like he always imagined. Moving his lips from the quickly forming bruise on her throat to an unblemished part of her neck, Erwin paused for a second to inhale deeply. That gentle, floral scent he associated with her was missing. She'd been using his soap for the past two weeks, living in his quarters, sleeping in his clothes… even though he couldn't smell it, some ridiculous part of his mind told him she smelled like him, that scent that complimented him now overridden and reeking of death, except the only person who would ever realize that was gone now…

"Ow… Okay, you don't have to show off how strong you are, Erwin, I get it…" Everything was falling apart, but she was still here, right now, with him. Tangible comfort. If he shut his eyes hard enough, he could pretend the world wasn't going to hell around them and they were back in Calaneth or even Shiganshina, it was raining, the world was simple, he was happy- "Ow! God fucking damn, Erwin- don't bite me that hard; it hurts! Let go- let go of me…!"

She tried to pull away, and his arm snaked around her waist, holding her tighter, his muscles and tendons trembling as he went stiff. As soon as he let people get more than arm's length away, they died horribly. He couldn't- wouldn't- make that mistake with her, not again. A sharp sting in his hand- his left hand- had him instinctively draw away from the source of pain. Thomasin nearly fell off the bed in her haste to climb off him, more preoccupied with the red smear on her neck than the sticky white staining her skirt.

"You asshole…!"

"I'm sorry- I didn't mean to hurt you. I- why are you pulling away from me?" Erwin reached out to her, only for her to viciously slap his hand away. He could see the raised, pink marks on the back of his hand where she had scratched him.

"I fucking told you don't come inside me and you did it again! What is wrong with you?!" What was wrong with him? So much, but he didn't want to think about that right now, so he ignored her question, posing one of his own.

"Why don't you want to have my children?" His gaze followed her as she made her way to the bathroom, not bothering with her prosthesis or even crutches, balancing on one leg as she hopped around the bed better than many people could balance on two. "Why are you so disgusted by the idea of starting a family with me?" Her hand was on the bathroom door, but she paused, and he pressed harder before she could flee into the adjacent room. "Do you think I'd be as bad a father as I am a husband?" He could see her fingers tighten on the doorknob.

"…I don't want to think that… but have you ever given me any reason to believe otherwise?" He wished she had just slapped him instead. If she wanted to hurt him, that would have been so much simpler and to the point. He should have put on his pants and gone out to his office to clear his mind with mission reports and adjusted death tolls of all the civilians he'd gotten killed. That would have been a less miserable thing than listening to the shower run full blast as his wife scrubbed every trace of him off herself.

I would rather kill myself than be a single mother…

You're married now, remember? To me…?

That doesn't change anything…

He closed his eyes against the bitter tears stinging them. Deep down, he understood where her apprehension was coming from; from Thomasin's perspective, he was probably little more than some migratory vagrant who showed up occasionally to eat her food and dump his problems on her, only to fuck off to who knew where to accrue more problems that he would inevitability return to dump on her again. Hardly father material.

But… she couldn't truly believe that he was doing this all for nothing? She had to understand that everything he did was for the sake of humanity, for her, to keep her and everyone like her safe… It wouldn't be forever. As soon as they sealed Wall Maria and Shiganshina, and discovered what was in that basement, their lives could be simple and safe and happy. They were close… so close. Why couldn't she trust that such a future was waiting right around the corner? Why couldn't she trust him?

~o0o~

The bitterness and loathing, directed both in and outward, festered throughout the day. The release of sex usually afforded him at least a few hours of relative calm and contentment, but this ruined orgasm only added to his frustration. There was a noticeable chill in the air despite the summer warmth, a strained, awkward silence. When he half stumbled to his office, Thomasin didn't even voice her usual warning not to overwork. On any normal day, he would have been writing condolence letters to the families of the fallen, but a few days ago, he was stricken with the horrifying realization that he didn't even know how to properly hold a pen in his left hand. It was far more fiddly than a spoon.

Erwin had spent days just trying to remember where his fingers were supposed to go when he couldn't even use his right hand as a guide. His work these days was relearning how to sign his name, despising the childish script he was reduced to, the way his hand smeared the ink when he tried to write more than a few words… So many little irritations, like a hundred little cuts he slowly bled out from… He hadn't even noticed the room growing dark until Thomasin set a lit lantern on his desk, the warm glow almost too bright for his eyes.

"You should take a break. I'm going to go get you something to eat." The halfhearted argument and thanks that he normally would have offered up turned to ash on his tongue, and he remained silent. Maybe she waited a little longer in front of his desk than normal, but she too said nothing, heading out the door. Even with it closed, he could hear the faint 'thump' of her wooden leg on the wooden floor outside, growing fainter as she headed down the stairs.

He hated this. He hated every second of this, being weak and useless, being reduced to a child… Pushing himself to his feet, Erwin stalked back to his bedroom, only stumbling once before he reached his bed. He'd pushed the bottle so far down, it was a miracle it didn't break against the bed frame. It wasn't a vintage, but it did come from Orvud. He wondered if there were bottles of wine and whiskey hidden under Mike's bed, or if he just stashed them in his desk. He doubted the section commanders' rooms had been cleaned out, yet. They needed to go through them, to return their personal effects to their next of kin, Horace and Mike's parents, Cecile's grandfather… he needed to write letters explaining to these people that they'd outlived their children and grandchildren because of his foolishness…

Pulling the cork out with his teeth resulted in more than a few pieces of it breaking off, but it wasn't as though he cared about closing it back again. He spit it out somewhere on the floor. That first draught on his tongue was almost too much, a burst of sweetness before his mouth puckered from the dryness. The warmth running down his throat slowly spread out through his veins, out to each finger and toe…

He'd laid down, stretched out on the couch, when the door opened. There was a time when half a bottle of wine would barely provide a pleasurable buzz, but every other part of him that had been strong once had been taken away, so why not that as well?

"Erwin? What's wrong, why are you-?" He could hear her sniffing the air, the 'thump-step' of her gait as she set the tray she was carrying on his desk and approached him. "Oh my fucking god…" She grabbed the bottle and shook it, the tinny sloshing revealing how much of its contents were left, or rather, how little. "This is from that piece of shit Pixis, isn't it!? I warned him- I fucking warned him! I'm gonna fucking murder that man…!"

"You warned him of what- that I'm not allowed to drink?" He wasn't slurring, not by a long shot, but there was still a slight fog in his mind that made picking out which words to say a bit harder than it normally was.

"Yes!"

"I think I can handle a sip or two-"

"How big are your sips?! You're on pain medicine, Smith! You can't drink with morphin- that shit'll kill you! Especially on an empty stomach!"

"In Krolva, there was a man who drank a fifth of gin a day for twenty years. He was fine."

"Just because he didn't die immediately doesn't mean he was fine. I'm pouring the rest of this out." He sat up so fast the room began spinning violently, but after a bit of fumbling, he managed to grab her skirt, holding her in place.

"Don't you fucking dare. That wine is expensive."

"You can't drink, Erwin-"

"I'm a grown man- I can do whatever I damn well please!" As soon as the words left his lips, Erwin regretted them, wishing he could pull them back, hating himself for snapping. Hesitant, he looked up, expecting to see that old familiar hurt flash across Thomasin's face. It wasn't there, her expression hardening into something stuck between disdain and disgust.

"…a grown man should be able to feed himself." She slammed the bottle on the table, thankfully not hard enough to shatter it, snatching up the tray once more and all but throwing it onto his lap. The same terrible bread as always, but the stew was darker and thicker and smelled much better than anything he'd ever expect to come out of the Survey Corps' kitchens. "Go on. Eat. Since you're a grown man, I'm sure you can manage this without spilling any on yourself."

The shame burning within him quickly gave way to spite, and as Erwin picked up the spoon, he willed himself to forget how foreign it felt in his left hand. It was fortunate that Thomasin opted to light the candles around his office rather than watch him eat, because he was certain her cold, dark stare would have thrown him off. It may have been petty, but he wasn't willing to let her be right about this. Each spoonful was as calculated as a position change in his formations, and eventually, the bowl emptied. He pushed the tray off his lap, standing.

"Look, mommy-" Once he'd gotten her attention, he gestured to his immaculate shirt, "-are you satisfied? Can I have my big boy juice, now?"

"Erwin, don't-" He'd already snatched up the wine, filling his mouth so much it was hard to swallow. Thomasin hobbled over to him, grabbing the bottle and pulling it away with a weary sigh. "Why are you doing this? This isn't like you…" He laughed humorlessly.

"This is exactly like me! On our first expedition, the first thing I did when we got back to Ehrmich was go drink! If Zachary and that fucker Aleister hadn't wasted so much of my time complaining about how worthless the Corps is, I probably would have gone for a drink in Stohess the other day, too. Everything is falling apart; I've lost everything… you can't take this away from me, too! If I can't even have a drink, I might as well just kill myself now!" He had to lean against his desk as the room rocked violently back and forth, his head spinning. Thomasin set the bottle back on the desk as well, just out of his reach, and wrapped her arms around him.

"You haven't lost everything… you still have me. Isn't that worth something…?" The laughter bubbled up in his throat, and he leaned forward, resting his cheek atop her hair.

"What is this, a test? What do I want more; my friends' lives or you?"

"No, that's not what I-"

"I mean, if they were here, they'd probably demand I say 'you'." That was the kind of people they were, so good, so loving… so much better than him in every way that mattered… Something thumped against the door, and it took a good few seconds for the sound to reach through the fog in his mind.

"Oi, open up."

"This isn't a bad time, is it?"

"Kind of-"

"Come in!" Pulling away from Thomasin, Erwin nearly tripped over his own feet getting to the door. Of course he tried to open it with his right hand before remembering to switch. That definitely only happened once and not a few times. Hange and Levi were a sight for sore eyes, and he told them as much as he ushered them into the office. The shorter man waved away his breath.

"Ugh, you smell like paint thinner. What the fuck have you been drinking?"

"Pixis smuggled him a bottle of wine."

"Wine from Pixis? That shit's probably turpentine and grape juice." Hange grabbed his collar, pulling him down enough that they could whisper harshly in his ear.

"What the fuck, Erwin? You weren't supposed to drink that until you were fully recovered!" At one point, he would have had a very good and persuasive argument for them lined up, but in the moment, he could only focus on the earth-shattering realization he had just happened upon.

"Hange… didju know you have a- a glasses…?" If he looked at them at just the right angle, he could see his own face reflected in their surface, like a ghostly apparition. Hange pressed their lips together, trying desperately to hold back their laughter.

"Oh god, he's shitfaced. Well, this was a waste of a trip…" Wheeling about on his heel, Erwin nearly toppled over backwards, but managed to remain upright. He was getting more and more steady on his feet; an accomplishment he'd gladly drink to.

"Levi… my small son…"

"…what?" Levi was so short that Erwin had to bend double to reach him, his single arm enough to completely wrap around the other man. He was so delicately built but so strong, so very strong, not just physically but inside as well. Mike had known that- that was why he'd told Erwin to name Levi his lieutenant. Mike was so smart…

"I know I don't tell you this enough… but I'm very proud of you… Papa Erwin loves you very much…" He pressed a small kiss to the top of his head. His hair was straight and very sleek, the exact inverse of Thomasin's, and it didn't smell nearly as good, but it was still soft under his cheek. He could feel the muscles stiffen under his touch, like iron rods.

"…if you ever call me your son again, I will personally ensure that you are never able to have any of your own…" Hange squealed quietly.

"This is adorable…!"

"No, it's fucking not!"

"No, it's not, Hange- he's tripping balls. Whatever was in that bottle is mixing with his pain medicine…" He let whatever nonsense Thomasin was bitching about now fade into the background, straightening and throwing his arm around Hange's shoulders; they made for a far more comfortable surface to lean on.

"I love you both… you two are my best friends… you're my only friends…" That comfortable warmth that had been spreading inside him still burned, but it was a cold burn now, filling his veins and the marrow of his bones with ice so cold it hurt, just as much as flames licking his insides would. "Everyone else is dead… everyone I ever loved or cared about is gone… and now, it's just me left behind…" It wasn't just that cold fire filling him up, it was lead too; molten lead, so thick and heavy that it weighed him down, dragging him to the ground in spite of Hange's attempts to keep him upright.

"Everyone is dead because of me, because of my orders, and I don't even have anything to show for it… What am I s'posed to tell their families? How can I-" His throat closed off, a horrible, choked sound all that escaped his lips. How could he expect someone to understand that their child died to save a Titan, that their victories could only be measured in centimeters kept, not even gained? Tears ran down either side of his nose and dripped onto the rug, staining the somewhat faded colors slightly darker and more vibrant.

"It's not fair… It should have been me… why not me- why them…?" Why Mike, torn apart and left to rot until there wasn't even enough to burn…? Why couldn't he have just died in his place? Why… why…? Hange and Levi's shoes took half a step away from him, but one of them laid a light hand on his shoulder. Probably Hange, given how much closer their voice sounded.

"Don't say things like that, Erwin… you don't mean that…"

"Yes, I do!" Yes, he did… It was too much. He couldn't handle all these mounting problems on his own; there had never been an issue within the Survey Corps that he'd had to deal with without Mike's steadfast presence always right there if he needed him… and now, when he needed him the most, he was gone, gone the way of Lisa and Gerwalt and Frey… Even Horace and Cecile, who had been by his side since he'd first been named a captain, always dependable…

He was the oldest surviving member of the Survey Corps now, and all that experience didn't mean jack shit when he couldn't even stop himself from sobbing. Erwin could feel the thumping of uneven steps growing closer, but when he looked up, the floor tilted so violently that he nearly fell over. Thomasin lowered herself to the floor in such a fluid motion, he would have been impressed if he could focus on anything other than how dizzy he was.

"Come'ere," she muttered, her arms outstretched and inviting. He felt like an old, crippled dog, crawling forward on three feet. It would have been kinder to just take him out behind the stables and end his misery; humanity showed more compassion to animals than their fellow man. He collapsed into her lap, burying his face in her stomach as she began combing her fingers through his hair. His father's hands had been bigger, warmer, but her touch was softer. Wrapping his arm weakly around her waist, he tried to focus on the whooshing sound of his blood in his ears instead of whatever his friends and wife were talking about. He didn't want to know what a pathetic, miserable husk of a man they thought he was; their opinions of him couldn't be less than that of himself…

~o0o~

The overwhelming urge to vomit was what immediately woke him, but the weak morning sunlight driving ice picks into his eyes the second he opened them didn't help in any considerable way. Groaning weakly, Erwin curled into a tighter ball, or at least tried to. Something was pinning him down. Opening his eyes as little as possible, he noticed the messy auburn hair splayed out across his shins. Hange was sprawled on their back as though they didn't have a care in the world, their mouth slack enough for drool to have collected on their chin where it didn't soak into his pant leg. Shifting just enough that he didn't have to twist his neck uncomfortably, he found himself staring up at Thomasin's sleeping face.

Her rest was not as deep or comfortable as Hange's- understandable, given that the section commander was laying down while his wife was seated once more. Her head had fallen back as she dozed, resting awkwardly against Levi's. The shorter man seemed to be serving as her backrest- Erwin wouldn't have even noticed him were it not for the sunlight gleaming in his hair. He honestly had no idea why they were all sleeping on the floor of his office, but he assumed it had something to do with his head pounding as fiercely as it was. That pain was exacerbated as he attempted to sit up, the vice his skull was caught in tightening no matter how slowly he moved. The shuffling of his clothes woke Levi first, of course, his head snapping up so sharply that Erwin could hear the dull crack as his skull collided with Thomasin's, immediately proceeded by her howling in pain, a sound that tore through his already aching ears like a blade.

"Owwww…! My fucking head… Goddamn, Levi- what the fuck!?"

"One-arm McGee's getting' up. He's probably gonna puke- I'm getting out of the splash radius." Well, he wasn't planning on it, but the reminder did nothing to help the churning in his stomach. Thomasin muttered a curse under her breath, rolling him off her lap before pushing her leg under herself and standing with more ease than he could dream of managing. Sure, she stumbled a bit, but she was upright while he was still trying to pull his numb legs out from under Hange's massive head. Two dark hands grabbed his wrist, trying to heave him up.

"C'mon. Let's get you in the bathroom before you make a mess out here…" Levi walked over to his other side, rolling Hange away with his heel none too gently.

"Move your ass, four-eyes, unless you wanna be a toilet." Ignoring the bespectacled soldier's dismayed whines, he grabbed Erwin under the armpits and hoisted him to his feet. His insides flopped about like a landed fish and he had to swallow hard.

"Stop- I'm going to be sick…"

"Not out here, you're not. Get up, get up, get up; I'm not dealing with you hungover."

The shorter man half dragged, half carried him back through the bedroom and into the bathroom, Thomasin trailing close behind. The cold tiles against his bare feet were a brisk wake up, but as much as he didn't want to give in to it, the contents of his stomach were already crawling back up his throat. He barely managed to stumbled the remaining few steps to the toilet and lift the lid before he was heaving the foul liquid burning his throat. He could only balance his weight on his left arm, so he was grateful for the warm, steady hands holding him stable on his right side. Thomasin said something over his head, but he could barely hear her over the retching and splashing and weak moans.

She didn't say anything to him, just rubbed his back until he was done, closing the lid and flushing the vile contents away afterwards. Sitting heavily on the lid, he let his head fall back against the wall, every beat of his pounding heart like a hammer blow against his temple. He could hear water running in the sink, but didn't bother opening his eyes even when he felt the cool, damp rag wiping his face.

"Feeling any better?"

"Kill… me…"

"Can't exactly say I feel sorry for you right now…" Erwin frowned slightly, pushing her hand and the washcloth away.

"Why not? What'd I do?" Her expression was carefully guarded as she looked at him.

"You don't remember?" Slouching, he tried to think back on the events of last night, but his head hurt too much to form a concise picture in his mind.

"I remember we…" What, made love? Could it really be called that? "We argued, I think… I was practicing my handwriting… I must have drunk some of that wine Pixis gave me." That seemed like something he'd do while he was bitter and upset, something stupid and immature and foolish. Thomasin fixed him with a dour stare, her fists on her hips.

" 'Some of that wine'- you polished off half the bottle on an empty stomach, you dipshit." Well, that probably explained why his mouth had tasted like he'd been lapping up garbage juice. "I hope you weren't planning on saving the rest, because we poured it out. And I've confiscated the rest of the alcohol in your office. Clearly, you can't be trusted to make responsible decisions right now." Just yesterday, he would have been upset, offended that she was treating him like a child, but given how miserably hungover he was in that moment, he was only mad that she hadn't stopped him from making such a terrible mistake earlier.

" 'm sorry… I'm so sorry… please, never let me drink again. I don't know what got into me." As she wrung out the washcloth, folding it and laying it over his forehead where it helped quell some of the more intense throbbing between his eyes, her expression softened.

"I think I do. You miss him, don't you…?" He very nearly asked 'who', but really, there could only be one him Erwin could miss so much. His head fell forward, the damp rag falling into his lap.

"…was I talking about him last night?"

"Something like that." She reached down, taking his hand in hers. Her skin was cold from the water, and still slightly damp, but her touch still made him feel a little better. "There's nothing shameful in missing someone you love, Erwin. I think Mike and Cecile and Horace would rather you just openly grieve them instead of trying to forget them at the bottom of a bottle." 'I think Mike and Cecile and Horace would rather be alive…' He didn't say that aloud. He couldn't.

His first shower in two weeks. He'd forgotten how good it felt to have warm water flow over his aching muscles. Thomasin insisted he shower the way she did- seated in a chair- and she remained nearby, helping wash his back and hair, otherwise sitting on the closed toilet just in case he needed help. Apparently, she'd sent Levi out on an errand, because he'd returned with a piece of wax-treated canvas that was clearly cut from the tarps they used to cover their supplies. Thomasin had tightly tied it around his stump, reminding him that he couldn't get it wet until his stitches came out. It was awkward, and he wanted nothing more than to pull the offending bag off, but enduring it was worth it just for the feeling of being well and truly clean after so long.

Even if he didn't put his uniform on afterwards, he still felt ever so slightly more like the Commander of the Survey Corps when he finally stepped back into his office. At least he looked more professional than Hange, whose hair was sticking up in the back as though a black powder explosion had gone off beside it. They were yawning widely, not even bothering to cover their mouth much to Levi's disgust, but they gave Erwin a bright, if not tired smile when their eyes finally opened again.

"Well! Don't we look hale and hearty this fine morning? I guess you got some sleep last night?"

"If you want to call blacking out 'getting some sleep', then yes; I slept like a baby."

"That's not all you did like a baby," Levi muttered under his breath. "You're a sloppy drunk, you know that?"

"I'll have to take your word for it. I apologize to both of you. I take it you came here for a reason last night?" Hange's expression darkened, the smile slipping off their face.

"Yeah… look, we know you're recovering, and we don't want to rush you, but-"

"-but you need to take your sorry ass to Mitras and figure out what the hell is going on with the MPs." It was Erwin's turn to frown as he made his way over to his desk, feeling far more at ease when he was seated behind it.

"What do you mean, with the MPs?" Hange moved to sit on the corner of his desk, their face dark with frustration.

"Since Eren's hardening experiments aren't going according to plan, I figured we could run some experiments on Annie's crystal. The fact that she seemed to form it independent of her Titan body made me wonder if maybe Eren couldn't do the same thing… but when Able went to Stohess to look for her, she'd been moved! And the MPs there told him that she'd been placed in the custody of the Interior Military Police, and that Scouts weren't to be granted access!"

"What?" This was the second time the Military Police had taken an unusual interest in Titans. Hange nodded grimly.

"Not only that. I stepped in to talk to Nick last night- he said he's praying for your pain to ease up, by the way- and I asked him if any members of the Wall church might be willing to talk to us, since we essentially just want to fix what Reiner and Bertholdt destroyed, y'know? And he said the damnedest thing; 'Father Roderich will not suffer anyone else making the same mistake I did'. That's the name of the Wallist who's on the Assembly, isn't it?"

"It is." He reached up, rubbing his brow in an attempt to soothe the ache beneath his skin. "I have a sneaking suspicion there's something about the Titans they don't want us to know… and now, I'm wondering how long it's going to be before they stop asking us to hand Eren over and just come and take him and Historia both by force."

"That's not going to happen on my watch," Levi told him bluntly. "We've sacrificed too much for these idiot brats to just let some rich assholes come and swipe them from under our noses. Eren's going to plug those goddamn holes in Wall Maria, or I'm going to plug every hole in his body and watch him explode, then make Historia use his macerated remains as mortar to brick them up herself."

"Let's hope it won't come to that. I'm going to try and go up to Mitras in a few more days. If Pastor Nick wants to pray for anything, he can pray that these fools see reason and realize that we're on the same side as them…"

000000000

A/N- I'm thinking about all the fics where Erwin is the dommest daddy and how that kind of personality would work in this story… spoiler, it wouldn't ("You're supposed to be submissive!" "Do I look submissive to you?" "Submissive and breeda-" "If you finish that sentence, I will take you penis away from you.")I'm posting this on Thomasin's birthday (May 1st) so that's fun (she wished to spend more time with Erwin, and somewhere in the world, the finger on a monkey's paw curled). So, phantom limb pain is a type of nerve pain, and as someone who has suffered from nerve pain for over a decade, I can honestly say that it is the worst of all pains, and guess what- traditional opioid-based painkillers (such as morphine) do very little for it! You just gotta live with it, and it's hell, but why would you possibly give your characters things to struggle with and adjust to? That's so dumb and lame and boring; everyone knows you stop growing and changing as a person once you reach a certain age. *clenches teeth* It's not like there was an entire section of the Uprising Arc that featured Erwin front and center where maybe you could've slipped in a bit of characterization…

*ahem* Anyway, referring to a comment a lovely reader (Musical Bear) left on the previous chapter- Okay, take all this with an umi da of salt, but regarding the transfusion, it's not that Levi and Erwin have the same blood type so much as… Levi's not really "human". Spoilers for anyone who hasn't read/watched past the Return to Shiganshina arc. Ackermans are literally just born and bred Titans. That's why they're so strong, that's why they heal so quickly- it's probably why the serum doesn't work on them; they are already a form of the thing the serum would turn them into.

Fic canon time (since this is stuff that probably won't appear in the text… maybe, tho?): Ackermans have their own blood type. All Ackermans are this blood type- if an embryo develops in utero that does not have this blood type (if it's like A pos or something), the Ackerman mother's body will attack it, similar to Rh disease, resulting in a termination of the pregnancy (this would happen literally within a week of impregnation, not months down the line). Also, yes- this does mean that an Ackerman man can sire a child who is genetically not an Ackerman. It is exceptionally rare- like, 0.1%- but it can happen.The closest thing to compare their blood to would be O negative, so they can give blood to anyone. Unlike O negative, however, on the rare, rare chance that they'd actually require a transfusion themselves, they could also receive blood from any type. They are machines, genetically modified to be as efficient as possible. Their bodies would break down the actual blood cells, converting any donor blood into plasma in-house (this hyper immune response also leaves them highly resistant to illnesses and poison. Not completely immune, but things that would kill the average person immediately would just leave them incredibly sick). They are basically Wolverine. Important to note- these abilities are not active from birth. The genetic "switch" needs to be flipped, so to speak, and it is not a universal switch (though it is generally triggered by the first instance of the "fight or flight" response, ie- a surge of adreniline and other hormones), so unfortunately some of them (like Levi's mom and Mikasa's dad) are just normal humans whose bodies are not factories. There are drawbacks to awakening the Hackerman genes, but those will start appearing more later…