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)

47. Arrows

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Ch.47- "Arrows"

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Six months ago, living space had been at a premium in Trost. It was no longer the center of commerce in the south, with Shiganshina off limits, but it was still a densely packed, highly populated district. And in a single day, the population had been slashed. Civilian casualties had been thankfully low that time, and the civilians were determined to keep it that way. Everyone who could afford to fled, leaving a surplus of abandoned apartments within the district, and a fair amount of empty homes just outside it, on the Wall Rose side. The landlords were desperate for returns these days, and Erwin gladly preyed on that desperation. It was almost funny, listening to the merchant trying to up-sell him into a larger, more lavish home.

After all, you're a hero of humanity, oh, you're married? Congratulations; a surprise for the missus? Well, surely the wife of Commander of the Survey Corps deserves the best, something a bit more secure- you know, I have properties up by Ehrmich that would be perfect for rearing a family, plenty of space for the kiddies- you are going to have kids, aren't you, Commander? Gotta keep that brilliant bloodline going strong… Erwin had listened to the man go on at length, only interrupting him when he was starting to repeat his selling points to point to the cottage behind him.

"I want this one." The landlord's face fell.

"…are you sure, sir? It's so… small. Fine for a laborer, but hardly suitable for the Commander of-"

"We won't be staying here permanently- only a month."

"N-normally, leases cover six months at minimum-"

"Normally, there are people living in Trost. No one else is going to rent this house any time soon. You can get a month's worth of rent, or you can get nothing- the choice is yours." He turned back to the cottage, his eyes drawn up to the stone chimney jutting up from the roof. It was still summer now, but in his mind's eye, he could imagine smoke curling from it, a fire roaring in the hearth against the winter chill… "Also, I'm going to need to put down a chicken coop. It won't be a permanent addition."

No, if this month went well, they would not be living this close to Trost. The nearest lake was Lake Bovally, about six kilometers northeast of Yarkle. He didn't know if there were any homes for sale there, but if there weren't, he could always buy a plot of land and build one from the ground up. After all, he was a hero of humanity; who wouldn't sell to him? It couldn't be any harder than building the base outside Wall Maria had been… Outside…

Shutting his eyes tight, he cleared his mind, opening them to follow the landlord back to their carriage. He'd send the lease in the mail, and as soon as Erwin signed it, he'd head to Calaneth to help Thomasin pack- no, he should probably think about furnishing the place first; after all, what kind of sorry husband would expect his wife to move into a house with no bed? And maybe see about building that coop before he got any ideas in his head about building an entire house…

~o0o~

Thomasin was not as excited about his initiative as he'd assumed she'd be. There were many irons in the fire at the moment, but it would take time for them to be ready, so Erwin took advantage of the lull in his schedule to ride over to Calaneth. To his surprise, she wasn't at home but at the Garrison hospital. The nurses and doctors and soldiers he passed openly stared just as they had before. He ignored them easily, but this time, Thomasin seemed uncomfortable by the quiet voices talking to one another behind their hands.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a strained whisper, staring at his shoulder.

"I came to talk to you. Why are you here? Why are you in uniform?" She fixed him with a disbelieving stare.

"I… work here. Don't you also work somewhere? Somewhere that's not here?"

"Everything is under control with the Corps, so I took the day off." She muttered something under her breath, and he could only catch the end of what she'd said.

"-the day I get back to work…" Raising her voice so that she was speaking to him rather than herself, Thomasin said, "It's sweet that you came to visit me, Erwin, really, but I can't talk now. I have rounds." He thought back to all the work she'd put into caring for him while he'd been incapacitated, and tried to imagine that on a tenfold scale. Reaching out, he grabbed her elbow before she could get too far away.

"You shouldn't be working now, Thomasin." She laughed bitterly.

"Yes, I absolutely should. It was to my extreme relief that I came back to Calaneth to find I still had a place to live and a source of income, and I'd kind of like to keep it that way." She tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm.

"That's what I came here to tell you. I've rented a house for us on the outskirts of Trost." Her jaw went slack, and if her eyes widened any more, they would be in serious risk of falling out of her skull.

"You did what?"

"The lease is signed, it's… mostly furnished- there's a bed and table, at least. More things are coming; chairs and the like, and Mr. Zacharias seemed grateful for the patronage… Anyway, my things are packed and as soon as we pack yours, we can move in immediately."

Erwin had honestly been incredibly proud of himself for putting all this together on such short notice. Really, he was a fool for not doing it sooner. Last year, when he'd foolishly thought to propose, he'd balked the moment she rightfully pointed out that he wasn't willing to actually put in any of the work required for a relationship. If, instead of returning to base to wallow in self pity, he'd slapped some sense into himself and at least attempted to take that first step, she might have been willing to give him a chance back then. At least, he assumed as much- it was kind of hard to gauge her feelings when her expression hadn't changed yet.

"You want me to move to Trost?"

"Just for a month," he reminded her, and she blinked hard, incredulity snapping her from her shock.

"That's even worse! Erwin, what about my job!? I've already taken so much time off."

"I'm here now- I'll speak to Captain Hyles and make an arrangement. Considering the circumstances, you weren't 'taking time off'- you were performing important duties for the military… more important than kissing the ouchies of Garrison soldiers." He lowered his voice, bending slightly to speak directly into her ear. "And if your captain wants to argue, we can let Premier Zachary weigh in. You might not be a soldier, but he is, and I doubt he'd want to get the Premier involved." Pulling back, he smiled at her, expecting a smile in return. She liked it when he used his position for her benefit… So why didn't she look happy now? Thomasin scratched her arm through her jacket, her nails scraping loudly against the tan denim. Her gaze had dropped from his shoulder to somewhere around his left hip.

"So I just… drop everything and move to Trost…?" Erwin released her arm, his hand going up to cup her cheek.

"It's not 'moving to Trost', Thomasin; it's 'moving in with me'. I'm going to be living with you, off base." He chuckled softly. "I think I might actually be the first commander to do that…" She seemed to shrink, curling up, making herself as small as her voice.

"You didn't even talk to me about this…"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. It's a taste of what's to come after the expedition. You and me, being a proper family." The geniality he'd tried to hold onto finally slipped away completely, his smile along with it. "I thought you'd be happy. I'm trying to be there for you; I'm trying to take care of you, but you won't let me…!" While he made a conscious effort not to raise his voice- they didn't need to garner more stares than they'd attracted already- he couldn't stop his tone from growing harsher. He regretted it immediately, softening his voice, his words, as he further stooped to meet Thomasin at her eye level.

"I'm sorry, that was completely out of line. I have no right getting upset, but I- I'm trying. I'm trying to do better, to prove that you didn't make a mistake in marrying me… I just need you to give me a chance." He could see her jaw moving, chewing on the words her lips were pressed together too tightly to let her speak aloud. For a moment, he considered asking what she wanted to say, but before he could, she opened her mouth, speaking softly.

"…what about my chickens…? I can't leave them in Calaneth that long." His smile returned.

"I've had a coop built. I wanted to do it myself, but, uh… I have trouble with the nails." For the first time since they'd started talking, she met his gaze, her eyes piercing, searching… ultimately, though, the tinniest of smiles cracked through that disconcerted mask she wore.

"I can imagine. …alright, Smith. One month. But if I can't get my job here back afterwards, you're going to find me a new job. Something that pays at least as well."

"The Survey Corps is always looking for-"

"If you finish that sentence, I will rip your jaw off and beat you to death with it."

~o0o~

Four years ago, they'd stood together in that empty house in Calaneth, their last moments together before a bitter parting. As much as they'd tried to ignore it, the air had been tense, miserable. The house they stood in now was bigger, though not exceptionally large. The windows were wider, and they'd already been opened, allowing the late summer breeze to fill the room. Thomasin's wooden leg echoed loudly against the bare floors as she examined the house with a scrutinizing eye, shaking her head every so often.

"I know it's rather desolate," Erwin conceded, "but we can furnish it more later. I've already ordered a couch." Rising from where she'd been bent over, examining the hearth, she looked at him over her shoulder.

"Do you really have that much money that you can waste it on frivolous things like furniture?"

"Yes, but it's not a waste. If you don't like it, I can just move it into my quarters back at base. Maybe I'll get rid of all the chairs in my office and replace them all with couches." She snickered, undoubtedly picturing that already cramped room filled to the brim with overstuffed sofas. Her grin flickered slightly as she made her way back to the bedroom.

"Please don't. You know how I feel about you wasting money."

"It's not a waste." He followed after her, his long stride allowing him to catch up quickly. "I've been working my ass off for fifteen years; if I can't so much as enjoy the money I've earned, what was the point of earning it?" He knew she couldn't argue with him, not when she'd once made a similar argument for herself.

"…you're not really gonna buy a bunch of couches, are you?"

"It might be fun." He laughed as the blood drained from her face.

"Your idea of 'fun' is both sad and mildly disturbing, Smith…" She groaned slightly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Erwin thought that was a bit of an exaggeration, until he realized the sickly tinge her face had taken.

"Thomasin?"

"Oh god… I gotta puke…" With an arm around her shoulders, he quickly led her to the bathroom, much larger than the tiny water closet in her house. She pulled away, barely managing to lift the toilet's lid before she began violently heaving. He winced, knowing exactly how she felt, and pulled her hair back as best he could with one hand. There was so much of it that he couldn't really gather it all, so he used his arm to hold it up and out of the way. Gagging and spitting, Thomasin put the lid down, turning and collapsing onto the now closed seat as she breathed hard.

"Is this 'morning sickness'?" Erwin asked quietly. He didn't know the first thing about pregnancy- it wasn't exactly knowledge that pertained to his life- but he recalled Nile lamenting that Marie's own morning sickness was unusually bad this time around. Thomasin nodded weakly, letting her head fall back against the wall. He knelt in front of her, the tile cold through the thin fabric of his pants, laying his hand over hers and stroking her knuckles. "Is there anything I can do to help?" She nodded again.

"I packed medicine. Can you take it out and put it on the counter, and put some water in the kettle to boil?"

"Which medicine?"

"All of them. Just unpack all of them…"

"Will you be alright by yourself?" She cracked an eyelid.

"…I'm nauseous, Erwin- not dying. I've been dealing with this by myself for over a month, now." She hadn't meant it as an indictment against him, surely not, but it certainly felt like one. Of course, that was probably his own guilt twisting her words into something she did not intend, his own mind cursing him for being too enthralled by the treasures of the old world to remember there was someone waiting on him back at base.

Getting to his feet was quite a bit harder than it had been in the past, sharp twinges in his knees and hip that had been unimaginable in his youth now completely expected (but no less unpleasant). He brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek in a silent parting before heading out to the main room. Thomasin didn't have many belongings, her entire life had been neatly packed into a single trunk similar to those cadets were assigned in the Training Corps, and a few boxes. The boxes were what he was after now- he remembered the faint clinking coming from them as she'd set them in the wagon. Inside the first was about a dozen bottles of varying color, size and shape, each wrapped in an old, worn out rags to keep them from breaking.

She'd said to unpack all of them, so after sticking a few logs into the hearth and lighting them (he'd become exceptionally adept at using a matchbox, he was proud to say), he took to the arduous task of pulling out every bottle, jar and miscellaneous container, and setting them on the counter. While he could have perhaps grabbed two of those with longer necks at a time, he didn't want to run the risk of them knocking together and cracking them- he had no idea how hardy or delicate this glass was.

Erwin liked to believe he was an intelligent man. Anyone who knew him would agree. When looking at the relics from before the Titans, from beyond the Walls, even though he hadn't been able to parse any of the script, he had recognized certain things from his father's books, things his fellow soldiers hadn't even the slightest idea of. Terms like "countries" and "races" and even things like "ocean" had been as foreign to them as the strange letters those ancient books and maps were written in. He'd have been lying if he'd said it hadn't been a considerable boost to ego, to know things, even on a rudimentary level, that others were ignorant of.

He'd also be lying if he didn't admit that, in this moment, he realized exactly how those other soldiers felt. Each of the bottles was labeled, Thomasin's normally atrocious script replaced with the far more legible version he knew from experience took her twice as long to write. He recognized the letters- his mind arranged them into words that he could probably pronounce with a fair degree of accuracy. Those words, however, meant absolutely nothing to him. Camphor. Tansy. Elderberry. Sulfur. He assumed they were distillations of plants, or minerals dissolved in oil or spirits, or things that had been dried and crushed, but the idea of conflating any of these words with medicine was one he couldn't wrap his mind around. The only thing he even vaguely recognized was a jar of power labeled "Willow"- even he knew that willow bark was an ingredient in many minor pain relievers (lord only knows he'd consumed his fair share since joining the military).

Filling the kettle and setting it on the now glowing hot iron plate, he took a step back and stared at the rows of bottles. People die when I make mistakes… She'd said something like that him years ago when he'd- not maliciously- mocked her profession. It just didn't seem like that big of a deal, selling rat poison and tonics to hungover Garrison soldiers… It never occurred to him that Thomasin could know so much he didn't. But then again, she always knew so much more than him about so many more things, things that affected more people than knowledge about what once existed beyond the Walls. The thumping preceded the soft groaning (though not by much), and something firm and heavy pressed between his shoulder blades.

"Is the water hot yet?"

"Almost." He glanced back over his shoulder, at the fluffy dark brown mass behind him. "Is all of this medicine?"

"Some of it's 'medicine'- some of it will be, when I make it."

"Why do you have so much? Starting your own pharmacy?"

"It's better for my own peace of mind to buy ingredients wholesale and mix my own medicine than it is to buy pre-made medicine from someone whose practices I don't know. I don't wanna drink kerosene unless I'm doing it on purpose."

"What's it all for?" Turning her head so her voice was no longer muffled by his shirt, Thomasin's arms came up to wrap around his waist.

"Everything. Better to be safe than sorry." Nudging him forward, she reached out, grabbing a bottle labeled "Soothing Syrup"- whatever that meant-and gave it a slight shake, its contents sloshing quietly. It didn't sound as full as the others. "This one specifically is the panacea that makes everything better."

"You could have told me that- I could have brought it to you." She shook her head- he felt the movement against his spine.

"Everything but nausea, unfortunately," she sighed. With her other arm still around him, she moved to stand beside him, staring at the rows of bottles. "Maybe I'll teach you how to make a few simple tonics one day. It never hurts to know some remedies."

~o0o~

Laying together that night felt almost the same as it had that first fateful night. There was thankfully no weeping involved this time, but as they lay, skin pressed to (mostly) bare skin, there were no lustful touches or moans either. Erwin ran his fingers over Thomasin's hair, which had been pulled into a thick braid. The angle of his hand meant the motion hurt his wrist, but he chose to continue. Despite the day being uneventful, peaceful even, she'd carried a stiffness that continued even as she laid down. He'd scooted closer to her, pulling her closer to his body so her head could rest on his shoulder, softly stroking in spite of how awkward and stiff his still healing fingers felt. There was a long moment of silence, overlaid by the low drone of crickets outside the open window, and when she spoke, there was a certain stiffness in her voice as well.

"What are you going to be doing tomorrow?" Later today was more accurate- Erwin couldn't pinpoint the exact time, but he was certain it was past midnight.

"The factory out east is working on the prototype of our newest anti-Armored weapon. Hange is supposed to be overseeing that, but right now, they're working on another weapon with Eren, and I'd rather that take precedence, so I'll be going to the factory in their stead. They're also developing a modified set of ODM gear for me, so I can hopefully be fitted for the last time before they move to fabrication while I'm out there." The hand on his chest stiffened, her short, uneven nails cutting slightly into the skin there.

"I don't see any 'modifications' changing the way a Titan's anatomy works, unless they're going to be giving you a giant pair of gas-powered scissors?" Her voice, low and quiet though it was, was barely a step removed from a sneer which Erwin deliberately ignored, his own tone even.

"Actually, I'm not going to have any weapons at all. This new model is based on the original ODM gear, which was designed to be operated with one hand." He had seen the blueprints; a soldier would have been expected to hold a sword in the other hand, the inefficient steel sabers the Corps used long before the discovery of iron bamboo. Given that he had no other hand, he would be free to focus on mobility alone.

"No weapon?" Thomasin lifted her head, shifting to stare down at him. The curtains were drawn, but enough light from the waning moon filtered in from him to see the vague outline of her shape. "So you're just going to be a sitting duck?" He reached up, pressing on her shoulder to bring her back down.

"I'm going to be a flying duck. If- and that is a very low chance 'if'- we happen to run into a scenario where we are forced into combat against a Titan, my primary objective is to get, and stay, as far away from the combat as possible."

He'd already had this discussion with Levi, with Hange, with their newly appointed section commanders… with Levi again. The Survey Corps was vehement that they did not expect, nor did they want, their commander on the front lines with them anymore. Levi was of the opinion that Erwin shouldn't even be in the field, that he should take a page from the commanders of the other branches, but those opinions were dually noted and tossed in the trash.

"…do you have to go with them? If it's really such a simple mission and you're not going to be fighting anyway, can't you just… stay behind?" It was harder to brush off those foolish words when they came from so close to his ear, their tone so quiet, so filled with emotions, none of them positive. Erwin closed his eyes, sighing heavily, as quietly as he could.

"No, Thomasin. I have to go. The mission is straightforward, but even with the simplest of undertakings, things can- and almost always do- go awry. No matter how much we plan beforehand, unexpected problems are always to be expected, and it is my duty above all else to come up with solutions to these problems. How can I help my soldiers if I'm a district away?"

"How can you help them if you die?"

"I have no intention of dying."

"You can't even fight."

"I don't need to. I'm going to be avoiding the Titans."

"Can you even do that?" she whispered. "I know you used your ODM gear after you first lost your arm, but that's easy. It's easy to do things in the spur of the moment when your only option is do or die. Can you actually, consistently, use ODM gear?" He remained silent. The truth was, he didn't have an answer. Not yet, at any rate.

"I'm going to," he told her finally. "We have just over two weeks, and every moment I'm not doing something else, I'll be practicing vertical maneuvering." It was more than a bit humiliating to think of, that he'd be going back to exercises the new recruits were years beyond, but he'd been able to teach himself how to navigate the rest of his life with one arm and had full confidence that this particular skill would be no different. He already had nearly two decades of experience to draw upon, but as he should have expected, Thomasin didn't view the situation nearly as favorably.

"It's not that easy, Erwin… It's not even about going back to square one; you're worse off than that. You don't have the resilience and reflexes you did when you were a cadet. If you fuck up now, you aren't going to bounce back from that so easily. You're putting so much on the line, and for what? Because deep down, you think Levi and Hange are incompetent idiots who can't wipe their asses without your express directions?"

"I have never had anything but the utmost faith and confidence in them," he told her sharply.

"Then why can't you leave them in charge for this mission?"

"Because I have to be there!" His heart beat so hard, so fast, he could feel it in his throat. He was supposed to be sleeping- he needed to be up even earlier than usual to get back to base in time to begin his usual duties.

"Why?" It wasn't exactly classified information; Dr. Yaeger's basement containing secrets had been "leaked" to those outside the Survey Corps since the 104th graduated.

"There's something there… Grisha Yaeger… He knew about the Titans, the royal family… he left something in his basement that might give us the answers we need."

"And those answers are worth risking your life for?"

"They always have been."

"Even now?" His answer caught in his throat, and he could feel her shaking her head where it rested on his shoulder. "Of course. Nothing's changed. Not a goddamn thing…"

"Things have changed, Thomasin." He couldn't shift as much as he wanted to, but he managed to roll slightly onto his side to better face her. His eyes, long accustomed to the dark, could just make out the faint outline of her profile. "All my life, I've been convinced that nothing short of seeing humanity beyond the Walls with my own two eyes would be worth it. That if I don't track down some remnant of civilization and see it in person, it may as well not exist. But now? I just want proof. That's all I want. And that proof may be as close as Shiganshina." He traced the curve of her cheek with the tips of his fingers. They weren't bandaged as thickly as they had been even a week prior, and he could at least feel the warmth through the linen strips.

"I'm not going away. I'm not leaving you behind. I'm not even going beyond Wall Maria. I am content to live the rest of my life within these Walls if it means I can live it with you, but I need that proof first." This time, Thomasin remained silent, her body stiff as a board, staring straight up at the ceiling, or maybe her eyes were tightly shut. He couldn't see in the dark. "You don't believe me." It wasn't a question. "Have I ever lied to you?"

"To me? No… that's why I don't believe you. You've always made your priorities clear."

"And I intend to make them clear now as well. You gave me a month, remember? I still have a little over half a month to prove my intentions." If it were anyone else, he didn't think there'd be an issue in getting them to believe the sky was green in a week, but the problem was if it were anyone else, he'd be starting from a blank slate. There was no one else alive with whom he had so firmly cemented his thoughts and beliefs. But there was no one else alive whom he loved so much that he was willing to compromise those beliefs, no one else he was willing to settle for just to make them happy. She wasn't blind; she would understand that.

000

The original prototype of the Omni-Directional Mobility gear had been most notable in the massive motor chassis worn on the back like a knapsack. It was so heavy that simple traversal burned through fuel faster than advanced maneuvers with modern gear. One of the first major design changes had come in the form of making it smaller, more compact and fuel efficient, and moving it down to the hips. For decades, that had been the standard, but it had been reworked again in secret, deep in the heart of the Interior. The entire rig was moved to the back, aiming no longer a coordinated dance between eyes and hands and hips but resting solely in the hands now. It came with its drawbacks, to be sure, but if Levi himself was claiming that he had to work to outmaneuver ordinary humans, clearly they were doing something right.

Of course, the new design had the same limitation as the old; each side required the operation of triggers on that side. And for a soldier lacking the ability to hold anything in their right hand, that provided a problem. The entire ride back to base, Erwin's fingers moved without rest on the test handle he had been given to acclimatize himself with these new controls. Even without a blade- indeed, without even the clip plug for one to be inserted- it weighed nearly half again as much as a standard ODM handle. The casing was wider, to accommodate the added gears and pins. The secondary trigger was no longer used to detach the anchor, but fire out the right anchor; there were additional latches that had to be released to detach either anchor.

The gear itself was all but complete- all that needed to be done was a final check to ensure the hoses were all sealed and supplying fuel and air to where they needed to go. The greatest hurdle was not gear that would accommodate him, but unlearning eighteen years of muscle memory before the month was out. Every conscious thought as he squeezed trigger and thumbed switches needed to be as instinctive as breathing. His bandages were supposed to come off next week, but he worried these movements that needed to be effortless and concise would still feel awkward and clunky with his left hand.

He'd never had this problem when he'd had both hands, probably because barring those first few months in the Training Corps, he never had to think about what his hands were doing. If anything, his left hand had simply been an auxiliary to his right; after all, whenever he aimed his wires, chances were he was aiming from the right side. Now, his success or failure rested entirely in the palm it still felt awkward to feed himself with. At least, that was the narrative he'd fed the engineers in the factory. The truth was much more troublesome, and as Erwin headed to the rear courtyard behind the stables, a nervous vice clenched his insides painfully. It had been eighteen years since he'd seen a balance rig up close. The last time he'd stood in front of one like this, he'd been all jittery, filled to the brim with eager anticipation. His first step towards proving his father right would, ironically, come when his feet left the ground. There had been no doubt in his mind that he would succeed, and indeed, his form had been flawless.

But now, just staring up at the massive tripod, he felt off-center. With every step he took closer, the empty space where his right arm should have been became more and more noticeable. Dirk looked up from driving in one of the stakes beside the massive wooden leg and offered up a hasty salute which was quickly waved off.

"You're just in time, Commander. We're just about finished setting up here."

"Has Hange returned?"

"Not yet, sir. I assume that means the Executioner was a success; they're probably loitering on the Wall, watching their handiwork."

Titan Guillotine was the official moniker of the largest weapon in their arsenal, but Hange, rarely content with simplicity, almost exclusively referred to it as "The Executioner From Hell". It had taken taken several days of Eren hardening in multiple positions to hold the necessary cables, pulleys and winches. Several days of alternating groups consisting of veterans and new recruits heading outside Wall Rose to kill any Titans that came too close; the closest thing they had to a safe way of preparing their transfers for combat that still resulted in several injuries. Nothing life threatening, at least. A small price to pay for a way to minimize their chance of encountering Titans on the day of the actual mission.

Hange's absence was a good thing in this context, and yet, Erwin still selfishly wished they were back on base. If anyone was going to laugh at him, he'd at least prefer it to be a friend. But he didn't have time to wait- a month seemed like plenty of time, but every second was crucial. Marlene handed him the training belt, but did not relinquish her hold on it immediately.

"Do you need help putting it on, Commander? We don't need you getting hurt because a buckle wasn't fastened securely." His initial instinct was to say no, to insist he could put a belt on by himself, but his new section commander was right. These were no simple clothes where a missed button was nothing more than a source of irritation; the slightest issue with ODM equipment would result in broken bones on the best of days. Erwin nodded heavily.

"I think it best I leave this to someone else." Dirk put the belt around his waist, and both section commanders clipped the hooks to his sides. Even though the wires and hooks weighed less than ODM gear, it had been so long since he'd worn anything that even that slight weight felt foreign to him.

"Ready, Commander?" Dirk asked as he put both hands on the crank. He wasn't. Everything felt wrong- he'd never vertically maneuvered in his life, what was he doing? He nodded again.

As the winch began to crank, the slack cables pulling taut, Erwin forced himself to relax, to stop thinking. His mind was trying to sabotage him. As long as he didn't think and let his body move the way it needed, he would be fine. And as his feet first left the ground, everything seemed to be going perfectly. Hanging "motionlessly" in truth required many tiny, constant adjustments, dozens of muscles and tendons flexing at any given time, ensuring his body remained centered. The slightest shift could throw a soldier out of alignment… and did.

Erwin felt himself leaning a bit too much to the back, to the left, and instinctively moved his right arm to shift his weight… and when his weight didn't shift enough and his eyes flew open as he remembered it never would again, his desperate attempt to over correct his position resulted in the hooks twisting. It happened so fast, and yet everything had slowed so much that it was impossible for him to not catch himself. He threw his arms out- he felt his arm reach out, but there was no hand to absorb the impact and the right side of his face smashed into the stone.

"Oh god, Commander!" He could barely hear the boots scuffing on the ground over his own pained groans. His section commanders thankfully didn't just let his legs drop to the ground as they unhooked his belt, lowering him slowly. As soon as his hips were no longer suspended, Erwin rolled onto his back, staring up at the tripod as he gingerly touched his face. It felt hot, dust and grit clinging to his skin, and when he pulled his hand back, his fingers were damp and red. Sighing, he let his hand drop.

"Alright… time for round two."

"Maybe you should take a break, Commander," Marlene suggested, a wince still lining her forehead. "That was a nasty fall."

"Am I bleeding from the ears?"

"I don't think so?"

"Then I'm fine."

Sitting up, he rubbed his stump. While it did nothing to cushion the impact, it did manage to hit the ground hard enough to send a surge of agony all the way up his arm. The pain was indescribable, in that he literally couldn't think of how to describe it other than simultaneously striking several different, unconnected parts of his arm all at once. As he climbed back to his feet, brushing the dust from his hair, he wondered if Thomasin did the same thing, tried to step on the leg she could still feel that was no longer there. But then again, even if she did, she wore her prosthesis often enough that she probably didn't fall down as a result.

Not for the first time, he wondered if such a thing might not be beneficial for him, if having something there, even something useless and disconnected from his actual body, would restore some semblance of his old self. He flexed the fingers on his left hand as Dirk reattached the cables to his waist, closing his eyes and flexing the fingers on his right hand as well. No… he could manage without deadweight dragging him down. He could change his plans on the fly- he could adapt.

000000000

Erwin swore as he dropped his keys. Every night grew darker- their trek to Shiganshina would take place on the first night of the new moon, the safest way to mitigate their chances of running into this new breed of nocturnal Titan, but a pain in the ass for actually seeing anything. Maybe it would be prudent to buy a glowstone lantern and mount it just beside the door. 'Or maybe you could try coming home at a reasonable hour…' Shaking the dirt off his keys, he finally managed to unlock the door, wincing slightly as it creaked loudly. The landlord said he'd fix the hinge, but Thomasin quickly informed Erwin that was never going to happen. Broken doors, leaking roofs, rotting floorboards- either you fixed those things yourself, or you prepared for your rent to be increased. From her tone, he gathered that she was speaking from experience. Well, it was nothing he couldn't fix.

Slipping inside, his eyes alighted on the couch that had been pushed just shy of the center of the room; it must have been delivered today. Thomasin had slumped so far forward it was a wonder she hadn't fallen onto the floor. A pair of crutches leaned against the armrest. Erwin stopped in front of her, the ghost of his right hand clenching in frustration. He used to be able to lift and carry her so easily, and now… Maybe it would have been kinder to just let her sleep, but that position looked so uncomfortable. Bending slightly, he gently shook her awake.

"Thomasin. You need to go to bed." It didn't take much to rouse her, his efforts earning a frustrated groan as she stretched, blinking blearily up at him.

"Erwin…? What time is it…?"

"Two. In the morning." Another groan as she slouched back against the cushions, the ghost of a pout pursing her lips.

"I thought you'd be back sooner… I don't even remember falling asleep."

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't expect to be gone so long." She grabbed her crutches, her movement lethargic, and he stepped back to give her enough space to pull herself up.

"Well… you're here now. That's something… unless you're not and this is just a dream." With a sad smile, he reached out, cupping her cheek.

"I'm real." Thomasin shook her head, turning away from him and hopping back towards the bedroom.

"No, you feel real in my dreams, too…" As he watched her silhouette retreat further into the darkness, he wondered how many times he'd appeared before her, only for her to awaken and realize he'd never been there. Pushing that tar-thick guilt down as far into his gut as he could, Erwin followed her, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. Thomasin had already climbed into bed by the time he reached the far room, curled up on the right side. He laid beside her, rolling onto his side to drape his arm over her, some of the tightness in his chest easing slightly as she shifted to press herself into the curve of his body. Pressing his nose against her hair, he inhaled deeply. He hadn't realized how badly he'd missed that sweet, floral scent until this very moment.

"Erwin?" Thomasin's voice was a breath, barely that, just enough to keep him on the edge of waking.

"Hmm?"

"…do you really love me?" Her words, still soft, still quiet, were like a hook violently wrenching him away from sleep.

"Are you asking me that because I was late?"

"No." Even she didn't sound entirely convinced. "I just… wonder sometimes. I wonder if… you love me, or if you love having someone love you-" Her voice dropped so low that, had he not been mere centimeters from her lips, he would not have heard what followed, "-like your father did…" He tried to lift himself without thinking, falling back to the pillow immediately as pain radiated up his already bruised stump, the cut bone digging into the muscle cushioning it when he foolishly tried to put his weight on it.

"Are you implying that I view you as some kind of surrogate for my father?"

"No- I just-"

"That's disgusting. How could you say such a thing?"

"I didn't!"

"To even insinuate-"

"I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry! Forget I said anything!" Thomasin curled up tighter, shifting closer to the edge of the bed. Further from him. As his pulse returned to normal, the guilt began to simmer once more. Sighing quietly, Erwin reached out, draping his arm over her, pulling her closer. There was a moment of resistance, reluctance, but it soon gave way and she once again molded to the contours of his body. Or perhaps he molded to the contours of hers.

"I love you, Thomasin," he whispered against her hair. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, ever. More than I thought I was capable of loving someone. The only person I can say I cherished even nearly as much as you was my father… but that's not the same, not at all."

"I know," she relented in a small voice. He considered his words carefully before speaking them aloud.

"I admit, I do compare you to him sometimes… but that's only because the things I admired and respected about him are the same things I admire and respect about you. Your intelligence. Your strength, your compassion… your willingness to put up with me instead of leaving me in the woods to starve…" She snorted back a laugh and he smiled, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. "I do love the fact that you love me," he murmured, sleep once again caressing the edges of his mind. "The fact that you think I'm deserving of your love…"

"…you deserve so much more than my love… I wish I could give you everything that would make you happy…" He barely heard her- it was impossible to tell if she'd actually spoke, or if he was already dreaming.

~o0o~

His eyes opened on instinct. The curtains were drawn, but were thin enough that he could see it was still dark out. They'd shifted during the night, him sprawling out onto his back as Thomasin rolled onto her other side, her arm carelessly slung over his chest. She'd ended up using his shoulder as a pillow, and while the weight would have made his arm fall asleep even in the past, the pins and needles in the remaining muscles were beginning to evolve into a full blown cramp.

As carefully as he could, he pulled away from her, gritting his teeth as the tingling in his stump grew worse with every little movement. He had to get up. He had to get dressed and head back into the district, back to base- the trip alone would take the better part of an hour… It was little wonder soldiers rarely lived off base. Erwin tried to slip out from under Thomasin's arm as slowly as he could, trying his damnedest not to wake her, but the bed creaked with every little movement, and her eyes slowly opened, squinting against the darkness.

"Erwin…?" Well, no point in being careful now.

"I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep." Sitting up fully, he took a moment to stretch, the vertebrae in his neck cracking loudly, before moving the blankets aside and standing. Thomasin rolled over onto the spot he'd just vacated, pulling the comforter tighter around herself. It honestly wasn't that cold- autumn was still several weeks away.

"What date is it?" Her words were still slurred with sleep, and Erwin smiled as he grabbed his uniform.

"It's Wednesday."

"Not day- date." He paused to think.

"It's the twelfth."

"…and when's your expedition…?"

"The thirtieth. It's not for two more weeks." He'd hoped realizing just how far away their mission was would reassure her, but the body beneath the covers simply curled into a tight little ball. Forgoing the rest of his buttons, Erwin knelt on the bed, pulling the covers down just enough that he could actually see her face, see the tight line of her jaw, the furrows wrinkling her brow. "We're just going down to Shiganshina. Don't you remember how many times I went down to Shiganshina to visit you?" She ducked her head further into the covers. "We're not fighting Titans. We're not setting up any bases. Eren is going to seal up the holes in the gates, and we're going to Dr. Yaeger's house, and then we're coming right back. We'll be back the same day- the next morning at the latest. You have nothing to worry about, my darling."

"What about the Armored and Colossal Titans?" her voice was partially muffled by the pillow. "Aren't they still running around?"

"That's what our new weapons are for," he explained gently. "We're not hunting them, we're not seeking them out, but if they're stupid enough to show up, we will kill them… and then we'll never have to worry about them again."

She wasn't convinced. And truthfully, he didn't think it was possible to convince her. Thomasin had formed the worst possible scenario in her mind and was focused on that to the exclusion of all else. Honestly, Erwin had never related to anything more; that was often the trajectory his own mind took when things started spiraling on missions. But not this mission. Everything would be fine- he would make everything fine. They were going to find proof. His father would finally be vindicated. And he could finally feel like he'd done something with his life. Bending over her, he pressed a kiss to the sliver of cheek he could see between her hair and the blankets.

"I'll try to be back sooner tonight. I love you." It wasn't until he'd straightened and resumed dressing that he heard her response, quiet and muffled.

"I love you, too…"

000000000

It seemed like no matter how much he rushed, no matter how hard he worked, he could never step over that threshold before the clock rolled over past midnight. For the first four or five days, the moment his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he'd notice Thomasin dozing off on the couch, sometimes with a book or (thankfully empty) teacup clutched precariously in her hands. The squealing hinge usually woke her before he could, and his apologies were always waved off.

Every morning for those few days, no matter how careful, how quiet he was, she would inevitably wake with the same mumbled question; "What date is it?", keeping track of the days until their mission. In his mind, Erwin liked to believe she was keeping track of the days until he stopped waking her so rudely in the middle of the night, but he knew that wasn't the case. Towards the end of that first week, the couch became conspicuously empty. She would already be in bed, sleeping so deeply that she didn't even shift as the bed dipped under his weight, her breathing heavy and even when he cuddled closer to her. Perhaps the lack of sleep was catching up to her- there were times when all of his shuffling and rustling in the morning didn't earn so much as the twitch of an eyelid.

Those were the times when he would bend over her once he was dressed, his lips poised over her cheek, and he would notice how dark the circles under her eyes were, or the faint lines furrowing her brow. She was such a light sleeper and that sleep didn't seem very restful, so he would straighten rather than run the risk of waking her, painfully aware of how heavy his steps were, wincing as the door creaked louder than ever when he tried to open it slowly. He really needed to fix that damn hinge. He was going to- he'd even brought the oil home, but it had been too dark to see and he needed to wake up early the next day to ensure Hange didn't get any itchy fingers when their new weapons arrived. That was why he'd found it strange that the other side of the bed was not only empty, but cool to the touch when he did wake up.

It couldn't be that late- the morning sky was still misty and gray, yet Thomasin must have gotten up long before him. Maybe she was feeding the chickens; she'd mentioned that they were molting and she was trying to spend more time with them. She even suggested bringing them indoors until they settled in. As far as Erwin was concerned, the idea of treating poultry as pets was as nonsensical as the idea of doing the same with Titans, but he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to anger his wife or his Section Commander. Entering the bathroom, his heart dropped as he rushed over to the figure lying prone beside the toilet.

"Thomasin?!" There was vomit, in the toilet and on the tiles beside her, soaking into the sleeve of her dressing robe. One of her crutches had fallen from where it leaned with the other against the sink. The bathroom door was the only one that didn't creak, but how deeply must he have been sleeping to not hear a heavy piece of wood hit the floor, to say nothing of a body? His fingers were shaking so badly that he had to press them harder than he should have against the underside of her jaw just to distinguish her pulse from his trembling. She groaned softly, trying to turn her head away from the pressure, and his whole body sagged in relief.

"Thomasin, can you hear me? Can you answer me?" She groaned again, her arms moving weakly as she tried to sit up. Moving her away from the puddle of sick as best he could with one arm, Erwin rolled her onto her back. "Stop moving; stay where you are. You're supposed to stay still."

"My head hurts…" Taking his attention away from the pile of towels he was building up under her leg, he pushed the loose pieces of hair behind her ears only to have them pop back out, wincing as he noticed the goose egg swelling on her forehead.

"It looks like you hit it pretty hard." Thankfully it wasn't bleeding this time.

"What happened?" Sighing heavily, Thomasin closed her eyes.

"I started feeling sick. I ran in here to throw up and started getting lightheaded…" She inhaled deeply. "What time is it?" Nothing she was saying made any sense; he could only assume she was still out of it, but was too nonplussed to do anything but answer.

"I-I don't know; probably close to seven?" Maybe she needed to know how long she had been unconscious, or maybe this was some kind of medical technique to help people with head injuries, or-

"You need to get ready," she muttered, eyes still closed, "you're going to be late for work." Erwin gaped at her, horrified and offended all at once.

"Are you insane?! I'm not going to work now; you just fainted!"

"I'll be fine in a few minutes. Just roll me over onto my side in case I throw up again." This was a joke. It had to be. She wasn't laughing or smiling, there was nothing amused in her tone, but all of this had to be a joke that he was the butt of.

"Stop being stupid, Thomasin, and tell me what I'm supposed to do. I know your feet need to be elevated above your head-"

"Heart."

"-but I don't know for how long. Am I supposed to move you? Are you supposed to be on your back- Nile said pregnant women aren't supposed to lie on their backs, but unconscious people are, so what takes priority-?"

"Erwin." Her voice, calm but firm, almost hard, cut through his panic like a knife. Her eyes were open, and while the haze of unwellness still clouded their depth, it was clear that she was very much conscious and speaking with intent. "I'm fine. Just go to work." She well and truly expected him to just leave as though nothing had happened. Lips pressed into a hard line, Erwin shifted so that he could sit somewhat comfortably on the cold tiles.

"What I'm going to do is stay here until you can convince me that you're not going to keel over as soon as I look away, then I'm going to take you back to bed, and then I'm going into Trost for the sole purpose of getting you a doctor." Thomasin scoffed.

"I don't need a doctor. What's he going to do; tell me I have too much bile?"

"Maybe you do!"

"Erwin, the only thing that's wrong with me is the seed you planted in my womanly dirt. Pregnant women faint all the time."

"First of all… gross; why did you have to word it like that? More importantly, that's not a good thing! That's directly parallel to me saying 'don't worry; Scouts die all the time!' "

"Oh?" Slowly, the color was coming back to her face as her voice grew stronger. "Are you saying you don't like this bad thing that happens to other people that can also happen to me at any moment? Do you perhaps wish that I would take steps to mitigate this bad thing happening because the thought of it happening upsets you?" He hadn't even realized the trap he'd set until she sprung it on him.

"Thomasin-"

"I'm going to the kitchen." Struggling and shrugging off his hand, she pushed herself into a sitting position, breathing hard and swaying slightly, fueled purely by frustration if her expression was anything to go by.

"You can barely sit upright-"

"No no, don't worry, Erwin; I'm just going down to the kitchen. Don't you remember how many times I went down to the kitchen?" He frowned at her, shaking his head in disappointed disbelief.

"This is a false equivalency and you know it."

"No, I'd say it's a pretty apt comparison and you just don't want to admit that you're in the wrong." She grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand, maybe to help herself remain upright, maybe to bring him closer so he could see the annoyance in her eyes. "You're in the wrong, Erwin, and you know it, but you would rather die than acknowledge that."

"Because I'm not in the wrong."

"So there is no issue with you going to Shiganshina?"

"None whatsoever." Her nostrils flared.

"Then there's no issue with me going to the kitchen." She moved her right leg under herself, and would have tried to rise had Erwin not held her down.

"You would risk harming yourself, and our child, just to spite me?" She paused for a moment, turning to face him. The bathroom was still rather dark in the early morning, but even if the sun were beaming down brightly on her, he imagined her eyes would remain as dark and cold as they appeared now.

"Erwin, in this moment, I would end all life as we know it to spite you. You did this to me, and you aren't taking responsibility for it."

"I'm trying to, but you won't let me!" No, surely that was the problem. He was waiting on her to tell him what to do instead of him just doing it. A few quick mental calculations and he was on one knee, bending double until his shoulder was pressed into the soft spot just beneath Thomasin's rib cage.

"Erwin? What are you- OW!" Normally when he lifted her like this, he not only had access to both arms for more stability, but threw her over his right shoulder. Despite all the strength training he had done to recondition his body for vertical maneuvering, just standing with this extra weight was enough to send the blood rushing from his head. "Put me down!"

"You hit your head and now you're talking nonsense. Clearly you are unwell."

"I loathe you!"

"That's a concussion talking." It had to be. So many people had so many reasons to hate him, but not her. Surely not her; he tried so hard to do right by her, and obviously he failed, but he still tried. She knew that. She understood that. She had to.

Dropping her back onto the bed as gently as he could, Erwin sat beside her for a moment, trying to catch his breath. It was hard to overestimate just how much he relied on his right side for the most basic of tasks until he was forced to switch to the left. Once his pulse returned to a somewhat normal pattern, he stood, pulling the covers over her leg.

"I'm going to bring a doctor to look you over. Do not move- I will use Hange's Titan restraining gear on you if need be." She spared him all of half a glance before settling down, pulling the blankets high enough that they covered most of her face. Offering up a short prayer that this mania-fueled bout of spite would wane when the person she was upset at wasn't around to witness her actions, Erwin dressed as quickly as he could, not bothering with his uniform, just putting on the first clothes his hand touched and dashing out the door.

~o0o~

It had taken well over an hour to get into the district, find the only doctor who both hadn't fled when the Titans came and was available for house calls, and return to their shared home. Unlocking the door, Erwin all but ran to the back room, sagging against the doorway as he noticed the lump of covers slowly rising and falling exactly where he'd left her.

"This way, doctor. I was afraid she-" 'What, jumped out the window to show me what for…?' "-might have fallen out of bed." The doctor, a stout man in his early fifties, frowned slightly at those words.

"If that was such a worrying possibility, you shouldn't have left her alone, Commander." He winced internally.

"I know, but she was behaving oddly, and I worried that if I continued waiting, she might get worse." The doctor sighed.

"That's understandable. Expectant fathers are wont to panic, and I suppose jumping into action is a necessary reflex in your line of work." He approached the bed, setting his leather satchel on the bedside table, laying a hand on the mound of covers and shaking gently. "Mrs. Smith? Can you hear me?" A grumble of discontent and a hand rose to bat away the disturbance.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Dr. Gerson. Your husband came to me; he said you had a bit of a fainting spell and took a nasty tumble." The covers shifted and Thomasin sat up, her eyebrows shooting up as she spotted Erwin in the doorway.

"You actually came back?" He almost didn't hear the genuine surprise behind her incredulity. He almost wished he hadn't.

"Of course I did. You can't actually think I'd just leave you at a time like this?" She remained silent, looking down at her lap, and that was all the answer he needed. Reaching into his bag, the doctor took out several instruments.

"I need to check your blood pressure, Mrs. Smith. If you could take your robe off?" Once she slipped it off, the doctor attempted to roll up the sleeve of her nightgown, but was stopped by a dark hand closing around his wrist.

"It's thin," she told him. "You can get an accurate reading just fine through it."

"I'd get a clearer reading with bare skin-"

"Then you need better equipment. I've taken readings through bandages and shirt sleeves plenty of times." This piqued the older man's interest, and he tilted his head.

"A fellow physician?"

"A nurse and apothecary."

"A general practitioner, then. So you should know better than most that as clear a reading as possible is always preferable." From the way she ground her teeth, she clearly did, but even after releasing the doctor's hand, Thomasin simply pulled the hem of her sleeve further down.

"No. I'll do it myself if you can't."

"Thomasin, for the love of god, he's trying to help you."

"Commander, would you mind stepping out the room for a moment?" It was Erwin's turn to grow defensive.

"Why?"

"I think Mrs. Smith would feel more comfortable with a bit of privacy."

"She's my wife."

"I'm well aware of that fact, but being in the military, you've had physical examinations performed. Surely there have been aspects of them you wouldn't have appreciated having an audience for, even if said audience was your better half?" He was right and Erwin knew it, but it still put him on edge to be asked to leave his own bedroom. Of course, he immediately chided himself; his pride was not what mattered in this situation.

"Very well. I'll be in the main room, Thomasin."

Feeling utterly useless, he piled a few logs over kindling in the oven and lit them, observing the flame until it caught. He could only assume Dr. Gerson believed Thomasin's apparent modesty was due to him, that she was somehow shy around a man she had obviously been intimate with. It was a ridiculous thought, and yet, there was a grain of truth in it.

Thomasin was far from modest, and yet, despite all their years together both as friends and lovers, he couldn't think of a single time he'd ever seen her in anything that revealed more than her hands. It was considered poor taste to show an excess of skin- a sign of loose morals and promiscuity- and he was certain there were groups of people who would feel even intercourse was not an excuse to expose oneself… but Thomasin wasn't one of those people. She had no issue baring her legs to him. A birthmark, she'd said, a part of her she thought was so ugly that she'd put the withered remnant of her leg on display before it. The stove had grown hot enough that the water clinging to the bottom of the kettle popped and spat as he set it on the burner.

…the thunder spears were probably still en route. Hange was probably setting up a demonstration area, or maybe working with Moblit to draw up some simplified schematics, as though anyone but the two of them would have any understanding of how the internal mechanics worked. Hell, most soldiers barely understood how ODM gear functioned beyond "wires go brrr". Erwin had a slightly better grasp on the fundamentals of gas propulsion than that, but even if he wouldn't be using them himself, he still wanted to see these new weapons in action at least once before the mission. All he knew about them for now was that they were incredibly loud, and incredibly dangerous- a failed early prototype resulted in two causalities at the eastern factory.

Pulling down two cups and the box of tea leaves (and double checking to make sure they were tea leaves and not one of Thomasin's medicines), Erwin covered the bottom of each cup with a few piled spoons. He still needed to contract a new farrier; the man who'd shoed their horses for the last decade packed up and left the Trost area after the attack, taking his business with him. One of the 104th, Sasha Braus, stated that her village was one of those contracted by the government to breed horses for the Survey Corps, so there were probably one or two farriers amongst their number. Dauper was somewhere west of Trost, so hopefully he could swing by there on his way to Roddel in the north. It was far more likely now than before that the medical university would be willing to partner with them.

The closer their expedition came, the more public opinion swayed in their favor; more than once, Erwin had been stopped on the street by people either wishing him luck or preemptively thanking him for reclaiming Wall Maria. As unsettling as it could be, for the most part he managed to return their thanks with a salute and guarantee that he would, of course, dedicate his heart to this mission, but within the borders of Trost, he usually just acknowledged their words with a nod and continued on his way.

He definitely recognized one or two now smiling faces as ones that, only a month ago, had been twisted in disdain as he was led away on a blatantly false murder charge, and even if he didn't recognize most others, they'd probably chomped at the bit to believe him guilty, too. These people, these craven weather vanes passing as human, were the ignorant swine he'd once been so repulsed by in his youth. The only genuine smile in Trost outside the Survey Corps headquarters had come from Mike's uncle when he'd visited his shop to purchase new furniture, and the only reason Erwin believed it genuine was because the curving of his lips had done nothing to mask the pain in his eyes…

"One of these days, yer gonna kill every one of those Titan bastards, Commander. Once their stench is finally gone from the world, I bet Michaelis' soul will rest a lot easier…"

Yes. He had a debt to pay to his fallen. To kill the Titans. To kill their enemies. To reclaim their world.

Excuse me, sir…

To…

-if you love having someone love you…

Excuse me…

To…

Do you really love me…?

Excuse me, sir-

"Commander?" Erwin blinked hard. The kettle was whistling so loudly he barely heard the doctor. Taking it off the heat and closing the damper, he turned to face the other man.

"Are you done with the examination? Is Thomasin alright?"

"She's fine for now, but there are some troubling signs. High blood pressure is something women often experience during pregnancy, but it typically happens much later in their term."

"Her blood pressure is high?"

"No- it's unusually low. If it were high that would be odd but understandable, but I've rarely seen such low blood pressure from an otherwise healthy woman in her prime."

"Do you know what's causing it?"

"It could be any number of factors. At the moment, my best professional guess is that it may be tied to her weight. I can't weigh her unless she comes to my office, but from what I've seen during her examination, she appears to be rather underweight all things considered." No. That wasn't possible. He would have noticed if she'd lost weight; he struggled to lift her, for God's sake! But still managed to… with one arm… no, no that was just because he was building his strength back.

"Perhaps she lost a bit of weight, but… that's from the morning sickness, isn't it?"

"Even with morning sickness, she should be gaining weight. How much does she typically eat a day, Commander?" It felt just like being back in the Training Corps, trying to remember how the flintlock was supposed to fit together as everyone stared at him, sneering at his ignorance of something he should have known.

"…I don't know. I leave for work before she wakes up and come back after she's already gone to sleep." The doctor frowned, that judgmental look growing more intense.

"And she stays here alone?" Erwin nodded. "There are no family members who can stay with her?" He could only shake his head helplessly.

You're my family too, Erwin… I don't have anyone else…

He still had Hange and Levi at least, but what did Thomasin have? Nothing. No one. Only him- worse than nothing. Dr. Gerson sighed heavily, shifting his bag from one hand to the other.

"I can't very well expect you to stay home while you're preparing for the Wall Maria reclamation, but I must strongly suggest you find someone to check on your wife in your absence, Commander Erwin. A family friend, a neighbor; you can hire a nurse to make regular house calls, but considering they'd have to travel to Trost, it may be cheaper to arrange for her to stay elsewhere until after the expedition." Stay elsewhere? No- the whole point of her moving here was so they could be together, so he could take care of her. The older man noticed his reticence, his gaze hardening.

"Your wife told me she was kneeling when she fainted; if it were to happen again while she was standing, it could result in a serious head injury, and if no one were to find her for several hours, well… I don't think I need to explain to a soldier why a concussion needs treatment. There's a sanatorium in Yarkle- they mostly specialize in hysteria, but they also employ an order of midwives, so they would be well adept at caring for an expectant mother." Yarkle. Not even up north to Ehrmich, but halfway around the Walls. He could have just left her in Calaneth, nothing changing… Erwin nodded.

"I'll look into it. Thank you, doctor, for your services and advice. Let me get your payment." Pulling his wallet from his pants pocket, he dumped the contents onto the counter, separating the coins.

"If you decide against the sanatorium, Commander, I would suggest the missus come to my office in a week; I'd be able to run tests and perhaps get a better idea of what's causing this drop in blood pressure." Erwin imagined flinging the Rose coins at the doctor's face so hard the little iron discs embedded in his flesh. Instead, he calmly held out his hand, dropping twenty of them into the doctor's palm.

"I'll discuss that with her. I trust you'll be able to return to the district on your own?"

"I'm sure I can manage."

"Then goodbye, doctor, and thank you again." Erwin held open the door for him, but it wasn't until the man had walked through and he'd closed it so fast it nearly smacked his ass on the way out that he noticed something was off.

There was no sound. The ear-piercing squeal that usually accompanied either opening or closing was conspicuous in its absence. In fact, now that he could think straight, he didn't remember it making any noise when he first left this morning, either. He opened the door again, just enough to swing it a few times. Silence. Running his fingers along the top hinge, they came back greasy, stained with rust and oil. He'd bought the oil, but hadn't had the chance to apply it… Wiping his hand on his pants, he crossed the distance to the bedroom in several long strides.

"Were you fixing the door this morning?" Thomasin had since laid back down, and startled, having started dozing off already.

"You're still here? I thought you left when the doctor came…" He couldn't even find it in himself to be hurt by her shock, too many other hurtful, bitter things already rising up in the back of his throat.

"I was going to fix it, Thomasin." She sighed, rolling over onto her side.

"It's fine, Erwin. I know you're busy, and I was getting sick of that damn door waking me up every morning." …of course it woke her up. Of course his efforts to try and be considerate amounted to nothing. "It's a good thing I was already up- that nausea hit me so hard and fast, I'd have woken you up with a shower of vomit if I'd still been in bed." Right, because her morning sickness was bad. He approached the bed, slowly sitting on the edge beside her knee.

"Thomasin, you are eating, aren't you?" He tried to look at her face, but it was difficult when the blankets covered half and her flyaway hairs obscured the other half.

"…when I'm hungry."

"And you're hungry every day, right? …right?" Another sigh, this one deeper, more weary.

"Erwin, it's fine-"

"No, it isn't fine! You're so sick that you're losing weight, and you didn't even tell me…"

"And what would you have done if I had told you?"

"I can buy you different foods- better foods; in Wall Sina, they have higher quality bread and milk and meat. If you're too sick to cook, I can have food brought to you or- Thomasin?" He almost didn't hear it, that strange choking sound muffled by the blankets.

"Go," she told him, the word strangled as though it were being pulled from her throat. "I'm fine now; just go…" Reaching up, he tried to pull the blanket away from her face, but she held fast to her cloth shield.

"I already told you I'm not going today-"

"Yes, you said and did everything you were supposed to. You did it; you passed the husband test. You dutifully fulfilled your obligations- you don't have to pretend to want to be here anymore." What started out as a snap, almost a snarl, grew more and more choked with tears until she was more sobbing than speaking. Toeing off his shoes, Erwin climbed over her, not even bothering with the covers, just wrapping his arm around the bundle.

"I want to be here."

"No, you don't! If you're going to keep going away, then just stay away! Stop coming back!" He could hear her gasping, sucking in pained breaths as she wailed. He wasn't equipped to give comfort. He wasn't soft and kind and gentle like her; his voice was designed to give rousing speeches and convince children to die for foolish dreams and people who would spit on their memory. But still he tried, rubbing her arm and rocking her and whispering soothing sounds the way she did for him, but even he could tell that it wasn't good enough to have the same effect. And yet, somehow, the crying grew quieter until those wails were reduced to the whimpers of a dying mongrel on the side of the road. "I should've stayed in Calaneth…" she whined, the sound as painful as the words themselves. "Then there was an excuse- 'it's too far away'…"

"Thomasin, if you were in Calaneth, I'd still be doing everything in my power to visit you as often as possible."

"But you wouldn't visit. Not because of work, not because you don't want to, but because it's too far away. That was better…" Nothing changing…

"…if I retired from the Survey Corps today, would that make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Even if I got another job that required me to travel or stay away for months on end?" A pause.

"Yes."

"Even if that job were just as dangerous?"

"There is no job as dangerous as being a Scout." She pushed the covers down, his arm with them, and sat up, her face wet with tears. "In every other aspect of life, you can die, but being a Scout is purposefully confronting death. And if you somehow survive, you just go back out an confront it again. It's no different from putting a gun to your head and if it misfires, reloading it and trying again. It's like you want to die…" She drew her knee up to her chest. "Why do you want to die, Erwin? Why aren't you happy…?" Her words were like a blade to the gut and for a moment, he could only lie there, shocked.

"I don't. I am- I am happy." She bowed her head, burying her face in her arms.

"No, you're not." She no longer sounded "sad". If misery were a body of water, she had dived down, so far down that the currents were calm and slow but the pressure was crushing. "If you were happy, your life would have meaning to you… beyond being something you can use to prove a dead man right." She lifted her face just enough to breathe more easily. "I wonder if anyone who joins the Survey Corps is happy, or if all those brave Scouts just want someone to acknowledge when they're gone…?" That bitterness that had been brewing in the back of his throat rose into his mouth, nearly gagging him.

"Is that why you joined the Survey Corps?" She shook her head slowly.

"I… wanted to see how you'd react when you finally got on the other side of those Walls." She raised her head a bit more, her gaze focused on something far beyond the confines of the room. "You always looked so happy when you were talking about your stupid theories… your eyes would light up… I'd never seen anyone else's eyes do that. It was like seeing the sun come out from behind the clouds… it was beautiful. As stupid and impossible as it was- I knew it was- I thought 'maybe there's some hint out there, some little shred of proof of other humans living outside the Walls'… and I wanted to see your eyes light up when you found it."

"…so you did join the Corps because of me."

"No. I joined for me. Just like you didn't join for your father; you joined for yourself, to make yourself feel better… so did I." So she understood, better than he thought she did, why he had to do this. So then why-? "That's what I don't understand. You've already gotten so much proof that your father was right about everything- the king taking our memories, these people who can turn into Titans coming from beyond the Walls… but I haven't seen your eyes light up once the way they used to. I just don't get it; if none of this has made you happy, what can possibly be in Shiganshina that would be different?" Erwin sat up beside her, his mind running in loops. When he spoke finally, every word was slow and deliberate, as though he were judging their weight as they came.

"…I don't know. And I don't think I will know until I get there. I know what I'm hoping will be there. Something… tangible. Something that isn't simply hearsay; something I can hold in my hand and show to other people and have them realize these aren't just things I've learned about or experienced- they are the objective truths of the world." His fingers clenched around the blankets. "I can't explain it to you, Thomasin- it's like being the only person who sees that the sky is blue and being unable to show it to anyone else. I can explain it all I want, but no one knows the way I do."

"…and that would make you happy?" she asked in a small voice. "Some tangible proof you can rub into everyone's face so the world knows with absolute certainty that you're right and they're wrong?" Turning as best he could, he wrapped his arm around her, resting his cheek against her hair.

"I'm already happy… but that would make me happier, yes." Proof that everything had been worth it…

"And that- that chance to be 'happier'- is worth risking your life for?" There was no reason to lie.

"It always has been. I think most people would risk their lives for the things that truly make them happy; is that not why parents are willing to die for their children?"

He was expecting some smart-alec response, why don't you tell me, Mr. Dad? That was what she always did. That was what she was supposed to do. Instead, she let out a breath that sounded like she had been holding it for a long time, shrugging off his embrace and laying down once more, her back to him.

"I'm tired, Erwin. You can go now; I'll be fine."

~o0o~

He swore loudly as the bowl tipped over for the second time- this time, it was full enough that some of the contents splashed onto his shirt. Quickly righting it, he grabbed the now well-used dishtowel and began wiping away the yellow streaks. A clatter- two clatters- had him nearly upending the bowl again. Thomasin had strapped her prosthetic back on, but still carried one of her crutches; from the way she held it, it seemed she'd been intending to use it as a bludgeon.

"I thought you left the door unlocked and someone came in."

"You really refuse to believe that I would take a single day off work to stay with you."

"I might have to reconsider, now…" Leaning the crutch against the wall, she limped closer. "What are you even doing, other than making a huge mess?" Erwin dropped the once more soiled towel in the sink, the back of his neck growing uncomfortably warm.

"I thought… that I could make you breakfast since you weren't feeling well. The way you did for me. I figured I'd spent a fair amount of time in the Training Corps' kitchen, so it shouldn't be that difficult… and then I remembered that my culinary expertise starts and ends at boiling vegetables." She peered into the contents of the bowl.

"…I'm seeing a distinct lack of vegetables…"

"It turns out you need two hands to peel things; who knew? So then I tried to figure out something I could prepare with one hand, and thought meat would be simple enough… but we don't have any, so I settled on eggs. Eggs are almost meat."

"True- that's why I started raising chickens in the first place." She reached around him, pulling a rather large piece of shell from the mixture. "Is this the first time you've ever cracked eggs?"

"I assumed since they are easy to break that I could crack them with one hand, but no- this is also something that requires two hands to finesse." Thomasin gave him a long, hard look before grabbing the last egg, sliding the bowl away from him. Putting her right hand behind her back, she tapped the egg on the edge of the counter, and although the shell appeared fully intact as none of its contents spilled out, the moment it was moved over the bowl, she split it easily. The egg dropped into the bowl- the yolk still intact, even!- and each half of the shell remained in her hand. As Erwin silently fumed, she reached under the counter, grabbing a basket filled with older, dried out shells and dropping what she held into it before fishing the rest from the trash (and giving a disappointed look at those still in the bowl).

"Don't throw these away- I feed them to the girls."

"I have never been so angry in my life. How in the ever-loving fuck did you do that?"

"You just crack the egg on the counter- you have to use your thumb to actually open it."

"I tried that! It just exploded in my hand!"

"It takes practice." The smallest hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Man can't shoot or cook; you wouldn't last a day living outside the city…"

"I may have given up on shooting, but I refuse to be bested by cooking. Any idiot alive is capable of heating up food- even I can manage this." Thomasin regarded him in silence for a minute, then inhaled deeply, tugging him over to where she had been standing and rolling his sleeve up.

"First, wash your hand; I don't want to think about how many of my poor eggs you've crushed in your giant, meaty fist." Two hard pumps and she began scrubbing his hand for him, not bothering to roll up her own sleeves or noticing them grow wet.

The fabric of her nightgown was thin, thin enough that it grew almost transparent when the water soaked into it. Glued against her skin, he could just barely see through it- But before he could see anything other than the fact that her arms seemed to be made of the same flesh as the rest of her body, she pulled them away, grabbing an apron from a nail she must have hammered in beside the window and wiping her hands on it before putting it over his neck and tying the cords behind his back.

"Probably should have put this on first…" As she moved to his other side, she reached out to catch herself, leaning heavily on the counter.

"Thomasin, you should sit; you don't need to cook now." Breathing hard, she looked up at him.

"Oh, I'm not. You're going to cook; I'm supervising you to ensure you don't burn this house down with me in it." Wringing out the dish towel, she wrapped it around the bottom of the bowl. "That'll keep it from sliding around. Alright, Commander…" She leaned against the counter, not out of necessity, but to cast her appraising stare over him. "Time to dedicate your heart to some scrambled eggs."

~o0o~

Letting out a deep sigh of relief, Erwin slid the plate currently burning his hand onto the table in front of Thomasin. His palm was already red; Thomasin's pots and pans were crafted from much denser iron than what the military typically used, corroding far more easily, but lasting longer when cared for. They also held heat much longer than he'd expected, the handle still hot enough to singe his skin even after it had been off the heat for several minutes. Grabbing her fork, she began tearing apart the mostly yellow mass.

"Well, it's cooked without having been reduced to ash- that's the main thing I was worried about." Setting a cup of tea beside her, he sat opposite her, watching with bated breath as she took her first bite.

"Well?" he asked after she chewed for longer than he honestly thought was necessary.

"It's good." His shoulders sagged.

"Please be honest." She paused in cutting through another spongy forkful, meeting his eyes.

"…it's edible. That's more than enough for your first time. If I end up puking all of this out, it's not because of you; that's what happens to my cooking these days, too…" Erwin looked down at his own plate- there was less on it than hers. They only had a few eggs left, and the doctor's words about her weight still echoed in his mind. They really were quite tough, a far cry from the fluffy, melt-in-you-mouth clouds Thomasin made for him. Even with two hands and a knife he'd probably have difficulty cutting through them, but he managed to break off a manageable portion.

Putting it in his mouth, he chewed once… twice… and stopped. Technically, this was food. "Edible" was about the best thing that could be said for this… construct. A quiet crunching made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Thomasin, are you eating the shells!?"

"They're small," she informed him, as though that somehow made it okay.

"That doesn't matter; spit them out!"

"I've eaten eggs with shells in them before. At least you took the bigger pieces out. It's fine."

"What if they hurt the baby?" At that point, she stopped chewing, but rather than do the sane thing and spit the offending food out, she swallowed, almost defiant.

"Erwin, this is a precious commodity. Do you know how hard it is to get fresh eggs? It's gonna be a lot harder now that Bernie and Henry aren't laying. I'm not spitting out perfectly serviceable food just because it's a little crunchy." She returned to her meal, her voice quiet, so much so that he almost didn't hear her. "My mom taught me not to waste food. If I only teach one lesson to this brat, it's going to be that one…" Oh… so that was why…

"Was your mother the one who taught you how to cook?" Something dark gathered behind her eyes, making her face look hard and cold.

"No. Beatrice, Ramos' wife, was the one who did all the cooking in the tavern. Well… 'cooking'; she basically put pig slop in a pot to heat up. But when that pig slop is the only thing standing between you and an empty stomach, that shit tastes like ambrosia. God knows that bitch thought it was; every meal came out of my mom's pay, and that old cunt charged an arm and a leg for scraps I wouldn't feed a dog."

"Surely it would have been cheaper to buy ingredients and cook for yourselves?"

"Cook where, Erwin? Build an open fire in our tiny little attic? Cook outside in the street and get fined by the MPs for posing a safety hazard, or maybe go out into Wall Maria territory every day for dinner? Or do you think those fucking mizers would let us use their precious kitchen for free? Being able to have a hot meal whenever you want is a luxury- I'd rather have a stove than a toilet." She turned her attention back to her food, hacking at the eggs with a newfound determination, as Erwin found the last lingering trace of his appetite leave him.

"…you've lived a miserable life, haven't you, Thomasin?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why you don't want to have children? Because you're afraid their life might also be miserable?" She paused mid-bite, her mouth hanging open enough to see its contents. She began chewing again. And chewing. And chewing, chewing until even the crunching had stopped, but she still chewed… and then finally swallowed. Lightly placing her fork down, she placed her hands in her lap, staring at her plate, breathing hard.

"…I never told you how my mother died, did I?"

"No."

"She fell. When I was seven years old, she fell down and broke her neck. I saw it happen. No one helped her. They just stared. Some of them ran away, but they all just left her lying there in the street, until some of the regulars from the bar found her and brought her back. …the drunks and druggies were always better to us than all the respectable members of society. Maybe they pitied us, the only dregs lower than them…" She let out a low, heavy breath. "Sometimes when you break your neck, it kills you instantly, but sometimes, it kills the rest of your body but your mind continues living. For a while, at least. She couldn't talk- the way she hit her head must have given her a really bad concussion- but she could still make noises. Her eyes followed me when I moved around the room. I don't think she could feel anything below her face; she couldn't feel her body swelling up from the urine she couldn't pass, or rotting from the sores on her back. Maybe she could feel it getting harder to breathe when her lungs filled up with fluid- I didn't think to ask.

I didn't think about anything back then, other than how worthless I was because I couldn't do anything to help her. All I could do was watch the only person who ever loved me slowly die. And it wasn't until the undertaker came to throw her in the pauper's cemetery with all the other destitute and forgotten and unwanted bodies that I realized I was completely alone in the world. And I remained alone for over a decade, until I was discharged from the Survey Corps and we became friends…" She looked up at him. She wasn't crying; her eyes were completely dry and for some reason, that was so much more painful to see than if tears had been running down her cheeks.

"Being miserable is a terrible thing… but there is nothing in the world that hurts so much as being alone. I wouldn't wish that on the worst monster alive, let alone my own child. I never knew my father- his name or where he came from or even what he looked like, other than that he looked like me. That was what my mom always said, 'you look so much like him'. I don't know if he left us or died in the gutter. All I know is it was just my mom and me… until it wasn't. Then it was just me. And all I've been able to think about for the past month is 'if you die, that's exactly how it's going to be for this kid'…"

It was just like when Hange told them what they found in Ragako, that satisfaction of everything clicking, every piece falling effortlessly into place… but he wasn't smiling this time. In fact, as Erwin saw that old apathetic look settle on Thomasin's face and finally recognized it for what it truly was, he didn't think he'd ever smile again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered, his throat too tight, too dry to speak any louder even if he'd wanted to. Thomasin shrugged, the nonchalance of that small movement a punch to the gut. How? How could she be so calm?

"Why would I? Why would I tell anyone that? Why would I want to make anyone sad and uncomfortable? …I thought about telling you, sometimes. I thought if you realized how slow and painful dying could be that you wouldn't be in such a rush to go die outside the Walls… but even back then, I realized nothing would stop you. You saw what they did to your dad and that didn't stop you. You saw people get crushed like bugs and eaten alive every month, and that didn't stop you. There is… nothing within these Walls that matters to you half as much as what lies outside them…"

"That's not true!" The words were as reflexive as breathing, and just as necessary to his survival. If he didn't say them aloud, didn't convince her of their truth, he would choke on them and die. Inhaling deeply, Erwin steeled himself for what he would say next, what he had to say, because there were no other words. "Thomasin, I will never venture beyond the Walls again. If that's what it takes to convince you that I won't leave you alone, so be it."

"What about this mission?"

"That's not beyond the Walls; that's Shiganshina. People lived there- you lived there!"

"You just said-"

"I said 'the Walls', I didn't say 'this Wall'." He sighed. "Everything is already set in stone for this mission. It's not just about what you and Levi want; the donors, the government, the entire population- I owe a debt to all these people to make good on the one thing I'm supposed to accomplish during my tenure as Commander. I have to lead the Wall Maria reclamation. And afterwards…" He reached across the table. Her hands were still in her lap, so he placed his own just over her elbow, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. "My life is my own. If you want me to retire, I'll retire. I already have Hange set up to be my successor."

He expected that bitter taste to come back into his mouth, but surprisingly, it didn't. Maybe because he wasn't lying. Reclaiming Wall Maria, getting to that basement… that would settle all his debts. Once they resettled the outer districts, they could build more Titan guillotines and eradicate the majority of them safely, leaving the path to make contact with the outside world clear for other people. Hopefully, if there was any justice in the world, they would find some physical proof of whatever bastion of humanity their enemies hailed from in Grisha's basement. And after that… well, he'd just have to get there, wouldn't he? Thomasin didn't react to his words any more than she did his touch, her face motionless as thoughts he couldn't hope to unravel churned behind her eyes.

"…you don't think you'd be resentful? Being trapped in this pen while other people live out your dream…?" He paused, mulling over her question.

"Honestly? No. Because I wouldn't be trapped. When we reclaim Wall Maria and kill our enemies and eliminate the Titans, the Walls won't be a cage anymore. They'll be walls, just like these walls." He gestured around the room, and to his surprise, Thomasin actually followed the trail of his hand. "I'm not trapped behind these walls. I'm not here because I have to be. I can leave whenever I please… but I want to be here. There's a difference between a little bird that's trapped in a cage and a little bird that makes its home in a yard; one of them knows what's out there, but it's also experienced enough to know what a wonderful thing a nice little home with other birds can be." Thomasin lowered her head again, but not before he noticed something wet slide down her cheek.

"I've been wanting to hear you say things like this for almost fifteen years… I want to believe you, but there's a part of my mind that's saying 'he's lying to get what he wants, just like he does with everyone else'. I just… I just don't believe that you would choose me over the outside world. You never have before; what's different now?"

"I am," he answered easily. "I've changed. I don't know if all those changes are for the better, but I have changed. I know it's not going to be easy; I can honestly envision a Titan waltzing easier than I can picture myself living a life of domestic bliss… but I'm more than happy to take on this new challenge with you." Scooting his chair a bit closer to her own, Erwin reached down and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "I'd say today was a practice round, but honestly, today was pretty terrible all things considered. So I'd like to try this again." That caught her attention. "I don't think I can take another whole day off, but…" he trailed off as he mentally went over his schedule. Their expedition was a little more than a week away. "…Tuesday. Tuesday, I only have two meetings. I can be home… probably around ten? I know that's late, but we can have dinner together?"

"This Tuesday?"

"No, last Tuesday; I'm sorry you had to miss it, it was delicious." She quickly suppressed a snort of laughter. The smile that laughter brought quickly faded, but some of the light in her eyes remained.

"You mean that?" Pulling his hand back, Erwin beat his fist against his chest.

"Scout's honor. If you don't want to cook, I can make us reservations at a restaurant in Wall Sina-"

"No, I'd rather cook," she told him quickly. She traced the edge of the table with her other hand. "Your birthday's coming up soon… I guess this could be… a practice dinner."

"No. I don't want this to be a prelude to one special day; if anything, it's practice for what the rest of our lives will be." The light in her eyes grew brighter, that ember of hope burning stronger as it hungrily consumed his promises. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How do you feel about cooking beef?" Thomasin's brows shot up, nearly blending in with her hairline.

"I- I've never even seen raw beef."

"Well, consider this a learning opportunity, then. There's a butcher shop in the industrial district owned by the Reeves' Company- they work with the Corps and give us heavy discounts. I'm sure you can figure something out. Just imagine it, Thomasin; roast beef encrusted with cracked pepper and seasoned with salt- actual salt…" Those were the magic words to win her over, but there was still a hint of residual doubt in her eyes.

"So you're gonna come home, right? If I cook this, you're gonna eat it with me, right…?" Home… it was such a strange, yet wonderful thing, to be able to consider even this transitory shelter a "home"… all the more strange and wonderful to hear the word on her lips and feel that she truly meant it.

"You couldn't keep me away if you tried. I am this close to selling my virtue for a good piece of meat." Her laugh was short but genuine, an actual smile finally breaking through.

"That can be arranged, Smith. …alright. I'll get everything ready. Just… don't forget." Rising from his seat just enough to reach her, he pressed his lips to her temple, just beside the scar there.

"I won't."

000000000

He'd hoped he would be able to catch the Scouts before they began eating, but as he walked between the trestle benches, the clattering of cutlery and low mummer of conversation had already begun. Fortunately, it quickly died down as Erwin made his way to the head of the room. Levi had been flipping the latch on the case open and closed, a nervous tic from anyone else- probably just boredom from him- but made sure it was sealed correctly as he handed the dark wood to his commander.

"I won't take up much of your time," he assured the room at large, "but now that you've all been assigned to your squads and learned the official details of the upcoming mission, it's time to inform you of something that stays off the record." He held up the case. "This case contains a serum taken from the royal family- the actual royal family. When this serum enters the bloodstream, it turns a person into a Titan; the mindless variety scratching at the Walls. However, if that mindless Titan eats a person who can turn into a Titan at will- people like Eren, Reiner and Bertholdt- they will regain their human form and take on those powers as well." The whispers began at once, some fearful but surprisingly, many excited. The idea of turning into someone like Eren, all but invincible, was clearly an enticing prospect. Erwin quickly yanked the rug out from under their feet.

"The reason we have this serum is not to make another soldier into a weapon. When a person becomes a mindless Titan, any injuries they have sustained, no matter how grave, will be healed. We have the chance to save one critically injured soldier, and that it what we will use it for." That excitement quickly turned solemn as those young hopefuls realized the cost of nigh immortality was skirting death. One of the new recruits, probably a transfer for the Garrison, slowly raised a shaking hand. Erwin nodded at him, prompting him to speak.

"So… does this mean we need to capture one of those people who can turn into a Titan? I mean, without one of them, that serum's just gonna make another monster that eats people, right?"

"No. Our mission has not changed- we are to retake Wall Maria and exterminate any enemies we happen upon. These people are too great of a threat to our continued survival to risk letting them escape. If- IF, by some miracle, you can manage to completely incapacitate one of them- that means destroying their Titan form and severing all four of their human limbs- and get them somewhere they can't easily transform, like cellar, while there is a critically injured soldier in your immediate vicinity, then you can consider taking a prisoner, but if you are not able to meet all of these precautions, best err on the side of caution and simply kill them. Keep in mind that mindless Titans are nigh immortal. As long as the nape is untouched, they cannot die, and we have it on good authority that whoever is turned will have little to no recollection of the time they spent as a Titan, even if they remain one for decades. We still have one Shifter, Annie Leonhart, in custody, so do not waste a valuable opportunity to rid ourselves of one of the greatest threats to our survival on 'what ifs'." He handed the case back to his lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Levi will be responsible for carrying and administering the serum. If you find an injured soldier, secure your location and summon the lieutenant with a yellow flare."

"What if there are multiple injured people?" another recruit, older than the 104th but still little more than a child, spoke up without raising her hand. "Medicine can be given in lower doses; can't that serum just make a bunch of little Titans?" Hange fielded their question for them.

"It's possible, but it's also possible that anything less than a full dose might cause more problems. Does anyone here know about the Titan that attacked Orvud district two months ago?" A few hands tentatively rose. "That Titan was formed from a person who didn't receive the proper dosage of the serum. I don't think I need to explain to you all why we don't want something twice the size of the Colossal running around."

"But then… how do we decide who lives and who dies?"

"You don't," Erwin told her plainly. "That decision is in the hands of the lieutenant. I trust his judgment, and all of you should as well."

~o0o~

As he wrote the final letter of his signature, Erwin frowned at it, laying the pen on his desk. The difference between his handwriting now and how it had looked two months ago was night and day. He should have been proud of his progress- he was proud- but when he looked closely like this, he could still see how shaky some of the letters were, how the ink was fainter in some places because writing with a consistent pressure was still something he had to think about instead of a natural instinct. He forced himself to close his eyes as he fished out his watch, to breathe deeply and calmly. Not everything needed to be perfect- at least, not inconsequential things like this.

Less frustrated, he flipped open the pewter watch and glanced at the time, smiling ever so slightly as hope swelled in his heart. It wasn't even nine yet; if he left right now, he could get home before ten. Hopefully, Thomasin was still putting the finishing touches on their dinner. Pulling open the first drawer, he began piling papers into it haphazardly; he could sort and properly file them in the morning. He just had to hurry- A knock at the door drew an enraged growl from his throat before he collected himself.

"Yes?"

"It's Eren, sir. I need to speak with you." 'Oh god, what now…?!' Pinching the bridge of his nose preemptively against the pressure he was certain was going to begin building behind his eyes, Erwin sat back down.

"Come in." By the time the door open, he appeared as calm and collected as he ever had. Eren too was in his plainclothes, but he still saluted as the door closed behind him. "At ease. Take a seat." Despite his hands returning to his sides, the boy looked no more relaxed as he crossed the room, his movements stiff as he sat. "What's wrong?" His brows were furrowed, his normally bright green eyes dark.

"I've been thinking about the things I saw when Historia and her dad touched me back in that cave. Those visions… my dad's memories. There was one I kept coming back to; a man my dad was talking to the day Wall Maria fell. He was wearing a Survey Corps uniform."

"And you want to check the records to see who he might have been?" Eren shook his head.

"I think I know who it was…" He looked up. "I think it was Commandant Shadis- he was our instructor in the southern Training Corps. It didn't look like him, but I just can't shake the feeling that it was him…" Something he'd heard a long, long time ago came back to his mind, just a whisper of a memory in Thomasin's voice, I think he was friends with Shadis, cuz he always calls him "Keith"…

Erwin rose, walking over to the cabinet holding the files of their former legion. The vast majority of them were listed as "Deceased" or "Missing in Action". The one he pulled out and opened was marked with "Retired" in large, red letters in his own hand writing- his old handwriting. He handed the file to Eren.

"Is this who you saw?" The boy's eyes widened as they landed on the illustration accompanying the personal information.

"Yeah! I mean, he looked older than this when he was talking to my dad, but… that's definitely him."

"I'm surprised you recognized him," Erwin intoned as Eren returned the folder to him and he shoved it back into the catacomb where it belonged. "I don't see him often these days, but the years haven't been kind." The boy shook his head slightly, his expression almost pained.

"I recognize him because I saw him that day, too… I saw him when the Survey Corps was coming back… he was giving a woman her son's arm." The discomfort behind his eyes made sense now; Erwin still remembered feeling sick to his stomach hearing his predecessor's broken weeping. It had probably been even more disturbing for a little boy. He was surprised Eren would still hold the Survey Corps in high esteem after that spectacle. "I need to speak to him, Commander. I don't think my dad was just approaching the first soldier he saw; I think he knew the commandant. He might know something about what happened that day." I think he was friends with Shadis… Erwin nodded.

"Any lead is worth following. Tomorrow, you can head to the training grounds at first light. Hange and Levi will accompany you." Eren's brows furrowed in confusion.

"I understand the lieutenant, but Section Commander Hange, too?"

"Hange has been in the Corps much longer than Levi. Shadis might feel more at ease opening up around a fellow veteran." That was always a possibility, but the real reason Erwin wanted Hange there to listen was because hopefully, they knew their old commander well enough to have an easier time spotting any lies. There shouldn't have been any reason to lie, but people with an excess of pride were never to be fully trusted.

"Should I tell them, sir?"

"I'll do that. I suggest you get some rest, Eren; you'll be up before sunrise." The boy nodded slowly and stood but his steps were slow, some deep thought making every movement ponderous.

"Commander?"

"Yes?"

"You were in the Survey Corps back then too, right?"

"That's right."

"That soldier, who the arm belonged to… did you know him?"

"Noah Walsh. Yes, I knew him, but he wasn't in my section."

"Was… was the commandant friends with him?"

"I doubt it."

"I remember… he started crying… I thought-"

"Back then, Keith Shadis was the commander of the Survey Corps." Eren's head shot up, shock writ on his face. "He'd served as commander for well over a decade. In that time, he would have told many grieving parents that their children were gone."

"It's just… the commandant never struck me as someone who would cry over a stranger. Over anyone, really."

"Walsh wasn't a stranger to him. He was someone he was tasked to protect, but failed to. A precious life that was snuffed out on his orders. That loss, that pain, is never made easier just because someone isn't 'friends' with their subordinate. It wears you down."

"Is… is that how it is for you, Commander Erwin?"

"…goodnight, Eren."

"…goodnight, commander."

~o0o~

He didn't even count the iron coins as he thrust them into the driver's hands. He'd definitely overpaid, but he was more concerned with squinting at the tiny numbers painted on the watchface. The waning moon provided just enough light for him to make out a "1" under the smaller of the hands. Shoving it back into his pocket, he fished out his keys as the carriage turned and began heading back into the district. He wasn't that late. It couldn't be one in the morning- it was probably just eleven. That's right, there was no way in hell that he had spent that long discussing this new potential revelation with Levi and Hange. Not tonight of all nights. Finally managing to throw the door open, the darkness and silence that met him were oppressive.

"Thomasin?" The room was not large enough to provide an echo, but there was still a hollow quality to every sound that made the house feel that much emptier. Pulling off his coat and draping it over his arm, Erwin strained to hear some sound of movement- maybe- maybe she was just taking a bath, or- or reading even though there was no light from the back room either- but stopped in front of the table. It wasn't the table itself that gave him pause, but what sat atop it. A candle, burned down to a nub in its pewter holder, hardened wax overflowing onto the wood. A plate, a bowl, a cup- the contents of each long grown cold.

Even with white fat congealing atop it, the beef still smelled amazing, causing his mouth to water despite the sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Only one side of the table was set; it was safe to assume she'd eaten and gone to sleep, like any normal person would. Grabbing the cup, Erwin walked over to the sink, dumping the contents out; he barely tolerated tea when it was hot. Setting it under the pump, he sighed, wondering how long Thomasin had stood here, chopping and peeling and sweating over the stove to make everything perfect, just like she did when he visited her in October. 'Piece of shit… you're a piece of shit, you know that…?'

As he worked the pump, the water washing away the smell of tea, he could still smell the meat, the garlic and vinegar on the salad… he didn't think cold food would smell so strong. Inhaling deeply, his nose led him to the waste basket beside the sink. Peels and potato skins, and sitting on top of all of that, a thick cut of beef partially obscured by the salad potatoes and bread that had been dumped on top of it. Erwin's stomach twisted itself into knots as he stared at it. Even with a discount from the Reeves' Company, that wasn't cheap. Meat, especially red meat, was such a precious commodity. The first words she ever spoke to him, chastising him for wasting a simple roll of bread, I just don't think food should be wasted…

"You stupid piece of shit…" he whispered to himself as he washed the cup. His father had managed to work nine hours a day, come home, grade papers, prepare lesson plans, take care of his ailing mother and cooked dinner on top of every other household chore, and he couldn't even get home before midnight- 'Don't compare yourself to your father- you will never be a fraction of the man he was. You're no better than Shadis- no, even he's better than you; at least he never got anyone else involved in his miserable excuse for a life. What do you do? Drag down everyone around you…'

Putting away the now clean cup, he glanced down the short hall at the bedroom, then back at the table. The once-appetizing scent was beginning to make him feel ill, but it was wrong to waste food and even at a glance, he could see how much time and effort had gone into preparing it. 'A quarter of the population died because there wasn't enough food, and you're actually considering not eating? Stupid pieces of shit like you don't deserve food, especially not good food, made with love.You don't deserve any of the love that's been wasted on you…'

Sitting, Erwin stared down at the plate for a long time. His eyes had since grown accustomed to the dark, and he could see much better. The meat had already been cut into strips. Using a knife had become nearly impossible. Grabbing a fork, he speared a piece, lifting it but not eating. There was a crust of cracked black pepper on the outer edge of the meat, flecks of herbs and pieces of sauteed onion clinging to it. It wasn't anywhere near the quality the nobles within the Interior served, but it far outpaced anything he would ever see outside of Wall Sina.

He had to eat it. He had to, at the very least, make sure her hard work wasn't completely in vain, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he put that food in his mouth, he was going to vomit. How could he not when guilt and self loathing were already churning in his gut so violently it physically hurt? He needed to find out what kind of doctor would be required to deal with her pregnancy, if they needed a surgeon or just anyone who could write a prescription. There was no way Thomasin had sat here for hours, watching the candle burn down until it finally sputtered and died, watching the food she slaved over that he promised to eat with her grow cold, and not had her beliefs in his ineptitude strengthened.

He would not be a good father; no matter what he or anybody who didn't truly know him wanted to believe, Thomasin was right. The expedition was in two days. When they returned, he would take her to Mitras and try to put this failed experiment behind them. Hopefully, when it was just the two of them to consider, she would give him another chance. Maybe he could ask Nile for advice. Thinking about the things to come, making plans that kept his mind distracted, was the only way he could choke down that luxurious meal without the quiet solitude driving him insane. He was grateful they still couldn't afford salt; that damp saltiness on his lips tasted like poison.

000000000

A/N- Firstly, the standard shoutout and thanks to Musical Bear~ (it… physically hurt me how dirty Historia was done. How do you make a character so interesting, cram them full of so much potential, and then just shove them in the back of a cabinet- *notices Mike in the trash* …oh. Right…)

Geez, this is the second birthday I've had while working on this fic (well, not the day of posting, the 19th). Y'know, if any lovely readers at this point are feeling generous, comments make for lovely gifts~

I know I'm making a big deal about Erwin missing his arm… because it should be a big deal. This just happened- getting used to living with a disability takes time. Here's part of a quote from an article written by an amputee after he lost his arm (because I actually try to do research on things that I don't have any personal experience with)- "There are two things you need to know about life after an arm amputation: First, your center of gravity changes dramatically when you are suddenly 8 pounds lighter on one side of your body…" But no, that wouldn't have any effect on a skill that 1000% relies on balance. I can see him managing to brute force his way around that immediately after it happened because adrenaline is a hell of a drug, but doing something once as a fluke is not the same as learning to do it consistently. Gaining enough height to one-arm slash Bareboner is one thing, but seriously- how the fuck did he get up Wall Maria in RtS with only one ODM trigger? Every time he reached his anchor point, did he just have to free fall until that one cable he's capable of using fully re-spooled and re-anchored? Or did another soldier have to carry him? *heavy sigh* I know this seems like a petty nitpick, but seeing illness and disability treated with a modicum of thought shouldn't be too much to ask for.

Also, I was rewatching The Ancient Magus Bride while editing this (Ancient Magus Bride and Violet Evergarden are the aesthetic inspiration for this story, and are pretty much the kind of anime I see Reasons as in my mind- some action, but mostly just really beautifully animated slice-of-life stuff that makes you cry at least twice per episode), and… yeah, what I said before still stands: Dani Chambers is the only VA I can imagine for Thomasin. I just read her monologues in this chapter in (dub) Chise's voice, and that subdued, perpetual sense of melancholy that she exudes is perfect. I just… I need to hear Chise as a thirty year old woman. Same vibe, same energy and delivery, just a slightly deeper and more mature voice.