"Please … come home. I'm so sorry, Annie."

Annie …

Annie …

ANNIE

"Annie?"

Annie's eyes slowly opened. She stared at the tan brick flickering in the torchlight.

"You're like an alarm clock," Annie said. She sat up in her small cot. The chain around her wrist rattled as she brushed back the hair from her face.

"Sorry."

Marco was watching her from outside the cell. He lifted a hand, hesitated, then wrapped his fingers around one of the metal bars. A small, weary smile graced his features. "I just … I'm glad you don't seem hurt."

"No," Annie said. The sheet was thrown back and she placed her bare feet on the stone floor. There was enough slack for the shackles around her limbs to offer limited mobility about the small cell. Oddly enough, being chained down didn't bother her as much as it should.

I've failed. There's nothing more I can do. This is my life now, for however long I have left.

"All I wanted to do in the Military Police was lie around and nap, anyway," Annie said. "This is like a vacation."

Marco didn't find the joke funny. He dropped his eyes, his knuckles going white from his grip on the bar.

"Do you hate me?" Annie asked.

"… No, I don't hate you."

There had been a pause before Marco gave his answer. Annie felt it in her chest like a jab.

"I hate me," Annie said. She turned her head to look at Marco with a droopy expression. "So does everyone else; I don't want you to feel left out."

Marco couldn't hold her gaze. His mouth grew taught. To Annie it looked like he was fighting the urge to vomit.

"You should sit before you pass out," Annie said. She glanced at the chair behind Marco. There was a moment of hesitation before Marco took her up on the offer.

"You're uncomfortable, so I'm going to save you some time having to be here," Annie said. "I know Section Commander Hange is standing right around the corner. I know she's going to want you to ask the same questions she's been trying to get me to answer the past few days. I'll tell you now, I won't answer those questions. I'm done with being a soldier; I'm done with being a warrior. I have no desire for redemption since I know it can't happen no matter how hard I try."

Not in the short time I have left, anyway.

Annie rose from her seat to approach the bars. The chains at her ankles rattled against the stone with every slow step. She was forced to a stop before getting too close; only enough slack remained for her to reach out and rest her fingertips on the metal. A shudder ran up her arm and down her spine. The bars felt like ice to the touch … until her fingers grazed the spot Marco had been clutching before.

"Marco."

Saying his name was like throwing a rock through a window. Annie's resolve to keep a straight face shattered.

"You made me forget," Annie said. Her fingers trembled as her voice broke. "You made me forget everything else, because when you looked at me … you just saw me. I wasn't a tool, I wasn't a weapon, I wasn't an enemy. I was just … existing."

Annie bowed her head. A tear slowly trailed down her cheek before dripping from her chin. "We were on opposite sides; it was inevitable I'd hurt you. There was a chance I'd even kill you myself. When you arrived after I'd been captured, I was going to lose my Titan form to escape the net and take a hostage – you would've been a perfect target because I knew you would hesitate when it came to hurting me."

A loud clang accompanied Annie falling to her knees. One eye was covered as she lifted a shaking hand to her face. "It was at that moment … I wondered who I was. I couldn't decide if I was the type of person who would grab you and cut your throat as a distraction. The fact I couldn't answer something like that about myself … how I felt sick for thinking it, yet wanted to leap out so I wouldn't lose my opening … I was ready to kill you; the person I'd protect from any other threat without hesitation. And even though I was thinking these horrible things, you still told me everything was going to be alright."

The sound of boots scraping against stone prompted Annie to lift her head. She watched Marco put his back to the wall beside the cell; sliding down until he sat on the floor. A moment of silence passed as he watched Annie from the corner of his eye and waited for her to finish wiping her face.

"I was told you killed a lot of people," Marco said. His frown deepened when Annie didn't move to protest the accusation.

"Are you saying …" Marco said. "... they all died meaningless deaths?"

Annie closed her eyes. She remembered her father holding her for so long on the day she left home she'd thought he'd never let go. His figure had faded into the mist along the docks when the steamship had taken her across the ocean. Every step thereafter over the foreign land which she'd been told was a sworn enemy of Marley had been accompanied by a repeat of the same thought:

I hate my life.

It had been frightening when Marcel was scooped up and eaten right in front of her. It had been frightening, but not sad.

Marcel was an idiot. He saved the one with the weakest will among us, everything would be easier for the mission if Marcel had just let Reiner die.

Every Eldian who'd been turned into a mindless Titan deserved it. Everyone who'd died on the day Wall Maria fell had deserved it. Everyone who'd died during the attack on Trost had deserved it. Everyone who'd died trying to protect Eren Jaeger had deserved it.

On their third time going on a run together, Marco had told Annie the story of his encounter with Maria's Knight. The manner in which he had spoken made it obvious most people considered his tale a joke at best, and a delusion at worst. Annie had one key takeaway:

Marco almost died after Wall Maria fell.

Three seconds. Three seconds was all it took for Marco to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He'd heard something in Trost he shouldn't have.

"Don't."

One word had saved Marco that day. One word that wasn't even spoken by her.

Marco had almost joined the Scout Regiment. Had Jean not stopped him … would he have returned from the mission outside the walls? Would he have found a meaningful death keeping Eren safe?

Marco doesn't deserve to die.

How many others didn't deserve to die?

"Yes, perhaps their deaths were meaningless," Annie said. "Sometimes this world is just horrible and there's nothing to be done about it."

"You know that isn't true."

"You're an idealist, Marco," Annie said. She turned, finding her will to see his reaction to her words quickly draining away. "I can't imagine how things must look through your eyes. I wonder how much longer it'll be before your outlook is beaten down."

Marco mulled on this for a moment. He let out a deep exhale. "I don't really think about it. I can't give up and truly believe there's no hope when the people around me are working so hard. So many of our friends joined the Scouts to bring us freedom from the Titans. I have no right to stop fighting as long as they keep getting up when they're beaten down. Eren … Eren told me what happened outside the walls."

Marco paused. He shifted in his seat. "He told me … how brutal it was. How so, so many died. And after something like that, you'd think Eren would be afraid and want to just stay here under the protection of the walls. That's what anyone else would do. Eren, though … Eren keeps fighting. He doesn't want the efforts of everyone who died to be for nothing. I don't think he will ever lose hope. If someone like that who puts his life on the line over and over again can keep looking ahead, what right would I have to turn away?"

"And if Eren was gone?"

Annie found she could regard Marco directly if she forced the expressionless mask back on her face. Marco regarded it in surprise for a moment before his brow furrowed.

"If Eren were taken from here," Marco said. "I know without a doubt he'd go through anything to return. If Eren were to die … I wouldn't insult his memory by pretending his ideals of saving us from the Titans didn't matter."

"Then what would make you give up?" Annie asked.

What would make you give up and become like me?

"I would have to lose everything," Marco said. "My family, my friends …" Something shifted behind his eyes. His voice grew solemn. "Is that how you feel? Annie, do you think you've lost everything?"

"I only ever had one thing," Annie said.

'Annie, my daughter … I'm so sorry. Please, come home to me.'

"I won't be getting it back," Annie continued.

There was pity when Marco regarded her. She didn't deserve it.

"You still have more than you think," Marco said. "Hitch, Boris, and the others from our squads … They've asked me about you. There are many out there who won't forgive you for your actions; it's different when it's a person killing other people … I think you know that." Marco paused, working up the ability to continue.

"… I heard about the deaths from the mission outside the walls, but I was also told how you chose not to kill Armin when you had the chance. And I saw firsthand when you turned yourself in instead of fighting back and hurting more people. You told me before I should hate you, but I can't. I'm … sad. It hurts when I think about you now, even when I try to remember the carefree times. That doesn't mean there isn't any good in you. As long as it's still there, I won't turn my back on that piece of good fighting to get out."

"You're such an idiot."

Annie began to laugh. She clutched herself around the middle, her cries of mirth echoing around the cell. The sound appeared to cause Marco pain.

"You're always so good at saying pretty words," Annie said. "It was enough to get all those idiots in our squad falling over themselves to live up to your lofty expectations of grandeur. But you're too stupid to see when you've lost. Leave me alone; I never want to see that moronic face of yours again."

. . .

Marco got to his feet. He watched Annie as she continued to giggle, her cheeks growing flushed.

"I'll be back, Annie," Marco said. A half-hearted smile was shot in her direction before he turned and walked away, Annie's quiet laughter fading at his back.

That's the good part in you … the part that's trying to push me away, Marco thought. You know things would be hard for me with my peers if I were to show you too much sympathy. You really are kind, Annie.

The sound of footfalls amplified when Marco turned a corner and Hange fell into step beside him. She seemed unusually pensive, opening the door leading to the stairwell without a word. A wave and a curt remark indicated Marco was dismissed and should continue to the next floor. Hange remained behind to exchange a few whispered comments with the guards.

Marco's destination was the long tunnel which ran underground between Military Police Headquarters and the courthouse. It was here a group of soldiers making up Eren and Marco's guard details chatted in the distance. Right across the hall was Eren, who rose from his sitting position against the wall as Marco stepped toward him.

Subtilty wasn't among Eren's many talents; an inquiry leaving his mouth before the steel door behind Marco could close all the way.

"What information did you get out of her?"

The question was dodged with a weak smile. "What Annie did …I don't think she wanted to hurt anyone."

Eren made a frustrated sound. "Who cares what she wanted? That doesn't change anything! I watched her murder people like it meant nothing! Annie is a hea–"

Marco placed a hand on Eren's shoulder. His companion's rant came to a halt as he regarded him in confusion.

"I think she regrets what she did," Marco said. "I know that doesn't help much, but she may change her mind about wanting to join our side. She doesn't seem to be in agreement with the enemy anymore; there's still a part of Annie who's the person we know."

Eren shook his head. "That's bullshit. That Annie may've never been real, Marco."

"I choose not to believe that."

Small squares of the night sky could be seen between the metal grate in the ceiling. A steadfast determination overtook Marco as he took in what little stars he could make out. "I think she's still our friend and she's going to help us."

Eren looked up to follow Marco's gaze. "Honestly, I have no idea what you're thinking. You're giving her way too much credit."

"Maybe," Marco said. He turned his head, the corner of his mouth lifting when Eren looked his way. "I don't think it's a bad thing to have faith in people. We put our faith in you, and you saved us, Eren."

The line between Eren's brows relaxed. "What happened in Trost wasn't just me. And when it was up to me outside the walls … I failed when it counted." His eyes drifted to the door leading to Annie's cell. He gave Marco a tap on the shoulder as he began to walk. "Thinking too much about this is starting to piss me off. Let's get the hell out of here and get dinner – I'm tired of hanging around this place."

"You sure?" Marco said, catching up. "I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to go alone."

"You know," Eren said, keeping his eyes ahead. "Things would go a lot easier for you if you took yourself into consideration every now and then. Anyone can see you're having a hard time and could use the company. Don't offer to push your friends away when you actually need them."

"That's not … what I was trying to do," Marco said, resigned. "But … I appreciate it."

"The situation they're putting you through sucks; I don't agree with it," Eren said. He met Marco's gaze from the corner of his eye. "Annie betrayed you, and the higher ups are using you like a puppet to do their interrogating without any regard for what that'll mean for you. It isn't fair. The only reason I won't encourage you to refuse is because Annie may have information that'll help all humanity. So, if you have to struggle through looking that traitor in the eye and playing her games, at the very least there should be someone who's got your back."

Marco was at a loss for words. He shot Eren side glances as they passed in and out of shadow between the torches hanging on the walls.

"You're …" Marco said. He scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "You're a really nice person, Eren."

"Nah, I don't think so," Eren said with a shrug. "You're just used to hanging out with Jean, who's too thick-headed to be considerate."

Marco felt a touch guilty when he laughed. A warm smile accompanied him speaking in defense of his best friend.