Chapter Two - Consideration
Erwin had completely lost his mind.
Sure, the mission was a bit far-fetched from the beginning, but apprehending three strangers from the Underground just to extend them an invitation to join the Scouts? Quinn couldn't understand the logic behind it. Was the Survey Corps really that desperate for recruits? So desperate that Erwin would resort to extorting people?
No — she shouldn't be surprised at all, now that she thinks about it. Erwin's always had an unconventional way of getting things done, and from what Quinn has heard from Flagon, they're rarely ethical. What was surprising was the fact that Commander Shadis would approve of something like this. It seemed Erwin had him wrapped around his finger tighter than Quinn initially thought.
As Quinn trails behind the newly acquired recruits, a voice calls out from behind her. It pulls her away from her thoughts, and she responds with a confused "Hm?"
It's Luisa, the woman on Erwin's squad. "I said you're injured." she repeats, gesturing to Quinn's shoulder. Looking to her right, Quinn notices a deep shade of red staining the side of her cloak. It seems the pain she'd been feeling in her arm wasn't superficial after all.
"Shit," Quinn groans as she inspects her bloodied cloak a bit closer. "Seems I wasn't as lucky as I thought."
Luisa picks up her pace slightly, walking alongside Quinn as she continues to examine her shoulder. "How'd you manage to do that?"
"Crashed into a window." Quinn answers, her nonchalant tone taking the other woman by surprise. "It was a last minute decision. I braced myself as best I could, but I didn't expect the glass to cut all the way through my uniform."
Luisa's mouth hangs open for a moment. "Is that how you caught him?"
Quinn's expression drops, her brow furrowing as she looks to the back of the strange man — Levi's — head. "Not exactly."
Levi stays silent, walking compliantly behind his two friends, but Quinn can tell that he's been listening.
As the group makes their way back to their horses, Quinn spots a second carriage lined up behind the original one — most likely to transport their newest recruits. She heads to the back where their supplies are stored and begins to sift through her personal pack, feeling around for a first aid kit. Just as she finds what she's looking for, Erwin's voice calls out from behind her. "Strober, I want you to ride with the new recruits. They're unarmed, so I imagine you won't have much trouble keeping an eye on them."
Quinn turns around with a look of surprise. "Me? But – sir, don't you think–"
"That's an order, soldier."
Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Quinn straightens her posture and gives the commander a half-hearted salute. "Yes, sir."
Erwin gives her a curt nod and turns away to head back to his carriage, when Quinn hastily speaks up with a question. "With all due respect, sir, can I have a moment to tend to my wound before we set off?"
The commander stops walking, but doesn't turn to face her. "Do it on the way." he replies, then resumes his approach towards Miche and the others. "I want these recruits processed by morning."
Quinn is left with a look of disbelief on her face and a brand new collection of questions swirling in her head. Why would she be put in charge of watching over these people when Erwin has plenty of other capable soldiers at his disposal — soldiers who he surely trusts more than her?
And why can't the bastard at least let her clean up her arm first?
Letting out a slow, defeated sigh, Quinn tucks the first aid kit under her arm and digs out a few more things from her bag in preparation for their trip. It's going to take all night to get back to HQ from Mitras, and she'd rather not have the time pass just as slow as it did during the trip there. She also removes the stained cloak from her shoulders and stuffs it into her pack before making her way back to the other carriage.
The three captives are already loaded into the wagon's small cabin, with the two men sitting on one side, leaving the girl — Isabel, if Quinn remembers correctly — for her to sit next to. This was preferable anyways, at least more so than getting stuck next to a man she didn't know. Or even better, the man who held a knife to her throat just a few minutes ago.
The door to the cab shuts behind them, enveloping the space in a tense silence. A few moments pass before Quinn starts to move, popping her medkit open in her lap. "Sorry in advance if blood bothers anyone. The commander wouldn't let me patch up before we left."
There's no response from the others – not even so much as a glance. Isabel is too preoccupied with the window, gawking at Mitras' grand architecture. The blonde man, Furlan, averts his eyes with a hint of unease. Then, sitting across from Quinn is Levi, arms crossed with an angry glare as he stares out the other window.
Quinn winces as she shrugs off her jacket and rolls up her sleeve, exposing the injury on her shoulder to the cool evening air. She identifies the source of her pain — a sizable shard of glass that appeared to cut straight through the leather of her jacket and embedded itself in her skin. Covering her fingers with a small bandage cloth, Quinn holds her breath and carefully eases the shard free, leaving an ugly gash in its wake.
Great. She was definitely going to need stitches, which isn't exactly the easiest thing to do in a horse-drawn carriage. However, there was no way she could leave the wound open until they got back — not with how filthy that window looked. Pressing her lips together in frustration, Quinn shuffles through the medical supplies for a few seconds before finding a suture kit. She manages to get a few stitches in before they hit their first bump, causing Quinn's hand to slip mid-motion and nearly rip the sharp needle through her skin. The sudden jolt causes her breath to hitch in her throat, suppressing a small yelp of pain. Despite her best efforts, the sound catches the attention of the others. Even Isabel stops gawking out the window to turn her attention back to her.
Quinn can feel the edges of her cheeks warm with embarrassment. She takes a moment to grasp the end of the needle between her teeth, freeing the use of her only hand to pull out another cloth and wipe away the fresh trail of blood.
"That's disgusting," a voice gripes from across the carriage. Quinn looks from her arm to Levi, who's staring at her with his nose turned up in disgust. "You're gonna get it infected, putting that needle in your filthy mouth."
Quinn rolls her eyes in response, looking back to her wound and continuing to blot away the blood. "Well, I don't exactly have two hands." she grumbles, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
"I can do it!" Isabel suddenly interjects from her side, surprising both Quinn and the boys by breaking her silence. "I've done stitches plenty of times. Let me help!"
Quinn takes a moment to consider her options, looking at Isabel with wary eyes before deciding that nearly anyone could do a better job than her right now. She offers the needle and thread to Isabel, who takes them from her eagerly. It's only after relinquishing control that Quinn notices the uncertain looks on both Levi's and Furlan's faces.
Isabel works slowly, getting through a single stitch before their wagon hit another bump, causing the girl to jab the needle straight into tQuinn's exposed flesh. A sharp grunt of pain catches in Quinn's throat.
"Sorry!" Isabel winces, starting to look a bit apprehensive. She takes a moment to gather herself before continuing.
Bump, stab.
"Sorry!"
Bump, stab.
"I'm sorry!"
Stitch, stitch, bump, stab.
"I'm so sor-"
"Dammit," Levi groans in frustration, pressing his palm against his face. "Isabel, move. I'll fucking do it."
Without waiting for any kind of response from Quinn, Isabel and Levi shift past each other and switch seats. Without a word, Levi snatches the first aid kit from Quinn's lap and pulls out two more pieces of cloth and a small vial of alcohol. He dampens the first cloth and begins meticulously scrubbing each finger, surprising Quinn with his attention to detail, before discarding the soiled cloth to the side. He pours a bit more alcohol onto another bandage and turns his attention back to Quinn's arm.
"This is gonna hurt." he says just a split second before pressing the soaked pad against Quinn's wound. She flinches away from him with a hiss of pain, causing him to glare at her in annoyance and press even harder. He holds the cloth in place for a few seconds before removing it.
He discards the second rag along with the first and retrieves a fresh needle, threading it with ease despite the uneven road. Having the same man who wanted to kill her just minutes ago tend to her wounds was less than ideal, but Quinn was impressed by the calculated movements as he began to weave the needle and thread through her skin, pausing and adjusting with each bump in the road as if he were some kind of psychic. His eyes stay fixated on Quinn's wound, and before she knows it, he's finished, grabbing a roll of gauze from the medkit before and it up neatly.
"I would hope you at least have the capability to put this on yourself." he says begrudgingly as he hands Quinn the roll of bandages. She still feels a bit stunned by the whole situation, but she accepts the roll with a small nod.
"Thank you." she says to Levi after he and Isabel move back to their respective seats, watching as he settles into the same brooding stance.
"Don't thank me, Scout." Levi replies with a bitter tone. "I just didn't want you bleeding all over the place."
Quinn responds with a hum, giving Levi an unconvinced look but remaining silent. If he doesn't want to talk about it — or about anything right now — she's definitely not going to push for it. After all, they did just essentially get kidnapped from their home. Regardless of how rundown said home might've seemed, leaving everything you know behind can't be easy.
After securely wrapping her arm, Quinn readjusts her sleeve and slips her military jacket back on. Reaching to her side, she grabs the small leather journal she retrieved from her pack earlier, crossing her legs and supporting the book with her knee. A worn stub of a pencil is strapped behind the spine, which Quinn tucks between her fingers as she flips through the pages.
It doesn't take long for Isabel to turn her attention back to the cabin, evidently over the novelty of the window. Within a couple of seconds, Quinn's book catches her eye. "Whatcha doing?"
Levi and Furlan simultaneously shoot an irritated look towards Isabel, silently scolding her, but she doesn't seem to pay them any attention. Quinn looks up from her book and directs her attention to the younger woman. "Logging," she replies succinctly. "Labeling some things from our last expedition."
Isabel seems unsatisfied with Quinn's answer, craning her neck just enough to peek down at the contents of the journal. She's met with several small drawings of various subjects, from unfamiliar plants to strange looking animals she had never seen before. Some of the illustrations have a small bubble of text next to them, while others are still left with a blank space.
"Do the Scouts use these?" she asks, looking a bit skeptical at the contents of the page. While everything is drawn with impressive detail, it looks far from professional.
"No," Quinn averts her eyes and redirects them back to the book. "They're… personal."
"Ohhh," Isabel says understandably, though it's obvious she's still a little confused. She seems to finally get the hint that Levi and Furlan have been silently conveying her and decides to drop the subject, allowing the cabin to settle back into an uneasy silence.
This was going to be a long twelve hours. A long, long twelve hours.
︎***
A jolt of pain collides with Quinn's temple as a bump rattles her awake, bouncing her head against the carriage window. She winces and curses under her breath, blinking a few times as she tries to orient herself. There's a glimpse of a soft pink sunrise from outside, familiar trees and underbrush passing them by. They're close now — only a few minutes away from HQ. Relief quickly washes over Quinn, though her legs are screaming for some type of movement. She had managed to sleep away the last four hours of their trip, the rest of the time spent in a tension-filled state of silence. Her three fellow passengers appear just as exhausted, with Isabel yawning as she starts to come out of her own nap.
"Are we there yet?" Isabel groans out for the fourth — no, fifth – time since they left, trying desperately to stretch her arms in the cramped space.
Quinn rubs one of her eyes before responding, "Yes, actually. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes now."
A huge sigh of relief escapes the younger girl as she leans back in her seat. Furlan appears just as pleased to hear the news, though he doesn't show it much. Levi, well, he looks exactly the same as he has for the last twelve hours. A permanent scowl seems to be glued on his face, his eyes rarely leaving the floor. The lack of concern from Isabel and Furlan fuels Quinn's suspicions that this might simply be who he is — a brooding type of person who doesn't display much emotion. She's met people like that before, usually among veteran Scouts who've experienced more than their fair share of trauma. It makes her wonder what this man could've gone through all those years underground. Of the three of them, he definitely seems the most worn down – battle hardened.
The group rushes out of the carriage as soon as it comes to a stop, with Quinn taking a moment to stretch each leg and let out a sigh of relief. Looking around, she doesn't see Erwin or the others, which is unusual given the fact that they should've been traveling together. Hearing the sound of the horses riding away, she turns back to face the others. "Stay here, I'm gonna find someone who can help get you guys processed."
The three give her a silent nod in agreement, and Quinn makes her way inside the enormous castle that was the Scout Regiment's headquarters. She quickly spots Commander Erwin in the entrance corridor, whom she gives a firm salute to as soon as she catches his eye. He surprises Quinn by greeting her with a smile, the ever confusing man that he is.
"Ah, Ms. Strober," Erwin greets her in a lighthearted tone. "I assume our new recruits arrived without any issues?"
Quinn gives him a firm nod. "Yes sir, I have them waiting out in the courtyard."
"Perfect," Erwin replies, motioning his head for Miche to follow him. "We still have a few hours before morning assembly. I believe you've more than earned your rest, soldier." he offers her as parting words before making his way outside, effectively dismissing her.
A wave of relief washes over Quinn, her sore muscles pleading for a bed. Quinn makes her way to her personal room in the far east wing of the barracks — a perk extended only to highly esteemed soldiers. The living space was small, accommodating only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk cluttered with various pieces of paper and pencils worn down to the nub. For once, Quinn can't be bothered to hang her gear properly, tugging at her leather straps in desperation. As soon as she frees herself from her uniform, she collapses face first onto her mattress with a groan. She can't remember the last time she endured such a long trip — hell, that might've been the longest trip she's ever been on. Regardless, it was definitely the most confusing. There's still dozens of questions buzzing around in Quinn's head, but she can't be bothered to sort them out right now. After her eyes flutter shut, it only takes a few seconds for Quinn to slip into a deep sleep.
︎***
It took less than an hour for the Scouts to get Levi's group processed, fitting each of them with uniforms of their own. The clothing was worn, and the quality of the leather was shoddy. Levi made a mental note to give them a proper scrubbing the first chance he got.
After a few of their new superior officers were finished interrogating them, the three were left in a dusty room filled with old crates. Erwin had informed them that Commander Shadis wouldn't be available for at least an hour, and that they were to stay put until he arrived. Not that they had much of a choice, as they heard the unmistakable click of a lock behind them.
"I can't believe they've got us locked up in this glorified storage closet." Isabel grumbles as she hops onto one of the wooden boxes.
Levi leans against a nearby window frame, crossing his arms as he glances out at the vacant courtyard. "This place looks like shit."
Furlan stands himself next to the other man, gazing out the same window with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "It could be worse," he insists in an optimistic tone. "At least we've finally made it to the surface."
Levi's scowl hardens as he tears his eyes away from the pane of glass that displayed the outside world. The golden sunlight, the sway of the trees, the vibrant green of the grass — the wonder is quickly lost on him as he's reminded of their true intentions. "Like I said, Furlan, I've got no intention of enlisting."
A small sigh leaves the other man as he turns his head back toward Levi. "Look, can we just focus on what's in front of us?" he asks, attempting to give his friends a convincing look. "We're all in agreement that we'll be playing along for now, right?"
Levi's jaw tightens for a moment before he answers. "Yeah, for now." he mutters, allowing himself to finally turn his gaze back toward the window. "But like I said, if the opportunity presents itself, that smug bastard is as good as —"
His words cut off abruptly as something behind Furlan catches his eyes — a flash of old leather in Isabel's hand.
"Isabel… " Levi starts in a wary tone as he approaches the girl, pushing himself past Furlan. "What the hell is that?"
Isabel's eyes widen as she looks up from the object hanging open in her hands – a journal. That very same journal that one particular Scout was aimlessly scribbling in on their way here.
"She just left it there, Levi!" Isabel's pitch raises defensively. "If I hadn't picked it up, it would've just rode away with the wagon!"
Levi grits his teeth in frustration as he rips the book out of the girl's hands. "Then you should've let it. We're dealing with enough as it is, you wanna add theft to our shit list?
"But look," Isabel insists as she takes the journal back, opening and shoving it toward Levi while flipping through the pages. "There's so much stuff in here! So many plants and animals I've never even heard of! And here," Isabel pauses as she skims towards the back of the book, where the illustrations of wildlife change into depictions of human faces.
There's a lot of them, most of them dressed in the Scout Regiment's uniform, with nothing but a name written next to them.
Despite them all being complete strangers, looking at them gives Levi an uneasy feeling.
"Who do you think all these people are?" Isabel asks, examining each face one by one.
Levi snatches the book again and snaps it shut. "Doesn't matter," he says as he stuffs the journal in his jacket's inner pocket. "Now we gotta find a place to toss this thing."
"Hang on, Levi," Isabel interjects. "I get the feeling that that thing is really important to that woman."
"And?" Levi's agitation is evident on his face. "All the more reason we should get rid of it. You think she's gonna be fine with us waltzing up and handing it over?"
"Maybe!" the redhead insists. "She seems a lot nicer than most of the people we've met so far, maybe she would be grateful!"
"Grateful my ass." Levi huffs. "Everyone we've met since we got here has been a complete jackass."
Isabel's facial expression grows more serious. "While we're here, it'd be smart to have a couple of people on our side. If we're going to keep our cover, we can't alienate ourselves completely! We have to blend in." she pauses for a moment to extend an open hand to Levi. "Look, just give it to me. I'm the one who took it, I'll give it back."
"No." Levi snaps back. "We aren't about to trust one of these Scouts on the off chance she's feeling a little nice. Those higher ups are dying for a reason to throw us to the MPs. You wanna make friends? Find another way. We're tossing the thing."
Isabel knows there's no more point in trying to argue, knowing that Levi isn't one to be easily convinced when he's made up his mind — especially when it comes to their safety. If they got rid of the evidence, they know that any accusation that girl might make against them won't hold up.
"Fine," she surrenders with a sigh. "But don't think this won't have consequences of its own. Like I said, that book seems important."
Levi offers nothing but silence in response.
*︎**
Soft sunlight dances off pale blue curtains, illuminating worn chairs and cascading across a freshly sanded table. There's a soft commotion just beyond the glass window, where children laugh joyfully. Jericho, Quinn thinks, as memories of her little brother flood her mind. A warm hand caresses hers from across the table. A faint aroma of green tea swirls around her head.
It was lovely. It was peace. Ethereal peace.
And then a loud banging against her door rips Quinn back to reality.
"What?" she groans dramatically as she lifts her head from the pillow. She doesn't need to ask to know exactly who's on the other side of that door. Only one person would wake her up so brazenly. "What the hell is it, Hange?"
"I'm coming in!" a loud voice calls from the other side of the door before it's promptly swung open. Quinn had learned a long time ago that respect for privacy was few and far between when it came to her eccentric friend. "We've only got 20 minutes before Shadis wants us outside, and I have questions! Several questions! Specifically about our new friends from the Underground!"
Hange is already buzzing with energy, while Quinn is trying her best to refocus her eyes, sitting up in her bed with a groan. "I'd hold off on calling them friends, Hange. They weren't exactly jumping for joy when Erwin recruited them."
"Is it true that one of them outran you? And slammed you into a window?!"
"I see someone on Erwin's squad has a big mouth."
"Come onnn, I need details! You wouldn't keep secrets from your closest friend in the entire world, would you?"
Their last comment makes Quinn snort in amusement. Exaggerating as they were, Hange wasn't exactly wrong. Quinn's willingness to listen to their rambling had landed her in the "best friend" seat since they were cadets.
They're also the only two still around from their graduating class.
"Well for starters, he didn't throw me through a window, I threw myself." Quinn grumbles as she stretches her arms, rolling her injured one a couple of times as she tests it for pain.
"He, okay, so the feisty one is a man, got it." Hange says thoughtfully, as if they were trying to decipher a puzzle. "I've heard he's short. Is it true that he's short?"
Quinn shrugs her shoulders. "I guess, yeah. He was pretty short."
"Shorter than you?"
Quinn glares at Hange in annoyance. "… No."
Her friend's cackle is almost embarrassing.
"He's only got like, three inches on me! Four at the most!"
Hange's laughter doesn't let up. Quinn chucks a pillow at her friend, who lets out an exaggerated "ow" before continuing.
"So he's got two friends, right? A boy and a girl? I've heard the girl is pretty young, almost a cadet's age. What about the others? Do you know how old they are?"
"Hange," Quinn exclaims with a sigh, her lingering grogginess making her more irritable than usual. "I have no idea, okay? It's not like I had an actual conversation with them."
"But I thought you were the one who escorted them back?" Hange asks in confusion, taking it upon themselves to sit at Quinn's desk. "What'd you do for those twelve hours if you didn't talk?"
Quinn swings her legs over the edge of her bed, grabbing for the uniform pants she had carelessly tossed on the floor. "What do you think? I drew in my jour-"
Her blood runs ice cold, every muscle in Quinn's body freezing in place.
Her journal.
She doesn't remember grabbing it from the carriage.
"Fuck," Quinn hisses as she jumps up and lunges toward her desk, practically shoving Hange out of their chair as she scours the surface, hastily opening and shutting every drawer.
"Hey!" Hange exclaims as they jump back. "What the hell? What's wrong?"
Quinn continues to rummage for a few more seconds before slapping both of her hands on the desk, panic building slowly in her chest. "My journal. I forgot it in the wagon."
Hange looks just as stunned as she does. "You mean your one with all the-?"
"Yeah." Quinn interjects in response. "That one."
Hange gasps dramatically from behind her. "I told you you should've gotten a separate journal for that stuff!"
"I know." Quinn groans in defeat. "I know, but I never have the time to copy all that stuff over. I can't afford to not have those notes out in the field." She runs a hand over her face before turning back to Hange. "Do you have any idea where those carriages go when we aren't using them?"
Hange shrugs apologetically. "I have no idea. I think they rent them out from a fancy company when they take their trips to the interior."
"Dammit," Quinn sighs as she flops back onto her bed, arms splayed as she stares up at the ceiling. Her panic slowly fades into overwhelming sadness. "They're gone. There's no way in hell I'll be able to get it back."
"Maybe you can ask Commander Erwin?" Hange suggests. "Or maybe you can ask one of those new recruits about it? Do you think one of them would've taken it?"
Quinn takes a moment to consider Hange's words. Isabel did seem interested in the journal when Quinn had first pulled it out, but that interest seemed to disappear quickly. Other than that, none of them paid her any mind.
"I don't know. Maybe. But I'm not sure I want to approach them about that." Quinn responds as she sits upright. "I don't want them to think I'm accusing them of anything. I imagine they've already faced a lot of scrutiny from the others, I don't want them to think I'm calling them thieves."
"But that's what they were, right? Before you and Erwin's gang went and stopped them."
Quinn looks back at Hange, her face forming into a scowl. "Well, yeah, but I think it's more complicated than that. They were stealing from some fat merchants down there who purposefully hoard all of the resources. Stealing a book seems a little juvenile compared to that."
"I guess you're right," her friend agrees. "but still, it might be worth asking them about it."
Before Quinn can respond, Hange turns around and starts approaching the door to Quinn's room. "I wish you best of luck, friend! I'll see you later, Shadis wants us outside in ten!"
Quinn jumps to her feet with a startled "shit" as she starts to rummage for her clothes in a hurry. Despite her rush, Quinn's mind still feels jaded, and she can't help but ponder on what Hange said. She imagines that if she approaches the new group outright, she'll be met with hostility – mainly from their ill-tempered leader.
She reaches a hand up to her neck, fingers ghosting over the skin that Levi had held his blade against just yesterday.
She can't help but wonder what was going through his head in that split second of consideration.
Why the hell would a man like him hesitate?
That same hand moves down to her shoulder, brushing against the tender surface of her wound.
It aches.