Ch. 104 - Absences That Cannot be Filled

"You're lucky I'm even letting you do this," Julie said, taking one of my hands in hers, having to lean up to reach me, seated up in the wagon as I was. 

She squeezed my hand gently in a comforting sort of way, and suddenly it felt like everything would be ok. My mind briefly wondered if this was what it felt like to have a mother. It must be, because it was so instinctual that I thought it, so natural and so comfortable. I didn't have time to dwell on it, though. Very much like any mother, she continued on, prattling in a doting way that made me feel like she had everything under control.

"Your wounds are still very sensitive," she continued. "But I shouldn't have to tell you that, should I?"

It was rhetorical, I knew that. And yet I smiled anyway. Before I could say anything, her husband piped up. "You heard what the doctor said, didn't you, Jules? Of course she doesn't. She doesn't let others worry over her, so she probably hasn't internalized the idea of staying put and letting wounds heal just yet."

"Ouch," I said with a laugh, even as Julie sent a pointed and accusatory look towards her husband - a look I sent Levi often. Oh yes, I knew that look, because I was well-versed in it. It was the look that told him that she didn't appreciate that comment and would bring it up in conversation later.

"I've packed medicine for you, and bandages too," she said to me, still glaring away at her husband. With her point across, she returned her gaze to me, so caring and affectionate it was hard to believe she was just glaring daggers at her husband. "Try not to move around too much in the carriage, and please, please use the crutch I've given you. Oh, and there would be doctors at your base back home, right? Please, tell me you'll go and see them regularly."

"I will," I assured her. "Don't worry, I will."

"You really shouldn't be going anywhere right now," her husband Samuel noted. "But in just living here, I've grown to know you soldier-types. You're stubborn to hell."

"I might've heard that said about me once or twice," I admitted. "I'm no stranger to people telling me that I'm doing things that I'm not supposed to. I just don't know how I'll ever repay you, either of you."

"You don't need to," Julie said with a laugh. "Don't you dare feel obligated to us for making sure you lived. Just be sure to live a good life, ok?"

"I will," I said, and for a moment I might've believed it. It'd certainly be a tough go of things to try and live a good, long life after all of this, but I would try. I had to. I wanted to. Her words were nearly enough to fool me into truly believing it.

Carefully, and with much care, Samuel set the bundle of my personal effects – few though they were – next to me in the carriage. There was my gear, my clothes that Reyes had gotten me, Levi's cloak, and the pile of belts that were still tangled, along with some provisions, water, and the medical supplies Julie had mentioned.

Everything had been washed. Julie had some kind of miracle formula that removed all the blood and muck from the clothing, though perhaps that just came with the experience of having rowdy children to clean up after. But at any rate, she'd even done some light patch-ups for the articles that had rips and tears, aided by one of her two boys.

I'd been changed from that nightgown to a looser dress that Julie had given to me. It was large on me, and had needed to be tied to a cinch at my waist with a strip of thin fabric. It was white, floral, and very pretty. Only a few pink flowers dappled the dress; it wasn't overdone, and I found that I rather liked it... and that I didn't mind stealing it away from her.

It was admittedly a strange look when matched with my uniform boots with my knife hidden inside, but I was grateful for just the small blessing to have clean clothes on my back.

"There, now," Samuel said with a broad grin once they were set down. "You're all set. Elijah here will see you safely to your destination."

"Thank you both so much," I said. "I'll see about getting more hands out here to assist with the cleanup effort."

"Don't worry about it," Samuel said. "We're a hardy bunch out here. Besides, aren't most of them busy in Shiganshina? I think we got off relatively well, all things considered."

I nodded at him, though made the mental note to check for any extra hands that could be sent here, anyway. Julie released my hand and stepped away. "Safe travels," Julie said warmly. "Best of luck to you and your family."

"To yours, as well," I replied. "You have a beautiful one; please keep it safe."

"I hope our paths cross again one day," she said. "It was an honor to help you, captain."

I wasn't sure why the use of my title had me tearing up, but it did. I nodded through a watery smile, deciding against speaking more, or run the risk of openly crying.

"All set, Eli," Samuel said. He closed the carriage door, and I shifted slightly in my seat to get comfortable as the carriage lurched forward, marking the beginning of the journey. I twisted to look back at the family out the window as we rode away, and with a smile I waved back to the kids who looked terribly sad to see me go.

They were a lovely family, to be sure. Endlessly kind and generous, with love pouring out of their hearts in such a way that they felt the need to help a soldier that had been an unwelcome guest in their home. One that had gotten tortured right in their living room, staining the room indefinitely. But they all wore brave faces when looking at me and helped me to the best of their abilities.

That was a kindness that I could never repay.

No amount of money I could ever make would be enough to account for them saving my life and not leaving me to bleed out on their floor once the Yeagerists took off to investigate what had happened at the harbor, leaving the job unfinished and me to die. There weren't enough presents in the world to make up for the scare that the whole ordeal had granted them. No number of words could possibly portray my gratitude for them.

It was because of them that I was alive. If they'd done the smart thing and left me to die, instead of helping me as they did and running the risk of the Yeagerists returning and harming them in return for what they did, I'd be dead. If they acted with their own self-interest as their top priority, I'd have been left there to suffer until I died.

But they didn't. They chose, bravely yet horribly stupidly, to save me.

They didn't think about the potential consequences if the soldiers had returned to finish the job. They didn't think that maybe I was a bad person, maybe even the one in the wrong and deserving of the treatment I was receiving. They didn't think that maybe hearing my pained screams were enough for their kids to have nightmares for months, and maybe even years.

Because this was war, and a little bit of kindness could go a long way.

Because this was war, and we would all be scarred by the end of it if we weren't already.

Because their kids had the right to know just how horribly people could treat others, but also because they could show just how wonderfully people could treat each other.

Because they knew that I would never be able to repay them for my life.

There was no way to quantify a life. Material things were nothing in the face of the natural gift of getting to see another day. If there was one thing that unified everyone in this world, it was that we were all born here. All of us had been granted the grandest gift of all: life.

Borders and allegiances meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. In a constantly shifting universe, there was but one constant for us. We were all human. Maybe not of the same race, religion, gender, sexuality, or moral compass, but we were all human. With beating hearts, full of love.

That was the best thing life could bestow upon us: love.

Life granted us a chance at finding love. Platonic, familial, romantic. Love as a driving force was much stronger than hate.

It was why Mimi hesitated to kill me. She once looked up to me. Her hands had been shaking because how could she kill someone who had taken her under their wing so readily and maintain her conscience?

Conversely, it was why I did not hesitate to kill who I had. I had a family to return to. It was painful to admit but I'd go through so many to return to my family. So many had already fallen by my hand. Familiar faces would not get in my way to returning to them.

...Not that I was proud of that.

Those people felt love, too. For different people, and in different ways, but everyone loved something. Everyone loved someone. And everyone is loved. For so long I'd battled with the idea of whether my love was worth destroying the love of others.

But in a world where bloodshed was so common, and it was mine against theirs, I would choose my own every single time, without fail. I'd always been that way. It was just who I was. It was the unfortunate result of growing up where I had.

No, not unfortunate. I couldn't call it unfortunate, not when it meant that I was so much better at fighting to return to what I did love. If being a bad person meant that I would have a better shot at protecting my daughter and husband, then so be it. I could not be ashamed of what gave me an edge in this world, no matter how terrible. They were far and few between, anyway. I had to take what I could get and hold tight to it.

I was not a good person. At my core, I was a criminal, a killer. I'd always lived with the intent to protect who I loved and help who I can but when it came to it, I was not above violence, and I was not above killing. I could take a life so easily.

At certain points in my life I prided myself on it, to allow it to prove my worth as a soldier in a global conflict. Killing came easily to me, just as it came easily to my husband. The act of killing itself was something we'd gotten used to. The consequences of if were what we continued to struggle with.

And yet despite all of that, we created life. Our beautiful little girl who even now was waiting for us to come home. I might not have fulfilled my promise to her, in bringing her father home with me, but he was... not dead. I was sure of it. My heart and soul were so finely tuned to his that I was sure I would be able to tell if he had died. Our lives were so entwined, so uniquely intertwined that I would feel if the connection wavered.

Even if it wasn't true, it was what I chose to believe, because I didn't have any other option. I couldn't let myself think that he was dead. Not yet.

Believing that would mean that my anchor would have been lifted out of the sea, and I would be left adrift. It would mean that the tree that was his being had been uprooted, lifting with it so many of my own roots, close as we were. It would mean that I would be lost at sea without my guiding light, that singular star that was always there to lead me home.

I couldn't afford to think like that right now.

I had to be strong for Emiko. That little girl thought the world and more of me and I couldn't let her down. She was already so strong, to be without her parents for even this long. She'd been without her father longer. No apology could ever make up for it, for our extended absence.

For Levi, it'd only been just over a month or so, and for me, only a few precious days. To us, those were not long lengths of time, not compared to what we'd already lived through. But to a little girl, it must've felt like a lifetime. I just couldn't wait to get back home to her.

For the many thousands of things that Levi and I had done wrong, there was one thing that we'd done right in this world and that had been making Emiko. She was our salvation. Our lifeline. Our gift to a world that had done very little except take from us. Our offering, to show that we could do something other than hurt. We could love, we could cherish, we could raise. Instead of taking, we could give. Instead of taking a life, we could grant one.

We could raise her to be better than us. We fought to provide for her. To make this world a little safer than it had been for us. We'd been fighting to make a world suitable for her to grow up in. We were leaving the world for her, and her generation, to do what they pleased with it. We fought to make the world safe for her to live in. The last thing for us to do now was let her see it, to grow up in the world we'd done our best to prepare for her.

The fighting for Levi was not quite done yet. I was sure of it. But once it was...

Finally, we could be a family again. Perhaps then our consciences would be content with the sins we'd committed, and we could finally be a regular family. Because we knew that really, we were just pretending to be a normal family.

We tried our best to appear normal but how normal could we really be with two criminal-turned-soldiers as parents, with an innocent little girl?

Maybe knowing that we'd done our part to try to save the world would finally be enough for us to be content. Happy. And we could hang up our cloaks for good, store away our gear, stash the uniforms in the closet, and only ever see them in passing. Maybe we could finally retire our Wings. The goddesses only knew how hard we'd worked. We'd waited long enough to see the fruits of our labor. We'd been patient enough.

We had Emi, the beautiful culmination of our love. All we needed now was the culmination of our hard work: a safe world for her to inherit.

Once upon a time, I'd been granted the nickname mother of the scouts because of how I cared for everyone else before myself, because I reminded everyone of an overly doting mother. I could only hope that even with my time away, that one day Emi would understand why I had done what I had done, and that I could even be half as good of a mother to her as I had apparently become for the scouts.

I hoped she could one day forgive me, and see me as her loving, caring, overly doting mother. I could only hope because I certainly didn't feel like it right now. Everything I did was for her and Levi. I could only hope that one day she could understand and forgive me for everything that I had done.

—

It was a long boat ride to the continent.

It was a somber affair, chasing after their destination, seeing the far-off steam of the Rumbling and knowing that it was an ever-constant threat, killing thousands even as they watched from afar as they went as fast as physically possible to reach land.

If anything else, it granted time to rest. Precious, fleeting time to rest. To recover. To decompress, even just a bit. A lot had happened since they all woke up this morning. And a lot more would happen before they went to bed. Granted they'd be granted the time to, of course. Sleeping was a precious luxury nowadays.

Many of them on the boat had bore witness to the ship exploding. They knew immediately the cause of it. Magath had sacrificed himself so that the Yeagerists couldn't take the boat and catch up with them. It was a noble sacrifice, one that none of them had thought to make, simply because they'd been so caught up in making sure that everyone else could make it to the boat.

Magath, so selfless, had taken it upon himself to ensure that they couldn't get chased, get caught, and get stopped. His noble sacrifice only accounted for one missing person, however. There was one other person that remained a mystery, and it ate away at quite a few of the people onboard.

Annie, having never joined the scouts or been particularly interested in them, hadn't ever paid attention to the names of those who served and operated under their banner. She soon came to know the name Levi, and that name was often accompanied by Amaya's. With what she needed to do as a Warrior, those names were little more than obstacles that she would have to take care of. She hadn't taken care of them. They'd been better adversaries than she thought possible.

She wasn't exactly close with Levi or Amaya from the short time spent with the Alliance so far. She wasn't one for socializing much anyway, but she knew enough from what Armin had told her to know that the married pair were inseparable. Well, until now, of course. Annie couldn't quite find it in herself to care about what had happened to the captain, but if she was as strong of a soldier as Armin and the others had made her out to be, then she might've been some help on the next leg of their journey. She knew they could use the help right now. It didn't matter from who.

There was nothing to be done about it now, but even she could tell that the mood of the group had gone down drastically, especially among those of her cadet corps class. Still, this was war. She had somebody she needed to get home to and save, so she would do what she needed to. If Amaya had helped during this past battle, fine. But she wasn't here now, and that was all she needed to know.

Reiner's brief stint with the Survey Corps ensured that he'd met with the captain on a couple of occasions. She was a pretty woman, not quite the deity that Historia was but Levi was definitely a lucky man. She was strong too, that was certain, and unwavering in the face of danger. He'd seen it firsthand when they fought atop the wall.

Knowing her record and hearing nothing but praise about her from everyone he'd asked when he was only but a simple soldier bearing the wings on his back, he considered himself lucky to have never fought her directly. He was sure that if she'd been there alongside Levi when they came to reclaim Wall Maria from them, she wouldn't have pulled back when her husband did. She'd have finished the job. The look she'd given him when she first saw him with the rest of the Alliance had told him that much.

But strangely enough he found that as last night went on, the animosity in her eyes for those across the fire from her, meaning those from across the sea, had faded. It had been replaced with the same tenderness that she had in her eyes when she regarded any of the others; the ones she had grown to love like her own family. It was strange. But they met eyes once; he knew well the eyes of someone who would more than willingly offer up their own life if it provided a chance for their loved ones to have a better chance. He knew, because he had them. And so did she.

Gabi hadn't really thought much about her, to be frank. Not in the beginning, anyway. There'd been no need to, and there'd been a lot of other things on her mind. The first time she'd seen the captain was just after she shot that woman – Sasha – in the airship. None of them had been happy with her, for obvious reasons. That woman, especially. God, she'd looked at her like she'd killed her own child. Not like she cared at that moment as it happened, but now...

These people weren't devils. That included her. Maybe one day, the woman might forgive her. Or maybe she didn't deserve even that measure of kindness. She was working to make up for it now. She had to. It was all she could do right now. Work for the forgiveness of these people... her people. Her own flesh and blood, no worse than she was, and no better. They were the same. She only wished she could make things right. Maybe then the eyes of the woman would look upon her kindly, and not with disdain.

Falco wasn't quite able to focus on anything right now. He was exhausted, that much he knew. From the few fleeting moments that he was awake, he was able to pick up on a few things: one, Magath was gone. Two, so was that woman. By then he had committed the name to memory: Amaya, the wife of the man he so feared, who Zeke had warned them to fear. But she had been so kind. In his sleep-addled mind, he was able to recall how he'd been reminded of his mother. He could almost hear her voice, if he focused. She really did remind him of his mother.

Oh, his mother... so far away. And in danger. For a few precious minutes last night, he'd felt like he was there with her again. He missed his mother. And his brother, his father, and the rest of his family. Things were so messy now, and he'd stolen a Titan, and everything was just going wrong. He wished now that he'd sat and talked with that woman a little longer, maybe even asked for a hug. She'd given one before that battle in Shiganshina so easily. Maybe she'd have given another, if he asked nicely. He sure could use one right about now.

Pieck had only met Levi a few days ago and had found out that he had a wife through Hange's quick explanation. She didn't know much about Levi, but she figured that if he were to have a spouse, someone strong would have to do. And in just meeting Amaya, she could tell that she fit the bill.

She carried herself with a sense of pride, and one of power. And yet she even seemed amicable, sociable. She also seemed to regard everyone - even Magath, someone who for so long scorned those from this island and had her dirty blood - with respect. To offer respect even to those who didn't return it... she was strong. That was certain.

Maybe in another life, they could've been friends. From the short time she'd known her, Pieck thought that maybe they could've become close, very close. Not now, though. As far as they knew, Amaya's story was yet another tragedy. And they had to carry on.

Onyankopon found the news hard to believe. Since arriving on the island, Amaya had been there. She was something of a constant, someone that was just always there if you needed her, and even if you didn't. He'd spent so much time on the island that she became a close friend. It always helped to have a friend. She became one, for him. Now he could only worry that he hadn't been one for her. He resolved to ensure that he had been. After all, she'd helped him a whole hell of a lot over the past few years.

He didn't think he'd repaid the favor. Not yet, anyway. He'd just have to do it after the war. Because she wasn't dead. She wasn't. Not Amaya. Amaya Ackerman? No way, she couldn't die. Not to Yeagerists, in any case. And certainly not yet, because he had some favors to repay. Kindness was often hard to come by, when you're a lowly immigrant volunteer on a strange land. But she'd accepted them with open arms. That was a debt he had to repay, somehow.

Yelena simply couldn't bring herself to care about someone she hardly knew. Over the years she knew that Amaya hadn't trusted her entirely. It was there, hidden in the back of her eyes. And she'd been right to, certainly, but with eyes like hers it was easy to tell who she trusted and who she didn't. Yelena knew she hadn't made the cut, not entirely. Oh, well. Whether she was alive or not didn't matter that much to her. Nothing did, save for being present for what was about to happen.

Connie would have cried, if not for how tired he was. They'd all grown up hearing the stories of Captains Levi and Amaya. Meeting them had impressed him more than he thought it would. Joining their squad had been nothing short of an absolute privilege. There was something about her that was just so welcoming, so friendly, that he found it hard to think of that woman as the same Amaya that he'd heard about. The way she joked around with them, yet was so serious in her training, made her an interesting woman.

There were lots of odd ducks in the scouts, and she was no exception. But it was a good thing, definitely. He could remember the afternoons on the training grounds with the whole squad, but when Levi turned in, that's when she took over and things became fun. Training became more about bonding for them and it was a welcome reprieve from the regular, grueling drills. She couldn't be gone, could she? First Sasha, and now... No. That couldn't be right.

Mikasa didn't really know what to think when Jean told them what happened. Captain Amaya was dependable. She was strong. Would she really allow herself to fall here? Mikasa knew damn well that fighting was unpredictable. It didn't matter if Amaya would allow herself to fall, because sometimes... sometimes it just took someone down anyway. It's how the world was. She'd been around death for so long, it shouldn't have been hard to think about. She'd known death since she was a little girl.

But it was still hard to think about. With each person that passed, it left behind a new scar in her heart, a new hollow never to be filled by another. It'd happened time and time again, so she shouldn't have been surprised. She was certainly no fan of the runt, but Amaya was his wife, and therefore extended family. Emi, too. Even without being married to Levi, Amaya was a trusted ally. A friend. A... mother-figure, which she hadn't had for a long, long time. Perhaps she was destined to be without one.

Armin, much like Mikasa, couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Amaya was... gone. Gone. What did that even mean? Jean's explanation had been so frustratingly vague. What did he mean, she was there one moment, and gone the next? This was Captain Amaya that he was talking about. She was strong. Smart. Agile. Surely, they wouldn't lose her. Right?

As smart as he was, he couldn't figure out a way to rationalize his thoughts, to slow it down. All he could think about was how much everything went wrong. All of it. And through it all, there was one constant. They continued to lose people. Magath had sacrificed himself, that was clear. What was unclear was what had happened to Amaya. He couldn't accept that she'd died. Not if no one had seen it. That was the hope he resolved to hold onto, until proven otherwise.

Hange felt nothing but guilt. She had been the one to give her the order to stay where she was, to continue offering cover fire. And it was a good idea, in theory. She hadn't anticipated that the Yeagerists would get backup from behind. Worse yet, she hadn't relieved Amaya of her duties far earlier. Not for a lack of trying, of course. But whenever she wanted to write the order, to formally sign that Amaya was to be relieved from the Scouts, pulled from the front lines, she felt much the same as she did now. Guilty. So she never did it. It would break Amaya's heart.

Amaya was her best friend. Had been for years. She was a research partner, a trusted confidant, and someone to make her laugh when she needed it. She knew how badly Amaya wanted to fight. She knew that Amaya wouldn't be content to just sit back and let others fight, because that'd never been her style. Amaya had a future she wanted to fight for. She knew that Amaya had a strong sense of duty and underlying in her heart was an awful sense of insecurity to boot. Feeling that she wasn't enough. Not by strength, not by wit, not by leadership capabilities.

Hange had only ever seen her as someone wonderful. To see her live each day with that nagging feeling that she wasn't enough pained her. To take away her chance to prove to herself that she was strong, and smart, and a good leader, and capable? She couldn't do it. And so she let her stay. Now look where it got her. Hange was alive, and her best friend might not be. The guilt was eating her alive.

And Jean... Jean was inconsolable. The other people on the boat had tried to help him, sure, but he wasn't having any of it. If there was anyone he needed to see right now, it was Amaya. Just to see that she was ok. Though maybe Eren was a safe second bet, if only so he could wring his damn neck for letting this happen. Honestly.

He'd seen her. He'd fucking seen her. If only he had been faster. If only he'd been stronger. More aware of his surroundings. More aware of where she was. How many times had she saved his ass? How much had she done for humanity? The least he could have done was help her. As she'd helped everyone else. Levi couldn't very well be at her side during that battle, but he could. And he should've. But he didn't. No one had.

For all the help she'd given others: the advice, the extra training, slipping them extra rations, tending to wounds, offering a safe space to talk if that's what they wanted... They'd never made it up to her. Sure, they said thank you as it happened. But had anyone ever checked on her? Asked if she needed anything, wanted anything?

They'd taken her for granted. True to the rumors about her, she really was the mom of the scouts. And he'd fallen for that trap, too. Taking advantage of her kindness. Believing that maybe she was immune to the world's dangers, because she had the big, pure heart that offered nothing but kindness to those around her.

The worst part was that if she had died, she might've died thinking that they didn't appreciate her. And he couldn't stand to think about that. But that was the thing: he didn't know if she was dead or not. He'd told them all the truth. She'd been there one moment, and then with the next, only a few seconds later once he'd taken care of the Yeagerist in front of him, she'd been gone, as had the Yeagerists with her. He hadn't seen her die. He hadn't seen them kill her. But he hadn't seen that she was safe, either.

And knowing that he was the last person to see her was the worst feeling in the world. No, it wasn't. Worse still was the awful hollow feeling in his heart left by her absence. Normally she'd make the rounds, visiting with everyone to see if they were ok or if they needed anything. No one took up that role now. It wasn't like they had supplies to spare but she'd always offered whatever she had; her own food, her own supplies, her shoulder to cry on, her ear to listen.

She'd have done the same now. No one could fill that space that had emptied with her absence because they'd always assumed that she'd be there. And now that she wasn't, it was like she took with them some of what remained of their humanity. If he was feeling this shitty, he could only imagine how Levi was feeling.

Levi didn't know what he was feeling. Maybe he wasn't feeling anything at all. The only thing he could focus on was her. About what might've happened to her. All those nightmares that he'd had over the years came back to him suddenly. They'd come true. She'd gotten hurt. Taken. Possibly even killed.

And all because he couldn't get to her. If his body weren't so damn injured, and so damn exhausted, he'd have been able to fight to get to her. But he couldn't. All because of that bastard Zeke. That furry bitch had taken far too many things from him already. Countless comrades, which was bad enough. Erwin Smith, which was worse. And now his wife.

Not directly, no, but Zeke had made it so that he couldn't fight. He couldn't be by her side. As Levi sat there in that bed, his eyes scrunched shut as he did all that he could to avoid breaking down completely. He already had, but he couldn't waste more energy on tears. No more.

But it was so hard, because of all the people here, he hadn't expected it to be her to fall. Not when she had fought so hard to even get there. Fate couldn't have honestly been that cruel, could it? But it could. It'd proven that time and time again. He was foolish to think that maybe fate would grant him this one thing. This one safe space, a haven, a respite from the rest of the world, that he found only in her. He was nothing but a fool. And now he was paying the price.

He knew that he had to focus, but while he knew one day that they would both inevitably die, he hadn't expected it to be so soon. It'd always lingered in the back of his mind, that fear that he'd lose her in battle. He'd learned to push it down, to put it away in the heat of the moment. But it had always lingered.

He felt that fear whenever they'd gone into battle, whether it was a routine expedition to purge titans in Wall Maria way back when, or when she went off without him to rescue Historia and the other kids at the castle. He'd felt it when she was giving birth to Emi; giving birth was a risky thing, with so many things that could go wrong. Hell, he'd even felt it in the Underground City, he just hadn't known what the feeling was.

Because it wasn't a general worry. It was intense, deep, running through his veins. He could feel the almost painful throb of his heart whenever she got even the smallest of injuries, the sharp icy fear in his veins when she ventured out of his reach in a battle, and the dull, exhausting ache in his bones when he thought about living on without her.

God damn it, why did he let her go? He knew why, but still his brain battled against his heart. The rational parts of him knew that she was a soldier. A trained soldier, strong and swift and smart. But the emotional parts of him argued that it was his wife, the mother of his daughter. The love of his life, the one that above anyone else he could not lose.

Because losing her meant that he lost a bit of himself. He'd laid his soul bare to her, something he hadn't done with anyone before, nor did he think he could ever do again. He'd shown her his fears. He'd told her about his dreams. He'd trusted her enough to hold his heart.

Never would he ever regret doing any of that, but it was hard not to regret not sending her back home right as he saw her again. He knew she was stubborn. He knew that for as strong as she was, she did not feel it. She did not think that she was as smart as she was, as fast, as capable. She saw herself only as a burden, someone riding on his coattails.

She couldn't have been more wrong, and he couldn't feel as though he hadn't told her that she was all the wonderful things in the world nearly enough. She'd given him all the kindness in the world, and he'd repaid only a fraction of it. She was... nothing less than perfect, in his eyes. She was kindness. She was graciousness. She was forgiveness and she was consideration and patience and she was beauty. Damn it all, she was love. All of it and more, incarnate and ethereal. Endlessly loving, caring, and generous, towards so many.

That was what made her such a strange soldier. That was what made her an oddity among oddities. Everyone loved, but hers ran so deep. Perhaps that was what Elwin had instilled in her from a young age. Among the muck of the city, he'd shown her to love, completely and unashamedly. In turn, she showed that love to others.

Her life could've ended almost as soon as it had started, if not for the bleeding heart of a soldier who couldn't bear to see anyone suffer, much less a child. And so she gave herself to paying it forward to others. She never expected anything in return, because love and life went hand in hand and just seeing others happy filled her heart just as much as it had her father's heart.

Even among the scouts, she was strange. He only wanted to let her know that he was proud of her. That woman who didn't believe she was worth the accolades she received. That woman that had risen the ranks of her regiment without the use of Titan powers or enhanced blood. That woman who was loved by so many, and loved so many.

There was so much love in her heart and so much of it was reserved only for him, and only for Emiko. He'd been so blind to it, to the sensation, before her. Platonic love was something that he even now still struggled with. Romantic love he knew only through her. She'd been his teacher, kindly showing him how.

He couldn't fucking believe that she was gone. His other half, his sweetheart, his love. He wasn't sure when exactly he'd become one to crave that sort of domestic stability, the one that they'd indulged in for the past few years of peace, but he supposed it had something to do with her. Only her. Always her.

With her, he could pretend to be normal. Maybe there was more to him than just a criminal, a soldier, a murderer. She'd shown him that his bloodstained hands could be used to create. That he could love, despite everything he'd ever done. And despite everything she'd done. They'd done so much together – so much good.

And now she was gone. When his tears were spent and his body drifted into a restless sleep, his heart remained awake. In his dreams he could feel her lingering touch, hear her soothing voice. He couldn't tell where his dream ended, and reality began but he could swear that she was there with him.

From behind him, she placed her hands gently over his eyes. It obscured his vision, but it was comforting. He would go anywhere blind if it was her there to lead him. "Sleep, my love," she said.

He had no reason to deny her. He never had. He never would.

And so... he slept.

—

The gentle rocking of the carriage lulled me into a false sense of ease. Eli had told story after story, but when he realized that I wasn't very talkative, he assured me that he was going to go right through the night, and so I could sleep if I wanted to. And that ended his storytelling, but not his light humming, so light I'm sure he didn't realize I could hear it.

I felt bad, and I wished I were being a more gracious guest, but my mind was going far too fast and yet awfully slow, all at the same time. There was so much that I needed to think about, and so much that I wanted to think about, but I was far too tired to consider any of it right now.

I knew I should have stayed alert. Levi and Farlan had taught me never to let your guard down when you were anywhere but in the safety of your own home, or otherwise with someone to watch your back. But I don't think they ever accounted for something like this. Though I supposed that no one had, really.

Maybe someone was watching out for me right now. Elijah was focused on the road, but that's not who I was talking about. Maybe those I've lost were watching over me, so I could rest for a while.

Maybe it was Mike, maybe it was Nanaba or Gelgar, maybe Farlan and Isabel, maybe Sasha. Petra, Olou, Gunther, and Eld might have been watching. Or perhaps Erwin was looking after me for now. Or... Mason. My grandmother, or my parents. Caden. Maybe El.

Oh, El. I hope you're proud of me. Is this what you wanted for your little girl? I fought my hardest, though. And I'm still fighting. I won't ever give up - I'll heed all that you told me. All those sacrifices you made for me were not in vain.

Then, remembering that somewhere, whenever I called for him he was able to hear it, I continued.

El... thank you for everything. I love you so, so much.

And I cannot wait to meet you again, someday. But keep watching me - I'll continue to make you proud.

Content with that for now, I couldn't help but think it might also be Levi and the kids watching over my body as I let my eyes close, and my body relax into the seat, with the cloak under my head as a pillow. If they were dead... at least I could rest easy knowing that those I loved were keeping a close eye on me, offering me this chance to rest.

With nothing else to do for now, besides waiting until I was finally home, I let myself give in to my exhaustion. I let it take over, the pain in my wounds numbing as sleep overtook me.

And so... I slept.

—

Later that day, we stopped to grant the horses rest. They were fed and watered, and granted time to relax. At one of the checkpoints between that coastal town and the society within the walls, I suppose we could have found worse spots to rest, certainly. No, this would do nicely. When one of Elijah's friends saw him and asked to catch up while he was here, he hesitated, not wanting to leave me alone. I waved him off, then made my way slowly yet surely - my crutch beneath my arm - to a small, secluded spot overlooking these beautiful fields.

Well, fields that were beautiful, anyway. Now, the tall grasses were flattened with footsteps, the landscaped permanently stamped with the mark of the Rumbling. The wind tried rustling through the grass but met no resistance and flowed harmlessly through until it reached me. I tucked my hair behind my ear to enjoy the breeze only to remember...

Well, I couldn't do that, so I didn't.

I released a sigh through my nose.

Everything hurt at the moment. Was it naïve of me to think it wouldn't, despite everything happening just this morning? But it did. My arms hurt from the strain of fighting, my muscles were strained and weak, my legs were sore. My head was pounding in a splitting headache and...

My heart hurt most of all.

We stopped to rest, yes - but I would not be able to truly do so until I was home, this I knew for certain.

—

They stopped only to board the flying boat. But even in that brief time...

Nothing could ever go right for them, could it? No, never. Levi wasn't sure why of all times he was now cursing their awful luck, but he was. Honestly though, he could spend all day blaming Eren, his own abilities, those of his comrades, their inability to stop this all before it happened...

But that would only lead to regret.

So he blamed their shitty luck, instead.

But it was in that brief time that they stopped that the Colossal Titans caught up to them. Someone needed to buy them some time.

That was when they lost Hange.

At that point, as he said those accursed words to one of his dearest comrades and closest... friends, Levi couldn't even have blamed their shitty luck. Hange had chosen this.

No, he couldn't blame their luck even if he tried.

Hange had chosen this - her death.

And what a sacrifice, what a death it was.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell, though. But he could do nothing more right now than take the time to rest and formulate a plan for right now.

He could not grieve right now.

Even so, he knew he would grieve anyway - but he could not do so, not truly, nor even rest, until he was home, this he knew for certain.

—

It was during that strange time of rest, forced that it was, that something terrible happened to me - a flash of light, but not obtrusive, one that was only sudden because I had not noticed its onset. But what came with it was not unlike a memory, the feeling of something that had happened before but strangely, I was experiencing it for the first time with these eyes, this body.

...

It was on this day that Eren Yeager was killed.