"Jean," I said, laughing as he pulled me along, "this is highly irregular, I should have you know!"

"Yes, well, there's no arguing against that," he conceded, looking back to send me a boyish grin before tugging me along by the wrist more insistently.

"My legs may be short," I began to argue, "but I could keep up with you just fine without being dragged like this!"

"Oh? Without gear, that might be a challenge," he teased.

"You-!"

Jean laughed heartily, and by now I knew exactly where we were going. When he wanted to get away from everyone else here, or else when he needed a spot to cool down, he would come here. It was a secretive spot, well-hidden and quite the trek from the in-development base we had started here at the coast.

When riding out with Emi one day on my trusted steed, we happened upon him sitting cross-legged out on that rocky cliff overlooking the ocean. It was a beautiful spot, a scenic overlook and a peaceful place of privacy and so I immediately felt the sting of guilt for having interrupted his calm time away. But he had only greeted me with a sheepish smile, admitting that when he couldn't be found, that's where he was.

He invited us to sit with him, and rather embarrassedly offered up some of the snacks he'd gathered up and brought out here. We all indulged - Emi more than anyone - and soon, we got to talking.

That had been a wonderful afternoon, spent with one of my dearest subordinates.

And from then on, whenever I noticed Jean's absence, I would give him time; private time was precious time, and we all deserved some. So, for him to have found his own spot was something to be rewarded and so I granted him that space and that time. Being a soldier was no easy ask, of course.

But when the absence would grow long, or his solitude telling of some greater loneliness. I would head out alone and seek him out. He'd let me sit with him, and he would either let me talk his ear off, or would talk mine off.

It was at that spot that he told me about his mother, about how he loved her but felt the disconnect all teenage boys did.

It was at that spot that he told me about those grand ambitions of his, to live a good life, one he could be proud of after his hard work was done.

It was at that spot that he told me about Marco, that dear friend of his who had fallen in battle mysteriously, who had supported him so genuinely, so earnestly...

It was at that spot that, a few weeks before my birthday, he presented me with something he'd been working on for a long, long time.

It was at that spot that he had watched me tear up at the sight of the single piece of parchment, the fruit of his labors for so long.

It was at that spot that for the first time in a long time, I looked into the eyes of my father.

—

I opened my eyes from what must have been a fitful, completely restless slumber because I felt dazed, I felt confused, and... I felt altogether not there, or at least not all there anyway. I didn't feel like myself but all the same I knew this could only have been me. Only I had this heartbeat and this set of hands, those scars and these thoughts.

Yes, I was Amaya.

But why did I feel so... distant, from myself?

That seemed to be the best way for me to describe it, because it was a completely indescribable feeling otherwise. I felt disjointed, but not; I felt disconnected, but not; and I felt distant, but not.

I was uniquely myself but not at home within my own body and when my eyes snapped open and I sat up, those feelings were only compounded by the strange setting I found myself in. It was strange, yes, but familiar, too. I'd been here before, and rather recently, no?

It was that strange heaven-scape, that infinite expanse of glassy floor and endlessly blue sky with rolling, toiling clouds, twisting through the air like storm clouds but calmer, much calmer, and they were pure white, the fluffiest kind but racing somewhere far off, somewhere I could not follow.

It was gorgeous.

But why, if it was not home, did it feel like home? Why, if I had only ever been here once before, had I felt such a pull, like I wanted to be here?

And... why was I here, exactly? Why was I alone?

The last thing I remembered... Oh, I was being tortured. I lost...

My ear was missing. Only, the pain was not there. There was not even an ache, nor the lingering soreness of wounds long healed but scarred. I gathered my feet beneath me and stood. There was no swaying, there was no pain, not even from my leg - which I could have sworn had gotten an entire grapple through it. I looked down and there was a hole, ghastly and gaping, in my leg, but no blood. There was no exposed skin for the frayed threads of my pants to cling to, and there was not even the sensation of anything passing through.

It was altogether not here. My physical self was intact and I was in control but all of my wounds were visible, perhaps more so than they ever had been before. In this light, the pink skin of recently healed cuts seemed to reflect the light especially so, and there was the sensation of something glowing by my eye, a cut I'd gotten only days ago during the Rumbling that had healed but was now amplified, intensified... but utterly sensationless.

Even on my arms, old scars seemed new, and because I was curious, I lifted my shirt and looked down at myself. I was not wearing the gear, but I might as well have been for the way all the permanent imprints the leather had made into my skin were visible, incredibly so. Impacts of my pregnancy - stretch marks most noticeably - were almost illuminated too, by the brilliant illumination of the sun, so far above my head but also, in a strange way, seemingly close enough to touch.

What was happening?

I lowered my shirt and looked around, then curiosity brought my focus back to my hands. Small scars and calluses littered them, and all but the tops of my hands seemed untouched but I knew that was simply untrue. My knuckles were bruised, and when I turned my hand over, even my lifeline was sliced through with a cut I'd gotten a long, long time ago.

I closed that hand, hiding the injury from view, and if I thought about it hard enough, I could almost feel the stinging pain of doing so, pain that had been such a burden when I'd gotten it but by now was little more than a distant memory and a reminder to try not to get cut in such an inconvenient spot.

There along my arm was one of my worse wounds, one that bled for what felt like hours afterward while Levi and I were in that forest all alone, scouting ahead and fighting hard.

When the hair on the back of my neck all stood on end, I knew something was off, even here where everything seemed off. I felt the distinct feeling of being watched and immediately my guard was up, my fists clenched, my eyes narrow as I searched for danger.

Only, there was none. Though that, of course, I knew could very well be a red herring.

My muscle memory guided me to crouch, then to reach into my boot. From out of that special leather sheath I sewed into my boot came my knife, the handle worn and molded to my hand, the blade sharp and true. It caught all the light of this brilliant heaven-scape, and when I turned around, sensing movement, I found myself brandishing my knife at... nothing.

I turned around myself, once and then another time for good measure, and when I lowered my knife and my shoulders slumped and I realized I must have been wrong, that's when I saw it. A lone figure, in the corner of my eye, easy to miss if not for the landscape void of anything else. I used only my eyes to look first, and then when I recognized the form, that height and that build, suspicion rose up in my chest and I turned my head to look at them directly.

For the first time in a long time, I found myself looking into the eyes of my father.

"El," I breathed out, the word in no possible way reaching his ears as I ran to him. I crossed the space between us as though I had wings, as though I hadn't just received a grievous injury and like I hadn't just fought hard, incredibly so.

Right now, I didn't feel any pain.

Right now, I didn't feel any exhaustion.

I would use that to my advantage. I would take advantage of this as best I could, because it's been so, so long since I'd seen him, even in a memory.

Relief flooded my entire being as I leapt into his arms and he had a physical form, as physical as my own seemed to be. When I threw my arms around his shoulders, burrowing my face against his neck as sobs racked my entire frame, he responded in kind. His arms wound around me, holding me close and keeping me there.

His hug was just as wonderful as I remembered it being. It was warm and secure, and made me feel safe, even in this uncertain place.

"Oh, god," I managed to sputter out between my wails.

"Shh," he responded, lifting one hand to cradle the back of my head against him. His fingers began carding through my hair gently, which I only just now realized was down, not that it mattered much. He soothed me gently, as he always had, as I always remembered him doing. "Don't speak now, it's alright. We have all the time we need here."

They were cryptic words, but I had always trusted him. Even when I was a little girl, tiny compared to the world, and tiny compared to the dangers I had faced in that city. When we had first met, I had felt I could trust him, and so I had.

I was so grateful that I'd had that judgment back then. So grateful I'd never be able to express it, not truly, and not in a way that would do justice to how I felt.

"El," I whispered once more, focusing only for now on the sensation of being held by him, something I'd never thought I'd get the chance to do ever again.

"Come, now," he said, and even without looking I could tell that he was smiling, "our reunion after so long and you're crying?"

"Oh, hush," I muttered, the words holding no heat. How could they? He'd always had this sense of humor, one that had always worked to make me feel better... even now, even here.

El chuckled good-naturedly, pressing a kiss to my temple. "And to think, you pointed your knife at me. And it was my knife first!" He shook his head indulgently. "It's alright, Maya. Let it out. I'm here."

Yes, he was. I didn't care if this was a dream, because it felt lucid. It couldn't be reality, could it? But it didn't matter - he was here, and so was I. This was a gift of some kind, for some reason. All I knew was that I would not waste it.

So, when my tears subsided, and my breathing evened out, I remained in his arms. He allowed me that quiet comfort, even as every so often I would remember just how precious as chance this was and fresh tears would well up in my eyes.

He granted me all the time I needed. True to his words, it seemed as though we really would be granted all the time we needed - or wanted.

"El," I said once more, finally drawing away from him but remaining in his embrace. I looked up at him, meeting those warm brown eyes of his at long last. He met my gaze kindly, looking weathered and worn as he always had - but happy. Incredibly so.

Just as he'd always looked when he regarded me.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"I miss you."

"You miss me? I'm standing right here."

"This can't possibly be real," I noted, shaking my head sadly. "It can't be."

"It's real enough, isn't it?" He pinched my side, making me laugh and try to wiggle out of his grasp. "That feels real, doesn't it?"

"Ow," I gasped, though a smile broke through when he released the pinch but wrapped my head up in a tight hug against his chest. I laughed, the sound escaping me freely as he rocked us back and forth, the way he would whenever I was having a bad day or when he wanted to make me laugh.

"Oh, my dearest daughter, give your beloved father a hug," he said dramatically, and I continued to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Instead, I pushed him away, not enough for it to hurt but just enough so I could escape his grasp and retreat a few steps back.

The smile on his face was proud, joyful, rather youthful; my own smile lingered for a few moments more but soon faded from my face as I ran my hand through my hair, setting it back in place from his tousling. In response, El's smile slipped, but only slightly. His eyes were fond and affectionate, but lingering in his eyes was sadness, now, reflected easily in his smile.

"It feels real," I answered him, finally. "But it can't be. Can it?"

"All I know is that for the first time after my death," he said gently, "when you called for me, you can see me."

"What do you mean?"

"Whenever you called for me... for help, for guidance, to share in your daughter's achievements... I always came."

"You..."

"I was there," he reiterated softly. "Every time you asked for me."

Flashes of memory reached me, all at once and startlingly so.

"Oh, my- Levi, come look! Come see! Oh, El, if only you could see Emi now..."

"She won't stop crying, and I don't... Dad, what would you do? Am I not doing enough?"

"It's been a long time, El."

That last one stood out, for it was when... when I visited his grave.

As if knowing exactly what I was thinking about, El smiled knowingly, reassuringly, and he nodded. "I got to watch you grow and fall in love. That story you told at my grave - I heard it all. I got to watch your daughter grow up. I'm honored you thought of me enough to want me to see it all, by the way. And I've enjoyed all of it - I missed a lot of your life. I missed too much."

"It wasn't your fault," I reminded him, and he shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know," he said. "You eventually found out what happened to me, didn't you?"

"I did," I answered. "Commander Erwin, he found out for me."

"But you had the bravery to read it."

"I suppose," I murmured, shaking my head. "It was awful, El. You were too kind, and your dedication to the people meant you were a liability to that new regime and... and..." I forced a sigh through my lips as his smile grew. I'd had this "talk" with him before. He knew all I had to say about it already. To think that every time I called for him, even subconsciously, that he had been there...

It was so much. It was too much, almost.

"So, where are we?"

"I don't know. Does it matter?" Before I could even sigh, El chuckled. "Your father's here to protect you. Let your guard down. It's pretty enough, isn't it? We're safe here, I promise."

Well, promises meant something to me, so I chose to believe him. I visibly relaxed, and nodded as though to visually affirm it.

"So," he said, "you called for me. Why?"

"Why...? Do I have to have a reason?" His smile grew, and one finally returned to my own lips.

"Alright," he conceded, lifting his hands as though in surrender, "you got me. Still, I know you, and you don't just do things for no reason. Unless you've changed that much?"

"Ah, well," I considered, thinking it over. "No, not really. I just... can't really remember my reason. I don't really even remember... calling for you."

"Sometimes," El said surely, "the heart does these things subconsciously. I think, of all times, there's something special about today and why specifically your heart sought me out."

"Why?"

"Because this is the first time you've come to me."

Ah.

"I suppose you're right," I mused.

"What do you remember?"

"I was being tortured, I think," I began, which might have been a bad place to start because I could see the physical toll it took him to hold himself back, to not come running to me to comfort me or check me over or do all the things he wanted to. "There was a battle. Er... maybe it's more helpful to start a bit further back."

"Yes, probably."

"While traveling to Marley undercover," I finally decided, "Eren didn't come back with us. He didn't come home."

"That's concerning."

"It was. I almost got... deathly ill because of it."

El's eyes softened. "You poor thing," he murmured. "Levi must have been worried sick."

"He was," I affirmed. "I felt so bad after but... he said I was stupid for being so apologetic over me getting sick."

"I don't know if I'd have used that word exactly," El said even as he smiled slyly, "but I would tend to agree with him. It's proof your husband cares, that he worried - that's nothing to be sorry about. You couldn't control it."

"Maybe I could've," I said quietly. "If I hadn't..."

"Gotten so attached? Yes, I fear that might have been the worst thing you inherited from me. Or... well. Not really, because we're not related, but it's the worst thing you learned from me, I'll say. Then again... I think maybe you'd always had that big heart of yours. No, I don't think I had anything to do with it at all."

"You taught me not to close it off," I provided, and he smiled ruefully.

"Yes," he said, "I suppose I did."

"It was my choice to take him in as I did," I continued. "But there's no changing it now."

"No," El agreed. "There's not. All you can do is push on."

"Right," I said, glancing away. "War came closer every day. Paradis developed with the help of our volunteers, slowly but surely, but I always knew that even so, we were decades behind everyone else. I was so scared for my family."

"I know," he said gently. "You asked for me often during that time."

"I didn't know what you would have done," I said, "and I suppose that might have been unfair because... you'd never been faced with that."

"I hadn't," he confirmed, "but I think you navigated that strange time just fine, Maya."

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head and meeting his gaze once more. This was a precious time to see him, truly - I wouldn't waste it by looking away. "When the war came, it was because Eren asked us - er, the scouts - to join him in Libero, in Marley."

"The scouts. Not you?"

"He asked specifically for me to help plan," I said, "but to fight... no. I sneaked away to fight anyway."

"Maya..."

"I know. But Emi was safe, I made sure of that. I couldn't dare stay away from the fight, else I'd have no say in the outcome."

"I know the feeling well."

"You do?"

"Things in that city were awful," he reminded me. "It's not the future I wanted for you. So I fought each day to get new things in place - bills to protect the youth, infrastructure to support the people, programs to provide food and clean water. I was always shut down. But I never stopped trying."

My heart nearly broke for that poor man, fighting an ever-upward battle. "We finally did it," I told him. "The orphans, they..."

"I know," he said, smiling widely and a little tearfully. "I know. I'm so proud of you for that."

I looked down at my hands, my arms. Fighting... I surely had. And the effects were here, clear as day. "That future you wanted," I began quietly, a pinch forming in my brow at the sight of all my injuries, my scars, past pain and sacrifices...

Sacrifices that had been for nothing.

"Is this what you wanted? Is this what you thought your daughter would do?"

At that, at my words spoken, pointed and almost accusatory though towards whom I could never be certain, I met his steady gaze. He did not seem taken aback by my words, nor by my tone. Actually, he seemed to have been expecting it.

He stayed quiet. He was letting me continue, as he knew I wanted to.

I took the chance. I took the leap. I kept talking.

"When you looked into the eyes of that little girl, is this what you expected would come of her life? To be a soldier, yes - but a useless one? One who could kill a few Titans but never amount to more than someone to stay on the sidelines? Someone who never had stock in my own life? Someone who, for all her sacrifices, never did much more than be something to worry about? Someone who would never do anything worthwhile in her fight?"

Slightly winded, I deflated slightly. Tears welled up in my eyes but I ignored them. I summoned my nerve, hardly taking a breath of air before continuing.

"Dad," I said, "I need help. I'm tired of talking to myself and... I've been lost without you. You raised me so kindly, loved me like your own and... how do I repay you? I hate how I'm just who I am. I'm no hero, I'm not meant for anything more than that, than who I am. I can't... I just can't..."

Still, he said nothing.

"For a long while, I thought I forgot what you looked like. But then I'd think it over and I'd remember and... I vowed from then on to never let you slip from my memory because what kind of legacy would I be if I did that? Without you, I... I'm a mother now, but I feel like I'm messing everything up and I try to be there for her and my husband both but I..."

I didn't even wait for his reply. I only continued.

"How can I return to her, knowing that I couldn't save him? How can I show my face to my daughter when the one thing I promised her - that I would return with Levi - is one that I broke? I lost my fight, I got hurt. Levi is off fighting and dammit, he might already be dead! How can I possibly return to her like this? I can't be a good mother to her like this, and I don't know if I even ever was!"

My next words were quiet.

"Since she was born, Levi and I felt that home was with her. If we only had each other... we could exist anywhere. But now, after all that I have done... I feel like I won't be welcome. The rules keep changing on me, El. We were criminals. We had to fight Titans. We had to fight people. We had to fight foreigners and now... the world. What if I'm wrong? What if I should be protecting Paradis? What if everyone is right, and the world will only kill us for doing what we've done? How can I possibly explain any of this to Emi? And... will she agree with what we've done? Or will she condemn us?"

I shook my head, unable to fathom that I was dropping this all on him. But I was already so far along, I may as well continue.

"It's not fair," I exclaimed. "I wasn't ready to lose you. I still need you. I feel like nothing I do is right and I'll be wrong anyway so what's the point? And I don't know... is home still home? I don't know where to go or if I'll even survive these injuries and if I do... I don't know if I can raise Emi alone or if we'll even be accepted here anymore."

By the end of it all, my hands were hanging limply at my sides. Tears ran down my face freely.

"I don't want to give up," I said, "but I don't know where to go, El." In as few strides as he could, he finally crossed the space between us and he drew me in for a tight hug. I didn't hug back, not right away. I only closed my eyes, pressing my face into his shoulder and letting him hold me. "I feel so alone."

Like before, he let me cry. This time, instead of relief, it was pain. I wasn't crying from being so happy at our reunion, yet so overwhelmed by all I felt and all I wanted to say. Now, I had said what I needed to. I was a little girl again, fearful of the world and needing her father.

And... he was here for me.

Like before, when my tears were spent, I pulled away from him. "Come," he said gently, gesturing towards the ground. "Let's sit."

I did as told, settling cross-legged on the glassy expanse that was more comfortable than I anticipated it being, and he sat behind me once I was comfortable. I equally had no idea what he was doing but had known what it was he was going for, so it was an unsurprising surprise when he began running his hands through my hair. He separated it into three distinct sections and he... began to braid my hair, something he would do so often when I was a little girl. Something Ellie had taught him in hopes that they had a daughter of their own one day.

"I can't tell you what to do," he began. "Aside from the empty things that you don't want to hear. But they're not empty, not really. I just know how frustrating it can be to hear these things while you want a concrete answer."

"Tell me," I requested gently.

"Have hope," he said warmly. "And remember to always listen to your heart. What is it telling you? Where is home?"

"Home is..." I paused for a moment. "I don't know."

"Try again."

"I don't know if I can."

"Your heart knows the answer. It knew to bring you to me, didn't it? I know you detest it for being so big, for caring too much. You've too good a heart to be a soldier. That's something you've heard a lot, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Cut your heart some slack," he advised. "It's what makes you who you are. You wouldn't be Maya without it."

Sure, but did it really know the answer?

I searched it and for a moment, got nothing. But then...

"It's with my family," I said quietly. "But is that possible? Levi might be dead already."

"So might you."

"How do I get home, then?"

"Have hope," he repeated. "And fight for it. At the end of it all, only you can fight for your own life."

"Even...?"

Somehow, he knew what I was going to say.

"Even when you thought all hope was lost and you were continuing to live only for mine and Caden's sake," he said. "Even on your first expedition, when you thought you were staying alive only to be there for Levi when he lost everything else. Even every time after that, whenever you got hurt. It was you alone, Amaya. The people around us may give us motivation but only you fought for your own life."

"So, I...?"

"Decided you were worth it," he said decidedly. "Something I always saw. Something Caden always saw. Something Farlan, and Isabel, and Erwin always saw. Something Levi always saw."

Tears found my eyes once more. I couldn't quite fathom all of this.

"Something your daughter will always see," he then added, and my heart constricted painfully at that. He tied the braid off, letting his hands linger for a moment. "You're strong. Far stronger than you give yourself credit for."

He stood, coming around to my front as though to examine me. Despite my teary eyes, and despite my scars... he smiled when I looked up at him.

"You beautiful girl," he murmured. "Come on, up you get."

"El, I..."

He said nothing. He only held one hand towards me. Taking the hint, and having no reason to deny him, I took his hand and allowed him to help me up. When I was standing on my own two feet, El searched my eyes for a moment longer, then nodded resolutely.

"I cannot tell you what to do," he reiterated. "All I can do is remind you of what you already know. Maya... have hope." He held my cheeks in his hands, squishing them together and smiling at what he saw. "I am so proud of you, Maya."

I couldn't speak even if I wanted to. I only clasped one of his hands in my own, holding it against my cheek - willing him to stay here, to stay, to never leave me ever again, no matter what.

But in his eyes, I could see that he recognized my silent request, my unspoken plea, and that he also knew he could not oblige. And his eyes so reflected my own, because I knew the answer in my own heart, just as certainly.

Tears continued down along my cheeks, dripping from my chin. But he still smiled so warmly at me, so warmly...

"Please, El," I pleaded. "Just tell me what to do."

"I've never needed to do that," he reminded me. "There's never been a need for me to." With teary eyes of his own, he regarded me calmly, though I could tell he was only moments from breaking down, too. 

But as always, he would wait until I was gone so that I might not hear him cry.

"We likely won't talk again until you join me here," he said. "But I enjoyed talking with you. I missed you terribly."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, warmth blooming from that spot and making its way to my heart, reminding me of the ache of missing him, of my solitude... the solitude I was returning to.

"You're so strong," he reminded me. "And I'll always, always be there for you when you need me. Even if you can't see me. I love you more than you'll ever know, Maya."

"I love you too," I managed to murmur, and his eyes held within them so much affection I almost hurt to bear.

"So, tell me," he prompted. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going home," I said resolutely, and he smiled. I smiled at him and, when my eyes closed next, everything went dark.

—

When I came to, I had no idea where the hell I was. Again.

My head was still pounding, but at least I was awake. I had that going for me, at least. Every single muscle in my body was trembling, aching, crying out. My entire body was hurting, but I could feel painless throbs coming from my leg and my head, accompanied by a terrible ringing noise.

My tired eyes, when they finally opened, roved lazily across the room. It was a quaint little space, a guest room from the looks of it, and decorated plainly yet it had a certain charm to it. I had a feeling I was still at the coast, with the way that everything in here felt so new. It was worn, sure, but not terribly so. It all felt... more modern.

There was a bare dresser across the room and a window with the curtains fastened closed over it. And it had floral wallpaper, another form of proof that I was probably still in the portside town. That type of frivolous thing wasn't integrated into the society within the Walls yet.

Ah... oops. I mean to say society that was within the walls.

Aside from that, there wasn't much furniture aside from the wooden chair next to the bed I was in. The bed was soft, wonderfully so, and my head was cushioned with admittedly flat pillows, but I wasn't exactly in a position to complain. Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all, and I had absolutely no idea who I'd even be begging from, if I chose to.

"Ah, god," I groaned, closing my eyes again. My voice was rough and scratchy, and my ears were ringing so badly. There was a dull pain in my leg, and my body was sore, but my body felt oddly weightless, the kind you got when you were hopped up on medicine, like painkillers.

I didn't want to think that I was still with the enemy, but why would they let me go? Would they even treat me with this much kindness after everything?

Yona would not. That bitch. I can't believe I let her even...

No matter. It happened. I'd been overpowered. No changing it now.

Oscar... he might offer me some kindness. Though, would he really?

Even if I'd been so completely defeated and overwhelmed, would they grant me the simple kindness of giving me a bed and medicine? And I hadn't bled out, that was reassuring. I couldn't imagine that I was under the care of the Yeagerists. There was no way.

I began to sit up; each muscle involved protested as I did. "We've been crushed by Titans before, Maya," I said to myself. "This is nothing. We can do this." Just as I sat up, I was hit with a wave of dizziness. "Ooh, fuck. Ow. Ok, probably not the best idea."

I lifted one hand to cradle my head. Now that I was sitting up the blanket slid from my torso and with a quick glance down, I realized I'd been changed. I was in a nightgown, one that wasn't my own. It was far too big for me, but once again, I had no reason to complain. I was alive.

When the dizzy spell faded, I ran my left hand through my hair, but something was wrong. Something was... missing.

My hair was in a loose sort of braid, so with shaky fingers I went to brush my hair behind my ear. But I couldn't. Nothing was there. Tears welled up in my eyes. Oh, god. They really did it. My fingertips gently grazed over the spot where my left ear used to be, finding instead only a thick wad of bandages that wound around my head.

"No, no, no," I said, my breath catching in my throat. "Please no, I'm dreaming."

There was a knock on the door, and at the simple sound, my heart constricted with fear. This was not a house I recognized, nor was that a knock I recognized. No more. Wake me up now, please.

The door seemed to open in slow motion. Instead of a soldier, a portly little woman stepped in, a tray balanced with lots of little things on top. As she worked to steady the tray on one hand so she could close the door, her eyes traveled across the room to land on me. Her eyes widened and she beamed only a second later. I supposed she was as surprised to see me awake as I was to see her in general.

"Oh," she chirped. "You're awake, dear."

"Y-Yes," I managed to say despite my shock. "I think so."

"Thank goodness," she heaved out. "I thought we lost you! Oh, you must be so scared," she said gently, closing the door behind her. "And you must be so confused. But you only just woke up, you need to hydrate and eat, honey, before anything else."

"Okay," I said, at a complete loss for anything else to say. "I'm not... I'm not dead."

"And thank goodness for that," she said earnestly as she approached the bed slowly. "When we found you, we thought you were. The soldiers, they... broke in, you see." I leaned back against the pillows as she lowered herself to sit on the chair beside the bed. The tray was lined with an impressive array of medicine, food, and gauze.

"My family ran into one of the closets, just to wait it out," she continued. "My husband, he wanted to get rid of them, but... When he heard what they were going to do to you, we were just too scared to move. We're not soldiers, you know? My husband is only a fisherman, he doesn't have a violent bone in his body. But I'm so sorry we couldn't help you sooner."

"No, please don't feel bad," I said. "I'm sorry they chose your home to break into. I don't blame you for hiding away."

"Still, I wanted to do something," she sighed. "There was an explosion, and the soldier who'd tortured you ran out. I think it was one of the ships. But we took that chance and came to you."

"Oh, no, no, no," I said, my heart leaping into my throat. "Did you see which one? T-There was one leaving port, soldiers were on it, was it that one?"

She looked taken aback by my question. "No, I didn't see," she answered. The intense pounding of my heart didn't slow and my mind refused to stop racing. "Why?"

"I was fighting alongside my friends," I said, "and... and my husband, he boarded the ship with them..."

"Oh, my word," she gasped. She took my hand in both of hers, squeezing gently, reassuringly. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"I... It's something we've talked about. A lot. Both of us being soldiers, of course, we always knew the risks, but..."

"Well, I'm not sure which ship it was," she reminded me. "There were multiple ships in the harbor. But I haven't gone outside, not since... Not since the fighting started this morning. My husband has started helping with the cleanup, so I'll ask him once he returns."

"I'm only a stranger," I said, shaking my head. "Why are you helping me?"

"Regardless of who or what you fight for, you're a human being, just like me. Why wouldn't I help you? And besides, you were in a Scout's uniform. You lot were fighting against whatever released those titans, right?"

"Right," I breathed out. "Thank you." I said, not sure quite what else there was to say. "...But I'll be out of your home as soon as I can, I promise."

"There's no rush, dear," she said with a warm smile, giving my hand a motherly pat. "You are welcome to stay as long as you need. And with these injuries, it'll probably be a while, honey. And speaking of your injuries, I'd like to redress them, if you don't mind."

"Oh, uh, thank you," I said.

"Don't thank me," she said. "I just figured that you could use some kindness, after what they did to you."

I was about to thank her again but bit my tongue. Instead, I sat quietly as she lifted the blanket away from my body, revealing the extent of what had been done to me. "Oh, god," I breathed out. My left leg was completely bandaged, up to the knee. "Do I even want to know how bad it is?"

"I'm not sure if you'll be able to use it for a long, long while," she said, beginning to unwind the bandage. "Whatever happened to you, you broke both bones in your lower leg. They were completely fractured and broken. Shattered, in some places. And the skin and muscles, they were all mangled, and... Goodness, I hate to say it, but it was difficult to look at. One of the worst injuries I'd ever seen, and I've had to help men who'd gotten fishhooks caught in them."

It was an odd joke, but it made me smile, nonetheless. She smiled as I did. "Well, imagine a big fishhook, and that's what got me."

"It went through your leg," she said, beginning to reclean the wound. I winced as I saw it. It really was tough to look at. "And whatever it was, they tore it out, leaving you to bleed out. I've never seen anything like it. You lost so much blood, I'm surprised you're even awake now. It's only evening now. I was expecting you to be asleep for a lot longer." She glanced up into my eyes. "You're pale as a ghost, dear, and you look exhausted. Please, as soon as I'm done here, head right back to sleep."

"Ok," I breathed out. "Ok. I will."

She looked back down at the wound, focusing on cleaning and redressing it. "The recovery time for just your leg will be several weeks before you can even think about putting even the lightest bit of weight on it, and even that would be too soon. And then there will be all the physical therapy for it. But it's not your only major injury, I'm afraid."

"Yeah," I nodded, lifting a hand absentmindedly to my missing ear.

"Don't touch it," she warned. "It's stopped bleeding, but the slightest touch could reopen it. Eventually, the skin will grow over the wound, but for now, you need to be so very gentle with it. My husband ran and got some of the medics from your base. They're the ones who patched you up."

Oh, bless their souls.

I remembered then that she'd mentioned her family lived here. I found that I'd rather hear about them then the recovery time for these injuries. I knew there was no hope for me to ever return to the fighting for me. It'd be a damn miracle to walk on my own again. And I didn't want to think about that right now.

"Do you... do you have kids?"

"Three," she answered quickly, likely picking up on the fact I needed a distraction. "Twin boys and our youngest is a girl."

"Were they... here, when it happened?"

"Yes," she admitted. "They heard what happened. We were hiding in one of the closets. As soon as the fighting started, we locked the doors, closed the curtains. There was no time to flee the city, and no way to keep them from coming in."

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I can't imagine how scared they were."

"It already happened," she told me, her tone somber. "There's no use in being sorry about it. It wasn't your fault that you were brought into this house, nor was it your fault that we couldn't get out in time. We didn't want to risk running out into the street during the fighting. We didn't think they'd come in."

"Are they alright?"

"A bit shaken, but we're all fine."

"Thank goodness." I paused, thinking of what to say next. "I've got a little girl, myself," I said to her, gently. That caught her attention.

"Tell me about her," the woman said.

"Her name is Emiko," I said, smiling at my mind's eye conjured up an image of her. I closed my eyes to enjoy the moment. Goodness, I loved to talk about her. "Named after my husband's mother. She turns four years old this fall."

The woman smiled warmly at me. "If she takes after you, she must be quite the pretty young lady."

"Thank you," I said, appreciating the compliment, "but she takes after her father. Not that it's a bad thing, of course."

I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth, overwhelmed by a sudden onslaught of emotion. I really was alone, in a stranger's home. A well-meaning, seemingly trustworthy stranger, sure, but a stranger, nonetheless. Tears welled up in my eyes and my hands found the sheets only to fist them tightly. The woman noticed this, her eyes gradually lifting from my wound to my eyes.

"Oh, did I hurt you?" She asked. "Please, be honest if I did."

"N-No," I managed to say as I choked back a sob. "I just... I-I miss my husband, a-and my daughter, my comrades, everyone... I..."

"Oh, dear," she cooed, cutting me off gently, "it's ok to cry. I know you must be so pent-up right now. Let it out, honey. You're safe now. You can let it all out."

"I failed them," I said to the woman. Her eyes remained intently on my own and I swore she could see right through them and into my soul. "I told them I'd keep them safe. I'd help them how I could. I'd return to my daughter with her father with me and we could maybe be a normal family. I'd prove myself as a soldier, a captain. B-But I couldn't! I-I didn't!"

The woman's gaze returned to her work, gently cleaning my wound. It was still terribly sensitive; even through the painkillers I could feel the dull throb wracking through it. Echoes of that ache traveled through my body, amplifying the beating of my heart as I wept. Tears rolled down my cheeks openly, dropping from my chin into my lap.

"I'm a fool," I said quietly. "I thought it would be better if I went. But now I'm here and injured and useless while they go after the single biggest threat to this world. I can't do a damn thing right. I'm a terrible mother, an awful wife, a worse soldier, I can't take it. And for what? All of this when I could have stayed home where it's safe."

"I may be a stranger who knows only what you've told me," the woman interjected gently, "but even I can tell that you're lying. I can see it in your eyes that you're not a terrible mother, nor a terrible wife."

"I left home," I said, "to rejoin this fight. Years ago when I got pregnant my husband wanted me to bow out of the fighting for good. but I was stubborn. When we went abroad to raid the internment zone and start this damn war, I sneaked aboard. I lied to my husband. Left our daughter with a family friend while we went off into danger. And I did it again, to get here. Now look at me."

"Every mother in existence has moments where they feel like the worst mother," she told me. "I have. My mother did. I'm sure yours did, too. It's just part of being a mother. But the thing is, there is no perfect mother, nor is there a perfect way to be a parent. I'm sure in telling you to stay home, your husband had your well-being in mind, and that of your daughter's. Yes?"

"Yes," I answered feebly. "Of course he did. He wanted us safe, especially when his safety was so uncertain. He'd rather sacrifice himself than risk me."

"Yet you wanted to fight," she said. "I'm no soldier. However, though my husband and I butt heads sometimes on how best to be a parent, we know that at the end of the day that we have only the best intentions for our children. I'm sure that when you went to fight, you had not only your daughter's future in mind, but the world. Am I right?"

I nodded slowly. "I thought I could help stop Eren... and save everyone."

"Because that way, your daughter could have a chance at a peaceful life," she mused. "Correct?" I nodded again. "And your husband? Was he happy to see you?"

"In Marley, no," I said. "But when we finally reunited last night, he was."

"That's all I really need to know then," she said, "to know that you're not a bad mother nor a bad wife. You're fighting for your daughter's future and even in these awful times you managed to support your husband. That's really all we can ask for right now, isn't it?"

"I..."

"And you mentioned being a captain, yes? The medics mentioned that, too."

"Yes," I answered, meekly. "I was a captain."

"You are a captain," she pressed. "Once again, I'm not a soldier, but even I know that they don't grant that rank to anyone, no matter how tiny or fractured our military is."

I managed to laugh at that. Yeah, if I had to describe Paradis' military forces right now, it'd be exactly like that. Tiny and fractured. And assuredly getting smaller.

"When it all happened," she said, "they left in a hurry. As such they left your... personal effects behind." I peered at her curiously. "We stored it all in a closet for now, so the kids won't mess with them. The gear, among other things." She huffed. "Goodness, it took my husband and I so long to try and figure out how to get you out of those straps so we could dress your wounds."

I couldn't help myself; I giggled, imagining how tough it must've been for someone not used to it. "Well, I'm not wearing the uniform, so I'd say you did a good job."

"It took us an embarrassingly long time," she admitted, a smile curling on her lips. "The straps are all in a right tangled mess."

"Well," I said, "I can untangle them. It'll give me something to do."

"Not now," she pressed. "Not until you eat and drink something, then get some more rest."

Rest... Yeah. That would be nice, right about now.

It wasn't much I could do much more than that right now, anyway.

Some sleep would do me some good. Hell, maybe this was all a bad dream, and when next I wake up, I'd be back home with Emi and Levi. I bit back a laugh; yeah, right. But still... some sleep would do me a lot of good.

As soon as she had finished, I slept, just as I had been instructed to do. The sleep was short, and restless, and interrupted very often, but was filled with... rather pleasant dreams. It was as though I'd been reliving them, which might explain why I got so little actual productive rest.

But I'd been able to remember quite a lot of rather mundane things that had simply slipped my mind as time went by. So, to remember them, and so vividly, it was something of a blessing. And for that I was grateful. I hadn't thought about some of them for some time. It'd be a shame to forget them.

Sleep came to me easily, which in itself was a blessing in its own right. A lot had happened recently, in the grand scheme of things and even just today. I was lucky to even have such a luxury as a safe place to rest right now, so why waste it? It was logical, but all the same, it felt selfish almost, sleeping here as I was, because so many right now were fleeing the Rumbling, fighting for their lives. If my scouts were still alive, I'm sure they were fighting their asses off right now.

But my body needed the rest right now. What kind of hypocrite would I be if I harped at Levi all night to rest, but didn't get any myself? I was injured, and badly at that. I needed to rest.

And so that's exactly what I did.