Content Warnings:

•Mentions of Decapitation
•Season 4 Part 3 Spoilers
•Mentions of Death
•Strong Language
•Violence
•Blood
•Panic
•Gore

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Flashback

The first time you noticed your brother's absence was one particular night when you forgot your favorite toy in his room. You had climbed back out of bed and snuck into the other room across the hall to retrieve it. Afraid to disturb him, you took your time to be stealthy, otherwise you would have gotten an earful from him.

The doorknob clicked as you opened it, holding your breath in case that alone already woke him up. When you did not hear a peep from inside the bedroom, you ventured forth, determined to get in and get out. You simply could not rest until you had that stuffed (animal) back in your possession. You feared what Quincy might do to it without your supervision, like holding it hostage until you agreed to do his chores for him. He was always scheming on how to bribe you out of his work.

In the soft moonlight of your brother's bedroom, you spotted the toy near the open window, exactly where you had left it. Quincy had allowed you to sit in his room and keep him company while he studied one of the various workshop books your father had, passed down from his own father. You scurried as quietly as you could to reach your prized possession, your heart raced in fear of Quincy waking up to scold you for sneaking into his room plus making a lot of noise. However... none of that happened. As soon as your short/long fingers brushed the plush toy, your head darted to the bunk beds to your left. Neither were occupied. Obviously, Tristan was gone at Cadet Corps, but... where was Quincy?

That's strange.

You had thought. You wondered if he had gone to the bathroom and would have returned any second which meant you were screwed. He would walk in the second you made your escape. Before you had more time to question exiting, an oddly familiar whizzing sound caught your attention. You knew it from somewhere, it just took a moment to connect the dots. You remembered hearing that sound from the workshop when your father would test the ODM Gear anchors. He would fire them at a wooden test board, then retract them. That had meant someone was using the gear outside-

*thump*

One blink and in the open window, your brother perched, his (opposite color) eyes wide like yours. You each stared at each other for a solid ten seconds, unspeaking, unmoving. Neither knew what to say or do in that moment. It was obvious your brother had snuck out of the house to do things he shouldn't, but you didn't know how to address that.

"Don't tell dad." "I won't tell dad." You each said at the same time, relieved you had each other's backs on that. Heaven forbid your father found out about Quincy's little stunt and the boy would have been grounded until he was eighteen probably. Maybe forty.

"I wanna use it!" You had gasped, mouth instantly being covered by your brother to shush you. Your father may have snored, but sometimes it felt like he lived in the walls from the secrets he had heard between you and your brothers. You obeyed and kept quiet, realizing it was in your best interest to keep it down. You really did not want to lose the opportunity to learn how to use the gear. "Really? You want to learn how to use ODM Gear?" Quincy scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and that remark made your face fall. You had his back a second ago, but he was still acting like a jerk. "First of all, you're way too small to fit into any of the straps, let alone carry the weight of it all. Second, its not something you can just pick up right off the bat. It takes a lot of practice and patience to get good at it." Your brother tried to talk you out of it in any way he could, but no matter what he did, you were still desperate to learn. Nothing would make you back out of it. You were ready to be just like him, soaring through the sky like a bird. To be free.

After that night, you were still up on Quincy's case, begging to learn ODM Gear as well. You had always wanted to try using it, but after seeing your brother actually use it confirmed your long desire. Knowing it was possible to actually break the rules gave you a rush of adrenaline, and you craved to feel that. You never liked to make your father mad, but this was something different. You were all born to build the contraption, but why weren't you allowed to use it though? Your father certainly had to know how it worked in order to make it properly. So... why couldn't you?

It took lots of convincing and bribery, but your brother finally caved in one evening. Plus, you threw in the fact that Tristan would never teach you because he would be afraid you'd hurt yourself. Plus, he was away from home. Quincy was present and more reckless, which you needed that in a coach in order to learn. You liked to believe he got fed up with your nagging, so he agreed. However, your brother pretended like he was the one doing you a favor by teaching you. Either way, you both got what you wanted. You would do his chores for six months, and he would teach you how to use ODM Gear.

He started off with the basics, giving you the manual on the gear itself so you could start reading it. Every night after he agreed, you studied that book like your life depended on it. Staying up late hours, you were determined to finish that book timely so you could move onto the next step: learning proper balance. He even quizzed you after you finished the book, which you did pretty well on. Actually, you aced it, but Quincy did not want to feed your ego too much, so he said you did all right for a beginner.

From then on, you finally got to lay your hands on a scrap pair of gear. Quincy had given you another manual on how to repair it, written by none other than your grandfather. Touching the writing connected you to him again, feeling like in some way, this would make him proud of you. You felt his guidance along the way, even his presence very often. All of it... all of it brought a sense of purpose to you. You were meant to build, even if your father denied it.

Repairing the ODM Gear was no walk in the park, but you were relieved to have Quincy's assistance, even though he took over many a time. You tried not to let it bother you since you wanted to be efficient enough to do it yourself, but you still had to be grateful he was even teaching you in the first place.

Seven months after accidentally catching your brother using the gear, you finally got to use your own for the very first time. Your brother had warned you multiple times it would be a long process before you got the hang of it, but you did not mind. You were just as excited to take it outside. You knew you wouldn't be as great as him, but you strove to be a close second.

A few- more like a lot of falls and tumbles- later and you were still giddy about the whole thing. You never let the setbacks ruin your mood or practice, you were still just beginning. Everything leading to that moment when you got the hang of it was part of the process, and you enjoyed every second of the ride. You were just ecstatic to finally reach that point.

After a few more weeks of learning from ground level, Quincy had taken you to a roof to practice from a significant height. The exhilaration just from standing on the edge of it had you ready. You'd longed for this day for months... years. "Just don't break a limb! Dad will kill me if you do!" Quincy had shouted from behind, but you were already off, like a baby bird leaving its nest. You finally got to soar through the sky and for many more years after that. In that moment, your brother knew you were more fearless and reckless than him. Braver.

Flashback End

Sitting on a broken piece of wood with your mother, you each stare at the horizon, watching the amber sky glistening across the sea water, shimmering from the evening sun. Memories of finding the coast resurface, where you were all happy for a change. To you, war had seemed over for a calm moment. Before the visions seeped in like a broken dam. You forgot how it felt to be clueless like the others, unknowing of what laid beyond the sea. The very one you sit at today, finally on the other side. Really, both you and Eren knew all along.

Eren...

Reality is slowly setting in. The initial shock of Eren's death hadn't hit you until now. Hell, it had already been awhile since you last saw him in person so to you, it felt like he was still here, alive. You're just still waiting to see him again.

You remember when you first met him, it was a very brief introduction after the battle he had with Annie's Female Titan in Stohess. Then, you didn't properly meet until you were paired with his group to search Wall Rose for a hole that let in more Titans. All of which feels like a decade ago compared to all of the shit you've been through in the last four years. You went to hell and back with that kid, and the idea of him being gone just isn't fully translating yet.

Then, you remember when your comrades surprised you with a group reading, when Eren's mother came through to you. What you had thought to be pure innocence to feeling guilty over not being able to save her... you shiver at the thought of him truly knowing she had to be sacrificed. All the Yeagers were gone. Still, you cannot help but feel bad for the boy. All he ever wanted was peace for his friends and family, but he was only able to achieve such by sacrificing himself too. He saved you all. He saved you. You could never repay him. He was just a boy, a kid. A lovestruck fool who would do anything for the ones he cared about. Its going to be a long adjustment living in a world without another one of your comrades. Here, you still struggle to accept Tristan's absence even after the promise he made you keep.

"Don't let my absence stop you from fighting. You have to keep going."

"I don't think I can go back..." You finally whisper before your mother had the chance to ask. Joining her lips together again, she quietly nods, thinking of a different question since you had beat her to it. "I knew you were going to say that." The older woman whispers back, barely audible over the crashing waves at the damp shore. "Is your friend going back?" She decides to ask instead, noticing Conny still off in the distance, sitting at the shoreline. Without having to look his direction, you shake your head subtly, "not yet, I don't think. He wouldn't go without Jean in tow." He only came to follow you, Captain's orders. Your mother hums at the response, her identical fingers tracing the fabric of her creamy Marleyan coat.

Everything you've ever known, your home across that sea, on that lonely little island is gone. What even remains of it? The Walls have fallen and the Titans once buried inside have trampled everything in their path. Will it even feel the same as back then? When you and Katsumi had just met? Nothing will ever feel that way again. "I don't know what to do, honestly." You speak again, voice ever so slightly louder than before. "About your father?" Your mother wonders, to which you nod. "I'm not sure how to approach him again. I feel like I can't go back there without feeling mortified because I didn't leave on good terms... horrible terms, actually." your voice trails off, but your mother stays quiet to let you further explain.

He probably hates me just as much as Tamara does. Shit... I'm right where she wants me.

"Dad and I had an argument... over a lot of things. I don't know how he would feel if I came back all of a sudden." For the second time in your life, you're scared to face your father. You were always close to him, but you still have no idea where you two stand. It was hard enough after your brother passed, but you made it worse after that visit. Humming, your mother scoots closer to you, her eyes still trained on the sea, "well, from what I know about your father is that he would never be angry if you went back. I think he would want you to come home, to make things right again. You're his little girl, honey, nothing can change that. I'm positive he's hurting just as much as you." She explains, making you nod again because she's right. You're his daughter.

"How do I make it right again, though? Ever since Tristan..." your voice fades away, dropping your head as you feel frustration rising up and constricting your throat. You can sense the hurt in your own mother at the mention of his name, a stiffness added to her demeanor. "Its been over two years since I've seen dad. Sometimes I feel like it should stay that way, that I should never go back after all the drama I caused. Being responsible for getting him killed. He wasn't just my brother... he was a son, a captain, a fiancé, a father..." the words get stuck in your throat, but you will not allow yourself to break apart again. You promised him you would be okay. You cannot collapse again. "Y/n," your mother's gentle and smooth voice nurtures your ears, but you notice a wave of sadness hit her, realizing that everything she saw about his future all those years ago was confirmed. She still hates the fact that she's always right, no matter what. Much like you, she wishes she could be wrong for once.

"Quit blaming yourself, first of all. Second, I don't think your father would be upset if you went home. In fact, I think he's waiting on you to allow him to come back. From what I know about him, he's most likely waiting for your move. He's terrified to lose you, but he already is the longer you avoid him." Thinking over her point, you still feel undecided on what to do. He was pretty pissed off by what you said about Tamara. You wish you could forget about her and her antics. You just don't know what you would say, because no matter what, he would never change his mind about her. She's still "perfect" in his eyes.

Unless...

"What's stopping you from going?" Your mother interrupts your thoughts. Well, you never really thought about that. What is stopping you? After taking a few seconds to figure it out, you come up with your best answer, "I promised Captain Levi I would come back." You respond, but realize that is not what your mother was looking for. To her, it sounds like an excuse. "No, I mean, what is really stopping you from going home?" Fidgeting in your seat, you feel uncomfortable opening up so much, not really used to it since no one ever listened to you throughout your life. No one ever believed you. "I guess the fact that I'd be going back to bad memories, reliving trauma with every corner I turn there. Not to mention, the entire island hates our guts. In all honesty, I would only go back for my dog and best friend. Maybe Quincy, but only to make fun of him." You release a held in sigh, not realizing how shaky it was from nearly holding your breath too long. Nodding, your mother listens carefully, "but not for your father?" She quirks a brow. "I don't know if I can go back just yet," you repeat, staring off into the distant horizon, "unless... maybe you would go with me?" There it was, your unfinished thought from a few moments ago.

Please?

Your words do not surprise her, finally understanding other's perspectives when you are hardly fazed by their questions. Even you forget she can read your mind. Its odd to be on the other side. "Back to Krolva? I'm not sure, either. Its been decades, Y/n." You can tell she's pondering over the thought, though. "You wouldn't let me have bragging rights for knowing you were alive this whole time?" You joke lightly, making your mother grin. "It might be too soon for me as well." She sighs, slowly losing the grin. "So, you'd let me walk back through my door and be embarrassed instead? Got it." You nod, hoping you can still convince her, but the older woman only chuckles. "I think we shouldn't rush it. If you're not ready, I'm not either. Don't operate on other's timelines, go at your own pace. If its not right, then its not right." You hate that she's right again, but she is. "I guess it would be dangerous to go back now." You finally agree.

Thinking over her answer some more, you decide to ask, "would you ever go back, though? To meet Quincy? Dad?" You're genuinely curious if she was planning to play this "deceased" charade for the rest of her life. The question is uncomfortable and you notice from her body language, but its evident that its not the first time she's thought about the possibility. "I would hate to disrupt their lives with the shocking news, ruining their routine of what is finally normal to them. Your father's happy and moved on," she starts, her aging (color) eyes steady on the darkening horizon, "I'd be afraid to scare them, thinking they're actually seeing a ghost." The comment makes you snicker, pulling your knees up to wrap your arms around, "at least they would understand me then... but you really wouldn't see Quince?" You focus your gaze on her, her own attention still on the horizon. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I'd rather it be your brother's idea to meet me. I don't want to force anything he's not comfortable with. It would be hard enough if you broke the news that I'm alive."

Why does she always have to be right?

The constant guilt never stops. Here you are, holding onto another secret so big it would cause catastrophe. How the hell can you keep it to yourself and only yourself this time? "I can't believe you expect me to hold onto this secret even longer... indefinitely." You sigh, dropping your gaze to your hands as you pick at your skin. "There would be no secret holding," you feel her eyes on you, "you said you're not going home for awhile." Her response makes you mentally curse, but also you feel relieved at that. "Right." You mumble, realizing there's no one to hide her from while you're on this side of the sea. They already know who she is, its just your brother, father, and best friend who don't know she's alive.

Maybe this side isn't so bad after all.

"Now," your mother speaks up, turning her body to face yours, "I've been itching to ask about that bandage on your face, what happened?" Her tone shifts to a more concerned one, almost making you chuckle. "Its nothing, I'm fine." You shake your head, but the expression on her face doesn't buy it. "Its just a scratch!" You wave it off, trying your best to downplay it so she doesn't have to worry, however it seems there will be worrying, as she already reaches for your face to turn it her direction. "I may be new in your life, but I'm not new to life. I know a gash when I see one." She releases your face, shaking her head in disapproval.

Well, she doesn't have to know that Zeke did-

"He did what?" Your mother immediately snaps her head your direction before she had the chance to get up. "Whoops..." you breathe out, totally forgetting she would find out anyway. "That little asshole..." You hear her mutter to herself as she finally stands up from the makeshift wood seat, probably off to find supplies to address your nearly half missing cheek. Even though you only met her a few weeks ago, you cannot help but feel strangely connected. Questions about yourself you had in the past are getting answered every day, all of your unexplained quirks and mannerisms finally make sense. Its definitely best you hold off going home for a bit longer. You finally have the chance to get to know your mother without humanity's survival depending on you, so you'll consume every moment you have now.
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"What do you think you're going to do next?" You wonder, arms wrapped around yourself as you trudge beside Conny on the long journey back to Fort Salta. Luckily, it wasn't too far from where you met up with your mother. Still, its enough to make your legs hurt. "Not sure, probably go back one day eventually. I'd like to see my mom again, maybe bring her over here since Yeagerists are still present on Paradis." He makes a point. Its really not safe at all to go back anytime soon. With Yeagerists still littering the streets, who knows how close you'd make it to the shoreline before being struck down.

Shit... I may never see my family again.

You fear for Mikasa's safety, but hopefully... they'll be understanding once they realize she's brought Eren's head along- "Gross..." you mumble to yourself after having that thought, causing Conny to quirk a brow at you. "Huh?" He scrunches his nose, eyes up/down/straight on you. "Oh," you shake your head, "just thinking to myself, sorry." You explain, almost biting the inside of your injured cheek, but you catch yourself. "But you're right, its not safe to go home yet. Maybe one day we can plot a break-in." You shrug, suddenly regretting your choice of words. However, Conny only chuckles sadly. "Yeah, I think we can get some pointers from someone." He suggests, your mind showing images of Annie and Reiner... not to mention Bertholdt. "Yeah, not a bad idea." You exhale from your nose, lightly brushing your fingers against the fresh bandage on your cheek. "Really not a bad idea." You quietly add, thinking of how you would ever get back through the- wait, there's no more walls. Well, how you would get to step foot back on Paradis.

One day. I promise. Just not today.

"I hope they're not too far behind." Conny changes the subject, glancing over his shoulder. Doing the same, you half turn to walk sideways to keep up with Conny, eyes scanning the dark horizon for two silhouettes. You want to say you see two fuzzy figures way off in the distance, but your eyes are probably playing tricks and seeing what you want to see. Pausing to close your eyes as not to trip and fall, you concentrate on feeling heartbeats, eventually hearing them pulse in your ears after a few seconds. "They're close, don't worry." You reply once confident, turning forward again to jog a few feet/meters to catch up again. "Good. I'm taking a break from rescue missions." Conny sighs in relief, keeping his head forward. Half grinning, you nod in agreement, just slightly behind him, "me too."

Your mother had stayed back a few extra minutes after you and Conny had left to return to your squad. She said she was going to gather some of the few supplies they salvaged after the shipwreck caused by Falco's transformation then bring Yelena along. You still feel bad about her broken arm, but she was in kahoots with Eren. You can't help empathizing though. Plus, you can only imagine how your mother is either babying her or making her carry a whole load of shit- supplies. It seems either scenario can be expected, but you're leaning towards the latter. Shit... she reminds you of yourself.

"I don't know what the future has in store, but we should build a cabin. A big ol' cabin just for us friends. You know, like back in training days." Conny imagines, gaining your attention again. However, the statement makes you furrow your brows. "I wasn't in training, Conny. Remember?" You start to chuckle, facing his side profile before he sharply turns to face you as well, "wait- oh! Right, you weren't there... I forgot." He shakes his head like he had to start his thoughts over. "Feels like you were though... we went through so much shit its starting to blur together, you know?" Conny says. As much as you agree, you still have to say, "or maybe you're just old?" You joke, making him roll his eyes. "I do like the cabin idea though." You add before he can argue about how he's not "old." "Thanks for the distraction. I really needed it after today. And... everything else leading up to it." Conny mumbles, a bit embarrassed it seems. "Yeah, no problem. I guess that counts toward my debts to you." You reply. Conny hesitates then nods, "I guess it can count." He grins.

Silence falls upon the both of you for some time, continuing forth, each hoping to make it back soon. Its been a long time since anyone has properly rested, years really. You can hardly wait to sleep without the thought of wars happening. You wonder what the others will do now that you're free. Do you all shake hands and go separate ways, never to speak again? You certainly hope not. You've grown a strong attachment to everyone that the thought of separating makes you sad. You really don't know, your body and mind are too tired to attempt peeking into the future. You don't even know what you'll eat for breakfast at this point. Too exhausted, you feel like any other average person right now. Unknowing. Clueless. Vulnerable.
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It was nearly dawn when you returned to Fort Salta, and the realization that the others had literally gone to the fort for lodging made you want to drop to the ground on the spot. You thought you were done walking for the day, but alas you had even more ahead of you. Close to an hour later, you, Conny, your mother, and Yelena reached the top of the fort, going into the closest hangar to pass out for the remainder of the night. The last thing you cared about was where you slept, as long as it wasn't outside in the cold desert, you were happy. You could handle the cool, hard floor of a hangar for a night. However, your exhaustion and lack of pickiness did not stop the intrusive, graphic nightmares that night.

Echoes of people screaming in terror as they fled, desperate to get out of hell's path. The cries of children as they got separated from their families, losing them to that cliff. To the footprints that nearly trampled all of humanity, haunting them. You envy the people who couldn't hear them, to witness and experience the horror from their perspectives. To be shoved off that cliff, plummeting to the cold, dark, and harsh sea below. They wanted to live. Some jumped. Some fell. Either way, neither wanted that outcome.

Rewatching those innocent people fall, the tears streaming down their faces blend with the saltwater of the sea as they drown. The same cry of that one baby you heard resurfaces, reminding you of how their mother is gone. Yet... you have yours. How dare your mother still be alive when that baby is orphaned. Not even one memory of her will live on with that child. Guilt, guilt, guilty... that baby was once you. However... that baby will never have the inkling of their mother being alive. Its proven. She's gone and she's gone forever. No father either. You had the luxury of believing it to be false... and you were right. That baby is not you.

When you feel a pair of hands on you, gripping your shoulders tightly, you whip your head around and sharply inhale, not expecting to see the Captain right there. His presence makes you feel a small sense of calm in the storm billowing inside your dark, twisted mind. You drink up every millisecond you have of peace with him, the sun to break through your stormy clouds. Somehow... he's always there when you need him. However... something about him isn't right... jolting yourself awake. Gasping in the real world, you regain consciousness and immediately notice your mother crouched beside you, hand lifting off your shoulder. Slowly sitting up as the memories of your dream resurface, your visible cheek reddens, turning away so she does not see. "What time is it?" You mumble, still avoiding eye contact, but she catches onto your strange behavior. When she doesn't answer, you quickly glance her direction only to notice the confused expression on her face.

Dammit.

Quietly exhaling as she moves on, clearly not wanting to question it, she parts her lips, "I overheard the Marleyans saying they're taking the train back to see what else remains. We should catch a ride out of here too." She explains, looking towards the large sliding door that was cracked open. The first thing you think of, is being relieved that she's not asking about your dream. "What about the others?" You then wonder, stretching your arms over your head before standing up, joints cracking from how stiffly you slept. "They're coming along. It was actually Annie's father's idea to sneak us onboard." Your mother answers, waving her hand to hurry you along. "Really?" You furrow your brows, following her out the sliding door to see the pink and orange sunrise.

Did I really get that little sleep?

"Yeah, he figured since you all stopped the rumbling, the least he could do was help out in return." She quickly nods. "They're already headed that way with the supplies Yelena and I brought. So hop to it." She rushes you, pulling you out of the hangar by your wrist. "What about my gear though? I need to grab it-" "Already got it taken care of. I woke you up at the last minute since you walked all day and night." Your mother cut you off, leading you to the train cars.

You just barely make it in time, the engine already starting to move, causing you to jog to catch up to the cracked open boxcar. Jumping inside, you turn around to pull your mother in, then helping her push the door shut enough to leave only a single, thin beam of light in from the sunrise. So much has happened and you've been awake for approximately four minutes, so your mind is still playing catch up. Before you have time to comprehend, you sense the presence of others in the boxcar, body twisting again to spot four silhouettes sitting parallel to you. Jean, Conny, Armin, and Captain Levi who sits in his own corner, which you feel a bit embarrassed to be in the presence of.

Just Levi. There's nothing to be Captain of anymore.

You have to mentally remind yourself, but it'll take time to adjust. Still, the lack of formality feels wrong. Armin was an easier adjustment since the title only lasted a few hours. "The others are in a different car," Armin explains first when you notice him, "I don't have much of a plan yet, besides riding along until there's somewhere we can hop off for supplies." He blinks, shifting his gaze to the beam of light that gradually grows brighter. "I don't expect anyone to follow along the whole time, but I'm trying to do what's best for now. Keep pushing forward to survive every day. Shelter, food, tools, anything to start living a normal life again." He adds, making you nod. "That makes the most sense." You respond, noticing the other males already knew of the "plan."

"I don't know what everyone's plan is, but I figured it'd be logical to recuperate before whatever it is you all do next." The blonde's focus then travels around the clattering boxcar, his voice and attention distant, understandably. He still looks shaken up. "I'm staying here for now. Maybe, somehow, bring my mom over." Conny answers. "Same for me." Jean pipes in, leaning back against the wall behind him. "I'm staying." Levi gives his response after a few moments. Glancing at your mother first, you turn back to Armin. "Same as Conny and Jean. Staying here for now." Who knows how long it'll be before you decide to go back home?

As silence falls again, you do your best to ignore the Cap- Levi, however you feel his eye burning a hole through the back of your head. Why though? What did you do? Trying to take your mind off of it, since you can't really read his mind, you break the awkward silence, "well, Conny suggested a big cabin for us all to live in." You speak up, waiting for another conversation to start. Jean is the first to react, snorting at the thought, "a cabin for all of us to share? I don't know how that would work out." He shakes his head. "Great. Now he's gonna shit on my idea to steal it for himself." Conny sighs, making you chuckle slightly, "no he's not." "That does sound nice." You hear Armin quietly say, his eyes trained on the wooden floor.

The wheels of the engine screech uncomfortably loud against the tracks, making half of you cover your ears, wondering what the commotion is. With your mother being closest to the cracked door, she pushes it open a bit more to peek out, the wind blowing her (color) hair into a mess. "Just a curve." She announces once looking over her shoulder so you can hear her voice over the wind and the train. "There's still lots of desert to cover, but we should be hitting mountains soon." She adds, looking back out.

Your mother always considered Paradis to be her home, but you can't stop thinking about how this is where she's from. Now, you'll be living here too. It'll be hard to get used to it, but if your mother could do it, so can you. She made a wonderful life out of her time on Paradis, so maybe this is your turn to have that same life. A life where you can be free, not hated for your powers. How could your mother leave that all behind to suffer behind those walls, hiding her true self for all those years? You figured it'd be hell to her.

"I'd give up my talents any day if it meant I had you."

Blinking, you turn just in time to see your mother facing you again, only briefly. A small, gentle smile is on her face, reassuring you of her past choices. She gave up so much to live on Paradis.

"I had the choice of being used, or being useful."

Subtly nodding, she turns to close the door a bit again, sitting beside the crack. You can do this. You need the change, but you'll still miss some aspects from your home. The more you think about it, that cabin really does sound nice. You can all unwind and relax for once. First, you just have to clean up the mess that was left. Plus... the trauma caused to all those people out there.

"Get comfy everyone, we've got a ways to go unless you plan on ditching halfway." You hear your mother speak, earning nods from the others in your boxcar. "How far do you think we should go?" Jean asks, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Depending on how intact the tracks are, I'd say before Lakua, which is a big military base. I assume if it hasn't been trampled upon, we won't receive warm welcomes right off the bat." Your mother responds. "So we should ditch right before Lakua to avoid any conflict with the remaining military?" Jean follows up, earning a nod from your mother. "Honestly, I think our best bet is to shelter between Fort Salta and Lakua for now. The military will need lots of convincing, which will happen eventually. Just not today. Anyone is free to trek elsewhere though." You all nod at her words.

I definitely don't want to see the destruction in person.

"How are we gonna let the others know?" Conny wonders after some time, scanning across the boxcar. Humming, Jean glances up and gets an idea, "there," he points at the metal ceiling to a trapdoor. "Roof access." Is all he says to answer Conny's question. "Yeah, but who's going to volunte-" "I'll go." You state before the younger male has the chance to finish. "I can sense which car they're in. It'll take me five minutes or less." You already push yourself up from the floor, searching the far end of the boxcar for any crates to hoist you up that high. "Absolutely not, idiot." The voice of your C- Levi catches you off guard, your head quickly turning his direction. You even sense your mother's surprise as she too looks his way from the abrupt mockery, "excuse y-" she starts, but you speak up, unfazed at this point, "and why not?" You decide to challenge him now that you technically don't have to answer to him.

Maybe I can get used to this easily.

"Do you know how clumsy you are? One slip and the other half of your face is shredded. Plus, we still need you." Levi answers your question, stoically as always.

Need me?

"Being used or being useful."

Your mother's internal words repeat in your mind, reminding you of the reality of your abilities. So what is it? What's it going to be, Levi? Are you being used to be needed? Or wanted to be useful? You desperately want to ask to find out which one it is, but you bite back your tongue, not having the time to debate your true purpose. Instead, you simply ignore his response, striding to the opposite end of the boxcar to drag over a crate from the shadows. "5 minutes or less." You remind the others, positioning the crate before stepping on, staring up at the trapdoor from below, studying it. You realize a latch is probably on the outside keeping it locked, so you have to hope by whatever means that its unlocked. However, it's still out of your reach.

I need one more crate.

"Actually..." you purse your lips before your eyes land on Jean, as he's the (second) tallest of the group, "Jean, can you boost me up the rest of the way?" You ask, glancing his direction. Not even hesitating, he pushes himself off the floor, stepping onto the crate as well. Focusing on the trapdoor again, you quickly peek at his clasped hands, ready to assist. Suddenly, you sense irritation in the small space from a source that's unfamiliar to you. You're used to feeling emotions from all your comrades considering they're open minded, so you know this emotion is coming from...

Levi.

Then, you raise your foot, making contact with his hand and at the same time, being raised enough to push through the trapdoor, somehow lucky enough that the latch wasn't locked. Climbing straight through, you grab the sides of the trapdoor, pushing your upper body up and out of it before your legs follow, wind whipping past your face and hair (disregard if you don't have, show, or have very short hair). Attempting to center your gravity and not slip off the top of the boxcair, you sit on your bottom before leaning to the side to bring yourself to your hands and knees, carefully pushing yourself up. Knees slightly shaky from the speed of the train and height, you take in a deep breath, closing your eyes to hopefully relax enough to feel the others out.

There.

Three cars ahead. You confirm, slowly inching yourself closer to the edge of your own boxcar, eyes unable to help but shoot straight down between the two cars. Gravel and tracks zip by beneath the engine, the couplers bouncing each time the engine passes onto a new separate piece of track. Swallowing, you drag your eyes back up, hoping to forget about fear long enough to actually get to the others. You already volunteered, there's no chickening out now. Especially with Jean and Conny at the ready to make fun of you. Hell, even Levi would. You've faced Titans head-on and soared at incredible heights thanks to ODM Gear, what makes you hesitant to jump over a few moving boxcars?

"Keep fighting..." you mumble to yourself, cautiously backing up while watching over your shoulder, "keep fighting..." getting into position, you prepare yourself. Sprinting forward, you leap over the first car, heart pounding against your chest when you skid to a stop, arms straight out to the sides to regain balance. Catching your breath for a moment, you have to pat yourself on the back for making it once out of- "I have to do that two more times..." you sigh in disbelief, just now realizing the reality of the situation. "Please don't fall, please don't fall, please don't fall..." you beg, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you stare ahead at the next jump.

"Hey!" You suddenly hear a voice shout from behind you, almost being lost in the rapid wind. Whipping your head around, you spot Jean's head peeking out of the trapdoor, his mullet blowing in the wind, but not in the majestic battle stallion posing on a cliff way, more like a mop caught in a severe storm way. "You're wasting time!" Is all he shouts before ducking back down into the boxcar, your eyes rolling at the statement. He really is one to motivate.

Taking in a deep breath, you slowly exhale as you prepare for the next jump, finding it hard enough to keep your balance steady on the rickety tracks. The jump is pretty far without your gear too, the thought of making one wrong move and falling between the cars to get crushed under the wheels makes you feel warm and fuzzy- not. You've survived this long, you can't let a slip up to be run over by a train be the thing that ultimately takes you out. How embarrassing would that be? It should sound more heroic.

Exhaling, you dash towards the next car, springing yourself off the roof. Just as your inches/centimeters away from landing on the other side, the boxcar rocks terribly, screwing you up. Boots touching the roof, you slip and land on your left side with a decently loud crash. Grunting, you attempt to hold on tightly while the car continues to shake, your eyes trailing up to see the other cars ahead still shaking as well. "Shit..." you breathe out, quickly pushing yourself up on trembling legs, realizing you're better off crawling than standing. Crouching back down low, you begin to crawl across the remaining part of the roof until you get close to the other side, the last jump.

I don't have much time.

As the boxcars tremble with your legs, you have to be quick before the tracks completely fuck everything up. You sense that you're approaching very close to where the rumbling reached, which caused the tracks to warp beneath you. Its only a matter of time before the train actually derails. You have to get out of here, ditch the train and go on foot again. Swallowing a stressed-induced lump in your throat, you prepare yourself one last time. Beyond tired, but motivated to serve as a soldier, you hurdle over the shaking cars. That is until-

No...

Feeling warmth around your ankle, the tops of the boxcars slowly disappear as your vision drops below them, mind and life slowing down. You swear your arms are frantically swinging to catch yourself, but really, they're as slow as a feather in a gentle breeze. Unable to blink, something hard strikes the back of your head, sending it to curl forward, eyes landing on the coupler as you descend closer and closer to it. Just as you're about to look up again, the previous quiet and slow dreamlike state you were in abruptly returns to reality, wind whipping and howling between the narrow space of the boxcars, nearly deafening you. The wheels on the warped tracks screech loudly in your ears, barely able to hear your own thoughts. In a blink, your eyes widen when you realize you're staring back up at the top of the boxcars, except a strange figure is between you, and your head is hovering over the racing tracks.

H...w...'d I ...i...s ...h...s?

You still can't fully hear your thoughts, hands tightly wrapped around the figure's arm as they clutch the fabric of your (color) top. Their other arm linked around a bar to hold onto the boxcar you tried to jump onto. You fear the grip on your shirt is enough to tear and drop you right onto the tracks. Fingers starting to go numb, you fight to keep your head high enough to not hit the tracks, neck burning in pain. "I knew you'd be on here!" The figure finally speaks in a deep, twisted voice, unrecognizable to you. Leaning closer, away from the shadows, you see their face and uniform, realizing its a Marleyan soldier.

T...e ...ra...n!

Somewhat able to comprehend your thoughts, you squeeze your core tighter to spare you a few more seconds above the tracks, "t-the train!" You gasp, shirt collar digging into the back of your already sore neck, "rumbling... it's gonna derail!" You manage to say, watching the man's face scrunch at your words. Gritting his teeth instead, he begins loosening his grip, one finger slowly slipping at a time, your heart beating faster with each retraction. "P-Please!" You shake your head, begging at this point as you feel the heat of the tracks beneath your head. In a matter of seconds, your hair is going to get caught and possibly rip your head off (disregard if you don't show, have, or have very short hair).

"If Secretary Müller can't have you, no one can! It's only fair. We wouldn't want you to slip into enemy hands again." The soldier chuckles darkly, only one finger hooked around the fabric of your shirt now. Knuckles a few shades lighter from how tightly you hold onto his arm, you give one last effort to pull yourself up, body screaming from how sore your muscles are. "P-lease! The t-train..." you pause to take a breath, "de... derail! Its gonna derail!" You manage to shout at the same time as a loud clunk is heard, causing your eyes to widen even more if possible. You feel the boxcar's wheels lift off the tracks, life turning slow again. Your hands lose contact with the soldier's arm, the last thing you see being his finger slip from your shirt in time with the deafening sound of a crash.

Pl...a...e...

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Words: 8,014

12/18/23
Ah! Its been so long since I've updated, my apologies! I'm so glad this is a long chapter though, I was nearly at 8,000 words and I decided to keep going until I hit the next thousand.

Anyway, this is the first official headcanon chapter besides the prologue! How exciting is that? :') Once again reminding everyone that everything at this point is going to be headcanon until the actual ending of the show which won't be for a long time!

As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to work on the next one! Until next time! <3

~AlpineBreadStick