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tsukidrama · 2 years

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please be... alive

[ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ← ] [ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ← ] { ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ }

ᴀɴɴɪᴇ ʟᴇᴏɴʜᴀʀᴅᴛ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ / ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴀɴᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢѕ: graphic depictions of (canon-typical) violence, blood/gore and dead bodies, betrayal, angst/hurt, religious trauma, and references to child abuse

Summary: You finally learn the truth about who Annie really is, but find that you're still in denial until it's too late. The past catches up with you in an unexpected way. (also known as Reader and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day)

cottagecanon | ao3 | wattpad | art | ♫

Word Count: 17.4k

Author’s Note: sorry just sorry, all around. this chapter took me forever to write. life stuff and also because for some reason with this one i've been overwhelmed by the fear of Being Cringe?? i don't really care about that so i'm not really sure why

thank you so very much to the lovely @eiimikos for agreeing to beta read this for me! i appreciate you & your time more than i can properly express considering ... the content. QUEEN SHIT ONLY!

“State your name for the record, please,” says the military officer, their pen scratching against the top sheet of a hefty stack of files.

“Cadet Lastname…” you reply nervously, “Y/N.”

Another scratch of the pen, and the officer adjusts their glasses. You haven’t been in the Survey Corps long enough to learn everyone’s names, but you recognized this one – they’re a Section Leader.

One of the nice ones, if you remembered correctly. Though now that you’re up close, they’re a lot more intimidating than you had anticipated, even if they are a little… kooky?

“Alright cadet, let’s go ahead and get started. I assume that you know why you’re here.”

You twiddle your thumbs underneath the table. “I know that everyone in my training class is being interviewed. It has to do with the failed expedition, right?”

“Yes. As you know, we’re looking for what might be behind the attacks on the Scouting Legion. We suspect it to be an Intelligent Titan hiding within our midst.”

“And you think I know something about that?” you ask. Suddenly, you’re scared. Alarm bells start going off in the back of your head and there’s a pit gnawing in your stomach.

“We have reason to believe you’re well-acquainted with our primary suspect,” Hanji continues as your stomach drops, “Tell me everything that you know about Annie Leonhardt.”

It’s like your entire world slows down. Your gut twists as nausea bubbles up your throat. Trying to remain calm seems impossible, and you’re sure that your physical reaction gives you away. Sweat drips down your brow as your heart races, your pupils dilating.

Eventually, all that comes out is a tiny squeak. “Annie?”

The officer nods. Surprisingly, they don’t seem to pick up on your nervousness and instead they begin to elaborate. “Yes. Annie Leonhardt, stationed with the Military Police, graduated from the same Training Corps as you did. She was fourth in your graduating class,” they elaborate.

Your face burns. “Yeah. I – I know who she is.”

“Can you explain the nature of your relationship?” they ask, and to your horror, they start writing again.

Panic starts to set in. “Um, friends?” you say, and you break out into a cold sweat, “We’re uh… close? Um… we’re friends, I think. Uh, close friends.”

They look up at you, somewhat in amusement. It’s humiliating. You want to disappear into the floor. At least it gets them to stop writing, even if they are giving you a knowing smirk.

“You’re… close friends?” Hanji repeats.

Your face goes a bright red. You want to find a better way to define it; to explain that you did spend a lot of time together without making yourself seem like you’re some kind of teenage harlot or a stupid lust-addled kid who’s in over her head.

“Yuh-huh,” is what comes out instead.

Shifting nervously in your seat is an obvious tell, but it’s so oppressively uncomfortable that you physically can’t sit still. You scratch your cheek and push your hair back behind an ear.

“Ohh-kay, moving on then…” “During the Scouting Expedition, did you have any close contact with the Female-form Titan?”

“No, not really. I saw it, but only from a distance.”

“Her,” Hanji corrects, “not it.”

Your blood grows cold. She couldn’t be suggesting what was growing increasingly obvious with every moment. It feels like you can’t breathe – do you even want to?

“You… you think that Annie–?”

“One of your comrades has said the Titan physically resembles Leonhardt. Can you speak to this, as her… uhm, close friend?”

Something clicks into place that makes you go entirely rigid. It… did. Even beyond the outward monstrous traits and visible muscle, your brain suddenly makes sense of certain details that just didn’t fit. Why HAD the Female Titan looked so familiar? Why did you feel like you recognized the way it held itself up, or the way it moved while it ran?

No, this was Annie you’re talking about. You knew her. You LOVED her. If she was caught up in this somehow, it had to be a mistake. You wish that you could talk to her… It would make you feel a lot less conflicted if you could get her side of the story here. You’re hesitant to say anything that might get her in more trouble than she was already in.

Finally, you answer. “Well, Annie has blonde hair, too?” you squeak. It’s weak, and both of you know it.

In return, you get a dead-eyed glare. “I see… That’s really all you have to say about that?”

You want so badly to be able to trust Annie. If you could find her and ask her to explain all this evidence, to explain her weird and sketchy behavior, maybe it would make some sense. Maybe you could help her, or at the very least figure out what to tell the military for them to take her into captivity peacefully…

You feel yourself starting to shake. “Just that — it’s not her,” you mutter, “it can’t be her. She wouldn’t do this.”

Hanji looks up at you, glasses glinting in the firelight. They give you an odd look, one of pity.

“All the evidence is pointing in another direction,” they explain. Although their intention is to convey seriousness, the harshness in their voice makes you shrink away. “Either you didn’t know her as well as you think you do, or you’re hiding something too. I want to let you know that if you’re in league with those who wish to bring harm to–”

“–No!” you interrupt, “I would never do that. Never!” Immediately you cover your mouth, but Hanji still gives you a stern look.

“I’m sorry…” you say, and curse yourself for how much it sounds like an afterthought.

They don't acknowledge it anyway. Another few moments are filled with the sound of pen on paper, then they flip a page.

“If there’s something you know, you need to tell me now. The longer you keep this information to yourself, the less trustworthy you seem. I want to be able to talk to you freely, Y/N. The next step from here is a jail cell.”

You’re sweating, but a chill runs down your spine. This was very quickly getting a lot more serious than you thought was possible. “You can trust me… I really think that you’re wrong about Annie, though. She’s not as heartless as everyone else thinks.”

You’re getting increasingly shrill, but Hanji is surprisingly listening intently. They nod, then close the file and set the pen down on top of it.

Now, they approach you on a personal level. “You care about her, right?” they ask.

Your blush returns. “What?”

“It’s okay. You’re young. You’re allowed to have feelings.”

“That’s not even the point I’m making. Listen to me, I know her,” you insist, “and she would tell me if she had killed anyone – I know that she would have told–”

Your voice dies in your throat as you remember all the odd things she’s said over the years that don’t add up. All of the apologies for seemingly no reason, the guilt and overwhelm when hearing about the victims of the walls, and especially after the Battle of Trost.

Especially after Marco died.

Your senses blurs together as you think about everything she’s ever said to you in a new light. You feel physically sick, freezing and burning hot, alight with pain and heartbreak but also completely numb. Annie’s voice echoes in your head, and your consciousness is bombarded with the memories of things she said that didn’t quite add up.

“I’m not a good person,” she had said. “Maybe you should hate me,” she had said. “You don’t understand. Maybe I AM getting too attached…”

You’re an idiot for not seeing it before. How could you overlook such obvious guilt, such strange behavior? Are you really so lovestruck that none of the weird things she’s said have conveyed otherwise?

“I’m not the kind of person you can take home to your parents.” she told you once. You’d been so quick to shove off your parents that you didn’t stop to think about what she meant by that.

“What I mean is that it’s me, and I know I’ll screw it up at some point… I know that you care about me, but I don’t deserve an easy life.” she had told you. You thought she was being self-derogatory. “I’m too much of a coward to deserve your kindness, or your love,” she’d said. Even if she was speaking from her heart, you hadn’t entertained the thought that she was being objective.

Tears well up in your eyes. You want to disappear into your forearms. Is this really happening?

Hanji gives you another sad, pitying look. “She has, hasn’t she? That’s what’s happening right now, isn’t it? Something doesn’t add up and you’ve just realized it.”

“I – I… she…” you stutter, too overwhelmed to confirm, “No. It couldn’t be…”

A long beat passes where you’re given the space to process your feelings. Hanji puts down their pen and closes the file to talk to you properly, face to face. You lift your head to meet their gaze, though it still hangs low with shame.

“Yes, it can. And it is. She is,” Hanji tells you, sternly. A chill goes down your spine at the conviction with which they speak. “I need to know everything. Did she ever tell you anything about a goal? Or a motive?”

“No… just to join the Military Police. Normal stuff… she wanted to stay alive.”

They look up at you, and their expression is surprisingly soft. “We want to keep her alive, too. I think it’s important you understand that.”

You nod. “Okay.” Although you’re still not comfortable, you feel a little bit more at ease after hearing that.

“Well go on, then,” they urge.

Wait, you’re supposed to say something? You break out into a cold sweat.

What are they expecting, for you to break down every step of your relationship? That seems counterproductive at best and invasive at worst. You feel yourself shriveling right back up.

“Uhh, what’s the question?” you squeak, knowing full well that one was not asked. This is much more pressure than you’re prepared to handle.

Hanji just sighs, seemingly disappointed. You wonder what information they could possibly be expecting for you to volunteer under these circumstances. Apparently much more than you’re capable of or are comfortable with.

They move on. “Well, what about the night that my two captured Titans were killed? Were you aware of her whereabouts in the early morning the day before your graduation?”

You freeze. That was the night she had climbed in through your window.

It felt like ages ago at this point, but between the undeniable weirdness when she came in, the steaminess just after, and finally the ‘I love you’ note, ensures that you certainly won’t be forgetting that encounter anytime soon.

The decision you made back then to stay quiet looms in the back of your mind. You swallow dryly, now knowing for certain that it was the wrong choice.

“She… she came to see me,” you admit. “Before the morning rounds…”

Immediately, Hanji’s look sharpens. They look you straight in the eye. “When did you see her and how long did she stay? Did she visit you before or after the Titans were killed?”

“Early, before the sun,” you stutter, “She stayed for about an hour. I think it was after.”

Suddenly, an accusatory finger pointed toward you. “So she told you that she had killed them?”

You blanch and scramble to correct yourself. “No! No, she didn’t say a thing. All I know is that she showed up. She was acting weird.”

“Elaborate, please.”

You start blushing, and you hope that the yellowish light doesn’t give way to how red you’ve become. “I don’t know. She came through the window and she had on a full set of ODM gear. She wasn’t talking a lot.”

“A full set of ODM gear – does that include blades?” Hanji asks, “What did she say while she was there?”

“Yes,” is all you reply with. You feel the stare it earns you and you shut down a little bit.

“Why did she visit you?” she asks, more pointedly. “What did you talk about?”

You stare straight ahead and try to hold your face together. You do not make eye contact. “Uh… she really was NOT talking very much.”

All you receive is a blank look in return, and a nod signaling for you to elaborate.

You squirm in your seat. “She was… doing other stuff?” you say.

Holy shit, really? Is there a way to go back in time and unsay something?

Hanji stares at you for a few seconds trying to comprehend. The wheels turn in their mind, then they give you a bit of a look and an arch of the eyebrow.

“Is that teenager lingo for ‘sex’ these days?” they ask. “All this vaguity is going above my head at this point.”

The shame becomes too great, and you collapse with your head in your arms. Your ears are steaming.

“I’ll go ahead and take that as a yes,” Hanji muses, chuckling to themself. “You know, you ARE allowed to have sex. Nobody with a pulse will judge you for that.”

Did you seriously just admit in a military interview, to a superior officer, that you’d gotten laid?

You’re not sure how to react, and you stay frozen up. “I’m not going to… get in trouble?”

“Get in trouble?” they ask, like they have no idea what you’re talking about.

Your blush is what eventually clues them in to the implications of what you’re asking. “Ohhh! Oh, of course not. That’s not what the issue is here. All I need to know is if she said anything about the Titans that morning, and anything else is your business. ”

“No, she didn’t,” you reply, muffled by your arms. “All she said was that she wanted to see me. I heard people yelling but she didn’t want me to look.”

“And just to confirm, you didn’t see the street below?”

“No, I didn’t,” you reply, and without even really having a specific thing in mind, you add: “I’m sorry.”

You’re sorry for being stupid. You’re sorry for not realizing what should have been glaringly obvious. Now you escalate beyond twiddling your thumbs. You graduate to full-on skin picking as you claw your cuticles haphazardly.

“I think this is the hard evidence we needed” Hanji mutters, “Your testimony confirms that Annie Leonhardt was in the vicinity at the time of the killings equipped with full gear, just as we suspected. We hope to have her in custody by tomorrow night, if everything goes according to plan. You’ll be informed about the details of the operation as needed.”

Their words make your blood run cold. You don’t want to be responsible for Annie’s downfall.

“I don’t…” you choke, fighting back tears. “I don’t want her to be hurt. I think she would come with me willingly.”

Hanji considers it. They had taken you much more seriously than any other military officer would have, and you try to be appreciative of that. Maybe the relatability that got you to open up will work the other way around. It’s clear that they have the capacity for empathy.

After a long pause and some consideration, Hanji seems to have come to a similar conclusion on their own.

“We’re open to that possibility. But if she doesn’t, we are going to use whatever force we deem necessary.”

Tears well up in your eyes. “Just let me talk to her, okay?” you beg. “Let me go with them.” Hanji has reasoned with you this far, so what is one more plea?

In response, you get another look of pity and derision. You fully expect to be denied, so when Hanji nods and gestures for you to continue, you’re not sure what to say.

Honestly, you just say whatever bullshit you think will be enough to convince them. By the time you’re released from the interview, you can’t remember half of what came out of your mouth.

Your stomach doesn’t untwist for days.

The trap goes as smoothly as anyone could have hoped at first.

Stohess is your hometown – you know the back alleys and side streets better than the other cadets, and guide them through quiet streets as the focus. You know the way better than any of them.

You remember how to get to the underground tunnels. The plan is that you’ll lead everyone downstairs. So badly you want this to go away that you find yourself praying, actually down on your knees, that the military is wrong about everything they said, that she’ll prove her innocence.

Your stomach aches from the moment you wake up. The last thing you want to do is trick her, but it’s the only way you can get face-to-face with her without it being seen as sneaky.

So when the Scouts pass through on the main road, you and Armin stand in an alleyway waiting and watching. A few of the Military Police cadets run past and as the boy next to you nudges you, you snap to attention.

Unsurprisingly, Annie hangs towards the back of the group. Your blood runs cold at the sight of the familiar way she ties her hair. It’s been so long since you’ve seen her that more than anything, you miss her.

For a split second, you forget why you’re there. She’s far enough away from everyone else that you feel comfortable calling out her name from the shadows.

“Hey, Annie!”

It’s the first and last thing that you can bring yourself to say. You had every intention to help contribute to the ruse but seeing her face makes you freeze up entirely. Helplessly, you look over at Armin.

“I can’t do it,” you whisper frantically.

His eyes widen. “What? But she’s coming over here expecting to see you.”

“Well I’m still here, aren’t I? I just need you to do the talking, okay?!”

You’re so frazzled that you’re about to start shaking him by the shoulders. Luckily, he nods in agreement just as Annie ducks into the alleyway.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as she stares at the two of you, shocked. You raise your hand to give a weak little wave and it seems to wake her up. She shakes her head, furrowing her brow.

“Why are you two dressed like that?”

Armin manages to handle the situation well considering that you’d shoved it on him at the last second. You nod beside him and actively fight to keep a grimace off of your face.

The whole time he talks you fight back nausea. Some darker emotion creeps at the edge of your mind. At first, you interpret it as guilt for tricking her. Later on, it feels more like fear.

Fear of what might happen? Fear of her? You don’t even try to narrow it down in the aftermath.

In the end, your presence is what convinces her to tag along. At first she’s apprehensive, edgy. She’s still suspicious based on the way her hackles stay up, but it’s almost like she’s trying to prove something.

She agrees because she wants to be a good person, you reason. Did your incorrect assumption her intentions were good lead to what would happen next?

For the first time ever, you’re grateful for the fact that Annie doesn’t like public displays of affection. Most of the time when the two of you walked side by side, you were itching you slip your hands into hers – but not today. Today, you stand a meter clear of her with both hands shoved in your pockets.

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen her. Every time you thought about this scenario when you reunite, you were excited to see her. You pictured yourself throwing your arms around her and kissing her face, spinning her around, and sneaking off somewhere private.

Never did you imagine that you’d be so averse to touching her. So why are you so hurt whenever she keeps the same distance? Why does it make you so upset that she didn’t pull you close as soon as she saw you?

The conversation is awkward and short-lived. You worry that she can sense that something is wrong by the way she questions the legitimacy of the plan.

Three becomes five when you meet up with Eren and Mikasa. The dark-haired boy talks quietly as he goes over the decoy plan.

If you’d been the one to explain it, you’d have given it away. The entire time you’re expecting the plan to go awry, and you’re conflicted. If you’re so convinced that she was innocent, why are you so scared right now? In retrospect, you aren’t sure how you ever thought anything else would happen.

When you reach the staircase leading underground, your stomach drops as you feel Annie tensing up beside you.

The rest of you descend the steps as she stays rooted in place. Annie stares down at the four of you with horror in her eyes, and finally, it seems to hit her. The tension is so thick that you struggle to breathe, but you will yourself to keep up a poker face.

“I’m not going down there…” she says.

She’s caught on. There’s too much tension, too much desperation in her voice. She’s not acting like herself, and it’s unnerving. The pit in your stomach expands as she and Eren argue back and forth about why she won’t come along.

She’s not damsel, or anything of the sort. It’s laughable for her to pretend like she is, and it’s everything you can do to keep yourself quiet as Eren starts to get more frantic. His voice has risen to a shout as he continues to plead.

“Quit being stupid!” he says, “Just get down here! Stop screwing around!” He’s genuinely distressed, balling his fists up as he shakes his head, red-faced.

He looks like he’s about to freak out, and you empathize with him – though you’re acutely reminded that you’re the only one who does when Mikasa snaps to quiet him.

“Eren, don’t shout!”

Annie’s gaze burns down into all four of you, but there’s something in her eyes that you know is directed at you specifically. She’s angry, moments away from lashing out.

You can’t bring yourself to look at her. You can’t bring yourself to look. When you swallow nervously, it burns like sandpaper.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Mikasa,” she says, surprisingly calmly, “because for some reason, this place has been completely deserted for a while.”

Beside you, Armin pulls the flare gun from his pocket and hides it behind his back. Mikasa holds Eren back with nothing but a look, and you wish that you could disappear from behind them.

Now that there’s no way out, you don’t want to be here anymore.

“Man… That really hurts.” Even without looking, you can sense the apathy on Annie’s face, hear it in her voice. “At what point did you start looking at me that way, Armin?”

“And you, Y/N…” her eyes move to you, where you still stare at the ground. “You won’t even do that. After everything? I thought I could trust you…”

Your eyes and nose burn as you hold back tears. Even then, you can’t lift your gaze.

Armin responds, and you’re grateful that it means you don’t have to. “Annie… Why did you have Marco’s ODM gear?” he asks. A heavy silence settles, so he elaborates: “It had all the same scrapes and bumps. I could tell, because I’d helped him do maintenance on it.”

“Yes…” she says quietly. A familiar look of regret crosses her face, and if you’d looked up you might have even felt sympathy for her, “I found it and took it.”

“Then those two titans we captured alive…” Armin continues. “Was it you who killed them?”

“Who knows… maybe you should ask her,” she sneers. You’d half-expected her to come after you like that at, but it still hurts to hear it. You can’t take it anymore and let the tears roll down your face.

When she sees it won’t get a reaction from you, she quickly returns to dispassionately looking off to the side.

She makes a tsk sound. “If that’s what you suspected a month ago why didn’t you do anything then?”

Armin continues on. “Even now I can hardly believe it. I just… wanted to believe I had it wrong. That’s why I didn’t –” he chokes, and his hand holding the signal gun trembles wildly behind, “– but what about you? The fact that you didn’t kill me back then is why we’re in this situation now.”

The silence now is heavier than ever. A gust of wind blowing in the street above is the only noise in the area. Annie’s bangs float around her head as they’re swept in the breeze. God damn, her eyes are practically sparkling. Is it bad that even now, you still think that she’s beautiful?

“Yeah… I agree with all my heart” she admits, resentfully. “I never imagined you’d end up cornering me like this… Why didn’t I do anything then?”

Finally, you gain the courage to speak up for the first time in the confrontation, even though your voice only comes out as a squeak: “Annie, please… All we want to do is talk. If you–”

“–Shut the hell up,” she interrupts, “You shouldn’t even be here. I thought we made a plan for you, and then you didn’t listen. Why would you think that I’d want to see you again?”

Her words cut into you like a knife. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. All you do is stand there like a kicked puppy. You can feel Armin and Mikasa staring at you, though the implications about your relationship seem to fly right over Eren’s head.

Everything simultaneously speeds up and slows down. It was bad enough to hear what she’s saying, but right now when you need to help her? She’s not going to let you. Some part deep inside of you finally realizes that there’s no way out of this.

It’s going to go badly, so incredibly badly.

“Just leave,” Annie spits, “run.”

She looks dark and unfamiliar as her eyes bore into you from the top of the stairs.

When you don’t immediately start running, her nostrils flare. And although she doesn’t raise her voice or even change the tone of her voice, something about the way her ring finger won’t stay still is unnerving you.

“Run.” she repeats, more emphatically. The sun against her back casts her face in shadow, but you could read her expression in pitch darkness. She looks at you with more hate than you’ve ever known her to have for you.

Everyone else maybe, but you?

You burst into tears, backing away slowly at first. Whether it’s out of fear or intuition, you do what she says. It feels too frantic, too emotional for her. Your shoulder bumps into the wall as you stagger backward looking for the way out.

Eren starts shouting up at her again, but you aren’t paying attention to the exchange anymore. Chaos interrupts as soon as you leave, but blood is rushing in your ears too loudly for you to care.

All you know is that she wouldn’t tell you to run for no reason. You sprint through the opening of the tunnel, ignoring Armin when he tries to call out for you.

Adrenaline carries you far and fast as raised voices turn to shouts, then screams. You’ve booked it halfway down the old dimly lit service tunnel before you trip over your own feet. As you lay face-down with your hands scraped up, you have a moment of intense regret.

The flare gun fires in the stairwell, and you hear people screaming above ground.

Why the fuck did you run? You need to know what’s happening. More importantly, you left Eren, Mikasa, and Armin on their own when things were going bad. You can’t be responsible for your friends’ death.

Right as you slow down, an explosion sounds from behind you, and it threatens to collapse the tunnel. Dirt showers down from between the bricks above you, and you’re very aware of being underground, especially when orange and green crackles of lightning brighten the hallway.

Panic overrides instinct, and you scramble to your feet in an instant so you can help the other three. Luckily, they swing down into the tunnel in the nick of time.

Mikasa uses her momentum to throw the boys underhanded out of the path of crumbling stone from above as Annie transforms. The three of you cover your heads with your arms as a deafening roar rips through the hallway.

“Come on, we can’t stay here…” Armin tries to explain, though his voice is shaking.

You don’t listen. Instead, you stand up in the corridor. Right now, you’re not capable of thinking. All you want is to get back to Annie, but you immediately regret it when you see that your wish has ironically, come true.

A massive skinless hand reaches down the corridor before anyone can call out to warn you. Mikasa reacts instantly, taking off in the other direction while grabbing the others by the backs of their cloaks.

The first instinct that you have is to scream, but all noise dies in your throat. You genuinely feel like you’re about to die – all you can do is dive as far as you can away and curl into a ball waiting for it to be over. You aren’t sure how long you lie there with your eyes closed.

At first, you’re upset that the others left you behind, and resentful that you weren’t on the front lines. Later on, you don’t hold it against them since you had run first. You also realize later on that you never would have been allowed near her, anyway.

Eventually, the thunderous shaking begins to fade. The hand is gone, and footsteps above signal the departure of Annie’s Titan.

More rocks fall from the ceiling, and the archways collapses the entryway almost entirely. The position you’re in protects you from the worst of the falling rocks, but you can tell that you’re bruised.

You crawl through the rubble until you’re in front of the crumbling archway. Rocks settle into place as thunderous movements from above send pebbles showering down from the unstable pile. Dust falls off of you as you stagger to your feet.

Denial sets in first. This isn’t happening, you think. You have to get back up there even if it’s just to scream helplessly up at her Titan.

You resort to climbing the pile of rocks. It’s hopeless. You’re clawing at anything you can grab, and pushing on any rock in hopes it might give, but it seems like you genuinely won’t be able to go back the way you came.

No, fuck that. You’re determined to get out of here, so you hoist yourself up on top of one of the larger boulders.

It feels futile for a good while, until one of the rocks on top loosens enough for you to roll it out of place. It creates a narrow crack you can climb through. In a haze and without thinking, you take off your ODM gear so that you’re more likely to fit.

You scrabble at the rocks beneath it, and eventually, they give as well. It’s not a comfortable fit by any means, but you manage to squeeze in feet-first. You emerge on the other side of the rock pile scraped up with rips in your uniform, but you manage to wiggle past the threshold of the broken arch.

When you successfully slide through, you immediately get knocked around as you’re swept away in a rockslide. Predictable, really. It carries you backward until you fall smack into what’s left of the stairway.

It doesn’t feel real, though somehow you find the strength to lift yourself up. You climb over both steps and displacing chunks of what was once the ceiling. For a moment you lose your footing to land on all fours.

You’ve definitely scraped your knees, but you’re surprised to see that your hands are covered in blood. You slip on a whole puddle as you try to stand, and only then do you realize that it’s not your own.

Rivulets of crimson ooze between fallen rocks. As you’re climbing out of the rubble, you begin to process the full extent of your surroundings. You realize there are bodies – dozens, at least, crushed beneath the rubble you’re trying to get out of. You’re surrounded by them.

None of this feels real.

Debris and ash cover an area that had just been clean and familiar. Buildings along the streets have holes in them, or are crumbling altogether. This is a vision or something, right? Some kind of horrible nightmare that you’ll wake up from at any moment.

Giant, shaking footsteps still quake from nearby. Dazedly, you wander toward the sound, even though you have no clue what you’re trying to accomplish. All you know is that you can’t stand around and do nothing.

It only takes a few moments after wandering out in the open for someone to grab you by the arm.

“Here she is!” shouts the man who found you. He’s not a soldier, so you try to yank your arm back and run away. Before you can get far, you’re cornered by a group of soldiers who came running as backup.

Immediately, you’re swarmed. Someone pulls your arms together in front of you while a different officer secures handcuffs around your wrists. You try to struggle, but the lock clicks before you’re able to get free.

“Section Leader, this way. We found her!”

Honestly, you aren’t entirely sure what comes over you. Anger and frustration at the situation as well as the fact that you’re being neutralized so early on takes control of you, and as soon as you’re restrained you start spitting venom at everyone around you.

“No way! I did what you assholes told me to do – why are you doing this to me?”

One of the soldiers shushes you while the other fastens a chain to the cuffs. You pull your arms away only for them to be yanked back down roughly. It’s genuinely humiliating – they’re treating you like a dog on a leash.

Before you see them, you can hear Hanji tsk-ing as they approach from behind. “I don’t know why you’re screaming at me. You ran away down in the tunnels – that wasn’t in the plan. We have a lot of talking to do, young lady.”

Simmering rage surges up within you, and you struggle to shake the grip of the soldier holding onto your cuffs. “She told me to run…!” you exclaim.

Hanji just looks at you for a few seconds. “And you listened?”

That same pitying look from back when they interviewed you comes back onto their face. “Yeah… I think you’ll stay in custody until further notice.”

Anger once again rises at their flippancy in the matter. “You’re fucking kidding me!” you seethe, “Please tell me that you’re joking right now.”

They give you a bit of a condescending look from beneath a heavy pair of goggles. ”You’ll find that I am very much not joking.”

And you do indeed.

Somebody yanks you forward by the chain, but you throw your head over your shoulder to continue yelling, “This isn’t fair! What did you expect me to do? I never wanted to go along with this shitty plan in the first place.”

Nobody is paying attention to you anymore, unfortunately. Even the soldier holding your cuffs tunes you out after a certain point, try as you might to kick up a ruckus. You stomp and clink angrily, and rattle the chain in hopes that you can gnash your teeth at someone else.

Soon after, a new pair of soldiers arrives to escort you back to the Commander. After they chat with Hanji for a bit, you’re transferred into their custody. The section leader and their squad zip away in the opposite direction while you’re pulled down a different street.

The city is still shaking from the booming footsteps a few blocks over. It makes signs in front of shops rattle and unhinge from their fixtures, while shop displays and potted plants topple to the ground. Even the river heaves, splashing up onto the banks as it’s thrown back and forth.

The three soldiers pull you through the city despite your resistance. Everybody around you is in chaos, running and clutching their valuables and loved ones to their chest. Even with all the destruction happening right in front of your eyes, you struggle to process it as reality.

High-pitched Titan shrieking reverberates from across the city, and it’s so jarring that it makes you stop in your tracks. One of the soldiers pushes you, telling you to keep on walking.

You’re actually glad that you aren’t seeing the destruction. It’s the one thing that gives you any hope. Right now you feel completely empty, gutted. Numb to the world and to everything happening around you. If you saw what was happening, you wouldn’t ever be able to forget it.

Maybe if you keep your head down, it’ll all be a bad dream. You’ll wake up back in bed the night before training corps graduation. All of this will have been some anxiety-fueled dream, and Annie will tell you the real reason she’s been so shady as of late.

And if you wake up, you’ll do it right this time and you’ll choose the Wall Brigade. Losing Annie is what isn’t worth the risk. The Survey Corps was a mistake and this time you’ll avoid the whole debacle.

All of a sudden it becomes too much. Nausea overtakes you and you stagger off to the side, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

She did this. You crawled out of a pile of rocks and dead bodies that she put there. As you look down at the drying copper stains smeared on your palms, you shake. if you had been less foolish, maybe their blood wouldn’t literally be on your hands.

You fall to your knees, and it’s all you can do to stagger above a sewer grate before you throw up. The delusion that she’ll make the choice you want her to finally fades away.

At first, your escorts try to follow you, though they let you be alone when they notice you spewing your guts out.

It’s the first time you have to genuinely process what’s happening. You’re angry at her, both for being what she is and for not telling you.

Your head spins. Again you doubt reality and pray that you wake up. The hard slats of the drain against your knees cut into already-scraped skin. The pain is real. The shriveled husk where your heart used to be is real. The emptiness inside of you is real.

A second explosion colors the city in orange and green light. Electricity hums through the air as lightning flashes brightly from the other side of the plaza – everyone in the vicinity covers their ears as another Titan screams, this one deeper in pitch.

You knew that if talking had failed, the backup plan was for Eren slug it out Titan-style with her, yet you find yourself panicked at the idea of it actually happening. Worse still, you can’t even pinpoint exactly what it is that upsets you more – the fact that this is actually happening, or the fact that you had genuinely yourself convinced it might not.

It’s incomprehensible. You can literally see the destruction all around you, but still all you want is to get through to her. If only you could talk to her…

This time when you run, it’s very intentional. Most of the guards are still keeping their distance as you hurl except for the one tied to your handcuffs. You stagger to your feet, but before the soldier can notice what you’re doing you yank the chain from his hands.

You don’t try to get yourself out of the cuffs, so you just hold the chain in your hand and get the hell out of there. You know exactly where you are – you used to come here with your family as a child, and you know exactly where to run.

The fact that you’ve memorized the alleyways and side streets in Stohess is what allows you to escape the second time. Never in your life have you been proud to come from this place, but you must admit that it comes in handy right now.

You follow the noises of destruction and the clouds of dust. It’s not easy to miss, and seeing half-crumbled buildings tells you you’re headed in the right direction. More Titan screaming, and the sounds of deafening fighting lead you exactly where you need to go.

Air rushes down alleyways, a result of the punches landing in the square. The wind whips so intensely that dust storms spin on the ground to weakly scatter dust and rocks throughout the alleyway. You run with your jacket over your head to avoid getting hit. Every gust nearly knocks you to your knees, but you continue to stagger forward.

The endurance you have is only due to the adrenaline coursing through you. Between fleeing civilians and terrified soldiers who have no idea what to do, you manage to make it onto the main street. You toss aside your Survey Corps jacket so that you won’t be as easily identified.

Nobody even looks at you as you sprint down the road. A group of soldiers zip above your head on their gear, and you’re relieved whenever they don’t pay attention to you. The road begins to slope uphill into a bridge.

You freeze in place at the sight of aTitan being thrown into a building. At first you can’t figure out who is who through the thick cloud of smoke and dust – all you can see is movement until it settles.

Your heart leaps when you see that Annie seems to have the upper hand, but then immediately feel guilty. Deep down, you want her to win. You can’t handle the thought of anything bad happening to her even still, and you feel horrible about it.

She has Eren slammed into a building. He’s pinned so that the only way he can fight back is by biting her leg, even though it’s obviously not getting anywhere. Blow after blow lands as she lets out an inhuman shriek. You hide behind the stone railing, as if that made a difference.

When you see her now, you can’t fathom that there was ever a time you didn’t recognize her Titan. It looks exactly like her, from the shape of her jaw to the blue of her eyes.

The way her hair brushes the tops of her shoulders…She’s hundreds of meters from you still, but the gargantuan proportions give you enough view to see her clearly. The way her cheeks curve, the squareness of her chin, that distinctive nose.

Standing there, you can’t justify how there was ever a time you didn’t look up at that Titan and recognize her. There had to be some kind of barrier in your brain that wouldn’t let you overlook something that seems so obvious in retrospect. That barrier had apparently blocked you from seeing a lot.

Even her body is the same. Tiny mannerisms that are intimately familiar. How could you not have immediately recognized how her arms are shaped? How did you not notice that the way that her leg extends, the way that her waist twists, is just the same as Annie?

Were you just… stupid?

Before long, she’s pummeled Eren’s head into a bloody pulp. She manages to shake him off of her eventually then backs away. You recognize her body language – she’s scared. Her shoulders are drawn together tightly, and the lack of skin only emphasizes the tension in her muscles.

The Titan looks around for a minute before she takes off running in the other direction. You’re close enough that the proximity of her footsteps knock you off your feet. You scrape yourself up pretty badly as you struggle to get back up again.

Eren isn’t moving, but he’s been through worse. You don’t try to justify it beyond that. Later you chalk it up to how rattled you were with betrayal, but a part of you wonders if you secretly wanted him to lose.

You hate that it got to this point. You hate that this had to end with a fight neither of them wanted to have.

If you hadn’t been so tongue-tied earlier than maybe none of this would be happening. You might have been able to get her to come peacefully, willingly, if you had talked to her.

Maybe it wasn’t too late, you wonder.

If you can get to her maybe she would still listen. You take off down the road in the same direction she did.

A dead soldier lies slumped against the wall, with the blades of his ODM gear still tightly gripped in his hands. It looks like he was thrown against the building, or perhaps kicked. You try to stop yourself from picturing the details of how. It’s obvious what happened with two Titans rampaging about, but while it’s still happening, you need to be able to press on.

You push the noise away and focus on angling the fallen soldier’s blade between the chain of your handcuffs. With your foot anchoring the blade in place, you pull your wrists towards you with all of your strength. It successfully snaps one of the links in the handcuffs and allows your hands to separate.

The force knocks you on your elbows. Breaking the chain didn’t get the cuffs off from around your wrists, but at least you can move your arms again.

Deeper screams from Eren’s Titan resound through the alleyways. Suddenly, you panic about not being able to see what’s happening. He sounds louder, more crazed.

To your horror, the sounds of fighting start back up again. Screams that you now recognize as Annie’s fill the air amidst Eren’s roars. You scramble back up to your feet and run in the other direction, desperate to get there before it’s too late.

Before you get to a bridge overlooking the courtyard where the fight is taking place, you see a group of Military Police running on foot. Instinctual terror kicks in at the sight of cops, and you book it down the nearest alleyway and flatten your back against the wall.

The unit passes quickly, but those forty-five seconds are enough for something significant to happen. You feel it before you see it – only one set of Titan footsteps rattle the ground. When you finally reach the bridge you’re horrified to see Annie(‘s Titan), beaten and missing a leg.

She’s climbing the wall. Everyone around you shouts in horror, with some people running in the other direction. You’re too afraid to move from where you stand so you sit there and watch in disbelief. There’s a moment (albeit a brief one) where you genuinely think she might make it over.

But as soon as you see smoke from a set of ODM gear and the glint of blades, you know it’s not going to work. You consider closing your eyes, but it feels like you’re frozen. The next minute or so – it can’t have been more – will end up replaying in your mind for years afterwards.

It feels like slow motion when she falls, with her severed fingers still rooted in a stone halfway up the wall.

At the time it feels like an eternity is passing, but later you realize it actually happened so much more quickly than you could comprehend. Events that took place in just an hour and half end up haunting you for the rest of your life.

Her landing leaves a crater in the rock below. Plumes of steam emanate from both of the Titans as they roar, with Eren jumping on her before she could have the chance to run away.

It was over as soon as Annie hit the ground.

Eren lets out a scream so deafening that you have to cover your ears. He makes several quick movements as he lunges at the already-broken form of the Female Titan. One arm flies off in one direction, then a massive leg flies in the other as they’re ripped off.

The second you see that in his rage, he’s going after her head. Even if it’s not her actual body, you can’t bear to watch. You physically cover your face to block your view. Tears of hysteria streak down your face – you know what’s going to happen, and you don’t want to see it.

An impossibly bright light suddenly shines from the middle of the square. The roars from Eren’s Titan become less enraged and more confused.

You peek between your fingers to see that the light is appearing from Annie. Eren’s Titan thrashes on top of her. He tries to pull away to no avail, but fails when his flesh practically melts into Annie’s.

Like you’d experienced many times over the last few days, you can practically hear her voice in your head as a memory replays.

“My biggest dream is to give up,” she’d said.

She had seemed so defeated when she had said that… Out of everything she’s ever alluded to and implied, this is the one thing that genuinely makes sense to you. This memory sticks out to you more than others do over the next few days.

The clear angle you have of her crying in the top of her destroyed Titan only lasts for a moment before her face is enveloped. An eerie blue aura surrounds her, illuminating her silhouette and spreading outward until all of a sudden, the entire square is lit up. There’s another flash of light, and then silence.

That silence is so much more painful than the screams. It had been better with all the fighting and destruction, just because she was here.

Eren’s Titan slumps as both of the behemoths dissolve and steam. Where Annie’s Titan used to be is a massive hunk of crystal. The light returns to normal, and just as quickly as all of this began it comes to a devastatingly anticlimactic ending.

There’s just shock in the aftermath. A long silence settles over the city that paralyzes you. Everyone else begins to move before you do.

Annie is motionless inside the rock, with her eyes closed. Somehow you know without confirmation that there’s nothing to be done. You know her well enough to know that she’s not coming out of there.

Just like that, she’s gone.

Even if she isn’t dead, she’s not going to come out of there, not after everything that just happened. All you can do is stare, shell-shocked and alone.

Soldiers on either side of you start murmuring, whispering amongst themselves. For them, the confusion wears off after a minute. As everyone around you begins to move and deal with reality, your world slows down. How is everyone doing their jobs like nothing has happened? How is it that the world continues on when the person you care about most was just taken away?

But as you sit there and stare through the distorted crystal, you realize that you don’t even know who exactly you’re mourning. Right now you can’t say confidently that you even knew her at all. Is it the real Annie that you’re afraid of being without?

Or is it the fact that you’re only realizing at this moment that you never came close to knowing her at all?

The hysteria hits quickly. Your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes and you grip the concrete railing, so tightly that it hurts your hands.

At some point, you regain control of your body, and find yourself rushing down the nearest staircase. It might be futile at this point, but you can’t resist the urge to go to her. Nobody stops you, surprisingly, as you hurtle across the destroyed square.

The air nearby is still thick with steam. As you grow closer to the crystal, the surface fogs ever-so-slightly. You fall to your knees before it, and in the process you scrape every inch of your knees that hadn’t already been scraped.

You ignore the pain, and press your forehead and the palm of your hand against the clear rock.

For the longest time you thought you were special. She opened up to you, she came to you for comfort in a way that she didn’t trust anyone else… Was that a lie? Had she been pretending all along, stringing you along for her own cruel amusement?

Or worse, had she actually cared for you in some sick and twisted way? Is your teenage fling enough to justify even entertaining the idea of forgiving her – but then again you could only do that if you could talk it through with her, and you can’t. Do you even want to forgive her?

Logically, no. But emotionally… well, you know what? Fuck your emotions – you don’t trust them anymore. If this whole experience has taught you anything, then the lesson has nothing to do with war, or with the Titans.

All you’ve learned is what it feels like to have your heart ripped out and stomped on. And yet, if you could go back in time with the knowledge you have now, you would still make a lot of the same choices.

It’s Annie who you wish had chosen differently.

The crystal is still warm. She’s alive, right? You don’t see the movement of her breathing anymore. Can she still hear you? She doesn’t need to be able to respond, you reason. Please, you think, please don’t leave me alone.

This must be the bargaining stage. It’s pathetic, and you resent the feelings that it brings up. She’s a traitor, isn’t she? A murderer, a monster. She used you.

You lied for her, and because of that she was able to kill hundreds of people. Indirectly, she’s responsible for thousands more deaths. She’s responsible for killing your grandparents, for destroying your home.

But no, that’s not the person that you knew. That can’t be the same person who you fell in love with. You go completely numb and wonder when your jailors are going to catch up with you and place you back under arrest. With their track record, it surely couldn’t be long.

As if on cue, you hear a familiar voice call out from the distance to chastise you.

“Wow!” it says “You really must be trying to raise my blood pressure! As if everything else happening today wasn’t enough.”

Hanji stands with their hands on their hips, a disapproving look plastered on their face. Soldiers march past them on either side and once again you feel the cold slap of a second pair of handcuffs pressing into your wrists.

“Augh, come on,” you protest, “I’ve already been cuffed, can’t you just re-connect the last one?”

“Sorry... you don’t get to make requests when you broke out of custody. You know that technically makes you a fugitive, right?”

You angrily glare up at Hanji as their team members restrain you further.

One of them wraps a chain around your wrists, looping it several times over and in between your arms, excessively so. You shoot them an angry look too, just for good measure.

“Stop running away and we’ll stop treating you like a flight risk,” Hanji groans. “You’re starting to become a real thorn in my side. Maybe I should pawn you off to another officer so you wouldn’t be my problem anymore.”

You pout your lip. “Do you really mean that, Section Leader? Even if I promise to tell you all of my secrets?”

They aren’t amused. All they do is narrow their eyes at you, and it comes across a bit hostile. “I don’t know how to deal with this attitude you’re developing. Cooperate if you want to. We’re going to find out as much as we can with or without your help.”

“Whatever,” you say. After a few seconds, you cross your arms and look down. “I was just trying to say that I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Hanji just looks down at you in response with their arms crossed. They really are done indulging your bullshit, aren’t they?

Embarrassed, you look off to the side to avoid eye contact. “And I’m done being in denial, or whatever. Can I just… have a moment alone with her?”

“Not a chance,” they reply, immediately. They don’t even take time to consider it, which pisses you off.

“I will, however, let you watch if you stay in this exact spot. Mobilt, give me a piece of chalk–” they only pause for as long as it takes the man beside her to dig in his jacket pocket. He produces the piece of chalk, which Hanji promptly plucks from his fingers.

It’s a whole theatrical thing. They bend down and use the chalk to draw a line across the pavement front of you, much more dramatically than is necessary.

“You’re not allowed to move past this spot, and you’ll have a guard with you until you’re locked in a cell,” they tell you.

Someone calls out for them from a distance and they groan. Their eyes flutter closed in annoyance as they pinch the bridge of their nose.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do: I have to leave, so I want my best people watching you. They are busy at the moment,” they gesture to the group of soldiers lining up two wooden carts side-by-side. Some adjust the wagons themselves while others begin to unroll a massive tarp.

Hanji continues on. “So you’re going to wait here until they’ve finished, and then you’ll be taken in for processing. I’ll come when I can. Right now, I have to deal with this fucking hole in the Wall…”

Later, you see them at the top, looking down at the covered section beneath them. You don’t think much of it, consumed as you are with your own shit. Right now, however, you stay staring at the crystal. You want to take as long as you can to look at her while you still can, and you’re grateful you’re allowed to stay.

You’re stuck with the same guard before, who has since gone from apathetic to actively annoyed with you. You try to ignore the looks you get from passerbys as you sit there behind your stupid little chalk line, twiddling your thumbs.

A dozen soldiers heave the massive crystal onto the wagon but stagger halfway. The sound of hardening scraping against the stone floor fills the square until finally, after some straining, the crystal makes it off the ground. The wagons immediately groan in protest but everything stays in place.

Your heart sinks when they stretch the tarp over Annie’s encased body. It horrifies you, to be honest. The whole time you watch you’re filled with an increasing amount of dread. But there’s something deep inside of you that can’t look away, not when you’re so worried it might be the last time you see her.

The dust and residue floating around makes blinking dry and painful, so instead you subject yourself to the equally uncomfortable experience of just not blinking. Your eyeballs burn and tears spill down your cheeks to try and make up for the lack of moisture. Through the blurry haze you watch them buckle the rock down with straps.

The only part of her body that isn’t covered at this angle is the tops of her feet where the tarp doesn’t fully cover her. It’s hardly anything, just a splash of dark brown in the kaleidoscope of colors the afternoon sun casts into the crystal. It’s just the tips of her boots, but it's all you can see.

The carts rumble away once it’s secure. It doesn’t take long for the soldiers to veer down a road out of your view, and suddenly, your time is up. All you can do is stare at the tips of your own boots (the same model), haunted.

You’re yanked to your feet as the soldiers doing the heavy lifting are finished. They walk down a different street and you’re carted behind them. Somebody steps on the back of your shoe when you slow down to try and take another glance you know you can’t take.

They lead you through the city the long way, and it feels like a punishment. You feel like you’re being forced to do a walk of shame for the sheer humiliation of it, and it’s working. It’s really getting to you.

God, you really loved her… Does that make you a traitor, too? You question your own motives once again, whether you subconsciously ignored signs that would have been obvious to anyone else. On some level you knew that the feelings you had for her were dangerously strong.

Something sinks inside of you as old feelings bubble up. You feel stupid and small, just like you did when you were child. It terrifies you to think of the scale on which people were hurt, or about the trail of dead bodies lying in wake of this destruction. More than anything you feel deep guilt.

There’s a collapsed building blocking the main road, so the guards lead you down a new street. You’re so distracted by your thoughts that it takes you a few moments to recognize your surroundings, but your blood runs ice cold when you do.

The Titan battle had decimated the entire area. Most of the pantheon was in ruins, with blood pooling in the cracks of the broken marble floor. Gilded chunks of walls and window panes have been thrown clear across the once-manicured lawn. Shattered glass and chunks of stone litter the clearing.

All at once, you recognize it. The crumbling remains of the atrium you’re looking at had once belonged to the Church of the Walls.

If you hadn’t known what it had looked like before it was destroyed, you probably wouldn’t have recognized it. The golden roof looks brown beneath the thick layer of dust that’s settled over the scene. Ornately carved architecture lies split in half.

It’s all intimately familiar to you in a way that you’re not proud of. After you take a moment to take in the destruction of this place, you’re hit hard with the butt of a rifle while your escorts try to get you back in line.

At this point, you’ve had an extremely shitty day. They were stupid enough to cuff your hands in front of your body for a second time, and the chains around your wrists serve as a bludgeon to reinforce the blow.

You swing your hands up hard to punch the soldier in the nose. It definitely breaks his nose, judging by the blood that spills between your fingers. To make sure that he stays down for good measure, you kick the motherfucker in the stomach.

In the confusion you dash off down an alley, running away out of custody for at least the third time that day. The stunt earns you another earful from Hanji and another day in the clink, but you have to know.

You have to see for yourself.

A soldier with a clipboard stands in a field of dead bodies loosely covered with white sheets. In your state, you don’t care for niceties and just snatch the board from his hands. Your eyes scan a list of names of the confirmed dead frantically, only to realize how few identifications they’d been able to make. Shoving the list back into the poor soldier’s hand, you shove right past any worried inquiries he may have had.

Later, the full effect of the horror hits you. You go through the rows of dead bodies, pulling back the sheets just enough to see faces before you re-cover them, and trying to ignore the pulling in your gut. Some of the bodies are missing entire limbs, staining the white cloth a heavy crimson. Was the dread because you were afraid you would see a familiar face, or that you wouldn’t?

Two rows, three rows, and nothing. Nobody is stopping you from looking, but you are getting weird looks from the nearby MPs. You’re starting to get frantic.

By the time you’ve moved to the fourth row of bodies, your hands are shaking. Perhaps appropriately so. When you lift the sheet on the third body in the row, shock makes you drop the sheet before you even get the chance to see the face underneath. You don’t need to, not when you can see that the woman’s hair is identical to that on your own head.

You hadn’t seen your mother for years, but you remember her hair. It’s shorter than yours now with intermittent greys, but it looks exactly like you remembered it. She has the same hairstyle even, all these years later. Again you lift the sheet.

This time, you actually look. It’s almost surreal. You hadn’t quite realized how much you’ve grown to look like her these days until you’re staring at your own face beneath that sheet, differentiated only by age, death, and a trickle of blood dripping from her mouth.

Her ribs are concave, flattened so completely that it takes you a moment to realize that there’s an extra limb in the mix.

You throw back the sheet to see better. Wrapped around your mothers’ elbow is the disembodied right arm of a man. That was the wrist your father wore his watch, yes? You pull down the sleeve of the dark suit jacket to find what you’d been looking for.

The glass is shattered and the clasp has broken, but the sleeve contained enough of the watch together in one piece that you can tell what it once was. What remains of the clock face is still intact. Sure enough, when you turn it over, you see that two initials (his own and your mother’s) as well as a family crest are engraved on the polished metal backing.

At the bottom, there used to be three more sets of initials for each of their children. You realize with disgust that all three have been covered. Crudely scratched out, really, but the intention of the action hits you directly in the soul.

His feelings had been clear to you for a long time, but this was another level of awful.

You stand there frozen in place, stunned, for long enough that the group of soldiers arresting you finds you again. At that point, they’re beyond done with your antics. You don’t resist when you’re tackled into the grass.

Someone undoes your handcuffs (both sets, luckily) only to redo them behind your back this time, so tightly that it cuts into your wrists. It seems they’ve learned a lesson now. A rope goes around your torso, and you nearly snarl at the overkill.

“I’m not an animal.”

“Shut the hell up and stay where you are,” says a very tall soldier, with much broader shoulders than the last guy. The one that you punched stands a few feet back, glowering at you with an ice pack pressed against your nose.

What you want to do is give them a piece of your mind, remind them that you’d gone willingly every time. But it doesn’t come out. Instead, as soon as your mouth opens you laugh. You look back down at what’s left of the only living relatives you had and laugh.

You laugh hysterically, your voice shaking. Honestly, you don’t know how to feel. In a way you feel free now that your parents are gone, but every aspect of how it came about was horrifying. Even as you hated them their death left your gut twisting.

“Wait a minute, hold on,” you manage to get out through bursts of giggle-crying, “I can identify them… I need to tell someone who they are.”

The soldier guarding you rolls his eyes.

“Make it quick,” he tells you gruffly, but he does shove you back over to the disgruntled man with the clipboard.

He’s still a bit annoyed with you from earlier, but he looks at you like you have two heads now that you come up laughing like a crazy person.

“Georg and Claudia Last/Name,” you announce, although much to your displeasure your voice cracks before you can follow up with: “Add them to your list.”

The soldier jots down the names, then flips the page on the clipboard to cross something out. “Alright, thanks for the information. If you know them, can you direct me towards their next of kin?”

You snort on your laughter, and if your hands could be near your face you might have buried it in them with shame.

“There’s no one. There’s nobody left,” to your great surprise, you begin to choke on tears. “I think their money would be better off with someone who actually needs it.”

He checks a box, but the soldier with the clipboard just continues to look down at you judgmentally. “Yeah, it doesn’t really work like that. I just need to know who needs to get the news if there are kids or other surviving family members.”

“Whatever,” you mumble, “All of their kids died a long time ago.” Anything you stood to inherit, you didn’t want anyway.

As you’re led away, you stare at the spot in the grass where the broken wristwatch lay shattered. The crossed-out engravings on the back are visible amongst the shattered glass and bent metal.

Somebody from behind you yanks on your handcuffs. You cynically wish that you could run away again. In your current situation, you’ve only gotten into more trouble running. Where would you even go now? What exactly could you look forward to?

Well, for the first time in your life you’re not afraid of your parents anymore. That certainly counts for something.

Later, you smugly chuckle to yourself when you realize that even if your father crossed out your initials on that stupid wristwatch, you’re still the last one standing.

To this day, you don’t know why it was you who lived. You didn’t earn it, or make any ‘better’ choices.

You spend the next week in a dingy jail cell. Most of the time you’re completely alone, save a guard who brings you meals, and when you’re being further interrogated. You quickly recognize that you have no other option than to endure it all, and the depression sets in quickly.

It feels good to let yourself wallow, at first. Everything hurts so badly that you feel like you might cease to exist. You wish that you could be absorbed into the stone floor beneath you, to be forgotten but finally free from the strife that plagued you at every turn.

The punches never stop coming. At the moment you realize that this is just yet another shitty thing that’s happened to you, you reach the stage of acceptance.

Annie was gone. You were still here, and you and everybody else she left behind were left to deal with the aftermath.

Cooperating completely and totally was the only option you had if you wanted to seem at all trustworthy. You decide to tell Hanji everything you know, and in interviews you confess to everything you can recall.

It’s humiliating and degrading and even invasive at times, but you comply so you’ll regain their trust. You’re truthful in the hopes that you’ll be allowed to see her again, someday. Even if she is under guard, frozen in place, and unable to communicate.

If you can prove to the military that you’re worthy of trust, then you can help discover where she came from, or why she did the things she did. Maybe that way, one day if you ever do find a way to get her out then you’ll be the one who receives her.

Someday you want to understand how Annie could have looked you in the eye and lied to you so convincingly. You need to know how she could let you get so close to her when she was planning to kill you the whole time. Hopefully, she would be able to explain herself someday.

If only you could understand.

massive trigger warning for CSA in the following scene.

reader's backstory involves descriptions of child abuse in several forms - most of what's discussed is psychological or neglectful, but it is also HEAVILY implied that one of the younger brothers was sexually abused.

please skip a few paragraphs if you need to, or at the very least, be warned.

A week after what happened at Stohess, you’re still under careful supervision. And although you’re no longer handcuffed or in jail, there’s constantly somebody nearby watching you. You can’t even take a shower without somebody standing right outside the door.

Nearly everyone else treats you either like a scarlet-letter pariah or an airhead who was too dim-witted to realize Annie’s ‘master plan.’ You haven’t seen any of the people in your graduating class since the day of the fight, and you aren’t particularly looking forward to seeing them again if they’re judging you the way you’re judging yourself.

The whole time you’re being questioned, you comply. You tell them everything you knew, which was albeit not very much. Hanji was the only person in charge of your captivity who even bothers to speak to you, and therefore they are the only person you give vital information to.

During your interviews, you don’t include the details that are special to you – instead, you treasure them privately. All you say is “Yes, she did seem guilty when the topic came up.” You don’t correct them when they assume she was plotting every moment of every day. You leave out the parts where she cried inconsolably at the thought of all the death, all the destruction, and you leave out her apologies. They wouldn’t care anyway.

There’s no point in mentioning that she wasn’t all bad. No point in saying that she was gentle with you, and shy when it came to her feelings. It would just make you look like you were taking her side if you talked about her – and maybe you were to a certain extent.

“My biggest dream is to give up,” you remember her saying once. “I don’t care about any of this anymore. I’m so tired… I want to go home.” She clearly had regrets about what she’d done if she said that. You know her well enough to know when she’s bullshitting, and those emotions were genuine.

After what she did, the assumption that she’s a heartless monster is pretty easy to come by, but defending her to the military will only get you in trouble. Every night you cry yourself to sleep as you try to relive the happy memories on a loop.

It was bad enough that Annie and her crystal are doomed to stay in Stohess. You had to keep coming back to this horrible place when it’s all you want to leave behind. It’s so inconvenient – how are you supposed to visit her when you’re constantly bouncing around from one place to another with your Scout assignments?

The reality of the situation is that you won’t be able to. Keeping her where she is forces you to be under supervision at all times, forces you to stay under the watchful eye of the military. It solved the problem of imprisonment and containment in one fell swoop.

The first time you see her, about a week and a half has passed since what happened in the city. Every time you want to go down to visit her, you have to ask. There was a whole process including forms, wait time, and a bureaucratic review pending approval before you’re allowed to even think about going.

Even then, you’re not allowed to be alone with her at first. Much to your chagrin, a soldier stands at the entrance to the cavern staring you down the entire time you’re there. Genuinely, it’s humiliating. It highlights how little control you have over everything.

You walk up to the crystal awkwardly and acutely aware of being watched. At first, you’re too nervous and self-aware to do anything but pick at already-shredded cuticles. This is all you wanted for days, but now that you’re actually here you’re not quite sure what to do.

At first, you can’t bring yourself to even look at her. You have to take a moment to muster your courage before you’re able to actually do it. So much buildup and tension just for the same face you already know so well. It breaks your heart.

She looks exactly the same. Of course she does, she always will, for as long as she’s in there.

There’s so much you want to say to her. You have so much hurt inside of you that it overflows – where do you start? Even if you do ask all of your questions, will you be able to convey everything you feel? Will talking to her even make you feel better now that she can’t answer the hundreds of questions that you’re inevitably going to ask?

Blinking back tears, you swallow nervously to clear your throat. You don’t know where your stream of consciousness will take you, but starting somewhere is better than nowhere.

You keep your voice low so that the soldier accompanying you won’t be able to make out what you’re saying. Your lips are just inches away from the surface, as close as her prison will allow you to get.

“I want to be mad at you. Mostly, for lying to me. How could you do that to me, when I cared about you so much?”

You glare at the crystal, and at Annie’s unchanged expression deep within it.

“I wish that I could just be angry… I have so many emotions, really. I’m sad, and I miss you, and I feel betrayed. I’m not sure I have that right, since there are things I wasn’t honest about either. Like my parents. I was ashamed of them, and I didn’t even tell you they existed until you asked. And even then I still lied about them.”

“The real reason that I wanted to get away from them, and that I never went back… It didn’t have anything to do with what they did to me. Don’t get me wrong, they treated me horribly too, but… that wasn’t the final straw. On the surface they seem like perfectly nice people. Maybe that’s why I’m so resentful, because they really aren’t even assholes.”

It’s no surprise that her expression remains unchanged. So why do you keep looking at her, talking like you expect a response?

“I used to think they were evil, but now I think it’s more complicated than that. It’s not evil to be misguided. You were misguided, right? You had to be, or maybe I need you to be. That’s why you never wanted me to comfort you, why you didn’t think you deserved it, isn’t it? I can’t wrap my head around any of this. You did so many horrible things but you’re still not half as bad of a person as my parents were, and they were fucking celebrated in their community.”

“Shit, I’m still doing it. Being vague and skirting around the point. I’m sorry.” You look down at your shoes. “It’s only fair that now I know your secrets, that you should get to learn mine. I wish that you had gotten the chance to tell me in your own time. I really want to believe that you would have. Or would you have just kept pushing me away? Did you expect to just go back to wherever your home is and leave me here? Did you think I would be okay with that?”

You get so worked up that you find yourself hyperventilating, voice rising and your face getting hot. It’s too much, you have to physically turn away from the crystal while you take a moment for yourself, to cool down. Fighting tears and breathing hard, you try to shake away the anger.

You have the rest of your fucking life to be angry at her. The military gave you twenty minutes with Annie and the crystal, and you came here with a goal in mind.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you turn back around and continue on. You’re just going to say it. Get it over with so that you never have to talk about it again.

“My parents were members of the Church of the Walls. High-ranking ones, with generations of family members in the ranks. They used to take me with them to services and gatherings, for years. That’s why I hate crowds, and jewelry, and wearing dresses. It’s why I left Stohess behind so easily. It’s why my grandparents took us away. It’s why I ran away again after my brothers died. It defined every aspect of my life.”

“My parents only cared about being good Wallists. That, and making sure we were, too. The Church was the reason why my parents had three children – I was both the favorite for being the only daughter and the screwup for not being the third son. Every time anything went wrong, it was my fault.”

“We were expected to wear certain clothes, act a certain way. Go to services two or three times a week and memorize all the prayers. My brothers were too young to remember anything, I think. That’s my hope at least.”

“Apparently my grandparents didn’t even know about the Church. They didn’t know my parents were religious and they sure as hell didn’t know about the way they treated us. I don’t know why I never said anything before. Now that I’m older I can see all the red flags everywhere else. But you understand, don’t you? Isn’t that why you got caught up in… everything you did?” you gesture vaguely to the crystal. “You can’t see the red flags if it’s all you’ve ever known.”

Subconsciously, your brain conjures the image of your mother’s body beneath the sheet, her arm still linked with that of your dismembered father. It’s so visceral that it turns your stomach, but once again you find yourself laughing uncontrollably.

“I declined their inheritance so I don’t really know what’s happening with that. Kind of fucked up, but I’m a little relieved that I don’t have to keep living in a world where they’re still there. Even more fucked up? I’m a lot more upset that you’re still in this stupid chunk of rock than I am that you’re the one who killed them.”

You lower your voice so that the guard won’t hear, but you hold your face right next to the crystal. “I’ve thought about what I was going to say to you about this more than anything else. I don’t think you’re in the right for anything you did that day in Stohess, with one exception. When it comes to crushing the Church and the Wallists, more than anything all I have to say… is thank you.”

“Isn’t that so fucked up? You killed my parents and I’m on your side. If that doesn’t prove to you that I’m just as messed up in the head as you are then I don’t know what will. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t believe you did all of this… but every time I think of everyone in that Church dying so horribly I just–”

Your voice cracks, and you laugh deliriously. “I’m so glad they died screaming. The terror they felt in those final moments when they realized the Walls couldn’t protect them is worth more to me than I know how to put into words. I might not understand your motives, but for this one act of destruction… somebody forgives you. Thank you, and I forgive you.”

“I’m not as passive and naive as you always seemed to think. You were never delicate or waifish. I just didn’t realize you had so much power. I wish that you chose to use it for a better purpose… I wish that you felt like you could’ve come to me. What’s so important to you that you kept choosing to be a killer?”

“Shit,” you cut yourself off when you realize that even still, you’re still veering off topic. You were going to tell her the whole truth. That’s what you came here to do, not chastise her further. Surely she knows she’s in the wrong.

Just say it.

The laughter bubbles up again, inappropriately. This time it’s because you’re uncomfortable, and enraged. “I never told you why my grandparents took us away. I actually didn’t really get it until after the Wall fell once my parents started talking about destiny and the Will of Walls and all this bullshit.”

You swallow hard as you continue on. “Right after my youngest brother Joseph was born, my father got some kind of promotion within the ranks. After that, we started having to go to services at night, too. Honestly, they were really scary… I didn’t like to go inside the chapel. We could usually stay outside, me and my brothers. But one day, they made me hold the baby while they took Samuel back with them.”

“Things got bad after that. Samuel stopped eating, and he didn’t want to play with us anymore. My parents tried to pretend like nothing was happening. They would keep us apart, even during the day. My grandparents came to visit for the holidays that year and my parents kept Samuel from them, too. They knew something was wrong, I could tell… So I ended up telling them everything. We left that night, without anything. No clothes or toys. Just us kids.”

“So whenever Joseph and I came back to Stohess three years later after Sam died… the two of us were heartbroken. Without our brother we didn’t feel complete anymore, so it was weird when my parents didn’t feel the same way. They weren’t even upset he was gone. I thought I was going crazy at first but they almost seemed happy, relieved.”

“And then one day, I overheard a conversation after one of the nighttime services. It was the bishops who were interested in Samuel all those years ago. They said that the Walls had taken care of the problem for them, and it all just kind of clicked after that. Why everybody acted so weirdly about everything, and why nobody cared that he was dead. How the fuck are you supposed to live with something like that? In the same house as the people who allowed it to happen, who enabled it? How are you ever supposed to be in the same room as them again?”

Tears burn in your eyes, and your fingernails dig deep into the palms of your hands hard enough to draw blood.

“I didn’t even see the religion for what it really was until after my grandparents died. I was back living with my parents and suddenly I didn’t have a choice anymore. Maybe it was just because I was older but it was like my eyes were opened. It’s a fucking cult. The Church, and everybody who was blindly loyal to them, pushes you to find grace in suffering. Like that excuses the fact that they’re the ones making you miserable in the first place.”

“Joseph got sick not too long after that. I did tell you the truth about that. It was just a fever that burned too hot. His death didn’t even feel real until after the funeral. Everything became too much after that, when I realized I was alone. I threatened to my father that I’d run away and join the military once, and he told me that he wouldn’t follow me if I did. That I was a disappointment and he never wanted to see me again.”

“Hah, so that was it! A shining beacon of opportunity to get away and probably the only one I’d ever get. My father was true to his word and didn’t follow me, but my mom wanted me to come home. I never responded to any of her letters because I didn’t give a fuck about so-and-so from who-cares district’s son who could be a good fit for me.”

“Did you know that the Church encourages girls to be married off when they’re only fifteen? If I hadn’t joined the military, I’d be sold off by now. My parents made that much clear… Giving them grandchildren for the congregation was the only thing they saw me as good for. I don’t regret leaving. If I could go back in time the only thing I would do differently is to run away before my brother died. Maybe he would still be here if I’d taken him away from those people, and that place. ”

“I wish that I could have heard what you would say in response to all of this. Maybe if I had told you my secrets you would have trusted me. I keep thinking about what I would have done if you told me about all of yours… no matter how horrible they were. I don’t know. Fucking shit, I would have helped you run away if it meant you could go home. You could have taken me with you.”

Suddenly, it all becomes too much. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Church or your dead family – it has to do with the fact that despite all that loss, you never felt alone until now. All of a sudden, you have absolutely no one.

The military doesn’t trust you, and nobody else in your graduating class can do anything to help you while you’re in prison. The only person who cared about you enough to help you or who would have tried to visit you is frozen in stasis before you.

If her plan was to kill the people inside of the walls, then why the hell did she care about you so much? The way she acted around you, the way she opened up to you and cared about your safety, directly contradicts motivations of genocide.

Bitter tears roll down your cheeks as you focus on breathing. It takes you a minute to compose yourself once again. More than anything, you wish that you could see her reaction to everything you’re saying. It’s not fair that she gets to seal herself away and leave the aftermath for everyone else to deal with.

You need her to be alive.

Please, you beg silently, please be alive.

“I wish you’d say something. I feel like I’m talking to myself…” your voice cracks, and you take another minute to gather yourself before you continue. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. This is why I never talk about my family or my life before. It’s why I didn’t understand how you missed your dad.”

Honestly, you still don’t. She deserved better than someone who let her undertake such a horrible task, much less someone who pushed her toward it.

You lower your voice again, just in case the guard is listening in. “Our fathers aren’t the same. Mine never wrote to me because he didn’t want to, but I understand now why you miss yours. I’m sorry that you’ve been away from him for so long… even if I don’t know what it’s like to have a dad, you do. I wish I could have been there for you instead of consumed with my own issues. I wish that you would’ve let me be there for you...”

Monologuing to a crystal was humiliating enough. All at once you’re hit with the fear that she can’t actually hear you in there. You’re wasting your breath, and she got the last laugh weeks ago.

You can’t reconcile the idea of talking to gravestone so hard, that you put the idea out of your mind entirely. That couldn’t be an option, not when you needed her to hear what you’re saying.

“They said there’s a chance that you can’t even hear me now,” you whisper, and the idea is so overwhelmingly awful that you rest your forehead against the crystal. The cool surface helps, and you catch your breath. “But I think you can.”

“And that’s the real horror about all of this, right? That you’re going to stay in there instead of dealing with everything that’s happened. I would say ‘typical’ except this time it just isn’t funny. You’re seriously in there, just fucking sitting there. Is it really easier for you to stop existing like this, rather than face up to what you’ve done?”

“Part of me won’t ever forgive you. I wish that I was convinced everything you did was in my best interest, but I’m not. How could you be doing what you were doing and then start a relationship with me? Why didn’t you just push me away like you did everyone else?”

“I keep wondering if I’m part of the reason you chose to lock yourself away… that you want to avoid me just as much as the military interrogation. For someone who once begged me to stay alive no matter what, you’re being really fucking hypocritical. I always thought it was strange that you chose the words you did when you asked me to ‘be a coward’ if it meant I lived, but I think I understand that now, too.”

“It’s you who’s a coward. You aren’t even ashamed of it. Everything you did to me was so selfish, and you took me for an idiot. I thought you were a good person despite everything you said. I was so good to you and in return you lied to me and treated me like garbage.”

Now you’re genuinely starting to get upset. You choke back a sob and force yourself to breathe.

“When I think about the things you’ve done, part of me hates you. I don’t want anything to do with you… but then I remember the good things, too. I dream about you every single time I sleep. Every time I wake up there’s a minute where I forget everything that’s happened, and it’s like you could be just across the hall again, back when we first met.”

You stare at her unchanged face, passive and nearly sparkling with refracted light in the crystal. She looks peaceful for the most part, but there’s a distant sadness knitted into her eyebrows and in the downturn of the corners of her lips.

“Did you really love me?” you ask, empty of emotion.

It feels like you’re talking to yourself.

“The worst part is that in the end, I don’t hate you. Not all the way. I think… I think you might have really loved me. That’s the only reason I can come up with that you could do this to me, and leave me like this. In your own fucked up way, that’s your way of protecting me. But I resent that you pushed me away. I wish that I could have talked to you one last time.”

“If you can hear me, then listen: I don’t blame you for everything that’s happened. I mean, I do – it’s despicable. But I don’t blame you the way the military does. The person that I got to know wasn’t a monster. I don’t think you wanted to kill people... I saw the way it hurt you after Trost… I –” you stumble on your words.

You can’t talk about that. It hurts too much. You want to kick yourself for comforting her after she murdered your friends, and a part of you even wants to yell at her. Though you also remember the way she cried and shook, pushed you away. How she begged for forgiveness…

“No, don’t comfort me, I don’t deserve it. Or your kindness, or your love,” she had said. “It’s me that’s the issue. It always has been, You’re the one who deserves better.”

The memories come flooding through your mind again, like you’d gotten so used to over the past few days. Now that you’re sitting in front of her you find that you feel more hurt than anything. You’re angry and brokenhearted and confused, but mostly just betrayed.

“I saw your face when you were a Titan. You were scared. You cared that people died… I never understood why you pretended like you didn’t care. I thought you had anxiety, or you never properly learned how to talk to another person. Maybe you were embarrassed – that could still be true.”

Out of nervousness, you look over your shoulder to see if the soldier supervising you was actively paying attention. He was not, but you keep your voice low anyway.

“But in the end, I think you were ashamed. I knew that, on some level. I thought it had to do with your sexuality, maybe? Or maybe you just had trouble figuring out where you fit in. You acted like you hated everyone else. But now, I think that you hated yourself most of all. And I feel bad for you. I’ve always wanted better for you.”

You touch the crystal, flattening the palm of your hand against the surface. It’s cold, lifeless, just like the blonde girl inside.

“Ever since all of this has gone down, I’ve thought about everything that’s ever happened between us in a different way, trying to see when you were lying to me. And now that I know what you were doing, it all makes sense. Whenever the memories replay it’s like I watch all of the dots connecting, only it’s too late for me to actually do anything about it.”

“Do you think we’ll ever get to talk again, like we used to?” you ask her. This one-sided conversation wasn’t doing much for you besides making you feel lonely. “Have I hugged you for the last time without even knowing?”

It leaves you emotionally exhausted to think of either outcome. How are you ever supposed to move on if you never speak to her again? You can’t imagine gaining closure in her absence.

And if she does come out, you’re not sure how you’d feel anyway. Will you still be angry, would you be able to put everything aside? Are the feelings you once had for her strong enough, or genuine enough, that it won’t fade over time?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever look at her the same way you did once, with tenderness and love in your eyes. The heaviness of that sentiment breaks your heart – right now you care about her so much that it makes your chest ache. You don’t want the affection you have for her to fade, or to lose the feeling of warmth that she brought into your hear. If you lose it now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to feel like that again.

The overwhelming feeling you’re left with is a stomach-churning mix of apprehension and fear, but not on your own behalf. It deeply upsets you to think that she chooses a dreamless limbo as her fate. Even if she is in there, how might this affect her in the long run?

“I know why you lied to me now. I get it, and sometimes, I forgive you. You were terrified, that much was clear from the beginning. I always knew that you were hiding something, but I just thought you were unhappy where you were. Only now I realize that your world is so much bigger than what’s inside of these walls.”

“It was never the military, or even Paradis, really, that you wanted to escape. It was your whole life. You never wanted any of this. I’m sorry that you were put into such a shitty position. I wish you had let me understand… maybe I will someday.”

That’s all you want, really. In the darkest times, you retreat to your favorite daydream. There are no sharp details, just fuzzy glimpses of intimacy and happiness that you’ve learned is all too fleeting. You’re together, happy. Safe. Does anything else matter?

From across the room, the solider assigned to watch you finally speaks up.

“Your twenty minutes are up.”

Panic stirs up in your gut. There’s still so much you wanted to tell her, and to ask her about. Is this really all you get for now? You try to reassure yourself that she isn’t going anywhere, that you’ll have plenty of time to think about what else you need to say. It only adds to your fear concerning the situation.

You wipe away your tears. “Okay. I’m coming.”

It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that this is what interaction will be like from now on, if you could even call it that. All you’re doing is staring up at her sadly.

She never had been much of a talker. It breaks your heart that she’s having to pay such a steep price – you wanted to know more. More about why she would hide away when you know she has answers that would save her. More about where she came from and why she did such horrible things.

There’s still something more that she’s running away from. Something that haunts her, a nameless evil. Even still, she’s protecting you.

What was the point of theorizing? You know no theory you can come up with will be close to the truth.

Tiredness overwhelms you as you reach the entryway of the cavern, next to your escort. The guard is already holding the door open waiting for you to go on through. You shake your head, and for the millionth time hold back your tears.

“I need a second,” you cry, turning around so that he won’t see your display of emotions. You try and ignore the sigh of annoyance you get in response.

Before you leave her, you look at Annie one last time. You take no comfort in seeing her here or in imagining what it must be like for her. It brings you no peace to know that she lies sleeping beneath the city you hate more than anywhere else, trapped in the cold and the dark.

Finally, you force yourself to dry your tears. These brief visits are all you’re allowed to have whether you like it or not, and you know deep down that you’ll have to learn to accept the situation as it is.

It feels like you’re leaving everything behind, on a certain level. You can’t pinpoint when exactly it happened, when you stopped caring so much. Maybe it was sometime in the endless overlapping hours you spent thinking all too much while stuck in jail. Maybe it was before that, when you were covered in dust and blood in the wreckage of the city above.

You feel empty. The hurt is still there, and it will demand to be acknowledged. Yet for now, you push it aside. Right now you embrace the numbness of feeling nothing. If that’s the only way you can get through the hardest parts, then so be it.

After all, you have a promise to keep. You can’t let her down when there’s still a sliver of possibility that she’s alive inside that crystal.

Now, with the numbness inside of you easing the ache, you do something that you never thought you’d be able to do without Annie.

You walk away.

im just as traumatized as y'all... STILL PLEASE YELL AT ME THOUGH. MAKE THE PAYOFF WORTH IT. IM SCREAMNIG TOO.

extended commentary :re the CSA warning - i swear to god that i tried to approach the topic of abuse suffered by lil brother Samuel from a human-sacrifice angle but... it just didn't work . i couldn't make it better so i hesitantly decided to try and roll with it. i've always said that Annie needs someone who is just as traumatized as she was but uh. this one hurts my heart a little more than the rest of it.

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