there's no reason someone who gets as little sleep as he does should still even be alive—one more thing to blame on bullshit Ackerman genes, probably. but needing less sleep to function is not entirely a good thing. he's left alone with his thoughts for far too long. it's something that he usually just endures on his own, but tonight is a little different.
the night before an expedition is always more difficult. how many of them won't make it back this time? the last time they ventured out there, he wasn't with them. Erwin lost an arm, and nearly his life. this time, they'll be together again, but this expedition wasn't going to be like the others. he'd tried to talk Erwin out of going, but Erwin couldn't be swayed.
an especially strong sense of dread keeps him awake.
he winds up leaving his room with no real plan of action, restlessly pacing the halls. a million thoughts race through his head, but in the end, they're all about the same thing. the same person.
as he passes Erwin's room, he notices a dim light filtering under the door. it seems he's not the only one who can't sleep. for a moment he stands idle in front of the door, trying (and failing) to convince himself not to bother him. there are a hundred things he wants to tell Erwin, but maybe they're best left unsaid.
on the other hand, this could very well be his last chance.
so he takes a deep breath and knocks quietly on the door. ]
he didn't expect to wake at all, realistically, but here he is, awake and surrounded by wounded and dying, all in distress. his first thought is that he'd never considered the concept of an afterlife seriously, but his second is that he can help.
he's bleeding badly from a wound in his side that's smaller than he vaguely remembers it being, but that doesn't matter. he can stand, so he does. he can rip long strips of fabric off ruined seats and wrap them around his torso using his arm and hip for leverage. he can't tie them off but he tucks them under other layers to keep them in place for now. it's not much, but it's something.
once he's at least got it wrapped in a few layers, not that it's going to help much long-term, he briefly turns his attention to the device on his wrist before deeming other things currently more important, such as providing assistance where he can.
because of course he does.
he does explore the place when he can, between doing triage to see who needs assistance the most (it's him, because he got hit with a giant rock and had a chunk taken out of him but apparently less of one than it should be) and doing anything he's able to.
it's when he's finally nearing the very front of the train that he sees— ]
Levi.
[ on a surprised rush of breath as he closes the distance between them in only a few long strides, wiping his hand on a bit of clean uniform before lifting it to touch his face like he's making sure he's real.
it can't be that levi died, so this place has to be something else entirely. ]
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idk what this is
there's no reason someone who gets as little sleep as he does should still even be alive—one more thing to blame on bullshit Ackerman genes, probably. but needing less sleep to function is not entirely a good thing. he's left alone with his thoughts for far too long. it's something that he usually just endures on his own, but tonight is a little different.
the night before an expedition is always more difficult. how many of them won't make it back this time? the last time they ventured out there, he wasn't with them. Erwin lost an arm, and nearly his life. this time, they'll be together again, but this expedition wasn't going to be like the others. he'd tried to talk Erwin out of going, but Erwin couldn't be swayed.
an especially strong sense of dread keeps him awake.
he winds up leaving his room with no real plan of action, restlessly pacing the halls. a million thoughts race through his head, but in the end, they're all about the same thing. the same person.
as he passes Erwin's room, he notices a dim light filtering under the door. it seems he's not the only one who can't sleep. for a moment he stands idle in front of the door, trying (and failing) to convince himself not to bother him. there are a hundred things he wants to tell Erwin, but maybe they're best left unsaid.
on the other hand, this could very well be his last chance.
so he takes a deep breath and knocks quietly on the door. ]
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makes this post a catchall for this stuff
he didn't expect to wake at all, realistically, but here he is, awake and surrounded by wounded and dying, all in distress. his first thought is that he'd never considered the concept of an afterlife seriously, but his second is that he can help.
he's bleeding badly from a wound in his side that's smaller than he vaguely remembers it being, but that doesn't matter. he can stand, so he does. he can rip long strips of fabric off ruined seats and wrap them around his torso using his arm and hip for leverage. he can't tie them off but he tucks them under other layers to keep them in place for now. it's not much, but it's something.
once he's at least got it wrapped in a few layers, not that it's going to help much long-term, he briefly turns his attention to the device on his wrist before deeming other things currently more important, such as providing assistance where he can.
because of course he does.
he does explore the place when he can, between doing triage to see who needs assistance the most (it's him, because he got hit with a giant rock and had a chunk taken out of him but apparently less of one than it should be) and doing anything he's able to.
it's when he's finally nearing the very front of the train that he sees— ]
Levi.
[ on a surprised rush of breath as he closes the distance between them in only a few long strides, wiping his hand on a bit of clean uniform before lifting it to touch his face like he's making sure he's real.
it can't be that levi died, so this place has to be something else entirely. ]
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