COMRADES • Eren Jaeger

CHAPTER 20: Double Crossers

A seedy looking man with balding black hair was laying down in bed. His body was physically fit but showed early signs of aging. The light blue shirt he was wearing thin enough for you to be able to see the dirty white rib brace that was wrapped around his chest. It was splattered with a red, most likely blood, and a mournful look was painted on his rough face as he watched you walk into the room wearing the kindest smile you could muster.

"Good morning, Mr. Gerstner! My name is Y/N, and I'm going to be your medic for the duration of your stay here," you greeted cheerfully. "How are you doing today?"

"They sent me a medic for my ribs?" the middle-aged man asked sharply, ignoring your question. "Not a doctor or a nurse?"

You were taken aback, not expecting the rudeness. "Um, yes...?"

He huffed before staring at the ceiling, slowly nodding. "Good."

There was an awkward second before you redeemed yourself. "So! Mr. Gerstner, I'm going to take your pulse first," you said, walking towards the bed-ridden man and setting your chart down to grab his hand, making sure to be extra careful when handling his movement.

His eyes hardened when he noticed that you were wearing a red armband. "You're an Honorary Marleyan."

You avoided his gaze, trying your best not to feel guilty. "Yeah, I am."

"You got family in the Warrior Unit?"

"I am part of the Warrior Unit."

Mr. Gerstner clicked his tongue. "Eh? You a Warrior? What on earth are you doing in a hospital then? You should be out enjoying the world outside Liberio since you've got the right to."

"No, I'm not exactly a Warrior," you chuckled. "I'm just part of their branch, but they still allow me to work outside the military. And I've had some bad experiences the last time I tried to go outside Liberio, so I go to and fro from the hospital and headquarters most of the time."

"So you haven't got a Titan nor are you family of a Warrior but you're still an Honorary Marleyan," he repeated. "Am I hearing that right?"

"Well..." you trailed off awkwardly, not knowing how else to respond.

Mr. Gerstner watched as you felt his skin and checked his basic vitals before writing down the findings on the papers taped to your little clipboard — the standard protocols for morning check-ups. Occasionally you would ask a pointed question but other than that the chatter was kept to a strict worker-customer conversation.

"Judging by the nervous look on your face, you're still a newbie medic," said Mr. Gerstner. "How long you been in the hospital, girl?"

"A few weeks," you replied. "Just got hired here."

"I'll bet my hat that it was because they were calling for more medics before the war," he said. "They needed people to tend to the future wounded Eldians, even if it was just a volunteering young maiden."

"We need to help the motherland," you replied as you continued writing down in your chart. "Serve Marley."

He laughed, a hoarse sound that caused his body to wheeze with weakness. You were under the impression that Gerstner liked to play with cigars in his youth.

"Don't move around too much, sir. It might cause your ribs to hit an internal organ, which could be fatal. Would you like me to tidy the bed?"

"No."

"A glass of water?"

"No."

"Breakfast?"

"No."