❝𝑰𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒔. 𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕.❞
— 𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄
꧁꧂
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY AREN'T AVAILABLE?" Valen questioned, mild exigency lining her words. "I don't understand. I had the consultation and everything."
Sitting behind a cluttered desk was one of the Scout Regiment's medics, who regarded her soberly through her cloudy, flimsy glasses. From the second she entered, Valen received the impression that she'd prefer doing anything but her job. "A moment, please."
Valen drummed her fingers on her lap. Days before when she'd first arrived at base, one of the first things she'd done was report the depletion of her medicine to the infirmary—it was only minutes ago when she'd finally been summoned. Coming in, she'd expected to hear good news.
And she was proved wrong.
While the medic sifted through the hodgepodge of parchment, pens, and other supplies, Valen entertained herself with the surroundings to divert her focus from the churning in her stomach. The space was equally as untidy as the desk, haphazard mounds of medical books—their conditions varying from worn to recently purchased—laying around, one located right beside one of the rear chair legs. Papers were strewn about the ground, and some parts of the floor were obscured entirely. The dust gathering on the towering, packed bookshelves teased at her nostrils, evoking an occasional sniffle, and she prayed the mold clinging to the ceiling was a figment of her imagination.
Walls, this place was dirty.
"Alright," the medic said, bringing Valen's thoughts back to the present. She was now reading from a folder, her eyes moving from behind her lenses. "Legally, everything's approved. Your prescription was renewed by Dr. Sauer weeks ago."
"Then...?"
The medic raised her pointer finger at her. "Just a minute." Valen repressed a groan. She understood she was likely tired and underpaid—Valen's own wage wasn't too impressive, either—but the anxiety ate at her. What in the world had happened to her sleeping pills? She started bouncing her right leg. It did nothing to minimize the nervousness billowing within her, but it was something.
"Oh." Valen's head snapped back to the woman. She frowned as she tapped her fingers against the desk and looked up at Valen. "I'm sorry, but there's been a complication."
"A complication?"
"Yes. I'm afraid we cannot cover the costs of your medication."
Valen's eyebrows knitted together. She was confused—very confused. In the two years she'd taken her pills, she'd never encountered a problem obtaining them. "Pardon?"
The woman shrugged. "I'm sorry," she responded, though Valen highly doubted that she cared about the situation. She discerned from her posture alone that she'd rather be elsewhere. Perhaps a wasteland sounded better to her, but when Valen thought about it, her office wasn't too far from being one. "The brass slashed our funding again. They only agreed to increase the equipment budget, and only by a small percent. The only reason your medication was insured is because the Corps gets more funding than we do. They have the funding to cover your medicine. We don't."
"Is there anything I can do?" Fortunately, her awakening had been much more serene, nowhere near the screaming and crying that had landed her in the Cadet Corps infirmary—but who or what ensured that it'd always be that way? Her pills were the only thing she could depend on to ward off the dreams— the explosions, the bleeding bird, everything that threatened her good night's rest. She needed them.
The medic lifted an eyebrow before her expression neutralized. "You have... options. But not many." She crossed her legs and leaned back. "Your first option is paying for it out of pocket." She spun the folder and pushed it towards her, pointing to a number inked in black at the bottom. "Price is right there." Valen squinted and pursed her lips.
It was more than she made in a month.
Qualm simmered in her chest. "Are there any over-the-counter options?" If her Squad Leader permitted so, she could always hop on her horse and head for one of Trost's pharmacies. All she needed was a medical excuse.
"You'd have to discuss that with them, but I personally would recommend not taking any other medication. Your prescription's strong, and if you stopped right now, it'd be a couple of months before it's completely out of your system. Again, I'm not a doctor." She pointed to the folder again. "Because of your size, you couldn't be prescribed the generic large dose pills, so they gave you a smaller dose, but with other ingredients. Now, they're good ingredients, but take anything else with them, you're going to have some complications." The medic practically emanated annoyance. "Were you not told any of this when they first prescribed you these?"
"Of course I was," Valen defended. Though she failed to recall the man's lecture word for word, she had a clear understanding of the rules that came with taking her sleeping pills: no drinking, no smoking, essentially no other medications unless he approved them personally—but she'd thought there'd be an exception with other sleep medications.
"So, I'm guessing you're familiar with the withdrawal symptoms, too?" Valen refused to utter a sound—now that was one thing he hadn't covered. The woman considered her with something she figured was incredulity, along with slight concern. Valen's fingers tightened around the armrest. Judging by her reaction, she wasn't going to be experiencing the run-of-the-mill headaches or crabbiness.
It was going to be something much, much worse.
"I'm going to accept that as a no," the medic said, drawing her conclusion from Valen's sudden sullenness. "Withdrawal symptoms are normal, especially with sleeping pills. Sometimes, they're mild, but they can be severe for some people. It all depends on the composition and how long you've been taking them." The woman dragged the folder back to her end. "Withdrawal symptoms include but are not limited to: migraines, shaking, sweating, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, disturbed sleeping patterns, changes in mood, anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, loss of consciousness, convulsions, seizures, hallucinations, and delirium."
Valen experienced at least six of those just by hearing her say them aloud. Disturbed sleeping patterns and migraines, both she'd expected. But loss of consciousness? Hallucinations? Delirium? And the doctor hadn't informed her of a single thing?
What in the hell had she been prescribed?
Reason three hundred and ninety-nine why she despised doctors— they were so quick to shove medicine down one's throat, but seldom bothered to explain what was in it or what it would do. "When would the symptoms start?" Valen asked, this time more subdued. At that point, she was more concerned with the withdrawal than securing a refill.
"Well, when's the last time you had a dose?"
"Over a week ago."
The medic shut her folder. "It'd be anytime now." She sighed and removed her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Protocol calls for gradual reduction of doses and direct guidance from a doctor, but we haven't the medicine, and Sauer's all the way in Wall Sina right now. None of us are trained to handle withdrawals." For the first time in their conversation, the medic appeared worried for her.
Valen didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. "There are three or so stages of symptoms, but I don't really remember them," the woman continued. "Starts off mild, but gets nasty later on. You could have delirium in the later stage."
Valen blinked. "Could?"
"Again, I said could. I stitch up wounds, not prescribe medication." She scoffed and massaged her temples. "Just what in the hell was he thinking, prescribing you shit without even discussing withdrawal symptoms? He shouldn't have even prescribed you anything in the first place." She plopped her glasses back into her case. "What were you taking them for, again?"
"Sleeping problems."
"Specifically...?"
"Insomnia and nightmares."
"Valen, is that your name?" Valen nodded. "Well, Valen, you should have just sucked it up."
And people like you should not be working in medicine.
Valen's displeasure was incredibly apparent because the woman raised her hands defensively. "If I told you to suck it up, it's because of the side effects, not because I think you're weak." Valen's glowering persisted. "I'm saying this as someone in the field, most professionals stopped caring after the Fall, especially if you aren't an aristocrat or an important merchant. Why do you think they spend most of their time in the interior? Some of them don't even know what's in the medicine, and those who know don't care, especially in your case, because you're..." The medic slowly closed her mouth, and her eyes wandered off in oblivion.
"Because I'm what?" Valen asked, daring her to finish her statement. Because she wasn't pale-skinned and light-eyed like everyone else in the damn Walls? Even after all this time, it frustrated her to no end when people treated her as an anomaly. She didn't need reminding that she was 'foreign' or 'exotic' or 'alien' or anything related to the unknown, not when she was stuck in a perpetual game of 'hide-and-seek' with sex traffickers, not when doctors would try to molest her for the sake of 'medicine', not when she did anything involving other people.
"Well, you know, uh..." Valen tilted her head. "My point was, uh, that it's not worth it, enduring all those side effects just because you're having some bad dreams." She exhaled. "Anyways, I, uh, your medication." The medic opened a drawer and reached inside, producing a paper. "Regarding the whole money thing, the system can cover the costs, if they find that it's medically necessary." She handed the form to Valen. "You'd fill out this application, but just the front page. Back page is for me to fill out. You might qualify, but it's hard to say. But if you get it back to me tonight, I could have the request filed by the end of this week."
"Right..." Valen said under her breath, her eyes skimming over the paper. "And how long would the process take?"
"Around a week, maybe two weeks," the woman answered. "No more than a month." Valen grimaced—that was too long for her. By the time her sleeping pills would be available, she probably would have woken up by the bunkhouse over five times by then, and it wasn't guaranteed her 'request' would be granted. Knowing how incompetent the royal government was, she didn't bother getting her hopes up.
Seemed like she was going to have to 'suck it up' until something happened.
"Do you have any other questions?" the medic asked. By the tone of her voice, she'd intimidated the woman so much that her mere presence discomforted her.
"No." Valen rose from her chair. "Thank you." The medic gave her a small nod before her eyes quickly averted back to the clutter on her desk. Valen spun on her heel on headed back to training, just as done with the woman as she was with her.
Trying to open the infirmary door, her hand spasmed.
꧁꧂
As the sky transitioned from an angry orange to a shaded cerulean, the air cooled, and dew clung onto the tiny blades of grass. Birds vacated the skies for the night, and animals resigned back to their dens to lodge themselves from the danger the dusky skies would bring.
Secluded from the bulk of the Scouts' was the Special Operations Squad's headquarters—an imposing, stone castle surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of pines and wild bushes bedecked with poisonous berries. Having once been a royal residence, it was constructed to astound, its grandeur prevailing through years of inconsideration. Its location adjacent to the mountains did not diminish how striking it was.
In one of the castle's many spaces, a group of men enjoyed a conversation, including Commander Erwin and Captain Levi. Also in the room were two other men, Eld—a stern young man whose brown eyes illustrated his thoughtful nature—and Gunther—a similarly natured individual, his straight, ebony hair combed back to peak at the back of his head.
Eld's light, but no less genial laughter resounded from the walls. "That was a nice one." A tiny smile could be seen on Gunther's normally placid expression, and Erwin allowed a puny chuckle to slip through. The Captain remained stoic. "Haven't had a laugh in a while."
"Right," Gunther grunted, lapsing back to his usual, steady persona. A mellow breeze drifted in through the opened window and into the room, which once again was serving its purpose as a study. It'd been furnished with a couple of old, but sturdy bookcases, a scanty selection of books, a desk large enough for obscene amounts of paperwork, and a couple of chairs, as well as a big armchair occupied by Erwin. It was the Captain's study (and bedroom) specifically.
Gunther stood up, grimacing—training had winded his body. "It was great talking to you all, but we got things to do. The firewood isn't going to collect itself."
"Right," Erwin said as Eld too rose from his chair. "I enjoyed our conversation. May the both of you have a great rest of your evening."
"You too," Eld responded. A stale chorus of 'goodnights' followed as Eld and Gunther exited, the former closing the door behind him. When the door closed, only Levi and Erwin stayed.
Levi stood and walked to his desk. "We just ended our conversation and you've already returned to work," Erwin remarked.
"If I don't start now, I'll be up to the crack of dawn working on this," Levi replied. His duties as Captain entailed many tasks, including a vicious quantity of paperwork that would make the pompous, high-flown university students from Wall Sina collapse in misery—but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't experienced a similar mortification when he laid eyes on his first stack.
"I agree. Paperwork can be overbearing," Erwin agreed, he too having been burdened by the monstrosity that was a heap of to-be-finished paperwork. "I'm not going to pester you for much longer. I understand you have things to do. I only wanted to know your impression of the recruits from the 104th class. Other than Eren, of course."
"My first impression of the recruits, you say?" Levi droned. As always, a less-than-ideal number of Cadets had enlisted into the Scout Regiment. In fact, enlistment rates had dwindled since Wall Maria was first breached, but this year's graduating class seemed remarkably promising considering that a majority of them—mainly those hailing from the Southern Division—had gained experience in the Battle of Trost. Still, it was unwise to draw conclusions so early on in their careers. "They're alright. It's an interesting year since most of them already have Titan experience."
"Yes, it is. Normally, most recruits come in with no experience. I hope this is reflected in our mortality rates for this expedition," Erwin commented. "What was your impression of Valen?"
"Valen?" His grip on the pen weakened at the mention of the woman. Though it'd been days, nearly a week since their first meeting, thoughts of the woman had meandered through his mind, the encounter replaying compulsively, every detail accounted for. The messily woven braids that clung to her scalp, the slight downwards curve of her lips... And her eyes.
Those unsettling, sable eyes.
The memory ran chills down his spine. It embarrassed him, in a way; usually, he was the one striking dread in others, not the other way around. Because having served in the Scout Regiment, Levi was all too familiar with the enthusiasm and sickening optimism almost all recruits lugged with them, how they passionately expressed their devotion to the cause, eyes brimming with zeal. Valen, though? She was devoid of anything that implied eagerness. Everything about her connoted an acute disinterest in not only her profession, but in the world around her as well, and it greatly mystified Levi, making him ponder what had incited the deep-seated indifference that burdened her gaze. That apathy, though, was accompanied by something else—an enormous sense of pride big enough to fill a palace. It'd come through her words, the way she held herself...
And it nauseated him.
"She's... interesting." Levi set his pen down. "Very interesting."
Erwin laughed weakly. "She's got a mind of her own. Rather solitary, too," he noted. "For such a skilled woman, recruiting her was surprisingly easy. People of her category are normally lining up to secure a position with the MPs, but according to her instructors, she'd already selected the Scout Regiment halfway through her first year."
Levi blinked. For a woman who looked so unmoved about anything, he struggled to believe that she'd decided so early on to join the Scout Regiment. That, among many other things, discommoded him. "It might be me, but there's something strange about her," he finally confessed.
"If you're saying that because of her appearance—"
"I'm not talking about her appearance," Levi interjected. That was not to say he hadn't picked up on it, if anything, it'd all stood right out to him, how dark her eyes were in comparison to his. And her skin, too—it had a taupe-ish tone that, as far as he was concerned, no one had or could emulate. Not even the field workers were as brown-skinned as she was. But that pretension she carried had detracted his focus from her appearance. "There's... something off about her. Can't quite place a finger on it."
"Ah, I see," Erwin said, processing what he'd said. "Well, you are right, Levi. There is something strange about her." He opened a folder he'd brought to the castle, something Levi assumed contained paperwork pertaining to the Scouts' fiscal plight—that, or the Scout Regiment's custody of Eren.
"This is something I planned on discussing sooner or later," Erwin said, thumbing through. He plucked a single sheet out and delicately placed it on the Captain's desk.
"What's this?" Levi questioned, sliding the paper closer. It sparsely resembled the paperwork he pushed through nightly. He zeroed in, trying to find its purpose.
"It's a background information report. Valen's background information." Levi stared at the lettering, his steely eyes traveling to the heading.
FERREIRA, VALEN. He continued across and downwards, finding more details: her birthday—November 15th, precisely—, enlistment and graduation dates, height and weight... But the farther he proceeded, the more empty lines he stumbled upon. Any formal education? Nothing, but then again, barely anyone could afford to attend school. Employment prior to enlistment? Nothing as well, but the Fall of Wall Maria had plunged almost all of humanity into economic catastrophe.
As if the information provided wasn't scarce enough, her place of birth and family and guardian lines had stayed uncompleted, too. Everything from there on was empty, excluding her exquisitely written signature at the bottom. "There's hardly anything," Levi said.
"Correct," Erwin said. His finger rested on a paragraph stamped at the top right corner of the page, something he'd missed early on. "And according to this, the little information we do have may be inaccurate. The only thing that's certain is that she survived the Fall of Wall Maria five years ago." It'd stupified Levi, how lacking her report was. It'd been ages since he'd seen such a paltry amount of information.
"Why so?"
"I asked myself the same question." He browsed through his folder again. "I decided to hold my own investigation, so I contacted the Trost registry to see if her documentation had been mishandled. It was the most intriguing thing."
By now, Levi had completely surrendered his attention. "What do you mean by 'intriguing?"
"Her documentation was not mishandled," Erwin answered, "and that this is not the first time her background's been investigated."
"She's been investigated before?"
"Yes," Erwin asserted. "Around eight years ago, an investigation was held on Valen's background. She was brought to Shiganshina's civilian registry after being discovered unconscious in a field. Allegedly, she had a neurological injury. She could hardly speak or stand on her own. But that was not the only reason she was brought to the registry." He scooted to the end of his chair. "She had no recollection of anything."
"Memory loss? Like, complete memory loss?" Levi asked. Erwin nodded. "That's odd. She was a teenager then, wasn't she? How does a teenager lose all their memories?"
"The circumstances behind her memory loss are uncertain. Not even Grisha Jaeger could ascertain why she'd lost her memories, and he was one of the best doctors Shiganshina had around," Erwin explained. "The Shiganshina registry filed a request to every city within the Walls to find her family. They found nothing."
Confusion glazed over his features. "Absolutely nothing?" Levi asked.
"Nothing," Erwin confirmed. "Of course, it might be more rational to assume her guardians might be living in one of the more rural regions. Not everyone is accounted for in the registries. There are people hiding in the mountains or the woods, like the Oriental Clan. It's a reasonable conclusion, considering minority bloodlines are heavily persecuted."
"What about her family? Did they try looking for her?"
"No, the authorities would have been alerted. They never did try looking for her," Erwin answered. "Frankly, I'm not too concerned for her guardians. It's her memory loss that has me uneased. It was not a concussion or apoplexy... Just a neurological injury." Erwin crossed his arms. "The circumstances are strange. Too strange."
Levi gave Erwin a look. "Are you claiming her memory loss was falsified?"
"I'm not claiming anything. But there's more to this than an ambiguous neurological injury. It's..." Erwin exhaled, and his posture loosened. "My apologies. I got carried away." He culled another paper. "Moving on. There's one more thing I'd like for you to see."
"You best keep your word..." Levi grumbled as he accepted it. "What is it this time?"
"These are Valen's Cadet Corps scores. I thought you might find them interesting."
"I'll be the judge of that..." Levi said under his breath. His eyes scanned over the report, digesting the information before humming in pleasant surprise. Though Erwin mentioned she was an extraordinarily skilled woman, it was only until then he'd truly grasped how accomplished she was: her report was bedecked with positive comments from her instructors, citing her wits and aptitude on the training grounds. So far, she hadn't scored lower than an eight during her training exercises—some of her scores even rivaled Mikasa's, who as much as he hated to confess, possessed a once-in-a-generation capacity.
Erwin espied his amusement and smiled. "Thoughts?"
Levi nodded weakly. "She's alright." Genuinely, he had much more to say about the woman but chose to withhold his opinions. Knowing the Commander, he'd make insinuations the second he opened his mouth. He turned the page to read what remained of her evaluation — her teamwork score — and he made a face.
Her score, in simple terms, was less than stellar.
"...two out of ten?" Levi said to himself. Based on their first meeting, he'd deduced Valen possessed minimal social graces. Seeing the grade on paper, though, was another thing.
Deliberately avoids colleagues.
Acts as she pleases.
Too conceited for her own good—finds pleasure in making her colleagues look like imbeciles.
"I did say she was solitary," Erwin clarified. Levi flipped the paper to the first side. "I do hope her teamwork score hasn't spoiled your opinion of her."
"It hasn't, but it's concerning," Levi said, the upcoming expedition on his mind. The Long Range Scouting Formation relied thoroughly on communication. The smallest misperception could compromise the entire branch. Valen was talented, alright. But she was as green as the grass he stepped on, and in the scenario the formation was breached, she'd be gravely injured, or worse—transported back to the Walls in a sack and buried in a cemetery, to be forgotten in later battles.
"That is something her Squad Leader will handle," Erwin assured. "Perhaps a change in environment will help her. The Eastern Division isn't what you call well-behaved."
"Maybe..." With a twenty percent, Levi surmised a new environment would do little to nothing to improve her social skills. Maybe she'd say another four or five words a day—or she'd stop speaking completely.
The light in the room had darkened, and Erwin glanced at the clock. "I've harassed you enough. I'll be on my way now." He snapped up her final evaluation and dropped it back into his folder. "If by any chance she caught your interest, she usually trains on her own in the gymnasium before dinner, so if you'd like, you could go and have a word with her personally."
"You're saying that as if I'm actually going to do that," Levi quipped.
"You absolutely should."
꧁꧂
𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆
Happy New Year! 2020 was a sucky year for many of us, so I'm hoping things just get better in 2021. I'm barely recovering from a severe depressive episode that started back in May and I'm hoping to make progress now that I'm seeing my therapist again.
Just a quick fact: two years ago on this day, I was actually writing the first chapter for this story, well, the old version. The published version is nowhere near similar to the 2019 version.
Again, sorry if I blathered on for too long... I guess I'm naturally talkative when I'm typing (IRL me is super fucking quiet). Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the holidays and made good choices, because things are getting crazy, even with vaccines rolling out. Continue to make good choices, and I hope to see you all next Friday for the fourth chapter.
Much love,
C.