(Y/N) hadn't ever been sick until the morning the world fell apart.

Petra's cold, trembling hands brushed her neck as she pulled back her hair. She was saying something (Y/N) could not hear over her sobs. She would try to catch her breath, but she would think of little Fynn and his blood staining the cobblestone outside of their house. The way he must have been torn, limb from limb, just like her countless comrades as he cried and begged and screamed. She could hear it. She could smell it. She felt the bile rise in her throat and then, she was sick again.

Hot tears fell down her cheeks. Her body shook helplessly. Petra rubbed a gentle hand against her back and said something else (Y/N) couldn't listen to.

She felt like she had died. Then, when she realized she hadn't, she wished that she had.

She did not know how long she sat there on that cold bathroom floor. After a while, Petra pulled her up. She brought her to her bed, wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders, and held (Y/N) for what felt like hours as she cried and screamed and everything else in between. Then, in time, once she exhausted herself, (Y/N) fell asleep.

When she woke again, she was alone.

She didn't know what time it was, but she could tell it'd been some hours. The sky turned pink as the sun dipped behind the walls. (Y/N)'s room was painted with squares of orange light that reminded her of flames. They moved slowly across the hardwood, and she watched as she laid unmoving on her mattress.

Sometime later, she heard voices outside her door. Their shadows crept under the doorframe.

"You need a break, Petra. You've been standing out here all day." It was Eld. "I'll watch her; you go eat."

"Levi brought me something when he brought her the tea." Petra's voice sounded thin. (Y/N)'s eyes moved to the teacup she planned on ignoring until then. There was still a tiny plume of steam rising. It hadn't been long since he came.

"Is she up?" Eld tried. "If she is, she needs to eat, too."

"Let her rest. She just lost everything."

"Which is why she shouldn't be alone."

(Y/N) didn't care what Eld thought. She didn't care what Petra thought. She wished they would both go away.

"Has she woken up yet?" Asked a new voice. It was Levi. (Y/N) watched his shadow approach the others.

Petra sighed. "No, I don't—hold on, you can't just—"

But (Y/N)'s bedroom door opened before Petra could finish. Levi stood in the doorway, silver gaze falling on (Y/N), but she kept her eyes on the cup. The steam had run out.

"Get up," he said.

He reached for the lantern. In the dim light, (Y/N) could see Petra's bloodshot eyes; she'd been crying, too. Levi stepped in between them just as (Y/N) took note of her and he pulled the blanket off of her just as quickly.

"We're going,"

(Y/N) did not move; she didn't have the energy.

"Going?" Repeated Petra. "Where?"

"The outskirts of Wall Rose." He answered, fetching a clean shirt. "That's where all the survivors are. If her family is alive, that's where they'd be."

(Y/N) brought herself to look at him as he passed her clean clothes. It was the first time she allowed herself to entertain the idea of her family's survival. Tentatively, she reached out. The cotton shirt he presented her was cool against her fingers, just like it was when her mother would bring it in after it dried.

She remembered spending afternoons splashing in the sink while her mother did all the hard laundry work. She would eventually shoo her away and call for Moritz's help, claiming (Y/N) was causing more trouble than it was worth. Yet she would still say yes when (Y/N) asked to help the next time.

"Thank you," (Y/N) said softly, rubbing her thumb along the collar of her shirt.

Levi's voice was softer the next time he spoke, but only just. (Y/N) barely caught the difference. "Clean yourself up," he said. "We'll go when you're ready." Then, he took the cold tea from the nightstand and left the room.

"I wanted her out of bed, not riding a horse," Eld muttered. "Hey," he called. "Levi!" Then, he was gone, too.

Petra remained. She watched as (Y/N) placed a hand on her mattress and pushed herself to sit up with great effort. Her messy hair fell over her shoulders.

"Are you sure you want to go?" Petra asked.

(Y/N)'s necklace dangled as she moved and the ring attached to it caught the light and reflected it into her eyes. A promise she and Klaus made to each other.

"No," (Y/N) answered. Her voice did not sound like its own. It was hoarse and soft, delicate as she never was.

"You don't have to—"

"I do,"

Petra fell silent, unable to understand and once again watching her move, this time out of bed and toward the bathroom. The floor was cold against (Y/N)'s bare feet. It reminded her of when she'd wake in the dead of night as a young child after a nightmare. Her father would bring her into the living room to read her stories. She wished that was what she was doing then.

Suddenly, her legs felt weak and she grabbed onto the doorframe to catch herself. Petra started forward, but (Y/N) turned away.

"I do have to, right?" Her voice wavered, her eyes stung. "It'll be worse not knowing. Won't it?"

Petra was quiet for what felt like a long time. "If I were in your shoes, I think it would kill me not knowing."

(Y/N) took a moment to consider that, then she nodded and took in a breath. "I'll be out soon,"

Once dressed, she met with Levi by the stables. They took their horses, prepared them to go, and then set off. The ride to the outskirts of Wall Rose was quiet. (Y/N) didn't have it in her to speak and Levi seemed like he didn't want to. They arrived at the evacuation site by nightfall.

They racked up their horses on a nearby post. (Y/N) could only bring herself to watch her hands move slowly and quietly. She looped the rope, pulled it through tight, and let it slip through her fingers as she let go.

"Levi,"

The sound of her voice surprised both of them. He looked over but she was unable to meet his eyes.

"If they aren't here..." she muttered. "I don't know what I'll do..."

They were her future, her reason for fighting. If they did die, she would have spent all those years striving for nothing.

"Look at me," Levi commanded.

She did. He always had an intense way about him, but (Y/N) hadn't ever seen him as severe as then. His voice held the authority of the greatest king, and his eyes seemed to be looking straight through her. In them, she saw something she could not place right away, for she'd never seen it anyone look at her like that. It brought her a great sense of comfort.

"If they're not here, you're gonna stay alive long enough to avenge them." He said. "And then you're gonna kill those shit heads on the other side of that wall and take back your home."

(Y/N) appreciated his trying, but she didn't see the need to reclaim her home if she had no family to share it with. Still, she feigned gratitude and settled for a nod. Then, they searched.

(Y/N) asked people she recognized from the market if they'd seen her mother, but they were too shaken to say a word. Levi spoke to Garrison soldiers instead, but they proved to be just as helpful. They resorted to simply walking around the square and keeping out a watchful eye.

With each step (Y/N) took, she felt the world crumble. Every unfamiliar face she passed was just another confirmation that her worst fear had come true. She kept moving, seeing face after face after face–it was too much. The air was heavy. Her body shook. Fynn wasn't drawing in his notebook on the stairs. (Y/N)'s vision blurred.

She wiped at her eyes, blinked a few times so she could see, and found she was right back where she started. "No," she said. "That's not– they're..."

But then she saw it.

There was no Mama and there was no Papa. Only little Fynn, bloodstained and trembling like a leaf in the wind. He clung to her like she was their parents, but (Y/N) was only twenty-two. She was not her mother and she would never be her father.

She didn't speak as she held him closer, though the words I'm sorry burned at the tip of her tongue. Her eyes stung and her throat went sore. I'm sorry, she thought. I'm sorry. It didn't feel like enough. Nothing could be after the end of the world.

She held his head gently in the crook of her neck, hands shaking as she smoothed out his hair. He gripped the fabric of her shirt as he cried and cried. (Y/N) was scared to think how much he'd seen.

I'm so sorry.

But she was crying then, too, and speaking became impossible. She could only sit with him and keep his head down so he wouldn't see her grief. She hoped her silence was enough to trick him into believing everything was okay.

They stayed there for a long time before she remembered Levi. (Y/N) turned her head to find him, but he was gone. And Fynn, startled, clung to her tighter and begged her, "Don't go!"

"I'm not," she said. There was no place to go. Not anymore. "I'm not,"

She stayed with the survivors overnight, unsure what else she could do.

By the time Levi returned, Fynn could barely keep his eyes open. He brought with him a small key which Levi dropped into (Y/N)'s hand.

"It's for the inn," he said. "I figured the kid should sleep in a bed tonight."

"Thanks," She tried to smile. "How much was it?"

"Don't worry." Levi leaned on the wall beside her. For a moment they shared the silence, then he asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to do with him?"

Of course, she had – she just didn't have a clue. He had no home to go back to and she had none where she could bring him. The barracks were for soldiers, not an eleven year old boy.

She brushed Fynn's matted hair away from his face. Under all the blood and dirt, he looked peaceful. "I'm going to try Stohess. We'll leave in the morning."

"What's in Stohess?"

"Our brother. He's in the Military Police, but I figure Fynn would be better off with him than me. Safer,"

"I'll head back in the morning, then. Let Erwin know why you're gone."

(Y/N) never considered herself and Levi to be close, though she did enjoy his company and sarcastic remarks. Rarely had she experienced his kindness, but the few times she had left her feeling almost dazed. It always seemed out of character for him.

That night she realized it was just who he was.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything,"

For a moment, Levi said nothing. Then, standing up to go, he said, "Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning."

In her room, she found a cloth to run under warm water. She sat beside Fynn on the edge of the bed and gently began washing away all the grime on his face. He had no cuts, only a bruise above his eyebrow. She couldn't bear to wonder whose blood stained his skin.

"I can do it,"

(Y/N) hadn't even noticed that he was awake, but he pulled himself to sit up and took the rag from her hands.

She watched him wipe at his face. "We're leaving for the interior tomorrow."

He shook his head. "I don't want to stay with Moritz. I want to stay with you."

"I don't have anywhere," she said. "Moritz has a house, and it's safer there. There's more food. And plenty of kids to—"

"I want to stay with you."

Often, (Y/N) would forget Fynn was just as stubborn as she was. Most days, it amused her; it even made her proud. But that night, she didn't feel like arguing.

"Okay," she nodded. "But we're still going. He needs to know we're okay."

He didn't say anything.

"If Klaus is still alive, he'd be here. Before we go I'm going to look around one more time—"

"He's not here,"

(Y/N) met Fynn's eyes. Even in the dim moonlight slipping past the blinds, she could see his tears.

"We don't know that."

"He was on the boat," he said. "But they wouldn't let me on. There wasn't enough room. And Klaus–" Fynn trembled with a sob. "He got off so I could get on. He said there would be more boats, and he'd meet me, and we'd find you, but he never—"

He couldn't finish. "I'm sorry," he cried. (Y/N) pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry,"

"No," said (Y/N). She was surprised at how steady her voice was, though her throat ached from fighting back tears. "All it means is he didn't get on a boat." She could feel her hands shaking. "He's on his way, it'll just be a little longer. Okay?"

Fynn didn't answer.

She was afraid he already figured out she was lying.