Hello, Stranger (Hange Zoë x f!reader)

Part eleven

You winced as your blow made contact with the dummy. It was past midnight now, some ungodly hour, you weren’t sure of, and you had left the warmth of your shared bed, rather stupidly, to squeeze in a few extra hours of training. You’d had to replace yourself with a pillow in to slip out. Your arms felt heavy as they pried Hange’s off of you, almost turning back when you saw them frown at the loss of your warmth, pulling the pillow closer in some desperate attempt to bring you back. You were doing this to protect them, you had to remind yourself. You could let them cuddle you later, ideally, once they understood what it really meant to you, and maybe even initiate the hug yourself.

Captain Levi had been right, you mused, your chest heaving and sweat sticking hair to your forehead. You depended too much on your shifting to survive. You couldn’t do that now, in their world, you couldn’t just turn into a panther and watch as a titan, confused, lost interest. You needed to adapt, and that meant doing what the scouts did. Learn to use ODM, to use those swords, and, to fight. Left, right, left, right. The monotony of the slap of knuckles on leather soon became a rhythm. You imagined the dummy had a knife. You ducked, jabbed it in its ribs, stepped back as it hunched over and slashed blindly. Go for the legs. You landed a kick at the base of the bag, the back of the knees, and your opponent buckled, their knife skittering away into the shadows. You stood still, panting now, but somewhat proud.

“You do that in a real fight and you’ll shatter your thumbs.”

You spun around, ducking under the cold gaze of none other than the captain. Speak of the devil.

“Sorry, sir,” the word still felt strange, you weren’t used to having to answer to anyone, “did I wake you?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t wake the whole squad slapping that thing. Are you trying to get your ass beat, or is it just a natural talent?”

You bit your tongue. He wasn’t even technically your superior, you weren’t even a scout.

“Natural talent.”

His gaze flickered between you and the punching bag.

“Keep your thumbs out of your fingers, and lighten up on your feet. If someone sneezed you’d end up on your ass.”

You blinked. You hadn’t expected genuinely helpful feedback. You’d expected more sarcastic input.

“Thank you, sir. Anything else I should do?”

“It’s not going to count for shit against a titan,” your face fell, there it was, “but it’s a start. Keep it up.”

With that, he gave you one final nod, and turned back up the corridor he had come from. That had been a, surprisingly, positive encounter. You readjusted your stance and unwrapped your fingers from around your thumbs. It felt better now, less pressure as you continued your assault on the bag. Hange had told you he hadn’t always been a scout, and watching him, it made sense. There was something different about him, something in his eyes, compared to the hundreds of new eyes you’d seen. He’d lost, and a lot. Hange hadn’t said who, but you had the wit not to pry. He hadn’t signed up to find meaning in his life, he believed in the cause, and despite his curtness, you couldn’t help but respect him for it.

You continued your onslaught until your muscles ached and sun began to seep in through the small basement window. The bag slowly came to a swinging stop. You’d have to sneak back into the bathroom, you groaned. Hange was taking you to meet the commander today, Erwin, and you wanted to make a good first impression, not show up like the sweaty mess you were at the moment. He’d take one look at you, ask Hange what ditch they dragged you out of, and kindly ask them to put you back.

The corridors were still relatively empty as you headed back. You were no longer an new oddity, just another face under the banner of the Wings of Freedom. Hange’s room wasn’t too far from the basement, and if you were careful, you hoped you would be able to let them sleep on. You winced as the door creaked, slipping inside, thankful the cold stone floor wouldn’t creak under your weight. Waiting for a moment, you heard Hange’s breathing continue in its slumber ridden monotony. You ventured from the office to the bedroom, and were proved correct. Hange was still wrapped around the pillow, drooling slightly in between soft snores. You bit back a soft chuckle. For all their bravado when they were awake, a sleepy Hange was utterly docile, and if you were honest, adorable.

You turned to grab your uniform, detangling the harness straps, when you heard the bed creak.

“Wha? Y/N? Where’d you go?” Hange was fumbling for their glasses, squinting slightly in your direction.

“Sorry, just wanted to get in a bit of training. I don’t wanna seem like a complete waste of space.” You smirked at them as they scowled.

“Shshsh, you’re no waste of space. Erwin’ll see that. I’ll be there with you, and then we can get back to focusing on getting new titan test subjects! I want to see if we can get an abnormal this time, and a regular, then I can compare them and, ah! Do so much more!”

Hange unwrapped themself from the pillow and stretched, their oversized shirt slipping down their collarbone. Heat burned at the back of your neck, as your head snapped forward.

“Do you want to borrow one of mine?”

“Hm?” You continued to fiddle with your harness, attempting to hide your blush.

“One of my shirts, it’s still fresh pressed.”

“Oh,” Hange had gotten out of bed now and stood to your left, rummaging through their drawers, “yeah, thanks, that’d be great.”

“Now go get ready, I need to get my nest experiment proposal together!”

An hour later, you sat, knee jittering, outside the rather imposing office of the Survey Corps’ commander. Hange had gone in alone, smiling at you and ensuring everything would be fine from atop her stack of dishevelled papers. That felt like an eternity ago. You weren’t alone waiting outside. A soldier, barely, you judged by looking at him, sat opposite, staring intently at the floorboards. He’d been waiting longer than you. He didn’t look, nor smell familiar. You scuffed your boot, fighting back a smile as he jolted slightly and finally looked at you. It clicked.

“Eren Jaegar?”

He frowned slightly at that. “Yeah?”

You dragged your chair slightly closer. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”

Your name seemed to ring a bell.

“Hange’s new assistant? From outside the walls?”

You nodded. “Pleased to meet you!”

Eren took your outstretched hand in his and shook it. Your meagre reputation preceded you.

“How did you survive out there, amongst the titans? How?”

His gaze was intense.

“Just had to be quick, and smart. Titans are dangerous, but stupid. As long as you stayed out of their reach, you were good.”

“Did you ever have to kill one?”

Your face fell.

“Once. But it wasn’t by choice. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I didn’t have those swords you do.”

“How then?”

Your mind reeled as you began to search for a feasible excuse or explanation. By some merciful intervention by the universe or higher power, you never had to answer, as Hange swung the door open.

“Erwin’s ready for you now!”