Rumbling Up That Hill [Attack on Titan Songfics]

It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Hange)

The worst part about being the commander wasn't the deaths. It was what came immediately after, the urgency to move on, the guilt of being unable to grieve, the grief that stung along with all the previous stings. And, of course, the loneliness that descended upon each survivor as night fell and a sleepless silence prevailed.

Hange had to deal with that --- and the letters. It was dark in their quarters. They purposely chose a small lamp for this task. It would suffice; and its sombre glow was fitting for the occasion. There were eight letters to write today, eight families who would receive terrible news. Erwin remembered everyone in his teams -- even bits and pieces of them, and he advised Hange to be familiar with at least one fact about each new recruit. It would humanize them, and even more than that, emphasize the meaning of their deaths. Hange had no time to cry. But the tears resurfaced between the stroke of their signature and the "Dear" of the letter that followed. Seven letters. Hange couldn't write the eighth.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Braus, it began, and there it ended.

Hange wiped their face. I need a break.

They slowly pulled themselves up and walked out, tiptoeing even though it was already unnervingly still and silent all throughout the building. Hange had to pass the hallways containing the male and female quarters first, then another corridor that opened out to the courtyard, before they could reach the kitchen. Their mind was so deep in their thoughts that they weren't able to see straight ahead -- not like their vision was the way it used to be, of course -- and they literally stumbled a crouched figure in front of the door of the female dorm.

"Mikasa! What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?"

The moonlight from the glass window on the other side of the hallway was enough to illuminate the tears in Mikasa's eyes. "It's too quiet inside," Mikasa told Hange. "I can't sleep."

Hange remembered the nights Sasha would sneak food from the pantry into their room, and how Mikasa would scold her; they remembered how the girls would whisper and laugh and gossip until they needed to be reprimanded. Mikasa rarely spoke, but Sasha never cared and asked her questions anyway. Two polar opposites, yet Hange couldn't imagine how devastated Mikasa must be.

Hange sighed. "Try to get some rest, Mikasa," they said. "We still have other missions to accomplish."

Mikasa nodded and slowly pulled herself to a standing position.

"Mikasa," Hange said softly. "It will never get easy."

Mikasa nodded again. "I know," she replied. "Thank you for everything, Hange - san."

Hange continued walking, passing by the male quarters next. This time, they squinted their eyes to see if Jean and Connie were also huddled in the corridor. But they didn't stumble upon anything. There was, however, a strange muffling sound that stopped when they reached the door. Jean? Connie? Crying? It wouldn't surprise Hange. Those three were inseparable -- Jean, Connie, and Sasha. Connie would do something foolish, Sasha would follow suit, and Jean would go next -- after teasing the other two, of course. Yet, all of them had something to offer to the team. Jean's leadership skills were improving, Connie was quick and skilled with both the new and old ODM gears, and Sasha was an excellent sniper.

When the new uniforms for the scouts were introduced for this task, they were all thrilled. The black suits were sleek and comfortable and made for easier mobility, yet Hange noticed that Armin was frowning. Armin, their star pupil whose brilliant natural intellect both Hange and Erwin hoped to hone, found something that would haunt Hange for the rest of their life. "Why doesn't Sasha have a chest plate?" he asked.

"She's our sniper," Levi replied. "It would hinder her mobility."

"She'll be fine because we'll all be taking care of each other," replied Hange. "Don't worry, Armin. Levi doesn't have a chest plate too."

But he's Levi, they all said in their heads, yet afterward, nothing more was said about the matter.

Hange crossed another hallway, went down a staircase, and entered the pantry. It was bright and lit. Levi sat alone at the head of a table, staring angrily at the lone, unpeeled baked potato on top of it.

"Goodness, Levi, you shocked me."

Levi simply raised his head and said, "You're here."

Hange sat beside Levi and he placed his hand on theirs. They sat that way, holding each other, staring at the potato on the table.

"I couldn't sleep," Levi explained. "I could hear Jean and Connie crying from the other side of the wall."

"I stumbled across Mikasa on the way," Hange replied. "She's taking it hard, too."

Levi sighed. He didn't say much, but Hange had learned, over all the years they'd spent together, how to decipher the words in his sighs, and they knew that he, too, was taking Sasha's death hard. They loved all of the kids, of course, but like all parents, it was not hard to have favorites. Hange's intellectual heir was Armin while Levi's protege was Mikasa. Hange had a soft spot for Jean while Levi found a lot of potential in Connie's lithe athleticism. They both missed Eren as they knew him.

Sasha, on the other hand? She was their honorary youngest child. The one they were both fond of. The one who made them laugh with her silliness and bluntness, her optimism and affection. The one they both subconsciously tried to shield, hoping that through protecting her they would be able to preserve a shred of the world that they used to understand, that easy and simple world slipping farther away from them by the second, spreading and growing darker and darker. Then Sasha was killed, by a child whose innocence was also a thing of the past, whose eyes displayed the same relentless rage as Eren's. Try as they might, neither Hange nor Levi could blame the little girl. Not even now, while staring at the potato they had promised to surprise Sasha with the night after the mission.

Hange closed their eyes, and broke the silence. "Levi, do you think --- do you think we'd still be together like this, this time next year?"

"Don't talk like that," snapped Levi.

"Sasha was such a pure soul," Hange said, fighting their tears. "She reminded me of who I used to be."

"You had to change. You're the commander. You know blood will eventually be on your hands."

"But--"

"Erwin," Levi continued, placing his other hand on top of Hange's, "would be proud of you. Immensely. Your strength will keep us going."

Hange said nothing. They just stared at the potato on the table, and replayed memories of Sasha in their mind. And now, they were wondering. "If something happens to me," Hange whispered, "would people care this much? Would they remember me like this?"

Hange finally turned to Levi. They tried to read the expression in his face, expecting him to say something along the lines of, "Nothing will happen, Hange," or "We have to keep moving forward." But instead, Levi's face was grim.

"No," he said flatly. "People won't cry for you the way they cried for Sasha."

Hange's heart sank.

"If something happens to you, some would even be thrilled. You're the commander, and your failure would mean the failure of the Survey Corps, of our island. But the rest would mourn for you. They would mourn for you deeply, and rightly so. They would be mourning for the hero of Paradis, and continue dedicating their hearts."