The Turquoise Cure (Eren X Reader)

Chapter 34: Dead Ends

    Strumming your fingers through your hair, you rocked back and forth, the hard chair beneath you digging into your spine. "So what do we do now?" you asked, breaking the silence. The room was cold and dark, in a building that Levi had picked for security reasons: nobody was much inclined to go poking around old ruins when half of the city was squatting in them these days. "We'll have to get them back," Mikasa said resolutely, tightening her scarf around her neck. "That will come later," Levi said, scraping off something that looked a lot like blood from his boots. "What do you mean, 'that will come later?'" Mikasa barked, glaring at him from her seat across the room. "I mean-," Levi insisted, "that there are other things that have to come first." "Like what?" Connie asked, leaning forward in his chair to rest his head in his hands. "Like figuring out where they are and how we're going to get them back," you answered, toying with the dead ends of your (h/c) hair.
    It had only taken a few hours to devise a plan. Hange and Levi had managed to convince Dimo Reeves, a wealthy businessman who practically ran the city, to help set a trap for some of the men he had employed under the Military Police. Levi had promised his safety in exchange for his help, but as you stood in the back of the room, the damp ceiling dripping acidic water onto your cheeks, you knew it couldn't be helped. If the Military Police wanted someone dead, then they would make sure they ended up dead. "So when the wagon stops, you'll be there to capture them?" Reeves asked, his son fidgeting with his nails behind him. "Yes," Levi said, standing up to indicate the conclusion of the meeting. "Alright," Reeves said, exhaling sharply as if he'd been holding his breath, "then let's get going."
    As you fumbled with the buttons on your gear, you nearly bumped into Armin, who was standing stock still at the exit of the tavern. You'd heard earlier as he'd recounted that he had shot one of the Military Police officers who was trying to kill Jean. It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was killing him. "Armin," you said, patting his arm delicately. He didn't turn to look at you, but you knew he was listening. "You did what you had to do." "How can you say that?" he stammered, sucking in air as though drowning in it. He steadied himself against the doorframe, looking as though he were about to retch again. "I'm sorry," you whispered, pushing past him and disappearing into the cold night air that enveloped the town, remembering all too well the first time you had done it.
    The mission to retrieve the two Military Police soldiers went by without a hitch- at least it had while your group was there. You'd taken the two men, Djel Sannes and Ralph without any problems, but unfortunately, you would find out the following morning the neglect that your group had bestowed upon the Reeves family.
    You'd thought that the questioning would surely wait until the following morning, as the events of the day were finally catching up to you. Your joints ached, and your muscles were wrought with soreness. Yet all the while, you felt a sense of numbness that you couldn't quite shake. "(Y/N)," Levi said, approaching you from behind as you entered the dungeon of the tavern, one of the men bound and tied as you dragged him down. "Yes?" you asked, flinging the man harshly into the lone chair in the dungeon, his grunting behind the cloth in his mouth never ending. "Hange and I are going to torture him," Levi said, his eyes vacant and unseeing. "And what do I care?" you asked, dreading what he was going to say. "Surely you don't think that I'm an experienced torturer?" Levi almost laughed as he lit a lantern in the corner of the dark room. "Of course not," he chuckled, straightening the platter in front of him. It looked like a buffet for him, needles, pliers, stencils, and everything you could possibly use to hurt another human being laid out neatly in front of him, like surgery. "I was hoping you'd talk to them." You didn't have to ask who "they" were. "How could I help them?" you asked, toying with your neglected nails again. "(Y/N)," Levi breathed, "don't think that they don't know what you've done." "I was a kid," you hissed, glaring at him, "and it wasn't easy." You felt tears burning behind your eyes, all the emotions of the day building up inside of you. "I know," Levi said, his voice still curt and rushed, "but I think that's exactly why it would help." You inhaled, pondering him for a moment, then, without another word, you parted ways, you skipping upstairs, and Levi putting on a pair of thick, lead gloves.
    Waiting upstairs was almost worse than being in the dungeon. The noise was sickening: the screaming, the crying, the begging, and worst of all, the sound of the tearing and ripping. You leaned against the door, picking at your now bloody nails. He wanted me to talk to them... Looking around the room, the terrified faces, the green tint of sickness spreading over their cheeks as they listened to the guttural noises of the man being brutally tortured, you knew you had to distract them, even if it killed you inside. "Guys," you said, standing up and dusting off your rear, "come on." "What do you mean, 'come on?'" Sasha asked, yawning as she stretched her arms out. "It's quite simple," you said, heading towards the window that you had blacked out earlier. "It means 'come on.'"
    While on the roof, you felt the energy of your friends improve greatly. The green pallor to their skin was much less pronounced, and they seemed to be enjoying the view. "Thanks," Armin said, still not looking at you as he gazed out at the darkness surrounding him. "No problem," you said, glad that they couldn't see you in the lighting. "I wanted to talk to you guys," you began, feeling your chest ache. "It- it's not easy- for anyone," you said, feeling your throat begin to close. "And, when- um- when I was a kid, that was- that was how my family got by..." you said, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying. I hate this. I hate feeling weak like this. "You don't have to do this," Armin said, finally turning to look at you, or at least you thought he was. "You did what you had to do." You smiled, tears silently slipping down your cheeks as you exhaled at last. "Yeah," you said, digging your nails into the roofing below you. "I'll try to tell myself that."
    If only you could've stayed on the roof all night. Once returning into the collective dismay of the tavern, you had come to realize that Levi and Hange had gotten what they wanted. The prisoner had talked. Or at least he had when he thought that the other one had first. "So where are they?" Mikasa asked immediately, queuing up for a fight. "They're with Rid Reiss, wherever he is," Hange answered. Something about her was bothering you. The way she was looking: she looked nervous, which was a character trait that you'd never use to describe Hange in any given situation. "Hange," you said, moving so that you were standing in front of her, looking up with a fierce look in your eye. "What's going to happen?" She maintained her eye contact with you the whole time as she said, "he's going to be eaten."
    "He's going to be eaten," you repeated, hearing yourself say the foreign words, but they still didn't sink through. "What?" Mikasa exclaimed, her eyes wild with confusion and anxiety. Even Jean looked concerned at the news, his amber eyes widening. "Eren recalled a conversation to me recently," Hange explained, "in which he detailed Ymir and Bertolt talking about those they had eaten to obtain their powers and how they couldn't remember. This leads us to believe that-," "that shifters have to eat someone to gain their powers." "If that's true," Jean practically whispered, "then who did Eren-," "enough," you hissed, halting him. "Worry about it later."
    Lying on the floor that night, the sun rising behind the blackened window, you feigned sleep once again. There's always something getting in the way. There's always something changing. This world is never static, no matter how much I wish it was. You sat up, tired of pretending to be asleep, to find Hange still wide awake next to you. "Erwin appointed me as his successor," she breathed, as though she'd been waiting for you to get up all this time so that she could confide. "Yeah?" you asked, hs yes what her problem was. "Erwin's going to be killed," she said, her eyes tired from lack of sleep. She looked so different without glasses, her face less magnified and extraterrestrial, more human. "You don't know that," you whispered back, though you were sure she was right. "I may as well," she responded, wringing her hands. "And it's only a matter of time before the Survey Corps. is dismantled; they've been working on imprisoning us for weeks, but if something went wrong last night, then they'll have exactly what they wanted as reasoning." "What do you think could have happened last night?" you asked, looking towards the dungeon door as if one of the prisoners would speak through it. "I don't know," she mumbled, "I just have a bad feeling."
    Her bad feeling turned out to be correct. In only a matter of hours since the sun had risen, the news had spread the Survey Corps. was responsible for the murder of Dimo Reeves, who had been found dead in the alley where your group had left him. "What about his son, that Flegel guy?" you asked, scanning the paper that Levi had found. "It doesn't say anything about him," Sasha added, reading over your shoulder. "I'm sure they'll be looking for him," Levi said, "try to make a clean job of it." "So we're all wanted?" Connie asked, pointing to the bottom of the page where all of your pictures were drawn in quick, sloppy pen. "Seems like it," Levi said, not surprised by this undertaking. "Erwin's trial is coming up, and every single one of us has a price on our heads. We're going to have to be more careful following through with getting back Historia and Eren." "You mean we're not going after them now?" Mikasa asked. "We don't even know where they are," Hange reasoned, her eyes looking wet and hurt from the news that her and Levi's promise to Dimo had been broken. "We need more leads," Levi said, looking at Mikasa with sympathy, "but I really am sorry." The room was quiet as the paper was passed from person to person, each one examining it in their own time. Without a word, you stood up and opened the door to the dungeon. "What do you think you're doing?" Levi asked, as you descended down the stairs silently.
    You held one of the dirty tools Levi and Hange had used in front of your face, a pair of dirty kitchen scissors clutched in your right hand. Your reflection was hardly recognizable as you slipped a fistful of your hair into the mouth of the scissors and snapping them shut. You opened and closed them, the snipping of your hair the only sound you could hear. You hacked away at it until it looked reminiscent of a boy's haircut, although messier than any you had seen. With a clatter, you dropped the scissors to the floor, satisfied with your work.
    Nobody said anything as you re-emerged from the dungeon; they just looked in silence. "What do we do now?" Sasha asked, sneaking quick looks at your new appearance. "We get to work," you answered.

Author's Note

This chapter is shorter than usual, and I'm really sorry about that, but I have like no service where I'm at right now, and I'm also literally dead inside hehehe but it's all good. I love you all, and stay safe, as always ❤️❤️