Not The One Who Dies ⇀ Attack on Titan *Original*

Part 22: Goodbyes

Logan sat in the chair that he had been strapped to for hours as different MP's tried to get him to tell them where the rest of the scouts had been. They had done everything under the sun to torture the boy and it had broken him. Tears ran down his face as he sobbed, finally being alone had allowed the emotion to cover him. The boy's body shook as he sobbed, pleading to somehow get out of this.

The door creaked open as the man from the street entered into the room, carrying a tray of food which Logan found ironic. The boy pushed the emotions deep inside of him as he saw the man, quickly calming down from his torment.

"You hungry?" The man asked, disappointment seemingly lacing his voice. Logan scoffed as he sniffled to try and clear his throat.

"What you worried about me being comfortable now? You chopped off all of my fingers one by one and you want me to eat?" Logan asked, his raspy emotionless voice echoed through the room.

"No. Honestly I don't care if you eat or not, you're dead either way." The man said, setting the tray of food on the ground causing Logan to nod, not bothering to lie to himself anymore.

"Yeah, yeah," Logan spoke, tears welling up in his eyes once again as he looked to the ground and imagined never seeing Eren or Levi again. He browsed through his memories like it was a library of good times, of both his old and new families.

"So, I assume you have questions for me? Might as well answer them before I end your life." The man spoke causing Logan to look up at him and fully study his face for the first time, he had long blonde hair with the constant bright yellow eyes that Logan had when rage filled his body.

"You're like me? From the place that my father told me about?" Logan asked causing the man to nod, taking a seat on the other side of the room, looking at the man with anger in his eyes.

"Yeah, home sweet fucking home." The man spoke as he lit a cigarette in his mouth, letting the ash fall from the lips to the ground beneath him as he looked to the boy.

"Was it as nice as he described it? The greenest place in the world with as much food and water to keep the people happy and alive for years?" Logan asked, his voice cracking as he talked about it. The man sitting across the room's eyes twitched as he listened to the words and thought back to his home.

"It was beautiful..." The man said causing Logan to slightly smile at the thought.

"I hope I'll see it soon, I really do," Logan spoke as he leaned back in his chair, thinking of where he would go after he left his body.

"What's your name?" Logan asked, looking at the man whose face was lit by the orange haze of the burning cigarette.

"Arthur, Most people call me Art," Arthur said causing Logan to nod and give him a weak smile.

"Logan, nice to meet you," Logan said, while he wasn't the biggest fan of the other man in the room, it was a break from the forty-eight hours of torture and constant screaming. Plus he didn't want to spend his last hours filled with the hate and rage that most of his recent life had been filled with.

"I know who you are, kid," Arthur said causing Logan to lightly chuckle and nod, finding it funny that his reputation had proceeded him.

"Arthur?" Logan spoke, seemingly leading towards a question.

"Hmm?" Arthur responded as he tapped the cigarette to get the ash from it to fall.

"Did you know my father? You talked about him on the street." Logan asked as he watched the man's face twist in anger.

"Oh yeah, I knew him. He ruined my life. I don't think I've ever been happier than when I found out he died." Arthur sneered as he put out the cigarette and crossed his arms in anger. The two sat in silence for a while as Logan racked his brain about what his father could have done.