Chapter Text
The world is chaos.
It has been for centuries, eons if we count the history that was passed down through stories rather than on paper.
“I need the cauterizer now,” I ordered a frightened medic near me. “We need to seal this.”
“Yes Doctor,” She says before rushing off to find the hot piece of metal. The soldier before me is crying, begging to be put out of his misery. I pressed tightly on his shoulder wound, the bite having caused blood to leak out of him like a faulty faucet. He screams and thrashes, making my hold loosen and tighten, the unsteady flow getting worse.
“Where the fuck is the cauterizer?” I scream, looking for the nurse. She appears and as she holds the poor boy down, I place the burning metals on his wound. He somehow screams louder before passing out from pain. I finish the job and the nurses take him to another bed. Another soldier is placed in front of me.
“Order has been placed to retreat, Doctor!” A nurse calls, others already grabbing medical supplies haphazardly. “Commander Erwin says to fall back.”
“Then fall back!” I yell, rushing the soldier to a cart. “All injured get placed in the cart, any medical supplies too heavy we leave here. Let’s move it!”
Instantly, nurses, able bodied soldiers, everyone is rushing to the carts and horses. I grab soldier after soldier and place them in, almost stacking them on top of each other. The carts shake from Titan fall, but I can’t afford to stop helping the soldiers. I shove one more person, the last one, into the cart and someone takes off. I whistle for my own horse, it obediently cantering to me.
“Back to the Wall!” I shout, raising my hand. A chorus of obedient and terrified soldiers echoes across the grassland and the thundering of hooves take over. Other squads join us, too few coming back with their leaders. I look around to find Erwin, he must be at the front. I pass orders to a nurse, to direct everyone to the wall, and head up towards Erwin and possibly Squad Levi. Less horses, less soldiers. It makes my head spin at the body count this time, but I can’t focus on that. I must relay information to Erwin.
“Commander,” I say, riding alongside him. “Injuries are at an all time high, I’m guessing fifty to seventy five. Only ten lost in the medical zone, thanks to Squad Leader Hange’s idea. What’s the plan?”
“Head back to the wall, back to base,” He says over the shouting and screams of other soldiers. “Medics and injured first in the gate and rush to the base. Soldiers with wounds will be sent forward with you.”
“Yes, Commander,” I say, and whip the reins on my horse. I fall back to guide the rest of my medical staff to the front, their relief for being first evident on their faces. The wall is in sight and approaching fast, it makes everyone want to go faster. I whip my reins once more, my horse going so fast it feels like I’m flying.
“Bodt Medics!” I yell. “Head to base as soon as you get in. I want survivors, not more bodies!”
A chorus of affirmatives makes me continue further ahead. I want to prep the medical station while we have time, I left no staff at the base. We just have to work with what we’ve got, and I’ll make it easier on my nurses if I have to leave them. I’ve done it before and they’ve been fine. They have to be fine.
The ward was full and still more wounded came. It trickled in slowly before a boom of more hurt soldiers flooded the gates. I try to tend to the harsher wounds, my staff having trained well enough to work with broken bones and blood loss. Donations of blood have been lacking, so everything is used sparingly. The soldier I’m working on currently is knocked out from pain. The gash in his shoulder was on the brink of being infected, but he came with enough time to fix that. I place an antiseptic on it, his arm only twitching slightly. Cleaning wounds is easy, but I don’t want the remnants of shattered bone or pebbles to be stuck in him.
“Bed rest and extraction in a half hour,” I ordered a nurse to write down the information. “Have two nurses on night duty tonight, it’s going to be a long one.”
“Yes Doctor.”
I head out the door of the medical ward, my hands dropped at my side and shaking. I can usually hold out for longer, but this was too much. This expedition was expected to get new intel on the Titans, as always, but this was more of a massacre than anything. I head to my office, shedding my apron and gloves. My mask has already slid down my face and around my neck. My hands won’t stop shaking. Valerian and Chamomile tea will help.
“Alonza, wait up!” I hear a voice call out . I look behind me, not stopping. Hange comes sprinting, her voice already shot from shouting orders all day. She catches up and walks through my office door before I can stop her or ask her why. She tends to do that with officers she’s acquainted with, much to my and my colleagues' chagrin.
“Walls, you walk fast,” She gasps, sitting in the chair across from my desk. “You’d think you and Shorty would go slow, with your little legs and all.”
“Funny quip, Hange,” I say tiredly, moving the papers placed on my desk earlier in the day. Death certificates, supply detail, supply order, notes. “What’s the news?”
“Oh, right,” She pats her waist and butt, looking for something.
I go to the corner of my office where a desk with plants, dead and dry, is placed. With her voice, she’s not going to be talking for too much longer. I grab a few sprigs of fresh mint and a hunk of ginger. My mortar and pestle was cleaned before I left, so I swiftly added the two before crushing them into a paste. A dollop of honey makes it taste a little bit better and I won’t get as many complaints from the woman.
“Ah, here,” She mumbles, a rustle of paper making my ears twitch. I place the crushed ingredients into a cup and start my own blend of chamomile and valerian. “Meeting information for tonight as well as new tasks for tomorrow. It’s mandatory.”
“As is every meeting after an Expedition, nothing new,” I say exasperatedly. “You didn’t have to come running.”
“I just had to see my favorite little doctor,” She cooes, coming up behind me, placing her arms around my shoulders. “Who else would help me so sweetly?”
“Fuck off,” I mumble, ducking underneath her arms. I hold out the mixture in the cup, which makes her grimace. “Add hot water and chew until flavorless. The oils will help your throat.”
“You’re a Godsend, Alonza,” She says. “Even if this will literally make me vomit.”
“It won’t.”
“Sure.”
“It’s literally a cough medicine, take it or suffer.”
She pouts but goes to leave.
“Do you want me to bring another cup?”
“Please,” I sigh, heading over to my desk. “I appreciate it.”
The door closes lightly and I start in on paperwork. I want to get a majority of it done before my hands give out and before the meeting with the Commander and the rest of the officers. I hate how they tremor unless under pressure, but what can be done? The nerves are shot and I’m too tired and busy to find a way to properly help them. I slide the pen across the paper, cursive being easier and less wobbly than print. Erwin has never minded the occasional spots and scribbles, unlike his other officers. Hange’s handwriting is chicken scratch, Moblit is perfect military, Levi’s is a delicate cursive, but woven with curse words. It’s a wonder how none of us, besides Moblit, haven’t gotten reprimanded by the higher ups, but I’m relieved no one has yelled at us yet. My temper might flare up as it does in high stress situations.
Three death certificates filled out, a need for more anesthetics, and more gauze has been ordered. The nurses filled out each report before retiring for the next round of staying up far too late. I light the oil lamp on my desk, opening the window to get the disgusting smell out of my office. My nose has only gotten more sensitive as I learn about more medicinal herbs we’ve started to abandon and the harsh chemicals we’ve started using. Hange was supposed to bring me hot water a while ago, and my hands have only gotten worse. I sigh through my nose and turn down the oil lamp before getting up from my desk. I might as well get the tea and go to Erwin’s early. I grab my paperwork to turn in and the little bag of chamomile and veralian. A cheesecloth that I typically use is already downstairs. The hallways are dark and creaky, the only light coming from other fellow officer’s rooms and one every twenty feet. I trace one of my hands along the wall as I make my way to the mess hall, the lights much brighter in there. Fortunately, no cadets are in sight. I hate when I have to interact with people that I know I’ll either see die or in pain. It’s not worth it.
I slip through to the kitchen, a pot already placed on the stove, abandoned most likely Hange. I clucked my tongue in annoyance before starting the stove up. The match helps light the gas instantly, the water beginning to heat up. The wait is calming, something that I haven’t felt in a very long while. I wish all tea was this easy to relax to.
“What are you doing?”
My eyes, which I didn’t realize were closed, snapped open. I turn to the entrance of the kitchen, placing my hands behind my back. I don’t need them to see my shakiness. I roll my eyes at the person standing there; Levi Ackermann.
“What does it look like, Captain?” I mumble, turning to fetch two cups and my cheese cloth. Levi has his own strainer, which he pulls out of another cupboard. He barely is able to reach it, which makes me smile. I can’t reach much farther than him, but it’s still amusing.
“Watch it, Doctor,” He grumbles. “Your snark isn’t needed today, or any day for the matter.”
“Whatever Captain,” I groan out. I place the mixture into the cheesecloth, tying it tight with a leather cord. “I’m too tired to fight today. You should be, too. Stop drinking the black tea at night.”
“It improves heart and gut health,” He parrots, words I said at some point to him that he stuck with.
“The caffeine stunts your growth,” I remind. He gives me a sour look, but I ignore it and instead take the whistling pot with both hands wrapped in a rag. The shakes, barely, the tension in my hands making it easier to pour. I spill a little out of the cup, it splashes on to my legs, making me wince. I bite my lip and continue pouring the water out. I place it back down and start to move out of Levi’s way.
“I could have done that for you,” He says, grabbing the pot with one hand and expertly pouring over his loose leaf black tea. The smells mingle, the overwhelming sweetness and floral notes making my nose twitch. “You’re like a grandmother, can’t hold shit.”
“I’m too tired to argue,” I say dimly. “Let’s just go to the meeting.”
“How many injured?”
“Too many. Not enough saved.”
We walk side by side, a common occurrence. I tighten my hold on my tea as we head up to Erwin’s office, the papers in my hands trembling. Levi doesn’t mention anything, quietly blowing on the top of his cup before taking sips. The commander’s office isn’t too far up, only two flights of stairs, but for some reason, I don’t want to walk up today. I don’t want to give him the numbers, the stats and health reports that weigh heavy in my hand.
“Squad Leader Hange.”
“Present.”
“Squad Leader Miche.”
“Present.”
“Squad Vice Captain Moblit.”
“Present.”
“Captain Levi.”
“Can we get on with this?”
“Medic Head Doctor Alonza.”
“Here.”
Erwin checks his paper for any more people who need to be here. Already this meeting has become tedious and it’s about to become harrowing. The first order of business is how many hits each individual squad has taken, who has died and who is in recovery.
“While this Expedition was disappointing in exploring,” Hange tries to say, trying so hard to find a silver lining in this dark storm cloud. “The use of cauterizing tools have saved at least an extra fifteen percent of lives. Right, Alonza?”
“Cauterization was effective, yes,” I say, my voice sounding bored even to my ears. “But the capability to close the wound before a soldier goes into shock isn’t determined by percentages at this moment. If they don’t feel the pain, then it would be a better chance of them living, but anesthetics are expensive and knocking people out is frowned upon.”
No one laughed at the morbid joke, which was expected. Erwin continues on with the statistics of the expedition, pausing only occasionally to see his notes and forms handed in by each squad leader and captain.
“Alonza,” He says, dragging me out of my stupor. I look over at him; he looks as if nothing bad has happened to him, ever. His hair is still sleek across his head, his uniform is straightened, and his eyes hold nothing but authority. “What are the new numbers of casualties since arriving at base?”
“Ten in the tent, forty in the medic,” I say quietly. “All documents and health records have been recorded, death certificates are being signed. Here are a few done today.”
I hand the certificates to him, my hands still shaking. I take a sip of my tea and go back to staring off into the distance. The rest of the meeting is typically only for the squad leaders and Erwin to catch up. I’m only here to deliver the news like Death’s shitty messenger. I look out the window; cadets usually fill the place with training and talking, but it’s dark and the few lanterns strung about show that it’s empty. I take another sip of my tea, the valerian leaves making it smell something awful.
“Oi, Bodt,” Levi calls, making me look over to him. He stands by himself, with his little black tea, the room void of others. “Bed time. Now.”
“When did,” I trail off, my eyes slowly blinking.
“When you decided to ignore Hange’s rambles,” He grumbles. He gestures for me to follow him out. I stand up, my ankles full of pins and needles, and follow him out into the darker hallway. Somehow it’s worse than the darkness outside. “The meeting ended with Erwin reminding us all to write to the families who lost someone.”
“Right.”
“Have you been?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because families don’t understand that people die and doctors can’t always save them,” I mumbled, stopping at my office door. “It’s not my fault, but sometimes they don’t see it that way.”
He pauses with me. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, the cold air making my whole body shiver rather than just my hands. His gray eyes burrow into me, but I can’t look at him.
“Report to me tomorrow, I need my scouts to have a physical,” He says gruffly, turning away from me. “One of my brats must be coming down with something, they look like shit.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I slide into my office, leaning against the door. Somehow I feel even more exhausted than when coming back from the expedition. My hands have calmed down some, but I still chew the chamomile petals and valerian root, the taste being too earthy for me. I spit it out my window before retiring to my room, connected to my office. The lavender picked and dried before the expedition is strong in my room, the attempt at leeching insomnia out of me is laughable. Nightmares are more common than a good night’s sleep. I change quickly, donning on a clean white shirt and black cotton pants, sliding into lavender scented sheets and star anise sprinkled in my pillowcase. Other fellow officers may think I’m crazy, a witch if anything, but I don’t care; it’s like we forgot what first started to help doctors and patients and while there are new and improved ways to help the world, I continue with the roots. Plants can help, even for small relief.
I curl in tightly, releasing the tension in my jaw, stopping the grinding of my teeth. I take a deep breath of the sweet smelling herbs and feel my eyes become heavy with sleep. At least I can try once more for an hour or so of sleep.