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I made sure Frederick had fresh water and rubbed behind his ears before closing the stable door. Finally done grooming them. Now just to sweep up the hay and dirt. Maybe polish the worse-off saddles. Birds chirped as they settled into their nests in the high rafters of the stables, the dying sunlight breaking through the boards of the wall. I loved the stables, mostly because I was good at taking care of the horses and it was fun to be good at something. Selfish, I know. The cold pierced through my cloak and I shivered, pulling it closer around me. The dinner bell rang just as I began sweeping, but I wouldn't be able to eat until I was done.

"Frederick, I'm sorry you got fed last today." Frederick never replies. Probably because I never really specify that I'm talking to him. But the only reason I say anything at all is because silence hurts more than words do. "I knew you could man-up and let the other, more tired and stressed-out horses go first. Real mature of you. Maybe they're serving carrots tonight, and I'll sneak you some later."

"Or you could come get one for him now." I looked up at the tall doorway at the shadowy figure of Mark, my best friend. He walked in and sat on the single chair by Frederick's stall, short black hair and brown eyes hidden in the dim candlelight. "You want to join me now, finish this later?"

I shook my head and swept the pile out the door into the grass. It smelled like rain. Perfect. "Nah, I have to get this done," I answered softly, despite my best efforts to hide my tiredness. "How is your arm?"

He sighed, but went along with the change in subject. "Fine. Almost feels normal, actually. I can't believe all I got was a sprain, thought. I have you to thank."

"The whole team helped." I put the broom away and grabbed the polish and rag. "Not just me. I barely did anything. You're lucky you didn't become titan food."

He sat there with me for a moment, looking out into the forbodingly dark sky as I polished the saddle on my knee. These silences are what trap me. Thoughts of the fallen members of the Corps, their bodies strewn in bits and pieces, illuminated my mind. Today had been yet another failure- this time unrelated to Eren. But it still stung, right where it always did.

Mark left without a word. I polished saddle after saddle, removing the blood and sweat from today's outing. Red stains covered my hands and arms by the time I was done, late into the night. The horses were calm, the rain pelted the stable roof, the candle burned almost completely out before I decided things were clean and orderly enough.

Nuzzling Frederick goodbye before I left, I blew the candle out and stepped into the solemnly welcoming rain and fog. Even through the thickening grey, I knew exactly in which direction to go. As I walked cautiously through the mud, the blood on my hands felt heavier, more attached to me. Burning into my skin. Finally the tree loomed into view, tall and hauntingly melancholic. Stepping beneath the thick limbs blocked most of the rain out, so I sat down against the trunk and took a book from its place within the waistband of my pants, a charcoal stick tucked snugly between the pages. I opened to the last entry. Two days ago, after the last scouting party. Four names.

I breathed the dense air deeply, remembering who these names belonged to. I reached down to unclasp my metal leg from my knee, allowing the skin to air out. Yeah, it isn't safe to let your guard down, especially at night in the rain when you can't see much through the weather. But my leg ached to relax. So I lay it in the grass, gripped my pencil, and began to write. First the date. Then two names- Thomas Lowood and Alfred Johnson. Finally, two traits each, one I hated and one I enjoyed.

Thunder rolled in the distance, like yearning groans, mourning for something lost. The blood staining my skin had washed away. Moments passed as I absorbed the words fully, before flipping to the very first page, empty except for a single short paragraph: "Grief is felt because a person no longer exists," I whispered inaudibly into the dark. "Grieving is remembering that he once did."

I don't know how long I sat against that tree, staring at those words. But it felt like millenia had passed before I could return it to my side, reattach my hunk of metal that replaced my leg, and begin walking to the kitchens. My appetite had, as usual, vanished. But Frederick was expecting carrots.

I slipped in through the back door, which entered into the large, spacious pantry. The location of the carrots was by now firmly planted deep within my memory. I grabbed enough for about one per horse (I always felt bad just giving them to Frederick, so all the horses got a 2 a.m. snack) and slipped back out into the rain. Five minutes later, all horses have been fed their respective carrots, and I am off to my room.

In the commons room, most of the torches are out but a few to illuminate just enough. Even so, I could barely see after shutting the door. The table should be over there somewhere...

"Dammit!" I cringed at the throbbing pain in my toe. The table was closer than I thought. After applying pressure to it and falling over from the pain, I decided that it was broken. And my room just has to be one of the last ones down the hallway.

"Oi, shitty brat."

I froze from trying to get up, all my attention towards the voice coming from where the couches should be, to my right. Captain Levi sometimes caught me coming in late at night - or most often, early in the morning. I didn't know why, what he wanted, but it was happening more and more frequently.

"Answer me."

I had tensed so much with fear/surprise that I forgot to answer. "Sorry, Captain," I whispered into the darkness. A gleaming pair of pale eyes reflected the scant torchlight, calm and uncaring. Eyes I knew well, both in the dark and during the day.

He stood silently, walking with ease past the table I'd tripped over until he towered over me. "What the hell are you doing out so late?" he grumbled at me, lifting me up by one arm. I made sure my pained toe didn't make me wince.

Same question every time. Same answer. "Working."

He shoved me ahead of him, in the direction of my room. It felt rough, the unkind touch bruising my arm relentlessly. But I knew- we both knew, that the foundations of the gesture were thoughtful. Otherwise I'd have broken a lot more than my toe trying to get to bed maneuvering through these hallways.

He stopped pushing me once we reached my oakwood door, slightly isolated from the others. I slept closer to Hanji because I did quite a lot of work for her as well as Levi. Even after I'd entered my room, Levi remained in the doorway, his eyes boring through me as I turned to face him, eyes, downcast.

"You better get your ass to bed." I glanced up at his stern, annoyed face timidly. He hardly ever blinks. I wonder if it hurts, not to blink. The whole point of blinking is removing dust from the eyes. Are his eyes covered in dust? Can't he feel it?

"Are you fucking listening to me?" His harsh voice jolted me back to the conversation. Um... no, I hadn't been listening... He read my face and sighed dramatically, like repeating himself was a crime. "If I find out tomorrow that one of my men can't keep up his work because he wanted a late night up, then he's gonna be taught a lesson the hard way."

I nodded and saluted. Same empty threats. This is just a repeat of so many previous nights, all ending the same way. He squinted at me before saying, "And clean yourself the fuck up, you have mud all over you," and promptly walking back down the hall, to his own quarters.

I shut my door and dazedly staggered to the bathroom to wrap my toe, unsure why tonight felt different.