Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Arc 1:
For Family

The scenery from Wall Sina to Wall Rose was jarring. Desperately searching the dirt-paved streets, it could only be described as pandemonium. The common folk easily parted for her when they saw the wings on her back and the gear strapped to her sides, but it didn’t change the hopelessness in their gazes. Pandora barely cast her eyes on them, but when she did, she only saw tears. Tears of sorrow, tears of mourning, tears of anguish mixed with blood and dirt. It only made the desperation to find her family grow stronger. 

They were all she had left in this cruel world. 

Strangely, her thoughts didn’t immediately go to their dead bodies. Not yet.

Instead, her mind brought her to the night they celebrated the newest member of their family. No, it was not a child, she already had one and she was perfect. No, they were welcoming a woman by the name of Danica Isa to House Lovof. A well-renowned Doctor with her own practice and employees, she had read in an ad in the paper that the distant branch of the Lovof family was looking for a live-in doctor. The ad had promised them living quarters, proper medical supplies per request of the hired doctor, daily meals, and more than enough funding to boost any humble practice they were currently working for. Pandora and her husband, Viktor Lovof, interviewed a slew of doctors before settling on the lovely Miss. Isa. Neither cared that she was a recent divorcee, nor that her former husband, who was coincidentally also a doctor, had done a good deal attempting to slander her name in front of them before her interview. 

Pandora knew that both herself and her husband carried a good head and a clear conscience on their shoulders. And being married for ten years with a bright-eyed child of their own, they could practically agree without opening their mouths. The minute Danica spoke, they knew that she was very much the professional woman her resume presented. That even though she was as demure as every woman in Wall Sina, she had heart, something that the previous doctors, her husband included, seemed to lack. Not to mention, Danica quickly took to their daughter when she inadvertently wandered into the waiting room asking if they were done because she was getting sick of having to listen to “all of these fake doctors pretending to be doctors!”

Danica moved in a few days later and that night, the doctor quickly discovered that the Lovof’s were unlike any of her patients. For one, they all sat together in one room at one table, and two, they didn’t have any servants. All the food was cooked by Pandora’s beloved sister Eva Stein-Reiss, the table was set up with the combined efforts of Viktor and Hedone, and Pandora herself was nothing but a gracious host, welcoming Danica with a soft smile and a warm voice. Candles were lit, the food was delicious, and the conversations were simultaneously riveting, hilarious, and freeing. Their daughter was happy to have a new friendly face in the house. Viktor’s charisma and honey-laced words easily got Danica to open up. Meanwhile, she and Eva only had a sip of the wine they keep locked away and they were already flushed and giggling like friends who had known each other for years. 

And Pandora was at the center of it all, drinking in the golden essence, committing it to memory. It was a scene that belonged in a dream.

However, this wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare turned reality. Hopelessness lingered in the smog. Even the stars have disappeared as if the celestials saw the great calamity and turned off their lanterns as a tribute to the fallen.

No, not fallen.

Dead.

Those weren’t soldiers who laid down their lives for some noble cause. Even though some mangled bodies bore wilted roses, dismembered wings, and dying unicorns across their shoulders and backs. The rest were just villagers. Farmers, millers, merchants, mothers, fathers, and children going about their day. As if any one of them could have predicted what happened to Wall Maria.

The outermost Wall: where the common folk prospered. Where the Scouts had just ridden past in a macabre promenade; another failure under their battered defeated Commander. Pandora didn’t take part in that particular expedition. She had been called upon by her uncle to Wall Sina to settle a personal matter. Nothing that she hadn’t heard before from the old buffoon, they might be related through one man, but that didn’t mean they would ever get along. Especially after his passing. Neither of them could’ve predicted a man bursting through their doors in hysterics, crying that the Wall had been broken through and that the King was an utter failure for allowing it to happen. 

Pandora didn’t hesitate to rush back onto her horse and make way for Wall Rose, personal matter be damned.

Wall Rose, now Wall Rose was the outermost Wall. Wall Rose, where her family had decided to take an impromptu trip to Scout Headquarters. Viktor said he wanted to see his wife and sister-in-law working hard and see the Scouts' ODM gear for himself. But Pandora knew that he also needed an easy distraction for what was ahead as the only heir to the Lovof Company and the dirty money-grubbers who wanted nothing more than to dig their hungry claws into him. Eva thought the visit was a wonderful idea, her bright, beautiful disposition unfettered by the brutality of her job as a fellow Scout. And, of course, she could never say no to spending the day with her beau of a Section Commander. The two even managed to convince their friendly but aloof live-in doctor to come along, saying she was cooped up in her medical office for so long that she may as well be living in it. Reluctant, but also wanting some fresh air, Danica had rolled her eyes and agreed. She set aside her supplies to get ready, rolling her eyes at their persistence but couldn’t hide the fond smirk on her rouged lips.

And the one most excited about their little trip; was her daughter. Little Hedone, the one who wanted to see her mother soaring through the air boundless and free, and who was so disheartened to see her mother being sent away because of an old, wrinkled raisin of a man. Those were her words and they were the first thing that appeared in Pandora’s mind. And then like a gush of river water exploding in a landmine, memories of all of them came to her at once. Her family. Hedone’s adoration, Eva’s smile, Danica’s sass, Viktor’s love.

She needed to find them.

Adrenaline and fear gripped her chest. Her heart pounded in tandem with the gallops of Darna, both of their long, dark hair whipping in the wind like flags of death. Riding to Wall Sina, there was nothing at all. No blood, no tears, no dirt being swept up because it was all buried underneath polished cobblestones. As if covering up rotten wood with a gilded polish made it any less rotten. It was far too late for them to be talking late night walks, playing cards in the homes of people they barely tolerate, or visiting bars or pubs, getting drunk and entertaining their ladies of the night. They were all cooped up in their tall, fancy, noble houses wondering how their cut of freshly cooked meat would be presented or what the social environment would be like in the next two or three days. There was no sorrow, no mourning, no anguish.

Riding past an overcrowded town square, she saw yet another procession of wounded soldiers carrying broken lives on their shoulders. Garrison and Scout troops were trying to take care of as many as they could but there were only so many of them; for every soldier that was in critical condition there were five to ten villagers that were the same and the number kept growing. And these were just the ones who escaped Shinganshina. They were still others pouring in from the rest of Maria’s cities. Pandora wasn’t a member of the Church but she silently begged Rose to remain steadfast despite her sisters’ failure: to please protect those who made it safely through and continue to stand strong. The Titans breaking through Wall Maria was already bad enough, but taking down Wall Rose as well would spell the end of humanity.

Pandora didn’t realize she was calling out her daughter’s name until she heard someone calling out for her,

“Oi!”

Tugging at Darna’s reins, Pandora came to a violent halt, nearly thrown off her horse from the sudden shift. She turned her head as best she could on her saddle. Left and right, front and back, she searched for whoever she. No one in the crowd returned her frantic stare, all of them too occupied in their sorrows.

She hoped it wasn’t her imagination that manifested that voice, it sounded like it belonged in a dream. A dream engulfed in a nightmare. A balm to this torturous existence.

“Oi, Lovof!”

There it was again. More dream-like than before, so soft it was nearly lost in the conundrum. Yet so deep and clear like its source was something so familiar to her. Left and right, front and back once more. It was so much to grasp at once. Everyone scattering at the sight of a horse loudly making her presence known, cursing loudly at the military for failing them, relatives screaming the names of people they might never see again, endless streams of tears pouring from eyes that have seen hell itself. So many people yet Pandora couldn’t spare them a second glance because they weren’t who she was looking for. Left and right, front and back. Was that just dust blurring her vision or was it also the tears that threatened to fall?

Her mind was spiraling, she had opened the box and the evils spilled out, taking over every nerve in her body. She was suffocating. Her ears were full of cotton, her nose only inhaling the sickening smell of pouring blood, her sight a blur, her mouth cemented shut. Her mind conjured images of her failures. Eva burning in a titans stomach acid, Viktor murdered and stripped of his fine clothing, Danica lying on the street bleeding out, and Hedone, Hedone trampled by thousands selfishly searching for more time on this mortal plane. Not a single one of them realized, or even cared, that they had murdered a child whose mother was still out there, searching for her. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, yet it sounded a thousand miles away. 

What if she had imagined that voice? What was it going to tell her? That she had failed? That she was a failure because she didn’t do the one thing life told her to do? That it wasn’t the first time it happened and it wouldn’t be the last?

No, no, no, she can’t think like that. But… there was always the possibility. Did she not consider the Wall could fall before she went on that trip to settle things with her uncle? Did she not bother to hug her sister and dear friend tighter, coddle her disheartened daughter even more, and passionately kiss her husband? Were they all watching over her in the afterlife? Were disappointed in her for choosing someone like her uncle over her own family in their final moments? 

Pandora’s head fell into her hands, a silent wail nearly escaping her stuttering lips. 

How could she? How could she? How could she? How could she? How could she? How could she? How could—

“PANDORA!”

“Mama!”

Two voices broke through the fog. It was the voice from her dreams again, except it came from the mouth of a very real person… and there was someone else with him. Pandora snapped upwards, her eyes straight ahead. Like seeing the world for the first time after being submerged in a lake, her vision cleared. And right there, in the center of it all, she saw them. The beacon in the dark: a soldier. A Scout, the familiar blue and white wings on his shoulders, staring right at her, and who had tucked herself close to his side, almost burying her face into his ribcage, Pandora’s breath hitched,

“Hedone,”

She dismounted and ran towards her daughter as if the titans were chasing her instead, feet barely skimming the pebbles. Her daughter broke away from the soldier the same way, moving as fast as her little feet could go, tears were freely falling down her cheeks. Mother spread her arms wide and embraced her daughter that barreled into her arms so hard they both nearly tumbled. Pandora couldn’t stop herself from smothering Hedone’s face with frantic kisses, her long fingers running down her small back in familiar, comforting strokes. Hedone pressed her face into her neck to further bury in her warmth,  

They separated briefly, to simply stare at each other, before quickly embracing once more. Pandora squeezed her daughter a little harder, reassuring herself that she wasn’t dead and reassuring her daughter that she was also alive and came back for her and her family. Nothing else mattered in their little bubble of safety. 

Pandora rested her chin on her daughter's shoulder, turning to give the side of her head another kiss. She briefly looked up and noticed that the soldier hadn’t left them to go help the other lost civilians. Instead, he moved closer to them, directing people with a simple jerk of his head or a point of his finger. When an obese, sweaty man tried to grab his coat and demand answers for the military’s failure, he knocked the fat pig flat on his butt. Adding in a surly voice that he was going to get his uniform dirty, before continuing his watch over them. A sharp-eyed hawk protecting its nest.

Giving her daughter one last honest squeeze, Pandora pulled back again. This time to get a better look at her. There was no blood, no cuts or bruises either, thank the Walls. Her hair, which had been intricately braided with tiny daises before they left their house, was a mess. But that was a given, Pandora assumed her hair was also a mess from riding at such unforgivable speeds. While they were not identical, she could see some of the features in her daughter reflected at her; particularly the curve of their eyes, the slope of their noses, the fat of their cheeks, and the texture of their hair. Tanned skin had long turned red and blotchy from their tears, long lashes wet from the same thing, and full lips still trembling with lingering fear. However, staring so intensely at her daughter while searching for injuries, she was reminded of the other person responsible for her existence.

Pandora’s heart fell out of her stomach and the deep recesses of her mind started to spiral once again. But her daughter was right in front of her, she couldn’t afford to traverse that path in front of her. Hedone needed her mother to be strong in the face of crisis.

“Sampaguita, where is your father? And your aunties?” Her voice dropped to a warm, but raspy whisper, careful not to startle her daughter. She had already witnessed enough, Pandora couldn’t bear for her little sampaguita to see any more atrocities.

Hedone’s eyes turned shiny again, averting her gaze. She hiccuped, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Noises that resembled words loosely spilled from her lips, her need to get words out conflicted with the overwhelming emotions that anyone her age and even older would understand. Pandora understood that more than anyone. So, she continued to rub her daughter’s back, the constant rhythm acting as a steady rock for her heart to stand on and slowly match. 

“Shhhh, shhhh,” she whispered, embracing Hedone again, “I know, I know, sampaguita. Take your time.”

Hedone inhaled one last time, this one more steady that the ones before. “P-Papa,” She whimpered, rubbing her eyes again. Pandora pulled away and cradled her daughter’s face in her hands, wiping away the rest of her tears. The ten-year-old squeezed her eyes shut before slowly opening them. Her daughter's eyes were so much like her own: a muted blue as if a higher power had picked up two lakes on a rainy day and decided that it was a suitable shade. “Papa was with me a second ago… I-I think we got separated when we went looking for Ti—Auntie Eva and Auntie Danica…”

She canted her head to the soldier still standing behind them, a slight sluggishness to the movement, “I-I think he saw Papa earlier and was going to tell me… But then we found you… you can ask him…” There was also a sense of lethargy in her voice, Pandora didn’t have to think twice to know what it was. The exhaustion on her face couldn’t be faked. Hedone found the warmth of her mother's embrace a balm for everything she witnessed, and she was still very much a child. She needed to rest if only to temporarily forget the horrors of the world.

With one last kiss on her forehead, Pandora picked her daughter up with ease, her daughter tucking herself into her neck again, “Rest, sampaguita.” 

Darna didn’t think twice about accepting the tired ten-year-old steadying herself on her saddle. Pandora brushed her fingers against the soft fibers of her mane before grabbing her reins and slowly pulling her forward. 

Pandora knew this man’s name, however, she also knew that they weren’t close. They’ve only seen each other a handful of times at Headquarters, rarely exchanging words. So she instead called him by his rank,

“Cadet…” The soldier had already turned around when he heard Darna approaching. Already aware of their height difference, he tilted his head up to stare at her directly. Pandora suddenly and immediately found herself arrested by his sharp gaze, piercing through the dark curtain of his hair, her breath momentarily escaping her. 

“Are you just going to catch flies in your mouth all night or are you going to say something worthwhile?”

Pandora snapped out of her daze, quickly recovering with a delicate shake of her head. She didn’t have time to think about his eyes at a time like this. How inappropriate of a woman of her nature. She can’t be vulnerable. When her lips parted again, she hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she thought she did, “Thank you, for keeping an eye on my daughter. I owe you a great debt.”

She held her head high, in an attempt at keeping her composure. The soldier’s neutral expression was a deep contrast to the mild panic that still lingered around them. He suddenly turned his gaze from her to Hedone, who had already made herself comfortable resting against the nape of Darna, her eyes unfocused as she slowly accepted her inevitable slumber. Pandora noticed that the soldier's gaze softened while looking at her daughter and didn’t realize that her heartbeat thumped a little bit faster. He must’ve truly dedicated himself to protecting her if he was already so deeply attached, she’ll make sure to inform her husband about this. 

“And she says you know where Viktor is,” His gaze suddenly returned to her and his eyes hardened back to their nature of sharp steel. Pandora looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her an answer. If he had one at all. Hedone wouldn’t lie to her, the cadet must’ve at least seen him somewhere. Just the smallest nugget of information for her to cling onto.

“If you know anything about his whereabouts, please, tell me—”

“Your husband,” He said, practically growling it out through gritted teeth. Pandora flushed at his annoyance. She’ll have to apologize for taking up his time in addition to repaying him. He seemed to realize how aggressive he sounded, inhaling deeply so he can start again, “I last saw him leading a procession of survivors to a camp near another one of those churches. It was like he hypnotized the crowd into following him. Hard to recognize him without that fancy-ass coat of his though.”

That was most definitely her husband, charismatic enough that if he told someone to jump they wouldn’t hesitate to ask how high, “Viktor was always willing to help others. Giving away his jacket to those who needed it more is not outside his comfort zone.”

Unlike his father, was left unspoken between them.

The soldier turned his back to her, “Just find him so I won’t have to deal with you again.”

With that, he shot off with his gear, shrouding hers in mist, and the Wings of Freedom rippling on his back. He moved with it like it was second nature, as if any moment those azure and pearl feathers would become real and tangible. He was meant to leave her completely in the dust. However, not before coming to a stop on a rooftop and sparing her one last glance over his shoulder. Raven strands blew gently with the gusts of his jumps, revealing his striking eyes to her once again. And once again, Pandora’s lips parted in surprise. Something passed between them, both familiar and unfamiliar. Neither knew which would back away first, staring into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. Not breaking his gaze, Pandora took yet another deep inhale and inclined her head. One last act of gratitude for the cadet to accept.

He only jerked his head upward, if only to mock her previous mannerisms, and shot off into the distance. Pandora tried to ignore the stab of embarrassment in her chest. Cheeks heated, she gripped Dana’s reins tightly. As if to force the feeling to leak into her hand so she could crush it. Hedone hadn’t stirred at all during their interaction. Softly snoring into the mare’s mane, the only indication of her previous state was the redness in her puffy cheeks. Yet her grip on the coarse umber strands turned her hands white, matching the wraps around her knuckles.

Pandora blinked twice. What

She brought herself closer to inspect, another sharp inhale escaping her. There weren’t any cuts on her daughter. She couldn’t be wrong. But right there in front of her, both of her daughters' hands were wrapped in clean bandages. The fact that they were in such pristine condition told her that they had to be replaced at some point. How could she have missed this? Hedone had reciprocated her tight embrace, she would’ve felt the fabric stretched around her palms.

Wait, she mentally reprimanded herself. Hedone is already safe. She’s alive. That’s more than enough for her. Now, she had to find her husband. And after that, her sister and their doctor. Or find her sister and their doctor on the way to finding her husband. Whichever came first, she’ll readily accept. 

Gently grasping Darna’s reins, Pandora pushed through the crowded streets. They had just moved into the outskirts of the makeshift refugee camps, and most of the noise had settled for now. Darna herself had settled down as well, only shuffling her hooves and swaying idly. Every once in a while she would hear her mare snuffle, her nostrils not used to being surrounded by this many sweat-stained, dirt-coated men and women, much more used to the fresh, crisp air outside the Walls. 

A space that had drastically shrunk in the span of one night. 100 kilometers between two fifty meters of stone, 100 kilometers of forests, farmlands, and villages, lost to humanity.

When Pandora peered up, a black void stared back at her. There wouldn’t be light for a long time, the sun had just faded into the horizon when that man burst through the doors of her home. He was a messenger, she supposed, a messenger relaying death’s call. She remembered how exhausted he looked, eyes pleading for it to just be another nightmare, the light slowly being seeped from them and replaced by the grim acceptance that he would be just another sob story in a string of thousands that began with the loss of their families to the Titans.

Shadows moved sluggishly, trailing behind the defeated thousands, huddling impossibly close as there wasn’t enough firewood available for everyone to use and not even enough rations to feed the hungry, homeless, and possibly parent-less children. And handheld torches were of no use as the military needed them to keep regular patrols and keep their eyes sharp. Most had settled for sharing their body heat and splitting their stale rations, throwing judgment and pride aside for just a few more hours of false security. The threat of Wall Rose’s gates also being demolished still loomed over everyone, looking over their tense shoulders, hands gripping each other tightly, the need to run never fleeing their minds. They wanted to believe that the Walls were made to protect them, that they still could protect them. It took a split second for Wall Maria to fall victim to the Titans, and from what she’s been overhearing as she further traversed the crowded pathways, they were all too eager to state their endless hunger for human flesh once their stone barriers fell.

The deeper into the camps they went, the more crowded the streets got. She saw more soldiers stationed, sharing stories, grieving companions that they were fond of or even those they despised, downing alcohol to numb the feelings of loss, or wanting to just simply forget what they saw. Something in Pandora pulled her to comfort everyone, at least rub their shoulders the same way she rubbed Hedone’s back. Something to alleviate the pain.

Knowing that her presence would be highly unwelcome, she turned her back and instead stroked her daughters' bandages again, unknowingly halting her steady pace in front of a large tent. One of the kids noticed this and went inside, supposedly going to tell one of the Scouts stationed inside that there was another one of their own awaiting orders and taking care of her daughter. Hedone’s grip on Darna had loosened in her sleep, allowing her mother to get a closer look at them. The fact that they were in such pristine condition told her that they were recently replaced. And they were wrapped so neatly and carefully, that the cadet knew what they were doing. Not that she had any doubts. But how could she have missed this? Hedone had reciprocated her tight embrace, she would’ve felt the fabric stretched around her palms.

What happened to Hedone while she was meeting with her uncle? Why didn’t she tell her? Better yet: why didn’t that cadet tell her? Did he make any attempt to tell her while she thanked him for keeping her safe and tending to her wounds and she had just missed it? Upon closer inspection, the bandages wrapped around her entire palm and even more, covering her delicate knuckles.

“Oh, sampaguita…” She brought her daughter’s hand to her lips with the lightest of kisses. Never again, she swore, would her daughter ever go through something like that again. She’ll make sure of it.

Now that she wasn’t stuck in her thoughts, she was more aware of everything now. She could see where they were headed, she could feel the fibers of the bandages, and she can hear footsteps approaching them. Pandora looked away from her daughters’ hands and brought herself upright.

Someone was making their way towards the entrance of the tent. Even though they were softened by the loose dirt shifting around, she recognized those footfalls anywhere. A distinct pattern she heard when she was staying up late with paperwork or when she was in her private studio. She turned towards the noise, hoping it was who she thought it was.

The outer flap of the tent opened, revealing who was standing behind it. Gentle firelight illuminated his white dress shirt, outlining his broad shoulders and highlighting his defined forearms, exposed thanks to him rolling up his sleeves. Dark hair was also a mess, parted bangs now uneven and sticking to his forehead with sweat. His equally dark eyes were wide enough that Pandora could see the flecks of amber shining with recognition, brimming with glassy tears. It was a sight she was used to today, but the relief in her body was instead encapsulated in a single, airy sigh,

“Viktor…”

Her husband didn’t hesitate to abandon the tent's opening to take her into his arms, Pandora happily reciprocating. The warmth of his skin penetrated the stiff leather of her Scout jacket. The familiar scent of pinewood and embers engulfed her senses, immediately calming her down, melting her intrusive thoughts into nothingness. All too soon, her husband slowly parted from her, only to cup her cheek with his hand. The cool metal of the ring around his finger sent a sudden but comforting chill down her spine. She nuzzled into his hand, pressing a softer kiss into the folds of his palm.

She looked up at him through her lashes. He met her gaze, his lips parted.

“I thought you were—”

“I’m sorry—“

They spoke at the same time. And they both laughed at the same time if only to relieve themselves of the situation they were in. They pressed their foreheads together, they truly were husband and wife. But Pandora steeled herself, parting from the intimate gesture to apologize,

“I’m sorry…” she whispered. She feared that if she spoke any louder, it would shatter the peaceful moment. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone back. I should’ve been here when it happened—”

“No, don’t apologize,” her husband chased after her, pressed his forehead against hers once again, eyes squeezing shut. Dark thoughts must’ve also been plaguing him, Pandora assumed, guilt eating at her knowing that she was the cause by not being by his side. Now, he was silently willing the twisted what ifs away now that his two loves of were in front of him.

“But—“

“Panny, stop,”

“Please, let me—“

“No, you’re here now. That’s what matters,” Viktor tenderly stroked her cheek again, sapphires staring into her soul, “That’s all that matters.”

Shutting his eyes, he leaned down to place a passionate kiss on her lips, the all too familiar taste of him flooding her mouth. Pandora had kissed her husband thousands of times throughout their joined lives, their marriage was one of love instead of propriety. But she had never felt him kiss her with such urgency. When they parted they still held each other close, their breaths mingled and their foreheads remained pressed together.

“Papa?”

They separated, but still held hands, so that Viktor could lift their daughter off Darna’s saddle and embrace her as well, whispering apologies for their separation. Just like she did with her mother, Hedone tucked her head into her papa’s neck, relishing in his warmth and scent. The exhaustion had completely melted away and was replaced with the soft, gummy feeling children had whenever they saw both of their parents after missing them. Knowing that her father was also a responsible man with a sharp eye, Hedone asked if he saw her aunties anywhere because she wanted to see them, also desperately missing them.

“I last saw Danica at the church down the street,” He softly told her, their daughter holding on to his every word. He suddenly looked extremely guilty when he turned to his wife again, “I’m sorry… I don’t know where Eva is…”

Pandora hastily smoothed his bangs back, “I-It’s alright…” She inwardly cursed at her stutter. She can’t be vulnerable now. Her husband and daughter were looking to her to remain strong. “You, Hedone, and Danica need to stay safe. That’s what matters.” She brushed Hedone’s hair back as well, she was gifted a small smile before she turned back to Viktor. “Take me to her?”

The church wasn’t that far from where they were. It was the center of all the activity and Pandora can see why. The holy building was the biggest one in the vicinity and while it was a few meters away from the wall, it was where the survivors had naturally congregated. To pray or to mourn. The military decided to take advantage of the fact and set up there as well in hopes of streamlining the chaos.

While tying Darna to a post, Pandora saw a tall, prim woman pacing in front of the tall wooden doors, wringing her heavily gloved hands together. Dark hair pulled back into a low bun was further encased in a white bandana, another one wrapped around her neck. A deep shadow cast across her face, but when she looked up, Pandora recognized her immediately, she knew those striking eyes anywhere.

“Danica,” 

She bounded up the stairs to the church and grasped the woman, gently squeezing her as she moved down her forearms, holding on to her gloves. While the doctor had only been with them for two years, she was already considered family. She placed both her hands on the woman’s face and brought her close, gently cupping her cheeks, “Are you alright?”

Danica remained silent, she lowered her gaze, the shadow across her face returning. Pandora cringed at herself, she was being so tactless today. Of course, Danica wasn’t alright, she had been treating refugees ever since the camps were set up. She had to confirm whether some of them were alive or dead and had to ignore the screams of sorrow and push forward if she was forced to say the latter. Such was the life of a doctor, you quite literally held people’s lives in your hands.

When Pandora’s gaze flickered downward, she noticed that the doctor’s gloves were completely clean. Her apron and bandanas were stain-free as well. Strange. While the Lovof’s always practiced proper hygiene, she knew a doctor’s job was messy.

“Hey,” Danica’s sharp voice brought Pandora back to reality. The doctor was looking at her, bright green eyes glowing underneath the moonlight, framed by her dark lashes that fluttered when she blinked. Her full lips seemed to move in slow motion when she uttered her next words, “Eva’s here too.”

Pandora stilled, “Where is she?” She gripped her forearms tighter, the doctor nearly flinching at the startling change of demeanor, but she knew they were the actions of a desperate woman, “Danica, where is my sister?”

Not sparing a second after she told her, she marched past all the other families huddled together under the torchlight, determined to find the last and most important member of her family. Her quickened, determined pace caught the attention of several people, some of their gazes lingering on her face and hair. Some noticed the Wings of Freedom displayed on her shoulders realizing she was another soldier at work and either kept staring in rose-tinted admiration or jade-tinted disappointment. She ignored them all. Instead, she choose to disappear into the sunset-lit hallways, the corridors housing private rooms for the holy men and women who once took shelter there. They’ve all been abandoned, emptied to make room for the living, injured, and dying. The twelfth door on the left, Danica had told her. She knew there were thirteen doors on either side of the hallway, just like the churches in Wall Sina. None of the rooms were numbered so she had to count off in her head.

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven… and twelve… 

Pandora didn’t hesitate to open the door, nearly breaking the knob with her grip. It was a room fit for a humble man or woman of faith, with not a single ornamentation on the walls. Only a simple chair in front of a wooden desk that held three books and an empty cup. Above their heads was a single window and in the far corner a small stool.

And lying on the bed, was her sister. 

Her expression was peaceful, with not a single wrinkle of tension between her brows, the moonlight leaking through the windows painted her expression with a milky white peacefulness. Her lips were slightly parted, relaxed. One of her arms laid across her middle and the other laid limply by her side.

Pandora would’ve thought she was sleeping if it weren’t for the rest of her physical state. Clothed in a Scout uniform covered in dirt, dust, and other grime, a ginormous slash cut through both her military-issued jacket and the dark turquoise cotton of her shirt, exposing the vulnerable flesh of her stomach. More slashes alongside her arms, though not as large were still cut as deep, dried blood caking the edges of the fabric. Her hair had also been undone from its updo in all of the chaos, long, tangled waves tumbling down her shoulders and nearly spilling off the mattress's edge.

“Eva,” she exhaled, falling onto her knees while grasping her sister's hand.

Eva. Eva. Eva. Sweet, bright-eyed Eva. Her little sister Eva.

Behind her, Viktor and their daughter turned to Danica. “What happened to her?” he asked, eyes wide with concern at the same time Hedone warbled, “Is… Is Tita Eva okay, Tita Danica?”

“I don’t know. I found her near Wall Rose’s gate like this.” Danica answered the Lovof’s honestly, turning her gaze to the two sisters. “When I carried her here, her eyes were still open. And she was barely conscious when I set her on the bed.”

“And now?”

“Now… now she’s quiet.”

“What do you mean quiet?” Pandora asked from her bedside.

“She’s…” Danica remained silent, her mouth twisted into a wrinkled line, and lowered her gaze. As if she didn’t know how to continue without possibly offending someone but she was trying to find the best way not to do so. 

Pandora looked up at her, eyes silently pleading. “Danica…?”

“She’s…” Danica swallowed thickly, “She’s not breathing.”

For the second time that day, Pandora swore her heart stopped.

Not breathing? That wasn’t possible. That would mean she’s dead, and she’s not dead. 

All of her cuts had been tended to and were appropriately wrapped, there was not a single drop of blood on the white sheets, no way for her to bleed out. Internal bleeding? Not likely, no bruises were marring her skin. A head injury? There wasn’t any indication of head trauma from what she could see. Danica would’ve told her by now. And besides, Eva was much tougher than she looked. Pandora remembered her driving her elbow into her sparring partner so hard that blood sprayed everywhere, staining both of their uniforms. She cringed and decided to make it up to him by taking him to the medical office for treatment. Always the compassionate one. 

Why was she remembering her like this? She wasn’t gone! Eva was right there in front of her! And as long as she was in front of her, Pandora wasn’t going to give in to the dark recesses of her mind.

How could she when the stomping of boots and a boisterous baritone blared out, quickly approaching their door? A loud crude voice disrupted the quiet atmosphere. There was a man standing at the door, the other three occupants of the room took note of the Garrison roses stamped on his jacket. Pandora couldn't care less.

“State your business,” She muttered, despondent. 

The soldier doesn’t even acknowledge Pandora or her family. He was completely focused on Danica, blue eyes set in an icy glare, “Nurse Danica, you were never permitted to leave your station. Return to the doctors at once!”

“It’s Dr. Isa,” Danica responded steely, open, concerned expression replaced with steely professionalism. “And I was seeing to my employer and patron. I will return to the others shortly once we ensure Lady Eva is in stable condition.”

“You will do no such thing!” Whitestone bellowed, and made a move to enter the room but Viktor quickly stood in his way. Hedone cowering against the furthest wall, her hands clutched in front of her chest. “Nurse Danica, I order you to return to your previous station and stay there until a proper doctor can attend to— these people!” he cupped a hand over his mouth, hissing the words in a whisper like he was a schoolboy exchanging gossip and not a grown man. “You have no business consorting with the likes of them while comforting my soldiers!”

Pandora knew the comment was directed towards herself and her daughter rather than her entire family. It was something that she was used to in her living in the Walls, but her daughter didn’t need to hear such things. Viktor thought the same thing, gently patting her head and whispering to their daughter to cover her ears. One glance at Whitestone and Pandora’s husband knew that he had nothing worthwhile to say.

“As I have said multiple times before; I am a registered doctor as well,” Danica’s lip curled in a sneer, tired of hearing the man’s yapping, “Let me make sure that this scout is in stable condition and then I will return and… comfort your men.”

Viktor and Pandora cringed, fully understanding the implications. That’s why Danica’s gloves were so clean: instead of tending to the wounded, she was forced to coddle uninjured, traumatized boys who have yet to grow into their proper roles as soldiers. Or maybe they were already grown and still thought that the best way to unwind from a disaster was to satisfy the heat in their loins. Danica was hoping that by emphasizing Eva’s status as a working Scout, she could escape Whitestone, always the cunning one.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” The Garrison pig leaned side to side so he can better look at the doctor around Viktor’s broad frame. “Your delicate constitution has no place tending to the wounded! And despite your ‘experience’, you have no proof of your insistent claims. I will not have an overly eager nurse ruin the reputation of the military’s doctors as they perform their operations when she is clearly better off drying the eyes of crying children.”

Under normal circumstances, Pandora would smartly wave those comments away with a delicate laugh, softly, but proudly, declaring that Danica has been under their employment and patronage for two years and she’s been nothing but the perfect doctor for their family. But after driving herself crazy thinking her family was murdered, being mocked by the cadet that protected her daughter, and now the Section Commander she recognized as Nigel Whitestone blatantly disrespecting not just her but her friend because they just happened to have different body parts than him, her temper flared. Gripping the bedsheet, she inhaled deeply, not even bothering Whitestone with a glance.

“If you won’t take it from her, take it from me: this woman is a working doctor. She was a doctor long before we employed her under our name, and she will be a doctor for many years to come. When a great number of people are harmed, no matter the time of day, she will be one of the first to treat them. She graduated from one of the most prestigious universities in Wall Sina with a certificate—better yet, a whole-fucking-degree in medical studies. She is more than capable of treating these refugees on her own. If anyone needs a nurse assisting them, it’s her.”

If they allowed her. If they stopped underestimating her abilities like this. If they stopped regulating her to jobs that were essentially errands their uninjured soldiers can do.

“So I suggest,” Pandora continued, finally turning her head to Whitestone. “That you stand back and let Dr. Danica Isa do her job.”

Offended by the very idea that the title of Doctor could be held by a woman, and now being told off by someone of her appearance, Whitestone’s face burned red with fury. His fists clenched at his sides were less of him suppressing his anger and more of showing off his superiority to her. That, he, a man of high ranking in the military, can rein in his emotions better than the women in front of him. When in reality, he was doing the exact opposite; his emotions were displayed plain as day on his plain-looking face.

“Her job,” he sneered, volume slowly rising, “is to assist the military’s doctors in their endeavors and to keep my soldiers comfortable and warm. Not coddle some spoiled corpse with scalpels and needles until her sister shows up to devour her remains. She wouldn’t even let one of my men rest on her lap so they could recover. Instead leaving him to rest his head on some itchy tarp so she could grab a pillow.”

He then waved a hand in front of Danica, gesturing to her apron-covered form. “Does she, a working doctor, you say, not realize how significantly a warm, plush body can heal a man? What could she possibly do to heal your dead sister? Fluff her pillows? Give her a kiss good night? This isn’t a fairytale where she can miraculously bring her back from the dead.”

“Stop saying those things.” Hedone whimpered, hearing Whitestone’s fury through her covered ears, refusing to believe her Tita Eva was among the thousands dead. Whitestone also disregarded her with a wave of a hand, face remaining devoid of sympathy. Yet another girl he felt he needed to silence. Viktor quickly covered her hands with his own and tucked her against his chest so she wouldn’t have to listen to the pathetic man anymore.

“If their eyes aren’t open, they’re dead. If there’s no pulse, they’re dead. If they’re dead, they’re very much dead and nothing else. I’ve seen more corpses today than any of you Sina residents had in your entire lifetime, and that woman,” Whitestone jabbed a finger at Eva’s unresponsive form. “Is very much dead. Remove her from the room so we can make room for others, I won’t ask again.”  

“She’s not dead.” Pandora seethed, eyes suddenly lit with a fire, a sharp glare directed at him. “Stop saying that. I order you as a Section Commander of the Survey Corps.”

Whitestone scoffed, leering down at her, thanks to Pandora’s position on the floor he stood taller than her. A fact he made more obvious by jutting his chin upward. “You can’t order me around like those sissy ass-wipes that call themselves Scouts, old maid.” He waved a hand in front of her face, further mocking her diminutive stance. “And because of your lack of respect towards real authority, Cadet, we won’t be giving your baby sister a proper soldier’s funeral pyre or a burial.” 

Viktor was aghast, mouth parting in disbelief, “Prohibiting a soldier’s burial is illegal, is it not?”

“I’m sure her exoticness won’t mind.” Whitestone declared with an exaggerated flourish. “It’s not like she can see any difference.”

Viktor nearly shot forward, teeth bared and ready to charge, but the all too familiar sound of a blade being unsheathed echoed across the room. Instead of that, he, their daughter, and their doctor quickly retreated behind her. In one swift move, she stood tall in front of them, blocking Whitestone from advancing further. Her blade cut a white streak through the darkness, running diagonally across her front as if it was a shield, further catching the moon’s essence across its sharp edge. 

“Do that and you will be one of the corpses they dump outside.”

Whitestone’s slit-eyed glare intensified, now forced to stare up at her with her full height, “How dare you? Threatening a Section Commander of the Garrison?”

“No,” Pandora's voice was shaking with an uncontrollable rage. “No, how dare you. Disrespecting a highly regarded Doctor based on her gender and forcing her to undergo blatant harassment from your soldiers, disrespecting a Section Commander of a different military division for the same reason, and withholding a soldier from possibly receiving a proper farewell because of a personal grudge. I doubt Commander Pixis, drunk or not, would allow such behaviors to continue.” 

“Proper farewell? So you admit then?” Whitestone advanced towards her, she remained steadfast in her position, unrelenting as he stopped in front of her. She could feel Viktor tensing behind her, handing Hedone to Danica in case he needed to step in. “You admit that she’s dead? It’s easier to admit it now, so you can get over it faster. You Scouts do it all the time do you not?”

“I said possibly, Whitestone,” Pandora repeated, also stepping forward. “I refuse to give up on my sister as easily as you have. Take one more step and I will slice you from nose to navel.” She loosely gestured to her blade, demonstrating how easily she can turn it in her grasp and do as she promised.

Whitestone seemed to be at a loss for words, eyes darting around the room. But Pandora stood so close to him, blade in hand and eyes ablaze that he had no choice but to stare at her directly. She was already standing at an impressive height, but the small heels on the military-provided boots made her stature even more noticeable. Seeing nothing but this woman staring so intensely at him, his eyes took a more animalistic glint. Pandora hoped that this wasn’t the case. Nothing seemed to stop Whitestone, so he kept running his mouth and confirmed, yes, it was exactly as she thought.

“Such a mouth for a woman of your background…” He leered even closer to her, inhaling her every breath like it was a drug. An action required if only to look closer at her full lips, which were pressed into a thin line. She could feel his eyes sliding along the curve of her hips and chest, lingering on her legs as if imagining her getting on her knees again. “Perhaps… if you put that mouth of yours to better use, I can pretend that this heated exchange between us never happened. You can keep this room for your sister-corpse and have Nurse Danica for yourself the entire night as well.”

Was this man incapable of reading the situation? Eva could be dying, Danica was the only person who could treat her and this son of a bitch decides to not only dangle her in front of her face and promise her to them like a lady of the night but also proposition her, a married woman, in front of her husband and child? Pandora really should be used to this right now, but she couldn’t stop another flush of embarrassment flooding her cheeks. The warmth quickly approaching her back told her that Viktor was already standing behind her, no doubt giving the Garrison pig a glare that would've burned him into a pile of ashes. Standing at his own impressive height, they both easily towered over Whitestone.

And as if Whitestone couldn’t be any more despicable, the man had the audacity to smirk at her husband. Pandora tensed even further but Viktor placed a large hand over her shoulder, his glare hardened. Her initial anger slowly dissipated, but still simmered under the surface. A grim acceptance replaced it when Pandora finally came to grips with the reality in front of her: her sister was gone. She could deny it all she wanted, run through a list of injuries Eva possibly had during her mission to protect the civilians, and pretend that her sister was invincible as she always thought she was, but the truth was she wasn't breathing. And from how much Danica was pacing at the entrance when they first arrived, she wasn't able to restart her heart either. The window of opportunity to save her had passed. Eva Stein-Reiss was dead.

And it was all her fault.

Softly exhaling, Pandora sheathed her sword, releasing herself from her tight stance. “Will you allow this old maid to bid her sister farewell instead before you dump her body behind this church as you will undoubtedly do to the rest of the unnamed citizens that don’t matter to you?”

Finally catching on that she wasn’t going to bend to him, literally and metaphorically, Whitestone backed off with a distasteful sniff, “Fine. Do whatever backwater traditions your people do to their dead.” He turned his back to them, but not before throwing his head back to deliver one last insult, “And don’t even try eating her, I know all the dirty thoughts going through your mind, Oriental.”

Feeling victorious, and with one last upwards jerk of his chin, he left the room. The three occupants of the room felt that he’d claimed victory in a game that he wasn’t even playing, let alone knew the rules of, was more appropriate. However, he remained just outside the door, still determined to claim Danica as a ‘nurse’ for his coup of Garrison pigs for the rest of the night.

Hedone at her father, her ears still covered with her own hands so she didn’t hear the entire exchange. She only saw her mother raise her blades and her father standing behind her. She quickly removed her hands from her ears and stepped away from the wall to stand next to her Tita Danica, immediately calling to her distressed mother, “Mama?”

Viktor’s hands came onto Pandora's shoulders again, gently rubbing them. Pandora grasped his hands, rubbing over his knuckles to calm them both. She turned her head and gave her husband a gentle nod, but his grip remained. All three of them were looking at her, a mixture of sadness, pity, and the smallest inklings of disappointment. Just as she thought. She hated it. She hated there were only three of them looking at her that way. There should've been four. But that would mean that there would be four pairs of eyes looking at her that way. It hit her again.

Her sister was gone. And it was all her fault. It made her numb. It made her want to scream. It made her want to cry. It made her want to rage. It made her want to destroy everything—

But she kept her face in its soft neutrality.

She can’t be vulnerable.

“Go pay your respects,” Dani directed the couple to the bed, placing a hand on Viktor's, “I’ll deal with him.” The doctor jerked her chin at Whitestone. Pandora swore the Garrison roses on his back wilted under her piercing gaze.

Pandora returned to the bedside once again, her backside suddenly came into contact with the wooden stool. Danica must’ve moved it there while Whitestone was huffing and puffing over his superiority. Finally taking settling down, she shakily sighed, another fresh wave of tears pricking at her eyes again. How many times was she going to have to hold back her unsteady breaths and watery eyes today? With her husband and daughter at her sides, she leaned over her sister's lifeless body,

“Eva,” she softly whispered into her ear, wisps of raven hair pressing against her full cheek. “I know you. You don’t die. You can’t die. You’ve survived so much. You survived cadet training, you survived our uncle, you survived my mother…”

Pandora pulled away, only to cup her sister’s face. Her thumb brushed against the divots of the scar slashed across her flesh, beginning at her jaw and ending across her nose, just beside the mole under her eye. “You survived me… you can survive this…”

She pressed their foreheads together, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back her tears. One last, crumbling plea escaping her lips, “Please…”

At that moment, a jolt shook her body. A shockwave of energy went from the top of her head to the tips of her toes and finally conjoined at the center of her chest.

She was plucked from her spot on the stone floors of the church and thrown into a place that should not exist. She was breathless. She was blinded by the images before her. And unlike before, where the chaos drowned out every feeling, her senses were as sharp as ever and even more. She could hear everything, feel everything, see everything…

Another jolt and she was suddenly back in the church, hands flat on the mattress to steady herself. Nobody noticed that she had left, her husband and daughter didn’t even notice, still glued to her sides, Danica was still arguing with the Garrison soldier, and her dead sister…

A soft exhale against her skin.

Pandora quickly lifted her palm from her sister’s cheek, her eyes wide a gasp escaping her lips. Viktor opened his eyes, immediately attentive to his wife's shocked expression, Hedone doing the same. She ignored both of them. Was that what she thought it was? Did she imagine it again in her foolishness? She leaned closer to Eva’s face, her sister's eyes remained closed. Please, please, please. And there it was again. A shallow breath of air escaping her pale lips, the underlying warmth of blood pumping through her body could be felt at this intimate distance. She brought her hand to Eva again, this time along her neck. When she pressed her fingers against her flesh that’s when she truly felt it; the painfully familiar thump thump thump of her heart. Just like the cadet’s voice and piercing eyes, just like Hedone’s exhaustion, this couldn’t be faked.

If there’s no pulse, they’re dead. Dead and nothing else.

But there was a pulse. Eva was alive.

“Danica!” she called out, more of a gasp than anything else. Viktor and Hedone jumped back, startled. The lady doctor snapped her head from the increasingly agitated Whitestone to the demure Section Commander, golden-green eyes wide at the suddenly relieved shouting from someone who was supposedly grieving. “There’s a pulse! I found her pulse!”

Danica rushed over, not caring about Whitestone’s protests, and placed her hand where Pandora’s once was, feeling the same rhythm of her heart that she did. The doctor gasped similarly in astonishment, “There’s a pulse…” She whispered in awe. She placed her hands on Eva’s wrists to make absolute sure. Her pulse could still be felt all the way there, impossibly strong and steady.

“There’s a pulse.” She said. Louder, so that Whitestone could hear her, Danica raised her head to look at him directly. Her emerald eyes reflected both the embers of the torches on the walls and the moonlight streaming from the window above all of their heads, her irises practically glowing. “There’s a pulse. She’s still alive.”

Whitestone’s face flushed a deeper red, his jaw clenched and his lips twisted into a pink worm. He sputtered gibberish, loosely pointing one calloused finger from Pandora, to Danica, then to the unconscious Eva. His lips started to open and close as if he was gaping fish. He was so confident that the world would bend to his wants and desires, as it must’ve done before for him to develop such hubris. He truly didn’t expect someone to not only resist his demands but prove his absolute truths wrong. Multiple times. Pandora thought that he was going to explode in his supposed humiliation.

With a final, petulant stomp of his boot, he stormed away from the twelfth door of the third hallway of the church.

A collective sigh of relief was shared between the adults in the room. Hedone slowly squirmed out of her father's embrace, Viktor letting her go now that Whitestone was gone. She reached for the cup on the desk, looking inside to make sure it was empty, gently swiping the rim with the edge of her sleeve. A small hand reached up into her messy hair, plucking a loose daisy and putting it into the cup. Slowly seeing her idea come together, she reached for the rest of the flowers in her hair, even plucking the ones that didn’t have any petals leftover.

Viktor walked over and plucked the few she couldn’t reach, understanding what she was doing with a soft smile on his face. Pandora knew what they were doing too. When Hedone brought the cup to her side, she stroked her hair back with more comforting touches. Her daughter smiled before settling back to her side. The cup was filled with the daisies from her hair; a makeshift flower vase. Like what Eva would make for them whenever they were sick and quarantined under Danica's care.

Despite Hedone’s best efforts to clean the cup, it was discolored and the handle was on the verge of collapse. It was messy, simultaneously empty yet full of incomplete daises, half of them were from Hedone’s hair and the other half lost in the chaos of the streets. 

But it was perfect. 

Pandora kissed her daughter's hand again. Her poor, heartbroken, little girl. Never again, sampaguita, she silently promised her. Her eyes looked to Danica coming in and out of the room, continuously checking on Eva’s pulse while she hurried around, knowing that she wouldn't have as much time with her because of the other refugees that needed her aid. Viktor kneeling by Eva's bedside, his worried gaze switching between all four of them while holding her and Hedone impossibly close to his chest. 

They were all here in front of her. They were all alive and yet, they were all broken.

Never again would either of you go through that, never again.

She hoped Eva heard her, wherever she was.