Bertholdt x Reader: Choices (Spoilers!)

Wall Rose has fallen.

You stumble through the streets, staring into empty space. The town, which had been so vibrant and lively a few hours ago, is now a blood-stained battlefield and a barren wasteland. Even the titans had disappeared, continuing southward in search of more prey.

You're alone.

There’s nothing left, except for a few half-standing houses, rubble, and deep indentations on the ground where the titans had stood as they reached down to pick up humans. Where they stood as they ate them, with their rabid smiles, and where they’d stepped, crushing dozens at a time. Each indentation marks the grave of dozens of people.

“Someone…someone…” You hear a weak voice from within a collapsed building. You head towards it, digging your way through and pulling aside wooden beams, ignoring the splinters digging into your hands and the sharp ends of the debris which gouge into your hands, leaving deep trenches.  

You finally reach the source of the voice; a little boy, only 5 or 6 years old. He’s lying on his back, in a pool of red fluid.

You kneel down and hold him, trying the staunch the wound. “Shh, shh, it’s ok.” You say, but your words sound hollow and mechanical.

“Where’s my Mama and Papa?” The boy sobs, his voice wavering as more of his life seeps out and drips onto the ground.

“Shh, it’s ok.” You repeat, trying to place more emotion into your voice. You try to reassure the boy, to tell him that surely his parents are ok and must be looking for him right now. But the words won’t come out. You hate yourself; the one time you need to lie, and you couldn’t.

The boy starts to say something else, but he chokes and gargles out blood. His chest heaves faster and faster as he tries to draw more air into his ruined body. You grasp his hand and try to apply more pressure onto his wound but it’s too late. You can do nothing but watch as the light fades from his eyes, leaving nothing but inky dark orbs on his face.  

You gently place the boy down and close his eyes. There’s nothing more you can do now.

I’m sorry…I’m sorry….I’m so sorry…

You stand up and stare at your hands, now stained red. You try wiping the blood off, but the scent lingers, making your stomach heave with nausea and disgust. You clench your teeth to keep the bile from rising, and continue onwards.

                                     

If it hadn’t been for the slight breeze, you would’ve missed it. You see something waving in the wind. You walk towards it. Maybe…? You feel a spark of hope

But luck doesn’t favour you.

The object is practically the exact same colour as the surrounding ground, almost perfectly blending into it. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the breeze, you probably wouldn’t have seen it at all. But looking at it, you wish that you had missed it.

You reach down and pick up Mikasa's scarf.

She would’ve never let it out of her possession or let it become so ruined and filthy; she loved it too much.  But now it’s tattered, ripped, and completely mangled. It feels hard and stiff, after having been soaked in blood for so long.

The hope extinguishes.

                                       

You look up and blink. You’re standing in front of the Recon Corps HQ. The Eastern half is still upright, but everything else is destroyed. You walk through the rubble, ignoring the glass and debris that scratch your legs and feet.

It feels like an eternity, but you finally reach a section that you recognize. You stand in the center of the room, remembering that day.

“You could help us by keeping our secret. If you do, you’ll be helping humanity. You’ll be minimizing the number casualties! So please, don’t tell anyone.” You curl your hands into a tight fist, digging your nails into your hands. Why did I believe that? I’m such an idiot.

“I won’t force you to do anything. The choice is yours.” He was right; it had been your choice; that’s what made it even worse.

“I love you, _____. Please." Had he really? Or had you just been a pawn in his mission?

You hear footsteps coming from behind you. You whip your head around and stare at Bertholdt.

Like you, his military uniform is also ripped and tattered. And he’s also covered in blood.

“Why are you here?” Your voice doesn’t even sound like your own anymore. It’s scratchy, rough, and broken. It doesn’t belong to the girl who had been so naïve and foolish, and who’s future had been so bright a few hours ago.

Bertholdt shrugs. “I was wondering where you were, that’s all.”

He walks over to you and envelopes you in a hug. Your body turns to ice. You want him off of you. You want to throw his hands off of you; those bloody hands which had killed tens of thousands of innocent people. The hands of the Colossal Titan, humanity’s enemy. The ones responsible for all of your friends’ deaths, including that little boy whose name you never even knew.

But you don’t.

Because your hands are just as dirty as his are.  

This is all my fault. I should have told Erwin, I should have told someone…anyone…it’s all my fault.

Bertholdt leans down and kisses you.

“Thank you, _____. You did great.”

You don’t feel his lips pressing against yours, but you do feel the knife slide into your body. You feel the cold, merciless steel pierce your body and dig into your heart.  

You slump forward, and Bertholdt catches you. He gently lowers you to the ground. You can see black blobs and bubbles in the corner of your eyes, spreading rapidly and obscuring your vision. It becomes harder and harder to breath.

“Remember that the choice was always yours, _______.”



You’re right, Bertholdt. It was my choice. I helped you because I loved you.