Chapter Text
The candle-lit basement hallways give off an unwelcoming atmosphere as you pass several prison cells.
One week ago.
Exactly one week ago, Levi returned with the so-called “heroes” of the world. One week ago, the Rumbling was stopped. And one week ago, you imprisoned Reiner Braun.
You’ve been extremely busy since then. The number of court hearings involving the late Commander Hange’s group felt endless. The Yeagerist government accused them of treason, but unlucky for them, the people weren’t buying it. Not after everything that happened.
The Rumbling was a tragedy. Too many people died — on the island and beyond it. The world outside the Walls exists now, even if it’s barely recognizable. The Walls themselves are nothing more than old stories, relics of a past that doesn’t matter anymore.
If there was one upside to the Rumbling, it was that Paradis wouldn’t be threatened for a while. No immediate enemies. No incoming attacks. That didn’t mean things were fixed though.
You authorized a restoration mission beyond the island, sending former Scouts and volunteers to help recover what was left and assist in rebuilding efforts. You put Levi in charge of it. Even stuck in a wheelchair, the man still had more authority than half the government combined.
Your heels echo against the stone floor as you walk deeper into the prison. You turn a corner and finally reach your destination.
Reiner’s cell comes into view. You narrow your eyes, trying to tell if he’s asleep — or pretending to be.
You stop in your tracks when you catch a glint of silver in the darkness.
Your eyes widen immediately, and you don’t hesitate. You break into a run toward the cell, heels clacking violently against the stone floor.
“Reiner, don’t you fucking dare!” you shout.
Your voice is sharp and commanding, but it doesn’t stop the fear from crawling up your spine. You already know what you’re about to see.
His face comes into view just as he turns his head toward you. Gun in hand. Watching you approach like he’s already made peace with whatever comes next.
You reach the cell and fumble with the lock, your hands shaking as the key refuses to turn. You keep glancing up at him, waiting for movement. Waiting for the worst.
He doesn’t move.
He just stares at you.
Finally, the lock clicks open. You shove the door wide and rush inside, grabbing his wrist and yanking the gun from his hand. He doesn’t resist. His grip loosens easily, like he never planned on holding onto it for long.
You’re panting, breaths coming fast as the black turtleneck clings to your back, cold sweat beading at your neck.
You meet his eyes.
They’re darker than you remember. Light brown, drained of anything warm as he looks down at you. His massive frame towers over yours, his shadow swallowing you whole.
Before you can tear into him, he scoffs. A breath leaves him as he turns away, walking toward the small sink. He picks up a book resting at the edge, fingers curling around it.
“Why are you here,” he says at last. His voice is deep. Flat. Empty.
“How did you get that gun?” you ask instead, your voice steadier now as you toss it outside the cell. It clatters against the stone.
Reiner moves toward the narrow bed, tossing the book onto it before his eyes return to yours.
His head jerks toward the corner behind you.
You turn and spot the patrol guard slumped against the wall, passed out cold. You roll your eyes and turn back to Reiner. What a fucking hassle.
“Why?” The question comes out sharp, almost furious — even though you already know the answer.
His eyes stay locked on you as he steps closer. You have to tilt your head back to keep eye contact.
“I think you know the answer to that,” he says, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Now. Why are you here.”
You blink, forcing your thoughts into order as you straighten your posture. This time, it's your turn to scoff.
“It seems like you’ve made yourself comfortable,” you say, brushing past him and deliberately ignoring his question. Your gaze lands on the book sitting on the bed.
“Answer me.”
“No.” You flick your head toward him. “I outrank you,” you add coolly. “Don’t forget that.”
You keep walking, heels clacking in the silent cell as you make your way toward the sink. You look up at the cracked mirror above it, meeting his eyes through the reflection.
“I want something from you,” you say.
A feeling of unease settles in your gut as he shifts, his head cocking slightly to the side — an unspoken invitation to continue.
“But I need your willingness.”
You turn around, facing him fully. He lifts a hand to his stubble, rubbing at his chin as he studies you.
“I decline,” he says at last. “I’m not willing to do anything. And I think my time on this planet has come to an end.”
“Why are you so eager to end your life, Braun?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is now,” you snap. “You’re under my orders.”
A smirk forms on his lips as he steps closer, closing the distance. Your eyes widen slightly.
“Chief Hale, is it?” he says. “Vivian Hale?”
He steps closer again. You step back.
“You know…” he starts. “No one’s around here.”
Another step.
“No one would hear anything either.”
Your lower back hits the sink, stopping you from retreating any further.
“So drop this superiority complex of yours—”
The slap echoes loudly through the hall.
His head snaps to the side, the force of it turning his face away from you. For a moment, he just stands there, stunned. Then he slowly looks back at you, shock written all over his face.
“Do not threaten me, Mister Braun,” you hiss. His name tastes bitter on your tongue.
“You know…” you say mockingly, “your mother came to see me a few days ago.”
His eyes widen. He takes a step back, looking you over like he’s seeing you for the first time.
“Why?” His voice comes out rough. “How do you know my mother?”
“We go way back,” you say, stepping toward him now. “Three years ago, I met her at a farmer’s market in Marley during a reconnaissance mission. Sweet woman. The kind who invites you home for dinner if you show her even a bit of kindness.”
You twist a finger around a strand of your hair.
“She did exactly that — after I helped her out with two Marleyan men who were harassing her.”
You watch his expression darken. His jaw tightens, fist clenching as veins stand out along his neck and wrist. Damn..
“But don’t worry,” you add casually. “I dealt with them.”
His eyes snap back to yours.
“Fast forward to today,” you continue. “She requested an audience with me. Came straight to my house. And let’s just say… that conversation surprised me.”
You toss your hair back.
“She asked me to imprison you. To have a conversation with you about — let’s call them — future plans.”
“Where is this going?” he snaps. “Get to the fucking point, Hale.”
You smile, heat sparking in your chest as you step closer, hands folding neatly behind your back.
“She wants a grandson before her time comes.”
You watch as his expression completely drops.
“What did you just say?” he asks, a breath slipping out as his eyes narrow into slits. Anger finally cracks through his composure.
You turn away from him, walking toward the guard sprawled on the floor.
“To be honest, I was against the idea at first,” you say casually, crouching down and unclipping the badge from the guard’s uniform before slipping it into your pocket. “But it turns out I need to continue my own legacy too.”
You straighten slowly.
“So I gave it some thought.”
Your eyes meet his again. He stiffens, whatever cockiness he had left draining from his face as you walk closer.
“Technically, it doesn’t have to be you,” you continue. “I could find another man. Someone respectable. Someone capable.”
You stop in front of him.
“The problem is… No man I can think of, compares to you when it comes to dying for something. ” You say, lifting your hand and placing a finger on your lips.
His jaw tightens.
“You’re strong enough. Intelligent enough. And most important of all, capable of protecting a child — even with your life,” you add coolly. “Considering you don’t seem to value it much yourself.”
You tilt your head slightly.
“And on top of that, your mother begged me.” You place a hand over your heart, mock sincerity in the gesture. “She was on her knees, crying about her son needing someone in his life. Someone to bring him light. Someone he could make love to and build a family with.”
You let the words sink in.
“That part,” you say lightly, “really touched me.”
His eyes drop for just a second before flicking back up.
You smile.
“You expect me to believe my mother asked for that?” he says, his tone dark.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” you reply, blinking at him. “If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem.”
Silence settles between you as you size each other up.
“I won’t do anything with you,” he says finally, dragging a hand down his face. “I won’t bring life into this world. I’m not cut out to be a father.” He exhales sharply. “And besides that, you’d be the last woman on earth I’d ever consider.”
You roll your eyes. Fuck him. Seriously.
You knew coming here was a gamble — and clearly a waste of time. That old woman should have known her son is the real suicidal maniac.
“I gave you a chance to have something to live for,” you say, stepping closer. “Your life is pathetic. Filled with sad little stories you tell yourself just so you can justify ending it.”
You scoff.
“Do you really think dying would make anything better?”
“What about your mother? Falco? Gabi?” you snap, grabbing the collar of his shirt. “Who’s supposed to protect them if you’re dead?”
Your grip tightens.
“Or are you really that selfish?”
A beat of silence passes.
You let go and shove his shirt back into place before tsking and turning toward the cell door.
That’s when his hand wraps around your arm.
He yanks you back. You turn sharply, his face pulled into a deep frown, eyes locked onto yours.
“Why do you care so much?” he asks.
“I don’t,” you say flatly. “I see you as a potential investment. Someone who can help me reach my goal.”
You pull your arm free.
“But I don’t waste time on people who are weak-minded.”
“Give me time to think,” he says quietly.
“I don’t have time, Reiner,” you answer without hesitation. “I need an answer now.”
He exhales through his nose.
“You really want to make this difficult.”
“Perhaps.”
He studies you for a long moment.
“…Alright,” he says at last.
Then his eyes narrow slightly.
“And for your information,” he adds, “I wasn’t planning on ending my life with that gun.”
You shift, breaking eye contact as you turn and walk toward the cell door. I'm sure as hell not staying any longer to find out.
“And I don’t make love,” he says behind you.
The low edge in his voice sends a chill up your spine.
You open the door and step out without looking back, fully aware of his gaze following you as you walk down the hall and toward the exit.