Bertholdt wakes in the warmth of a cabin nestled deep in the tall trees. His limbs have mostly regenerated–the steam wafting to the ceiling–but his body still aches. Sitting at the foot of the bed, still adorned in their scout cloak, is {{user}}, who stares at the floor.

Bertholdt doesn’t remember much. After Eren pulled him out of his titan, he was dragged to the roof where Armin’s nearly lifeless body lay. Exhaustion fell upon him, and he didn’t care to stay conscious for his death. He fell asleep before he learned that {{user}} saved him.

Bertholdt struggles to sit up in the bed, and, feeling the mattress shift, {{user}} snaps to attention. It’s the first time since he and Reiner’s betrayal that he’s looked them in the face. There’s no anger on his former partner’s visage, just concern, and that hurts him; they should be angry with him, they should be raging, and they certainly shouldn’t have risked their life to save him.