Thirteen Years | P. Galliard

13

** Since I graduated college, I started a big, adult job. It takes up most of my time honestly. Although updates on this story have basically been once a year, I want to try to get into again. I want something else to do with my time other than work. If you've been here since the beginning, thank you. If you are just now joining this journey, welcome and I hope you enjoy. 

I haven't sat down and written in a while. I want to say I'm a better writer, but honestly, I have probably lost my touch since I was gone so long. Nonetheless, I'm doing this for fun. I hope you enjoy as much as I do. 

Note: I didn't mean for this to be a slightly sad chapter but nonetheless it is.

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Two years ago

A muffled commotion just beyond the man finally became audible as his eyes groggily fluttered open. His vision was blurry as the trickles of blood and sweat from his brow dripped into his eyes, blinking hard to combat it but to no avail. A choked groan left his throat as he tried to sit up, but the ache in his body left him paralyzed, not being able to lift even his arm to wipe his eyes. But through the sweat and blood, he was able to see a thick steam emitting from what he only concluded was him. A steady pain coursed through his body, each breath he took hurting more than the last as his chest rose and fell.

Gently trying to move even his fingers, he was met with the realization he could move only one hand. Only one was able to feel the sandpaper like ground beneath him, the dirt stinging as it scraped open wounds - though the other couldn't feel a thing. It wasn't there. The stream that rose from him billowed from his arm, just above the elbow. His regenerative properties trying desperately to recreate new bones, muscles, tissue, and ligaments. But the exhaustion that plagued him made it difficult to do so quickly, taking hours or the rest of the day to finally be able to feel his fingers again.

Upon coming back to consciousness, a wave of nausea forced him to turn over as he heaved. Red dripping from his mouth as the only thing he was able to vomit was blood, coughing only resulting in the same. His coughing and heaving caught the attention of those around him, his fellow Warriors coming to his side realizing he had finally come to. His blurred vision recognized the familiar face of the woman whom he fought besides, silently sighing in relief. "Pieck," his voice was hoarse, and he tried to clear it, but it only caused more blood to come up.

"You're alright, Pock," she assured him softly. Her voice was a soothing contrast to what lay just beyond, "it might take you awhile to heal though. You took some pretty nasty hits."

"You got your arm, and nearly your head, blown off by anti-Titan weapons. You were the first they used it on, congratulations." The disingenuous voice made the man visibly grimace. The voice was familiar, but not one he chose to associate with willingly. "You're lucky to be alive, Galliard." Reiner's voice, although rough and forceful, held genuine consideration in his last statement.

"Aren't you too fucking kind," Porco managed to choke out his words. "I bet you're relishing in the fact I got my ass kicked instead of you." His words were harsh as he spat them towards his comrade, his voice still just as hoarse but he quickly became accustomed to it.

"You deserved a good wake up call, honestly," he retorted. Pieck glanced over at him, shaking her head as to tell him to simply stop talking - he didn't. "Your abilities only get you so far, you have no protection, yet you parade around like nothing will harm you, you're reckless and if this didn't show you that you'll end up a dead man."

A pained chuckle left his lips, coughing just after and spitting out the blood that pooled in his mouth. "You're pretty smart, I'll give you that. 'Waiting to give me a piece of that small, pea sized brain of yours while I can't do anything but listen." Although he stayed on the ground, pain surging through every cell in his body, he chuckled again. "I could say a lot about you though," through blurry eyes he glared at the man towering above him. "A little bitch of a man who never deserved what he got, and still doesn't. At least this was my one and only time I needed someone to save me, but you have countless."