It takes two more weeks for your ankle to heal, and you're beginning to wonder if you know how to pick locks, because being confined to one room all day is frustrating as hell.

The other option you considered is knocking out Tanner and escaping, but you don't want this to be considered an 'escape'. You're not a prisoner. You're just in isolation because you "need time to heal and can't have anything like the overwhelming sensations of the outside interrupt your path to recovery" as Doctor Fizal so eloquently puts it. One of these day you're going to punch that woman in the face and feel absolutely no remorse about it.

You just want to wander halls. Explore. Maybe see what the city looks like. Is that too much to ask?

Tanner changes from morning visits to evening visits, and he eventually trusts you enough to hold a quill. He gives you his utensil and a book for a hard surface and asks you to draw- anything you want, whatever comes to mind. For whatever reason, you start sketching tea cups. There's something about Levi's visit that's still bothering you.

"Tea?" Tanner asks, studying your page. "Any significance?"

You shrug. "Levi brought me tea."

His face pales. Apparently, he remembers Levi quite vividly. "I- I see. Any significant memories with that? Were you a tea drinker?"

You shrug again, dipping your quill in ink. "Who knows?" you mutter. "No one seems overly inclined to tell me anything."

Tanner shifts nervously. "Well, we're trying to let you form the memories on your own. If we try to force your opinions and similar onto you, it might impact your healing, especially if you recover any memories that contradict what you've been told."

It makes sense, but you don't like it. "That's stupid," you grumble.

"You say that about a lot of things."

"So I'm a pessimist," you muse to yourself. You glance up at Tanner. "You concluded anything about me in the four weeks you've kept me in here? I'd like to hope you have."

"A few things," he confirms. "May I?"

He's holding out his hand, so you hand back the quill, the paper you were doodling on, and the hard book that you were using as a surface. "When will you let me out?"

"When Doctor Fizal clears you," Tanner replies.

"You say that every time."

He shrugs. "Well, it's true. Anyways..." He pulls his stack of paper from the nearby cupboard that he left it on. "We're trying to leave you to- well, you know, develop as much as you can by yourself," Tanner says, and you roll your eyes because you've heard that so many times. "Once your ankle is cleared, we- we'll check out how your eye is healing, and then you'll be good to leave as you want- with exceptions, of course-"

The door shoves open, and you straighten up when you see Levi. He's got a hangar with a black jacket hanging over it. He raises an irritated eyebrow at Tanner. "You're still here?"

"Well- well, it's her evening check up," Tanner says uncertainly. "Still."

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. You shoot him a half-hearted glare. It's the first time you've seen him since he brought you tea two weeks ago. "This is yours," he says, holding out the jacket. He walks over to the side of your room and hooks the hangar onto the chair. "Thought you should have it."

You perk up. "Pass it," you urge, holding out your hands.

He pulls it off the hangar and hands it to you. You cradle the fabric into your chest. It's a nice coat- soft, warm material with a firm outer layer. It smells nice. "You wore this everywhere," Levi says, backing away.

"Thanks," you murmur.

He turns his gaze sideways at Tanner. "So you've told her?"

"I was about to," he defends.

"Tell me what?" you ask.

Levi turns back to you. "That you're staying here."

You stiffen, twisting your fingers into the fabric of the jacket that apparently belongs to you. "What? But I thought-"

"You don't have anywhere else to go," he says, cutting you off, and you pause. What's he talking about? "No one knows if you have family. You're not rejoining the scouts. You've got nowhere else to stay. Erwin arranged for you to stay in the hospital room as long as there's availability."

Tanner gulps. "What he said."

"Oh," you say lowly. Unfortunately, that makes sense.

There's an uncomfortable silence that follows. Levi starts towards the door. You don't try to stop him this time; no matter what you say, he's not going to give you anything useful. But at the last second, he pauses, his hand on the doorknob. Tanner stands up with his papers, ready to make his leave. Levi opens the door for him and the assistant skitters out without a look back.

Before he leaves, Levi turns back to you. "You've got a scar," he says. "On your right side, just above your hip."

You drop your jacket like a stone into your lap and shove down the sheet that's covering you. You grab the edge of the shirt you're wearing and pull it up to your midsection. Yes, you'd taken a look at yourself since you'd woken up, but you had dozens of scars everywhere. This one you remember. It's an angry red slit angled over your hip, in line with your naval. "You know how I got it?" you ask eagerly.

Levi nods. "Yeah."

"How?"

"I stabbed you."

You blink. "You what?"

With one last look, Levi closes the door, leaving you alone in your room. "Levi!" you yell in frustration, swinging your legs over the bed. You stand up shakily and step towards the door, using the bed for support. Your ankle feels fine, so you put a bit of extra weight on it as you lunge for the door.

You pull the knob. Locked.

How can that asshole just leave you with that?

You slam a fist on the door. "Levi!" you shout angrily. No response, no footsteps. That fucking asshole. You hit the door one more time, gritting your teeth. "Asshole," you snarl, but the venom is dripping out of you. You don't feel angry anymore- just upset. "Asshole," you mutter again, and your hands drop away from the door.

You pad back to your bed, fuming, and seize your jacket again. It's a nice coat- good to know you had a sense of style- and it has a few zippered pockets. Curiously, you start digging through.

The outer pockets reveal a few elastic bands, maybe for tying up hair, and a few folded up napkins. There's one secret pocket in the lining of the jacket, so small that you nearly miss it. You unzip it and pull out a charm hanging on a cord. It's a necklace.

"What the heck," you mutter, holding up the pendant. It looks like a triangle framed by a circle.

It doesn't cause any new memories to appear, nor do you recognize it from anything, so you slide it back into its pocket and keep exploring. The last pocket you go through is the most promising: there's two metal rods with weird hook patterns on the end. Frowning, you hold them up, turning them over in your hands. What were these for?

Something from Levi's first visit comes back to you. Thief. One of his words had been thief.

Your head snaps up to the door. You stumble back towards the door, hands practically vibrating in excitement. Were these tools to pick a lock? That seems like a common tool for thieves, right? You lean down towards the lock, looking from your tools to the doorknob.

...How do you do this?

With a sigh, you set your tools inside the lock and let your eyes flutter shut. Maybe your autopilot can figure this out. One of the things Tanner yammers on about is skills, you muse to yourself as you hands aimlessly fiddle with the tools. Skills aren't supposed to leave you, but you forget how you learned them or who taught you. So it's probable that you're just as skilled as before, which would be nice if you knew what you were skilled at-

There's a click.

"No way," you whisper. Hesitantly, you take the knob and turn it. It opens.

You stifle a triumphant laugh. You did it! You picked a lock. Holy shit, you picked a lock. Did Levi know? Did he know your tools were in your jacket and did he think you'd manage to get out? Head spinning, you head back over to your bed and slide on the hospital slippers, then pull your coat over your shoulders. You tuck the tools back into your pocket and zip it shut.

Carefully, you pull the door open and peer into the hall. There's a window to your left, but it's about as useless as the window in your hospital room: no way of being opened and the only thing it shows is the side of another building. You can see how dark it is outside, at the very least. Where can you go?

Quietly, you tiptoe down the hallway, listening for other footsteps. You pass the bathroom and continue on, trying to figure out if you're excited or nervous. "Where to?" you murmur, fingers resting lightly on the walls.

You turn a corner and see another window. Excited, you lightly jog over to see if the view on this side of the building is any better.

It is. Oh, is it ever.

Buildings, much smaller than the one you're in now, stretch out across the landscape. It looks like you're on the second floor, which gives you a great vantage point over top of the other houses. The streets are lit with lanterns, and you see a few people wandering around. Far off in the distance is a wall, and it's much bigger than what you imagined. When you heard that your area was surrounded by walls, you hadn't imagined them to be so high.

But the best part is the sky. It's clear and dotted with tiny stars, scattered across in a seemingly random formation. It's beautiful.

You're possessed with a sudden urge to go up to the roof. You prod the edge of the window. Can this one open? Yes it can, you realize with glee, but it's locked. You unzip your pocket again and pull out your tools, then let your hands do the work. It seems to work better when you shut your eyes, so you let your eyelids flutter close.

Sure enough, you can feel the second the lock opens. "Hell yes," you whisper to yourself, tucking your tools back into your pocket. You push the window open. It's big enough for you to get out of.

You turn with your back to the window and stick your head out. How tall is the building? You beam when you realize it's only two floors. You reach your hands up for a ridge and pull yourself up so that you're sitting on the windowsill, most of your body hanging out of the building. The cold night air is more refreshing than it is nasty; you'd take being cold in a heartbeat if it meant you could get up on the roof.

"You're supposed to be in your room."

You initially freeze up, but you recognize the voice. "Then you shouldn't have given me my jacket," you say without looking inside.

There's a scoff. "What do you think you're doing?"

Finally, you duck your head back into the window, keeping a tight grip on the outside ridge. Levi is glaring at you, arms crossed. He's still wearing the black pants and grey jacket from earlier when he stopped by your room. "I'm going up to the roof," you say confidently.

Levi stays quiet for a minute, studying you. Then, he sighs. "There's easier ways, dumbass."

"I don't care," you say stubbornly, putting yourself back out the window. You bring your feet up to the window ledge, wishing you had better footwear than some flimsy slippers that don't even fit you properly. You shove yourself up, then glare up at the roof. This may be harder than you thought.

"You idiot. Move over."

Frowning, you slide sideways, and Levi squeezes out of the window next to you. He swings himself up onto the roof like he's done it a dozen times before, and you can't help but let your jaw slip open in surprise. He holds out a hand, and after shooting him an annoyed scowl, you mimic his movements and get yourself onto the roof. You're not quite as elegant as him, but you get up nonetheless.

Levi rolls his eyes. "Stubborn brat."

You ignore him and walk up to the top of the roof, gaping at the view. Behind you is the wall, but in front of you now is an endless amount of houses, shops, and other larger structures. It's incredible. You sit yourself down and turn up to the stars. They're even more beautiful than they were from inside. "Wow," you whisper, unable to stop the smile from stretching across your face.

You glance at Levi, but he's staring at you. "What?" you say with a raised eyebrow.

He doesn't reply. He walks up the roof until he's at the same level as you and sits down, several feet away. You pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders, shivering. Levi looks up at the stars, lips pinched together. "What do you think?" he muses.

You think for a moment. "It's cold," you reply honestly.

"I can't control the weather," he shoots back.

"I'm in this stupid hospital get up, cut me a break." You both sit in silence, surveying the stars. One particularly bright one seems to blink at you. "You knew I'd pick the lock," you say eventually.

Levi doesn't say anything.

"That's why you gave me the jacket," you continue, frowning. "To see if I'd figure it out."

When he finally speaks up, his voice is quiet. "There wasn't a place you couldn't get into," Levi says.

"So I was a thief?"

"Of sorts."

"You're not very helpful," you mutter, turning back up to the sky.

Levi scoffs, but he starts talking again, so you stay quiet. "We met underground," he says, and you recall your conversation with Erwin a month ago where he talked about how he recruited the both of you from underground. "Two years ago."

"And you stabbed me," you say.

"You took something I needed for a job," Levi says casually. "And you were harder to deal with than I anticipated." He tugs down the collar of the black shirt he's wearing, and you see a slash across his collar bone. "You gave me this."

For some reason, you feel awfully pleased with yourself. "Oh." Your smug smile eventually drops. "Erwin said we were friends, though."

Levi snorts. "I tolerated you at best."

There's another moment of silence. The frustration that's been gradually building up in you since you first met Levi is what pushes you to ask, "why won't you help me remember?" When he doesn't reply, you cross your arms. "Is there- is there something you don't want me to know? Something personal?"

"I want you to remember," he says. "I don't know as much as you think I do."

"You've known me for at least two years," you urge, twisting so that you can face him. His head is still tipped up to the sky. "That's more than anyone else I've met. You're my best option. Look, I get it, it might be annoying but-"

"You don't," Levi snaps, cocking his head to look at you. "You don't get it."

You furrow your eyebrows. What the hell does he even mean by that? "Levi, I woke up with nothing," you say desperately, "and you're the only one that seems to know anything about me. I get it, it's awful."

He glares. "No, you don't."

"Fine! What don't I get?" you snap.

"You were dead!" Levi retorts, pushing himself up to his feet. You don't stand, instead choosing to glare up at him. "All three of you," he berates angrily, hands clenched into fists, "were dead! And it was my-"

He growls, cutting himself off. Levi rakes a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I'm not dead-" you start.

"You may as well be!" he hisses, and your blood runs cold.

The silence that follows is hollow and threatens to suffocate you. You twist your fingers into your shirt, torn between being angry and being upset. You'd never really considered how Levi was feeling. You'd assumed he'd be happy: he thought you were dead, you were in a coma, and you eventually woke up. Even with no memories, that ought to be better than nothing... right?

Maybe not. Your heart sinks in your chest. You try to imagine being friends- sorry, acquaintances- with someone for a few years and then seeing them lose all of their memories, but it's sort of hard to think of when you have no close friends to imagine that sort of scenario with.

It feels like Levi is blaming you, though- blaming you for something you had no control over. "It's not my fault I have amnesia," you say with a glare.

"No, it's mine," Levi shoots back.

"What, did you hit me over the head?" you argue, pinching yourself in the arm as a reminder to control your temper. He doesn't reply, so you assume the answer's a no. "Then it's not your fault. I'll get my memories back-"

"Have you?" he says bitterly, his hands dropping by his sides. "Have you gotten any yet?"

You purse your lips, choosing not to reply.

That's answer enough for him. Levi walks back down the roof, and without so much of a glance back at you, swings over the edge of the roof and out of sight. Presumably, he's headed back inside.

You sit outside under the stars for another ten minutes before you go back to your room, head spinning and heart sinking.