Eren was beside her, still unconscious.
Footsteps moved away, then paused.
She held her breath.
One of the kidnappers spoke, voice muffled by the wood.
"...something going on in the city. Saw Military Police taking positions near the outer zone. Like they're watching the alleys—"
"—heard it too. Something's off. Some noble brat missing?"
Then laughter. The sound trailed off as their voices disappeared into the distance.
Mikasa leaned back slowly against the wall, letting her head rest.
She closed her eyes. But she didn't cry again.
There was no point. No one would come through the door just because she cried.
Not Eren. Not her mother.
And not Kiyotaka.
But maybe—
He would come.
Not because he cared. Not in the way normal people do.
But because he'd spent too long building her back up to let her collapse now.
And if he didn't come?
Then maybe she'd deserve that, too.
So she sat there. 
Or... slumped. 
It didn't matter.
She stared blankly up at the ceiling—rough wooden beams that creaked every time someone walked overhead. The oil lamp flickered, casting the same lazy shadows across the walls repeatedly.
Time passed. 
She didn't measure it.
Her wrists burned. Her arms ached. 
Her thoughts refused to stop looping.
Then... a noise.
Shuffling. A breath. A groan.
She blinked and turned her head slightly.
Eren was awake.
He blinked slowly, his vision adjusting. His eyes found hers, squinting. 
"Mikasa?"
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
"Where... where are we?" His voice cracked. He winced as he pushed himself up against the wall. The ropes dug into his arms. "What happened?"
She just stared at him.
He looked around, eyes scanning the crates, the low ceiling, the lack of windows. 
"Where's my mom?" he asked, suddenly more alert. "Where is she? What happened back there?"
Still, Mikasa said nothing.
"Mikasa." He frowned. "Answer me!"
She flinched.
Eren's eyes widened. He looked away, lips pressing together like he wanted to take the words back. 
"Sorry. I didn't mean to..."
He sighed, and then muttered, "We failed."
Failed.
We? That word scratched at something.
He'd fought. Screamed. Bled. She had frozen. She failed. She failed him. She failed her mom. She failed everyone.