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Pieck had the same dream every night for the past week. Where Hange was burned, about to burn, or still on fire.
When the news came through that there was a body that resembled the former commander, Hange Zoe, she collapsed. There was no way anyone would be able to survive what Hange went through. The steam released from the Wall titans should have cremated them, not to mention being crushed under their weight afterward. Either way, Hange was meant to die.
The drive to the hospital was the longest car ride of Pieck’s life. The hospital Hange was admitted into was in an unfamiliar city, being one of the few that hadn’t been crushed under the weight of thousands of titans. They asked Pieck to come as soon as possible. She was Hange’s next of kin, and someone had to identify the body to see if it was Hange Zoe they had recovered.
The body lay in front of her covered in bandages, a ventilator running down into their lungs to help them breathe. Being asked to distinguish a body is a cruel task. It was near unrecognisable, completely covered with burns, the degree of which varied. Third degree on their arms, second degree on their back. Anything fourth-degree was removed surgically. Luckily for this person, they were able to keep their limbs.
Once you’ve been with someone so long though, you know them like the back of your hand. One step into the hospital room and Pieck knew it was Hange in front of them. She gently pried apart their eyelids, just to make sure it was them. She was in denial. She saw them fall and watched as they were crushed into the earth. Not even a Titan Shifter could survive that kind of damage. As the eyelids opened, the chocolate brown eyes she fell in love with stared back at her. It was true. The 14th Commander of the Survey Corps went up against the Wall Titans and would live to tell the tale.
Every day, Pieck would wake up in a chair next to Hange’s bed in the ICU. And every night, she would fall asleep in the same chair. No matter how many times the other ambassadors would ask Pieck to join them for meetings, she declined, spending all her time next to Hange. With her head resting on the mattress, hand touching Hange’s, she would have the same dream. Where Hange was burned, about to burn.
Hange was still on fire.
Pieck’s focus was trained on her partner, only faltering if the monitors Hange was hooked up to made an unfamiliar noise. Even the slightest change would cause her anxiety to rise. Were they dying, or were they close to waking up? The wait was unbearable. She would sing to them, tell them stories about her time as a Warrior, anything to fill the silence. Holding their bandaged hand, she placed the gentlest of kisses on what would be their knuckles, praying to whatever God would listen to keep Hange alive.
Hange would remain in a coma for 2 more weeks, the most severe burns being removed and replaced with skin grafts. Pieck remained by their side throughout, walking next to their bed to the theatre and back after every operation. Every day would be a new challenge for them. Fighting infections, pneumonia, and respiratory failure. Pieck couldn’t help but wonder, is she being selfish for keeping Hange alive?
They aren’t even conscious yet and they’re already suffering so much. They’ll wake up and be in pain, the amount of time they’ll have to stay in the hospital until they can be discharged is unknown but would undoubtedly be a while. The physiotherapy needed would also be intense, not to mention the psychological damage. Maybe it would have been in Hange’s best interest to let them go.
Pieck didn’t realise she was crying until her tears dropped onto her hands. Wiping her eyes quickly, she looked up at Hange, her heartwarming as she saw the steady movements of their chest. She shook her previous thoughts out of her head, their time here isn’t done. Hange survived because the fire inside them was stronger than the one that burned them.
Pieck remembers the morning well. The sky was overcast, there was a slight breeze outside which she noticed while watching the leaves dance on the sidewalk. There was predicted to be rain later that evening, and the junction near the local high school was shut for maintenance.
And Hange Zoe woke up from their coma.
Waking up from a coma is not like you see in the movies, Pieck had now learned. Someone in a coma won’t wake up and immediately be able to talk and be alert of their surroundings. They might wake up for a few minutes but then fall back asleep. This will happen a few times until they become fully aware.
When Hange’s eyes fluttered open, they were too lethargic to think, almost immediately dozing back to sleep. The second time they awoke, they could think a bit more clearly. Where were they? What happened? Are they dead? Their ears were covered in bandages, and their eyes were still adjusting to the light. They could hear noises, but couldn’t make out what they were or who they were coming from. The white light was intense, causing their eyes to water as they tried to focus on the figures.
Then came the pain. When you burn yourself, the more severe the burn, the less pain you’ll feel. This is because the burn has damaged the nervous system, so you’ll be unable to feel much in those areas.
Patches of Hange’s arms, legs, and torso were almost numb, just some pressure where the bandages were. They felt nervous at the fact they couldn’t feel much. How much of them was damaged? It took them a full minute to register the pain that was coming from the rest of their body. Their face, hands, and back. Everywhere. Their skin was red and blistered, they could feel how swollen it all was without even moving.
That numbing feeling they felt before was now a lost memory they craved to feel again. They wanted to scream, rip off their skin, anything to take the pain away. Hange tried to focus on the figure in front of them, moving their body where they could to run from the pain, only making the feeling more intense. A handlike shape came towards their face, hovering over their bandages to find the best place to touch.
They could feel some pressure when the hand made contact with their cheek. Surprisingly, the pain Hange felt began to dissipate with the person's gentle caresses. Maybe they weren’t in hell, whoever this was must be an Angel. The love poured out from their hands and into Hange, taking the pain away and filling them with tranquillity. They used all their energy to focus, trying to see or hear something from whoever was comforting them.
“It’s okay Hange. It’s okay baby, I’m right here”.
Their wife. Their Angel. Pieck Finger. They wanted to say something to her. To scream or cry out, anything to get the pain they were feeling out of their body. Hange tried to call out her name, but could just barely pronounce the letter ‘P’ before Pieck quickly shushed them, her hand continuing to stroke their cheek.
“Shh, save your energy my love. I’m not going anywhere”.
She was trembling as she spoke to them, her voice wavering with each word. Hange had no idea how long they’d been here, or how long Pieck had been sitting with them. They became overwhelmed, all the pain and questions in their head becoming too much for them as exhaustion kicked in, sending them back to sleep within seconds.
Once Hange was able to stay conscious, the hospital started working on physiotherapy almost immediately. They would have to get used to moving around in their ‘new skin’ and prevent the scars from tightening up. The amount of muscle mass Hange lost was extreme. They could barely lift their legs while they were lying down.
They began building up muscle while they were still in bed by doing some cycling exercises with the nurses. Once they mastered that, they worked on moving from a seated to a standing position, then slowly taking steps while being held up by Pieck and the nurses.
It was more of a shuffle, their legs felt too heavy to take big steps, and the tightness of the scars kept them from stretching too much. But with every step made, a big cheer came from the team supporting Hange. Their relentlessness was paying off, recovering much faster than anyone at the unit thought possible.
Fixing physical scars are much easier to fix than mental ones. The doctors would ask Hange where it would hurt, and they would give them pain relief. Easy as that. Asking them to stop vivid flashbacks of being burnt, however, was not something medication could take away.
Hange was trying their best to be strong, not letting anyone but Pieck see their weaker moments. But they could only be strong for so long. While the rest of the world would sleep, Hange remained awake, never daring to shut their eyes for a second. Every time they would, they were transported back to that place.
The place where they were burned, about to burn, or still on fire. Hange thought by not even thinking about the incident, they would forget and move on. But here they were, staring up at the ceiling, fighting sleep for yet another night.
Pieck had been asleep for a while now, still holding Hange’s hand as the night passed by. Looking at her, Hange’s heart began to swell. Since their body was recovered, Pieck hadn’t left Hange’s side, the longest time away being 20 minutes while she had a good shower. Her acts of love towards them were never-ending. They couldn’t believe how lucky they were.
The night was warm, a bit too warm for Hange as they started to feel the sweat drip down their forehead. Having burn injuries in the middle of summer was torture, even the slightest heat increase could trigger them into a spiral that was near impossible to get out of. Their hands began to shake as they thought back to that day. Walking towards certain death, the deafening sounds of the Titans' feet against the floor. The wave of that heat would hit them as they became closer. Just like Icarus, they would fly up toward the sun.
And just like Icarus, they would fall to their death.
They covered their mouth with their free hand, biting down on the bandage to try and prevent any noise from escaping. They felt bad enough that Pieck was sleeping uncomfortably, waking her up wouldn't be fair. But Pieck had become a lighter sleeper since staying in the hospital, waking up as soon as Hange’s breathing became ragged. She tightened her grip on their hand as she quickly rose to inspect them. The worry on her face was evident despite the sleep that remained in her eyes.
‘Hange? What happened? Should I get a nurse?’ Pieck asked Hange rapidly. This wouldn’t be the first time Hange had woken up in pain during the night, and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Hange gave her a watery smile back, squeezing her hand to try and calm her concerns.
"I’m fine, my love. Don’t worry about it". Hange could barely respond, words coming out shaky in between panicked breaths.
It took one look at Hange to know they weren’t doing too well. Pieck hated how Hange would bottle up their emotions, knowing if they continued like this it would make them sick. She didn’t want to pressure them into telling her what was wrong though, that would probably make the situation worse. But she had to make sure they knew she was there for them, no matter how many times she had to repeat herself.
“Baby, you know I love you, and you can tell me anything that's on your mind, right? Even if you think it’s silly.”
“Yes, always.”
“Listen, what happened to you was traumatic. Nobody would be fine in your shoes right now, and nobody is expecting you to be,” Hange’s face lowered. Pieck guided their chin upwards, looking them in the eye as she continued.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but there’s no need to be brave. It’s just us here, I’ll be brave for the both of us, okay?” Hange nodded, tears threatening to spill from their eyes. The damage on their face was pretty severe, they still hadn’t looked in the mirror weeks after waking up. Pieck gently wiped their eyes with a tissue, scared to put too much pressure and cause pain.
Pieck climbed into bed with Hange and began stroking what was left of their hair, coaxing them to sleep as she lay next to them. For the first time in weeks, Hange felt safe, the gentleness of Pieck’s presence is enough to calm their nerves and send them into a peaceful sleep.
Hange was allowed to go home 4 months after their original admission to the hospital. The doctor gave them the rundown on how to change the dressings, how tight they had to be and what to do for pain relief. They were also given schedules of appointments they were required to go to, ranging from physiotherapy to sessions back at the burns unit.
Although their muscles improved over time, it was still a challenge for them to walk. Pieck arranged their house to be more accessible for Hange, buying multiple mobility aids for them and rearranging furniture to have more space. Reiner helped build a ramp to reach their front door in case Hange was required to use a wheelchair. The whole community came together to make this transition easier for both Pieck and Hange as a way of thanking them for their part in stopping the rumbling.
Being wheeled away from the hospital and towards Pieck’s car, Hange felt the breeze on their skin for the first time since that day.
When Hange arrived home, they asked Pieck to do one thing for them: cover all the mirrors in the house. Pieck was taken back at this request, crouching down next to Hange to look up at them. Their eyes were cold, brows furrowing as they got lost in their thoughts.
They had seen their arms and legs, but not much more than that. Their body was covered in bandages most of the time, so each time they saw their new ‘skin’, their reaction was just like the first time. Shock, panic, and then disgust. They could barely look at their face. It took them weeks after waking up to finally agree to even hold the hand mirror offered to them, let alone look in it.
That first look in the mirror. Hange had always said inner beauty is what counts, but they would be lying if they said they didn’t care about their appearance. The nurses had asked if they wanted to see their face, but they always declined. The thought of their appearance tormented them, no matter how many times Pieck would tell them how beautiful they were.
After weeks, they finally gave in. They would have to look at themselves at some point. Holding the hand mirror, they hesitantly brought it up to level with their face, bracing themselves for what was staring back at them.
Their reaction was delayed, unable to process what they were witnessing. It took a few seconds before Hange let out a scream, dropping the mirror in shock. With their head in their hands, they sobbed for hours, refusing to let anyone look at their face. They hated how their eye looked after the explosion at Shiganshina, but at least they could wear an eyepatch then. How could they cover their entire face? They were horrified thinking about all the people who had seen them since being in the hospital. How they must have felt seeing someone so… disgusting.
Pieck held them as they cried, rubbing their back as Hange continued to beat themselves up with vicious words. She knew no matter what she said, there was nothing that could take away how Hange felt. So instead, she was there. Holding them as they cried, reminding them to breathe when their lungs wouldn’t let them. Resting her head against their back, she didn’t look at them until they cried themselves to sleep.
Pieck wasn’t surprised that Hange wanted all the mirrors covered, but the thought of them hating their reflection that much brought tears to her eyes. Nevertheless, she complied with their request. She walked through the entire house, taking down mirrors and covering them up with blankets, only keeping one in her bedside drawer in case she ever needed one.
Even with no mirrors to remind them of their appearance, Hange was obsessed with their outer appearance, scared to let anyone catch a glimpse of the scars covering their body. They would stay hidden under the covers of their bed for hours, ignoring how the fabric of the duvet hurt their skin. They didn’t want anyone to see them, including their wife.
The dressings covering Hange’s body had to be changed daily while having baths would happen every few days. Hange hated having their bandages changed. They knew it was helping them, but the feeling of peeling them off felt like their skin was being ripped off with it. The tightness of the fresh dressings was an unwelcome sensation too, making them feel trapped and unable to breathe. When they were in the hospital, baths were done twice a day to prevent any infection. They would take medication to ease the pain before they went in, but it was still excruciating. They felt so vulnerable, unable to do the most basic of tasks alone, their scars exposed for all to see.
When the time came for Hange to have their bath, Pieck would begin running the water, checking that the temperature was mild to not hurt their skin. She would add any medications to the water before grabbing all the necessary soaps and dressings and lining them up near the bathtub.
Getting Hange out of bed was becoming increasingly harder as they spiralled into a deeper pit of self-hatred with each passing minute. Sometimes Pieck would stay in bed with them, watching how their partner would barely move, scared to look her in the eye. They looked broken. Although they would hesitate, Hange knew the importance of fresh bandages. They would get in the bath before quickly dissociating until they were back in their bed, letting Pieck clean and wrap them up as they stared into open space.
“Hange? Are you awake?” Pieck pulled down the duvet slightly to be met with Hange’s eyes peeking out the top. They were laying on their side, eyes staring straight ahead. "Your bath is ready. Let’s get you in before it gets too cold".
After helping Hange up, she guided them to the bathroom, stripping them of the clothing they were wearing. Hange held onto Pieck tightly as they slowly lifted their legs one by one, sharply inhaling as their skin made contact with the water, before fully sitting down in the bathtub.
Pieck would then remove the bandages and wash Hange’s entire body, making sure all the dead skin was removed and the skin grafts were clean. Hange would cry out, begging Pieck to stop, but their screaming would be in vain. Before every bath, Hange would tell her no matter how much they cried, she needed to ignore them and continue. And although Pieck hated seeing Hange cry, she knew she had to clean them properly so they could heal. That never stopped the tears running down her face as she heard them cry in pain.
Hange would usually calm down when Pieck stops scrubbing, the water would begin to soothe their pain and help them relax. This time, however, Hange did not stop crying. Burying their face into the crook of their elbow, they pulled up their knees towards their chest, trying to make themselves smaller as their heavy sobs echoed in the bathroom.
“Shit, did I scrub too hard? Baby, I’m so sorry,” She traced their back soothingly as she examined their body, checking for any new signs of damage. The thought she might have hurt them was killing her.
“No… You could never hurt me, Pieck”. Hange sounded so small as they replied to her.
Silence fell among the two. Only the slight movements of the water could be heard.
Hange was the first to break it.
“I’m so disgusting.”
The bluntness took Pieck off guard. Hange never spoke about their appearance and their scars, so the sudden confession left Pieck in shock.
Shaking her head, she ran her hand through Hange’s hair before pulling their head towards her, placing a kiss on their forehead.
“Hange, please don’t say that. You’re so beautiful, both inside and out.”
“Stop it. I’m so ugly, Pieck.” The feelings Hange had bottled up for so long were being released with the tears that poured down their face. “My face is so fucked up, how can anyone look at me without getting scared. And my arms, legs, everything. Nothing is ‘normal’ anymore. I feel like a monster.’’
Pieck wiped her eyes as she listened to Hange, wishing she could take away all their pain. If only they could see themselves how she saw them.
“Hange, I won’t have you speak about yourself that way.” Cupping their face, Pieck used her thumb to wipe away the tears under their eyes before giving them another kiss. “The days I thought you were dead were the worst ones of my life. I love you so much. More than anything. Your looks, your personality, everything. That’s what makes you, you . And that includes your scars.”
“Pieck… I’m worried that you won’t love me anymore. I don’t want to burden you with all of this.”
“Oh baby, nothing could ever stop me from loving you”.
It took a while of talking, but Pieck was able to pull a small smile out of Hange. The first one since they woke up. Seeing the slight upturn of their lips filled her heart with the relief she had been desperate for. While washing their hair, Pieck continued to tell Hange all the things she loved about them before rinsing out the shampoo. She dried them off with care, making sure to be delicate with their skin before applying lotion to their entire body and wrapping them up in fresh bandages.
With both of their hearts feeling a little lighter, the couple headed off to bed. Lying down, they faced each other with their foreheads pressed and hands intertwined, falling asleep to the gentle sounds of each other's breathing.
Just as how physical recovery comes in stages, psychological needs differ over time as well. At first, Hange was elated when they were told they could go home, only for that feeling to crumble down almost immediately after leaving the hospital. They didn’t expect the stares they would get, how food doesn’t taste the same anymore. The pain that doing simple things like moving would cause.
Hange was already an anxious person. They weren’t always like that though, once being described as the crazy fun-loving titan doctor. After the Battle of Shiganshina, they struggled to come to terms with the people they lost, and their new role as Commander. The nightmares would keep them up for days at a time. If you put too much pressure on something, it’ll break. They were tired, but there was always more work to do.
Pieck figured that’s why they insisted they stay behind to stop the Colossal Titans. They were tired.
Hange began having flashbacks the same day they woke up from their coma. Too tired to react, they would silently cry as they relived the experience over and over again until they finally fell asleep. The pain was unbearable, feeling like their entire body was being engulfed in flames once more. Flashbacks, nightmares, memories. Every day, Hange would be reminded how they were burned.
They wouldn’t be able to recall the main features of the event if you asked them. They don’t remember what they were wearing, who was there, or what they saw. What they do remember was what they felt. The feeling of hot steam against their skin as their body caught on fire. The feeling of falling from the sky and hitting the hard earth below them. How their bones crunched as the Colossal Titans stepped on them.
It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t they given enough? All they wanted was to be free from the pain and pressure of being Commander. If they were tired before, they are exhausted now. Unable to forget, unable to move. Their body would be in too much pain to do things they once enjoyed. This was suffering, and Hange felt like they deserved it all.
The night was quiet as Hange and Pieck slept in their bed, the only thing audible was the soft sound of their breath. Pieck’s arm was lightly placed over Hange’s torso. She was still wary of putting too much pressure on them even in her sleep. The temperature in the room was chill, so why was Hange feeling like they were still on fire?
In their dream, they were there. Flying over the colossal titans as their body caught on fire. They didn’t even reach the floor before they were violently pulled out of their dream, hearing the blood-curdling screams that flooded their bedroom. It sounded so desperate, the pain wracked in the screams was clear as day. They wondered who it was coming from, but it should be obvious by now. The one screaming was Hange.
Their body went stiff, the feeling of the flames consumed them and left their muscles rigid. They wanted to take their clothes off, to rip their skin from their bones so the heat could dissipate, but all they could manage was scream.
Pieck was up in a flash, immediately running to turn the lights on before assessing the situation. She pulled the duvet off Hange before holding their face in her hands as she panicked.
"Hange?! Hange, look at me. What happened?" Pieck could barely breathe. A combination of being woken abruptly and seeing her love in such a state caused the air to be sucked out of her lungs.
Hange could barely formulate words, their body in too much pain to allow them to speak.
"Burning…. Stop…" Hange managed to move their hands to their face, digging their nails into their cheeks as they dragged their fingers down, leaving a trail of blood running down to their chin. They were left with no rational thoughts, and the stress put on their body and mental state was enormous.
Pieck grabbed Hange’s hands and pulled them away from their face, jumping at the cry Hange let out when she made contact with their skin. Her tears were freely falling now, unable to take away the pain Hange was feeling. She cupped their cheek, using her other hand to wipe away the hair that stuck to their face.
"Breathe with me, Baby. In, and out," Pieck tried to get Hange to sync their breathing with hers, but they couldn’t concentrate under the feeling of agony. "Should I call an ambulance?"
Hange quickly shook their head, curling into themselves more as the pain intensified. No matter how bad it became, Hange never wanted to be in a hospital again. The memories of the long, painful nights tormented them. They were determined to never enter one again.
Hange grabbed onto Pieck’s shirt, their grip tight and eyes screwed shut as they tried to ride out the waves of pain. Pieck placed a tender hand on Hange’s arm, watching as their muscles seized up under the severe pain.
They were unable to move, speak, or breathe. The only thing Hange could feel was pain. Their skin felt like it was being set on fire, their bones aching as they remembered the crush.
“Help me.
Please, help me.
It burns, it hurts so bad. Please, do something.”
Hange begged for someone, anyone, to take their pain away. The words swirled around their head but were unable to leave their mouth, their throat closing whenever they tried to speak.
Climbing onto the bed, Pieck hesitated before she softly moved Hange towards her and cradled them, making sure they would be able to hear her heartbeat. Despite being gentle, Hange wailed as they moved, before collapsing into Pieck and stifling their cries into her chest.
Pieck apologised and kissed their forehead, holding Hange as if she was soothing an infant, rocking back and forward in an attempt to calm them. Hange surrendered to the pain, going completely limp in Pieck’s arms as their chest heaved with heart-shattering cries, their entire body shaking as the familiar feeling of burning tormented them.
Pieck could just about make out what Hange was saying as they cried into her chest.
"I want to die. I want to die, Pieck".
They repeated it as if it were a mantra. "I want to die". Pieck rubbed gentle circles on Hange’s back, burying her face into the crown of their head.
"You are so strong, my love. I’m not going to leave you, okay? You’ve come so far and I’m so proud of you. I know we’re not out of the tunnel yet, but I promise you there’s an end."
Hange’s cries died down to an occasional whimper as they lay in Pieck’s arms. Their voice became strained over time, they were too exhausted to yell anymore. The tears still ran freely down their face with no sign of stopping.
Pieck would gently caress their face, comforting them with a light touch and words of support against their ear, quiet enough for just them to hear.
“You’re okay, I’m here. You’re safe, my love”.
Her breath against their face, her skin against theirs. With Pieck holding them, Hange felt safe, knowing that she would be there for them. Despite the lingering pain, they were able to fall asleep a few hours later.
Looking out the window, Pieck could see the sun beginning to rise. She shuffled back to the headboard with Hange still in her arms, pulling a light blanket around both of them. Even as Hange slept, Pieck would stay awake, afraid they would wake up in pain again, or something would happen to them during the night.
She traced her finger over their facial features, smiling as the creases in their forehead softened as they fell deeper into sleep. She wanted to cry, to curse anyone who had hurt Hange and caused them pain. She missed her silly partner, the person who wouldn’t leave a room without making sure everyone smiled at least once. She hated how the world treated them, how it treated both of them. At least now, they could try to live together in peace.
Pieck was pulled out of her thoughts as Hange began to stir, crying out in their sleep from the pain that still bothered them, even in their dreams. She tightened her hold on them, resting her forehead against theirs.
"You’re okay, baby. I’m right here, I got you".
The comfort seems to reach Hange as they sleep, slowly calming down and resuming sleep undisturbed.
When Hange would wake up, they would still be in Pieck’s arms. The first thing they would see when they open their eye is Pieck’s staring back down at them, full of love and adoration.
Every day Hange would wake up in pain. And every day they would look at their wife and remind themselves why they keep going. Despite all the ups and downs, the long journey they had in front of them. With Pieck with them, nothing would ever be too hard.
"Good Morning, my lovely. How are you feeling?" Pieck asked in a hushed tone.
Looking up at her, Hange was sure now. They weren’t alone, they were safe, and they were loved.
"Happy. I feel happy."
They have Pieck.