Erich seats himself at his desk, Alexis still practically glued to his side, and takes a moment to clear the paperwork away as best he can with only one hand. He’s not about to pry his other hand free, not when he’s still soaking up her presence, but it does make things… difficult.

Alexis helps with her free hand, and together they mostly clear things away. It’s not in the neatest of piles, but he can fix that later.

(Or just spread them all back out again.)

(Which is what will probably end up happening.)

“Here, sir, ma’am,” Tanya says as she sets a coffee pot and several mugs on the newly cleared area of his desk, then sets up an extra camp chair across from them. “I’m afraid it isn’t much, ma’am, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s not a problem, Colonel Degurechaff,” Alexis answers as she reaches out and lifts the pot, carefully pouring some coffee into all three mugs. She pushes one towards Degurechaff then lifts her own and takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the taste. “No wonder you’ve decided you hate coffee, love, if this is what they give you.”

Erich snorts and lifts his own mug, cradling it against his chest for the warmth more than anything. “Tea is a vastly superior drink, you heathen,” he tells Alexis dryly, not missing the flash of amusement in Degurechaff’s gaze at his words.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir,” she says almost archly, then hums and looks between them, gaze lingering on the way their shoulders and arms are pressed together. He can see the questions beginning to bubble up, but she drops her gaze and takes a drink, and when she looks at them again it’s all tucked away behind her professional demeanor. “What’s our plan?” she asks instead.

Alexis makes a thoughtful noise, then nudges him with her shoulder and says, “Maybe you should start with filling me in.”

“Right.” Erich grimaces and takes a sip of his coffee, wondering where to even begin with the mess that’s been his life the past few days. He supposes he might as well just list it all off like he’s reporting to someone else, so—

He takes another sip of coffee. Orders his thoughts. Begins.

He tells her everything, starting from the attack that managed to wipe out a portion of their camp and most of the other officers; the moment he pulled power from both of them, the nightly visits where their unknown soulmate healed him, the murdered enemy soldiers, the discovery their soulmate is a Reaper—

“Excuse me?” Alexis hisses, interrupting his recitation. Her left hand tightens on the mug, knuckles going white as anger-fear-fury slices through their connection.

“Yes, I was quite displeased to discover that as well,” he responds, squeezing the hand he’s holding in reassurance and letting her feel the fear-terror-resignation that he’s kept inside since that first night of disturbed rest.

Degurechaff chokes on her coffee and gives him an incredulous look for his phrasing, which is fair considering everything he’s put her through the past few days.

“There were other emotions involved, of course,” Erich concedes with a faint smile, tipping his half-filled mug towards her in recognition. “Colonel Degurechaff has done a fine job of keeping me alive and the Reaper on his toes.”

“Just doing my job, sir.”

Erich arches an eyebrow at her. “I wasn’t aware your job had expanded to handling matters related to secret societies and unknown powers, Colonel.”

“My current job is keeping us all alive, sir, and that includes you,” she tells him firmly, her gaze unwavering and her determination almost tangible. “You’re our commanding officer and we can’t afford to take any more losses to our command structure.”

He bites back a scoff just in time; their command structure is the two of them, with help from Majors Weiss and Schwarz as they have time and ability. To say they can’t afford to take any more losses to their command structure is more of an understatement than him saying he was just displeased with the discovery that his other soulmate is a Reaper.

Alexis smiles at Degurechaff and inclines her head, saying, “I appreciate the job you’ve done—”

The tent flap sways and that’s all the warning Erich gets before Alexis lets go of his hand and vaults over his desk, scattering papers everywhere as her spiritual bow flares to life and an arrow is shoved under their second soulmate’s chin.

“So good to finally meet you,” she tells the Reaper, tone sickly sweet as she nudges his head back with the point of her arrow.

“Aha… I don’t quite understand you…” the Reaper says awkwardly, empty hands raised in surrender. “You have quite the reflexes, though!”

Erich sighs heavily and drains the last of his coffee, far too tired to deal with any of this at present. A tiny portion of his mind is gibbering in terror, but he shuts it out; two against one and they might even have a chance, if their soulmate finally decides to turn on them now that they’re both in one place.

(Really, he’s just too tired to waste any more energy on fear.)

Degurechaff sidles up to him, her eyes wide and her gaze constantly drifting towards Alexis’ bow. “Sir… is there… she’s… holding something, isn’t she. I can almost see… a bow?”

He hums and reaches over to grab the miraculously unspilled coffee pot to pour himself a bit more. “It’s another manifestation of the spiritual powers I told you about,” he confirms, not bothering to censor himself when Degurechaff already knows so much and is on the verge of awakening thanks to him. “I believe it’s a Quincy specialty, actually. We compress the free power in the air into the shape of a weapon and fight Hollows with it instead of physical items.”

“A bow, sir,” Degurechaff deadpans as she takes a step back, giving him room to rise to his feet.

“It’s traditional.”

“A bow, sir.”

Erich shrugs and takes a sip of coffee, stepping around the desk and moving so he can see both the Reaper and Alexis at once. He feels… calm. Detached. Peaceful.

He holds out his right hand and calls power under his control. “I’m not very traditional, if I’m being honest,” he says as he sets his mug down and raises a manifested rifle to his shoulder. “It’s much easier to keep in practice with a weapon I can be seen using without question, after all.”

Degurechaff huffs and circles around behind him, coming to stand a bit to the side where she can see everyone but isn’t standing in the path of any of their weapons. Her hand reaches up to touch her computation orb and a steady glow begins to build within it. “Why are you here?” she demands, tone bored.

“I felt—I mean, they were clearly in distress so—”

“They were talking about you being a Shinigami,” Degurechaff counters, glowering at the Reaper. “It was all very civil and calm until you decided to barge in yet again.”

The Reaper gives a nervous chuckle that cuts off as Alexis presses her arrow a bit further into the skin under his chin. “Uhm… sorry? I mean, if it helps, I’m really not a Shinigami anymore?”

“It really doesn’t,” Erich says with a small shrug, then gives up on his broken Akitsugo and says in Imperial, “You were still a member of the force that slaughtered my people down to newborn infants, without mercy or reprieve.”

Degurechaff translates that for him without being asked — he still needs to ask when she learned the language, damn — and then scowls and adds, “You clearly didn’t consider my earlier words like I told you to, if that’s the line you’re still going with.”

“I wasn’t exactly part of that action!” the Reaper protests.

“Neither was I,” Erich counters with annoyance. “It was almost a hundred years ago, but my family is still recovering from your people’s actions. Events like that leave long and deep scars on everyone who comes after, Shinigami.”

(What scars will this war create, he wonders.)

(What new hatred is being sown by their actions that will come to confront them later?)

(He dreads the day it comes due…)

The Reaper frowns as Degurechaff translates, curiosity-thought-confusion glittering in his eyes as he seems to almost… pull in on himself, becoming somehow smaller as he does.

(‘…actions of someone trained in assassination…’)

The breath hisses through his teeth and he casually adjusts his grip on his manifested rifle, focusing more strength into the bullets inside.

Alexis’ bow and arrow become more solid, spiritual power compacting until it’s almost physical.

(They’ll need all their strength if this goes sour…)

Degurechaff twitches and glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He can feel her, can feel her soul unfurling under the weight that he and Alexis are spilling into the air around them. She feels… strange to his senses; a jumble of old-young-cold logic-sharp passion that almost makes his first, fearful reaction to her return but—

But after so many years, after working alongside her for so long, turning strategies into action and victory and success he—

Can’t.

(She’s no longer the monster he fears most.)

She must sense something from him, because she flashes him a sharp, toothy grin and then turns back to the Reaper with her chin raised. “Leave,” she orders without hesitation. “We’ll talk with you another night, but for now you will leave and you will not intrude where you are not invited again.”

The Reaper watches her for a long moment and Erich tenses, waiting for  the man to take offense at the newly awoken human. Except…

The man huffs a laugh and steps back, moving away from Alexis and towards the opening of the tent, relaxing his shoulders when Alexis doesn’t follow him. “Maa, that’s quite a Lieutenant you have there. She’s a cute little spitfire!”

Degurechaff’s face twists into a snarl and rage erupts in her presence. She takes a step forward, magical power gathering around her and—

Erich moves. Takes one hand from his rifle and grips Degurechaff’s shoulder in restraint even as he glares at the Reaper. “Do not insult my subordinate,” he growls, every word carefully pronounced. “She is a Lieutenant Colonel and she earned her rank and her place at my side.”

The Reaper makes a confused noise, looking between them. “But… aren’t you her Captain?”

“He’s a Brigadier General, not a Captain!” Degurechaff snarls, practically vibrating under his hand. But she’s not fighting his grip, no matter her fury, just standing beside him like a leashed hound, waiting for him to let go.

(It’s not a terribly comforting thought.)

(And yet it is a terribly comforting thought…)

The Reaper blinks, gaze darting between them, clearly at a loss for words.

“You… do you even know what a General is?” Degurechaff asks in a strangled voice. When all the Reaper does is point at Erich and say ‘him?’, she groans. “How is your society even structured then? I had assumed you had a military, but…”

“We are,” the Reaper says, but his voice is almost a question. “There’s… there’s thirteen divisions, each led by a Captain and a Lieutenant, then eight more seated positions below, Third through Tenth Seat. Each division is independent, but each Captain ultimately answers to the Captain-Commander, who leads the First Division.”

Erich opens his mouth, searching for the words to express his horror, and comes up blank. At his side, Degurechaff is utterly still, echoes of hysterical disbelief rippling through her presence.

(He rather agrees with her.)

(What the hell?)

“Sir,” Degurechaff says almost mechanically, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Sir, if that’s what’s waiting for us on the other side, I think my new life’s goal is to live forever.”

He bites back the almost hysterical laughter that wants to rise, completely agreeing with Degurechaff even if he’d never join the Reapers anyway.

(How could a place so terrifying be so… disorganized?)

(That… that wasn’t a way to run an efficient military at all!)

“What did he say?” Alexis asks, her gaze still fixed on the Reaper but her bow slightly lowered to point towards the ground.

“He said… Degurechaff, correct me if I misunderstood, but… he said that there are thirteen independent divisions of Reapers, each one led by a Captain and Lieutenant.” He glances down at Degurechaff, hoping that she’ll correct his understanding, but all she does is grimace and nod in agreement. He’d really hoped he’d understood wrong, but all he can do is continue his translation. “There are also several ranked but unnamed officer positions below them, and the highest rank is the Captain-Commander, who leads one of the divisions…”

Alexis blinks, frowns, and then shoots the Reaper an incredulous look. “Hearing that, I have to wonder…”

Erich shrugs awkwardly and lets go of Degurechaff’s shoulder in order to rub at his temple. “Records mention that the initial demands came from an old man claiming to be the Captain Commander, which I always thought was a strange translation, but… maybe not.”

Tanya scoffs and shakes her head, stepping forward to put herself between Erich and the Reaper again. “Thirteen mostly independent units and they all agreed on genocide,” she mutters under her breath, words clearly not intended for Erich to hear. Before Erich can ask — she’s mentioned genocide twice in relation to him now, and he can guess at the meaning, but… where did she come up with a word like that…? — she clears her throat and switches to Akitsugo to say, “While we appreciate your explanations, this is still not the time for continuing this conversation. We will… call… for you later, as we’ve already done once before. Please refrain from returning until then.”

The Reaper stares at her for a moment, then sends an almost pleading look at Erich, who shakes his head and tips his manifested rifle back up a few inches in warning. The gesture seems to get through to him at least, because he sighs and takes another step backwards.

“Maa, well, if that’s the way it is—”

“It is.”

“Ahahahaha, well… I guess I’ll be going then! Have a good evening, everyone~” the man says with a level of forced cheer that sets Erich’s teeth on edge, before he darts out of the tent and away at last.

Erich waits a moment. Two. Slowly lets his rifle dissolve back into spirit particles and takes a shaky step backwards, another, feels his knees give way and—

Alexis’ arms wrap around his chest and pull him tight to her, taking most of his weight without issue. “You’re okay,” she murmurs into his ear as she presses a kiss to the side of his neck. “He’s gone, beloved, it’s alright to rest. I’ll guard you…”

He smiles faintly. “You’ll need to take that armor off first if you intend to sleep with me,” he teases her, amusement growing as he spots Degurechaff rolling her eyes and pointedly looking away. “I assume you, Colonel, we won’t be doing anything inappropriate,” he says, unable to resist teasing Degurechaff as well.

Degurechaff snorts. “You wouldn’t be the first,” she says archly, then pauses as he grows still and narrows his eyes. Understanding suddenly flares to life and she hastens to say, “It was never while we were deployed—”

“That’s not my concern, Colonel.”

She gives him a deadpan look, eyes trailing to Alexis’ arms wrapped around him and then back up. “Sir, this is the military.”

She’s right and he hates that she’s right; he knows of at least four relationships currently going on amongst his own men, and knows that there are plenty of others finding comfort in their fellow soldiers’ arms without committing to anything. It’s a fact of life that everyone simply turns a blind eye to, but for people to be so careless as to do it where a child — no matter how precocious or hardened by war — can find them…

“I do hope that nothing has happened, at least?” he asks leadingly, finding the strength to push a bit away from Alexis to stand on his own.

“I’m fine, sir, no one’s ever tried anything. And a few small fireballs serves to break things up without problem.”

Alexis laughs, bright and sharp, and drapes across his back to peer at Degurechaff. “Oh, I like her, Erich,” she says with a grin. “Colonel Degurechaff, allow me to extend an invitation to visit us at our home someday. If you ever have need of a place to stay or a noble family’s backing, come see me and we’ll have a discussion.”

Degurechaff blinks, her smooth expression broken by surprise while her aura almost screams shock-glee-excitement to anyone sensitive. She looks to him in disbelief, questioning his wife’s words and—

He nods.

(Once, he would have agreed only to save face.)

(But now… well… she deserves a chance to do whatever she wants with her life after the war is over, doesn’t she?)

(And after everything she’s done for him… patronage and support is the least he can offer.)

“Thank you,” she breathes, a true, happy smile curling at the corners of her lips. “I… will probably take you up on that at some point.” Then she gives her head a shake and steps back, smile tucked away behind professionalism as she salutes him. “I’ll give you two some time alone, sir, ma’am, but I’m still going to be sleeping in here tonight. We can discuss changing arrangements later, but I figure more is better at this stage.”

“You’re probably correct, Colonel,” Alexis agrees with a nod. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Dugerechaff nods and marches out of the tent, leaving them alone at last and—

He’s so tired.

“Let’s get you into bed, my love,” Alexis murmurs as she carefully pulls him back, one step at a time. She slips out from behind him in order to push him down onto his bed, then begins to unlatch and set aside her armor. “I can feel your exhaustion and I’m certain Degurechaff can as well, now that she’s aware.”

Erich groans at the idea and leans forward to fumble his boots and socks off. “Just what I needed, the Devil of the Rhine having spiritual powers,” he grumbles without any real annoyance. It will mean he needs to keep an eye on her a bit more than before, and probably give her some pointers on how to train her abilities so she isn’t a giant beacon to every Hollow around, but… she’s intelligent and driven and sharp. There’s a reason she was awarded the Silver Wings badge so young and early in her career, and no matter how much he tried to stop it at the time, he knew she deserved the award.

(Nine years old and already a hero.)

(Nine years old and already a monster.)

(When did he stop fearing her…?)

Alexis chuckles and slides into bed next to him, gently pulling him down to lay with his back against her chest. It’s a tight fit, barely enough room for them to lay like this, but… it’s comfortable.

It’s safe.

Her breath against his neck. Her hand on his chest. Her leg over his.

He’s trapped, pinned by her weight, and yet—

He’s safe.

(He sleeps and dreams do not disturb him.)

(He’s safe.)