Splinter

by blindmasks

Summary:

When people look at Levi – new recruits, citizens, higher ups, soldiers, anyone really other than Erwin and Hange and some of his squad – they always look at him like they are waiting for him to snap, afraid that he will snap. Afraid that he will suddenly and without warning turn into the killer that he is known as, jarred out of that cold, calm demeanor in an instant and into striking, startling violence.

And Levi always wants to laugh. Because Levi does not snap – he splinters.

Notes:

Hey, it's been like a year or two or something since I've posted anything. Recently binge watched this series and then read some of the manga. Anyway now I have a few chapters already written and just waiting to be edited. Mostly cannon compliant, at least so far.

Please read the tags. I'll go ahead and slap on a trigger warning for just about anything that could have a trigger warning. I don't think this fic is as depressing as the tags make it feel though? There's going to be a lot of comfort in this fic too.

Chapter 1: Cracks

When people look at Levi – new recruits, citizens, higher ups, soldiers, anyone really other than Erwin and Hange and some of his squad – they always look at him like they are waiting for him to snap, afraid that he will snap. Afraid that he will suddenly and without warning turn into the killer that he is known as, jarred out of that cold, calm demeanor in an instant.

            And Levi always wants to laugh. Because Levi does not snap – he splinters.

            He splinters when Isabel and Furlan die, but Erwin isn’t really around to see that. The first time that Erwin realizes just how fucked up Levi is, it's after Levi is a captain, after he is supposedly tamed and properly turned into the weapon that Erwin saw three years earlier down in the underground city. Wall Maria will not fall for another year. Levi will not truly gain the name of Humanity’s Strongest for another year. He is nineteen years old.

            It’s a stupid thing that sets it off. Of course, it’s usually a stupid thing that sets it off. It doesn’t matter how many people he watches die or how many Titans he kills, how close to being killed, he gets. That has all been numb to him for a long time now. He can’t bathe.

            They lose ten of the thirty soldiers on the first day of the expedition but when they arrive at the village to find the library still intact, Erwin can convince himself that it was justified. They set up camp inside the library, which is relatively large. It’s warm enough that they don’t need fires and the light is just starting to die when Erwin sees Levi walk towards the exit and push open the front doors.

            “Levi,” he says, and Levi looks back at him, hand still on the door. “Where are you going?”

            “To wash,” he says, and then turns back to the door, pushing it open another six inches.

            “Where exactly?” Erwin says.

            “River we passed south of here,” Levi says without looking.

            “Absolutely not.”

            Levi stills, and then turns. His face is as expressionless as always but Erwin sees his eye twitch.

            “It’s not completely dark yet and there could be abnormals around anyway,” Erwin says. “It’s not safe.”

            “I’ll be fine.”

            “It’s an unnecessary risk and you are not to go outside, that’s an order.”

            Levi stills again. He stares at Erwin for a long second and Erwin has about a fifty-fifty bet on whether or not he’ll listen.

            The door closes with a bang. Levi’s expressionless face has turned just down enough to be called a glare, and he holds Erwin’s gaze for another few moments while he walks back to where his bedroll and bag is set up.

            Erwin thinks nothing of it until two days later, the morning after they return to their base within the walls, and Erwin finds Levi’s squad just standing around, sans Levi.

            “What are you all doing here?” Erwin asks. “Where’s Captain Levi?”

            “We haven’t seen him this morning,” one of them says, “I knocked on his door but he didn’t answer.”

            Erwin frowns, and then goes back into the building and to Levi’s room. He knocks firmly. “Levi, it’s me.”

            He gets no response.

            “Levi, open up,” Erwin says.

            There is a pause, and then the turn of the doorknob and the light creak, the door opening slowly and just enough for Levi to look out at him, impassive. He’s not dressed to train. He’s wearing a crisp white, long-sleeved shirt and his standard black pants. There’s circles under his eyes and his skin looks pink – it’s startling and for a second Erwin things he’s flushed or blushing, but a moment later he realizes it looks more like his skin is irritated.

            “Why aren’t you down in the yard?” he says. “Your team is looking for you.”

            “I’m unfit for training today,” Levi says flatly, and starts to shut the door.

            Erwin grabs the door, frowning. He’d think that Levi was being lazy except that Levi is never lazy. Slow, methodical, uncaring, but not lazy. “Are you ill?” Erwin asks. “Do you need to go to medical?”

            “It’s taken care of,” Levi says, but Erwin doesn’t close the door. He glances up and down, and notices suddenly that there are bandages wrapped around Levi’s right hand, and his fingers are bright red. It disappears under his sleeves.

            “Did you get injured?” Erwin asks, and he’s trying to remember – they only ran into one Titan the day before, and Levi had seemed fine the day before that – Erwin hadn’t noticed any injuries and Levi wasn’t one to avoid medical – in fact, he was surprisingly overcautious about injuries and their healing.

            “Yes,” Levi says.

            “Did you go to medical?” Erwin asks. It feels off – there’s something that’s making his skin prickle. Levi is always impossible to read but this time there’s something that feels forced.

            “Erwin,” Levi says. His mouth twitches.

            “What are your injuries?” Erwin says, commanding this time, and there’s that one moment of stillness and then Levi’s expression suddenly breaks, a sudden flash of irritation followed by something close to recklessness, a loss of control that Erwin can’t ever remember seeing on his face, save maybe when his friends were killed on that first mission beyond the walls.

            “My knuckles and elbows of both hands are split open, my right arm wrist to elbow is scraped raw, there are somewhere around two dozen cuts total across both my arms, and I have first degree burns on my right hand. I will be back on duty tomorrow, sir.”

            And he slams the door in Erwin’s face and Erwin is too shocked to do anything but stare at the wooden door in front of him.

 

 

 

            Levi sits in his room and takes another swig of wine. He rarely drinks. It makes him too vulnerable to attack, and he has a habit of getting much too drunk on the occasions that he does drink, and that makes him vulnerable to attack for the whole day afterwards as well – he does not get sick. He almost never vomits from it, but his body shakes and his head falls thick and his reactions are pathetically slow.

            His skin is no longer crawling but pain sings all over instead and he feels shitty even with the relief still resonating in his blood. He hadn’t drank the night before. He had a fireplace in his room and even though the space is tiny he still has a small, but effective, tub squished into the corner. That and a large barrel of water that he keeps full.

            He’s surprised and yet not surprised at all at the lack of shame or worry or hell even any concern at all that he feels about having told Erwin exactly how he’s hurt himself. He waits but just hears Erwin’s receding footsteps and huffs to himself. That would be it then, apparently.

            He always forgets, in his panicked frenzy, that it will feel like shit afterwards. That suddenly his body will remember to turn on its pain receptors again, will suddenly remember that it is in fact skin and not just some absorbent covering. He drinks some more wine.

            And then another knock comes, about twenty minutes later. Levi closes his eyes for one moment. He hadn’t locked it this time. The door creaks open.

            He doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Erwin. He looks anyway and sees that he’s brought tea and a bag with him this time. He places the tea on Levi’s desk before pulling over the chair towards his bed. Erwin’s eyes fall on the bottle of wine that Levi is still holding, and Levi dares him to say something with his eyes, feels like he could throw the whole damn bottle at him if he says one word about it.

            Erwin doesn’t. He takes a cup of tea and holds it out to him.

            Levi looks at him for a moment, then puts the bottle of wine down and accepts the tea. Erwin settles into the chair with his own cup.

            “Do you do this often?” Erwin says.

            “If I did you would have heard about it by now,” Levi says. He takes a sip of tea.

            “Is there a particular reason why?”

            “You wouldn’t let me wash.”

            The look on Erwin’s face is so comical that Levi actually barks out a laugh. He blames it on the wine. It’s all shock and surprise and confusion, followed by an incredulous kind of guilt, and Levi wants to sink his teeth into that, wants him to feel guilty because he can still feel the grime and sweat, and Titan blood evaporates but he swore he could feel it on his face, his hair, his clothes, his hands, his arms, everywhere. He can still taste the panic he felt that night in the library, eyes open, whole body tense, lying in the dark while everyone else slept, the panic and sudden trapped, helpless, unbearable tension. He wants Erwin to know how much he has unwittingly hurt him. He wants to hurt him back.

            When Levi is done laughing, Erwin’s face has morphed into a guarded, cautious worry. He looks fucking disturbed, Levi realizes. It makes him want to laugh again and instead he gives him a crooked, unhinged smile.

            This is the rabid dog that the higher ups and the nobles have always been afraid of. This is the underground, criminal scum that the other soldiers were so loathe and fearful of working with. No, he was never a danger to any of them – at least not an unpredictable danger. He is only ever reckless with himself.

            Erwin clears his throat. “Levi, really. Please tell me what made you do this.”

            Levi grins at him. He grins and he knows he looks disturbing, he knows the insanity which he keeps so tightly locked into the back of his mind is bleeding through, and he doesn’t fucking care. His hand is fucking agony with the burns he gave himself at two in the morning that night, unable to get the feeling of blood from under his fingernails, the cracks in the lines of his palm, his right one, his dominant hand, where blood hand gotten sprayed the most, the hand he used to pick things up, the one that always was likely to be more filthy that the other.

            It had been pure desperation, and for a second the blinding pain was worth it, because he was finally, finally sure that his hand was completely sterilized, and the fucking relief was incredible. Now it just hurts like absolute hell. He grins at Erwin anyway.

            Erwin stares at him, and Levi can see it, the moment he realizes that Levi wasn’t joking.

            “You’re serious,” Erwin says, and it’s not accusatory or chastising, just blank and shocked. “You really did this to yourself because you couldn’t take a bath.”

            “You know how I do like things clean.”

            Erwin stares at him another moment, and then hangs his head down and puts one hand to his face, fingers on the bridge of his nose, elbow against his knee.

            “Okay,” he says when he looks up. “Explain it to me. Why this?”

            Levi looks back at him impassively. “Why what?” His tone is flat, purposefully misunderstanding.

            “Why did you hurt yourself.”

            “I didn’t say I hurt myself.”

            “Are you telling me the injuries you listed off weren’t self-inflicted? Because I really can’t imagine anyone who would ever be able to inflict that kind of damage on you, unless they got a drop on you and are now dead.”

            Levi says nothing.

            “God, Levi, give me something here,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t like filth.”

            It comes out dry and measured, unhurried. It’s not automatic but it certainly isn’t thought out.

            “Yes, I gathered that,” Erwin says, almost irritated. He lets out a sigh, seems to try again. “Can I see the wounds?”

            “Why?” Levi says. “I cleaned them.”

            “You said you didn’t go to medical,” Erwin says, and he nods at Levi’s hand, his right hand, that he has laid carefully by his side, holding the tea in his left. “Even first degree burns on feet and hands can be serious.”

            “It’s fine.” It’s agonizing. He resists the urge to pull his hand away as Erwin continues to look at it. The only skin exposed are his fingers, and even then, only past the second knuckle. It was a bitch to wrap.

            “Have you treated burns before?” Erwin says. “You can’t just wrap them up like cuts and scrapes. Did you put ointment on it?”

            “I sterilized it,” Levi says. Alcohol. He’d almost passed out. He’d put a piece of (clean) cloth in his mouth to bite down on.

            Erwin looks at him like he’s insane and this time the expression is far less comical for some reason. “You need burn cream,” he says. He grabs the bag he brought with him and pulls out a tube of something and another role of bandages, these ones thinner and softer looking than the ones Levi had applied that night (or that morning, he supposes).

            Levi looks at it, debates it in his mind. He needs it to heal well though, needs to avoid infection, and Erwin seems pretty sure of himself on this. Hell, what does Levi care if Erwin sees the damage?

            “Fine,” he says. He pulls off his shirt. There are bandages wrapped all the way to his shoulder on his right arm and bandages from wrist to elbow on his left. There are patches of scraped skin on his stomach and chest that almost look like bruises – tiny red and purple dots in clusters, where he’d broken blood vessels just under the skin from rubbing with a sponge, then a rough cloth, and then, when he could still feel it, still feel it on his skin, he’d taken steel wool to his arms. The rest of his skin is pink, rubbed raw, as well.

            Erwin forces himself to look at Levi’s arms. Levi watches him carefully, emotionlessly. Erwin holds out his hand but leaves it there, as if asking, may I? Levi turns to sit a little closer, legs over the edge of the bed, and holds out his right arm.

            Erwin begins unwrapping the bandages, starting at his shoulder. It stings where some of the wounds, scabs forming, stick to the bandages. A couple start to trickle blood, just barely. His elbow is scraped. There are small, imprecise cuts hashed over each other sporadically all across his wrist – how many? Fifteen, twenty, more? He’s not sure. He didn’t stop to count. (His own blood was better than Titan blood, better than sweat, better than dirt. If he couldn’t have water and soap then he’d take blood.)

            Levi watches Erwin but all he does is pause, looking at the cuts, and then continue. When he begins to unwrap the bandages on Levi’s hand, Levi sucks in a sharp breath and his fingers twitch. Erwin pauses.

            Levi swallows. It was some of the worst pain he’d been in and he’d been through plenty of pain. He’d known burns were very painful but he hadn’t really realized what that meant. He had never burned himself more than a couple sparks from a fire.

            “This will hurt,” Erwin says.

            “No shit,” Levi bites out. Erwin continues to unwrap it and Levi tenses further and further until he closes his eyes and turns away, jaw clenching. It's almost as bad as the alcohol had been.

            When he finishes, Erwin sits looking at Levi’s hand, holding it delicately by his wrist and the tips of his fingers. He starts applying the ointment, which actually seems to help, make the pain soften, at least slightly. He starts rewrapping afterwards.

            “You need to change the bandages and apply more ointment twice a day,” Erwin says. “And don’t try to hold anything with it for at least a week. I won’t tell you not to train because I know you won’t listen, but you will inhibit the healing and cause scarring if not nerve damage if you try wielding a sword or vertical maneuvering gear.”

            “Fine,” Levi says. Truthfully, he’s not sure he’s capable of holding anything at the moment anyway – his fingers don’t want to respond and he’s in enough pain without putting pressure on his skin.

            When Levi looks up Erwin is staring at him. Calculating, just a step below intense. “You obviously get dirty all the time – why was this different?”

            “I need to wash and change before I sleep.”

            It was fine (mostly fine, he could ignore it, he could get over it) as long as it was still daytime, as long as he was still fighting, sweating, actively engaged in something. It was only when he stood still again that it started to grate.

            (To grate and grate and rise and it felt ear-piercing, sharp and itching, and then suddenly that cracked and exploded into fear instead, panic, terror.)

            Even then, it wasn’t usually this bad. It came in waves. He’d felt it building for the past couple weeks. This was just the breaking point, a catalyst.

            “Can I help?” Erwin says. “Would you tell me next time?”

            “You can let me wash.”

            “Levi –”

            “Shut up, Erwin.”

            “Will you be alright if I leave?” he says.

            Levi looks at him sideways. Exactly what do you mean by alright? he wants to say.

            Erwin waits. “Are you going to hurt yourself again if I leave?” Erwin says, firmer.

            Levi narrows his eyes. “Do you actually think you could stop me if I wanted to?” he says. Do you actually think that I have the ability to stop myself?

            Erwin sighs. “No,” he says, “but I thought it might help. Will you please come get me? If you’re going to hurt yourself again – if you want to hurt yourself.”

            “I don’t want to hurt myself.” Levi says the words and then wonders if it’s actually a lie.

            “Then why do you do it?”

            Levi doesn’t answer.

            Erwin sighs. “Alright,” he says. He starts to stand. “Please come get me. Please tell me next time you’re going to.”

            “I’m going to tonight.”

            It’s not a promise. It’s a fact. Tonight, when he can’t sleep. He no longer feels the phantom itch, but it doesn’t matter. He’s broken the seal. He knows this path. It will continue, the bursts of self-destructiveness, for another week at least, probably more like two or three, then it will taper off.

            Erwin pauses. “Alright, I’ll be back tonight then with some tea.”

 

 

 

            The next time Levi tells him he’s going to wash while on a trip outside the walls, Erwin lets him.

 

 

Chapter 2: Spine

Summary:

Captain Levi is, in fact, not indestructible.

(In other words, blood and injury and medical inaccuracies below)

Notes:

As a side note, I've watched a conglomerate of Netflix ordained subtitles, shitty youtube subs, even shittier youtube dubs, and read some of the manga. As a result, some of the spellings of names of things, people, and places are different than what I think the norm is. I've also forgotten exactly what the non-norm spellings are, so I'm sure there's some that are just straight up wrong.

(Biggest one is their gear - I've seen 3DM gear, vertical maneuvering equipment, and omni-directional movement gear - ODM. I've also used Wall Rosa not Wall Rose, and honestly I can't remember if that's something I read or if I'm just wrong. Similarly, I'm using Wall Sina not Sheena)

So anyway I'm just gonna go for it and ask you to bear with me while I do - if anyone has some insight to share about the different names though I'd be happy to hear them.

 

            The next time he cracks, really cracks, is a year later, right after the fall of wall Maria, after he gets injured badly. He breaks his collarbone, gets stabbed through his side by debris, and crushes his left hand. He does something to his back, no broken spine, something to the ligaments or the muscles, they tell him afterwards. He has a concussion. He’s covered in bruises and scrapes and cuts. He breaks three ribs.

            He took down at least forty Titans before he got thrown through a wall and partially buried under debris. Afterwards he remembers dust and coughing and pain. He remembers slivers of light and Hange’s voice.

            It takes two days for him to wake up, and when he does, he’s nearly delusional. They run out of painkillers. There are too many casualties, too many injuries, and they need the good ones for surgeries. He fights them. They tie down his wrists and ankles. He wakes up on the fourth day and he screams, and then screams again.

            They get the remaining survivors into wall Rosa and it’s that fourth day, in the evening, that Erwin visits him.

            He wakes up to Erwin next to him, sitting in bed. He wakes up and immediately wishes he was still unconscious. He can’t breathe. He’s in so much pain that it’s blinding. Erwin speaks and Levi doesn’t hear him.

            His eyes water. He can’t do this. It hurts so badly and it’s not any better than it was that morning. It’s consuming him, relentless. He can take alcohol on the wounds, stitches, setting a bone – they’re quick flashes of agony – he cannot take this unrelenting, all consuming pain across his body. His back is the worst, the loudest of the shooting pains.

            It feels like he’s broken his spine. He thinks for sure that he’s broken it. He feels his legs though, can feel the pain there too. He gasps and isn’t sure how long he lies there before his vision clears and he can hear Erwin talking.

            “Just try to breathe slowly,” Erwin says.

            “Fuck you,” Levi chokes out. He can’t breathe. Every shallow breath is agony. It takes him a moment to recognize the pain as cracked ribs. “What’s wrong with me?” Levi says between gasps.

            “A whole list of things but the main part is that you should heal from all of them,” Erwin says.

            “My back,” Levi says. He closes his eyes. It feels like knives are piercing through his skin in a dozen places.

            “Not broken,” Erwin says.

            And God, at that moment Levi is wondering why the Titan couldn’t have just snapped his fucking neck, wondering why he couldn’t have hit the building a little harder, slam his head hard enough to kill him. This is the closest call he’s ever had, the worst he’s ever been injured and isn’t it about fucking time they finally got him?

“Let me die,” Levi says, as if it is Erwin’s fault that the Titan didn’t kill him. “Fuck, Erwin, just let me fucking die already.”

            Erwin takes his hand and Levi squeezes down, inhumanly tight.

            “Not a chance,” Erwin says.

 

 

 

            He comes back the next day. Levi is sitting up then. Unhappy, suffering, but better than the previous day. Erwin comes in the evening.

            “I brought you some books,” Erwin says, pulling out a small stack from a bag. “I figured you could use something to do during the day.”

            “I can’t read,” Levi says, looking at them where Erwin puts them down. His spine feels like it’s trying to leave his body. His knuckles are white. He’s exhausted and the pain won’t let him sleep. The sheets of the bed crinkle and he keeps thinking about how they probably haven’t been changed the whole time he’s been there, about how he hasn’t gotten to have a proper bath in five days.

            Erwin pauses, and then looks strangely at him. “What are you talking about?” he says. “I’ve seen you read and write reports.”

            “I can’t read well,” Levi amends. “Eld reads the reports to me and I dictate while he writes for anything longer than a couple sentences.”

            “You really can’t read,” Erwin says, surprise still on his face.

            “When and where exactly would I have learned?” Levi says. There was no school in the underground. His mother couldn’t read. Kenny certainly hadn’t taught him. He’d only learned from Furlan, years later, when he was around fourteen. But even then, it had been the alphabet and specific phrases – meet at this time, this place, names and dates.

            “Well, the only way to get better is to practice,” Erwin says. “Anyway, I can read to you then in the meantime.” He picks up one of the books and settles into a chair.

 

 

            The next day the pain is still much past tolerable but not quite to blinding. He thinks about throwing himself out the window. It’s only the third story though. Unlikely that he would die. The pain is finally lowered enough that the itch of unclean sheets and the oiliness of his skin and hair reach a tipping point.

            He struggles to sit up fully in bed. His whole body protests. He grits his teeth and takes shallow breaths and forces himself upright. Once he’s sitting he pauses for several moments, and then pushes himself off the bed, onto his feet.

            It fucking hurts. He bites back a scream or a sob, he’s not sure which, and then takes some more breaths. Once up he walks to the cabinets in the room. He has a private room and only now realizes the oddity of this. He opens up cabinets randomly, and in one of them finds sheets. He throws it onto the chair that is next to the bed.

            He wants a bath. He wants a bath so much it feels like another pain alongside the rest. He can’t stand the pain if he also has to endure this. He shuffles his feet. He’s not wearing shoes. He has on loose white pants and a shirt. He finds new ones of those in the cabinets as well, rifles through them until he finds an appropriate size (small, the smallest they have – he is long past feeling self-conscious about his height).

            Right, he thinks, finding a towel in there as well. He closes the cabinets and holds the towels and clothes in his right hands (his left is splinted in three places, wrapped up on top of that). He manages to reach the door without passing out. He figures he can reach a tub then.

            He opens the door and looks out but there is no one in the hallway. He walks very slowly. A nurse walks around the corner and startles when he sees him.

            “Captain Levi?” he says. “Captain, you really shouldn’t be up and –”

            “Baths,” Levi says. “Showers. Where are they?”

            “They – Captain Levi, sir, you really shouldn’t be walking around yet, you’re still –”

            Levi presses the clothes and towel under his left arm just so that he can grab the nurse by the front of his shirt and yank him forward and down. “Baths,” Levi says.

            “Th-there’s a tub at the end of the hall, the room on the right,” he says. He looks terrified and Levi is too tired and in too much pain to even take notice.

            “Is there water as well? A fire?”

            “Yes,” he says.

            “Come,” Levi says, taking a step and pulling on the boy’s shirt for him to follow.

            “I really –”

            Levi turns to glare at him and the boy’s face goes white and whatever he was going to say never gets past his throat.

            Levi curses and yells, but he gets his bath. He makes the nurse heat water and fill the tub for him. He needs help getting into and out of it. It’s warm and clean and it feels so good that Levi almost sobs at the relief. He washes, and then he stays in the warm water until it begins to cool. The boy helps him get dressed again, and then he walks back to his room and lies down again, exhausted.

 

 

            “Do you have a death wish?” Erwin says, almost yells, face twisted, the second he enters Levi’s room, around dinnertime that day.

            “I think of it more as a cordial invitation,” Levi says. He holds one of the books that Erwin left for him – the one with the largest printed font. It takes him a frustrating amount of time to read anything – he really has to sound out each word – but he has time and is so bored he could be sick and the pain is worse without a distraction, so he decided to give it a try.

            “You scared that poor boy half to death,” Erwin says, instead of trying to unpack that statement. It hits him that Levi’s response may not be entirely sarcastic. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing, getting up by yourself when you’ve smashed through a wall not a week ago?”

            “My hair was greasy and the sheets needed changing,” Levi says.

            Erwin closes his eyes. “Levi.” His voice is strained.

            “Did you bring my dinner?” Levi says. He peers down at Erwin’s hands, but there is nothing in them and no bag with him. He frowns.

            “Levi, I’m serious,” Erwin says. “You can’t be walking around like that without a doctor’s say so.”

            “Well it turned out fine,” Levi says.

            “You don’t know that,” Erwin says. “Now a doctor needs to check your splints and look at your collarbone and make sure you didn’t jostle your ribs and puncture a damn lung –”

            “They check me over each night anyway,” Levi says.

            “You are putting yourself in unnecessary danger,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s eyes narrow sharply. “My lungs feel like I’m constantly halfway to drowning and my back is fucking agony, can you just let me have this?” Levi snaps.

            Erwin sighs deeply, keeps Levi’s gaze. “You are going to wind up hurting yourself,” Erwin says, realizes a second too late that it was the wrong thing to say.

            Levi laughs, abrupt, shallow. It hurts his ribs sharply and he doesn’t regret it anyway. “Well if that’s what you’re trying to avoid then you really should let me have my bath.”

            “That’s not –” Erwin starts, then stops. “Is it that again? You want to hurt yourself again?”

            “At the moment? No, not particularly,” Levi says. (If you don’t count the flimsy urge to drown himself in a bucket.) “Pretty much have my fill of pain right now.”

            “Alright, but it’s the – the same kind of need to wash?” Erwin says.

            “I suppose,” Levi says. Is it ever not that need? Is there ever any other kind of need?

            “Okay,” Erwin says. He rubs at his eyes. “Would you at least tell me next time so I can help you? Or at least tell someone.”

            “I had a nurse,” Levi says.

            Erwin gives him a look.

            “So are you going to get my dinner or what?” Levi says.

 

Notes:

Short chapter but more coming soon! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 3: Unbearable

Summary:

In which pain is the problem and somehow also the solution and Levi tries not to think too hard on that.

            There are things that Levi can bear, and there are things that Levi cannot bear, and it seems to Levi that everything in his life can be simplified down to those two categories.

            Kenny leaving. Bearable. Losing Isabel and Furlan. Unbearable. Blood on his face, muddy boots, sweat soaked shirt, all while riding a horse, fighting Titans, training. Bearable. Grimy, filthy clothing and skin and no way to wash it off, get it off, before going to bed, before things quiet and he has to lie down in blankets that will also now get filthy, lying there in the dark as the familiar panic crawls up his spine. Unbearable. Hange with her careful white bandages, Erwin with his ointments and gentle touch. Bearable. Doctors he doesn’t know, half lucid, tied down, waking up startled and in pain, unsure of where he is. Unbearable. Breaking his arm, stabbings, stitches. Bearable. The unrelenting pain in his back. Unbearable.

            It is the unbearable things that have his mind cracking to pieces. He’s tried to kill himself only once. After that it felt pointless. He might as well die fighting, might as well die in a Titan’s mouth, and for a while, after Isabel and Furlan’s deaths, that was really how he thought it was going to be, and sooner rather than later. And no matter how reckless he was, how aggressive and almost manic in his attacks, he didn’t die. He watched everyone die around him, and yet he, who did not care if he died, who was leaning more to the side of wanting to die, lives. It felt a cruel irony of fate.

            He’d softened since then. He’s no longer horribly reckless with his own life. He also still does not particularly care about living but he has settled on the fact that he is in fact a great tool for humanity, that even if they don’t need him they definitely benefit greatly from having him, and he cares enough about humanity that it is a significant motivating factor. The thought of dying comes and goes though. It makes it easy to go beyond the walls. Makes it easy not to be affected when he comes close to death, not to fear going outside the walls, not to fear Titans. If one gets him, then so be it.

            His back is fucked up after getting crushed by debris, even after everything else has healed. His back is fucked up and while the pain comes increasingly less frequently, those first couple months are hell. Hange gives him something for the pain, a tea which is bitter and that he hates. He drinks it anyway. It barely helps. There are no strong painkillers left. They have all been used up and they don’t have more. Hange sits with him when it’s really bad. Erwin too, when he’s there.

            He lies on his bed in the too bright room. He hears recruits drilling outside through the open window. He pants and the pain is crushing, searing up and down his back. He’s lying flat on his back now. It doesn’t seem to matter what position he takes but he cycles through them anyway, hoping one will help more than the others.

            A hand touches his forehead and pushes the hair out of his eyes. He’s sweating and he can feel it on the sheets and the pain should block out the crawling discomfort that inflicts, but it doesn’t. It just seems to add to the overall misery of the situation.

            “Do you want some water?” Hange asks. Her voice is always so soft when he gets like this, and Levi really can’t say whether he likes that or not. Doesn’t know if it just makes him irritated, the empathy in her voice, the subdued nature, or if he’s grateful that she’s more reserved, almost gentle.

            He shakes his head. A tear drips down on one side of his face, then the other, eyes squeezed shut. He’s never been ashamed of crying, but then again he has never cried very much. Even when Isabel and Furlan died, he has always met grief and pain with violence and self-destruction. He doesn’t usually cry at physical pain either, and it surprised him at first when he started crying during these bouts, but now he’s used to it.

            “How long?” Levi says.

            “About two hours now.”

            Two hours since he’d felt the muscles of his back start to tense and seize up, dread filling his stomach. He’d gone inside and to his room, had made himself the tea that Hange gave him, and then laid down. Hange had found him – someone must have told her that he’d left the yard suddenly.

            “When is this going to stop?” Levi says. “It’s been two fucking months.”

            The first two weeks in medical, the next two weeks barred from training. He healed unnaturally quickly, always has. Another month of bouts of pain, at first every day, then about every two. It’s down to every two to three days now and it fucking sucks. He thinks it should be getting better, that it should be bothering him less since it’s less frequent, but it’s not. Each attack just seems to build off the last one until his nerves are frayed and he’s at the end of his rope before one even starts.

            “It’s getting less frequent,” Hange said. “That’s a good sign.”

            This one wears off another two hours later. He’s exhausted. Hange leaves and Levi draws a bath. His whole body aches. It feels like a betrayal.

            His hands start shaking. Despite his reputation, he’s never really been good with pain. Despite his past on the streets of the underground and his many, many trips outside the walls and then outside wall Rosa, he has not sustained overly many injuries. He has always been a good fighter, and while he obviously has had his share of bruises and cuts, he has not experienced a lot of severe pain.

            He’s always fine in the moment. Adrenaline always masks it all, so it always seems like pain doesn’t affect him at all, which really must be where his reputation of cold efficiency, unaffected by pain, comes from. It’s afterwards that it becomes consuming, that Levi grits his teeth and grits his teeth some more until thoughts of pain are all he can think about, all he can focus on, and it becomes a sharp desperation in his chest.

            He gets into the water. He sinks down for only a second, and then begins scrubbing. He scrubs his traitorous body. It has always served him so well up until now. He feels dizzy. He hasn’t been eating enough. He doesn’t want to think about how it will happen again, how it will happen many more times, and yet this is all he can think about. His chest tightens and tightens until it feels like his ribs are cracking all over again. He wonders when the next time will be, if he will wake in the morning, or worse, in the middle of the night, with images of walls and beams falling on top of him, or if it will start slowly during the day, letting the dread build and build, at first thinking, hoping, it’s nothing, then slowly feeling it heighten. He wonders if Erwin and Hange will both be busy, and he will be left alone in a silent room, his own personal hell, for a few hours that feel like days.

The tension has turned to pressure and it feels like he’s going to burst. He gets out of the water and without drying off retrieves a knife. He makes three neat lines across his wrist.

            They’re not deep. They sting. They’re sharp and sudden and he can breathe again. Funny, that pain is what brings things sharply back into focus, that pain is what stops his spiraling thoughts about pain.

            He makes seven more. An even ten. And then he washes them and the blade and wraps up his arm and goes to sleep.

 

 

            It becomes a habit. Ten lines, after every bout of pain. He doesn’t understand why this helps. He’s done it before of course, to get his mind to stop spinning, but it feels ironic and cruel, that his mind is plagued by anxiety and dread of the next bout of pain, and he has to inflict pain to get it to stop.

            It doesn’t feel anything like the pain of injuries. He doesn’t understand why. He just knows that the self-inflicted, shallow cuts bother him less and less. He’s never cut so consistently for so long. The bouts of pain drag on for another two months. They get a little less frequent, and then stay steady at a little more than once a week, every five or six days on average. The fear softens, now that there’s more time in between. It becomes more annoying than intolerable, although his stomach still clenches up and his chest goes cold every time he feels it starting. He still cuts after each one. He finds himself looking forward to when he gets to. He finds himself wishing he could cut more often.

            (He could of course but he finds the desire mildly disturbing, worrying. He’s starting to crave the sharp pain and sudden relief. He recognizes that this is probably bad.)

            Eld and a couple of the other soldiers under his command, in his squad, start to notice the frequency with which bandages are around his arms. When they’re not wrapped up they see the thin red marks. They heal so quickly. Levi doesn’t take particular care to hide them, especially around his squad. He cares a little more about hiding them from Hange and Erwin. He doesn’t want that conversation. Eld and the rest make a couple of vague, careful comments and he brushes them off.

            (Well, see it started as a shitty coping mechanism and now has become some kind of fucked up ritualistic habit where I slice up my own skin so that I don’t have to think about pain. He really doesn’t think that conversation would go well. He does wonder what expression would cross their faces though.)

            It’s not unheard of for soldiers to self-harm but it certainly isn’t common. Especially how Levi does it – mutilation is more frequent, a cut foot, a broken wrist, to get discharged. He doesn’t think his teammates realize what he’s doing even though they see the injuries – he’d be surprised actually if any of them guessed that they were self-inflicted.

            Erwin shows up at his room after dinner. He has a hard look on his face. “Eld stopped to talk to me,” Erwin says. “He said you have injuries on your arms that seem not to be healing.”

            “Eld is an idiot,” Levi says. He wonders when it became clear to everyone that Erwin was his keeper. Or he supposes it has always been like that – he started off as a pet project of Erwin’s after all.

            Erwin walks into the room and Levi sighs but lets him. Erwin sits in a chair. Levi sits on the bed.

            “Can I see?” Erwin says, and Levi sighs again.

            “I don’t know what you think this is going to accomplish,” he says, but he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt anyway. Neither of his arms are currently wrapped in bandages. It’s been five days since his last bout of pain. Long enough for the cuts to seal up. They’re still clearly visible, and both are covered in thin, barely noticeable scars now.

            Erwin’s frown deepens as he looks, stares really, at his arms. He finally raises his eyes again. “This is different,” he says, voice low and almost grim.

            No shit, Levi thinks. He says nothing. His face is perfectly impassive.

            Erwin seems to mull it over some more. “Maybe Hange could help,” he says. “There has to be some – some medicine, or something, for this.”

            Levi raises an eyebrow.

            “It’s not normal, the way you care about cleanliness.”

            Both of Levi’s eyebrows raise, but he’s not hurt by the way Erwin’s phrased it. He’s more amused at the insensitiveness.

            “That came out wrong,” Erwin says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What I mean is, there has to be something about your brain, I mean your physical brain, not just your mind, an illness, to make you so bothered by it.”

            “This wasn’t about filth,” Levi says.

            Erwin stares at him. “Then what was it about?” he says, incredulous expression across his face. Levi finds it almost funny. These conversations with Erwin always seem almost funny.

            “The pain,” he says.

            It takes Erwin a moment to catch up with him, to realize he’s talking about his back.

            “I don’t understand,” Erwin says, another deep frown. “I mean, I understand the pain is bad, truly bad, that it’s taxing and miserable, and I understand how it could make you anxious –” And Levi finds it hilarious, actually, that Erwin is so quick to reassure him that he doesn’t think Levi weak for being bothered by the pain. “– I just don’t understand how this could help, how this – it’s causing you more pain, to hurt yourself.”

            Levi shrugs. “It makes me stop thinking.”

            Erwin keeps staring at him. Levi has gotten used to Erwin staring a lot during these conversations. “Is it – is it to prove to yourself you can take it? That you’re not weak, that you can take the pain?”

            Levi does laugh then. “Not all of us have an inferiority complex,” he says.

            “Well then what is it, that makes it better?” he says.

            “Hell if I know.”

            It just made the thoughts stop. He’d been doing it for years, since he was a child really, when – maybe eleven, twelve years old? He can’t really remember – it had started as recklessness, as handling a blade carelessly, of getting into fights, of punching things, and when he learned that the pain was a great distraction, he had started experimenting, doing it on purpose. Only for short amounts of time though, bursts of self-destruction, after something happened that made him crack and splinter.

            “You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Erwin says.

            Levi cocks his head to the side, almost smiles. It’s an unnerving look, Erwin thinks. “What exactly are you worried about?” Levi says. “I always disinfect them, none are deep enough to need stitches, and they’re too small and too few to inhibit my ability to train or fight. They heal within a week.”

            “You’re hurting yourself,” Erwin says with emphasis.

            “Yes, we’ve already had that conversation,” Levi says. “I thought we established that I do that.”

            “It’s not good for you,” Erwin says. “You can’t keep doing it.”

            “It won’t go on forever,” Levi says.

            “It’s about the pain? Your back pain?” Erwin says. “And what if it never completely goes away?”

            Levi swallows. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his mind before, but it keeps getting less frequent if not less painful and Hange seems optimistic that it will continue to fade with time.

            “Then I suppose I’ll keep doing it,” Levi says.

            “I’m going to tell Hange,” Erwin says. It’s not a threat, just a statement.

            “Fine,” Levi says. She knows he can hurt himself sometimes, but she doesn’t know how deliberate it is. He supposes it doesn’t really matter and she was bound to find out at some point. He just hopes she won’t start asking all kinds of questions about it, trying to understand the psychology and the science behind such a stupid, counterproductive reaction.   

 

 

            There is apparently a flowering plant you can eat or put into tea to help with anxious and spiraling thoughts. Levi looks at Hange with doubt when she presents it to him, but he humors her. He eats it, a small piece every day, because he insists that it ruins his tea. He doesn’t notice a difference, but the back pain finally ceases almost completely a month later, so he stops cutting and begins to feel better. Hange insists he keep eating the stupid flowers anyway, so he does. It’s not expensive so Erwin keeps ordering it for him in the supplies even though Levi doubts it’s doing anything.

            The way dirt and filth start bothering him a little less happens so slowly that it’s imperceptible at first. He realizes suddenly, jarringly, after a couple months of eating bits of the flowers every day, that it has lessened. He’s exhausted after getting back from a day training, and he falls into bed and closes his eyes. He snaps them open a second later. He’s laid down in bed without changing.

            It’s shocking. It’s even more shocking when it doesn’t send him into a complete and utter panic. He still gets up and quickly fills the tub with enough water to wash off, still feels his skin crawling, still then changes his sheets before lying down on the bed again. It makes him incredibly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t panic.

            The next day he sees Hange in the mess hall and immediately goes up to her. “If I take more of your flower would it help more?” he says.

            She jolts, then looks at him. “You think it’s helping? That’s great! I couldn’t find any definitive studies on it’s effects so I was only guessing on the dosage, you could certainly try something higher – wait, let me grab a piece of paper, I want to write all this down – it’s been two months now, right? A delayed effect then – I wonder if that’s standard or specific to you…”

            He starts eating a little more each day. Hange consults with some doctor while they’re on a trip into wall Sina, and then gives him even more and tells him that it’s the maximum amount he can have daily safely, and to notify her if he starts experiencing any of a large number of side effects which she lists out for him.

            It doesn’t get rid of the itch under his skin or the times when he feels like he’s splintering apart, the pressure unbearable and his mind breaking, but it softens things on a day to day basis. He doesn’t explicitly tell Erwin and Hange “thank you” but he teases Erwin and listens to Hange ramble and he knows they hear it anyway.

Chapter 4: Blood

Summary:

For the first time, Erwin finds Levi during his panic rather than afterwards.

There's also a bathtub and a book.

            It’s not until maybe six months after the Titan invasion of wall Maria that it really sets in. Levi doesn’t know why it didn’t bother him more earlier. He supposes his injuries and the following back pain masked a lot of it, and then fighting had kept him busy, but it’s the start of the effort to take back wall Maria that suddenly jars him back into the reality of their situation.

            All those missions outside the wall, all for nothing. All those soldiers killed. And now they can’t even get to outside the wall, because all of the interior of wall Maria is gone to them as well. An entire ring of fields and villages and forests, gone. A quarter of their population suddenly crushed behind wall Rosa.

            When Erwin tells him the government’s plan to send the refugees out on a mission to take back wall Maria, Levi is very quiet.

            “Why don’t they just line them up and shoot them then,” Levi says. “It would be more humane.”

            He thinks about doing just that. Of taking the frightened, exhausted refugees and telling them that anyone who would like to be shot to please line up. A great number of them do just that anyway. Suicides are so common that they stop reporting them. They just list them with the number of dead.

            It’s a complete and utter waste of time to attempt to take back wall Maria. It’s not even just that they are essentially slaughtering a quarter of the population, it’s that the Survey Corps is forced to waste time on the endeavor, waste lives on the endeavor, when they should be attempting to do something about the threat. Sending terrified civilians to their death is not a good use of their time.

            Not that these deaths don’t weigh on Levi. He watches civilians eaten. He watches them cry and scream afterwards. He watches men and women lie still, refusing to get up, almost comatose, and be left behind. He watches them beg. He hardens and remains impassive because he has nothing to say which will comfort or save them. They scream at him. Call him a bastard and a murderer, call him heartless and cruel. He doesn’t try to refute their claims. He’s not sure they aren’t true.

            Despite the horror of the Titans, they lose far more people to disease and starvation than to those creatures.

            (Levi keeps his face covered, a scarf pulled over his mouth and nose, claims he’s cold. He avoids the dying and the dead. He barks at recruits to handle them instead, feels guilty about it, but still does it. He stocks up on soap before every mission outside wall Rosa. He eats hardly anything but the pre-packaged rations, buys his own food to bring on trips past the wall.)

            No one comes out of that useless slaughter unscathed, even if they are survivors. Levi knows he’s not special, the way it eats at him. He stops sleeping. He has never been able to sleep easily, but insomnia takes over fully now. He gets used to only sleeping a few hours each night, and his body adjusts, miraculously, to the change. He finds he’s not tired anyway.

            There are only a few hundred civilians left when they try to harvest some of the wild plants that kept growing after all humans left. Levi has gone two days without sleeping at all when they do this. Forty-eight hours. The entire time they’ve been outside the wall on this trip. And even his body can’t take that without some consequences. Sleep deprivation sets in, and yet he doesn’t want to sleep. He hears their screams in his sleep, sees their blood and Titan’s teeth, severed limbs, torsos, heads, in his sleep.

            (He’ll blame his reaction on this lack of sleep later.)

They actually manage to get quite a bit of food, before a Titan attacks them as they’re getting ready to head out. They don’t have enough Survey Corps members left, and Levi is closest to it.

            He jumps and shoves a civilian man out of the way, just as the Titan bends down to pick him up. With two quick slashes the Titan’s fingers are gone. Levi attaches to a building, reels himself up, and then goes for the neck. He hears screams to his left and turns to see another Titan, an abnormal, with a woman in his fingers, bringing it to his mouth.

            Levi gets to his mouth just in time, slashes at its fingers and jaw, the woman sliding free, and then spins around to get its neck. He grabs the woman mid fall and grapples out of the way, to the ground.

            He feels the blood before he sees it – warm and soaking through his jacket to his shirt, spraying over his neck and face. He puts her down to see blood spraying from her neck, really spraying, her eyes wide and terrified, her hands over the wound.

            “Shit,” Levi says. He presses his hands on top of hers, over her neck, trying to stem the gushing blood. He thinks about pinching the artery, but by the time he’s pried her hands away to try to get at the actual wound, she’s dead.

            He stares down at her listless eyes, hears his breathing in his throat. There are no other injuries. A small cut, probably from a tooth or maybe the Titan’s nails, on her neck, and that’s it. He got to her in time to save her. He was there, she wasn’t eaten, wasn’t mutilated. One tiny cut, the edge of a tooth, the nick of a blade (could it have been his blade? Could he have done this?). Pure, terrible luck. She should be alive.

            Levi doesn’t have time to think about it because they’re gathering themselves up on horseback and Erwin is yelling at him. Levi’s ears ring and he is covered in blood. He wipes it out of his eyes, shakes it off his fingers and hands. He pulls off his jacket but his shirt is soaked too. It looks like he bathed in the stuff. He tastes it against his lips. It stings his eyes. His hands shake and he yells at the civilians anyway, directs them to the horses, grabs his own horse. They ride back towards the wall but don’t cross it. They ride to an abandoned village instead. They take up residence in the houses. As soon as a watch is set, the sun coming down, Levi finds a well and an empty, dented bucket and starts pumping on the lever. He brings up bucket after bucket of freezing water and dumps it over himself. He shivers and shakes and his hands keep moving, arms burning from the effort, pumping water up into the bucket, pouring it over himself.

            The well is hidden between two houses and Levi is glad for that because he strips out of his clothes and retrieves the soap from his bag and starts scrubbing all over his skin, and even if the well had been in the center of camp, he probably would have done it anyway. At least this way it wouldn’t freak everyone else out. The great Levi, Humanity’s Strongest, insanely washing blood from his skin.

            He gargles soapy water over and over again, lets the taste flood his mouth, and then brushes his teeth over and over again as well. The sun is completely down now, the skies black. He can still taste blood on his lips, her blood, in his mouth. He spits and spits and his lips crack and bleed and then he’s tasting his own blood and it tastes like hers and he can’t make it stop.

            He scrubs his clothing as well, scrubs and scrubs and still can’t seem to get all the blood out. He gives up after a bit in favor of washing his body again. His skin bleeds and his own blood drips onto him and his vision swims and it feels like her blood, her blood.

            One drop, two drops, on his arm, his pale skin in front of him. It’s dripping from his cracked lips but it feels like it’s coming from nowhere, like he has no control over it. He scrubs it off. The rag he’s been using is pink. It’s not clean either.

            He can feel it on his skin, he can feel it there. He drops the rag, the useless rag, pink, stained, bloodied too. He scrapes at his skin with his fingernails. There’s blood under his fingernails, dirt around the cuticles. He tears at his arms and his thighs, then his stomach, his hips. He bleeds. It makes him more frantic, makes him keep going. He dumps water over himself. He’s freezing and shaking and he can’t get clean, can’t get the blood off, can’t stop hearing the crunch of soldier’s bones, her listless eyes (they were blue, almost grey, they looked like his own), and the blood spraying. He has never seen blood spray like that before.

            Suddenly there are hands on his shoulders and he reaches up, grasping around a wrist with both of his hands before he even thinks, heaving it over him, away from him, trying to flip whoever it is.

            “Levi, it’s me. It’s just me,” the person, the man says. Levi’s vision blurs. There’s blood in his eyes. Erwin, it’s Erwin. Erwin’s hands come back, kneeling, and grab his wrists.

            “Let go,” Levi says. He pulls them away. He plunges his hands back into the bucket, watches blood swirl in the water, the water contaminated too now. He dumps it out and stands to get more from the pump.

            “Levi, let me do it,” Erwin says. Levi slaps his hands away. His fingers are numb on the metal pump. He fills the bucket again. “Levi, it’s freezing out here, you need to get inside.”

            “No,” Levi says. He crouches again and wrings out the cloth, takes the soap and scrubs it over his bleeding legs. It’s her blood, it’s still on him, he can taste it.

            “Levi, you’re clean,” Erwin says. “Levi, you’re –”

            Levi rakes his nails down his thighs and feels nothing, watches blood well up, skin tearing a little more. It’s bright red, his skin bright red in the cold. He can’t get rid of the blood, he can’t wash it off, can’t scrape it off, can’t get rid of it.

            Erwin grabs his hands again and Levi tries to pull them away but Erwin grasps tight this time.

            Levi snarls. “Let go,” he says.

            “Levi, you need to calm down,” Erwin says. “You’re hurting yourself, you need to calm down.”

            “Let me fucking go you bastard,” Levi says. He pulls at his arms and when Erwin braces against it, Levi spins, falling to the side and throwing a knee up, to hit Erwin in the head. Erwin dodges anyway and then suddenly Levi’s back is on the ground and he’s struggling but he can’t move, his wrists pinned, Erwin over him. “Let go,” he yells, “let me fucking go.”

            “Breathe,” Erwin says.

            “Let go,” Levi says. He keeps struggling. Panic grips his chest, his whole body tensing, seizing. He can’t move, he has to move, he has to get clean, he can taste the blood, it’s blurring his vision, he sees it on his hands, now on Erwin’s hands, his pants, as well.

            Levi tries to bring an elbow up, tries to hit him with his own head, tries to pull Erwin down, tries to knee him in the groin, and Erwin just stays there, pinning him down. Levi struggles and screams and curses until he exhausts himself, left panting and still and he doesn’t know if he’s crying or if that’s blood still dripping down his face.

            Erwin slowly, slowly lets go of Levi’s wrists and sits up, then moves off of him. Levi stays there for a second, staring up at the sky, and then finally sits as well. His vision swims. He tastes blood.

            “Let’s get these bandaged,” Erwin says. Levi looks at him. Levi’s still naked, he realizes dimly. He doesn’t really care, especially in that moment, but he thinks it must look funny, in a pathetic way. “Here,” Erwin says, and he drapes his own cloak around Levi’s shoulders but Levi flinches away.

            “No,” he says sharply. The cloak is dirty. The cloak probably has blood on it too, Titan or human.

            “You need to warm up,” Erwin says. Levi’s whole body is numb. He grabs at his bag. “Let me do your legs first then,” Erwin says.

            Erwin gently washes the blood off Levi’s thighs, and then he wraps careful bandages around them. It feels tight and uncomfortable, but Levi runs his fingers over the white cloth and thinks it at least looks clean.

            Levi pulls on new underwear and pants. Erwin wraps up his arms in the same way, and then Levi pulls on a shirt. Erwin gives him a cloth to hold to his lips, and then looks at his hands and frowns. He bandages them as well as he can. All his knuckles are raw and bleeding, like he’d gotten into a long fistfight without knowing how to correctly throw a punch. Erwin dabs at Levi’s forehead, and Levi is dizzy. He hadn’t realized he’d scraped his head. Had he done it earlier, in battle, or had he done it to himself?

            “You need sleep,” Erwin says. “And something to eat.”

            Levi laughs, abrupt. He sounds deranged. “Can’t sleep,” he says. He grins wryly, down at the ground in front of him.

            “Well you’re gonna try,” Erwin says. “Come on, we’ll go back to my room.”

            “No,” Levi says, stopping.

            Erwin frowns at him. “We’ve set up on the south side, where there’s less destruction. Several of the houses are intact, and I’ve set my stuff up in –”

            “These houses are full of dust and mold and spoiled food and dirt,” Levi says. “I’m not sleeping in one.”

            Erwin looks at him like he’s going to argue, and then changes his mind. “Fine,” he says. “We’ll set up a tarp outside and start a fire.”

            Erwin sets up the tarp. Levi watches. All the civilians and the soldiers are already either asleep or on watch. Erwin makes a fire, and then waits until Levi rolls out his bedroll and lies down underneath the tarp, watching the flames flicker and crack. He gets about four hours of sleep in total.

 

 

 

 

            When he wakes up his skin stings everywhere. He feels like he’s been in a fistfight – from the ache in his jaw and the split lip to his hands cracked and bleeding to the total body ache. He hisses when he moves, skin on his wrists and thighs protesting.

            “You really did a number on yourself,” Erwin says. Levi shoots him a look. He had forgotten that Erwin was there, until that moment. Erwin looks at him cautiously, half sitting up in the tent, bedroll set next to his.

            Levi pulls up the sleeve on his left arm, looks at the careful bandages there. He remembers the desperation from last night. He remembers the panic. It makes him want to start scrubbing all over again.

            “What happened?” Erwin says.

            This is pointless, Levi thinks. Erwin will not understand and Levi doesn’t have the answers he’s looking for.

            “I got bled on,” he says.

            “So you decided to make yourself bleed instead?”

            Levi says nothing. His skin itches. He wants his room back at the base. He wants his tub and the hot water that he boils and his clean sheets. He wants it viscerally.

            Erwin sighs. “What was it?” he says.

            I want to die, Levi thinks. “I tasted blood,” he says.

            Erwin looks at him and Levi looks back and refuses to look away. Erwin doesn’t either. Levi wonders how long that could go on, who would look away first. He thinks they’d be there for days. “You’ve been eating those flowers, the ones that Hange gave you?” Erwin says.

            “Flowers apparently can’t fix the really fucked up parts of my brain,” Levi says.

            “Please explain it to me,” Erwin says. Levi wonders how many times he’s said that to him.

            “I told you. I got bled on.”

            “It bothers you, other people’s blood?”

            “It bothers me when I get soaked in it.” (When it covered his skin, filled his mouth, slid into his eyes, caked his hair.)

            “So you decided to scrape yourself raw?”

            Decided would be a strong way of putting it. “You were there,” he says.

            Erwin is quiet for a long moment. Levi doesn’t want to get up yet.

            “Why didn’t you come get me?” Erwin says.

            Levi hears the dart of pain there – hurt and a dash of betrayal. Erwin isn’t trying to hide it. His voice is low.

            Levi doesn’t know how to explain that mad rush, that he couldn’t possibly have thought to get Erwin because his entire mind was screaming at him to get clean, to get the blood off him, that there was not a single iota of space left in his mind for any other thoughts.

            “I needed it gone,” he says.

            “Right that second?”

            “Yes.”

            “Are you ever going to let me help you?” Erwin says.

            “What do you think you’ve been doing for the past year and a half?”

            “Talking in circles with you mostly,” Erwin says. “Sitting in your room while you glare at me after the fact.”

            Levi doesn’t say anything for a long few seconds. “I couldn’t have gotten you,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t in control.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says after a pause, an accepting tone. “How are you today?”

            “Shitty,” Levi says. “Everything hurts and I still want to take another ten baths.”

            “We’ll be back tonight,” Erwin says, and Levi knows this already. “Would you wait for me, before you take a bath?”

            “Why, so you can watch me while I wash myself?” Levi says. “Pervert.”

            “So I can make sure you don’t tear yourself open again,” Erwin says, exasperated, and then corrects himself. “So I can help you not tear yourself open again.”

            “Fine,” Levi says. “You can come watch me bathe, fucking creep, but I’m not waiting for you.” I couldn’t wait if I wanted to. “So you’ll just have to hurry up with your report while I heat up water.”

            “Thank you,” Erwin says and it leaves a bad taste in Levi’s mouth, that Erwin would thank him for this.

            Levi pushes himself up and collects his things while Erwin does the same. He’s rolling up his bedroll when Erwin makes to move out from under the tarp.

            “But Erwin,” Levi says, and Erwin turns back to him. Levi’s voice is dark and serious. “You had better not ever hold me down like that again.”

            Erwin opens his mouth to say something, but he sees the heavy line of Levi’s mouth and the way his eyes are not narrowed but wide open, expression forceful, and he closes it again.

            “Okay,” he says. He doesn’t make it a promise.

 

 

            Levi almost has the tub filled when Erwin knocks on his door. Normally he doesn’t indulge like this – it is simply too much of a waste of water – but he wants his fucking bath and he feels like he deserves it. Normally he heats up one or two buckets of water and stands in the tub while using it to wash himself.

            Erwin walks in after he hears some grunted confirmation from inside. The room is very warm from the fire that Levi has going. He pushes the coals around once he’s finished, dispersing it so the flames go out and it’s just the red and orange coals sitting over ash that burn. There is a neat stack of wood next to it.

            Erwin looks up just in time to see a book hurtling towards his head. He catches it before it hits him and looks down at it.

            “Might as well make yourself useful instead of ogling me the whole time,” Levi says while he pulls off his shirt. “I’m on page thirty-two.”

            Erwin opens it while he sits down on Levi’s chair. It’s only a couple feet from the tub. Erwin wonders if Levi is actually bothered by his presence while he bathes or if this is just something to fill the silence and thus cut the awkwardness.

            And then Erwin watches Levi hesitate before unwrapping the bandages around his wrists. His fingers still over his arm and he tenses almost imperceptibly before pulling them loose. Erwin changes his mind – he thinks Levi wants a distraction, something to focus on that isn’t tearing into his skin again, feeling like he has to tear into his skin again.

            Levi looks sharply up at him. “Oi,” he says, “you going to read that or what?”

            Erwin looks down and begins to read.

            Levi takes a long bath. Every minute or so Erwin finds himself glancing up, looking to make sure Levi isn’t dragging his fingernails across his skin again, isn’t using that cloth to rub his skin too hard, isn’t staring at some part of his body the way Erwin has learned he only stares when he starts feeling uncomfortable enough that he has to do something to cope.

            Levi takes a long bath but he doesn’t treat himself too harshly, so Erwin reads until Levi finally comes out of the tub and dries himself off. He waits before getting dressed, takes bandages to wrap up his thighs, wrists, and hands again.

            “Do you want help?” Erwin asks.

            “I want you to keep reading,” Levi says without looking up, a harsh tone. Erwin has learned to recognize the strain underneath it. He keeps reading.

            He glances up more though, watches Levi rebandage the wounds. He gets a look at his skin, raw and starting to scab over in places, red lines.

            It had been absolutely terrifying, finding him like that the night before. Erwin has never seen Levi like that, never seen anyone like that. From Levi, who is always calm and cold and with that expressionless face, it had been absolutely disturbing. Erwin wants to ask if it is always like that, if that is always how he reacts, if that was what he’d been feeling the year and a half before, when Erwin told him he couldn’t go wash in the river.

            When Levi finishes pulling on clean clothes, Erwin stops reading, and it is silent for a moment before Levi turns to him. “What page?” he says.

            Erwin looks down. “Sixty-four.”

            “Fuck I’m shit at reading,” he says. “It’s taken me hours to get thirty pages and you do just as much in one night.”

            “I’m glad you’ve been practicing,” Erwin says.

            “You were right for once, I need something to do,” Levi says.

            “Will you be alright now?” Erwin asks.

            Levi takes a bucket and gathers some of the bath water with it before splashing it onto the fire. It sputters with steam that clouds his face for a moment.

            “I’ll be fine,” he says, “what are you going to do, anyway, sleep here?”

            “I would if you needed me to,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks at him strangely for a long moment, his body still. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says.

            “Okay,” Erwin says. “Come get me if you need me though.”

            Levi gives him one slow nod.

Chapter 5: Arch

Summary:

Levi injures himself again. The fallout is less than ideal.

            They’re out past wall Rosa, just the Survey Corps, a small group (almost all of the refugees are dead now, the few hundred left are finally allowed to leave the hellscape outside wall Rosa). They are scouting a route towards a small city, trying to establish a supply chain so that they can hopefully gather usable supplies from the city and get them back past wall Rosa.

            There are three Titans that they run into on the way in but none are abnormal. Levi is the first to jump up. He cuts down one and it looks effortless. Erwin will never understand how Levi is able to make killing Titans look easy. Another soldier swings up to kill the second while Levi heads to the third. Erwin is up as well, ready. Levi kills the second Titan just as the third grabs his grappling hook and yanks.

            Levi goes rushing forward, but he’s able to redirect himself, or course he is. The other soldier, not so much. Erwin’s grapples hook into the Titans skin and he’s just flying up when Levi spins around to cut the other soldier free from the Titan’s grasp, just as he is being lifted to its mouth. In doing so Levi kicks off of the Titan’s teeth and shoots away. Erwin is already at the base of its neck, slashing, but he still sees the way Levi’s back arches as the grappling hook and the gas takes him abruptly away from the Titan, and the angle is too awkward, off center. Erwin sees the moment Levi’s back arches just too far, and his scream is almost drowned out by the gas canister firing.

            Almost. The titan goes down and Erwin swings to where Levi and the soldier have rolled to the ground, where Levi is convulsing and screaming.

            It’s loud and guttural and deep. His voice has gotten lower instead of higher with the screams. He writhes on the ground. The other soldier kneels, shaky, looking at Levi with his hands up, like he doesn’t know what to do. Erwin turns around, barks orders.

            “I need a stretcher now,” he says. “Dara!”

            She is the only soldier from medical on their team today. She comes running, a kit in hand. By the time she reaches them Levi is silent and still. He’s passed out.

            As much as Erwin wants to turn right back around, he can’t. He has a job to do. He prays Levi doesn’t wake up before they get back. Dara assures him that the possibility of bone damage is very small. Which means he’s aggravated the injury from before. Erwin thinks of the cuts on his arms, careful, small. They load Levi in a wagon and keep going. It’s only a one day mission – they were never planning on staying overnight – and Erwin is thankful for that.

 

 

 

            Levi wakes up when they’re about two hours from the wall. He wakes up and he jerks upwards and then screams.

            “Easy, Captain,” someone says. “You need to lie still until we get back inside the wall.”

            Levi can’t see, he can’t think. His back is burning, it’s on fire, and this time it’s a particular spot, his lower back left side. It hurts so fucking bad. His first thought is that he’s been impaled by something.

            He stutters and leans up enough to look. There is no blood. He doesn’t see anything protruding from his side. Someone presses a hand against his chest, gentle, but he grabs it, tightens his fingers and looks upwards.

            “It’s alright,” she says. Levi’s vision flickers, spots over his eyes. “It’s okay, just lie back. We’re almost back to the wall.”

            He remembers, flashes. He’d felt it – a tearing sensation, a moment of shit before the pain hit.

            He tries to breathe. The woman – Dara, he remembers – gives him water. He nearly chokes on it. Every stone they hit, every bump, every pothole and missed paver – it sends a jolt through his back that is agonizing. He groans the entire way, sinking into half-consciousness.

 

 

            When Levi wakes up in Medical, Erwin is there. Levi wakes up and doesn’t know where he is at first, thinks he’s back in Medical after he got thrown through that building, when he first hurt his back. He’s overwhelmed by the pain and his vision is blurry, spotting in and out. His thoughts are jumbled, tumbling around amid the riptide of pain.

            He looks awful. Shoulders tense and face turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut. Erwin takes his hand when it’s clear he’s waking up.

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says, “we’re back inside the wall. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

            “I’m fucking not,” Levi gets out. His voice cracks and it is simultaneously the most shocking and most distressing thing that Erwin has ever heard. “It fucking hurts.”

            Levi turns his head sharply to the other side, squeezes down on Erwin’s hand and wrenches it forward, before moving it back again. His head tilts back and his mouth scrunches like he’s going to let out a sob. Tears fall down his face and it’s horribly familiar. Erwin remembers sitting here almost a year earlier, with Levi completely still, tensed, silent tears.

            (He remembers rushing in when the doctor was looking at Levi’s ribs, Levi unconscious. He remembers coming in and his face paling, stomach dropping, he remembers the days later, hearing that Levi had gotten out of bed by himself, gone to take a bath, and Erwin had been terrified.)

            “No,” Levi says, in the same broken, cracking voice. “It’s done, ‘s done, supposed to be done, supposed to be over.” His words slur and he opens his eyes for a second and they’re glassy and unfocused. Erwin realizes Levi’s still not completely lucid, which helps explain the tears and wavering voice. Levi focuses in on him, but only for a second before they go hazy again. “Erwin,” he says, and then he lets out a sharp sound of pain, eyes squeezing shut again. “It hurts.”

            Erwin wants to be selfish. He wants to tell a doctor to get Levi painkillers. They’ve just gotten a batch in. Twenty vials, they sent him. Twenty. It had felt like a slap in the face. The hospitals in Sina could really only spare them twenty vials?

            He can’t do it. He knows this and yet he watches Levi cry and writhe, groan as his words turn unintelligible, mumbled and slurred to incoherency, eyes completely glazed, and Levi has always looked younger than his age but he’s always behaved older than it. Erwin can almost forget that Levi’s only twenty-one years old and that is not really very old at all. Old for the Survey Corps though. Most are dead before then.

            He has to think about that. He has to think about the soldier who will have to endure an amputation or a surgery without painkillers if Erwin orders a doctor to give it to Levi. He has to think about standing there and saying to them (and it will probably be someone younger than Levi) that they will not have any painkillers for the procedure, because Erwin was selfish and weak and gave it to his Captain instead. (There will be doctors who will have to say it anyway, have to be the ones to tell soldiers who are already in pain that there are no painkillers, and hand them a bottle of wine, when the twenty vials run out.)

            So Erwin sits there while Levi falls back into his half-conscious state, moaning and mumbling unintelligently, until he finally quiets and falls fully asleep.

 

 

 

 

            Levi doesn’t remember any of it the next day. He remembers the Titan and the moment his back arched too far, the tearing sensation, and then nothing until he wakes up in medical with confusion and an aching back. There’s no one there.

            Levi registers the back pain and his stomach drops for a second before he realizes that the ache is very manageable. Being in medical at all makes his heart start to beat faster and his stomach to turn like he’s ill. He tentatively tries to sit up, but that only makes it twinge and not sear, so he sits up, and then stands. He looks at himself for other injuries, but there are only a few bruises. He stands up, holds his breath, but his back – lower back, left side – merely twinges again. He finds his clothes folded neatly on a counter in the room. He’s wearing the typical white ones again. He grabs them, pulls on his socks and boots, and then leaves.

            He heads back to his room to wash and change and then get something to eat. It’s around noon, he realizes.

            He hates medical. He hadn’t really realized how much he now hates it – had he always hated it? He’d never spent a lot of time there before he’d gotten himself thrown through a wall. He’d spent two weeks in a horrible amount of pain there though, and it was enough to give him a bad taste in his mouth, a feeling of dread, whenever he was there now.

            It was irritating. It was irrational. There was no point feeling so upset just by being in a certain wing of the building. He’s annoyed at himself, that he finds it so upsetting.

            He still leaves as quickly as possible.

            When he walks into the mess hall, several people glance over at him. When Levi turns and Erwin sees him, Erwin stops, eyes widening, and makes his way quickly over to him.

            “Levi,” he says, “how are you feeling?”

            “My back is sore,” Levi says. “How did the rest of the mission go? I don’t remember anything after that damned Titan.”

            “Fine, no more casualties,” Erwin says. “Are you really alright?” He looks at him anxiously and Levi feels a twinge of apprehension.

            “Yeah, it’s not bad now,” Levi says. “How long was I out? Has it been more than a day?”

            “No, it was just yesterday that you got hurt,” Erwin says, “you just – you were in a lot of pain.”

            “Oh,” Levi says, finding it unsettling that he’s lost a chunk of time when he apparently was not asleep for all of it. “I don’t remember,” he says.

            “That’s probably for the best,” Erwin says. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

           

 

 

            Erwin never tells him any more than that. He doesn’t tell Levi that he’d cried, that he’d been in so much pain he was incoherent, that he’d looked so horribly young and vulnerable, that he’d started rambling about the pain. He wonders if it would embarrass Levi. He thinks it would embarrass most soldiers, but Levi has never been just another soldier. Erwin thinks it would be enough though, be enough to make him feel ashamed or embarrassed or at least very uncomfortable.

            That’s not why Erwin doesn’t tell him though. Erwin doesn’t tell him because he doesn’t want to jog his memory, and because when Erwin had told him that he’d been in a lot of pain, his mouth had flipped down on one end, just the slightest bit, and he’d gone still for half a beat. He’d looked unsettled. Erwin doesn’t think he needs to know the details then. It’s enough that he feels better.

 

 

 

It only takes a few days before Levi’s back no longer hurts at all. Two weeks after the incident he’s training with ODM gear, swinging through the trees with his squad. They’re participating in a training exercise with a couple of other squads, all under Mike’s direction. The objective is to collect a number of bags while avoiding being hit with small leather balls, which one squad is throwing.

            After three rounds of Levi’s squad winning purely because Levi gets 75 percent of the bags without being hit, Mike grows frustrated and tells the squad throwing the balls that the person who manages to hit Levi won’t have any stable duty for a month. Levi scowls at him.

            The next round every single soldier with a ball ignores everyone else in favor of Levi. He has to duck and dodge and it is considerably more difficult to get the bags. He’s gotten two of the twenty when he catches a ball out of the corner of his eye, hurtling towards him. He spins and uses a blade to cut it cleanly in half.

            “Levi!” Mike barks.

            Levi looks over at him, one eyebrow raised.

            “I did not say you could slice the balls!”

            “You didn’t say I couldn’t,” Levi says. He takes off before Mike can tell him he can’t too.

            He’s spinning around a corner when a soldier pops up into view, right in front of him, hand extended with a ball in it. It seems he’s decided to try to tag Levi with it instead of throwing the thing, and Levi isn’t expecting it. He twists to get out of the way, throwing himself backwards and to the side without looking first. He slams into a branch hard enough to make him let out an oof but not so hard that it should injure him beyond a small bruise, not so hard that he should lose momentum or balance. He’s already shooting a grappling hook away, to spin around the tree, but the second his back connects with the branch his vision whites out.

            He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t even really feel the pain for a couple seconds. His vision just goes white and his body numb, like he’s been pulled straight out of it for a second. He swings past the tree by the grappling hook that he’s already shot, hanging there for a moment before he falls to the ground. he’s only a few feet off the ground, but he crumples when he drops.

            He doesn’t notice any of that though. He registers hitting the branch while avoiding the soldier with the ball in his hand, and then he’s in blinding pain on the ground.

            He gasps, no screams this time, just gasping and gasping and it was so unexpected, it was just a training exercise, there is none of the adrenaline of fighting titans and he can’t seem to catch up to what is going on at first, surprise and shock almost as prevalent as the pain.

            His vision clears and he makes out Mike, then Eld. Eld looks worried but Mike’s face is just pinched tight, resigned almost. Levi can’t breathe.

            “There’s a stretcher on the way, just try to relax, Levi,” Mike says, voice low and steady.

            Levi can’t say anything. He claws at the ground. His vision is spotty on the edges and his eyes slip over to Eld, his mouth open, still gasping.

            Eld gives him a pained smile. “Focus on breathing,” he says, “we’ll get you back to medical.”

            Levi hears Mike yelling something at the other soldiers. He sees Gunther grimacing beyond Eld’s shoulder, sees another member of his own squad, a frightened expression. When Levi’s mind clears enough from the shock, he squeezes his eyes shut, thinks, pass out, pass out, just fucking let me pass out already.

            He doesn’t pass out. He’s painfully awake while Mike and Eld sit with him, painfully awake when Eld tells Mike that he’ll stay with Levi if Mike wants to go back to directing the training exercise. Mike contemplates it and then nods. He gives Levi’s shoulder a light squeeze before he leaves.

            When the medical team arrives with a stretcher and begin to try to lift him, Levi screams.

            “Stop,” he barks out, grabs one of the medic’s wrists and squeezes tightly. He glares at the medic with his teeth gritted, commanding.

            “Captain, we just have to get you on the stretcher,” Eld says, putting a hand over Levi’s wrist but not trying to pull it away from the medic.

            “Leave me here,” Levi says with an exhale, letting go. His wrist drops. He grits his teeth. “It’s not gonna be any fucking better on a bed in medical.”

            “Captain Levi, you should really see a doct-” one of them starts.

            Levi cuts them off with a growl. Before he can say anything, Eld cuts in.

            “No, he’s right,” Eld says. “He’s not injured, this has happened before.”

            Levi is grateful. He’s more grateful than he wants to admit, when Eld gets the medics to leave, when he sits against a tree next to him and doesn’t comment when tears start to fall down the sides of Levi’s face. He offers him water, and Levi shakes his head. He can’t even tilt up without the pain getting worse.

            He doesn’t move at all for an hour. The pain finally begins to settle then. He sits up very, very slowly.

            Eld gives him a questioning look, and Levi nods. Eld stands up, and then helps Levi get up as well. They walk back to the base. It takes forever, and Levi stops to rest a couple of times along the way. When they finally make it back and Levi is in his own room again the pain has lessoned some more. He’s exhausted and he washes slowly and changes and then lies down in bed and actually falls into a doze for another hour or so.

            He wakes up to a knock on his door. He’s expecting Erwin but instead Eld comes in.

            “Brought you some food, and some tea,” he says. Levi places the food on a small table but takes the tea and sits down on his bed. Eld stays standing, leaning against the wall by the door.

            “The recruit who almost tagged you with a ball is damn near pissing himself,” Eld says, the hint of a smile playing on his face. “The soldiers are asking him what the hell he did to you and are making bets on whether you’ll actually kill him or just beat him to a pulp.”

            Levi rolls his eyes. “Tch,” he says, “as if he could actually hurt me.”

            “Nah, just trees,” Eld says. “How are you?”

            “Better,” Levi says. He rolls his shoulders, winces when it causes the pain to flare up. “Thank you.”

            Eld nods. When Levi doesn’t say anything else he tells him he’ll see him tomorrow and leaves.

            Levi sits there for a moment longer, holding his tea. Then he gets out of bed.

 

 

 

            Erwin goes to Levi’s room around nine that night. He’d wanted to go as soon as he’d heard what happened, but he’d had a meeting and there were letters that had to be sent out before morning and a report that he had to hear and he’s not able to get away until night. He walks to Levi’s room and knocks.

            There’s no answer, but Erwin can hear noise from inside. Some kind of shuffling, back and forth noise. He knocks again, and then finds the door not locked, so he opens it.

            Levi is lying on his back inside his fireplace, with a handkerchief pulled up over his mouth and nose and another over his hair. He’s scrubbing at the stones with a rough sponge, a bucket of water and a cloth next to him. He’s wearing gloves and Erwin can see sweat stains on his shirt.

            The smell of bleach hits him and he takes in the room in another second. The bed is made crisply, the tub out of the way so that Levi has more room at the fireplace. It’s shining so much that Erwin can see the floor reflected on its side. There’s a mop lying against one wall and every surface in the room is shining. Erwin wasn’t aware that Levi’s room could even get any cleaner, but apparently he’d underestimated Levi’s cleaning skill. Or at least his propensity to clean.

            “Levi,” Erwin says.

            Levi only grunts in response, eyes focused on the inside walls of his fireplace. The stones are completely free of ash as far as Erwin can see, the front sides and bottom obviously already having been cleaned.

            Erwin shuts the door behind him and walks a few steps, closer to Levi.

            “Levi,” he says again.

            Levi doesn’t break eye contact with the stones he’s scrubbing. He makes no response at all to Erwin.

            Erwin sits down on the chair in Levi’s room. He can hear Levi’s breathing, slightly elevated with the force of his scrubbing.

            “Mike told me what happened,” he says. Levi still makes no indication that he’s heard. “I’m glad Eld was there with you.” Erwin knows, despite Levi never saying anything of the kind, that Levi hates being alone when he’s in that much pain. Erwin thinks it’s something about being grounded, about not getting lost in his own head, his own body really. Erwin watches Levi shift slightly to scrub at an area to the right, but the movement is fluid, completely oblivious to Erwin. “I’m sorry this is happening again,” Erwin says.

            Levi pauses. His expression intensifies for a second, eyes going unfocused and still, and then they flick to Erwin, sharp.

            “It’s not happening again,” Levi spits. His eyes go back to the stone and he starts scrubbing again.

            Ah, Erwin thinks. He pauses before moving forward carefully. “I hope it doesn’t occur again,” he says slowly, “but maybe you should go see a doctor again, to see if there are any stretches or –”

            “It’s not going to happen again,” Levi says, biting, fast, as if he can’t contain or control the words. His mouth has gone tighter and he’s scrubbing more viscously at the stone.

            “Levi,” Erwin says, “I think we should prepare –”

            “Shut the fuck up,” Levi says. “Shut the fuck up or get out, Erwin.”

            “Levi,” Erwin says. “We need –”

            Levi is up and standing and in front of him so fast that Erwin could swear he’d simply materialized there. “Get out,” Levi says.

            Levi always looks dangerous, but right now he looks like he could snap Erwin’s neck before Erwin even registered the hands against his skin. He looks like he’s about ready to do it.

            “No,” Erwin says.

            There’s a second where Levi’s eyes seem to shrink, narrowing, expression tightening, just one second of stillness, and then he’s shoving Erwin backwards, hard, hard enough that Erwin’s back hits the closed door.

            “Get out!” Levi says, and this time he screams it. It sends chills up Erwin’s back. The entire barracks is going to hear it.

            When Erwin doesn’t move, he fully expects Levi to punch him. He doesn’t. His expression goes from furious to wildly uncontrolled. Erwin has a moment for the color to drain from his face, for him to realize all at once that he just made a mistake, that he should have left and come back, or better yet, kept his mouth shut and sat there and waited for Levi to finish cleaning his fireplace before attempting to continue the conversation. He should have let Levi calm down first. He hadn’t.

            There is a teacup shattering apart next to Erwin’s head before Erwin can process that Levi’s thrown it. A plate is next. Neither hit Erwin, neither are close enough for the shards to hit him either. Levi turns around and starts pacing, hands tearing at his hair. Erwin hears his breathing, loud and ragged, now. His hands shake.

            Erwin stays frozen. He doesn’t know now if he should talk or stay silent. Levi punches a beam in the wall. The wood splinters.

            Erwin has always known that Levi was remarkable – that his physical skill was unparalleled and that Erwin was unlikely to find so great a fighter ever again in his lifetime, if there would even be so great a fighter born in the next century, that Levi was truly irreplaceable as a weapon, but it is only now that it hits Erwin just how superhuman Levi’s ability is. He’s moving so quickly that Erwin’s eyes can’t track it. That wood should not splinter. If Erwin punched it with all his strength he’d merely break his knuckles. It does not make sense for Levi, who, despite his clear strength, is half Erwin’s weight, to be able to make that wood splinter. No human should be able to move as fast as Levi does, with as much strength as Levi does.

            Erwin realizes that Levi punched the beam on purpose. If he had punched the wall, even the thick, boarded wall that framed the outside of the building, he would have put a hole through it.

            Levi’s fist rears back and he punches it again. The wood splinters again. Blood flies from his knuckles.

            Suddenly he’s got a knife in his hand, and Erwin only sees the glint of it, because Levi’s back is to him. He doesn’t see where it came from. Levi holds his wrist up, and the knife comes down. He makes five slices, going through his shirt as well, before Erwin can reach him. Blood spatters on the floor. These are not the shallow, controlled lines that Erwin had seen on his skin before. These are deep and fast, and Erwin grabs the wrist that holds the knife but Levi has already dropped it. It clatters to the ground and Levi turns, pulling out of Erwin’s grasp. He grabs a rag and starts scrubbing the floor where the blood fell. More blood drops onto the floor from his wrist and he scrubs that away too. It drips down his fingers and Levi pulls back his tattered shirt sleeve and then scrubs at his skin.

            “Levi, you need to stop,” Erwin says. He thinks of before, when he’d held Levi down and he’d screamed and raged and told Erwin later never to hold him down like that again. Erwin doesn’t think he’d be able to hold him down when Levi is like this. Before Levi had been frantic and single minded, not thinking straight, unable to put any skill or thought into trying to get away, just lashing out. This feels more volatile.

            And Erwin has already tried pushing him once today, and it was what had caused this outburst in the first place.

            “Levi, I need you to breathe,” Erwin says instead, and he forces his voice calm and gentle. “Levi, I need you to try to take deep breaths for me. I need you to slow down and try to breathe please.” Levi keeps scrubbing, alternating between the floor where the blood falls and his own skin. He’s making the wounds much worse. They’re going to need stitches. Erwin keeps his voice calm and soothing. “I’m sorry for pushing,” Erwin says, “I know you’re very upset and I know it still hurts. I need you to take some deep breaths and that will help you feel better. You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

            Levi’s frantic scrubbing slows. Erwin keeps talking, repetitions, telling him to breathe, that it’s alright, that he’s sorry. He keeps talking until Levi stops scrubbing, until he’s just kneeling there with his arm torn open and bleeding in front of him, holding the sponge in his other hand. His head is tilted downward and Erwin can’t see his face.

            Erwin grabs a folded rag from the table, next to another sponge and a bar of soap. He wraps the rag around Levi’s arm tightly. Levi doesn’t move. He looks small on the ground, sitting back on his legs folded underneath him, hunched with his head down. Erwin watches pink then red blossom on the rag as blood stains it.

            Erwin sits a few moments longer. “I’m going to go grab a med kit,” he says. He knows Levi has bandages and alcohol in his room but he doubts he has sutures. He doesn’t want to leave him alone but he sincerely doubts that he could get Levi to leave his room right now.

            Erwin exits the room quietly and slowly, and then once he’s outside it he walks as quickly as possible. The only reason he doesn’t run is because soldiers keep peeking out of their rooms, and he knows others are listening behind their doors. Everyone would have heard Levi scream at him.

            When he gets back, Levi is sitting on his bed, staring at his arm, fiddling with the edge of the rag. There is no blood on the floor and the splinters from the wood and the broken teacup and plate have been swept up. Besides that though it doesn’t look like he’s done anymore manic cleaning. Levi looks up at him when he enters.

            His expression is completely blank, unreadable, but his eyes are present again.

            “You’re going to need some stitches,” Erwin says. “I can do it for you, but I can’t promise they’ll be neat.”

            Levi just nods. He holds out his wrist.

            Erwin pulls over the chair and opens the kit. He takes out the tools he needs and then unwraps Levi’s wrist.

            He cleans it gently first. Levi doesn’t flinch at all. After that Erwin starts to place the stitches.

            At first, Levi doesn’t move or make any noise at all. It has been a long time since Erwin had stitched anyone up, and he winces to himself when his first few stitches are choppy. They get smoother as he goes.

            Levi starts to tense up around the start of the third cut. By the fourth he’s clenching his other hand and looking away, teeth gritted. Erwin doesn’t know if it’s just that his tolerance is wearing down or if it’s more that the adrenaline is fading, but the pain obviously starts to bother him more. By the time Erwin finishes Levi is wincing with every stitch, fingers twitching, opposite leg bouncing.

            Erwin disinfects it afterwards and Levi turns his head sharply to the side, a noise coming out through his teeth. Erwin wraps it up. Without saying anything he takes Levi’s right hand then, and feels around his knuckles and fingers before disinfecting and wrapping that up too.

            When Erwin looks up at Levi’s face again Levi is looking right at him. There is something almost challenging in his expression.

            “Have you ever cut that deeply before?” Erwin asks, because he doesn’t know what to say and it’s the first thing that comes to mind.

            “Yes,” Levi says, flat.

            “Often?”

            “No.”

            “How many times?”

            “I don’t know.”

            Erwin doesn’t believe him. There’s something in Levi’s expression that makes him think that Levi knows exactly how many times he’s cut himself deep enough to require stitches.

            “What happened?” Erwin says softly.

            “You wouldn’t shut up,” Levi says, and his voice is whisper thin. It’s not quite an accusation but his eyes narrow.

            Erwin just looks at him.

            Levi stares back for another couple moments. “I don’t know.” His expression doesn’t change. It’s not a concession.

            “Does your back still hurt?” Erwin says. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer but he asks anyway.

            “Yes.”

            “It’s getting better though?”

            “Yes.”

            “I’m going to go with you to see a doctor tomorrow,” Erwin says.

            Levi frowns.

            “Someone will check your back again, and if they don’t have any suggestions for avoiding another attack of pain then the next time we’re in Sina we’ll see a doctor there.”

            Levi’s frown turns into something closer to a grimace.

            “I hope it won’t happen again too, but it might,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks away and swallows. “If it happens on an expedition, I will die.”

            “Let’s work on it not happening again then,” Erwin says. “Your back might just not have finished healing from this past time you hurt it. You never let a doctor look at it properly afterwards.” Levi says nothing and Erwin tenses a little bit. “Levi what happened?” he says, quieter.

            “I don’t want it to happen again,” he says, voice quiet again.

            “The pain passes,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t have any control over my body when it’s happening,” Levi says. “I can hardly move. I can’t even think.”

            It hits Erwin all at once, the frantic scrubbing, the cuts up his arms, the ice in his voice when he’d told Erwin not to hold him down – controlling his environment, controlling his body, controlling what was happening to him – Erwin wonders how much that sense of control plays in the entire thing.

            “It hurts so much I want to die,” Levi says. “If a titan tried to eat me while it was happening I don’t think I’d even fight back.”

            “Why do you hurt yourself?” Erwin says.

            “You’ve asked that before.”

            “I still don’t understand.”

            “Neither do I. Stop asking me.”

            “Alright,” Erwin says. He sighs. “Why were you cleaning the fireplace?”

            “It was dirty.”

            “You said your back still hurts. Why clean it now?”

            “Erwin.” Levi looks at him with a growing irritation. You know why, it almost says. But Erwin doesn’t, not really.

            “Why do you clean?”

            “Stop,” Levi says. He gets up from the bed and walks around. He’s growing agitated again and Erwin’s not willing to push him this time, not when he just managed to get him calmed down. Levi picks up a sponge and dunks it in the bucket of water again. He lies back down on his back in the fireplace like he had been when Erwin first got there.

            “It can’t wait?” Erwin says.

            “I didn’t finish,” Levi says.

            Erwin sits in the chair until Levi finishes. His scrubbing isn’t as frantic or as harsh this time. He finishes cleaning and then quietly puts his room back in order. He dumps the dirty bucket of water out and pushes his tub back into place. He puts away his cleaning supplies and then sets the dirty rags into a bag to be cleaned tomorrow. He runs his fingers over the splintered wood in the beam but there’s nothing he can do about that today. He draws another bucket of water and strips out of his clothes without a word. He washes, and then puts on clean clothes. Erwin says nothing the entire time.

            Levi finally looks back at him again, sitting back down on the bed.

            “I’m going to sleep now,” Levi says.

            “Don’t lie to me, Levi,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s expression doesn’t change. He doesn’t try to deny it.

            “Are you going to hurt yourself if I leave?” Erwin says, quieter, softer.

            “Probably,” Levi says. He keeps the hard expression on his face for only a second longer and then finally he sighs and lies back against the pillows on his bed. He stares at the ceiling.

            “God, Erwin, I’m so fucked up,” Levi says.

            It catches Erwin off guard. He’s not sure what to say to that. “Maybe you should talk to Hange again,” he says.

            “I can’t take any more of her stupid flower,” Levi says. “If there was something else she could do for my fucked up head she would have already told me about it. God knows she never shuts up about anything.”

            Some tension runs out of Erwin’s shoulders as Levi starts to sound more like himself.

            “You said you’d probably hurt yourself if I left,” he says, and wonders if he’s pushing too much, if he should be letting it all drop for tonight. “Explain the feeling to me.”

            Levi looks at him without moving his head, peering at him from the side of his eyes. “It itches,” he says.

            “Itches?”

            “Yes.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “It feels like my skin is crawling, like there’s pressure, like my skin’s too tight.”

            Erwin frowns. “Maybe some lotion?”

            Levi lets out an irritated sigh. “It’s not actually a physical sensation, Erwin, it just feels like one. Some damn lotion is not going to do a fucking thing.”

            “Hm,” Erwin says.

            Levi lets out another noise of irritation. “Stop trying to understand it,” he says. “It’s obviously fucking irrational, just let it alone.”

            “Do you think you’ll sleep at all tonight?” Erwin asks.

            “Probably not.”

            Erwin briefly considers giving Levi a watch, getting Hange and maybe Mike or Eld or Moblit to take turns with him staying up with Levi for the night. Erwin can’t stay up all night with him himself – he can’t function off two hours of sleep the way Levi can.

            “Can I sleep here tonight?”

            “No.”

            “Would you sleep in my room?”

            “I told you I’m not sleeping.”

            “Would you stay up and read or write or whatever you do when you can’t sleep in my room?”

            “I could hurt myself while you’re asleep.”

            “As you’ve said before, if you really want to hurt yourself there’s nothing I can do to stop you.”

            Levi looks at him for a moment. “No,” he says. Erwin opens his mouth to argue but Levi continues. “Your room isn’t clean. It would make it worse.”

            Erwin shuts his mouth and makes a mental note to clean his room again, or maybe he’ll let Levi clean it himself – when he’s feeling calmer, when Erwin trusts it won’t send him into one of his frantic moods.

            Erwin thinks about how he could force Levi to medical for a suicide watch. He thinks about how badly that would go over, wonders if Levi would disobey a direct order for him to go. (Erwin doesn’t actually think Levi is going to kill himself, but it would be similar – a watch to make sure he won’t hurt himself instead.)

            “I really don’t want to leave you alone, Levi,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks at him for a long moment, and then stands up again. “I’m going to make some tea,” he says. “Go take a shower and change. You can read to me for an hour.”

            Erwin goes and showers and changes. When he comes back Levi is already sitting in bed with a cup of tea in his hand. There’s another cup and a book on the table for him. Erwin finds a bookmark already in it and sits down.

            He reads for what is probably around an hour. He grows tired, and when his voice starts to slow Levi makes an impatient noise.

            “Tch,” he says. “Give me that.”

            He takes the book from Erwin. Erwin looks up at him.

            “Go to bed,” Levi says, taking the book back to his own bed with him. He looks up at Erwin again. “I’ll be fine. Go to bed.”

            Erwin searches Levi’s face, but while it’s still blank, some of the tension has gone. Erwin nods. He gets up and goes back to his own room.

 

 

 

            The next day Levi is waiting for him outside his room. He nearly makes Erwin jump when Erwin turns around the corner.

            “You said we’d go see a doctor,” Levi says. “Let’s just get it over with.”

            They go to medical. The head doctor sees Levi. Levi is tense the whole time, and it’s the first time Erwin realizes that Levi seems to really dislike being there. It’s not an uncommon dislike, and it doesn’t surprise him, not with how adverse to touching Levi is anyway.

            The doctor tells Levi some stretches he should do, but besides some tension, there’s no sign of anything wrong with his back. Levi says it doesn’t hurt at all this morning.

            (Eld catches Levi afterwards. He sits next to him at breakfast and nearly all of the soldiers are staring or peering over at Levi. Levi feels his eye twitch.

            “There’s a rumor that the Commander was in your room last night,” Eld says, and Levi feels a bolt of anxiety that he can’t quite pinpoint the cause of, but Eld continues. “They’re saying that he was there to convince you not to murder the recruit who tried to tag you with the ball. Jury’s out on whether you’re still going to commit the murder though. They’ve pretty much agreed that the Commander would look the other way if you did though.”

            Levi huffs. He doesn’t see the recruit at all for the next several days. Every time he sees him after that the recruit hides from him. Levi always rolls his eyes.)

            The next time the pain comes is over a month later, and this time it’s unclear what Levi did to aggravate it. It starts slower, like they used to. Erwin catches Levi as it’s hitting and follows him back to his room. He stays with him for all of it and then stays afterwards too, even when Levi tries to get him to leave. It’s not the last time it happens. He gets the attacks infrequently, but it continues, sometimes randomly, sometimes when he strains it fighting, sometimes when the weather changes suddenly, or there’s a storm. Erwin always tries to stay with him. Sometimes Hange does instead. Erwin pulls aside Eld one day and tells him to watch Levi after them, if it ever happens when their squad is away.

            “The Captain sometimes has difficulty managing the stress,” Erwin says to him.

            Eld looks at him and nods. “Yes, Commander.”

            “I would appreciate if you would check on him, even after it passes, especially right after it passes.”

            Erwin looks for confusion or uncertainty in Eld’s eyes but there isn’t even realization there – it looks more like Erwin’s just confirmed something that Eld already knows.

            “I will,” he says. He looks at Erwin another moment. “I understand, sir.”

            Erwin nods at him.

Chapter 6: Help

Summary:

It's taken me a while to figure out this part and I feel like I could probably keep tinkering with it for another month or so but I would like to move on and also not have a two month break between posting, so here you go.

Honestly, for a summary, just imagine Erwin and Hange taking turns dragging Levi kicking and screaming. Maybe give Levi a bottle of wine and a feather duster too. I think it's a pretty good image to encapsulate their conversations.

Notes:

WARNING

Trigger warning for rape non-con. That being said, there is no rape or non-con in this chapter, at all. There is not even anything sexual at all. Warning is solely for a couple of lines asking if a rape happened (it did not) and because of a sort of dub-con medical treatment, described in such a way that I think if you are very sensitive to the topic, it might possibly be triggering (the treatment is not sexual in any way and does not involve genitals at all either - it's purely how the treatment plays out).

(I'm putting this individual trigger warning here because i'm not tagging it, since there is no non-con actually occurring - please do read the tags though for other trigger warnings - I have not written them all out in the notes like this.)

            Erwin is thirty years old and Levi has just turned twenty-two, two years after the fall of wall Maria, when Levi walks into Erwin’s office, no introduction.

            “I’m going to hurt myself,” Levi says, and it catches Erwin completely off guard. They’re in his office in the evening. Erwin looks up sharply. Levi’s face is almost expressionless, but Erwin can see just the slightest of muscle contractions around his eyes, even as he leans relaxed against the doorframe. “And considering we’re supposed to leave in two days on what is probably the most important endeavor of the year, I really can’t do that.”

            It’s the first time that Levi has ever come to him first, before hurting himself. Erwin just looks at him for a moment and Levi’s eyebrows raise.

            “This would be the point where you start your usual line of questioning,” Levi says.

            “Sorry,” Erwin says. “I’m just – I’m glad you came to me.”

            Levi huffs. “Don’t feel so special,” he says. “Hange is out on the wall by Trost.”

            Erwin knows he’s deflecting and he just hums. Levi has always been more open with him than with Hange, if only slightly. “Alright,” Erwin says, putting down the pen he held. “What happened then?”

            Levi falls into a seat opposite Erwin’s desk. “I want to break my finger,” he says.

            Erwin blinks. “What?”

            Levi holds up his left hand in front of him, turns it as if he’s inspecting it, eyes focused on his fingers. “Probably my index finger. Maybe I could just dislocate my thumb.”

            “I’m sorry, you want to break a finger?” Erwin says. He notices then that Levi’s hand, his left one, that he’s holding up, is pink and the knuckles are bloody.

            “Keep up old man,” Levi says.

            “Why do you want to break a finger?” Erwin says.

            “A recruit vomited on me,” Levi says, and Erwin can hear the disgust in his voice, sees the way his mouth twists. “Specifically, he got vomit on my hand and my shoes.”

            Erwin looks down. He is not wearing his normal boots, he realizes. “And why does this make you want to break a finger?” Erwin says. “I’m not – have you done that before?”

            “Once,” Levi says. “I guess that wasn’t completely on purpose.”

            Erwin has a lot of questions. He tries to sift out the most important ones.

            “Alright, can you explain why you want to break a finger? I get the cleaning, that you feel dirty and so you wash your skin to the point of injury, and you said that cutting yourself makes you stop thinking – is it like that?”

            “Yes,” Levi says.

            “Why breaking a finger?” Erwin says. “Why that and not cutting?”

            And Erwin certainly doesn’t want Levi cutting himself either, but when Erwin had seen the wounds they had all been shallow, manageable, except for when he’d cut in a frenzy and they’d needed stitches. A broken finger would take a lot more time to heal, would inhibit his ability to fight, was overall just a much worse injury than the small, careful lines.

            “No idea,” Levi says. “I can’t really cut my hand, I guess. I really want to break all of them, but I think once I do one I’d feel okay enough to stop.”

            Erwin is silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t decide if he’s better off trying to reinforce that no, Levi really can’t break one of his fingers right now, or if he should be asking more because fuck this feels a hell of a lot more deliberate than the frantic scrubbing and thin cuts.

            While Erwin is trying to collect his thoughts and figure out what the hell to say, Levi pauses and then looks away. “I already cut up both my arms, it’s not helping.” Erwin pauses, feels a sinking in his stomach – Levi did not actually come to him before he’d hurt himself then. Levi continues before Erwin can process past that. “And I really don’t want to burn it again.” Levi still doesn’t look up. “Which doesn’t really leave me a ton of options. And I got the idea of breaking a finger, and now it’s all I can think about.”

            Levi finally looks up at him, and his expression is so disconnected for what he’s just said.

            “You want to feel clean,” Erwin says. “Breaking a finger won’t make you clean.”

            “Nothing will make me feel clean, this will it least stop me feeling at all,” he snaps.

            It clicks then. Erwin looks at him and Levi huffs and looks away, hands clenching, with the slightest tremor. It’s not about getting clean, Erwin thinks. It’s about shutting off whatever switch in Levi’s brain that makes him feel that he’s not clean.

            And if pain makes that happen, then that’s what Levi will do, Erwin realizes. And if cuts are not enough pain, then yes, he can understand why Levi might move to something worse.

            “You can’t break your finger,” Erwin says.

            “No shit,” Levi snaps. He’s got some kind of wild look in his eyes. He’d walked in there with a kind of false bravado, pretending nonchalance, and it’s slipping fast.

            “What would help that’s not hurting yourself?”

            “Don’t you think if I knew something, I’d already be doing it,” Levi says. He’s started tapping his foot.

            “You could go for a run,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s eye twitches. “If I go for a run I will get dirty again.”

            “What about reading?”

            “Can’t concentrate.”

            “I could read to you?”

            “Not better.”

            “We could just talk.”

            “We are talking,” Levi says. He drums his fingers against the armrest of the chair.

            “About something besides how you want to break your finger,” Erwin says.

            “What, would you like to discuss how many soldiers died on the last expedition?” Levi says. “Or how shit the new recruits are? How by two night’s from now some of them will be dead?”

            “Want to go to a bar?” Erwin says.

            “Yes.”

 

 

            They go out to a bar and it doesn’t matter that they change out of uniform, everyone is staring at them. Commander Erwin and Captain Levi, probably the two most formidable people outside Wall Sina. It doesn’t help that as soon as they get there Levi is glaring at anyone who so much as breathes and then shoots back two shots of whiskey without blinking.

            Erwin gets a beer. He watches Levi order three more shots.

            “Don’t you think that might be a bit much?” Erwin says. He’s wondering if alcohol poisoning is much better than a broken finger.

            “One of them is for you,” Levi says.

            “I don’t really like whiskey.”

            “Tough shit,” Levi says. “You’re not doing this, the whole taking me out and sitting there watching to make sure I don’t kill myself – if I’m getting shitfaced then you’re at least getting drunk.”

            “Alright,” Erwin says. “But next time order me vodka.”

 

 

            They are not there an hour when Levi is drunk. Erwin has only been around Levi a couple of times when he’s drunk, and it’s always mildly terrifying. Levi isn’t a happy drunk or an angry drunk or a sad drunk. The best way Erwin can describe it is to say that Levi becomes a more intense version of himself.

            “You don’t know anything about me, do you?” Levi says crookedly. He’s forced a shot of vodka into Erwin as well, which puts him on his fourth drink, so Erwin is not exactly sober either, though Levi is worse.

            “I know you can’t handle your alcohol,” Erwin says, smiling.

            Levi scowls at him. “Just because I’m not a fucking mountain doesn’t mean I’m a lightweight.”

            Erwin takes another sip of his beer, eyes light over the rim.

            “Did you know my mother was a whore,” Levi says, “and that Kenny the Ripper is my father?”

            Erwin’s eyes widen and Levi cackles. “What?” he says. “Kenny the Ripper?”

            “No, not really,” Levi says. He looks away and almost spills his drink all over himself. Levi wouldn’t like that, Erwin thinks dimly. “Not my father – maybe my father. What the hell do I know? Nothing.”

            Erwin has trouble following this train of thought. Levi moves forward before he can say anything.

            “Probably fuckin’ dead now too. Everyone’s fuckin’ dead now.” Levi takes a long drink.

            Erwin changes his mind, Levi is a talkative drunk.

            “Oi,” Levi says, pointing a finger in the air, looking at a waitress. “Can we get another round here?”

            “Right away, Captain,” someone says.

            “Tch, don’t call me Captain,” Levi says. “Am I wearing a fucking uniform? My name is Levi.”

            “Right, of course, Levi, sir.”

            Levi looks back at him and Erwin frowns. “You’re not finished with this one,” Erwin says, looking at his still quarter full cup.

            “No but you are,” Levi says, nodding at his almost empty glass. Levi then chugs the remainder of his beer. “You know, I wanted to open a tea shop,” Levi says, “I love tea. We didn’t have any of it down underground. Best thing about being up here. Tea.”

            “I was inclined to think it would be the sunlight,” Erwin says.

            “I’d take the tea,” Levi says.

 

 

 

            Erwin helps Levi back to the base and then deposits him in his bed. Levi gets up and stumbles to change anyway, before falling back into it. Erwin hesitates before leaving. He’s afraid that Levi will wake up and hurt himself anyway, but he’s very thoroughly passed out at the moment. Erwin hesitates, but then he leaves, shutting the door quietly.

            He wakes up early the next morning with a headache and gets up anyway. He goes to Levi’s room.

            “Fuck off,” Levi says when he walks in. He’s still in bed, a pillow over his head.

            “I brought some water,” Erwin says, placing the glass next to his bed. “And some tea.” He puts that down as well. “I take it you’re not feeling well.”

            “Erwin, if my head wasn’t spinning I would punch that look off your face,” Levi says, without ever looking up to actually see the look on Erwin’s face.

            “Do you need anything?” Erwin says. He pauses. “Do you feel like you might be sick?”

            “I never vomit,” Levi says.

            “And how exactly do you manage that?”

            “Pure force of will.”

            Erwin laughs, and then leaves. He checks on Levi later, brings him a roll of bread. He’s taken a bath by then, his hair wet, but there doesn’t appear to be any new scrapes on his hands, and his fingers certainly aren’t broken. He’s lying down with his eyes closed when Erwin gets there and Erwin is quickly and rudely dismissed.

            He comes down for dinner and by then the rumor that the Commander and the Captain went and got shitfaced the night before has fully circulated. No one dares say anything to either of them, except for Hange. Erwin thinks that Levi might actually kill her by the end of the meal.

 

 

 

            Erwin comes to his room afterwards. Levi hasn’t even shut it this time. He knows Erwin is going to follow him back.

            “Are you feeling better?” Erwin asks once he closes the door. Levi sits on his bed, back against the wall.

            “Better as in not horribly hung over or better as in diminished desire to mutilate my body?”

            Erwin winces. “The second one,” he says. “Although I hope your head is feeling better too.”

            “All of my bones are still intact,” Levi says. His expression is blank as always.

            “Are you feeling better though?” Erwin says.

            Levi says nothing. He looks back at Erwin for a long moment. “Yes,” he says.

            It was such a long pause and Erwin can’t tell if Levi’s lying or if he was just thinking. “Really?” Erwin says. He frowns.

            “Yes, Eyebrows,” Levi says, drawn out.

            Erwin keeps looking at him. Levi looks back.

            Levi breaks eye contact first and lets out a long sigh. “I still feel like shit but it’s better.”

            “We need to figure out something for you to do,” Erwin says. “We can’t go get drunk every time you get anxious. We need to figure out something that will help you when this happens.”

            “I have things I do when this happens,” Levi says. “I wash my hands too much and cut my arms.”

            “Something for you to do so that you don’t have to hurt yourself,” Erwin says.

            “Erwin, it’s not that big of a deal.”

            Erwin narrows his eyes but Levi’s expression is flat and his tone is halfway between serious and casual – he believes that, Erwin realizes.

            “Levi, this is not good for you. Do you really think that this is a good strategy?”

            Levi shrugs. “I heal. None of the injuries affect my ability to fight.”

            Erwin’s eyebrows shoot up. “I'm sorry, have you forgotten that we went out and got drunk because you wanted to break your finger?”

            “This is the one exception, and I didn’t do it, so –”

            “What about when you burned your entire right hand – Levi, you still have scars from that.”

            Levi’s jaw sets. “That was three years ago,” he says.

            “I stitched you up in here, Levi. Less than a year ago.”

            “It’s not usually bad enough to affect my ability to fight,” Levi says.

            “Levi, you are more than just a weapon, has it occurred to you that your fighting ability is not the primary reason I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Erwin says.

            “Erwin, hurting myself does not bother me nearly as much as it bothers you,” Levi says.

            “I don’t believe that,” Erwin says.

 

 

 

            “No,” Levi says flatly, expressionless.

            “You’re going to see a doctor for your back anyway,” Erwin says. “You’ll already be at the hospital, and it’ll only take an hour at most.”

            “No,” Levi says again, the same emotionless tone.

            “Come on, it’ll be fun,” Hange says, throwing up her hands.

            “Only you would think seeing a head case doctor would be fun,” Levi says.

            “Please, Levi, at worst it’s an hour wasted,” Erwin says.

            “I may be fucked up, Erwin, but I am not insane,” Levi says, “I am not seeing a doctor for the mentally insane.”

            “He doesn’t work at the insane asylum anymore,” Hange says, “and his specialty was never the delusional ones – he works with people like you, Levi.”

            “How nice,” he says. “I am still not going.”

            “Why?” Erwin says. He narrows his eyes at him and Levi lets out a sinking breath. Erwin’s not going to give this up, he realizes. He’s going to end up seeing the whack job doctor. “Really,” Erwin says, “why don’t you want to go?”

            Because I’m not talking to some doctor about all the fucked up things in my brain, Levi thinks. “I’m not mentally unstable, Erwin,” Levi says.

            “Mm, you’re not the picture of stability either, Levi,” Hange says.

            “Says the woman who high-fived a titan,” Levi says.

            “You don’t have to be mentally unstable to see a doctor,” Erwin says. He looks at Hange. “He’s the guy who told you about the flowers, right?”

            “Yes,” Hange says. “He taught at the university.”

            Hange was six years older than Levi even though Hange started in the Corps only two years before him – the vast majority of cadets joined at twelve or thirteen years old, to graduate at fifteen or sixteen, but there was no age limit. Hange had originally gone to school for engineering, and then switched to medical school halfway through her degree, and then she’d quit that too to join the Survey Corps.

            Levi doesn’t agree to see the doctor. Erwin shuts up about it but Levi knows him better than that – he’s positive Erwin and Hange have already set up the appointment and are just going to drag him there when they actually go.

            It’s on a visit inside wall Sina to meet with the nobles who want (demand) an update on their progress. They have the best hospitals, and it’s where Hange’s friend works, as well as a doctor who specializes in back injuries. 

            “I’m not going in with both of you,” Levi says when he goes to leave to see the doctor for his back and both Erwin and Hange get up to follow him.

            “It’s perfectly normal to bring someone with you to medical appointments,” Erwin says, frowning.

            “One person, not two,” Levi says. “I don’t need an entourage.” He looks over at Hange. “Shitty Glasses, you can come.”

            “Ha! I’m Levi’s new favorite,” Hange says, and jumps forward closer to Levi and the door.

            Erwin looks puzzled. “Calm down,” Levi says to Hange. “I just need someone to interpret the medical bullshit.”

            “Are you sure?” Erwin says. “I can come too. I’m sure they won’t care.”

            “I’m sure,” Levi says.

            He’s already dreading the appointment. He really does not want another doctor touching his back – the thought already has his skin crawling. The attacks of pain have been continuing though and they’re not getting less frequent anymore. It’s still sporadic – once or twice a month usually – but they suck. A lot. So far he’s been lucky and it’s never happened while outside wall Maria but there’s no guarantee that will remain the case.

            He has to see the stupid doctor. He knows that, but he really does not want to go, and it’s just going to be worse having both Hange and Erwin standing there watching while it happens. He wants Hange to go because she’ll know all the right questions to ask and can make suggestions and see what the doctor says.

            “Alright,” Erwin says, sounding not at all alright with the decision. He doesn’t look hurt that Levi doesn’t want him to go, but he looks a little unsettled.

            Can’t drag me to the fucking head case doctor now, Levi thinks. He’s surprised they haven’t brought it up again yet. Maybe they really did not make the appointment.

            Hange talks the whole way there and Levi is actually somewhat grateful for it. It’s a distraction. They get there and Hange immediately throws her arms out and hugs the doctor. She steps back a moment later and introduces him.

            The room is small and private, the door shut. There’s a couple of chairs and a long table, then a couple of shelves. Levi’s not paying close enough attention to Hange’s words because it takes him until they sit down to realize that this is not the doctor for his back.

            “Hange,” he says, near growling.

            “Erwin’s idea,” she says, “blame him.”

            “I told you no,” he says. He lets out a long breath and sits back in the chair. Fine. Fucking fine, he was there, that didn’t mean he had to talk to him.

            “Hange told me you have some trouble with things needing to be clean,” he says, ignoring the fact that Levi quite clearly does not want to be there.

            Levi only grunts in response. He shoots Hange a look. She’s told the guy everything then, he assumes. Fuck you, he thinks in Hange’s general direction.

            “And that the herb I prescribed has been helping,” he says. “And that she and your friend are worried because you self-harm when you become overwhelmed.”

            Overwhelmed. He doesn’t know why the phrasing bothers him so much. He gives no response.

            “The cleaning is actually a relatively common disorder,” he says. “It’s part of a class of illnesses where obsession over the thing or activity is joined with uncontrolled and strong compulsions.”

            Levi is surprised to hear that this was apparently not just an anomaly confined to himself.

            “It sounds like the self-harm, when not a direct result of cleaning too harshly, is a somewhat separate thing though. I’ve only seen one other patient who had a similar tendency, but it sounds like it’s a direct response to feeling overwhelmed or out of control, so I’d like to talk to you a little about possible alternative coping strategies.”

            Levi looks at him then. He had been staring at the wall. He fixes the man with a cold look but he seems unbothered.

            “Obsessive compulsive behavior falls under anxiety disorders in general. We don’t have time to really tackle your cleaning obsession today, but there are things you can do when you start feeling anxious.”

            He starts explaining them. After about thirty seconds Levi resumes looking at the wall and zones out. He glances over at Hange at one point and she’s taking fucking notes. He decides this will be over faster if he just lets the guy talk.

            Shit about breathing slow, something about leaving the situation, talking to someone about it all, anyone, some other stuff he doesn’t pay attention to.

            He finishes and leaves, gives Levi a warm smile and then shakes Hange’s hand. As soon as the door clicks shut Levi turns to glare at Hange.

            “I’m gonna fucking kill you both,” he says.

            “I think that was very helpful,” Hange says, smiling.

            Levi rolls his eyes and looks away again. A couple minutes later a different doctor comes in and introduces herself.

            Her hands are cold against his back and he resists the urge to shudder. He lies down on his stomach on the table first, and presses at different spots on his back, moving slowly, asking if he feels any pain, even if it’s slight. He tenses up the longer it goes on until she has to ask him to relax his muscles.

            He feels zero pain until she presses firmly at a spot on his lower back, left side. He feels a sharp jolt of pain and inhales loudly.

            She pauses. “Did that hurt?”

            “Yes,” he says.

            “I’m going to feel around that area some more.”

            “Of course you are,” he says, mumbled, more to himself.

            She is not gentle. She’s pressing hard at his back and he tenses up.

            “Stop,” he says. Her hands pause, and then leave his skin. “You’re gonna set it off,” he says.

            “You think you’ll have another one of these attacks of pain?” she says.

            “Hitting my back on something has triggered it before.”

            “Hm,” she says. “Levi, I’m going to keep looking at the area, and if it triggers an attack then I’ll see if there’s any change and if I can help alleviate the pain with only massage therapy. If I can’t, then I’ll give you a painkiller. I don’t want to give it to you now because it will affect how much the muscle tightens up, and I need you to be able to tell me if the massage therapy works.”

            “You’re going to try to trigger one,” Levi says, and he feels sick suddenly. He really doesn’t want to have a bout of pain in a hospital where he will then be stuck for however long it takes to end. He really doesn’t want to be in pain either, and he hadn’t expected that this would happen, and now he knows it is, and the sudden dread has his stomach twisting.

            He closes his eyes for a second. He has to do this. He knows he does but it doesn’t make it easier.

            “Yes, honey,” she says with an understanding, comforting tone, and it makes Levi almost as furious as being called honey does.

            “Just fucking do it then,” he says.

            “You have the painkiller in here?” Hange says.

            “Yes, I brought a vial and a needle.”

            And it’s gonna be a fucking needle too. But then, that meant they’d give him something good, right?

            God, he really wants to be anywhere but there.

            Hange takes his hand, and he doesn’t look up, just squeezes it. He can’t relax knowing that the pain is coming. He’s never had the anticipation that this situation is creating and he’s realizing very quickly that he hates it.

            Normally, it either came out of nowhere or it built steadily over time. Never did he know that he was about to get thrown into it beforehand.

            Levi feels her press down against his back again and he breathes in sharply at the pain. It takes her only about a minute and then it hits and Levi screams.

            “Fuck!” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and crushing Hange’s hand.

            It’s just as awful as always, but the pain is familiar now. He grits his teeth and squeezes Hange’s hand. The doctor keeps touching his back though, and it hurts. He can’t help the gasps whenever she presses down.

            “Okay,” she says after maybe a minute, “your seizing up a little bit, I’m going to try to alleviate some of the pain now.”

            She keeps pressing at his back and it actually gets worse. His vision blacks out in the corners and he flinches from her. The movement also makes it worse and he screams again. It’s agonizing and he feels Hange’s other hand in his hair and he can’t stop screaming. He tries to curl away.

            “Stop, stop,” he says. He can’t get up, can’t think, moving hurts, he needs it to stop, he needs her to stop and she doesn’t and his whole body starts shaking.

            Hange is talking. He can’t hear her. He doesn’t hear anything. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, stop, fucking stop, please, he’s thinking or talking he’s not sure which. He can’t see anything, but it doesn’t stop, he still feels everything.

            The pain lessens then. It takes a few moments for him to realize she’s not touching him anymore, not pressing at his back anymore. His vision clears a little and Hange starts to roll him onto his back and Levi’s breath stutters in his throat. “No,” he says. The movement hurts, makes it worse.

            But fighting the movement is worse than actually moving so he lets her roll him.

            “… it’s okay, she’s gonna give you the painkiller now, it’s alright, Levi, you’re okay,” Hange says. It filters in. He feels hands on his arm and doesn’t look. A sharp prick. It stings for several moments.

            It takes about twenty seconds and then the pain drops significantly. Levi takes long gasping breaths. The physical relief is incredible but he’s still shaking all over. It takes about a minute, and then the pain goes down even more. It still hurts, but it’s nowhere near as bad.

            “How is that?” the doctor says once he’s breathing almost normally.

            “I can’t think,” Levi says. He feels sick. He tries to sit up and then lets out a gasp and drops back down. He’s so dizzy. His vision is blurring.

            “That’s just the painkiller, honey, it makes things a little fuzzy, it’s alright, it’s normal,” she says.

            He can’t think, he can’t think. He moves his arm and feels slow, uncoordinated, and that terrifies him. He starts breathing faster again. He squeezes Hange’s hand and closes his eyes. He wants to leave so badly suddenly.

            “Hange,” he says, and it’s desperate, bordering on panicked, and he doesn’t care and he doesn’t know what to do, can’t think, can’t think. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. His back hurts but it’s dull and he wants to leave now.

            “I’m right here, Levi, it’s okay,” Hange says.

            “I can’t move,” he says. It hurts to move and his body feels not his own – not his own at all.

            “It’s alright, you can stay right here until you feel better,” she says.

            “I want to leave,” he says. “Hange, I want to leave.”

            He’s scared. He can’t think. It hurts. Talking feels hard and he doesn’t sound like himself – he doesn’t recognize his own voice.

            “We’ll leave as soon as you feel better,” Hange says. She’s playing with his hair. He never lets her do that except for when he’s in pain. He finds it more comforting now then he thinks he ever has and doesn’t know why.

            “I want to leave now,” he says.

            “I know, Levi,” she says.

            Her voice is gentle and it makes him cry. He’s been crying. He feels the tears on his skin and it feels wet and wrong and he tries to wipe at his face with his free hand and it feels like his limbs have gone numb. He's surprised by the crying, doesn't understand why it's happening.

            “Levi, can you tell me how your back feels now?” the doctor says.   

            “Hurts,” he says. He flinches when she makes a move towards him – a delayed reaction.

            “It’s alright, I’m not gonna touch anymore, I promise,” she says. “I’m gonna give you some more pain killer.”

            “I don’t think he’s reacting well to it,” Hange says quickly. Levi stares at the ceiling. He can’t follow the conversation as Hange and the doctor talk. He feels horribly unbalanced and he wants the dizziness to stop and he wants to be able to think and move clearly.

            “Levi, do you want more painkiller?” the doctor says at one point. Levi turns towards her.

            “I want to leave,” he says.

            “I know honey, but you can’t just now. I want to know if you’d like me to give you more of the painkiller. If I give it to you it’ll make your back hurt less, but it might make it harder to think as well.”

            “No,” he says.

            “You don’t want it?”

            “No.”

            The doctor says something but it’s to Hange and Levi can’t concentrate. He hates his head. He hates how it feels. He’s glad the doctor is gone though when she leaves.

            Hange pets his hair and talks quietly to him for the next hour. He’s still scared. He can’t think straight and he can’t move and he tells Hange that he wants to leave another dozen times at least.

            The painkiller starts wearing off then. His back hurts more in proportion to his mind getting clearer. He still doesn’t calm down. The doctor comes back in and asks if he wants it again and he can’t make up his mind.

            “Less,” he says finally.

            “Less than last time?” Hange says.

            He nods.

            He feels the needle prick and the stinging and then the pain softens. It’s worse than before but he doesn’t feel as out of it.

            As soon as the pain starts to fade and the attack starts to end, they leave. As soon as he can manage walking they’re out of the hospital. They take a carriage back.

            He’s silent on the way back. He doesn’t even ask what the doctor actually said, if she learned anything about what was wrong with his back while she was torturing him. He feels shaky and he’s surprised at how upset he still is, how he can’t calm down still, how much he wants to cut himself – it’s the first thing he’s going to do when they get back.

            Except when they get back, Erwin is waiting. He jumps up when they walk in and he opens his mouth and then he sees Levi and his whole expression changes in an instant. His eyes flick to Hange. Levi walks right by him and goes down the hall, to the room he is staying in.

            Hange follows him. Erwin’s somewhere behind her. Levi opens the door and closes it again before Hange can get there. He locks the door before she can get there too.

            He pulls out the knife he keeps in his boot and pulls off his jacket and shirt. He’s cutting himself before Hange can even finish knocking on the door.         

            “Levi, please open the door,” she says. “Please let one of us in. Or both of us. But at least one, please. I know you don’t feel well. Please open the door so we can help.”

            Levi cuts himself until Shitty Glasses finishes picking the lock, and he doesn’t stop until she’s standing right in front of him, and he just keeps going.

            Line after line after line, sharp, regular, controlled. They’re small. They sting. His hand is steady now. Line after line after line.

            He doesn’t stop until Hange’s fingers curl gently around both of his wrists, and she’s not tugging or trying to hold him still but he stops anyway, staring now at her hands over his skin.

            “It’s okay,” she says. Levi feels numb. He hadn’t even really heard her come in. He feels completely disconnected. “It’s okay now. It’s over. It’s all done.”

            And then he starts shaking, and then he can’t stop shaking. He’s still holding the knife.

            “It’s over,” she says again.

            She helps him bandage his arms. Numb, he feels numb. He thought all of the painkiller had worn off but it must not have because his mind is doing something strange – it’s slow and doesn’t want to work and he doesn’t feel anxious but he’s still shaking.

            When Hange leads him over to his bed, he sits down on it. When Hange gets in next to him he doesn’t try to stop her. He sinks down a little in the bed and finds Hange’s fingers in his hair again. He stares at the wall in front of him.

            “Erwin’s going to make you some tea,” she says.

            Erwin comes back with tea and then sits on a chair that’s near a desk in the room. Levi feels the warmth of the tea through the cup and sips it slowly.

            They wait for him to say something, and he doesn’t say anything. Hange seems content to sit in bed with him and play with his hair for however long he wants to stay there but Erwin fidgets and the concerned, anxious look on his face only heightens. He doesn’t say anything though, doesn’t ask any questions.

            Levi stares at the wall in front of him and he is numb and he doesn’t think at all. He feels terrible and doesn’t know why. He doesn’t try to figure it out. He falls asleep.

 

 

 

            Hange and Erwin slip out after Levi falls asleep and Hange knows that one of them needs to go back in there because there’s no way in hell she’s letting Levi wake up alone but right now Erwin looks like he’s about to die of worry.

            “I take it the meeting with your friend didn’t go well,” he says. They walk into Erwin’s room and shut the door.

            “It was the meeting with his doctor for the back pain,” she says. Hange takes a deep breath and explains what happened.

            Erwin is quiet. It’s painful to hear, and he wishes he’d fought more to go with Levi as well, and yet he doesn’t know what he would have done.

            “Did she at least have any suggestions, any treatment plan?” Erwin says. There has to be something good out of this.

            “Not very much,” she says. “She recommended hot water skins against his back and icing it – both after any kind of strenuous exercise to try to prevent it from happening and as a remedy for the pain when it hits. She said a muscle relaxer injection might help for during an attack. I don’t know if that would scare Levi like the painkiller did.”

            “And of course, we could actually give him painkillers,” Erwin says. He sighs.

            “The muscle relaxers are expensive too,” Hange says. “He could buy his own supply of painkillers if he wants to.”

            “He shouldn’t have to,” Erwin says, scrubbing at his face.

            There’s a long pause and when Erwin looks up, Hange has a pained expression on her face.

            “I think I messed up, Erwin,” Hange says. “I think I should have made the doctor stop as soon as he started asking her to.”

            “She was doing her job though?” Erwin says. “I mean it was medically necessary to continue?”

            “It was necessary to try to find a treatment plan, yes,” Hange says. “But I’m not sure it was worth it.”

            “You couldn’t have known she wouldn’t find anything particularly useful,” Erwin says.

            “He was asking her to stop, trying to get her to stop, and she didn’t,” Hange says. “She was putting him in an excruciating amount of pain and when he couldn’t handle it she kept going anyway, and it doesn’t really matter that it was necessary for treatment, his brain isn’t going to interpret it that way, his brain is going to tell him that someone is hurting him and when he desperately tried to get them to stop, it kept going anyway.”

            “His problems center on trying to control his surroundings and himself,” Erwin follows, feeling his stomach sink.

            “And this was a complete forfeit of bodily autonomy,” she says. “And then it was immediately followed by a period where he didn’t have full control of himself because he was drugged.”

            “He went into shock,” Erwin realizes. The blank staring and uncontrollable shaking after Hange stopped him from cutting was shock.

            There’s tears gathering in Hange’s eyes when Erwin meets them again. “I think I fucked up, Erwin,” she says.

 

 

 

            When Levi wakes up he doesn’t remember where he is at first. The bed is not his bed, the room not his room. Panic claws up his spine before he can realize that he’s in a military base in Sina, staying in guest rooms.

            “Hey,” Erwin says. Levi turns to see him sitting in a chair, smiling and looking tired. “How are you feeling?”

            Levi feels like shit. He feels like utter shit. He looks down at his arms and sees the bandages. The whole thing after they got back from the hospital feels like a bad dream, like it wasn’t really him that had gone through it.

            He’s assaulted all at once with the memories of actually being at the hospital. Cold hands on his skin, searing pain, stop, please stop, dizzy haze, crying and unable to stop himself, too drugged to care enough to even try, desperately wanting to get out of there, away from there.

            He feels cold. He’s suddenly very cold.

            “Levi?” Erwin says.

            “Tea,” Levi says.

            “Tea? You want some tea?” Erwin says.

            “Yes.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says. “I’m going to grab someone to go get it, don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

            He doesn’t trust me to be alone, Levi thinks. Shitty paranoid old man. Levi knows that Erwin probably thinks he’s asking for tea just to get rid of him, so Levi can do something stupid.

            But really Levi is just cold.

            Erwin is back not a full minute later. “Moblit’s getting some,” he says.

            “What are you afraid of?” Levi says.

            He catches Erwin off guard, and it shows. “What do you mean?” Erwin says.

            When Levi had said the words, he’d meant what was Erwin afraid that Levi would do if Erwin left the room, but then Levi thinks about being unable to move and unable to think, unable to leave, and that has him thinking about the smell of death and shit and piss all rolled into one and the spit of ill bodies and Isabel and Furlan’s blood on the grass and he wants to know what Erwin is afraid of really.

            So Levi says nothing, just looks back at Erwin, and waits for him to choose which answer to give.

            When Levi gives no further clarification and yet keeps looking at Erwin expectantly, Erwin takes in a breath. “I suppose I’m afraid of humanity’s collapse,” he says, “of our extinction.” He takes a long moment though, and then frowns and shakes his head. “No,” he says, “that should probably be what I’m most afraid of, but it’s not. I’m more afraid that it will just continue on like this forever – that we will never gain back any land, that Titans will continue to rule, that we will never make any progress, and instead they will continue to chip away at our freedom, and every life we’ve lost beyond the walls will be for nothing, and it will just be an endless pointless struggle.”

            Levi takes the words in. It’s more honest than Levi was expecting, though he’s not sure why. Erwin is an annoyingly honest person with the people he trusts.

            “What are you afraid of, Levi?” Erwin says.

            What is he afraid of really? “You know what I’m afraid of,” Levi says.

            Erwin gives him a look. Cop out answer, it says.

            “I’m afraid of dying slowly,” he says. Alone. In filth. From disease. Like his mother.

            Is that where it all comes from?

            “I’m afraid of vomiting,” Levi says then. “I’m afraid of being filthy. I’m afraid of disease. I’m afraid of losing people. I think I’m fucking afraid of doctors now.”

            Yeah, the budding anxiety around medical that he’d had since he’d first hurt his back two years ago was definitely not helped by this most recent experience.      

            “I hate dogs,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks at him, surprised by both the information and the fact that that’s what Erwin decided to reply with. “No,” he says, “you’re shitting me.”

            “I got bit as a child, I’m terrified of them,” Erwin says, with just the hint of a smile.

            “I can’t picture it,” Levi says. “You have to like dogs.”

            “Do you like dogs?”

            “At a distance.”

            “What does that mean?”

            “I like them but they’re always filthy, and they get fur everywhere. I like them in theory. They’re ridiculous creatures and very amusing to watch but I don’t think I could ever have my own.”  

            “You should get a cat,” Erwin says, “I think you’d do well with a pet.”

            Levi frowns. He’s not really sure he knows what Erwin means. “Fur,” he says.

            “A barn cat then, so you don’t have to worry so much about the fur.”

            “Blue Jay,” he says.

            Erwin frowns. “You want a pet bird?” he says, eyebrows raised.

            “No, there’s a grey cat that lives in the east stable. His name is Blue Jay.”

            Erwin’s eyes widen at him.

            “I bring him bits of food sometimes. He doesn’t shed too much,” Levi says

            “And you named him Blue Jay?”

            “No.”

            “Who then?”

            “Isabel.”

            Erwin goes silent. It’s a rough subject for them. The cat was a kitten when Isabel had found it. It’s five years old now then. Five years, Levi thinks. It’s been five years since his best friends, his family, died.

            Levi likes the cat. He always makes sure his horse is in the east stable. Blue Jay recognizes him, comes out if he’s around. Probably just to beg for food, but sometimes Levi pets him. Isabel had loved every animal she saw. They loved her back too, always.

            It still hurts so much. Every time he thinks it’s finally started to soften there’s always something that brings the grief back into sharp focus.

            Moblit knocks on the door and then enters at that moment though. He has tea for both Erwin and Levi. Levi is grateful. He’s still cold, though he feels a little less unsettled than he had when he’d first woken up.

            Moblit leaves and tells them he’ll tell Hange that Levi is up.

            “So how are you feeling?” Erwin says.

            Levi nearly winces. “Can you at least let me drink my damn tea before you start your interrogation, Erwin?”

            He’s surprised when a deep frown appears on Erwin’s face. “I’m not trying to interrogate you, Levi, I just… you were very upset last night and I want to know if you’re okay.”

            Levi takes a sip of tea. I’m not okay, Levi thinks, but then, am I really ever okay? Is anyone? Or at least, anyone who’s seen people eaten by Titans? “I’m not going to hurt myself right now,” he says.

            Erwin hesitates, and it makes Levi frown, apprehension or at least tension rising up. “Hange is worried about you,” Erwin says.

            “Hange is always worried,” Levi says, eyes narrowing.

            “She’s specifically worried that she majorly and irreparably hurt you by making you go through with your appointment yesterday,” he says.

            Levi squints at him, leaning back a little. “Tch, I’m fucking pissed you two sprung that on me, but Shitty Glasses seriously thinks I’m so fragile that some bullshit talk about obsessions and breathing exercises has majorly and irreparably hurt me?”

            Erwin winces. “No,” he says, “she meant the appointment with the back pain doctor.”

            Levi is still confused. “She didn’t make me do anything,” Levi says, “I agreed to that appointment. I wanted that appointment.”

            Erwin has that careful look on his face now that makes Levi suspicious. “How much do you remember?” he says.

            Levi resists the urge to clench his teeth. “Erwin,” he says. He doesn’t want to relive it all again, doesn’t want to detail it out to him. He’s sure Hange already has. “I remember it,” he says.

            “She thinks she should have made the doctor stop when you were in pain and asked the doctor to stop.”

            Levi almost shudders, represses it at the last moment. His skin flushes cold again. “Oh,” he says.

            “She’s worried that it could have been traumatic,” Erwin says, “and I am too.”

            “Erwin, we fight Titans,” Levi says. “We live with traumatic every day. No group has as much collective trauma as the Survey Corps. We literally see people eaten by giant distorted humanoid creatures and you two are worried about the trauma from a doctor’s visit?”

            “Levi, you went into shock,” Erwin says, quiet. “You don’t go into shock when you see people eaten by titans.”

            Levi’s jaw clenches. Shock. Is that what Erwin’s calling the hazy period after he got back from the hospital? He hates the way Erwin is talking about this – traumatic –it was just a medical visit, and it had been fucking awful, but it was just pain, and he shouldn’t be so bothered by it, he –

            He doesn’t understand why he was so bothered by it.

            Helpless, he’d felt helpless. He couldn’t move. The pain was excruciating, some of the worst he’s ever been in. He hadn’t been expecting it to get worse. He couldn’t think after. He wanted to leave, he had just wanted to fucking leave, so, so fucking badly –

            “Someone was hurting you,” Erwin says slowly, carefully, like he’s testing the words, gauging his reaction as he goes, and Levi fucking hates it when he does this, when Levi can see how Erwin is analyzing him. “Someone was hurting you, and you asked them to stop, and they didn’t, and you tried to get away, and you couldn’t do that either, so it –”

            “Stop describing it like a fucking rape,” Levi spits out.

            Erwin freezes. Levi realizes that Erwin hadn’t made that connection before, and there’s some type of realization spreading across Erwin’s face that Levi had not intended.

            “No, Shitty Eyebrows, I wasn’t raped, we can leave that off the list of Levi’s traumatic experiences, okay, I just think you’re being a bit dramatic – she was my doctor, I get it.”

            He still kind of wants to kill her. He knows that she was doing her job and yet he can’t stop the anger that bubbles up just thinking about it – it was the same way he’d wanted to kill Erwin for holding him down when he’d been scraping himself raw trying to wash that one time out past wall Rosa.

            “Hange phrased it as a loss of bodily autonomy,” Erwin says, dropping the careful tone. “She thinks the cutting is and has always been an act of establishing bodily autonomy, that a lot of the cleaning could be too, and that this experience could affect you more significantly than other people because you already had this difficulty with feeling not in control of what’s happening to you.”

            Levi just looks at him. Well shit. He wants to snap back at him that he’s wrong, that he’s blowing things out of proportion, but the words hit and sink and Levi tries to come up with an argument and can’t.  

            Erwin waits. Levi clenches his jaw. “Alright,” he says, soft this time.

            Erwin lets out a long breath. “And even if all of that is bullshit,” Erwin says, “you were still in a lot of pain, Levi. It’s enough to make anyone shaken.”

            Levi says nothing.

            “So I wanted to know how you’re feeling,” Erwin says.

            I feel like shit. “It’s fine.”

            Erwin looks at him dubiously, something calculated there too though, like talking to Levi is a chess game. “You said ‘it.’”

            Levi raises an eyebrow.

            “You didn’t say ‘I’ you said ‘it.’ It’s fine. Not I’m fine.”

            “Didn’t peg you for a linguist.”

            “You’re deflecting.”

            Erwin’s never actually called him out on it before. They both know it’s true though. Levi leans back against the bed. “What else is new?”

            Erwin stares at him. Levi stares back. They are both very stubborn people, but Erwin bends where Levi molds, reforms. Erwin is steadfast where Levi is adaptable.

            “Why won’t you let anyone help you?” Erwin says.

            “I don’t know why you insist that I’m not letting anyone help,” Levi says. “What the hell do you think Hange getting me the flower was? Or you both sitting with me during the bouts of pain? Or going drinking with me so I didn’t break my fucking finger? Or every time you’ve stopped me from hurting myself or helped me clean myself up after?”

            “Why won’t you talk about it?” Erwin says.

            “Because I don’t fucking want to,” Levi says. “I don’t know what the hell you’re looking for, Erwin – is this some challenge to you? Some kind of curious obsession, trying to figure out how my fucked-up brain works?”

            “Do you really think that’s what this is?” Erwin says. “You really think I’m only sitting here because I’m intrigued?”

            “No,” Levi says, jaw setting, “but I don’t know what the hell you’re looking for, Erwin.”

            “I’m looking for a way to help you,” he says.

            “Has it occurred to you that there is nothing you can do to help me?” Levi says. “That maybe this is just a puzzle you can’t solve, Erwin? That I don’t want to talk because there’s nothing to talk about at all?”

            “I don’t believe that for a second,” he says, and it’s steadfast, calm and hard, always steadfast.

            Levi looks at him for a moment. “I feel like shit,” he says, “I feel cold. I’m really fucking cold.”

            Mold, reform, adaptable – it makes him unpredictable, easy to switch tactics. If Erwin wants to know how he's feeling that much, then fine, he’ll give it to him, but he knows it’s not the type of answer that Erwin’s expecting.

            “How do you feel about yesterday?” Erwin says.

            “I want to fucking kill that doctor,” Levi says. It’s the first thing he thinks of, not necessarily what he wanted to say. But Erwin’s pushing and Levi is starting to feel off center in a familiar way, going towards unhinged.

            “Do you think she did something wrong?”

            “No."

            “Then why do you want to kill her?”

            Because he hates her, because he’s angry, because it’s her fault he feels like this, so unsettled and shaky and vulnerable – vulnerable? Is that it? It’s all her fault, all because she kept going, all because she hurt him.

            Well shit.

            Levi looks back at Erwin, sees that Erwin knows exactly what Levi’s thinking. Levi can see it in his expression – it’s almost blank, but more open.

            “Tell me what I can do to help, Levi,” Erwin says. And that is him bending, that is him not pushing any farther, not trying to make Levi say it all out loud.

            Levi looks down at his hands. What does he want? What would actually help right now? He feels unbalanced in the worst possible way, craving familiarity and stability and independence. But he doesn’t know how to get those things, doesn’t know how to remedy the feelings.

But he’s also still really fucking cold. He’s near shivering. He knows the room isn’t that cold, doesn’t know why he feels horribly cold, but he does. And that is a problem with an easy and available solution. One that will make him feel better.

 “You can make me more tea,” Levi says. He pauses. “And get me a blanket from your room.”

            Erwin nods, but he doesn’t move. “Will you try some of the things Hange’s friend told you about? Things that could help?”

            “I wasn’t really paying attention.”

            “Hange took notes.”

            “I know.” Levi sighs. Looks up at Erwin again. Erwin’s expression is hard, impassive, but his eyes are wide and they give away all of the emotion underneath. “Alright,” Levi says.

Notes:

I'm apparently incapable of writing anything without a medical phobia thrown in. This should be the last we focus on injuries/pain for a couple chapters though. As always, thank you for reading and comments make my day!

Chapter 7: Eat

Summary:

Levi develops some trouble with food.

(This is not really an eating disorder but it could be triggering anyway - please keep the tags in mind.)

Notes:

Ugh long chapter notes.

It’s not terribly relevant, but these are the ages of Squad Levi that I’m going off of. The only thing that’s canon here are the kill and assist counts – I’ve taken that straight from the manga. Levi should be like ten years older and based on some of the dialogue in the female titan arch, I’m pretty sure the rest all joined after the fall of wall Maria, meaning Gunther and Eld have half the experience I’m giving them and they’re all probably younger than I have them here. Particularly, Oluo is supposed to be 19? Anyway, I’ve taken some liberties with the ages.

Gunther, present age 21; 7 kills, 40 assists (47 total) by the time Eren joins them; (joined at age 15, 6 years of experience currently) 18 years old at the fall of wall Maria, 23 years old when Eren enters Corps
22 Eld; 14, 32 (46); (joined 16, 6 years) 19 wall Maria, 24 Eren
25 Oluo; 39, 9 (48); (joined 22 after fall of wall Maria, 3 years) 22 wall Maria, 27 Eren
18 Petra; 10, 48 (58); (joined 15, 3 years) 15 wall Maria, 20 Eren
23 Levi; a shit ton; (joined 16/17, 6 years) 20 wall Maria, 25 Eren

There are two OC’s in here that will have only small parts and honestly I don’t think this is really much of a spoiler but they're OC’s because they’re gonna die before Eren enters the Corps. I need them here to set up for a future chapter.
19 Dorcia Kaminski (joined at 15, 4 years)
19 Artur Kaminski (joined at 15, 4 years)

            Levi is twenty-three, three years after the fall of wall Maria, when Erwin has Levi form the Special Operations squad with the orders to pick anyone he wants.

            Two members of his previous squad remain with him. Eld and Gunther. They are easy choices. Eld is levelheaded and the most versatile fighter Levi has ever worked with, not to mention that after years on the same team, Eld and Levi move seamlessly together. Gunther has only half the kill count that Eld does but more assists. He’s more cautious, more strategic, and is excellent in predicting what his teammates need before they even know they need it.

            Oluo is his next pick. His kill count is rapidly racking up. He has the same number of kills as Eld and half the experience. Oluo, while older than the rest of the team, joined only three years prior, after the fall of wall Maria. Oluo’s a bit overly aggressive, with a high kill count but very low assist rate, but that makes him work astoundingly well with Gunther, with Oluo going for the nape and Gunther slicing through hands and ankle tendons.

            The Kaminski twins have garnered attention for some time now because of the ridiculous fighting style they developed as cadets. It’s been four years since then though and they’ve mastered it. By working seamlessly together, they cut the same nape at the exact same time, Dorcia making the top cut and Artur making the bottom one. The approach has them taking their inside sword (Dorcia is left-handed), plunging it straight into the nape, and then flipping their bodies and dragging the sword behind them. In this way, they enter the cut almost vertical with their feet in the air, enter a front flip, and end it by kicking off of the creature, their opposite sword already raised in front of them. It is ideal for fighting multiple titans, because it allows them to quickly move from one to the other and wastes no time between – they’re already in perfect position to take on the next titan while only just exiting a kill.

            It takes Levi a bit longer to settle on Petra. He takes a couple of weeks to observe different squads and is not overly impressed by anyone. He vaguely recognizes Petra but has never worked directly with her, which would be why he hadn’t noticed her skill before.

            She, like Eld, is a versatile fighter. She’s not egotistically aggressive the way that Oluo is – she is happy to assist rather than kill if that’s what’s best. She’s also not as passive as Gunther and she’s good at making snap decisions. But what makes Levi pick her is the fact that she is one of the most skilled soldiers with OMD gear that Levi has ever seen – her movements are more fluid and coordinated, precise, than any other member of their squad, possibly even more so than Levi. Levi knows that she has been overlooked before because she doesn’t have the brute strength or dramatic fighting style that people like Oluo and Levi have, but her skills are so much more fine-tuned than the average soldier. The only reason she hasn’t outranked the other members of the team in her assist rate yet is because she’s the youngest and most inexperienced of the group – she is 18 years old, having been with the corps for 3 years.

At first Levi thinks he will find her annoying, but the slight hero worship she shows him at first fades quickly to deep loyalty and comfortable ferocity while out in the field.

            They’re on one of their first missions outside wall Rosa as a team when Petra comes out of the kitchen of an abandoned building holding a large pot of soup. She loves to cook and quickly became their resident chef when away from the mess hall at their base. She’d found the large pot and a couple of stored preserves that were still edible and decided to make soup.

            She pours them out for everyone with bowls and spoons she’d also found there. Levi can’t help thinking about the dust that must have accumulated on them, but when she places one in front of him it’s slightly wet and completely clean.

            He takes his first bite and is surprised at how good it tastes. There’s something a little off though, and he can’t quite place it but it tastes good enough that he keeps eating. Everyone else devours theirs quickly, telling Petra how good it is as well.

            Levi is halfway through his soup and everyone else is pretty much finished when he realizes what that strange taste is and his body goes cold.

            “Petra,” Levi says, “did you put any of the dried yellow flowers in this?”

            “The tea leaves?” she says, obviously confused. “I put tea leaves in soups sometimes for flavor – it’s something my mom taught me. I didn’t use your black tea though.”

            “The dried yellow ones,” he says, “you used those?”

            “Yes,” she says. Her voice has gotten quieter, and she’s looking around to where everyone now has stopped moving and is staring at her.

            “How much did you use up?” Levi says.

            “A-all of it,” she says.

            Levi stands abruptly from the seat he was in, shoving it away. He slams the door closed after him when he walks out. He walks away from the house, into the small yard, and punches a high fence post.

            “Fuck,” he says, as pain bursts out across his knuckles. He throws a piece of wood that’s lying on the ground. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says.

            He presses his hands to his face, feels panic and dread and anger well up. It’s been over two years now that he’s been taking the stupid flowers, half a small, carefully portioned dose in the morning, the other half at night. He’d put the packet in with their rations because he always ate it at mealtime anyway. He hadn’t considered that Petra wouldn’t know what it was.

            He sits down on a low stone wall and stays there as the sun goes down completely, the sky a deep blue, stars not quite visible yet.

            He hears the door creak open, then footsteps. “Captain,” Eld says.

            “Mm,” Levi says. He doesn’t move.

            Eld comes over and sits next to him, several feet away though, and looks out at the horizon as well.

            “Will you be okay?” he says. “Is there any… consequences, to stopping so abruptly?”

            “Yes,” he says.

            “What are they?”

            “I’m about to find out.”

 

 

            It’s not even just that he won’t be able to take the flowers for the remainder of their trip – they’re only supposed to spend one more night out there anyway – it’s that those flowers were supposed to last him for the next three weeks. Which in hindsight, was incredibly stupid. He never should have brought the whole package with him, but he hadn’t thought to divide out a portion for the trip. He doesn’t know how quickly Hange or Erwin will be able to get him more.

            When he walks back inside Gunther and Oluo are looking at him with carefully guarded expressions and when Levi looks back, almost but not quite glaring, they quickly look away. Artur avoids eye contact all together and Dorcia is strategically washing dishes. Petra stands as soon as he enters, tears in her eyes and looking at the floor.

            “Captain Levi, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t realize they were yours, I didn’t – I’m so sorry, I should have asked before I used them. I take full responsibility and –”

            Levi clicks his tongue. “Tch, Petra, save your energy. It’s my fault for putting it in with the rations.” He brushes past her. “I’ll take first watch,” he says. He grabs some water and then heads back outside to go sit up on the roof.

            He sleeps maybe two hours that night, and fitfully at that. He doesn’t notice a difference until the next night. Eld and Gunther watch him carefully. They’ve been with him the longest. They know his habits the best. All four of them treat him strangely and it makes his eye twitch. He’s not a fragile child. He’s just a fucked up adult.

            He’s staring at the bread and piece of jerky in front of him the next night when he starts to feel sick. He’s not hungry, and when he stands up, a wash of dizziness comes over him.

            The next day it gets worse. His stomach rolls and riding horseback is making it that much worse. His head hurts and his vision gets spotty and spins every once in a while. When they get back to the base he immediately goes back to his room, tells Eld to go report back to Erwin. He really needs to find Hange but he can’t even manage that. He’s exhausted and feels sick and just wants a bath and to lie down.

            Erwin knocks on his door twenty minutes later, as he’s getting dressed after getting out of the tub. He opens the door.

            “Eld told me about the medicine,” he says, a deep frown on his face.

            “My head feels like someone is pounding on it with a hammer and I’m dizzy as fuck,” Levi says. He goes and sits down on his bed.

            “I’ll put in the order for more tomorrow and see if Hange can find any sooner than that,” Erwin says.

            Levi grunts in recognition.

            “Are you feeling alright?” Erwin says.

            “I just told you how I feel,” Levi says, and then he sighs and continues before Erwin can clarify. “Fine at the moment,” he says. “I’m not about to hack off any fingers so just relax.”

            “Let me know if you don’t feel well,” Erwin says.

 

 

            He keeps feeling dizzy and sick and his head hurts. Food makes him feel like he’s going to vomit and vomit has always made the desperate crawling of his skin flare to life so he simply stops eating. Hange gives him something else to counteract the symptoms that doesn’t do shit. He tries to train and is frustrated with himself when his performance is inconsistent. Hange tells him the symptoms should clear in a few days but they don’t. It’s a week in and he still feels just as sick and Erwin told him he won’t be able to get more for another week at least.

            He picks at his food while his stomach turns. He’s only eaten a piece of bread today. It’s dinner and he knows he needs to eat more, but even that bread had him feeling nauseous for half the morning. It was just a piece of bread. It makes him wonder if it was contaminated somehow.

            It is a line of thinking that he tries very hard not to go down. He knows from experience that once he starts he can’t stop. First it’s who touched the food when it was distributed, then it’s how it was prepared, then how it was stored, for how long it was stored, where did the shipment come from, who delivered the shipment, who packaged them up in boxes and pots, who transported them, who picked the crops, where were the crops planted –

            It spirals on and on and there is no way for Levi to be able to gather all that information. He thinks of mold growing on bread, rotting fruit, dirt not completely washed off of plants, grimy, unwashed hands all over the food, the ill and diseased handling it.

            It makes him eat hurriedly and not very much. He has never needed much food, has never had much food. He just tries not to think about it. That doesn’t always work well.

            It’s not working well now. His stomach hurts and the thought of vomiting terrifies him. More than that, he has all the ways the food could have become contaminated dancing around in his head.

            “Oi, Captain,” Eld says, and Levi looks up at him, across the table. “Something wrong with cook’s mash?”

            “You mean besides the fact that it looks like shit with some corn thrown in?” Levi says. He looks back down but can’t force himself to take a bite.

            “Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” Petra says.

            She’s been extra nice to him, small, quiet remarks with a nervous air. She hasn’t tried to apologize again but it’s clear that she feels guilty.

            “Just not particularly hungry today,” he says, giving up. He pushes the bowl away from himself. “Have at,” he says, and gets up.

            The next day he comes down and stares at the oatmeal in front of him.

            “It’s not gonna bite you, Captain,” Gunther says.

            Levi puts his elbow on the table and puts his jaw against his fist, leaning, still staring.

            “Come on, Levi, you can’t just stare at it,” Eld says. “You didn’t eat anything last night.”

            He’s right and Levi sighs. He takes a bite. It tastes like watery mush. It’s disgusting and he swallows against it and feels like he’s going to be sick. That sets off alarms in his head and then he’s standing up, shaking his head.

            “I’ll see if I can get a piece of bread,” he says, leaving.

            He does not get a piece of bread. He goes to train and then at lunch he receives a piece of bread and a scoop of vegetables.

            He inspects the bread carefully and there are two spots (two) that appear to be mold beginning to appear. He rips those sections off, but then he starts thinking that if there’s two spots there’s probably more, probably more that he just can’t see yet. He moves on to the vegetables, but of course, if the bread was bad, then how does he know the vegetables are any better?

            He forces himself to take a couple bites of them anyway. He throws the bread out.

 

 

He keeps feeling dizzy and off center for the next two weeks, when the package of dried flowers finally arrives.

            There’s a couple of instances where he scrubs his skin raw, bleeding knuckles and knees and elbows, small cuts reopened, but it’s not as bad as Levi expects. He starts taking the medicine again and grows frustrated when he doesn’t immediately feel better.

            Then he passes out during a training exercise.

He doesn’t hurt himself, thankfully. He had come to a stop on the ground before fainting. Hange finds him afterwards, after he refuses to go to medical and instead sits down and drinks some water and watches the training, calling out instructions, for the rest of the day.

            Hange barges in while he’s changing. She’s never been good about knocking and he hadn’t locked his door. He’s wearing pants but only just grabbing a shirt to pull on.

            She stops right where she is. “You’ve lost weight,” she says.

            “I haven’t been hungry,” he says, pulling the shirt over his head. He looks in the mirror and fixes the collar.

            He doesn’t realize until the next day that that had been the wrong thing to say. Suddenly Hange is next to him at every mealtime, prodding him and nagging and bringing him more food after he takes his small portions. When he says he can’t eat the bread because of suspicious spots that may be mold forming, she doesn’t try to argue with him. She just brings back the packaged rations that they take when going past the walls, the ones that taste like sawdust but at least are nutritious. He chokes down a couple bites but even those upset his stomach. He hears that one of the cooks is ill and he won’t eat anything from the mess hall for a week. He goes into town and buys bread and Hannge brings him rations. Even after the cook is clearly better, he remains nervous. He starts to dread mealtimes and the inevitable anxiety they cause, coupled with Hange’s prodding and the worried looks from his teammates.

            “Hange said you’re not eating,” Erwin says to him, after he nearly faints for the second time. It’s about a month after Petra used up all his medicine, two weeks after he’d started taking it again.

            “I’m not hungry,” Levi says. They’re in his room. Erwin always likes to corner him up there, Levi thinks.

            “Is this part of it,” Erwin says, “part of you hurting yourself?”

            “No,” Levi says, annoyed. “I told you. I’m not hungry, and I still feel sick every time I try to eat.”

            “Hange said you’ve been worried about the food being contaminated.”

            “What are you two, coconspirators or something?” Levi says. He flops down onto his bed, on his back, and looks at the ceiling.

            “We’re worried about you,” Erwin says. “We care for you and you’re making yourself ill.”

            “I am not,” Levi says. I am keeping myself from getting ill, don’t you see that?

            “You can’t fight like this,” Erwin says, “you’re going to get yourself killed if we go outside the walls.”

            “I’ll be fine.”

            “No, you won’t Levi. You almost passed out again and I’ve seen you train, Levi, your reaction time is slower and you have less precision.”

            “Which still puts me at much better than the average soldier,” Levi says. He doesn’t try to argue with Erwin on that one – he knows it’s true.

            “Until you gain weight and are eating consistently again you are barred from any active duty,” Erwin says. He says it like he’s handing down a sentence.

            Levi snorts. “You can’t do that,” he says, “you need me.”

            “I need you at your best,” Erwin says.

            “If I want to go outside the walls there is nothing you can do to stop me,” Levi says.

            “Well I’m certainly not going to sanction it.”

            Levi looks up at him. Erwin has that tight frown that Levi finds equal parts irritating and amusing. Levi’s stomach turns again and Levi feels like he’s sinking. He doesn’t know how to respond to Erwin and he’s tired of arguing.

“I don’t know how to do better, Erwin,” Levi says. It might just be the most honest thing that he has ever said to Erwin, Levi realizes starkly.

            “Come down to medical with me,” Erwin says. “You said you feel sick, right? Maybe you’ve caught something.”

            “I hate medical,” he says. The place makes his stomach turn. Which considering he already feels sick is not something he wants to engage in.

            “Please,” Erwin says, “let them draw some blood, check you out, maybe give you some nausea medication.”

            “Hange gave me some, it didn’t work,” Levi says. Needles again too.

            “Please,” Erwin says.

            Levi sighs. “Fine.”

 

 

            Levi glares at the doctor the entire time they’re there. She keeps looking from Levi to Erwin like she’s very confused. Erwin stands in the doorway and watches while she checks his pulse and his heartrate. She weighs him and clucks her tongue. Levi demands that she re-sterilize the needle before she takes blood. When she does, he watches it with an impassive and yet highly focused expression, eyes never leaving the needle and the plunger, blood traveling up. Erwin makes sure to tell her about the flowers that Levi eats.

            “The main thing is that you’re just very underweight,” she says. She goes shuffling through files before pulling out Levi’s. “It looks like you’ve lost fifteen pounds since your last physical, and you really did not have that much weight to lose to begin with.”

            “I feel sick when I eat,” he says.

            “Well I’ll send over the blood sample to be examined, but you probably just feel sick because you aren’t eating. Especially with that medicinal plant you’re taking. Give it a few days of normal eating and the nausea should go away.”

 

 

            Levi stares at the food in front of him. A serving of steamed vegetables, a roll of bread, and a small bit of chicken. It’s not a large meal. Levi just keeps staring.

            “The bread was baked today,” Erwin says. “The chicken is cooked thoroughly and I checked to make sure the vegetables were thoroughly cleaned.”

            Levi holds a cup of tea in both hands. He takes a sip.

            “She said that you just have to eat well for a few days and then the nausea will go away and you’ll get your appetite back,” Erwin says.

            Levi takes another sip. He puts down the cup of tea and picks up his fork. He pushes the vegetables around, peering down at them, looking for any sign of rot or dirt or other malignant imperfections.

            Erwin sighs. Levi looks up at him at the noise and glares.

            “It’s just food, Levi,” he says. “It’s the same food you’ve been eating for years.”

            Levi takes a bite of vegetable. He takes a second bite. On the third his stomach starts to turn and he puts down the fork.

            He looks back up to see Erwin looking expectantly at him.

            “I feel sick,” Levi says.

            They’re sitting in Erwin’s office, where Erwin had dragged him to. He has his own plate of food where he’s sitting across from Levi, which he hasn’t touched either. He’s just been staring at Levi and nagging at him instead.

            “You’ll feel better after you eat,” Erwin says firmly.

            Levi scowls at him. “I’m not a child,” he says.

            “I don’t think you are one,” Erwin says. “But you need to eat. I know you don’t feel well now but it’ll only be a few days and then you will.”

            Levi tries a bite of chicken. He feels too sick to be able to enjoy it. He takes a second bite and his stomach protests and then Levi puts down the fork again, leaning back in his chair.

            “I’m done,” he says.

            “You need to have more, Levi,” Erwin says, voice hard.

            “If I have more, I will vomit,” he says.

            “I don’t think you will,” Erwin says.

            “I will vomit all over your desk and your paperwork.”

            “You won’t get sick. It’s not much food, you can handle the rest.”

            “I can’t, Erwin, I feel sick,” Levi says. He feels tired. He’s been more tired recently and he knows it’s because he’s not eating.

            (He thinks of his six year old self, who would be appalled with him, having food right in front of him and not eating it, being hungry and not eating – but no, he’s not really hungry, he keeps telling himself he’s not really hungry –)

            “You need to eat, Levi,” Erwin repeats.

            Levi’s eyes flash, the irritation suddenly snapping upwards. “And are you going to force feed me, Commander?” he says.

            “Of course not,” Erwin says evenly. “But you need food.”

            “I am not hungry and I am going to be sick if I eat anymore,” Levi says deliberately, back against the backrest of the chair, eyes narrowed at Erwin.

            “You don’t feel well,” Erwin says, “but you need to eat anyway. You feel sick, but I really doubt you will actually be sick. Even if you are, that will just be my fault, and I’ll leave you alone if you do.”

            “I can’t be sick,” Levi says, too fast.

            Erwin looks at him for a long moment, expression shifting. “Is that a thing?” Erwin says, and Levi bristles at that – a thing – he asks, because this is now a thing that Levi has. “Vomit,” Erwin says, as if it wasn’t perfectly clear what he was talking about. “You’re afraid of vomiting?”

            “It’s not an activity I particularly enjoy,” Levi says.

            “But it’s like the cleaning,” Erwin says, unperturbed, gentle. “So you’re afraid of pushing the nausea too much.”

            Levi says nothing and instead just glowers at him.

            Erwin gets up. He retrieves a waste basket and puts it on the desk they’re sitting at.

            “What is this?” Levi says, his voice dark and low and Erwin imagines it would make most people cower.

            “If you need to vomit then do so in that and I will take it and clean it for you,” Erwin says.

            “No,” Levi says.

            “You can hardly get dirty from it that way,” Erwin says, gesturing.

            “No-”

            “I’ll get you a second bucket of water and a toothbrush,” Erwin says, getting up. “That way if you do vomit you won’t have to wait a minute before you can be clean again.”

            He’s gone before Levi can do anything. Levi looks at the waste basket and then looks at the food and then thinks to himself, fucking old man, fuck this, I’m leaving, but then doesn’t move and keeps looking at the food. After a few moments he takes a small bite of bread.

            Erwin comes back and presents a small bucket and a new toothbrush with soap for that as well. He places both on the desk as well.

            Levi looks down at the food. The thought of vomiting is still horrifying, but he looks at the wastebasket and then the bucket and then the toothbrush and then the soap. He takes another small bite of food.

            It takes him forty minutes to finish the meal. Every time he begins to feel sick, he stops. He waits until the sensation passes, or at least lessons, and then he takes another couple bites.

            Erwin is patient. He says nothing more about his eating when it becomes clear that Levi is continuing to eat, just very slowly.

 

 

            It becomes a routine. Every breakfast and dinner, Levi meets Erwin in his office and Erwin already has two plates set up. He waits as long as Levi needs to finish his meals – at first he is not able to always eat all the food on his plate. Erwin doesn’t nag as long as he’s eaten the majority. He never gets sick from it, but Erwin always has the two buckets and the toothbrush out just in case.

            Lunches he’s on his own, because Erwin isn’t always available at the same time as Levi is, and it’s harder to carve out the amount of time Levi needs to finish his meals in the middle of the day. It’s enough that he starts to feel less dizzy and weak though, and then he begins to feel less nauseas, and two weeks later he’s pretty much fine again.

            He takes to eating breakfast in Erwin’s office anyway. They go back to having dinner in the mess hall, but the breakfasts go on, and while they eat, they discuss battle plans and the new recruits and Erwin’s fascination with butterflies and Levi’s favorite teas.

Chapter 8: Questions

Summary:

Alternatively titled, Death and Sex and Marriage. Some snippets of Levi and Erwin.

(It starts dark and gets progressively lighter.)

Notes:

Hey, please note the added tag for homophobia. (There's nothing with specific characters being homophobic, it's the government being homophobic, but it is in here.)

Possible very slight dub con? It's not intended to be read as such but it could be interpreted that way.

Also, I've struggled to find a definitive rank system in the Scouts, so I've decided on one which I think is close to how it is in canon. Here, Erwin is Commander, under him are the squad leaders (such as Hange and Mike), and each squad leader has several teams under them, each with a team leader. Below that are officers, and then just recruits. Captains, like Levi, have a rank somewhere between a squad leader and a team leader, but have a different designation because they operate outside of the general larger squad groups - that is to say, Levi is not under any squad leader, but he's not as high in rank as a squad leader either, and he doesn't have teams under him, just his one squad.

            It’s after a particularly rough trip along their emerging supply line outside wall Rosa when Levi follows Erwin back to his room after they return to their base. They’d lost more people than normal, and they’d had to sacrifice two of their supply wagons to get back without even more casualties.

            Erwin almost always goes immediately to a meeting or to his office when they get back, and even if Levi couldn’t read the tension in Erwin’s shoulders and expression, he would still know how hard it was hitting Erwin simply based on the fact that Erwin goes straight to his room instead.

            Levi closes the door behind them just as Erwin takes out a bottle of vodka. He pours two glasses. Levi picks up one and then takes one of the two chairs in the room (the red one with the high back and boxed in armrests – Erwin has started referring to it as “Levi’s chair”). Erwin takes the other and leans his head down against one hand.

            “Are you afraid to die, Levi?” Erwin says.

            “No,” Levi says.

            “I am.”

            Levi waits for more. Levi is getting used to these moods that Erwin has – they’re beginning to merge with his normal countenance in a concerning fashion – or maybe it’s just that as Levi and Erwin have grown closer, Levi is seeing more of the darker side of Erwin – the side which he hides behind hard resolution, the face of a Commander. Levi watches Erwin take a long sip of vodka. (Straight vodka – Levi will never understand why Erwin prefers to sip on pure vodka of all things.) Levi takes his own sip and takes a breath at the burn.

            “How many of the recruits we take, how many of them do you think are not afraid to die?” Erwin says.

            “There’s a difference between not being afraid to die and not being afraid to be eaten by a titan,” Levi says.

            “Are you afraid of being eaten by a titan?” Erwin says.

            “No.”

            “I’m not either.”

            Levi is not surprised. They have been at this too long to still be scared of titans – scared in the way that new recruits are, at least.

            “You didn’t answer my first question though,” Erwin says, “how many of the new Survey Corps recruits each year – what do you estimate the percentage of those truly unafraid of death are?”

            It’s a morbid question, or at least, it seems that way to Levi. “Hell if I know, Erwin,” Levi says, “are you asking how many of them are suicidal? I guess we must get more of those then the other two branches.”

            “How many do you think are suicidal?” Erwin says.

            “God, Erwin, don't ask me that. I don't know.”

            “Do you think any of them are unafraid of death but not suicidal? Do you think it’s possible to be truly unafraid of death without being suicidal?”

            You can be suicidal and still afraid of death, Levi thinks. But that’s not what Erwin asked. Truly unafraid of death without wanting death. If you do not want something to happen, can you still be unafraid that it will? Levi’s first thought is yes, but then he thinks that may be too simple.

            Levi has no answer, so he says nothing. He gets up instead and grabs the bottle of vodka. He refills his glass, and then tops off Erwin’s as well.

            “I need more alcohol if we’re going to continue with this existential shit,” he says.

            “What is it like to be unafraid of death?” Erwin says, after Levi sits down again.

            “Shitty,” Levi says. He takes another large gulp of alcohol, clenches his teeth and almost coughs with it. He really needs to drink more if this conversation is going where he thinks it is.

            But Erwin doesn’t press. He doesn’t need to, Levi thinks. Levi knows that Erwin knows. He just doesn’t have the details. They don’t talk about it. They have never talked about it, so they speak in these easy, half-veiled sentences – false fronts with no pretense to being anything more than that.

            “Do you think it’s worse to die in terror?” Erwin says.

            “You’re still dead either way,” Levi says.

            “People always wish for a peaceful death.”

            “Of course they do. No one wants to experience terror or suffering or pain, whether it’s before death or not.”

            “I have a stack of condolence letters to write tomorrow,” Erwin says. “Do you think that would be comforting? It doesn’t matter that your son or daughter died a terrible, gruesome death. Dead is dead, after all.”

            “I wouldn’t particularly recommend it,” Levi says.

            Erwin lets out a dry laugh. “I have a formula for writing those letters. Death, down to a bureaucratic template.”

            “We all do,” Levi says. “You know better than to dwell on cruel realities, Erwin. There are too many of them and we’ve lived them for too long.”

            “I know you’re not as detached as that,” Erwin says.

            “I know you’re not as idealistic as to forfeit efficiency for sentiment.”

             “So much death and horror and cruel reality,” Erwin says. “Do you think this war takes pieces from us?”

            “Undoubtedly.”

            Erwin takes another long sip from his cup.

            “But you knew that already,” Levi says.

            “Yes, I did,” Erwin says. Another sip. He looks back at Levi with unreadable eyes – Levi usually can tell much more from those eyes. “Mike is gathering the list of dead.”

            “I’ll help you write the letters tomorrow.”

 

 

 

            Levi and Erwin eat breakfast in Erwin’s office nearly every day, and Levi attends almost all of the same meetings as Erwin. (Hange is usually there as well, along with Mike and the other squad leaders.) Slowly, Levi becomes one of Erwin’s most trusted advisers and confidants. Levi comes to his office in the evening often, to do paperwork or strategize or to just sit there sometimes.

            They rarely talk about Levi’s cleaning and self-harm unless Levi is actively engaged in one of the two. It happens sporadically, and Erwin wonders if it’s much more often then he knows. Levi deflects or outright refuses to talk about it most of the time unless Erwin’s just caught him or stopped him.

            It’s easy to forget though, when they’re busy with planning or training or are going on expeditions. They’re busy, and the stakes are always high, so it’s easy to let the more personal conversations slip through the cracks. Still, Erwin wishes that Levi would let him help more – wishes that he could help more.

            “Do you know why?” Erwin asks Levi, when he’s come into his office with pink raw skin again and bleeding knuckles.

            “Why what?” Levi says. He’s sitting on one of the big chairs, arms thrown out around the armrests, legs crossed, head tipped back, exposing the line of his neck. He sits like that a lot and it has always struck Erwin as a somehow aggressively casual pose – the position is deliberately relaxed, like he’s either trying to feign calmness or he’s baiting someone – like he’s trying to portray that he does not need an aggressive stance because no one can hurt him anyway.

            “Why you care about cleanliness so much. Why it bothers you to the point of hurting yourself.”

            Levi shrugs. “I never told you about my mother, did I?” he says.

            Erwin looks up completely now, the pen he was holding abruptly going still. Levi has told him very little about his family, and at least half of it was when he was drunk.

            Erwin waits. Levi’s head tips sideways again, eyes narrow as they always are. “She died of illness. I was six. I sat in the room with her dead body for two days.”

            Levi looks steadily at him as he says it and Erwin doesn’t move at all, completely still. Levi’s face remains expressionless, or rather it remains that impassive, almost disinterested look that is his usual expression. Just his eyes – they are the only indication. They are too focused, looking back at him.

            He likes doing this, Erwin thinks. Levi likes making shocking statements, and Erwin can’t pinpoint why – is it that Levi is actually quite dramatic in a subtle, quiet way, or is it that he likes attention much more than he would ever let on – or is it just that he is a shocking person, has had a lot of horrible, shocking things happen to him, and at least a small part of him wants other people to know that, wants to tell other people, to have them understand and listen. Erwin wonders if the careful way Levi watches him when he makes statements like that are really just to gauge his reaction, to see if it’s safe to say more.

            Levi’s eyes slip over back to the wall then. “Everything is filthy in the underground,” Levi says, “Filth leads to illness. I remember the smell of her body decaying.” He continues looking at the wall, head tilted, almost musing. “I assume it has something to do with that.”

            Shocking, Erwin thinks. The words are pointed for horror, how could they not be? He knows what he’s doing, Erwin thinks. Is it really for the drama, or is it just that there is no subtle way to tell someone that you watched your own mother begin to decompose, so he might as well lean into it?

            Maybe it’s just because if people react with shock and horror, it means they are not reacting with pity.

            “You’re afraid of getting sick?” Erwin says.

            Levi shrugs. “Sweat doesn’t make you sick. Neither does dust. Blood can, I guess.”

            “It’s part of it though?” Erwin says.

            “Yes, I suppose it is,” Levi says, with his head turned to the wall, staring like the wooden panels might have the answers.

            He’s too detached, Erwin thinks. It’s on purpose, or maybe it’s habit now, a coping mechanism.

            Somewhere between taking his first steps above ground and the months after Furlan and Isabel’s death, Levi had split his life in two, separated the new self from the former, started over because it was the only way to move forward. Erwin realizes it all in an instant, and then wonders how thick that wall is, and if Erwin had helped to build it. He wonders if that wall is no different from the walls that trap them away from the titans, a defense that was built out of necessity and which has since become a cage.

            “You’re looking at me like that again,” Levi says, and it breaks Erwin from his thoughts.

            “Like what?” he says.

            “Don’t play dumb, that’s my line,” Levi says, raising an eyebrow.

            “How often do you do that?” Erwin says, and nods at his hands.

            Levi looks like he wants to pull them back but he doesn’t. He brings one up to inspect instead, looking at his knuckles, like if he can’t hide it then he’ll go the opposite route instead, bring attention to it so as to play it off.

            Erwin wonders if Levi consciously knows he’s doing it.

            “It’s not consistent. I’ll go a month without any bleeding and then I’ll wash my hands like this multiple times a day three days in a row,” Levi says before looking back at him. It’s about what Erwin expected. “Why were you looking at me like I’m one of your strategy maps?” Levi says.

            “Thinking about how you’ve changed,” Erwin says.

            Levi lets out a snort and looks away again. “Just don’t say anything about how I’m so grown up now or some shit.”

            Erwin smiles. 

 

 

 

            “With the cleanliness,” Erwin says another time. “Does sex bother you?”

            Levi looks up from where he is draped over Erwin’s armchair, this time with his back against one armrest and his feet over the other, flipping through pages upon pages of reports. (He’s gotten much better at reading over the past three years.) They’re doing paperwork together in Erwin’s office. He raises an eyebrow at Erwin.

            “You are a pervert,” Levi says.

            “I was just wondering,” Erwin says, and his expression is neither embarrassed nor apologetic. “Because you said it’s at least in part about illness.”

            Levi looks back down at the report and flips another page. “Yes, it bothers me,” Levi says. “No, not to the point that I’ve resigned myself to celibacy.”

            “You’ve had sex then,” Erwin says.

            Levi puts down the papers in his lap and gives Erwin a very, very unimpressed look. “Yes, Erwin, I’ve had sex,” Levi says. “Would you like a detailed history or will you let me finish reading these reports now?”

            “Fine,” Erwin says, but the corner of his lip twitches up into a smile.

            The fucker, Levi thinks.

 

 

 

 

            Levi had told Erwin that he had not resigned himself to celibacy, and he meant that, but the conversation had brought up the topic in his mind and now he realizes that that is essentially exactly what he has been doing. It's been three years, right before the fall of wall Maria.

            Levi has had sex five times in his life and he has not particularly enjoyed any of the experiences. Twice with Furlan, once with a girl he met at a bar, once with a man he met at a bar when he was nearly too drunk to stand up straight, and once with a fellow soldier who died one week later.

            The closest thing he’s had to a romantic relationship would be the last. His name was Peter. It was right before Wall Maria fell.

            He and Furlan had sex because they were bored and both attracted to men. Levi was fifteen and Furlan was seventeen. Levi could kiss as long as the other person had brushed their teeth and not eaten or drank anything in between brushing and kissing. He could kiss as long as his skin wasn’t itching beforehand, as long as he was horny enough to temporarily override the part of his brain that found exchanging spit disgusting. He could have sex if he was on bottom and the other man took a shower first. He could not get over his disgust to top.

            Levi tried having sex twice with Furlan and then decided that the discomfort was not worth the gratification. That and Furlan was not content to just fuck. He had flings, had boyfriends and girlfriends who never lasted more than two months, would lament about it and then do the same thing all over again.

            Levi had sex with a woman he met at a bar mostly out of desperation. It was after he joined the Survey Corps, a couple months after Furlan and Isabel died, and he was seventeen and lonely and horny. There were men in the Corps that he was attracted to but none he could imagine having sex with without it turning into an uncomfortable if not downright repulsive affair. He thought maybe having sex with a woman would be easier.

            It was not. He found the exchange of bodily fluids slightly more bearable but he could not escape the fact that he was simply not attracted to women – which meant the distraction of actual lust was not there, and so the entire endeavor only ended with him unable to cum and her very irritated.

            Having sex with a man while drunk was entirely purposeful. It was shortly after his failed attempt with a woman. He decided that maybe he’d just need to be drunk to really enjoy it. It had been difficult at first to find someone – being gay was still technically illegal – but some careful prying revealed that a certain space of a certain bar on certain nights was known to cater towards gay men and women. So he went to the bar and started talking to another man and decided that he was reasonably attractive enough, not horribly boring, and looked very clean. Levi liked his smile.

            Once he picked the man, he’d gotten shitfaced. The man seemed hesitant to leave with him because of his level of intoxication but Levi was persuasive enough even drunk that they still left together. It was not fun. Levi’s repulsion to filth was not inhibited enough by alcohol to retreat to manageable levels, and Levi wound up being overly aggressive about the cleanliness of the man’s sheets, teeth, and body, to the point where the man definitely started to get freaked out. They had sex anyway. Levi told him not to cum inside of him and the man, accidentally or not, did anyway. Levi was too drunk to cum. The man was too drunk to realize Levi wasn’t prepped enough. It hurt the next morning.

            When he had sex with Peter he had made his demands and Peter had just smiled and gone along with it – had taken a shower, cleaned the sheets, brushed his teeth (twice). It felt good and for the first time Levi liked kissing. It still grated, even more so right afterwards (and he had jumped up out of bed, was washing himself, then washing Peter, then changing the sheets, all as quickly as possible, and he’d felt it, the itch – he’d put soap water in his mouth again) but he had just started to think that maybe he could get used to it, that it was probably (definitely) worth it as long as he wasn’t having a particularly bad day with the washing – that maybe he could learn to really enjoy sex with this man. (That maybe he could learn to really like this man, who smiled at him and laughed when he glared, who brushed his teeth twice without any questions.)

            And then Peter had died.

            Levi hadn’t seriously thought about sex (as in the actual finding a partner and having sex part – not the fantasizing with a hand on his dick part) since Peter died. Levi isn’t one to avoid building relationships because of the threat of death, but Peter still comes to mind.

            Levi sits in the mess hall and looks around. He’s come in at the busiest time, which he normally avoids, but his squad had stopped early due to an equipment malfunction that would need to be exchanged.

            He looks around the mess hall, filled with recruits and officers and team leaders and squad leaders and him, a captain. His eyes skim through them.

            If he wants to find someone to have sex with within the Scouts, it will need to at the very least be an officer. A team leader would be better. His rank as captain put him in between team leader and squad leader, but it was more a technicality than anything – a rank created purely so that someone could operate outside of a squad leader’s control (unlike a team leader) and not be responsible for a large group (such as a squad leader).

            He wonders if it is still considered fraternization if he were to fuck a team leader or squad leader. He doesn’t much care. A squad leader would probably be better – he’s really closer in authority if not in technical rank to a squad leader than a team leader, but there are so few squad leaders to choose from.

            “Levi – you alright?”

            Levi looks over to see Gunther frowning at him. Levi realizes he’s just been staring out at the mess hall, scanning the place, for a couple of minutes now. He hasn’t touched his food.

            “Yeah, fine,” Levi says, and takes a bite of the food.

            Hange, Mike, Marleen, Dirk, and Klaus. That’s it. All the squad leaders. Which really leaves Dirk and Klaus, since he sure as hell isn’t going to fuck Mike.

            Levi sighs.

 

 

           

            “Do you plan on ever marrying, Erwin?” Levi asks him a few days later. He’s never seen Erwin look even remotely interested in another person, romantically or sexually, and Erwin’s earlier questioning has made him wonder.

            “No,” he says, without looking up from the report he’s writing. They’re in Erwin’s office and using the last of the daylight, a candle already lit on his desk. Levi’s having trouble reading from his spot on the armchair.

            Levi already knows that Erwin never plans to retire. Either he’ll die in the line of duty or he will stay Commander until he’s forced from the position. Even if they were able to somehow kill every titan in existence, then Erwin would only continue exploring the outside world, traveling to see it all. 

            “Why not?” Levi says. There are plenty of soldiers who are married. Erwin could certainly have a wife and still remain Commander. Nile has a wife and even a couple of brats too. Levi thinks that Erwin would like children.

            “I have no desire to take a wife,” Erwin says.

            Once again, he doesn’t look up, doesn’t pause at all. He says it cleanly, very cleanly – the words are practiced and carefully chosen. Levi’s eyes narrow, watching him. “So you like dick then?” Levi says.

            Erwin’s pen makes a sharp scratch on the paper and his head snaps up, eyes wide. There’s a comical mix of shock on his face.

            “It might be the only good thing about the underground,” Levi says, “you’re so much more uptight about all that up here.”

            “It’s illegal for a man to marry a man everywhere, including underground,” Erwin says, quickly and without pause, like it’s the first thing he can think to say.

            So you do then, Levi thinks. “Sure, but you can sure as hell fuck one down there,” Levi says.

            Erwin blinks at him. “That’s illegal,” he says.

            “Do you honestly think that that is the crime that police are most worried about in the underground?” Levi says.

            Erwin blinks again. “No,” he says. He pauses. “It’s really that common down there?”

            “Common would probably be overstating it,” Levi says. It was still somewhat taboo, sure, but there were people who were openly gay. You’d get arrested if you were openly gay above ground (or at least heavily fined). It was something that Levi hadn’t realized at first, and it was a good thing that he and Furlan had caught on pretty quick, or their whole little adventure above ground could have ended very differently.

            (Then again, maybe Furlan would still be alive then.)

            “Are people… people admit it then there? There are people who will openly admit to having had sex with someone of the same gender?” Erwin says.

            “Tch,” Levi says. The way Erwin talks about it annoys him. “Gay,” he says, “people will openly admit that they are gay. Or bisexual, sometimes.”

            “What does that mean?” Erwin says.

            Levi frowns at him now. He’s surprised – he’d not really heard anyone ever talk about someone being bisexual above ground, but he hadn’t realized that people weren’t familiar with the term at all.

            “Liking both genders,” Levi says, “someone who likes both men and women.”

            “Oh,” Erwin says, eyes going distant for a moment and Levi can practically hear Erwin turning it over in his head. “There are people who like both? Did you know one?”

            “Yes,” Levi says flatly. Furlan, for one. Levi’s disliking more and more the way Erwin talks about people who aren’t heterosexual.

            “I did not know there were people like that,” Erwin says.

            “Clearly,” Levi says flatly.

            Erwin looks at him then, and Levi looks back. Levi realizes then that his flat tone and clearly growing irritation has given him away. Erwin isn’t stupid – in fact he is probably one of the keenest and most perceptive people Levi has ever met, especially when it comes to understanding people’s psyches (and manipulating them).

            Levi just looks back at him though. Well, I guess that’s that, he thinks. He knows Erwin won’t tell anyone, and anyway Levi would bet a month’s wages that Erwin is gay himself.

            “Hm,” Erwin says, and then he looks back down at his report and continues writing. “And you, Levi, have you ever thought about marrying?”

            There's a lilt to his voice – the shitty old man is playing with him, Levi can tell. “I have no desire to take a wife,” Levi says dryly back to him, the mocking tone clearly present.

            Erwin glances up at him and there’s a barely there smile on his face, glinting in his eyes. Levi raises an eyebrow and Erwin looks back down, smile still on his face.

 

 

 

               (Erwin is curious. He’s just merely curious, when he pulls out the annals on military regulation two days after his and Levi’s conversation about marriage. He’s in his office alone and it’s nearing dark, a candle waiting to be lit sitting next to him. He flips to the section on fraternization and skims through it. It’s somewhat vague, actually.

            Erwin puts down the bound papers and closes his eyes, tilting his head back. It doesn’t quite matter one way or another if it’s considered fraternization. It’s not the biggest rule that would be broken. He puts the records back on the shelf of his bookcase where they normally sit.

            Curious, he was just merely curious.)

 

 

 

            It is not even a week after their conversation (and Levi will find this hilariously ironic later) that Levi is going to get cleaning supplies and runs into two young men having sex in the storage closet.

            “Are you fucking serious?” Levi says, near yelling, and he is livid. He has his hands on his hips, a vein pulsing in his forehead.

            One of them squeaks and the other falls over a bucket. They both grab at their clothes and pull on pants and shirts as quickly as they can get the material over their bodies. Levi waits impatiently while they collect themselves, blocking the exit. When they finally face him they’re both trembling and completely red faced, eyes on the floor, shoulders hunched. One of them starts to cry, and Levi actually begins to feel a little bad for them.

            Still, he taps his foot. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing?” Levi says. The boy who’s not crying flinches, ducking lower. “You’re having sex practically on top of the mops and the soap is literally right fucking there.”

            Levi points at the bars of soap on a shelf at waist height right next to the two boys. Their eyes follow his finger with incomprehension.

            Levi huffs. “How the fuck are we supposed to get anything clean if the cleaning supplies are all fucking filthy from you two fucking on top of them?”

            They both stare at him.

            “Oi, I asked you a fucking question!” Levi says, and he stomps his foot with it.

            “I – I don’t know, sir, Captain, I’m sorry, sir,” the first boy (the one who’s not crying – crying boy looks like he’s actually gone into shock) says.

            “That’s not fucking good enough,” Levi snaps. “Wash your damn hands and then I want every item in this closet cleaned – the place had better be fucking spotless when I come back, do you understand?”

            “Y-yes, sir,” the boy says.

            “Stop crying,” Levi snaps. He can’t stand it, is so irritated at the whole thing. The boy’s eyes widen at him, going pale. “I don’t give a shit that you were fucking, I give a shit that you were about to get cum all over the damn soap.”

            The boy can’t say anything, just nods jerkily at him.

            Levi huffs. “And if I ever find either of you getting off anywhere near my cleaning supplies ever again, I will skin you alive,” Levi says. And then he turns on his heel and slams the door behind him.

            (A rumor starts up that Captain Levi found two recruits having sex in the cleaning storage closet and had them whipped. Another rumor states that the recruits have already gone missing. Apparently Levi had been a bit too loud when he was yelling at the brats and someone else had heard. None of the rumors indicate that it was two boys, not a boy and a girl. The two recruits avoid eye contact with him, but Levi catches one of them looking at him in the mess hall.)

(Later, when he tells Hange and Erwin the story while drunk, Erwin shakes his head and admonishes him for being “unnecessarily cruel.” Hange falls out of her chair laughing.)

 

Notes:

“I don’t give a shit that you were fucking, I give a shit that you were about to get cum all over the damn soap" may just be one of my favorite lines of dialogue that I have ever written in a fanfic, so I hope you all enjoyed that as well.

Chapter 9: Sharp

Summary:

It takes him a while to get there, but Levi has a bit of an epiphany about his and Erwin's relationship.

(Meetings at Sina, a tea house, drugs, Mike, flashbacks, sad stuff about Furlan and Isabel, not-guilt, a vague reference to my story Levi the Tea Thief, and trust.)

Notes:

This one took me a while again, mostly because I kept writing shit for the next two chapters and then fiddling with this and then writing for the next few chapters and then fiddling and on and on - I think it's only been like a week since my last update but it feels like forever with how I kept going back and forth. Anyway, let me know what you think!

 

 

            The first time that Levi actually goes to Erwin before hurting himself, he is almost twenty-four years old, almost four years after the fall of wall Maria, five years after Erwin first found out about the cleaning and the cuts and the frantic self-destruction. Erwin is thirty-two.

            They go to a meeting in the interior with the nobles as well as Pyxis, Nile Dok, and General Zackly. It’s not the first time Levi has accompanied Erwin to one of these meeting but it’s a relatively new thing. Erwin always drags him along to anything the press will see because Levi is somewhat of a celebrity with the people (which annoys him to no end), but his presence at closed meetings is newer. Levi became a team leader very quickly because of both his skill and his ability to make quick, calculated decisions, and was made captain once it was clear that he was also a relatively good leader. It was one step below squad leader, but there were few people designated captains and it was more a technicality than anything – if Levi were to be a true squad leader he’d have many more people under him, and he did better with a smaller group.

            The fact of the matter was that Erwin did not have a lot of advisers that were even relatively diplomatic. Mike was simply very odd, Hange was, while brilliant, insane, and Levi spoke with an utter and complete lack of respect to pretty much everyone he came in contact with.

            It was a very difficult balancing act trying to figure out which of these three personalities was most needed at any given meeting. While Levi hadn’t exactly become any less biting as he got older, he had learned to be more strategic with his remarks. Erwin no longer got nervous about bringing Levi to meetings where tact was needed – Levi had learned how to be the counterpoint that Erwin needed him to be.

            Levi still hated going. It was a necessary role though, and he knew that. The Survey Corps needed money to function. Money and supplies and support. The nobles and the military police had been trying to eradicate the Survey Corps for at least the past decade, and it was a battle that they all knew well.

            “If humanity is to survive, we must take back Wall Maria,” Erwin says. “There is no other way. We are still struggling with food shortages and overpopulation. This is not a diseased limb we can simply cut off, it’s a vital organ and we will die without it.”

            “Erwin, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic,” Nile, the Commander of the Military Police, says.

            “Erwin, have you made any progress at all in the endeavor to take back Wall Maria?” General Zackly says.

            “We’ve established a supply line almost all the way to Shiganshina. Once it’s completed we can look at a way to repair the damage to the wall which has let in the Titans.”

            “And how exactly are you going to do that?” Nile says.

            “We’ll need to establish a line of defense at the gate, to stop any incoming Titans, so we’ll install cannons there, and then we can start construction. Once we have a working base, probably on top of the wall, we can bring civilians across to work.”

            “You’re going to force civilians to travel through Titan infested land in an attempt to build a massive wall which no one has ever attempted before since its creation?” one of the nobles says.

            Erwin opens his mouth but Levi is already speaking. “Are your memories so shitty that you’ve already forgotten about the quarter million refugees who you forced to go through Titan infested land?” Levi says. “Were those not also citizens?”

            “They were citizens of wall Maria though, that was their home,” the noble says, “they were refugees.”

            “Of course, I understand,” Levi says, “refugee lives are obviously much less important than the lives of citizens of Rosa and Sina, so it was perfectly reasonable to send them out on a fake mission, with no practical plan, in order to create an acceptable method of slaughter, whereas here, where we actually have a workable goal and a plan to make it happen, it is not worth the risk to the lives of a handful of construction workers.”

            “What Levi is saying is that compared to the sacrifices we have already made, this would be a much smaller risk,” Erwin says. “And if we never retake the wall, then what were their sacrifices worth?”

            “No,” Levi says, arms crossed, not looking at Erwin, but out at the other men and women in the room. “What I was saying is that you all are pigs and bastards who should be made to eat your own shit if you’re going to keep spewing it out.”

            There’s a chorus of yelling at that and Levi’s face remains expressionless.

            They get their funding, but only barely, to continue to make the supply line. There are no promises to how much or how little funding they will receive to actually rebuild the gate.

            They go back to the rooms they’re staying in within the palace while they’re there, and instead of going to his own, Levi follows Erwin to his. It’s the middle of the day and Erwin is contemplating going out into the city until evening.

            “Are you going to the bath houses today?” Erwin says. Sina has several bath houses around the city, indoor spaces with large pools, heated from underneath. They all sell about a hundred different types of soap and Levi usually spends every free minute there when they’re in the city. Erwin suspects that it is the sole reason that Levi actually agrees to come on these trips.

            “No,” Levi says.

            Erwin turns around. He’s surprised. Levi looks tired. He stares back at Erwin with a blank, drooping expression.

            “Is something wrong?” Erwin asks.

            “Do you really believe we can build back the gate?” Levi says.

            That is not an answer, Erwin thinks, but he just narrows his eyes. “It’s not a matter of what I believe,” Erwin says. “It’s what we have to do.”

            Levi is quiet for a moment. “What does Hange think?” he says.

            “Hange’s specialty is hardly architecture,” Erwin says. Levi keeps looking at him. Erwin sighs. “She’s looking into ways we could keep the Titans away from the gate while building.”

            “It would take months,” Levi says. “It could take years.”

            “It is the only plan we have,” Erwin says.

            “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” Levi says.

            “I was thinking of going to the market,” Erwin says, “that is, if Pyxis doesn’t corner me and Zackly doesn’t catch me before I leave.”

            “Hm,” Levi says.

            “And you?”

            “How strange do you think it would be if I went to the baths with cuts up my legs?” Levi says, not looking at him, eyes distant. “I suppose I could tell them that the Titans did it – that they have claws like a bird’s or a mountain lion – they’d probably believe me.” Levi sighs. “No, I suppose I can’t really do that.”

            Erwin frowns. “You’ve hurt yourself?” he says. He hadn’t noticed Levi looking off, but then again Erwin doesn’t normally notice until afterwards.

            He pays attention now. Suddenly can see the very subtle tension in Levi’s jaw, the way he moves more than normal, like every action is accompanied by several other very small actions.

            “No,” Levi says. He pauses. “I haven’t yet.” He looks down, and then back up at him. “Would you come with me to a tea house before you go to the market?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says, surprised. “Of course.”

 

 

            Levi and Erwin go to the tea shop, and Levi looks at the carefully written menu and frowns. It’s handwritten in an overly ornate script. He still has trouble with handwritten notes rather than print sometimes, as if his brain simply refuses to absorb the different versions of the letters it has finally learned. Levi has to stare down at it, and he quickly grows frustrated, and he hates that he can’t read it. He had never felt self-conscious about his general illiteracy until after he’d learned to read (at least, learned to read beyond individual letters and painstakingly sounding out every word). He no longer has any difficulty with printed forms and books and he can read Erwin’s horrible scrawl and Moblit’s careful letters and Mike’s giant ass handwriting, but that was only because he had to read theirs quite frequently.

            He cannot for the life of him make out the stupid fucking words on the menu.

            “I can’t read this,” he finally says, turning to Erwin, giving up. He drums his fingers against the little table where they’re sitting. There are a few sets of women in the tea shop and one older couple, and several of them are glancing over at them. They’ve probably recognized them, but even if they hadn’t the uniforms would attract enough attention inside wall Sina by itself.

            It’s making his already itching skin crawl even more. He’s so frustrated, and he wants to cut himself, but he wants to go to the baths at some point on this trip and he can’t do that if he hurts himself.

            Erwin starts reading out loud, without looking up or pausing. He reads off the different tea blends and then goes to the pastries and cakes. It’s all ridiculously expensive but Levi doesn’t spend his money on much. Levi gets a rare ear grey tea blend, which Erwin raises an eyebrow at, because Levi almost always gets black tea, and then Erwin orders something that he knows he’s had before.

            Levi doesn’t cut himself that day. He thinks about it. He really, really thinks about it, and it’s been a long time since he’s exerted this much self-control over something as small as cutting. He knows the cuts freak Erwin out and his expression always takes on that haunted, helpless look when he sees them, but Levi doesn’t really know what the big deal is, as long as it’s not the deep ones that need stitches. Yes, it’s a little disturbing, but it’s not doing any lasting damage, not doing any damage at all really.

            But he really wants to go to the baths and he can’t do that if there’s lines all up and down his skin and if he goes to the baths now he knows he’ll wind up scrubbing himself raw to the point of blood, so he goes and gets tea with Erwin and then trails after him to the market and then at night he stays out in the city and wanders until two in the morning when the urge has subsided enough.

 

 

            Erwin finds out what had Levi so keyed up and wanting to hurt himself for the next morning. He meets Hange, Moblit, and Levi for breakfast, and Levi has a dark, tense look on his face. Hange is just a bit too effusive, and if Erwin didn’t know her as well as he did then he would think she was just being her normal insane self, but he can catch the slight differences now, how she’s crowding just a bit too close to Levi, how she’s filling the silence in a way that’s subtly purposeful.

            “Did you need any help today with the meeting with Nile, Commander?” Moblit says.

            Erwin is a little surprised. “No, thank you, Moblit, but it shouldn’t be a long meeting this time. Anyway, Hange doesn’t have you running around with any experiments today?”

            Moblit freezes, and then looks at Hange. She takes in a breath but Levi speaks first.

            “We’re going to the hospital,” he says.

            Erwin is surprised. He looks from Levi to Hange. Hange gives him a small nod and a bit of a grimace. Levi stares at his food.

            “Are you going to see a doctor for your back again?” Erwin asks, because it’s the only thing he can think of. He’s very surprised neither Levi nor Hange have mentioned this before.

            “No,” Levi says, just a little too clipped. “I’m going to buy some of their painkiller.”

            “Oh,” Erwin says, still surprised but this makes more sense. “Did you – how much are you going to get?”

            There’s the unspoken question there – how much can you afford? How much are you willing to spend?

            “I don’t know,” Levi says. Erwin had gotten Levi’s bill from the hospital the last time. The Survey Corps had paid for Levi’s visit with the doctor, and so the painkiller that she gave him, since it was a medical appointment for an injury gotten in the line of duty, but Erwin remembers how high the bill was.

            “Levi only needs a quarter dose,” Hange jumps in. “So they’ll last much longer than they normally would.”

            So one vial would mean four attacks of pain that Levi could have some relief for, Erwin thinks. He nods.

            “Do you know how much it will cost?” Erwin asks. He is already reaching for his wallet, decision made in a second.

            “A shit ton,” Levi says.

            Erwin knows Levi makes fair wages as captain, and he knows Levi doesn’t indulge in very much, but if the hospital bill is anything to go by, it could cost him months worth of wages.

            “Let me pay for half,” Erwin says. He pulls out two crisp bills. He doesn’t have that much on him. “When are you leaving? I can get the rest from my room before you leave.”

            “Absolutely not,” Levi says. He looks at Erwin with a dead stare.

            “I already tried too,” Hange says. “He won’t budge.”

            “It’s my medical costs, neither of you should be paying for it,” Levi says. “The Scouts reserves are one thing, your money is completely different. I have enough.”

            Erwin knows there’s no money left in the Survey Corps’ budget. He knows that even if there was they wouldn’t be able to give the painkiller to Levi. Not unless he needs surgery or an invasive procedure – something he has to be still for.

            Erwin argues with Levi over it for the rest of the meal, but Levi won’t accept Erwin’s offer.

            Erwin waits in the parlor of the inn they’re staying at for Levi and Hange to return. He hadn’t tried to convince Levi to let him go with him this time. It still feels horribly like the last time they were there. Levi can obviously feel it too. He’d been tense the entire morning before he and Hange left.

            When Levi gets back his expression is unreadable. “Two vials,” Levi says, before Erwin can ask. The bouts of pain occur once or twice a month. It will last him a while, but not a full year.

            Erwin resolves that the next time they’re in Sina, he’s going to buy Levi the painkiller anyway. Erwin feels a little guilty about this. If he’s really going to spend his own money on medical supplies, there are many other soldiers who could use it too. They’re always low on painkiller.

            But Erwin looks at Levi and sees that he’s just a little bit more relaxed, and he can’t help it. It’s his wages, and if he wants to spend it on his captain then he very well can. He doesn’t know if Levi’s purse can withstand two blows like that a year, and Erwin doubts Levi would tell him if it couldn’t, and so Erwin resolves that next time he won’t ask. He’ll just go buy it himself.

 

 

 

 

            “How is your squad doing, Levi?” Erwin says as he approaches where Levi is watching a training exercise a couple weeks after they get back from Sina. This one is less about titan killing and more about dexterity. Unsurprisingly, Petra is doing remarkably well, whereas Oluo is seriously struggling.

            “Oluo is too easily frustrated,” Levi says. “He thinks he’s hot shit because he has a lot of solo kills, and arrogance like that will get you killed.”

            “So you’re forcing him to do exactly what he’s bad at?” Erwin says.

            “Mm,” Levi says, “they need practice with this anyway.”

            “Petra seems to be doing well,” Erwin says.

            “She always does, with things like this – Eld and Gunther are both in the middle, but I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes and I cannot figure out what the fuck the twins are doing.”

            “Is that not normally your reaction to what the twins are doing?”

            “It’s like watching a ping pong match,” Levi says. “A ping pong match where they’ve made up all their own rules.”

            “Hm, reminds me of you – I still remember the look on Flagon’s face the first time you used a reverse grip.”

            Levi remembers too – he’d felt a smug satisfaction at the time. Thinking about his training now just makes him think of Furlan and Isabel.

            “Dorcia is a genius and Artur has perfect instincts,” Levi says, switching back to them, “she leads and he compliments, but so closely that you almost can’t tell she’s the one leading.”

            “And how’s Eld taking to second in command?” Erwin says.

            “He’s a better leader than I am,” Levi says.

            “That’s not true,” Erwin says.

            Levi doesn’t try to argue. If Eld hadn’t been put under Levi in the new Special Operations squad, Eld would have been promoted to team leader. Eld doesn’t seem bothered by it, but Levi knows he’s perfectly capable of taking on his own team.

            Levi calls off the training exercise shortly afterwards and walks back with Erwin towards the mess hall. They pass by Mike on the way and Erwin and he exchange nods. Levi’s face deepens from his normal impassive glower to mildly pissed off – there is only a slight distinction between the two.

            “Why do you still hate Mike?” Erwin asks. Mike is one of Erwin’s longest friends, but he and Levi do not get along at all.

            “He shoved my face into sewer water if you do recall,” Levi says.

            “You tried to murder me.”

            “I planned to murder you. I never really tried.”

            “Still, it was almost eight years ago, Levi.”

            “Erwin, I got sewage water in my mouth. Can you think about that for a second?”

            Erwin stops walking. Levi turns to him, one eyebrow raised. A look of horror goes over Erwin’s face.

            “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. “If I had known –”

            “If you had known you still would have had him do it – you didn’t know me.”

            “I’m still sorry, Levi.”

            Levi sighs. “I don’t blame either one of you anymore, it’s just hard to get over it. And Mike’s an asshole anyway.”

            “Can I ask you about it?”

            “You are asking me about it.”

            “Do you want to talk about it? I hadn’t thought about that in years, I hadn’t realized what we put you through.”

            “Not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” Levi says. Not the worst thing you’ve done to me. He doesn’t say it. He’s not angry about it, and he doesn’t need Erwin feeling guilty about things he hadn’t known would bother Levi to the extent that it did.

            They’ve broken off from the group, headed the long way around, past the officer’s building. There’s no one in earshot and Levi’s not sure which one of them steered them both that way.

            “You let us go back for our clothes and things,” Levi says. He's not really sure what's possessing him to talk about it now, just that Erwin's unwittingly dragged up the memory and Levi finds that the usual tension isn't flooding up as much as it is sifting underneath, and Erwin is there and asking and Levi starts talking. “Do you remember? And I was taking way too long in the bathroom so Furlan said he’d go check on me. Isabel stayed with you guys so you knew we weren’t about to try to escape.”

 

            Levi had been kneeling over a bucket hyperventilating. He’d barely managed to keep it together until that point. He’d washed his face to the point where his lips were starting to bleed and he’d brushed his teeth ten times and gargled soap water but he could still taste it.

            He’d heard Furlan come in and hadn’t turned around. He knew Furlan would come after him, knew Isabel would want to too and Furlan would have told her to stay there because it was suspicious for all of them to be in there and Levi did not want Survey Corps of all people to see him like this.

            Furlan kneeled next to him and put a hand against his back, started rubbing circles. Levi gasped.

            “I’m gonna throw up,” Levi said.

            “No you’re not, you’re fine,” Furlan said. “You didn’t swallow it, Levi, it’s not inside of you – you’ve already washed it all out. You’re clean.”

            Levi shook his head. “There could be some that got swallowed. There could be some that ran down my throat.”

            “Would it make you feel better to throw up?” Furlan said.

            Levi shook his head, started tearing at his arms with his fingernails out of habit.

            Furlan took his wrists and gently pulled them apart. Levi’s hands shook. “Then why don’t you drink some water?” Furlan said. “If there’s any tiny bit of it that you managed to swallow then drinking water will dilute it to nothing.”

            Levi took the water skin when Furlan handed it to him but he still looked queasy and pale.

            “You’re fine,” Furlan said, rubbing his back. “Think of all the ways you can repay that bastard once we’re there.”

            Normally Levi was quick to anger but this time he just stayed pale and panicked looking.

            “What if I get sick from it?” Levi said. His voice had gone tight.

            “You’re not gonna get sick, you’re gonna be fine. Even if you did get sick, the best hospitals are up there – they didn’t come all this way just to let you die of disease, Levi – you’d get treatment.”

            That night, after they’d stopped for the night on the way out to wall Maria, Levi had drank soap water, even though he knew it would hurt him, and then Furlan and Isabel had spent the whole night next to him as he fought off nausea and his stomach cramped painfully. Furlan kept calling him an idiot and Isabel had gone quiet like she only did when she was afraid.

 

            Levi tells him bits and pieces. He’d wanted to throw up but was terrified of throwing up. He drank soap water and it made him sick. He hadn’t cut himself but only because there was zero time away from Furlan for the next two days as they were traveling, and Furlan would take the knife right out of his hands if he tried.

            He knew it was stupid to still be angry at Mike. If anything he should really be angry at Erwin – Erwin had essentially told Mike to do it. But while it was certainly harsh, it wasn’t anything that Levi wouldn’t do himself in a similar situation. It isn’t that Levi rationally still blames him – it’s that Mike had caused him to suffer in a panic-inducing way, and that pain stuck. Levi just can’t shake the sour taste and tension he feels every time he sees Mike, even after this long. And employing anger is much easier than wallowing in fear.

            “Furlan and Isabel were the only ones who knew,” Levi says. “Before you and Hange.”

            “They helped?” Erwin says.

            “They tried,” Levi says. Furlan was bad with it at first. He didn’t get it, and he’d make jokes, and Levi wouldn’t laugh, and it took Furlan a bit to understand just how serious Levi was. He came back one day while Levi was obsessively scrubbing blood from the floor of their rooms, and his shirt was spotted with blood too, cuts still bleeding, and he hadn’t responded to a word Furlan said. He was fourteen. After that, Furlan was better about it.

            It didn’t really start up until after Kenny left, so that was never a problem. Levi supposes that would not have gone over well. Kenny would have made fun of him for the cleaning – had made fun of him for cleaning and washing much more often then most kids. He’s really not sure what Kenny would have done if he’d found Levi cutting himself. Probably would have gotten upset in his protective, angry way – which would have meant yelling at Levi about what a stupid little shit he was, and then later making not so subtle check ups on him. Levi wonders if Kenny would have beat him for it. Probably if he was drunk enough.

            Levi and Erwin walk back to the mess hall and it hits Levi that he still doesn’t quite trust Erwin and Hange as much as he’d trusted Furlan and Isabel. Maybe that just comes with living together though. Maybe it’s that Erwin is still his commander. At least with Furlan things had always been pretty even. Furlan was two years older than Levi, but Levi had always been stronger, even when they first met, when Levi was only thirteen. Furlan was always the one who organized things – who contacted members of their crew, who made friends with the right people, who kept an ear out for jobs and who made the rounds to informants, who figured out exactly when and where they needed to be – but Levi always led the actual jobs.

            But Levi supposes that’s not really all that different from how Erwin and he are anyway. Erwin plans, Levi fights. Only with them, the power balance shifts in Erwin’s favor. Between Levi and Furlan, Levi was always more the leader.

            As Levi follows Erwin into the mess hall he frowns. It doesn’t sit well with him, suddenly bothers him, that he’s not quite as comfortable with Erwin as he had been with Furlan. It’s a small difference, but it nags at him. He dislikes it, he realizes, but he doesn’t know how to change it.

 

 

            Later, before it’s truly dark out but past dinner, Levi goes to Erwin’s office, where he knows he’ll be. He’s still thinking about earlier that day, telling Erwin about the sewer water and Furlan and Isabel. It’s still gnawing at something in his stomach and he can’t tell why.

            Erwin’s not in his usual spot at his desk when Levi enters. He’s standing by the windows instead. He has them open, and Levi can hear recruits talking loudly and birds making their last calls.

            “When Anna put you in the cells back when you first got here, that was bad too, wasn’t it?” Erwin says.

            Levi blinks. He’s barely gotten in the door. He sighs though, and makes his way over to the large red sofa chair – this one is larger than the one in Erwin’s room, an almost identical color though – and sits down. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

            “Yes,” he says. Erwin nods, and there’s an almost unreadable, dark look on his face. “You’ve been worrying over this since dinner, haven’t you?” Levi says.

            Erwin shrugs, and Levi knows he has.

 

            It was in the couple months after Furlan and Isabel died – Levi can’t even remember now what he did, he’d done so much stupid shit in his first six months of joining the Scouts. Was it a fight? Just backtalking? Had he refused to obey an order?

            He doesn’t remember, just remembers the woman, Anna’s angry red face and two other soldiers grabbing him by the arms. A long lecture on how she was finally fed up and would not take this behavior any longer. Levi had scoffed, said something derisive back. He’d kept scoffing right up until they brought him down into the cellar below the main building and he saw five cells along the hallway.

            They’d never really found an effective punishment for him. Levi loved to clean, and cleaning of some kind was the normal punishment for recruits. Physical exercise was the other, but Levi could run all day if he was told to. It was boring, but it wasn’t particularly punishing. They’d revoked his access to ODM gear and didn’t allow him to train with it, since he clearly enjoyed it much more than their normal drills, but that only worked for so long. He did have to train with it at some point, and it was more annoying than anything. Anna was one of his commanding officers and she had definitely run through the entire list of them.

            There were only two things really left. They could whip him, or they could lock him in a cell for a couple of days. Levi had not been aware that the latter was an option.

            His entire body went cold the moment he realized what was happening. He refused to show the growing panic. He’d sneered something else and she had locked him in there and informed him that it would be two days, and he’d only get bread and water. And then they left him there.

            There was a cot. A cot and a chamber pot that already smelled of piss. That was the only thing in the cell. There was a tiny bit of sunlight coming in from a barred window at the top of the cell, and then the barred walls and door.

            Levi waited until Anna and the two other soldiers were gone, and then he put his hands in his hair and took a couple of long, rasping breaths.

            This is fine, he told himself. This is fine, they didn’t even search me, I have my lockpicks, this is fine.

            He took long, deep breaths to calm himself, eyes closed, and when he opened them he began to slowly, apprehensively catalogue the space.

            The ground was covered in dirt, there was water dripping from a section of the ceiling, there was definitely mold by the window, Levi didn’t want to even touch the cot, didn’t want to even try to identify the stains on it, and the whole corner where the chamber pot was smelled so strongly that he stood in the opposite corner of the cell. There was dust on everything. Even the bars of the cell felt sticky under his fingers.

            It’s fine, he told himself again. It’s fine, I’ll wait until after dinner, in case they bring water then, and then I’ll break out. It’s fine.

            It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

            He took off his cravat and tied it around his face instead, over his mouth and nose to try to limit how much mold he breathed in. He stayed as close to the door as possible. There was mold on the window and he was sweating, trying not to think about it, trying desperately not to think about the fact that he was breathing in that shit, that he was still only maybe twelve feet away from it, how there could be more mold crawling along the floors and the ceiling and he didn’t want to look to check.

            He took shallow breaths. He started counting them. He stood near the door and didn’t touch anything. He didn’t lean on the bars. He sure as hell didn’t sit on the floor.

            So he stood there. He felt sweat drip down his back and he tried not to breathe too deeply because of the mold and he counted because he felt like if he didn’t stay focused he’d completely lose it. He thought about how he could sneak outside and take a shower, how there would be no one there around midnight, how maybe he could even sneak inside and get a clean uniform, how he’d spend the night outside. It was summer, warm enough to just sleep in the grass or by the trees.

            He tried not to think about how he’d have to go back to the cell before morning, so they’d find him there. He tried not to think about staying there all day tomorrow. He tried not to think about how if they caught him they’d search him, take his lockpicks and his knives, and then probably give him a guard too. And then he’d have no choice. He’d be trapped in there.

            Levi couldn’t breathe.

            He always carried at least one knife on him and his set of lock picks. That day he had two knives – a long one in his boot and his switchblade. He knew he couldn’t really leave yet, couldn’t leave because it wasn’t dark yet and he could get found out, but he couldn’t stand it and he pulled out the lock picks and jammed his right arm through the bars to try to get an angle on the lock.

            He couldn’t reach. The angle wasn’t right, and even if his arms had been longer, it was very unlikely he would have been able to work the lock open. Levi struggled anyway, tools in hand, but he couldn’t get both his hands over at the same time and he was good at picking locks but not that good. He’d gotten out of practice, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it even if he wasn’t.

            He struggled for maybe fifteen minutes, his heartrate going up, sweat going down his back, head getting dizzier and dizzier as the panic, the realization that he was not going to be able to get out of there mounted, until he finally threw the tools down at the ground and grasped at his hair.

            Fuck, fuck, fuck, Levi thought. He threw a punch. Felt his knuckles split against the rock wall. He tried to breathe, but there was still fucking mold so he didn’t want to breathe either.

            He started spiraling. He could feel it as his head went dizzy and his breath caught and no, no, no, not now.

            He dropped to one knee and pulled out a knife because no, shit, no, I can’t fucking breathe, and he could feel it, he could feel the mold in his lungs, clogging his lungs, and he could feel the grime on his fingers, feel it against his knuckles, going to infect it there, and he couldn’t do shit, trapped.

            He cut six or seven times before he even realized what he’d done. They were deep. He didn’t stop. He cut all up both of his arms.

            He cut until there was so much blood that it was forming a small puddle beneath him. He was kneeling on the ground and his pants were stained red, his shirt absolutely ruined, jacket spotted where he’d torn it off and thrown it to the side.

            He’d stopped cutting and was just staring down at the still oozing wounds and the slowly widening puddle of blood, watching his blood spread millimeter by millimeter across the disgusting floor around him.

            He was kneeling, staring down at the blood like that when Anna walked in.

            Levi remembered hearing and not hearing. Remembered the door opening. Remembered the knife pulled from his hand, remembered a hand under his arm and being led to medical.

            The nurse Anna brought him to looked at him like he was crazy but he stitched the cuts that need stitches and wrapped them all up afterwards. Levi went back to the barracks for the rest of the day, and then back outside for training the day after.

            Anna stopped him as soon as he got there. “Not until the stitches come out.”

            Levi looked at her, but then he just nodded. He went to leave but she stopped him again.

            “I won’t do it again,” she said. “Could mean you get whipped instead if you keep pulling this shit, but I won’t send you there again.”

 

            It is the last she says about it, and she has since either retired or been killed, because Levi hasn’t seen her around in years.

            Levi gives pieces again. There was mold. He’d felt trapped. Lockpicks wouldn’t reach. Nothing to clean the space with. And then he’d started cutting himself. He’d cut himself a lot.

            “Did she tell you about it?” Levi says. “That all it took was four hours in a cell and there was enough blood it had to be mopped up?”

            “No,” Erwin says. “I heard you’d been put into one of the cells, and when I asked Anna about it a couple days later she just said it hadn’t been effective. I didn’t know you’d hurt yourself.”

            “I don’t know why she didn’t say anything,” Levi says. “She could have had me tossed out for mental instability or some shit right then.”

            “Maybe she knew it was just the filth,” Erwin says.

            Levi scoffs. “Do you know how few people have picked up on that? Took you forever to figure it out and I was sitting right there and telling you about it.”

            Erwin shrugs. “I don’t remember her well,” he says, “but she was intelligent. You have a reputation for wanting things clean, she throws you in an incredibly filthy cell. And she comes down to see you all torn open.” He looks at Levi. “It’s not a terribly hard assumption.” When Levi still looks doubtful Erwin shrugs. “Maybe she felt guilty. Maybe she just knew how good a fighter you were and wasn't willing to lose you.”

            Levi thinks back. It wasn’t guilt on her face. It was more like she was fixing a miscalculation. She hadn’t realized he’d go batshit crazy if left in a cell. Now she knew, so she wouldn’t leave him in a cell again.

            “I’m so sorry,” Erwin says. His eyes are dark.

            “Not your fault,” Levi says. “I was a fucking brat.”

            “You didn’t deserve that,” Erwin says.

            No, I didn’t, Levi thinks. At least not for whatever the hell they were trying to punish me for.

            Erwin stands looking at the floor for a moment. “What else have we done?” he asks.

            Levi almost wants to roll his eyes but there’s too much grim soberness to Erwin’s expression and his voice. “You didn’t know, Erwin,” Levi says. “So stop feeling guilty over something not in your control.”

            “I don’t feel guilty,” Erwin says, and Levi raises an eyebrow. “I’m just sorry you had to go through that. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.”

            Levi looks at him. Erwin looks back.

            “Lineup,” Levi says. “After the thirty sixth expedition.” Erwin just looks confused. “I don’t do well with decaying bodies,” Levi says.

            Realization floods Erwin’s features. They’d taken heavy losses on their first day outside the walls, and then run into several problems getting back, and wound up outside the walls longer than normal. Bodies from the first wave of attack would have already started to decay by the time they finally reached the wall again, and if Levi had been on the team lining up the bodies for identification –

            Yes, Erwin can see how that would not go well for him.

            Levi had been eighteen, before Erwin found out about the cleaning and the hurting himself. It had taken all his willpower not to vomit and then he’d froze, suddenly seeing his mother’s face, his hands on her skin, trying to wake her, the smell, how she looked less and less like his mother the longer he sat there, against the wall in their room.

            Someone had grabbed him, asked him if he was okay, and he’d nodded dimly and still saw his mother, felt his heart pounding, and the person asked him if he’d hit his head, and he’d nodded. He was brought over to medical where he sat down and they examined him while his head spun with images that wouldn’t leave.

            “The cell was probably the worst,” Levi says. It was the trapped feeling. It still makes him uncomfortable to think about. It unsettles him greatly that all it would take to bring him to his knees is to stick him in dirty place and lock the door.

            Erwin nods, face still dark. “Was there more?”

            Levi thinks. There were plenty of small things but anything big, anything that was really the Survey Corps fault? Levi shrugs.

            Levi looks at Erwin, and thinks again about Furlan and Isabel. This might be the most Levi has ever told Erwin about any previous incidents. He doesn’t usually want to talk about it, tries to avoid the worried, careful prodding. Maybe it’s that Erwin is always analyzing him, that despite considering Furlan family, Erwin knows Levi better than Furlan ever did. And it has nothing to do with how open Levi has been and everything to do with how perceptive Erwin is. Furlan didn’t push. Erwin pushes.

            Maybe that’s why. Maybe it’s because Furlan had been quick wit and easy comfortability, whereas Erwin and Levi’s relationship has always been sharper around the edges – maybe it’s because while Furlan and Isabel were certainly strong, certainly intelligent and skilled, Erwin is the only one Levi has ever met who he considers a real challenge, a worthy adversary.

            An adversary.

            “Levi?” Erwin says. He has a confused, almost guarded expression. Levi has just been looking at him, studying him for several moments.

            “Mm?” Levi says.

            An adversary and yet a close friend. Levi trusts him with his life. He trusts him more than anyone else alive.

            And suddenly Levi realizes he is never going to be as comfortable around Erwin as he was with Furlan. That he’s never going to be as comfortable around Erwin as he is with Hange even. Comfortable will never be a word that describes their relationship, but the realization is not unsettling – comfortable will never describe their relationship because there is far too much that is sharp there. Erwin will always push, and Levi will always push back. They are like two jagged edges – two jagged edges which have broken and grown until they fit seamlessly together, with all their sharp points intact, like fitting shards of glass back together.

            “What’s going on in your head?” Erwin says. It sounds almost suspicious, eyes a little too narrow, but an amused upturn of his lips.

            “It’s been a long while since we’ve sparred,” Levi says.

            Erwin tilts his head. “That’s what you’ve been thinking about?”

            Levi nods. A worthy adversary.

            Yes, he trusts Erwin. It is no deeper nor shallower than how he’d trusted Furlan and Isabel. But it is wholly, completely different. It's not comfortable. It's sharp trust, pointed and poignant, and Levi settles with that thought. He looks at Erwin again. Sees the suspicion and the curiosity and that intrigue, that perceptive glint, like he could figure out every corner of Levi's mind if Levi would let him.

            Sharp. Levi thinks he's alright with that. (He thinks maybe he likes it better that way.)

           

Notes:

So you'll have to let me know if you liked the flashbacks or not - I couldn't really make up my mind about them, wound up shortening the second one considerably.

Anyway, I promise Levi and Erwin are going to get together, though it is taking longer than I expected. We will see major steps forward in the next two chapters! And if I can get my shit together it should take off from there. In the meantime, I hope you are enjoying the developing relationship anyway.

Happy reading!

Chapter 10: Stay

Summary:

Hange is A+ friend. Erwin should clean more. Poor Levi. (Not in that order.)

Notes:

I kept trying to add something in this section in the hopes of moving Levi and Erwin's relationship on a little faster but nothing really worked and I am impatient, so here it is.

As a heads up, this has a sort of almost flashback in the middle of the fic that I probably should have written in past tense but by the time I decided it would occur in the middle of the fic it was already in present tense, and as I mentioned, I am impatient.

 

            Erwin gets back to his room late, having met with a couple of the squad leaders after dinner. He opens the door and then stops, blinking.

            His room is spotless. The floors have been swept and mopped, every surface cleaned, new sheets on his bed, not a speck of dust anywhere, even the metal knobs to his dresser look like they’ve been shined.

            Levi is lying on Erwin’s bed.

            Erwin shuts the door and steps in, turning in a full circle, looking at everything. The door to his private bath is open and Erwin’s sure it’s just as thoroughly cleaned. Levi’s hair looks damp and Erwin wonders if Levi has used it – he has before, so it wouldn’t surprise him. Erwin turns to see Levi sitting up only marginally, still mostly horizontal.

            “I’m staying here tonight,” he says.

            It comes out soft, his tone not matching the words. He doesn’t say it forcefully. He sounds exhausted.

Erwin tries not to look as surprised as he feels. “Okay,” he says. He walks over to the bed. “Is everything okay?”

            Levi looks more tired than usual but Erwin glances at his hands and they’re not bloody.

            “Back hurts,” Levi says. “I’m out of painkiller.”

Levi had bought two vials of painkiller the last time they were inside wall Sina, and it had cost him a good chunk of his wages (Erwin had tried, and quite hard at that, to pay for a portion of it, but Levi wouldn’t let him). The hospitals inside wall Rosa were always low on it if they had any at all, and they wouldn’t sell it. Even in Sina, it was used sparingly. They did not usually sell it to individuals – it was usually only for hospital use. Levi had had to bully a doctor into letting him buy it. He’s gone through it faster than he’d hoped he would. One vial was the standard dose. Levi used a quarter vial when he had bouts of pain, would sometimes administer a second dose if it went on long enough.

            It was only enough to take the edge off, Erwin knew, enough to make it bearable, but it lasted longer that way. It was enough – Erwin had noticed the change. Levi wasn’t as tense or stressed about them anymore.

            Erwin frowns now though. He’s sure Levi’s not in the middle of an attack right now, and anyway, he wouldn’t have been able to clean so much if he had been. So it had happened earlier that day.

            “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. He knows Medical only has a few vials left. They won’t have anything to spare either.

            Levi’s already dressed in sleep clothes and Erwin goes to do the same. When he’s changed and ready to sleep he walks back over. Levi’s moved all the way to the right of the bed, which Erwin takes as a cue that they will be sharing the bed. Erwin’s a little surprised. It’s a large enough bed that there’s certainly room for both of them, but Erwin’s seen Levi sleep in a chair rather than a bed many, many times, and Erwin had assumed he’d do the same now. But then again, if Levi’s back still hurts then he probably doesn’t want to do that.

            “When did it happen?” Erwin asks as he gets into bed. Levi has a candle lit on the table next to him and Erwin has his own as well.

            “Woke up with it,” Levi says.

            His voice is so flat, and his voice is usually flat, impassive as his expression, but this time it’s full of so much exhaustion and dejection.

            “Did you have someone get Hange?” Erwin says, because Levi did not go get him, and usually Levi tries to get one of the two of them to sit with him if they can.

            “Yeah,” Levi says.

            “I’m glad,” Erwin says. “It was a bad one?”

            “Five hours.”

            Erwin looks at him in shock. It’s more than twice as long as they normally are. “Oh God, Levi, I’m so sorry,” Erwin says, turned to look at him. They’re lying side by side, or at least, Levi is lying and Erwin is sitting. Levi’s not looking at him, staring at the ceiling instead.

            “I ran out of painkiller before the last two hours,” Levi says. “It was fucking hell and it still hurts.”

            “Can I get you a hot water bottle for it?” Erwin says. It’s summer and they don’t have any ice, but a hot water bottle usually helps too.

            “No, that’s okay,” Levi says.

            “If I blow out the candle will you sleep?” Erwin says. Levi looks exhausted but he has trouble sleeping on a good day. Erwin doesn’t know how pain will affect that.

            “Probably not,” Levi says.

            “Do you want me to read to you for a bit?” Erwin says.

            Levi pauses, and then he nods. “Yeah.”

            Erwin gets up and goes to his bookshelf. “Anything in particular?”

            “Surprise me.”

            Erwin picks a collection of short stories that he has read many times. While Levi can now read quite well, he still prefers to listen to stories rather than read them himself. He’s never said it to Erwin, but he frequently asks Erwin to read to him when he’s in pain or when he’s having a bad night, bleeding knuckles or little cuts, usually only when Erwin sees and says something about it, but occasionally Levi will come to him.

            When Erwin turns back to the bed to sit down again, Levi is a couple inches closer to the center of the bed. Erwin pauses, looks up, but Levi’s not looking at him. Erwin wonders if he thinks Erwin won’t notice. Either way, Erwin doesn’t say anything about it. When he sits down though he doesn’t stay as close to the edge as he had been either. He lets his arm brush Levi’s shoulder.

            Erwin’s noticed, of course, that while Levi will grumble and complain about Hange playing with his hair and hugging him and generally being very touchy, he doesn’t make any real effort to stop her. Even the complaining seems to be dropping off, half-hearted at best, and he doesn’t even do that if he’s already in pain. It has been pretty clear to Erwin for a while that they are not much more than token complaints, pretending it bothers him rather than admitting that he finds comfort in the touch. He has never asked Erwin (or Hange, as far as Erwin knows) to hold his hand while he’s in pain or rub his back or anything of the like, has not even reached his hand out to be held. He will ask for them to sit with him, will ask Erwin to read to him and for Hange to talk, but that’s it, and Erwin gets the sense that Levi doesn’t like asking for that either.

            Erwin starts to read and wonders if he should say something about it, should tell Levi that he can move closer if he wants to, to ask him if he’d like Erwin to rub his back or shoulder or something. Erwin’s not as touchy as Hange, and it would be weird for him to just reach up and touch his hair the way she does.

            So he reads until his eyes get tired and he finishes one of the stories. He puts the book down on the table next to him.

            “I’m going to sleep now,” Erwin says, turning towards Levi again. “Do you need anything? Would you like some tea first?”

            “No, that’s okay,” Levi says. He reaches over and blows out his candle, then settles a bit more under the blankets. Erwin turns to blow out his own as well. “Thank you,” Levi says.

            Erwin just nods. He blows out the candle and settles down on the bed as well. Levi turns on his side, facing away from Erwin, moving closer to the edge again.

 

 

 

            Levi had woken up that morning in pain.

            Levi’s back hurts. It hurts and it fucking sucks and he’s so tired. He manages to grab an officer outside his room before it fully sets in and barks at her to get Hange. By the time Hange shows up Levi is lying on his side, breathing shallowly through the pain.

He can’t administer the painkiller himself. He supposes he could if he really had to, but he hates even the idea and he’s never tried. He’s not sure why or when needles started bothering him so much. Hange gets there and gives him his quarter dose. The pain retreats to manageable levels and she sits next to him and holds his hand. He doesn’t want to admit how much comfort that brings him.

            It’s a bad one. Even with the painkiller he’s breathing shallowly, dizzy from it. With the painkiller it’s just a hair above better than some of the weaker bouts.

            “Hange,” he says, when it’s been over an hour and a half and the painkiller is starting to wear off. He hates this part. Usually the bouts of pain last about two hours, and so the painkiller starts to wear off and Levi endures for as long as he can because he doesn’t want to use up another dose.

            “Right here, Levi,” she says. She runs a hand through his hair, over his forehead.

            “Keep talking,” he gasps out. The pain is getting worse and he squeezes his eyes closed. Dread settles in his stomach.

            Hange talks. She rambles about titans mostly. His hand in hers tightens to a fist. He grasps at the sheets with his other hand. It builds and it’s so bad and he can’t help when a noise comes up out of his throat, and suddenly he doesn’t care, he just wants the pain to stop. It hasn’t been long at all but this one is worse than normal and he can’t take it.

            “Hange,” he says. She pauses.

            “Levi? What do you need?”

            “I want another dose,” he says. It feels like a confession. There’s spikes of burning pain running up and down his back and he wants Hange to sit with him, wants her to get up on the bed with him. He’d asked for her over Erwin for a reason, and he likes to tell himself that reason is that Erwin is busier, Erwin is the commander, he has more responsibilities, but he knows that’s not true. Levi shuts his eyes tight. “Hange,” he says. His voice is wet and he wants to say everything without saying anything. He doesn’t want to have to say it out loud.

            “I’m grabbing it right now, Levi, just one more second, promise,” she says. A moment later he feels the sharp prick. The plunger going down, a burning sensation, and then the relief flooding in.

            He lets out a long breath. He feels himself sink, and suddenly he’s almost floating, and he starts to cry without realizing it.

            Usually, there’s an almost instant relief from the pain when he gets a dose, and then by about a minute or two later it’s gone down some more. Levi waits for it to go down some more. It hardly does at all.

            “It hurts so bad,” he says, quiet, and he doesn’t really mean Hange to hear it but he’s pretty sure she does. He knows he’s out of it and he doesn’t care, he knows he’s not thinking straight but all he can focus on is that it still hurts and he’s tired and it’s been so long with the pain. “I want more,” he chokes out, and he’s not really asking for more, knows he can’t have more, just can’t help voicing the aching desire.

            “I’m sorry, Levi, that was the last of it,” she says. “It’s alright, it’ll feel better soon.”

            “It hurts,” he says, just loud enough to be heard, and it sounds pathetic, and he knows this and yet he doesn’t care. The medication is blocking the part of his brain that wants him to shut up, the part of his brain that would never say this. He just wants to cry and tell Hange how much it hurts and ask her to sit with him, ask her to play with his hair the way she always insists on doing and to keep a hand in his or on his arm so that he knows she’s there, so that he knows he’s not alone, so that he doesn’t lose himself in this pain – it feels like he could drown in it, drown so easily.

            She gets onto the bed. She moves close to him and he feels his head come up to rest against her hip. She’s maneuvering his head and shoulders and hand. He turns his face to the side. He’s in so much pain. The medication makes his head fuzzy and he hates it and he wants more because he still hurts, and he starts to cry and he hates himself for it and can’t stop anyway. He feels like she’s given him more than usual. At least his head feels that way. His back still hurts – less than it was, less than if he didn’t have the medication, but enough that it’s miserable.

            “Shh, it’s alright,” she says. Her hand is in his hair again. He doesn’t understand why she always touches his hair.

            “I wasn’t saying anything,” he says. It comes out mumbled. He closes his eyes and tries not to focus on the burning sensation traveling up and down his spine. “Hange it – why is it still so bad?” he says. The words come out of his mouth and he barely registers it and certainly doesn’t think them through beforehand. He feels like his body is floating and his mind is drifting and the only things tethering him down is the icy, fiery, pain burning up and down and pulsing in his back and Hange’s hand tight around his, her fingers against his scalp.

            “Because you’ve only had a little bit of medicine,” she says. “It’s okay, Levi, it’ll get better soon.”

            “Don’t – don’t leave,” he says. He’s suddenly afraid Moblit will open the door, will tell her something and she will look at him with that regretful look and tell him she has to go.

            “I won’t leave,” she says. “Promise.”

            Levi lies there, and Hange keeps talking, and he sinks. It feels like he sinks into the bed and he hates the feeling but he knows that without it the pain will burn through him and he knows that will be worse. It keeps going though. It doesn’t get better. It usually is over by two hours. It almost never lasts longer than three. He starts to grow more and more agitated. He keeps telling himself it’ll be over soon. Hange keeps telling him it will be over soon. It reaches a tipping point and the painkiller is just starting to wear off and that scares him.

            “Hange,” he says, and his voice is distinctly afraid now. Suddenly all he is, is afraid. The embarrassment that licks at him like background lighting falls away completely as he realizes all at once that the painkiller is wearing off and it isn’t any better.

            He’s out of painkiller. Hange said he was out of painkiller.

            “It’s still bad,” he says, with distinct fear this time.

            “It’ll get better soon,” she says, and there’s a hint of something there, a hint of something that Levi hears and a sharp streak of pain runs through his lower back, pulses there.

            “There’s no more?” he says.

            “No,” she says, “but it’s been over three hours. It’ll stop soon. It’ll stop any minute now.”

            Levi lies there another ten minutes. The pain builds. He starts to fidget. It was already bad. He’s forgotten how bad it can be. He hasn’t had to experience a full attack in a few months now, since their last trip inside wall Sina. It had been so relieving, when he’d first had one and he could ask for Hange and tell her where the medication was, and it was a sharp prick and suddenly the pain receded. He’s out now. He’s out and his mind is becoming clearer and with it comes such a clearer dread. He’s out of painkiller and it’s not letting up and he wants to beg Hange to get some from medical, but he knows she can’t.

            “It hurts,” he says finally, breaking, one tear, then another, falling down the sides of his face. He breaks out into tremors. The painkiller is nearly all the way gone now. It’s not letting up. It hurts. He wants to sob and his throat tightens instead, holds it back. With the fading painkiller comes the resurgence of his inhibitions and he forms a knot in his throat rather than let the sob come out. Still, it’s awful and he can’t stop the tears. It’s only Hange and he doesn’t have the self-control to stop himself in front of her.

            “It’ll end soon,” she says. “Soon, I promise.”

            He holds onto that. Soon. He wants Erwin. He wants them both there, wants Hange to tangle his hair in her fingers, want’s Erwin’s comforting hand on his shoulder, wants his voice, steady, smooth, reading something – something, it doesn’t really matter what, he won’t be able to concentrate on it anyway. He just wants to hear something, something to fill the room and keep the thudding sound of his blood in his ears, his blood running through his back, from taking over. It’s selfish. Even taking Hange from her job is selfish. Asking for both of them is horribly greedy. He won’t do it. He wants it though.

            “Fuck, fuck, please make it stop,” he says. The words come falling out of his mouth before he can stop them and his vision is spotty now, getting worse, tunneling. His breath stutters and gasps. It hurts so bad, it hurts, he wants more painkiller, he’d do anything for more painkiller, he suddenly doesn’t care that it makes him hazy, he doesn’t care at all, he just wants something, anything to dull it.

            Hange says something that he doesn’t hear. He cries. He doesn’t pass out. He so rarely passes out. And he knows in the back of his mind that it’s not normal, that the way he fights, his skill and his strength – it’s the same thing, his healing, it’s tied in – he heals so much faster than normal people, and it must be part of that – he doesn’t pass out easily. It takes a lot to make him pass out – and he hates that now. He hates that his body keeps him awake and aware. He hurts.

            He doesn’t pass out but he slips from lucid too. He gets somewhere in between. Somewhere where he feels awake but his vision is incredibly blurry, where he barely can register Hange’s words but he knows she’s talking. Somewhere where he cries but won’t let himself sob. The pain builds and then ebbs and then builds again. It goes on for days. It feels like it goes on for days. He only realizes that it hasn’t when it finally starts to fade. It finally starts to fade and it feels like waking up, although Levi knows he’s been awake the whole time.

            Hange knows without Levi saying anything. Her expression changes. He sees it, sees it like being far away. He doesn’t say anything when it starts to really abate, but his breathing evens out and his body relaxes and the hitching sounds of his breath disappear.

            “Better now?” Hange says, when Levi’s fully present again, when he’s almost ready to try to move, but not quite.

            “Yeah,” he says. He takes a deep breath, relishes the feeling of the pain slipping from his body. “How long?” It has felt like days.

            “It’s about eleven now,” she says.

            Levi has to think. Eleven. Hange had gotten there at six, and by six he’d already been in a lot of pain. Over five hours then. It feels difficult to work out the math, far too difficult to work out the simple math.

            “Fuck,” he breathes.

            “Getting better now though?” she says.

            “Yeah,” he says. She keeps touching his hair and holding his hand and he’s afraid for a second that she’ll let go because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does. It hurts, he wants to say, but he doesn’t. It hurts. It always feels like an indulgence, to tell anyone. He wants to say it over and over again and doesn’t know why, wants to let someone hear him. He doesn’t.

            “Tell me when you want tea,” she says.

            Levi doesn’t say anything for a long while. He waits until the pain has ebbed to a manageable ache before even trying to move.

            He’s exhausted. He’s so tired and he knows he won’t sleep. He doesn’t want Hange to leave. He’s terrified, suddenly, that the pain will come back.

            “There’s tea in my drawer,” he says, “you can make a fire.”

            And he hopes she understands. Hopes that she sees his invitation for what it is. He doesn’t want her to leave. He doesn’t want to think about the fact that he doesn’t want her to leave.

            She gets up. He misses her touch and for a second his breath catches before he forces himself to breathe deeply. She’s right there, he’s not alone, not trapped, not about to be sent under from the pain. It sends a bolt of fear through him which is as unexpected as it is concerning.

            “Which one?” she says.

            Levi blinks for a moment. She’s at his drawer, the one he keeps his tea in. He has several tins. Almost all are blends of black tea. “Blue tin,” he says. It’s a mix of chamomile, the only one he has, but he wants something soothing and he wants to sleep and he knows it won’t make him sleep anyway but he wants to feel the smell, wants to taste it anyway.

            He watches Hange start a fire, watches her set the tin aside. Then he closes his eyes again. He feels her hands smooth over his forehead. He lets himself sink, even though the medication has long, long since worn off. She leaves again a bit later. He hears her pour water into a kettle, hears her open the tin. When he finally hears the clinking of cups, the noise of one settling on the dresser next to him, he opens his eyes again.

            He’s so tired. His back still hurts. It feels not fair. He slowly, cautiously lifts himself up, gets upright enough so that when Hange hands him his cup of tea he can hold it. He waits for it to cool enough. Hange doesn’t. She burns her tongue, like she always does, and then curses, and Levi almost smiles. It’s as much as he can manage. He appreciates it so much though, so much that it surprises him.

            He takes a sip once the tea has cooled enough. He can sip very hot tea now. It no longer burns him. He wonders if that’s some part of the odd strength, odd speed of recovery and healing, that he has (he wonders why this healing speed will not heal his back, wonders if he would be paralyzed or disabled if it weren’t for his odd healing speed, odd strength, odd ability) or if it’s just from a lifetime of impatient sipping of just boiled tea.

            He still doesn’t want Hange to go. He doesn’t say this. She stays anyway. She moves to sitting beside him again, in his chair. She blows on her tea. She asks him where the sugar is. He doesn’t have sugar, he prefers his tea black. She gives him a look like he’s just spouted insanity when he says this, like she’s personally offended by the answer.

            She stays with him the whole day. She goes and gets them lunch, and Levi picks at his. His back never stops hurting completely, never stops enough for him to not dread getting out of bed. She talks to him, and then she snoops through his books, pretends to stumble upon one completely accidentally, and then opens it up. She doesn’t read as smoothly as Erwin. Her voice travels up and down, and it fits perfectly for her, and Levi sits and listens. She reads for a while, and then she stops, and she talks for a bit. She throws open his window and then disappears out his door but only long enough to get cards from her own room. She drags over his desk to put it between her and his bed, where he still lies. She more or less forces him to play a few games. She goes and gets them dinner afterwards. He eats little. She finally says she will go, and waits for a half second too long, like she’s giving Levi a moment to object. He doesn’t. She smiles and then goes. He stands up very slowly.

            He still doesn’t want to be alone, he realizes about a minute after Hange has left. He grabs new clothes, and he doesn’t think about it too hard, when he walks to Erwin’s rooms.

 

 

 

            Erwin wakes up when Levi gets out of bed. He does this at maybe three in the morning. It’s still dark. Erwin hears him leave the room and wonders if he should go after him, but he assumes Levi’s just moving back to his room or to go for a walk outside. Erwin knows he does that frequently when he can’t sleep.

            Erwin dozes off again and then wakes when he hears the door creak a second time. Levi has a candle now, and he’s holding a cup of tea too. Erwin closes his eyes and feels Levi sit down in the bed again.

            At five in the morning Levi gets up again and leaves. Erwin sleeps for only another twenty minutes or so before he gets up as well. Levi meets him for breakfast in Erwin’s office like usual. He still looks tired, but he’s not as dejected and quiet as he was the night before.

            “How are you feeling today?” Erwin says.

            “Better,” Levi says.

 

 

Notes:

Thank you to everyone who commented to tell me about the flash backs in the last chapter - also big thank you to everyone who has commented in general, I really do love reading them and very much appreciate the time you took to let me know what you thought of the fic.

Anyway, guys I'm so excited for the next chapter though, it's gonna be awful and I love it - I'm not sure what you guys will think, but I at least find it the most heartbreaking chapter so far in the fic. I never do this but I like the chapter so much so here's a (albeit, tiny) excerpt/teaser for it. (Also I hope you guys know that to get italics into an end note like this you have to code in HTML and while this is very simple I am still very proud of myself for figuring it out.)

 

(“Do you think this war takes pieces from us?”)

Undoubtedly.

“I want to hurt myself,” Levi says, and he’s not sure if it’s true.

Do you think this war takes pieces from us, do you think I can take pieces from myself, do you think I can take pieces from myself and rip them out, cut them out, scrape and wash them away? I think I can. (I think I can’t.)

Chapter 11: Rope

Summary:

It's a bad time.

Notes:

WARNING

So this chapter is a trigger nightmare, particularly for themes around suicide - I've updated the tags a couple of times since I started writing this fic, please read through them again. This one gets bad in what I think is a very different way than other chapters have been bad. That is to say, even if you've been fine with everything so far, please use caution.

I don't usually put individual warnings on chapters like this for things already in the tags but this one gets rough.

(ALSO though, I love this chapter and I'm really excited to see what you guys think of it.)

 

            The Kaminski twins die.

            Levi has had soldiers under his command die before. The twins are the first from his Special Operations squad, but he was captain of a different squad beforehand, a larger one, with recruits as well as seasoned soldiers. The twins are different. Levi’s been with them for over a year, and their squad of seven had become quite close in that time. It’s enough that the grief is sharp for all of them, but that’s not what really bothers Levi.

            What really bothers Levi is that Dorcia died first.

            Levi’s whole squad (the remaining squad) is silent as they go back. As soon as Levi’s horse is stabled and he has deposited his equipment, he goes to Erwin’s rooms. He picks the locks, locks it again behind him, and goes and takes a bath in Erwin’s private bath. He has running hot water there. (So do Hange and Mike, which is a complete waste, Levi has told Erwin several times.) Levi takes a long bath.

            (Dorcia’s expression wasn’t even scared, eyes hard, furious, head tilted back, gaze connecting with Levi’s, don’t you fucking dare, it seemed to say.) (Don’t you dare do what? Levi wants to ask, cannot ask now.)

            Levi gets out of the bath and dresses in clean clothes that he’d brought with him. His feet are bare as he walks through Erwin’s rooms. He finds a sponge and wets it and cleans dust from the windowsills and the top of the bookshelf.

            (It was Artur’s face that was terrified.)

            Erwin gets back while Levi is changing the sheets on his bed. It feels methodical, calming, replacing bedsheets and then pillowcases and then duvet, smoothing it all down so it’s tucked in neatly. Levi registers that Erwin takes his boots off at the door. He doesn’t register much more than that.

            “I heard about the twins,” Erwin says.

            You didn’t, Levi thinks. Something tips dangerously in his mind, and he moves to Erwin’s desk. He removes the articles on top of it and wipes down the surface. It feels sturdy, solid, safe.

            Erwin waits. Levi finishes cleaning Erwin’s desk. He looks for something else to clean. He could mop the floors, but he doesn’t have a mop. He’d have to go down to the storage closet to get one. He’s already changed into sleep clothes. For once it wasn’t even the desire to get out of clothes that are dirty that caused him to change so quickly – he could not stand to stay in his gear and uniform one second longer.

            He’s in sleep clothes in Erwin’s room, he realizes dimly. He hadn’t even really registered it.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. There’s something uncharacteristically timid in his voice.

            Levi doesn’t know if he wants to face him or not. Why did he come here again? He turns halfway, peers out at Erwin from under his hair, sideways.

            Erwin looks as unsure as he sounds.

            (Dorcia’s body, bit in half, torso, arms, head falling to the ground. That expression of fury still etched on her face, now with that unmistakable edge of fear, as if it had all caught up to her in that last moment, teeth ripping into her abdomen.)

            “Are you alright?” Erwin says.

            Levi barks out a laugh. He can’t help it. Alright?

            “Can I get you some tea?” Erwin says.

            Levi looks away, looks back down at the desk. He’s replaced all the items. It’s perfectly clean. There is not much more he can clean without going and getting more supplies from his room or the storage closet.

            (Levi screamed. He screamed at Artur to get back.)

            “You remember when you asked me how many of our recruits I thought were not afraid of death?” Levi says. It feels like breaking glass, breaking the still surface of water, speaking into that room where Erwin feels horribly far away and Levi feels like he’s in a tunnel, vision narrow, sounds distant. He looks down at the polished wood of Erwin’s desk. “Dorcia was. Artur wasn’t.”

            Levi looks up. There’s a dark look on Erwin’s face.

            (She was already dead.)

            “Levi, come to bed,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks up at where Erwin is standing next to the bed, pulling the blankets away from one side.

            “I just made that,” Levi says. There is nothing annoyed in his voice. He feels everything dimly.

            (Artur was unafraid of death. Levi had realized it too late.)

            “Levi, come sit,” Erwin says.

            “I want to hurt myself,” Levi says. He feels detached. Detached as Erwin’s expression shifts. It’s not surprise. Levi’s not even sure what he wants to do exactly. He doesn’t feel the urge for a knife nor the urge for soap and water and scrubbed skin. He’s not sure what he wants at all, and he’s not sure where the words even come from. “I might go get Hange,” he says, with no intention of getting Hange. He takes a few steps towards the door. His boots are lined up there, neatly. Erwin’s lie haphazard next to them. Levi stops to straighten them.

            “Levi, please come sit,” Erwin says. When Levi looks up Erwin is standing next to him, in front of the door.

            And Levi’s looking up at Erwin, up at his careful expression and wide blue eyes, and it’s so guarded, Erwin’s expression is always so guarded, so carefully constructed, and Levi wonders if he’s ever actually seen Erwin’s face without some type of mask over it. Has he ever really seen Erwin? (Is it not the same with him? Has he ever really let Erwin see him?)

            “Artur killed himself,” Levi says. I want to kill myself, he almost says.

            Maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the feeling that Levi can’t place, the desire to hurt himself but not with lines of pain or raw skin. A dozen images flash in front of his eyes all at once – a noose, titan’s teeth, vials of medicine, treetops looking down – no, not really. It’s always not really, he thinks. It would be so much easier if it wasn’t not really, he thinks.

             “I don’t understand,” Levi says, and it is a lie. Furlan’s blood, Isabel’s decapitated head, red hair, glazed eyes. He’d decimated the titan. It was a hairline crack choice. Violence or self-destruction, how he’s always dealt with pain – in the moment, he’d chosen the former.

            (It would have been so easy, it would have been so easy.)

            Dorcia’s head and torso and arms, fallen on the grass. Artur’s whole body was swallowed. Dorcia with blood all over the ground, entrails falling out, and Artur just gone, like he was never there at all.

            Levi is tired of violence.

            Unnecessary death, unnecessary death, they were twenty years old, had Artur only ever joined the Scouts to follow his sister?

            “Levi.”

            Furlan had caught him – how had Levi not caught Artur? Had it been an in-moment decision? Was this a problem before he joined? If Levi had gotten to him first, would Artur have just killed himself a day later?

            “Levi.”

            Had Dorcia known? Artur was always quiet – even when they fought, Dorcia led, Artur followed – so closely though, so closely you almost couldn’t tell, an almost perfect mirror image. He’d been closest with Gunther. Levi had been too far away. He couldn’t get to either of them in time. Snap teeth, blood gush, her torso and arms and head, falling, falling, thump, and then a gas canister firing, grappling hooks springing out, Artur with his blades not even drawn.

            (“Do you think this war takes pieces from us?”)

            Undoubtedly.

            “I want to hurt myself,” Levi says, and he’s not sure if it’s true.

           Do you think this war takes pieces from us, do you think I can take pieces from myself, do you think I can take pieces from myself and rip them out, cut them out, scrape and wash them away? I think I can. (I think I can’t.) 

            Hands come down on his shoulders. Levi looks up. Erwin is there. Levi steps backwards, sideways, out of Erwin’s hands. He looks around the room.

            What is he doing there? What was he trying to accomplish by coming here? Pointless. Useless. Had he thought Erwin could help him? Naïve or just desperate, he’s not sure.

            (Dorcia died with fury, Artur died with grief and peace. It is so hard to think that Artur’s death was worse. It is so hard for Levi to think a similar death would be so terrible, when Dorcia’s eyes hung with pain and Artur’s eyes hung with relief.)

            Levi has not felt this particular spiral in a long time.

            (Has he really? Maybe he just doesn’t like naming it. Maybe that’s why he keeps saying he wants to hurt himself.)

            He remembers the feeling of rope in his fingers, coarse, rough, stable in his palms. He remembers Furlan’s hands on his shoulders, remembers Furlan pushing him to the ground.

            “Levi, please come sit down,” Erwin says. He stands in front of the door. His expression’s changed now, holds fear distinctly. Does he know? Levi thinks. He always knows.

            (Does it count as a suicide attempt if he was stopped before he’d even finished tying the noose?)

            Levi misses Furlan. He misses Furlan and Isabel and he misses never thinking about titans much less knowing what they look like, much less having every waking moment dedicated to their eradication. He misses when his only goals were to survive and to scrap together enough money to get out of the underground, to start a life on the surface. He misses the kind of freedom that comes with lawless invincibility, the knowledge that no one could touch him, that his reputation and his skills kept him safe, so long as he was vigilant and smart.

            They are the only things he misses about the underground, but he feels them strongly now, in this moment.

            “I’m thinking about the rope,” Levi would say to Furlan, voice quiet, when Isabel wasn’t in the room. She knew about it, but it scared her and Levi could never take that frightened, still expression on her face, the way she went quiet.

            “Let’s have a drink,” Furlan would say, and sometimes he’d just make tea, and other times he poured cheap whiskey into tall glasses.

            “I should have known he would do this,” Levi says to Erwin.

            “You couldn’t have stopped it even if you had,” Erwin says.

            He’s right, and Levi knows it, because Levi had realized. It was a split second, Dorcia’s head hitting the ground, turning to Artur, seeing the expression on his face. Levi had screamed at him to stay back, had immediately shot his grappling hooks, but he had been too far away. None of them had been close enough to stop him. Oluo and Gunther at a different titan, Eld and Petra almost out of sight, guarding the wagons farther back.

            “Why do we do this, Erwin?” Levi says. (“We” who exactly does he mean by we?) “I spent my entire childhood struggling to survive, starving – it was later, it was when we had enough money that we didn’t worry about food, when we had a reputation strong enough to protect us –” Levi cuts himself off. “And Artur – we spend so much time preparing to survive out there, learning and struggling to survive titan attacks, he spent four years killing titans to survive, spent three years before that training in preparation to survive.”

            “Soldiers give up their lives for the cause every time we leave these walls,” Erwin says.

            “This wasn’t for a cause,” Levi says, almost snaps, because Erwin has completely missed the point, or maybe it was just that he didn’t know what to say. “This was because his sister died. This was because he couldn’t keep fighting without her, because he didn’t have to fight anymore.”

            “I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin says.

            “He was stronger,” Levi says, “they’re going to call him weak. He was always a better fighter than Dorcia.” He followed her movements, when they performed their ridiculous, incredible, synchronized fighting. And because he followed, people – at least the people who paid enough attention to realize he was the one following – assumed Dorcia was the stronger of the two, since she led. They were wrong though. The ability to follow someone else’s movements so precisely, to anticipate the next move, adjust to minute changes mid-fly, mid-slash – it took an incredible amount of skill and precision and focus. It was when Dorcia and Artur separated, when they were forced apart by a flying titan hand and tearing grapples, that Dorcia had died.

            (Had Artur known Dorcia would die without him, is that why he followed her?)

            “They’re not going to call him weak. He wasn’t weak,” Erwin says.

            “They won’t call him weak only because they won’t realize what it was,” Levi says. No, only he and Gunther and Oluo had seen what happened, and only Levi had seen closely enough to realize, to see Artur head straight into the titan’s mouth without making any move to avoid it.

            “Let’s have a drink,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t want a drink,” Levi says. “Erwin, I…” Levi doesn’t know where he’s going.

            He reaches into the pocket of his sleep pants and pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open. The handle is worn but the blade is still sharp. It’s not his favorite – he has one in his room which he rarely uses anymore that he’d gotten when he was still in the underground. He has one of Furlan’s too. This one isn’t special, is pretty cheap actually. He doesn’t have to worry about having ready blades all the time anymore, but it is an old habit and he always has at least one knife on him.

            Levi flips the blade between his fingers, down to a reverse grip, back to normal. This one has a serrated edge. If he tries cutting himself with it, it won’t be clean.

            He draws a line across his palm with the tip of the blade. It’s barely a scratch really. It leaves a line of white skin that slowly goes pink. Tiny drops of bright blood appear in the line but don’t well over, don’t even bead up. He makes a fist, and then relaxes it again. The action forces blood from the thin cut and it smears rust red along the line.

            Levi doesn’t feel any of it. He makes a second line on his palm, this time with a little more pressure. It’s still not much more than a scratch. He doesn’t feel that either. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, jerking it up near his elbow. The scars on his wrist have almost completely faded. His scars have always faded quickly, have always been not too noticeable to begin with. His skin is too pale – they blend in. He makes another cut. A real one this time. Not deep enough for stitches, deeper than the lines he normally makes.

            He feels nothing. It causes a dual sense of fascination and panic. He lifts the knife to make another, but Erwin’s fingers wrap around his wrist and holds it there.

            Levi looks up. “I don’t feel it,” he says. “It doesn’t hurt.”

            “It will later,” Erwin says. Erwin holds his wrist for another few moments, until Levi relaxes the muscles in his arm and stops pulling against the hold. Erwin lets go carefully and Levi lets his hand drop.

            Levi looks at the two scratches on his palm and the cut on his wrist. He doesn’t realize Erwin has walked off until he comes back with a wet rag. Levi keeps his hand out in front of him and allows Erwin to wash the blood away, and then to press a bandage around the one on his wrist. The ones on his palm have already clotted fine.

            “Please, Levi, come sit down in bed,” Erwin says.

            Levi wants to go for a walk, suddenly, wants to go outside in the dark and go for a walk, but he doesn’t trust himself to do it. He wants to sit up on the roof of the barracks and look over the edge. He has never been afraid of heights.

            (He wants to be alone and not to be alone, it’s all double edged, sharp, crushing – he doesn’t know what to do.)

            He sees Dorcia’s head and arms, blood gushing, running down her chest to her cover her neck, her face, her eyes. He’d known – he’d known – he’d felt it a second before, harsh panic, was already turning to Artur as soon as he saw Dorcia’s body drop.

            (He sees Furlan’s hands desperately ripping apart the knot, sees it from the ground, his palms scraped. Furlan had screamed at him.)

            (“Get back, Artur, get the fuck back!”)

            Erwin’s hand is on his wrist again, grip gentle this time, steering him towards the bed. “You’ll feel better in the morning,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t believe you,” Levi says. His throat feels tight.

            (He’d practiced first. Locked in his room with the rope twisting in his fingers. He remembers the feel of it around his neck.)

            “You will,” Erwin says, like he knows it for sure and Levi thinks about how ridiculous that is – naïve. “Just lie down,” Erwin says.

            And Levi thinks about it. He actually thinks about it, actually considers it for the first time since he’s met Erwin. He can see it playing out, can hear his own voice, can see Erwin turning towards him, and for a second he almost opens his mouth.

           Erwin, I want to kill myself.

           He doesn’t say it.

            (Coward.)

            Levi sits down on the side of the bed. He looks down at the floor for a moment, the wood under his feet. He swings his legs up a moment later, allows his body to sink into the mattress, sink low enough that his head rests on the pillow.

            (It would have been a lie anyway, he tells himself. If he really wanted it, he’d be walking to the supplies shed or the stables, or breaking into medical, or something else, not sitting in Erwin’s bed, right?)

            Levi watches Erwin move around the room, grabbing clothes, walking into his private bath, then out again a few minutes later. Levi feels numb. He wants to cut himself again to see if he still feels nothing. Erwin grabs a candle from his desk and brings it over. He gets into the other side of the bed.

            “I’m not going to sleep tonight,” Levi says.

            Even if he could, he won’t. He doesn’t want to find out what twisted worlds his mind can come up with tonight while he sleeps.

            (He already sees stained grass and mutilated bodies and that half-despair, half-peace look in Artur’s eyes that Levi had recognized only because it was the same look staring back at him the night he left their apartment with a coiled rope in his bag.)

            “I know,” Erwin says. He pulls out a book from the table by his side of the bed. “I’ve been meaning to start this one for a while now.”

            “What is it?”

            “A novel,” Erwin says. “It’s a fiction about when titans first appeared. It’s already been banned in Sina for being blasphemous. They’re working on banning it in Rosa now.” He opens it up, and Levi hears the bend of the spine, the flick of pages turning.

            It’s oddly soothing and Levi hadn’t noticed his heart beating so quickly, his breath coming in rough, shallow inhales, until Erwin meets his eyes again and reaches out to touch his shoulder. Levi feels the heat from his palm and looks at Erwin and wonders again why he’d gone to Erwin’s rooms, what he thought Erwin could do?

            And Erwin's expression goes sad and still when he meets Levi's eyes. Erwin shifts over on the bed and squeezes his shoulder just slightly, runs his thumb up and down a couple of times and Levi feels the motion through his shirt, slow and gentle and soothing. “It’s going to be okay,” Erwin says.

            Naïve, Levi’s mind spits back. But Levi’s throat tightens at the same time as the muscles in his arms relax. Erwin lets go of his shoulder to hold the book, but he’s close now – Erwin’s leg brushes Levi’s all the way down, and Erwin’s not pressed against him but the closeness is certainly intentional. Erwin’s elbow rests on top of Levi’s arm and Levi doesn’t move away.

            You know why you went to his room.

            Erwin looks away to look down at the book and Levi stays looking over at him for one more moment, takes in his profile, head tipped down to look at the pages. Levi hears the paper as he sees Erwin’s fingers smooth over it.

            Levi closes his eyes and tries to let the images Erwin’s voice creates from the words block out the fracturing pieces of his mind.

           

 

 

            Levi doesn’t feel much better the next day. Erwin falls asleep sometime around three in the morning. Levi takes the book from his hands and relights his candle and keeps reading until the sun rises and the morning bell is ringing at five in the morning. Erwin doesn’t move. Levi gets up and goes back to his room to change. He thinks about how odd he must look, walking around the officer’s barracks in sleep clothes with no shoes on, but he can’t stand to put on his dirty uniform clothes again. He doesn’t pass anyone out in the halls this early anyway. The only ones up this early are usually him and sometimes Hange. She has a habit of sleeping odd and unpredictable hours, distracted with ideas and her research to the point where she loses track of time and ignores sleep in favor of work.

            Levi gets dressed and goes down and gets breakfast. He sees Gunther and Petra there. Gunther looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep either and Petra has a blank, almost steely look on her face. Levi nods at them, and then gets two plates of food. Normally Erwin has food brought up to his office for them. It’s been a while actually since Levi has gone down to the mess hall himself for breakfast. He brings the two plates back to Erwin’s rooms and pushes the door open. Erwin is still asleep and Levi glances at the clock that’s on his wall. Almost six now. Recruits have to be out for training at six thirty. Usually Erwin won’t schedule any meetings until at least seven.

            He brings the food up to Erwin’s office (picks the lock on it) and then goes back to Erwin’s rooms again. Erwin is only just waking up.

            They don’t talk much at breakfast. Erwin catches Levi as he’s leaving dinner that night.

            “Come stay again tonight,” he says, and there’s something worried in his expression.

            (Maybe he does know.)

            Levi nods, because he doesn’t really want to be alone tonight either (because he doesn’t trust himself to be alone tonight either) and because if he goes to Erwin’s room he can have a hot bath and the right side of Erwin’s bed and if he starts to sink all he has to do is reach out until the back of his hand touches Erwin’s arm or side, just barely touching, to pull himself out again.

            It feels better, sleeping in Erwin’s room, and Levi doesn’t have the energy or the desire to think more on that.

            He goes. He doesn’t ask Erwin to read to him again. Erwin is clearly exhausted. Levi takes a candle and the book again. He reads until his eyes keep trying to fall shut and then dozes for a few hours.

            He dreams that Artur spoke with him first. He dreams that Artur argues with him, that Levi is trying to talk him out of killing himself but he can’t think of anything convincing, just keeps thinking of reasons to die instead, and somehow he can’t move, can’t do anything to stop him, as Artur ties a noose and climbs up onto a building that doesn’t exist above ground.

            Levi wakes with a start and it takes him a moment to remember where he is, that he’s in Erwin’s rooms. He turns over onto his back and looks upwards at the ceiling. It’s overcast outside and it’s blocking any light they would have had from the moon. It means the room is very dark, and Levi shifts, with his heart still beating too fast, until his shoulder touches Erwin’s forearm. Levi can’t see him in the dark, but he can feel the heat from Erwin’s skin. He knows he won’t sleep anymore that night, but he stays lying in bed anyway. He sees Dorcia’s eyes and Artur’s hands, not reaching for his blades.

 

 

 

            “Are you going to ask about it?” Levi says the next morning, over their usual breakfast. He’s given up eating his toast and jam without taking a single bite. He isn’t hungry. He hasn’t really been eating but Erwin and Hange haven’t commented yet. He looks across the desk at Erwin.

            “Ask about what?” Erwin says.

            You have to be curious, Levi thinks and his eyes narrow because it’s unlike Erwin to play dumb. Perhaps it’s just that this is their unspoken rule, a topic they’ve not so much danced around as waded through for at least the past five years. Maybe Erwin doesn’t want to confront it. Maybe Erwin would rather pretend that part of Levi didn’t exist.

            It’s a sour thought. Levi doesn’t really believe it, but it still leaves something distasteful in his mouth.

            “It’s been five years,” Levi says. “You’ve asked me about everything else.”

            (And still, even now, he won’t name it. Neither of them name it. It’s like a sick game of chicken that has slowly started to make Levi feel like he’s breaking to pieces.)

            “It’s not something I want to push you with,” Erwin says.

            Levi raises an eyebrow. “This is what you decide not to push on?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says, hard, and the look he gives Levi is back to his Commander mask, solid and steadfast. Fine, Levi thinks. If he was really going to pick one thing not to push about I suppose the latent suicidality would make sense as the choice.

            (Not so latent two days ago.)

            Maybe Erwin really doesn’t know. Maybe Erwin thinks that Levi is talking about his past (almost) suicide attempt (not that Levi has ever explicitly told Erwin about that either). Maybe Erwin thinks Levi’s just talking about that near decade ago incident and not the fact that there’s something precariously balanced inside of Levi’s mind, and everything is fine as long as it stays that way, but Levi knows it’s going to crash down again eventually. The cleaning and the self-destruction feel like counterweights – trying to even everything out, trying to keep that precarious balance intact.

            “Fine,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks at him for another moment, and his expression softens from the hard certainty. His voice is quiet, open. “Do you want to talk about it?” Erwin says.

            “No,” Levi says.

            (Liar.)

 

           

Notes:

Yeah.

I'd really love to know what you guys thought of this one - like I said, this has been one of my favorite chapters but that might be at least in part because it was really fun (fun as in playing around with the italics and parenthesis and perspective and imagery and shit, not the topic, the topic was depressing as hell) to write. So I'm wondering what you guys think of it in relation to the rest of the fic, and I'd really love to hear your thoughts.

Chapter 12: Strain

Summary:

Levi Has a Terrible Week, Part 1

Notes:

Well this took longer than expected to finish up, but it's a super long chapter to make up for it. And that's after I cut it in half.

            The next journey outside the walls is a shitshow. They only lose one person, but it’s a nightmare from start to finish.

            It’s only three weeks after Dorcia and Artur die. This one is a small task force, on a special mission to retrieve medicine from a hospital inside wall Maria. They haven’t been able to get to it before because it’s too far in, but over the past four years they’ve set up bases with stores of supplies across the area. It’s still a very risky mission, but the past winter depleted the stores of medicine and they haven’t been able to build it back up over the year. If they don’t get the medicine then they risk an all-out plague this year.

            It’s Levi’s Special Operations Squad, Erwin, Mike, and the elite team within Hange’s squad. There’s fifteen of them total.

            They run into an abnormal Titan on an open plane the first day of the mission, only hours from when they left through the gate, and Levi’s stomach sinks. They’re in a fairly tight formation because of their small numbers, and it comes in from the right side, where Levi’s team is. 

            “Petra, Oluo, stay with the supplies, keep moving,” Levi says. “Gunther, distract it, Eld, take out its legs.”

            Gunther stays on horseback and circles in front of it, the Titan rushing for him. Eld gets behind it and slices through one ankle, but the thing moves suddenly and nearly kicks Eld from his horse.

            Levi attaches to its shoulder, then switches directions as it brings up a flying hand, going for its opposite arm instead.

            “Eld, get its neck,” Levi says, but Eld is already going for it, attaching to its back and swinging up while its distracted with Levi. Gunther moves around to try to cut its other ankle, the one Eld didn’t get. The titan starts to fall, swinging downwards.

            Gunther gets kicked by a flailing foot as the Titan falls, and, suddenly finding himself flying through the air, spinning, he shoots out blindly at it, trying to get an anchor point that isn’t the ground.

            Eld misses the Titan’s neck when it starts to fall, so Levi jumps over an arm and spins around. Just as he does, he feels a tearing, sudden streak of pain across his lower leg. He gets around just in time and cuts the Titan’s neck, right as Gunther goes reeling past him, feet landing on the thing’s shoulder.

            The Titan crashes to the ground and they all manage to jump off without it crushing anyone.

            “Levi,” Eld says, and Levi looks at him. Eld’s eyes are wide, but before he can speak, Gunther is rushing up to him.

            “Oh, God, Levi, I’m so sorry,” Gunther says.

            It’s only then that Levi looks down and sees the blood over his leg, fabric of his pants turning red, boot torn.

            “Oh, shit,” Levi says.

            “Oluo,” Eld yells. He and Petra are already circling around though, Petra jumping out of the wagon with a bag while Levi drops to his knee.

            “Sit down,” Eld says, hands on his shoulders. Levi gets his feet out from under him and sits, pulling off his boot. His heart is still racing and he doesn’t quite feel the pain yet. He grimaces.

            Levi’s mind is already going. He was able to stand on it, so it can’t be that bad, but it sure is a hell of a lot of blood. He rips the remaining fabric of his pants out of the way. It’s cut one of the straps to his gear as well – shit – and he reveals a bloody gash.

            “What happened?” Petra says.

            “Gunther’s grappling hook skimmed him,” Eld says. He takes the bag from Petra and starts fishing for bandages. He begins wrapping it up and Levi sucks in a breath. “It doesn’t look too deep, your boot probably stopped it from hitting bone.”

            Levi grits his teeth as Eld continues wrapping. “I’ll get in the cart,” he says. “We can’t just sit around here, we need to keep moving.”

            Levi looks up and they’re in tight enough formation on clear enough land that he sees Erwin in the distance, having stopped when he saw that Levi’s team and wagon had stopped.

            Eld helps him up, and Levi stumbles his way to the wagon. He gets in and Oluo takes Eld’s horse and Gunther takes Levi’s while Petra drives the wagon. Eld keeps applying pressure to Levi’s leg and Levi lies back against the stacks of boxes and shuts his eyes.

            “I’ll put in stitches once the bleeding stops,” he says. Levi nods. It’s only mid morning and they won’t stop riding until night. They shouldn’t wait that long to put stitches in. Once Eld is satisfied, he unwraps the bandages. Levi looks down at the wound. It’s a nasty gash – the grappling hook had torn his skin instead of cutting cleanly. It doesn’t look overly deep though. Eld takes out the needle and thread just as they hit a rock and the wagon lurches. Levi closes his eyes again. Great, he thinks.

            Levi takes long, measured breaths and tenses every time they hit a rock or a hole. They hit a particularly large bump just as Eld is inserting the needle, effectively jamming it much farther into his skin and Levi lets out a yell.

            “Damnit, Petra,” he says. “Are you trying to hit every fucking rock possible?”

            “I’m sorry, Captain,” she says.

            “Easy, Levi, it’s not Petra’s fault,” Eld says, carefully removing the needle to start again.

            Levi is beginning to regret his decision to have Eld take care of his leg while they’re moving rather than having stayed by the fallen titan until he was done.

            Eld finishes it and disinfects the wound before wrapping it up again. Levi gets back on his horse. His leg hurts but not enough to prevent him from riding. He’s more worried about his torn harness strap. He’d let out some of the slack around his thighs and then tied the harness together as tightly as possible but he’s not confident it will hold. On top of that, the harness strap rubs against the bandage over the wound, and the tied knot digs into his leg above it.

            They stop when it begins to get dark, at a supply checkpoint that has been established prior. Levi goes to their store first. They have a couple of ODM gear stored there and Levi grabs a new harness for himself. Erwin finds him there.

            “I need a report on the titan you encountered,” Erwin says. He’s still so obviously in his Commander headspace and Levi almost roles his eyes. He closes the chest that the gear is in.

            “Gunther’s grappling hook nicked me,” he says. “Went through my boot and cut one of the straps.” Lev holds up the new harness. “Eld stitched it up.”

            Erwin frowns. “Will you be able to use ODM?” he says.

            “It’s not going to be fun,” Levi says, “but I can do it.”

            Erwin frowns. “Right,” he says. “We’ll move you to the front guard then.”

            Levi frowns but nods. Levi’s the last person that they want to be incapacitated. Their best fighter, down for the count.

 “Eld can lead your team,” Erwin says. “You’ll stay up front with Mike and I.”

            Levi acquiesces, if somewhat reluctantly. Staying up front with Erwin will keep him marginally safer – marginally less likely to have to engage a titan. Erwin is the one steering them, and Mike will take the lead in any titan killing. As much as Levi resents Mike, he knows that Mike is easily their second most competent fighter, right after Levi.

            “How’s it feel?” Erwin asks him.

            Levi puts some pressure on it. He winces. He’d had a slight limp while walking. “Not great. Not terrible,” Levi says.

            “You’re sure you can use the gear?” Erwin says.

            “It’s gonna be a bitch,” Levi says, “but it’s a cut, not a sprain or a break. I can use it if I have to.”

 

 

 

            Levi only sleeps maybe an hour that night. He never sleeps much while out on trips – he cannot relax outside the walls and he’d given up trying to a long time ago. It was probably for the best. As long as they’re only out for a night or two, it’s not usually an issue.

            They set off again the next day, Levi up front with Erwin and Mike. They reach the city with the hospital around midday, and then pack everything up as quickly as possible, Hange taking the lead and directing everyone on what to take. Levi’s leg has gone a little stiff and it aches when he walks but once he’s on a horse it’s not bad at all. He relaxes as they keep going – it’s a focused kind of relaxed though, the feeling familiar. His eyes continue to scan for titans and he’s alert, but his mind is still. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling.

            It’s early afternoon when Levi feels the pain start to creep up his spine.

            No, he thinks, as soon as he feels the first bolt. No, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. He grits his teeth and tells himself it’s just from riding, that it’s been a while since he’s ridden so much and he’s just sore, that he’d slept sitting up against a wall the night before and his back is aching from it.

What they’ve been afraid of for three years finally happens: Levi gets an attack of pain while outside wall Rosa.

Fuck, fucking hell, motherfucker, Levi thinks. This can’t be happening first my goddamn leg and now this, seriously? It grows steadily over the next five minutes until Levi can’t lie to himself anymore. His stomach sinks with dread. Erwin had gotten him more painkiller last time they were in Mitras, but it’s back at Survey Corps headquarters. Levi doesn’t dare bring it on missions, too afraid that the glass vial will be broken or lost.

A jolt of pain rips up his spine and he swears again. His stomach knots up and he feels nauseas. He needs to lie down before it really hits and he falls off his horse.

            (If a titan attacks him he’s going to be utterly helpless.)

            He moves his horse forward so he’s right next to Erwin. Erwin glances at him, questioning.

            “It’s my back,” Levi says. “I’m going to get in one of the wagons.”

            Erwin’s expressions goes through a series of emotions, but he’s in full Commander mode now and Levi can see the change but he doubts anyone else would notice the difference. Erwin nods at him. “Take Eld,” he says.

            Levi’s mouth tightens and he’s suddenly swept with that idea, obviously neither Erwin nor Hange will be able to stay with him this time. He doesn’t have any painkiller. He’s going to have to lie in a wagon which will bounce and hit bumps and move under him. He’ll be lying on hard wood. Levi’s stomach turns. This is going to be absolute hell, he thinks. This is going to be fucking awful.

            But while Erwin is in full Commander mode, Levi is in full Captain mode. He shakes his head and pushes the thoughts away with a sinking resignation. “You need him,” he says.

            “Take Eld,” Erwin repeats, hard this time, that’s an order, the voice tells him. “Go to the wagon closest to his position – if any titans make it to that point then he can leave from there just fine as well.”

            He has a point. While Eld is his second in command, Petra, Oluo, and Gunther are all more than capable of handling themselves. Levi nods, breathes in as the pain spikes for a second, cringing. He turns his horse around, and rides down past two wagons to the one farthest back. Eld is at the very back, and he passes all his squad members on his way down. They look at him strangely but Levi doesn’t stop. His back is getting worse by the second and he’s afraid that he’s not going to make it.

            By the time he gets to Eld he’s dizzy and hanging onto the reins with white knuckles and the second Eld sees him his eyes widen and it’s clear he knows something is wrong.

            Levi shouts orders without thinking. His head is spinning and every hoofbeat is accompanied by a jolt of pain. He tells Eld to get in the wagon and yells at the driver to swap and take Levi’s horse. Eld can take the reigns to the wagon and Gunther takes Eld’s horse.

            “It’s your back?” Eld says once they’re in the wagon.

            Levi nods. His vision swims. The wagon is full of crates and Levi doesn’t think he’ll make it to a different one, doesn’t want to get back on that horse anyway, just wants – needs – to lie down. He can’t even be worried about the titans or how this looks or Eld’s puzzled, worried expression. He needs to lie down. His back is burning and Levi feels so dizzy.

            Eld is already moving crates though. There’s not enough space to make room on the floor, but he pushes several closer together. They’re the same size, and Levi lies down on top of them. Levi breathes harshly and the wagon hits a rock. He sucks in a breath and his stomach twists. This is going to be fucking hell, absolute goddamned fucking hell, he thinks again, and hopes desperately that this attack is a short one.

            Eld sits on a crate next to him, one hand loosely on the reigns. The horses will follow the wagon in front of them, so unless a titan appears, he doesn’t need to do much. Levi closes his eyes, takes a harsh breath in. He feels a hand near the back of his head then, gently lifting. Something soft is slid under his head. Levi realizes that it’s Eld’s cloak.

            Levi opens his eyes and Eld gives him a tight smile.

            Levi lasts about three minutes before he starts crying. Every rock, every bump, every stray branch or tree root or bush or log they go over is a sharp jolt and Levi can’t breathe. He thinks he’s going to pass out and his vision goes black and it feels like his ears are ringing, sounds echoing, but he’s still conscious.

            It feels horribly like when the doctor in Sina had touched his back and wouldn’t stop, except this time there is no one to ask to stop, and it keeps going for so much longer. Levi wants to tell Eld to get him out of the wagon, to just leave him behind. He doesn’t care if he’s eaten by a titan, anything to make the pain go down. At first he swears at the wagon’s jolting, and then that slips away to just pained noises. Eld takes his hand at some point, starts talking, but Levi doesn’t hear him.

            It builds and builds and Levi’s back in that half-conscious world and he keeps opening his eyes and his vision blurs and the curses which turned to pained noises now turn into screams.

            It’s an absolute fucking nightmare and everything slips away and distorts until all Levi knows is that someone is stabbing him over and over in the back, someone has poured oil on his back and lit him on fire. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s in fucking agony. He writhes.

            And then Eld is there. Eld is there but someone is still stabbing him. Eld pushes something near his mouth, is saying something. Levi bites down and tastes leather. He grinds his teeth on it.

            He does pass out eventually. He’s at least partly conscious for the first half hour though. Eld sighs when he realizes that Levi has finally, mercifully passed out. His movements all stop and the screams end and Eld carefully pulls his folded belt from between Levi’s teeth. He lays Levi’s hand down at his side and looks up. He’s been watching for smoke flares and for titans on the horizon but it seems everything is going well.

            Levi wakes up about an hour later, and he’s still in pain but it’s better now. He tells Eld to switch back with the original driver, and then lies in the wagon for another half hour before he’s willing to try to get up. It had, thankfully, been a relatively short attack, a little under two hours. Levi’s still aching and exhausted once it’s over though, and the last thing he wants is to get up, strap his gear back on, and get on a horse, but he doesn’t have much choice. As soon as the pain has dampened enough that he thinks he’ll be able to use ODM gear again, he gets back on his horse and returns to the front with Erwin. Erwin looks sideways at him, questioning, but Levi doesn’t get close enough to talk.

            He just wants to get this fucking trip over with.

            He’s in an awful mood and it’s probably best for everyone that they’re riding and thus not talking right now, because Levi knows he’d snap at the first person to speak to him. His back hurts, his leg hurts, and a jolt of pain goes up both with every step of his horse. While the lack of sleep the previous night would not normally be an issue, he is exhausted now. He’d been sweating terribly during the attack of pain and now he’s cold and clammy and he wants a hot shower and knows he won’t have one for another day. His skin is already itching and he’s already thinking about how he’s going to find a way to wash when they stop for the night – he’ll need to find a well or a river and it’ll be fucking cold but he feels disgusting. He knows they don’t have any tea packed away too.

            He curses Erwin out in his head because the shitty old bastard caught Levi slipping it into the supplies and had yelled at him for it again – Levi always brings tea on the Special Operations Squad missions and he always tries to bring it on any long expeditions, but Erwin has repeatedly reprimanded him for doing so –

It is unnecessary weight, Levi.

It’s fucking tea leaves, Erwin.

And a kettle to brew them.

– so they don’t have any fucking tea on top of it all, and Levi is still staring at the back of Erwin’s head thinking about all the ways he could kill Erwin with a teakettle, when two titans come out of nowhere from up ahead, almost directly in front of them, and Erwin yells for everyone to hold formation except for him and Mike, and takes off. Each go after a titan, and Levi is already getting ready to jump up if either look like they’re in trouble, when a third appears.

            Levi’s the only one left in the front guard and he doesn’t think before heading towards it. They’re on relatively flat land, just a couple of scattered houses and trees, but Levi dispatches it quickly enough. He’s back on his horse by the time Erwin and Mike are there. He doesn’t feel anything at first – all adrenaline and clear, intense focus, reflexes and muscle memory. Erwin asks him if he’s alright and he just nods.

            It takes about ten minutes after the encounter for the pain to come back, and his body is not happy with him. The pain in his back returns with a vengeance. It hurts badly enough that he’s afraid for a few minutes that he’s going to have a second attack, but it doesn’t get worse. His leg is burning and Levi thinks he might have torn the stitches.

            The anger and irritation from earlier gets drowned out by the pure fact that Levi feels like shit.

            They make it to another town to stay the night in and Levi is gone from the group and to the river as quickly as possible. He washes as well as he can and for as long as he can tolerate the cold water before getting redressed. He checks the stitches but they’re not torn, only bleeding a bit, so he disinfects it again and rebandages. His skin is still itching but he’s freezing and nearly out of soap.

The soldiers set up in what used to be a farmhouse and barn and Levi feels his eye twitch. He stands at the doorway to the barn and it’s dirty and there looks to be mold on the ceiling and it’s clear that animals have been in the space recently.

(Another reason why he hates overnight trips outside wall Rosa.)

Petra and a man from Hange’s squad are serving up what appears to be stew. Hange calls him over and he goes reluctantly. He takes a bowl from her and just stands there holding it. Exhaustion starts to drag at him but being in the filthy barn (and the food was prepared in that filthy barn) is putting him so on edge. His leg and back hurt more the longer he stands up but he won’t sit down in the barn, not after he washed and changed into clean clothes. He shivers.

            “Eat your soup,” Hange says, “you look like a stray cat.”

            Levi glares at her. He looks down at the soup, then looks up at the ceiling of the barn. He looks over at where the fire is, where Petra and the man were cooking. He looks back down at the soup.

            “I’m really not hungry tonight,” Levi says. He looks for somewhere to put the soup down. “I’m going to find a place to lie down,” he says.

            “Petra said you hurt your leg yesterday,” Hange says, frowning. “I can take a look at it first.”

            Levi shakes his head. He just wants to get out of there. It feels stifling the longer he stays. “It’s fine,” he says. He doesn’t have the energy to explain more than that.

            Hange frowns at him. “At least eat some soup. Come on, it’s warm, and it even doesn’t taste horrible.”

            Levi looks down at it again. “I’m not hungry,” he says.

            Hange frowns at him some more and Levi sees the moment that that switch is flipped, although it looks almost subtle, the way she becomes serious. “I’ll get you a ration bar,” Hange says.

            Petra’s eyes follow her but she doesn’t ask any questions. Levi’s team isn’t stupid – although Levi does wonder just how much they know, just how much they’ve inferred from his behavior.

            Levi doesn’t wait for Hange. He shoves the bowl of soup into one of her squad member’s hands and then leaves the barn. He shoots himself up onto the roof of the farmhouse and then lays his cot down over the shingles. He lies flat and stares upwards.

            It feels like it all catches up to him suddenly and he feels awful. He’s cold and the pain in his back is still considerable, enough that he can’t distract himself from it for even a second. His leg throbs. His skin still itches and he wants to clean and can’t, but mostly he’s just tired. He never sleeps much on trips and he doesn’t usually need much sleep but the bouts of pain are different – they leave him utterly exhausted. And while this one hadn’t been long, it had been absolutely brutal. He’s never passed out during one before.

            He’s up there for only about five minutes when he hears grapples and then Erwin is walking towards him.

            Levi closes his eyes. It’s a dual kind of shock, the second he sees him – longing and dread. Levi already knows why Erwin’s up there and he doesn’t want this conversation, feels like he can’t handle being pushed right now. He wishes they were back in Erwin’s room instead. Wishes he could be drinking tea after a hot shower while Erwin reads to him in a clean room.

            Levi lets out a slow breath.

            “I brought you soup, if you want it,” Erwin says, “and a ration bar if you don’t.”

            “Not hungry,” Levi says.

            “Levi.”

            “Erwin.”

            “You need to eat something, Levi.”

            Levi says nothing. He still has his eyes closed and he hears Erwin shift beside him.

            “Levi, you need at least a ration bar,” Erwin says.

            His tone is hard and Levi chalks it up to Erwin still in Commander mode. Levi starts to tense up anyway and he puts his hands over his face, brings them up to run through his hair, all while still lying down. “I’m not hungry, Erwin,” he says again. “I’ll eat in the morning. I’m not eating tonight.”

            “Levi, this is not a debate – you need to eat,” Erwin says.

            Levi tenses further and he wants to sink into the roof he’s lying on, and a scowl works its way across his face. He doesn’t say anything. He opens his eyes and looks up at the sky, the stars there.

            “Levi, you are going to eat,” Erwin says, and his tone is commanding this time and that is all it takes for Levi’s body to go completely tense, irritation that has been festering all day bubbling up again in an instant. He’s so fucking done with this day and this trip and with Erwin and his shitty ration bar.

            “No,” Levi says, twice as hard and showing all that anger.

            “Levi, I will order you to eat if I have to,” Erwin says, clear irritation cropping up in his tone as well. The words are stern and unwavering and Levi fucking loses it.

His eyes snap open and over to Erwin, where he’s holding the ration bar out with a hard, challenging, authoritative expression. Levi sits up all at once. He grabs the ration bar out of Erwin’s hand and flings it off the roof in one motion.

            “I said no,” Levi says, staring down Erwin, body coiled and gaze wildly forceful.

Erwin stares right back. His eyes hold just as much danger and power as Levi’s do. The only difference is that Erwin’s gaze is precise where Levi’s is chaotic.

            “Levi,” Erwin says, his name dragging, slow. His tone is still hard. There’s a kind of controlled anger in his eyes. “You’re going to breathe for a moment, and then you are going to tell me what the hell that was.”

Levi scoffs but drops back down, back hitting the cot, letting his head tilt back as well. He breathes deeply anyway, wills his body to calm down because somehow it can’t tell the difference between panic and anger – his heartrate starts going and his breathing elevates and suddenly the crawling of his skin doubles as well. He just lies there and breathes for a couple of minutes. Should just get up and leave, he thinks, but his back twinges and it feels like his limbs are all weighted down. He makes no move to start the conversation again.

            “Why don’t you want to eat?” Erwin says. “They’re the prepackaged rations. Is your stomach bothering you?”

            “I told you. I am not hungry,” Levi says. It’s not a lie. He doesn’t feel like eating at all. “Just give it up, Erwin. I’m tired, let me rest.”

            “Eat a ration bar and then I’ll leave you alone.”

            “I’m not fucking eating it, Erwin. I am a goddamned grown man, stop trying to shove food down my throat.”

            “We are outside the walls. I need my soldiers, including you, Levi, in top form. You will not be in top form without fuel,” Erwin says.

            “I’m not in top form anyway,” Levi snaps. “I’m in shit form. Or did you forget the leg injury already?”

            “I need you to eat, Levi,” Erwin says.

            “And I told you I’m not fucking eating.”

            “It’s a damn ration bar, Levi. It’s prepackaged, it’s not contaminated, so I don’t understand what the problem is,” Erwin says.

            Levi tenses and stays silent, glaring.

            Erwin makes a clearly annoyed noise. “Are you afraid you’ll vomit again?” Erwin says. “Is that was this scene is about?”

            His tone is irritated and impatient and it is so unlike how Erwin usually talks to him about these things. Levi feels his hands clench and his face screw up and he hadn’t realized how much he would hate having Erwin talk to him like this – like he’s an inconvenience, like he’s being a stubborn child acting out, like he’s ridiculous for having these problems.

            He’s surprised at how much it hurts.

            In the back of his mind he knows that Erwin is just as tired as he is and that Erwin is on edge, overly alert, because they are outside the walls and that that is where this demeanor is coming from, but right now Levi doesn’t give a damn and it doesn’t matter if he can rationalize the behavior or not, it still makes him feel like shit. Levi can feel his face heating up and his stomach twists.

“Go to hell, Erwin,” he says.

            Erwin lets out a frustrated noise. “Levi, so help me, I am not in the mood for this, can you please just–”

            “And you think I fucking am, you think I’m in the mood for this shit?” Levi says. He sits up again and he wants to hit Erwin, wants to shove him away but he balls his hands to fists instead. His chest constricts and it feels painful. “Do you think I like feeling like this? Do you think I like not being hungry, not wanting to eat? Do you think I like feeling like shit? I’m sorry I can’t schedule my problems around your fucking moods, Erwin.”

            Levi’s face is hot when he finishes and he can hear his rapid pulse in his ears, and he’s so angry, and it feels like his throat is tightening, trying to suffocate him, because Erwin has never talked to him like this – for all his misunderstanding and all of his pushing, he has never made Levi feel shame for his issues. Erwin has always met his problems with open, compassionate acceptance.

            (Levi hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on that.)

Erwin’s expression goes almost startled, but the irritation is still there. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have phrased it like that. I’m just frustrated, because I don’t understand why you continue to refuse to eat when –”

            “I’m telling you the goddamn truth,” Levi says. “I’m not fucking hungry, Erwin.” His voice cracks and it takes Levi completely by surprise. He hears it almost outside himself, like it doesn’t quite register that that sound is coming from him, and he keeps going even as his voice continues to waver. “I feel like shit, and my back has been hurting all fucking day long, and it’s still hell, and my leg hurts, and there is dust and grime and mold everywhere, and I can’t get clean, and I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired.”

            Erwin looks back at him, and he just looks startled now, almost shocked.

            “So if you could stop talking to me like I’m a shit inconvenience and leave me the hell alone that would be great,” Levi says.

            Erwin’s face softens and Levi can’t stand it. He looks away, hands still balled to fists, face still red, throat tight.

            “Levi,” Erwin says, and this time it comes out as a breath. “You’re not an inconvenience. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, to talk to you like that.”

            It’s so damn gentle and Levi thinks it would have been easier if Erwin had gotten angry, if Erwin had just stormed off, because this tone feels like a punch to his stomach and Levi doesn’t know what to make of it at all.

            “Just don’t talk to me like that anymore,” Levi says, not looking at him, and it sounds pathetic. Levi almost cringes at the sound of his own voice.

            “I won’t, I’m sorry,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s looking out at the trees but he sees Erwin slide closer out of the corner of his eye and then he feels a hand on his shoulder – light, just ghosting over it at first, but Levi doesn’t move and then Erwin places it fully on his shoulder. He starts rubbing Levi’s back and it makes Levi feel embarrassed, but he doesn’t move away. Fuck you, he thinks, because he can’t handle the competing, sick swirl of hurt and longing in his chest, and it’s always been easier to be angry. The touch is soothing though, and if he focuses on it hard enough then he can almost block out the pain for a few moments.

            They sit like that for a couple minutes. Long enough for Levi to calm down, though he still feels horribly off and he still doesn’t want to look at Erwin.

            “How is your back feeling?” Erwin says.

            Levi doesn’t answer for a moment. “Fighting the titan fucked it up more. It hasn’t gone down since,” he says.

            “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. “Hopefully it’ll feel better tomorrow.”

            “I just want this shit trip to be over,” Levi says.

            It’s almost funny, because they haven’t even lost anyone yet. If everything goes well tomorrow then it could just wind up being one of the only missions outside the walls where nobody dies. And yet Levi has rarely wanted one to be over as viscerally as he does now. They’ll be back inside the walls before dark tomorrow and Levi can’t wait.

            “How was…” Erwin trails off and seems to be rethinking his words. “How did it go in the wagon?” he says.

            Levi’s throat tightens again and this time his chest joins in. He doesn’t want to think about it. “Shit,” Levi says. “I started screaming. Passed out.”

            Erwin lets out a breath. “I’m sorry, Levi.”

            There’s a long pause and then Levi looks over at him, finally looks and takes in Erwin’s softened expression, the worry and tad of guilt in his eyes. It’s focused, all of Erwin’s attention on him. “You were being a fucking asshole about this, you know that?” Levi says.

            Erwin takes a breath and his eyes go sad. “Yes, I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin says, “I’m stressed and I took it out on you.”

            “What the hell are you stressed about, everything’s going nearly perfectly to plan,” Levi says.  

            “It wasn’t exactly in the plan for my strongest soldier to cut his leg and then be down for the count with a back injury,” Erwin says. “It certainly wasn’t in the plan to watch you suffer so much.”

            Levi is silent for a long moment. “You have a shitty way of showing you care, Smith,” he says.

            Erwin looks sadly back at him, and Levi sighs. “I’m sorry,” Erwin says again. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

            Erwin has rarely said things which upset Levi. He’s said things that make Levi angry, or irritated, or frustrated, but not hurt him. Levi relaxes slowly, Erwin’s hand still moving across his back.

            “How many times have I hurt you?” Levi says.

            Erwin looks startled. “What?”

            “How many times have I hurt you?” Levi says again. “You remember when you asked me how many times you, the Survey Corps, hurt me, made me suffer? How many times have I hurt you?”

            Erwin just blinks at him for a moment. “I don’t think you’ve ever hurt me, Levi.”

            “That can’t be true,” Levi says. And Levi thinks it’s probably not fair of him to be getting so upset at Erwin’s words now, to have gotten so upset and angry when all Erwin did was talk to him with a little less than perfect compassion. You just have to be a fucking saint, Levi thinks. Levi wonders how many times he’s done the same thing to Erwin. “I’m an asshole,” Levi says, “I have to have done things, said things, that have hurt you.”

            “You’re too hard on yourself,” Erwin says, “and I’m not easily offended.”

            “Hm,” Levi says. He doesn’t think Erwin is purposefully lying to him, but Levi’s still sure he’s done things to hurt Erwin.

            “You should come down,” Erwin says. “You’re shivering.”

            Levi attempts to still the movements when Erwin points it out. He probably should not have spent so much time washing in the river. He’d gotten himself freezing and now he can’t seem to warm up.

            “Not spending the night in one of these shitty buildings,” Levi says.

            “Then come down and at least stand by the fire for a bit,” Erwin says. “And really, the soup will help you warm up. Even if you just drank some of the broth.”

            “Hm,” Levi says, but he has no intention of getting up.

            Erwin eventually coaxes him into drinking some of the broth from the stew. He stays up there for a while later, long enough for Levi to warm up a bit and lie back down, Erwin’s hand slipping from his back to his shoulder. Levi closes his eyes and he’s still awake when Erwin leaves, when the sounds of the rest of the soldiers filter out as everyone finds a place to sleep for the night. It’s somehow the same duality as the rest of their night has been. Levi misses Erwin’s warmth and the comforting hand on his shoulder, but he knows he won’t really sleep until Erwin’s gone, and he is still so tired.

Levi slips into unconsciousness and manages to doze for a few hours that night.

         

 

 

            The next morning Erwin nearly dies.

            It brings things into sharp focus, suddenly and all at once. Levi has been in the Survey Corps for over eight years now, and most people do not live that long in the Survey Corps. It gets to the point where anyone who joined the Survey Corps before Levi, and is still alive, Levi pretty much assumes will be around forever. It’s not a particularly conscious thought, but he doesn’t worry about Erwin or Mike or Hange or Moblit, even really of Eld or Gunther. They’ve already faced numerous life or death scenarios and made it home, and Levi implicitly assumes they will continue to do so.

            He knows, rationally, that anything can happen, of course. But it doesn’t really hit him so starkly until he watches a Titan close its mouth around Erwin’s body.

            “You fucking idiot!” Levi yells when he comes to a stop where Erwin has fallen. Levi doesn’t feel his back or his leg or anything at all. Levi’s eyes scan over him, noting that all of his limbs are intact, that there doesn’t appear to be any major bleeding, nothing bent out at the wrong angle a fucking miracle. “Why didn’t you have your blade ready?”

            Erwin opens his mouth but Levi’s already waving his arms.

            “You were three seconds from being Titan chow – actually, scratch that, you were Titan chow. You are Titan chow. You are spat out Titan chow!”

            “Spat out Titan chow,” Erwin says with a grin (and fuck him and the audacity he has to grin right now). “I’ve been called a lot of names, Levi, but that is a new one. I rather like it.”

            Erwin had gotten picked up by a titan, and he should have been able to slice it’s fingers off, but he hadn’t been able to because he hadn’t had his blade drawn already, and then he’d been deposited into the titan’s mouth, and it was only then that Levi had managed to get up to slice it’s neck. He’d cut under the titan’s jaw a second later, forcing it to fall open, and there was Erwin, his blade jammed into the roof of the titan’s mouth, hanging on, feet sliding against it’s tongue and throat.

            “Are you fucking listening to a word I’ve said?” Levi says. His heart seems to only be ramping up instead of calming down because holy shit, he was in the dammed thing’s mouth. Erwin stands and wipes slime and dirt from his clothes. Levi screws his face up in disgust. Erwin just smiles at him. “I can’t fucking look at you,” Levi says, and he turns away. He whistles for his horse and gets on without looking back.

            Levi doesn’t say one word to Erwin the rest of the trip.

            Stupid fucking Eyebrows and his shitty sense of humor. Took way too fucking long with his blade – what, was he not paying any fucking attention? If he’d had it ready, he would have been able to cut through the thing’s hand when it grabbed him. It’s such a fucking rookie mistake, Levi thinks.

            They get back that afternoon and Levi goes and has a very long hot shower (finally) and makes himself a cup of tea and when he’s finished, he marches to Erwin’s office.

            Levi throws Erwin’s office door open. It bangs against the wall and Levi strides in.

            “You aren’t training enough,” Levi says. “You’re going to train more before the next expedition.”

            Erwin looks up from the report he’s writing. He has also changed and there’s a bandage on his head. “Are you saying I’m out of shape, Levi?”

            “Yes,” Levi says flatly.

            “Very well, I will put some more time into training,” Erwin says. “Still have to find time for the paperwork though.”

            “Get a secretary,” Levi says.

            “Thank you, by the way,” Erwin says, (ignoring him), “you stomped off before I could say it earlier.”

            “Next time I’m gonna let it eat your ass,” Levi says.

            Erwin smiles at him. Levi lets himself fall into his customary chair. His expression can’t even be called a glare, it’s more like a glower. For a moment he actually looks like he’s pouting and Erwin grins at him.

            “What?” Levi snaps.

            “Nothing,” Erwin says, looking back down.

            Now Levi is definitely glaring. “The hell are you doing, Shitty Eyebrows?”

            “I thought it was Spat out Titan Chow now?” Erwin says.

            “If you think I won’t come over there and punch that smug look off your face then I am happy to give a demonstration,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks up at him from his paperwork and there’s something softer in his expression this time. “Levi, would you like to stay in my room again tonight?” At the look of surprise on Levi’s face, Erwin continues. “I know I scared you.”

            “Are you telling me you’ve had a closer call than that one?” Levi asks, and beneath his own anger (and yes, fear) he’s surprised that Erwin doesn’t look at least a bit more shaken by the whole thing.

            “Oh no, that was by far the closest I have been to being eaten,” Erwin says.

            “You’re taking it all rather calmly,” Levi says. His eyes narrow. He scans over Erwin’s face again, his posture, the lines of the muscles in his neck, his shoulders. Levi’s wondering if Erwin’s offer for Levi to stay with him that night is really about Levi’s fear and not Erwin’s own. But he can’t see any overt signs of tension or shock in Erwin’s expression.

            “This may be my closest call but it is certainly not my first close call,” Erwin says. “You forget I’ve been in the Scouts for over twice as long as you.”

            “I’m very well aware of that,” Levi says. “It’s made you complacent.”

            “That is not a word I would use to describe my mindset,” Erwin says. “Though I agree with you – I’ve not been keeping up training enough. I reacted too slowly.”

            “What gave you that impression?” Levi says. “Was it the fact that you didn’t even have your damn blade drawn when it grabbed you or did it take until you were actually in the thing’s mouth?”

            “You seem very upset by this,” Erwin says.

            Levi stares at him for a moment. There is something very oddly calculating in Erwin’s gaze and Levi can’t figure out if he’s more pissed about Erwin’s words or if he’s just confused because yeah, he’s fucking upset. “You almost got eaten,” Levi says, because apparently this is not clear yet. “Of course I’m fucking upset.” Erwin keeps looking at him calmly and Levi is near sputtering. “Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

            “I didn’t think you’d be this upset,” Erwin says, and yes, that is definitely something calculating in his expression and Levi is too angry to analyze the rest of it – Erwin’s gaze is intense and focused and Levi has no idea how to interpret that or what to do with it.

            “Why the fuck not?” Levi says. “You wouldn’t be? If I had almost died, you wouldn’t be this upset?”

            “No, I wouldn’t be.”

            Something drops in Levi’s stomach. He’s not prepared for the amount of hurt that invades his chest. It’s sudden and crushing and cold.

            Erwin’s expression morphs from that cool, calculated mask to concern in the span of two seconds, but Levi’s face is already going red with anger.

            “Fuck you, Erwin,” he says. He turns to leave and he feels hollow and angry and cold. He doesn’t want to spend one more second in Erwin’s presence.

            “Wait, Levi,” Erwin says.

            Levi doesn’t turn around, doesn’t pause. He reaches for the door and suddenly Erwin is next to him, holding it closed. Levi turns to him with a murderous look because how fucking dare he block Levi from leaving after that.

            “You misunderstand me,” Erwin says quickly. “I didn’t mean I wouldn’t care if you died, Levi, that’s not what I meant at all, I would never say that. I only meant, I wouldn’t be as angry as you are. I wouldn’t be upset like you are, I’d just be relieved you were okay.”

            Levi pauses and looks at him from the corners of his eyes, glaring to the side.

            “It’s not the same for me,” Erwin says, “and I should have realized that, Levi, I’m sorry. You have to understand, I… I am used to seeing you fight titans head on and come very close to dying every single time we leave the walls, Levi. Your close calls don’t upset me like that anymore because I’ve had to get used to watching you fight and I’ve had to trust that you will come back alive. I hadn’t considered that you aren’t used to seeing that of me. I’m one of the safest people out there when we leave the walls because I am leading, so I don’t usually engage titans, and I hadn’t thought about how you aren’t used to seeing me in such dangerous situations the way I am used to seeing you.”

            Levi glares at him for another long moment but the tension in his chest uncoils slightly. He gives Erwin a shove – fast enough that Erwin stumbles and isn’t expecting it, light enough that he only takes a small step back, more surprised than anything.

            “Idiot,” Levi says. “You left out the part where I have never been damn near swallowed.”

            A smile breaks out on Erwin’s face. “You’re forgetting the time your gear malfunctioned and you were literally holding the Titan’s jaw open while inside its mouth until Eld got its neck.”

            “That was barely a five meter,” Levi says.

            “Trust me, Levi, that did not make it any less scary,” Erwin says.

            “Yeah, well you fucking terrified me,” Levi says. “I thought you were fucking dead.”

            “Well I’m very much alive.”

            “And still being an asshole,” Levi says.

            “I’m sorry, Levi,” Erwin says.

You fucking should be, Levi thinks, but he doesn’t say it. It’s a petty thought, and Levi’s already calming down anyway.

            “I’m not having a very good couple of days, am I?” Erwin says. “This is the second time I’ve upset you in two days.”

            Levi prickles at that. Upset you. He doesn’t like the way it makes him sound like a fragile child, like someone easily upset, weak.

            “It’s fine,” he says.

            Erwin looks at him for a long moment and Levi’s eye twitches. He feels an unsettling desire to squirm, but he looks back at Erwin instead. “It’s not,” Erwin says. He frowns. “It’s okay that it’s not.”

            Levi’s eye twitches again. “I said it was fine,” he says.

            “You don’t feel fine,” Erwin says. “You’ve had a terrible couple of days and I’ve managed to make it worse. Twice now.”

            “You’ve only made it worse because I’ve already felt like shit,” Levi says. This wouldn’t bother me if I was feeling normal, he thinks.

            (Liar.)

            Erwin opens his mouth and Levi is just not ready to be pushed right now.

            “Leave it, Erwin,” he says. “Please.”

            Erwin’s mouth closes again. Another appraising look. “Alright,” he says quietly.

            Levi feels too much relief. “I’m commandeering your bath,” he says. Yes, a bath, Levi thinks. I just need a bath and some tea and some more sleep, and then this stupid off balance feeling will go away. He just wants to get back to normal.

            He leave’s Erwin’s office, after Erwin promises to be up at his room in an hour or two, after he makes a couple of reports. He says he’ll bring dinner, and Levi does not want dinner and does not want an argument and debates in his mind whether he should sneak off first and then try to lie about it.

            He climbs the stairs to Erwin’s room after stopping at his own and then picks the lock to it quickly. He makes himself tea first, and then he strips out of his clothes and fills the tub. His back is feeling better today, but it still aches. He’s hoping the bath will help.

            I’ll feel better when it stops hurting, he thinks, I’ll feel better once I get a couple more hours of sleep. He sinks carefully into the hot water. It stings his skin at first, but then the heat separates and spreads to a deep warmth. He leaves his leg with the bandage on it over the edge of the tub to keep it dry. Even though he’s already taken a shower he still washes his body again.

            It’s only three weeks after Artur and Dorcia, he thinks.

            Blades not drawn.

            He hadn’t made the connection when it happened, but now it comes up like a shadow swallowing his thoughts. Artur’s blades not drawn. Erwin with his blades not ready, not drawn.

            He lets out a long breath.

            I’ll feel better tomorrow, he tells himself firmly. It was a shit trip but it’s over now.

            He feels like he can’t completely calm down. When he gets out of the tub and Erwin’s not back yet, he takes to cleaning Erwin’s room again. It really doesn’t need cleaning so soon, but Levi does it anyway.

            He doesn’t understand how he can still feel angry at Erwin and yet want him to be there. He doesn’t understand why he is still angry at Erwin. He doesn’t understand why, after finishing cleaning the room, he sits down on Erwin’s bed and pulls the blankets around him and waits, feeling sick. He doesn’t understand the slow, subtle wash of relief when Erwin enters from the door.

            Some sleep, he thinks, I just need some sleep.

Notes:

Thank you again to everyone who commented on the last chapter (and on all chapters in general). I love getting your feedback and hearing what you have to say!

Next section will be the "part 2" to this chapter, because no, Levi's terrible week is not over.

Chapter 13: Infection

Summary:

Levi has a terrible week, part 2.

So that leg wound from last chapter? The one that was not overly important? So that was just a set up for this chapter.

 

 

He wakes up the morning after they get back from the trip to get medicine outside wall Rosa and he notices that the wound seems to hurt more than it did the day before. He shakes it off as having been sleeping with his legs in a weird position or something.

            He slips out of Erwin’s bed and grabs his boots and clothes to walk back to his own room. Erwin, as usual, doesn’t wake up as he leaves – or at least, he doesn’t wake up enough to say anything.

When Levi puts pressure on his leg, the pain gets worse. He frowns, makes his way back to his room, and then once there slips out of his sleep pants to look at the bandages. He doesn’t see any noticeable new bleeding. He thinks maybe he tore the stitches somehow. He grabs new bandages to change them anyway and then starts unwrapping the old ones to reveal the wound.

            It’s leaking pus and the skin is red and inflamed, hot to the touch.

            Levi stares at it.

            No, no, no, no, no, it’s fine, it’s fine. He can’t stop looking at it. Stitches pulled tight, the skin swollen, crusted blood and yellow drainage. It’s infected. There’s no even pretending it’s not – it’s infected.

            He hears his heartbeat pounding, feels the pulse of it in his whole body, chest tight. He needs to clean it, needs to disinfect it, needs to clean it now.

            He goes for rubbing alcohol and to heat up water. He gets a rag with the alcohol when he freezes above it. Soap and water first, right? But then, do they have to open up the wound again? He can’t scrub at it with the stitches – he’ll tear them and make it worse.

            He has the sudden urge to scrape at it with his fingernails and moves his hands automatically to do so before freezing again – shit, that’s just going to make it worse. But then he wants to scrub at it with the rag, and he can’t do that either – he’s getting more and more frantic, more panicked, and suddenly he’s afraid he’s going to snap and start scrubbing uncontrollably and make it so much worse.

            No, no, no, no.

            Can’t think, can’t think, he doesn’t know what to do. He needs it to be clean. He wants to take a knife to it and carve into his own skin, dig out all the infected flesh, get all of that disgusting pus and diseased blood out of him. He needs it out of him, he needs it gone, the infection is inside him, eating at his skin, and he can’t do anything.

            He throws on the sleep pants and slips on shoes and doesn’t change beyond that, nearly runs back to Erwin’s room. When he gets there he goes for the doorknob but it’s locked now and so he bangs on the door before he even realizes what he’s doing.

            He can’t breathe. Levi can’t breathe. His vision tunnels. He wants to hack his leg off with a hatchet, he wants it gone, he needs to clean it, needs to be able to clean it –

            Erwin swings the door open and his look of confused irritation drops completely when he sees the expression on Levi’s face. He takes a step backwards and Levi steps into the room, just far enough for Erwin to close the door. Erwin’s half dressed – pants and shirt on, no gear straps or boots yet.

            “What happe-”

            “It’s infected. The cut’s infected,” Levi says.

            Yellow pus, red blood (decaying bodies with split open wounds and flies, maggots eating rotted flesh) he’d cleaned it, Eld had cleaned it (stumbling, falling on top of a woman – no, a body and the stench and milky eyes) he’d disinfected it twice, he’d changed the bandages, kept it dry (scarf pulled up over his nose, coughing bodies and blistering skin, open sores.)

            He’s dizzy. He needs soap. He looks around Erwin’s room and the panic tightens, throat constricting. He never should have left his room, where the hell does Erwin keep his rubbing alcohol – does he have rubbing alcohol in his room?

            “Okay,” Erwin says, “let’s go to medical then – how bad is it?”

            “Soap,” Levi says. “I need – Erwin I can’t do this.”

            Can’t do this, can’t do this, his fingernails are scraping at his arms and he doesn’t even feel it – he can’t breathe.

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says. He looks like he’s not sure what to do, the concern quickly ramping up to sharp worry. “Let’s go to medical, and they’ll take a look. They’ll clean it for you.”

            “No,” he says. No, God, he can’t stand medical right now, no. “I have to clean it, I have to clean it now, I –”

            “Okay, we’ll go right now,” Erwin says, grabbing at the door handle.

            “No, Erwin, you don’t,” Levi starts, and his voice is desperate, he needs Erwin to get it, needs it to click.  “I want to dig a knife into my leg and cut the whole fucking thing out,” Levi says. There’s a dawning realization on Erwin’s face. “And I can’t fucking do that,” Levi says. His voice cracks. He can’t breathe. “I need to scrub it clean, and I can’t, and –”

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says. “Levi, it’s going be fine, you just need to breathe. You just need to breathe a little slower now, I swear, it’s going be alright.”

            You don’t know that. I could lose my goddamn leg. I could die. He swears he can feel the infection crawling under his skin, spreading, causing his flesh to decay right there on his body and all he sees flashing in front of him his mother’s face, skin tightened, bloated, people in dark masks piling bodies on a cart, blood in his mouth, skin, hair, he is so careful, how did this happen?

            “We’re going to go to medical,” Erwin says, opening the door.

            Levi takes a step back. “No,” he says. (Excruciating pain, unable to move, screaming, pleading.) He doesn’t trust them anyway. “No, I’m not going there, I – Hange, I want Hange.”

            Erwin hesitates but must decide that it’s not worth it to try to argue for an actual doctor over Hange, not at this point anyway.

            “Alright, I’m going to get someone to get Hange, and we’re going to go back to your room,” Erwin says.

            It would be easiest, probably the most comfortable for Levi too – his room was bound to be cleaner than just about any other space in the building and he had plenty of water up there and a fireplace to heat it in as well. Erwin grabs the first person he sees in the hallway and tells them to get Hange, tell her to grab a full med kit, and to get to Levi’s room. The soldier startles at that but goes.

            Erwin goes back with Levi to his room. Levi is trembling and hyperventilating and Erwin keeps telling him to breathe but it doesn’t seem to really be working. Erwin gets him to lie down on his bed, pants pulled up to reveal the wound and Levi goes so pale that Erwin thinks he’s going to pass out.

            “Don’t look at it,” Erwin says, putting a hand out to block his view. “Lie back, and just focus on breathing. Hange will be here soon.

            He waits until Levi does, and then he goes and starts a fire in Levi’s fireplace, before setting water to boil. Hange will probably need it, and anyway, Erwin is thinking some tea might help.

            “Erwin, I need a knife,” Levi says. His voice is hard, a breath away from shaking though. Erwin looks back over at him and he thinks Levi is talking about cutting at the wound, but there’s something harder in his expression this time, something solid amid the panic and Erwin realizes that’s not what he’s talking about at all.

            Erwin gets a sinking feeling. It’s certainly a better idea than causing more damage to the wound on his leg, but Erwin would also really rather avoid any more injuries today.

            He turns around and goes to where he knows Levi keeps bars of soap. He takes one out and then grabs a large bowl sitting on top of the water barrel, fills it, and then goes back to Levi. He deposits the bowl and soap onto Levi’s lap before grabbing two folded towels. He throws one over the wound on Levi’s leg so that he can’t keep looking at it and puts the other on the bed beside him.

            Erwin is about to tell him to wash his hands, but Levi’s already doing it, apparently taking his substitute for the knife without complaint. He washes his hands rather forcefully, and then he does all the way to his elbows. He clearly wants to do farther up his arms as well and he makes an impatient noise, but goes to washing his hands again anyway. He glances down at his leg.

            When Levi’s done three repetitions of hands then wrists then elbows, Erwin takes the bowl and soap and cloth away. Levi doesn’t protest but he does draw his legs up a little and put his head down in his hands, taking long, harsh breaths.

            Hange bursts in shortly afterwards. Moblit is right behind her. His eyes widen at the sight, and Levi and Erwin are both irritated that Hange brought him until they see that he has a tea kettle with him. Hange holds the (rather large) med kit.

            Moblit pours Levi tea while Erwin removes the towel from over Levi’s leg. If Hange is surprised or worried, she doesn’t show it.

            “Okay,” she says. She looks up at Levi. He’s holding his tea in both hands because they’re trembling slightly. He lets the heat from the cup burn his skin. It helps ground him a little more, helps keep his vision clear and not full of slipping images of the underground and death that has nothing to do with titans. He focuses on Hange’s face, her mouth moving. “I’m going to need to remove the stitches, open the wound, drain it, clean it, re-stitch, disinfect, apply an ointment, wrap it, and then give you an injection.” She gives them a moment to take that it. “It’s going to hurt. Do you want to use some of your painkiller, Levi?”

            He looks back at her with clear indecision, clenching and unclenching his jaw. No, I need to think – I can’t think anyway – no, it’s going to make the panic worse – the pain is going to make it worse – the pain is grounding – there will still be enough pain to be grounding even if I take the medication.

            “I think you should take it,” she says.

            It’s really not going to feel good and she’s worried that with how keyed up and anxious he already is, he isn’t going to be able to handle the pain very well. It’s a gamble though – the medication can also make him anxious – although that’s been bothering him less recently.

            He takes a deep breath. He focuses on Hange’s face. “Okay.”

            Erwin knows where it is and goes and retrieves it. Hange opens up the med kit and gets everything she needs. She takes the chair and Erwin takes one of Levi’s buckets, turns it upside down, and sits on that. Moblit stays out of the way by the door. Hange hasn’t told him to leave solely because she’s pretty sure someone will need to hold Levi’s leg still at some point and she wants Erwin to be able to focus on trying to keep him calm.

            He has one full vial left. Hange fills a syringe with a quarter of it. Both to conserve it – they are very expensive and he needs them for the back pain too – and because if she gives him too much it’ll make him even more panicky.

            He seems to calm down a bit though as she starts. It’s still disconcerting having him so quiet and with fear so blatant on his face. She’s pretty sure it’s really freaking Moblit out, but he’s doing a good job of keeping his expression blank.

            “Don’t look, lie back,” Erwin says to him.

“Won’t even let me finish my fucking tea,” Levi says, but he takes another sip and then hands it to Erwin and begrudgingly shifts so that he’s lying almost flat on his back, and can’t see what Hange is doing unless he tilts his head awkwardly.

            She gives him the injection and then a couple minutes to relax and let it take effect.

            Oh, fuck, this was a bad decision, Levi thinks as he sinks into the haziness. The pain in his leg dulls significantly but suddenly he can barely get his already mismatched thoughts together. He clenches his hands and shuts his eyes. “Fuck,” he says.

            He doesn’t have to say more. Recently he hasn’t been getting as nervous from the disorientation that the painkillers cause, but then again he’s only been taking it for his back pain. He was already coming out of a panic attack right now – Hange isn’t surprised he’s more bothered by it this time.

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says. “It’s just me and Hange. You’re fine.”

            “Fuck you, I’m not fine,” Levi says. “I can’t fucking think.” His already non-existant filter just gets worse. He feels his heartbeat get faster again and suddenly it’s so loud. Would he be able to fight his way out, if he wanted to? If Erwin and Moblit hold him down while Hange works? Normally he’d say he had a very good chance of succeeding but now – probably not, he thinks.

            “I want to wait until it wears off,” he says, excruciating pain, can’t see, can’t hear, just pain and screaming and begging and – “Shit, no I don’t, fuck, I hate this.”

            He doesn’t want the pain, he wants to be able to think clearly, the pain’s going to cloud his thinking anyway, he’s terrified of being put in that position again, but this won’t hurt as much as that –

            “Let’s just start, and see how you feel,” Erwin says.

            Levi takes a shaky breath. I trust them, he thinks, reminds himself. I trust them, I trust them, it’ll be okay. He tries to breathe slower, tries to do what that stupid shitty friend of Hange’s had told him to do. It’s not the doctor in Sina, it’s not a stranger, it’s Erwin and Hange and it’ll be fine, even if I can’t think completely straight, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, he tells himself forcefully, fast. He tries to convince himself.

            Hange gets rid of the stitches. Levi doesn’t look. In fact, he keeps his eyes shut. He doesn’t feel much. A couple little twinges, her fingers (cold) on his skin. It makes him tense up a little bit. He clenches his hands to fists and realizes that Erwin is holding one of them. He hadn’t noticed Erwin had taken his hand.

            “I’m going to reopen the wound now,” she says.

            Levi tenses up and flinches when he feels a sharp pain over the wound. He lets out a long breath. It hurts but once the initial shock of the knife touching his skin is over, it’s not that bad. The medication is doing its job, dulling things to a manageable level. He stays still for it.

            “Just tilt your leg like this,” Hange says, and then gently repositions it. “Great, I’m gonna start draining and flushing.”

            Levi keeps his eyes closed and tenses up and grits his teeth as she keeps going. It’s not pleasant. He tries to block out the more uncomfortable parts – she’s squeezing his skin to get everything out and it makes his breathing pick up and he can’t help squirming – little jerks, shifting his other leg, moving his hands, turning his head to the side, tilting his shoulders – it’s not even that it really hurts, it’s that he can feel what she’s doing and it’s disgusting and he feels fluid dripping down his leg – blood and pus and dirtied water, and he’s going to have to throw out the towel that’s under his leg and he needs to wash his skin, wants to wash it now, needs to get the disgusting signs of infection off of his skin now.

            “Easy, Levi, you’re doing fine,” Erwin says. He gives Levi’s hand a squeeze. There’s a mixed grimace on Levi’s face – panic and discomfort, some pain, disgust.

            “Wanna stop,” he says tightly, eyes still closed. He hasn’t opened them once. His expression twists again. “Fuck, Shitty Glasses, get that gunk off me.”

            Hange doesn’t look up, she keeps going without any change and Levi makes a noise in his throat. “Hange.”

            “Mm?” Hange says, pausing this time.

            “The stuff. On my skin. Clean it,” he says, and his words are all tight and pained – Erwin thinks they’re probably meant to come off angry or impatient but there’s too much desperation weaved in.

            “Oh,” Hange says, and she uses a pad of gauze to wipe away the accumulated fluids from his leg. She follows with some water and then wipes that away as well.

            Levi lets out a breath and relaxes slightly. Hange keeps working, but now she wipes off Levi’s leg frequently.

            “Okay, just need to cut out a couple of bits here,” she says, almost cheerfully. It alarms Erwin but if Levi feels any heightened apprehension, he doesn’t show it. Erwin watches with a grimace as Hange picks up a scalpel again, but Levi doesn’t appear to be in much more pain than before. Erwin knows that Hange only gave him enough painkiller to take the edge off – he wonders how much it’s really doing. It’s all Levi ever takes – a quarter vial, sometimes even less – just enough to make it bearable, no more.

            “All done, going to clean it now,” she says.

            That’s warm water and soap at first, and Levi relaxes into it. There’s still pain but it’s flickers and jolts and he focuses on the warmth of the water, even if it stings – it’s being cleaned, he’s getting cleaned. He wants to do it himself and the desire itches but he breathes and focuses on that thought it’s being cleaned, it’s getting clean, Hange is cleaning it, I trust Hange, she’ll do a good job.

            “Okay, worst part now, have to use the alcohol,” Hange says.

            Levi takes a deep breath but then he feels two hands wrap around his leg, below and above the wound, and apply hard pressure downwards. Levi’s eyes snap open for the first time, automatically starting to sit up, trying to pull his leg out of the grasp.

            “Easy,” Erwin says, hands up in front of him, stopping Levi from grabbing at Hange or Moblit. “It’s just for a minute – just to get the alcohol done.”

            Levi’s stomach does a sick flip. Because he’s going to try to move, because even with the painkiller it’s going to hurt enough that he’ll try to fight, try to get away, so they have to hold him down, and Levi starts shaking, vision suddenly tunneling.

            “It’s to help you hold still,” Erwin says quickly, as soon as he sees the panic suddenly intensify. “He’s not holding you down, it’s just to keep your leg still, it’s okay.”

            Levi lies back down, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t really have time for it to sink in, just gets the calming tone of Erwin’s voice and not holding you down, not holding you down.

            “Deep breath, Levi,” Hange says, and then waits to see him take one before pouring alcohol on the wound.

            He screams and flinches hard, trying to jerk his leg away. Hange starts dabbing at it afterwards and Levi lets out a string of curses, digging the heel of his opposite foot into the bed, scrabbling with the hand that’s not in Erwin’s for a few more moments until he starts to relax again, still breathing hard.

            “All done,” Hange says, “stitches now.”

            The stitches don’t hurt as much as Levi is expecting. He had assumed they’d be worse since this is the second time around, but the painkiller is blocking enough of it that it’s not bad at all. Hange dabs some alcohol on it again when she’s finished, and Levi lets out muffled hisses but it’s not as bad as the first time. She puts something sticky on next and Levi knows it’s just a cream, but it makes his skin crawl anyway. She wraps it up afterwards and that feels a little better. After that it’s just another injection, something to kill of any remaining infection as well, and it burns quite a lot but after that it’s over.

            Hange had shooed off Moblit after the alcohol, so when she finishes wrapping up Levi’s leg, it’s just the three of them in there.

            “Done!” Hange says, and then she snaps the med kit closed and jumps onto the bed.

            Levi’s eyes widen and he draws back, but it’s incredulity and not fear. Hange pushes him over to one side of the bed and then wraps her arms around him.

            “Oi, get off me, Shitty Glasses,” Levi says.

            “Nope,” she says, settling down next to him. “I just put you through a lot of pain so now I get to make you feel better.”

            “Crushing me is not making me feel better,” Levi says. He pauses. “Some tea would be nice though.”

            “Erwin! Tea!” Hange says, but then she relaxes her grip on Levi and settles for sitting next to him, their shoulders and arms pressed together on the small bed, and she links arms with him before grasping his hand. Levi looks at her with an irritated scowl. He gives a tug at his hand but Hange holds it fast.

            “Will you quit being a damn leech and let go of me?” he says. He gives another tug at his hand, trying to snake his arm back with it. Hange keeps an iron grip.

            “Nope,” she says. She thinks for a moment though. “I’ll give you your hand back if you let me play with your hair.”

            Levi’s scowl deepens. “Fine,” he says.

            Hange makes an excited squeal and Levi sighs. Hange lets go of his hand to start running her fingers through his hair.

            “What is it with you and my hair?” Levi says.

            “It’s so soft,” Hange says, “it’s because you clean it so much.”

            “They make soap specifically for hair,” Levi says. Erwin hands him a cup of tea then. “Thank you,” Levi says, very quiet and without looking at him. Erwin just nods.

            Levi sips his tea and Erwin sits down in Hange’s discarded chair. Erwin looks at the small but growing collection of books stacked (very neatly, in alphabetical order) on Levi’s desk.

            “Would you like me to read something to you?” Erwin says.

            “Mm, still too hazy, won’t be able to concentrate,” Levi says.

            “It’s wearing off though now, right?” Hange says.

            “Yeah, it’s not as bad.”

            Levi relaxes slowly. He draws out drinking his tea, and then he fiddles with the cup for a bit after that, staying on the bed with Hange. He feels the remaining dregs of the painkiller, the haziness in his head, fade. The pain ramps up as the painkiller wears off but it’s manageable. Eventually he sits up a bit farther.

            Hange makes a disappointed noise, the new angle not ideal for playing with his hair. Levi ducks away from her.

            “It’s mostly worn off,” Levi says. “I’m going to get dressed.”

            “You should rest some more,” Erwin says. “And stay off your leg.”

            Levi shakes his head. “I’m hungry,” he says. He turns to Erwin. “You’ll be in your office, right? I’ll come down there and help you out with the letter writing.”

            “Well, I’m off then,” Hange says, grabbing the med kit. “Change the bandages tonight and tomorrow morning – check for redness twice a day.”

            Levi nods. Hange gives him a bright smile. “Thank you, Hange,” he says, the same soft voice he’d used to thank Erwin.

            “Always, Levi,” Hange says with another grin.

 

 

 

            Levi hasn’t been doing well since Artur’s death, and that was before this trip outside wall Rosa. It’s only been three weeks though since the twins died, and Erwin can’t tell if Levi’s withdrawn, exhausted, apathetic look is solely due to grief or if that volatile, numbed pain part which Levi showed right after his death has stuck around.

            Erwin has on several occasions felt disturbed and shocked by Levi’s words and actions when it comes to his self-destructive tendencies. But he’s never felt scared.

            He’d felt scared when Levi talked about Artur’s death. He can’t even pinpoint why exactly, but the look on his face and the sound of his words had set the hair on the back of his neck standing up and a gut feeling of danger to spring to his chest. He thinks maybe it was because Levi wasn’t frantic. He was speaking calmly.

            He wasn’t panicking. On the few occasions that Erwin has caught Levi hurting himself or cleaning too much, he’s been panicked, frenzied. But he wasn’t panicked or frenzied. And yet he’d looked just as desperate.

            He’s afraid after Levi’s cut gets infected, on top of and right after the miserable trip, that this will serve as a catalyst in an already unstable situation. He’d been nervous about sending Levi’s team out so soon after loosing Artur and Dorcia, but the trip had been planned weeks in advance, and in training they were performing no less competently than before.

            When the door to Erwin’s study opens and Levi walks in, Erwin is relieved. Levi still looks a little off-center and he’s limping a bit, but he walks in and sits on his customary sofa chair.

            “How are you feeling?” Erwin says, though it’s only been maybe an hour since Erwin last saw him. He wonders if Levi actually went and got something to eat, or if that was just a convenient excuse.

            “Better,” Levi says.

            “How’s your leg?” Erwin says.

            “Fine. Manageable.”

            Levi’s tone is dismissive and Erwin takes it as a hint and continues writing letters to the nobles in Sina. He hears Levi shifting on the chair. After a couple of minutes Levi stands again. Erwin looks over but Levi walks to the window before he can catch his eyes.

            Levi starts pacing – or it would be pacing except he’s really moving from one item of furniture to the next – Erwin’s bookshelf, his table, the red sofa chair, the tan one that Erwin usually takes, the plain wood one in the corner, back to the window, then the cabinets – it goes on.

            Erwin listens for another couple minutes before he turns. “Levi, you should really give your leg a break,” he says.

            “Mm,” Levi says, touching the top of his cabinets. He inspects his fingers afterwards. He looks back up at Erwin. “I’m going to clean your office.”

            Levi is gone before Erwin can argue more. He sighs. Levi comes back with a broom and dustpan and mop and a bucket of water and sponges and soap. He’s fairly laden down.

            “Levi, really, you should rest your leg,” Erwin says.

            Levi says nothing. He sets to work with the broom and dustpan first.

            “I thought you were going to help me with the letters,” Erwin says.

            “I’ll help afterwards,” Levi says. “My handwriting’s shit anyway.”

            “That’s never stopped you before.”

            “These ones are to the nobles – they’ll be expecting your fancy script.”

            Erwin sighs. “Very well.”

            Levi sweeps the room, and then he mops it, getting down on his knees to scrub at any particularly stubborn spots or stains. He shows no signs of stopping once he finishes that.

            Erwin finally puts down his pen and turns around in his chair to look at Levi fully. “Levi,” he says, “are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

            Levi is lying down in the ground on his back and reaching with a sponge underneath Erwin’s bookcase. It looks like Levi’s arm might get stuck doing it.

            “I didn’t say I was feeling alright, I said I was feeling better,” Levi says without looking over.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “There’s a hole in my leg that I would prefer not to be there.”

            “Levi, you should sit down,” Erwin says. He scans Levi up and down – notes the sweat beading up on his forehead, the tension in his shoulders, the hard fix of his eyes. “I can take a break,” Erwin says, “read to you for a bit. I could get some tea.”

            “You’re already behind,” Levi says without looking over, staring at the ceiling lying on his back, reaching with his arm under the bookcase, jamming his shoulder even closer to it.

            “I can take a break,” Erwin says.

            Levi retracts his arm and then sits up on the floor and turns to Erwin. His expression is strained now. “Erwin, I’m having a shit week,” he says. “Just let me clean the damn office, okay?”

            Erwin takes in a long breath. “Okay,” he says.

            He doesn’t say anything while Levi continues to clean. He washes the windows, scrubs the walls, cleans the cabinets, even goes so far as to carefully dust and scrub and polish Erwin’s desk, working carefully around him. By the time Levi finishes, it is almost dinner and Erwin’s office is cleaner than it has ever been.

            Levi does not look any less agitated than before he started. In fact, it might be worse. He hovers around and seems to be trying to find something else to clean. When he’s totally exhausted every option possible, he finally sits back down in the red chair. He drums his fingers on the armrest and shifts positions at least five times, looking all over the room.

            Erwin watches him subtly. He’s at a bit of a loss as to what to do. He has found that there are really only three things which will calm Levi. Cleaning, tea, and physical comfort from either Erwin or Hange. Levi has cleaned the entire office. Erwin has offered tea. He’s really not sure how Levi would react if he went over and tried to sit on the chair with him. Erwin has a feeling he’d wind up on the floor on his ass.

            Erwin looks at him, as Levi shifts again, then fiddles with one of the straps on his thigh. He’s changed into his uniform – Erwin can’t fathom why, as he’s clearly not using ODM today – but he’s dressed normally. Erwin’s eyes slip back up to his face and he tilts his head.

“Levi, why do you wear a cravat?” Erwin says. Perhaps he just needs a distraction, Erwin thinks. Someone to talk to, even if it’s not about what’s bothering him.

            Levi looks up at him with eyes wider than usual, surprise, some confusion. “My cravat? I’ve worn that for eight years and you’re asking me now?”

            Erwin shrugs. He’s thought of it before actually – it was pretty odd. He’s just never asked. Cravats weren’t common to begin with, but wearing one while in uniform was especially strange. Erwin had never seen a single other soldier, in any branch, wear one while in uniform. In fact, he can’t really recall any soldier wearing any type of tie around their neck (besides the customary commander bolo ties) while in uniform. The closest was a couple who wore bandanas on occasion.

            “I was wondering,” Erwin says.

            “Tch,” Levi says, looking away again. He shrugs. “I like it.”

            “It’s an odd choice though,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks at him sideways, eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of my clothing, Erwin?”

            Erwin smiles though. “No,” he says. “It suits you. It’s just very uncommon, and you’ve worn it since you first got here. Did you wear one in the underground as well?”

            “No,” Levi says.

            “Why, then?” Erwin says. “Why only once you got up here?”

            Levi raises an eyebrow at him. “I was an underground thug,” Levi says. “And I was good at what I did, which meant there were a lot of people who didn’t like me. Best not to wear something wrapped around your neck when you could get jumped.”

            “Hm,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks away for a moment before looking back. “Some of the merchants wore them,” Levi says. “I always liked them, but it was impractical. When I came up here I could get one.”

            Erwin tries to picture it. Sixteen-year-old Levi, watching merchants from the shadows, merchants whose goods he was going to steal. Erwin imagines there were probably a lot of things that Levi envied about them. The ability to wear a cravat though seems a strange one. Erwin’s not sure if that just seems funny or if it makes it even sadder.

            “Why do you hold your tea by the rim?” Erwin says. It popped into his head as he thought about how strange it is that Levi wears a cravat – another unorthodox, unexplained thing about him.

            Levi raises an eyebrow at him again. “Going to ask me about all my idiosyncrasies?”

            Eight years ago you never would have known that word, Erwin thinks. His vocabulary had not been very expansive and his grammar had been worse. Erwin remembers suppressing the desire to correct him every time he used a “got” instead of “have,” every time he dropped letters off the end of his words, used a word that didn’t quite mean what he thought it did. Levi had adapted quickly enough, though the accent of the underground still slips in every once in a while.

            “Perhaps,” Erwin says with a smile.

            Levi rolls his eyes. “Handles break,” he says.

            Erwin frowns. “That’s a pretty rare occurrence though, don’t you think?”

            Levi is silent for a long moment. He speaks without looking at Erwin. “First teacup I ever owned the handle broke the first time I used it.”

            Erwin’s face falls. Levi has a very nice, fairly expensive tea set in his room now, Erwin knows. Erwin also knows how much care Levi takes of it, how much he loves that tea set.

            “I bought it too,” Levi says. “Partially with stolen money, but I actually went out and bought it. A teapot and three teacups.”

            Erwin thinks for one moment that three is an odd number, before the obvious answer comes to mind Levi, Isabel, and Furlan.

            “I loved that stupid pot,” Levi says. “It was so fucking ugly, cheapest one they had, and I loved it. Isabel never stopped teasing me about it.”

            “Do you still have it?” Erwin says.

            Levi shakes his head. “Got smashed in a raid by the military police. Couple months before you showed up, actually.”

            “You didn’t get another?” Erwin says.

            Levi shakes his head. “Would’ve had to buy all new cups too to get it to match. We still had a tin kettle. Furlan chewed me out for days over how much I spent on the first set.”

            “Was it really that much?” Erwin says. He really can’t imagine that one teapot and three cups could be so expensive. He had always assumed that by the time Erwin found him Levi had been living comfortably – by that point he was a notorious thief.

            “More expensive underground than up here,” Levi says. “And we were trying to save to get to the surface. Furlan especially.”

            “You didn’t?” Erwin says, surprised.

            “It was more Furlan and Isabel’s dream than mine,” he says. He shrugs. “I wanted to get out of that trash heap but it…” He trails off suddenly and frowns.

            He’s grown calmer, Erwin notices, as they’ve talked. He’s no longer fidgeting as much. Instead he’s sitting sideways on the chair again, back against one armrest, feet thrown over the other.

            “I didn’t think about it much,” Levi says. “I didn’t let myself think about it much. Life expectancy in the underground isn’t exactly high, and it cost a fortune to even get up the stairs, never mind try to get citizenship up there. Even if you hadn’t come and we’d kept saving, it would have taken years. It was too far off. I didn’t think about it much.”

            Erwin nods. Life expectancy. Not for the first time, Erwin wonders if Levi’s more self-destructive urges developed before or after coming above ground. After would make a lot of sense – he was thrust into a complete new way of life, a completely unknown world, and then lost the only people he cared about. Erwin has never regretted his decision to enlist Levi and his friends in the Scouts, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel a certain amount of guilt for doing so.

            “Stop looking at me like that,” Levi says, eyes narrowed at him.

            Erwin blinks, eyes refocusing. “Like what?” he says.

            Levi waves his hand agitatedly. “Like I’m a chess board. One with some broken pieces.”

            “Sorry,” Erwin says.

            “Tch,” Levi says and looks away.

            Do you ever regret coming here, Levi? Erwin wants to ask. He has wanted to ask it many times.

 

 

 

            Levi has had an infected wound exactly once before. It had not been a particularly bad infection, and it cleared up quickly with some antibiotic cream (which had cost a fortune). He had been fourteen and Furlan had taken one look at it, told him it was infected, and then they’d gone and gotten the cream for it. Furlan had helped him apply it while Levi watched and then hissed at the stinging. Levi had not realized that it was infected at first, and it was only afterwards that his skin had started to crawl and he’d cleaned their entire apartment before scrubbing his skin raw. It was one of the first times he’d wound up with bleeding knuckles from too harsh scrubbing.

            Levi goes to Erwin’s rooms after dinner and Erwin doesn’t look at all surprised to see him there. Levi wonders when this became normal.

            He’s a little put off by it, and has the sudden desire to go back and sleep in his own rooms. It’s immediately followed by a polarizing desire to stay in that room, to pull the blankets up around him and wait for Erwin to get under the blankets as well and for Erwin’s body heat to seep over from the other side of the bed.

            (There’s a nagging vulnerability that comes cropping up and with it the instinctive need to defend himself, to get away, hide himself, before someone will hurt him, to hide away until he has sufficiently recovered, until he is sufficiently strong and self-sufficient again.)

            He hates the way he feels. He’d thought it would be better today. He’d told himself that he would feel better today, and yet here he is, twenty-four hours later and only feeling worse. His leg twinges, and he reaches down to rub at it through the bandages.

            (He can still see the red, inflamed skin, the pus oozing out, crusted over.)

            Levi shudders.

            “You alright?” Erwin says.

            Levi looks up to where Erwin is changing out of his shirt. Erwin mostly sleeps with no shirt on, though usually in sleep pants. Levi has always been odd in that he sleeps fully clothed. He doesn’t like his skin touching the sheets. He always changes the sheets on Erwin’s bed before he sleeps there.

            It had been easy to justify the first time. Levi had been exhausted and upset and in pain. He hadn’t had the strength to fight the desire for comfort and he’d been anxious, irrationally afraid of having another bout of pain. He’d wanted to be close to someone in case it happened again. He hadn’t wanted to be alone. It had been easy to justify it right after Artur and Dorcia’s death. Levi had felt like shit. Levi hadn’t trusted himself.

            Levi doesn’t know how to justify the amount of times he’s now spent in Erwin’s bed. He doesn’t know how to justify the growing familiarity.

            But Erwin doesn’t seem bothered. Erwin has asked him to come stay in his room before. Erwin looks at him with a softening expression that Levi rarely sees outside of intimate interactions between him and Hange and Mike. Erwin looks at him with an unguarded openness that Levi doesn’t think he can return. (Doesn’t think he will ever be able to return.)

            What are we doing? Levi wants to ask.

            (What am I doing? he does not want to ask.)

            “Levi,” Erwin says.

            Levi looks up again. He’s sitting on Erwin’s bed. Erwin frowns at him with that sick soft look that Levi doesn’t know what to do with.

            “Hm,” Levi says.

            “You’ll feel better tomorrow,” Erwin says.

            “Isabel used to say that to me,” Levi says. He has no idea where it comes from, just that her image pops up in his mind and he can hear her voice. Quiet like it never usually was, the soft look on her face that was reserved for quiet nights when he stared too long at the wall or over the porch railing. He’s been thinking of them more often lately, and he thinks it’s probably because he’s felt so shit.

            “It’ll be better tomorrow, big bro,” she’d said to him once, after he’d vomited and proceeded to wash his mouth out with soap a dozen times over, until finally Furlan took it away from him and threatened to throw it into the street if he tried anymore. He’d gotten angry and screamed at him, and then nearly cried, and she’d taken his hands and he’d let her, looking at her callused, thin fingers in his. “Promise,” she’d said. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

            Erwin doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that. Stupid, Levi thinks of himself, stupid of you to say something like that. The hell are you trying to do?

            “I’d really like to feel better now,” Levi says, and again doesn’t know where it comes from. He can hear his voice echoing, a higher pitch, back when he was fifteen, the inflection slightly different, the l’s dropping off and the e’s too hard.

            “Look at big bro, talking all fancy,” Isabel would say to him now, looking over her shoulder at Furlan, whom Levi’s sure would be smirking.

            Levi closes his eyes and suddenly a swell of emotion rises in his chest and he swallows hard, feels his eyes burn behind their lids, wants to scream.

            “I know, Levi,” Erwin says.

            You don’t, Levi thinks.

            His voice is too soft and all Levi can hear is Erwin’s voice laid over itself, the hard tone two days ago, on the roof outside wall Rosa, and this soft, gentle one and suddenly Levi is standing, his hands pressed to his face.

            “Fuck,” he says. Fuck.

            Erwin’s body, disappearing into the titan’s mouth, suddenly just gone, same as Artur’s body, and Erwin’s hand in his as Levi’s mind swam and his leg burned with Hange’s careful cleaning, and that calculating look washing away to a depth of emotion which Levi will never be able to match.

            (Which you are terrified of ever attempting to allow yourself to match.)

            (Coward.)

            “Levi?” Erwin says.

            “Big bro?” Isabel had said, eyes wide and hand slipping from his shoulder, two nights before Levi tried to kill himself.

             “You’ll feel better in the morning,” she’d said, hugging him, after Furlan dragged him back two nights later, after Furlan and he had a screaming match in their kitchen.

             I just wanna fucking die, alright? Why the hell should I want to keep struggling in this shit life in this shit city inside this shit world? Levi had yelled.

             “It’ll be okay. Everything’ll be okay again tomorrow,” she’d said, arms around him, afterwards, and he hadn’t known if she was really talking to him or to herself.

            (He doesn’t want to feel.)

            (Cowardliarfuckedup.)

            What are we doing? he’d thought. You know exactly what you’re doing, a voice in his mind answers.  

            And there is Erwin, at his side, a hand on his shoulder. “Lie down,” he says softly, like he did earlier that day.

            Levi lets himself be guided back onto the bed, lets Erwin pull the blanket back. Levi lies down. Erwin moves around the bed and gets in on the other side. He puts a hand on Levi’s arm. Levi feels the weight of it, the warmth.

            He’d told himself he had been thinking of Isabel and Furlan more because he’s felt so awful lately. Levi wonders suddenly if that’s not why he’s been thinking more about them at all.

            (It took him two years to love Furlan, for him to be family. One year for Isabel.)

 

 

Notes:

So if anyone is wondering what my writing process looks like, there has been a repeating pattern of, I write a bunch of shit, I delete about a third of it, and then I cut another third and leave it on my doc to possibly be used in future chapters. And then I fiddle with the remaining third for several days.

Also, as a heads up, when I started posting this fic, I had already been writing it for a few weeks. So I had a bunch of shit that I just hadn't ordered or tied together yet already pre-written. I have now run out of almost all of that pre-written stuff, so my sporadic posting might get a little less frequent.

Chapter 14: Grey

Summary:

Erwin has several moments of introspection and Levi pointedly does not introspect.

Notes:

TW super brief mention of possible attempted rape

 

 

           Erwin is actually quite proud of himself when he comes up with the idea. The day after Hange cleans the cut on Levi’s leg, Erwin wakes up to an empty bed that wasn’t empty when he went to sleep. Levi meets him in his office for breakfast and hardly eats anything. Erwin knows he barely ate anything the day before either and he frowns, but is hesitant to say anything after the debacle with the soup and ration bar outside the wall.

            The day goes on. Levi sits around and reads and does paperwork since he can’t train until the stitches come out. The entire time he has a dejected, blank look on his face and a noticeable limp when he walks.

            At night, Levi and he are in Erwin’s room, but Levi’s not changed and doesn’t have his clothes with him, so Erwin’s under the impression that he’s not staying. Levi doesn’t look any better than he had that morning – if anything, something is worse. He’s unnaturally still and doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to the book in his hands any longer. Erwin is about to ask him to stay again, because it’s that pained but calm look that scares him, when he gets a better idea.

            “Levi, can I give you a massage?” Erwin says.

            Levi’s head jerks up and he stares at Erwin like he’s crazy. “What?” he says.

            “A massage,” Erwin says.

            “Why the hell would you ask that?” Levi says, settling back against the chair again, frowning.

            “You look tense. It’s been a rough week,” he says.

            (Erwin thinks he’s very clever actually – yes, it would be weird for Erwin to pet Levi’s hair or even hold him the way that Hange does, but he can do this. He’s not sure why this is more acceptable – the justification of easing stress and physical pain rather than just offering comfort?)

            Levi frowns. Erwin hadn’t exactly expected him to agree immediately, but he’s surprised by the sudden glint of fear in Levi’s expression. Yet he doesn’t say anything for a long moment.

            “Weird offer,” Levi says.

            “Is that a yes?” Erwin says.

            Again, the hesitation surprises Erwin. He’s expected either a flat no or a flippant yes. He’s thrown off by the stretching hesitation.

            “No,” Levi says finally.

            “Why not?” Erwin says. He’s frowning now. “I don’t mind.”

            Levi looks down. He clearly wants to say yes, Erwin thinks. It’s the same concealed longing on his face as when he’s in pain and Erwin takes his hand or when they sit in bed and Levi looks over at him without turning his head.

            Levi takes another long hesitation, and then he finally looks up. “I don’t think I can,” he says.

            Erwin frowns. “You don’t think you can?”

            Levi looks down, then up. “When I met with the doctor in Sina for my back – she… when she set the pain off, she said she was going to try massaging it afterwards, and it made it worse. And then she wouldn’t stop.”

            Erwin feels it like a punch. Feels it like something draining from him, all at once. Levi says the last part quieter, and there’s a burning vulnerability to it, underlined in trust, that he’s willing to say the words to Erwin. Erwin knows they’re not easy for him, despite the cursory nature.

            The last thing he wants to do is trigger one of Levi’s bouts of pain. Especially so soon after just having one.

            “Oh, Levi, I’m sorry,” he says.

            Levi looks at the ground before he meets Erwin’s eyes again. “I think my shoulders would be okay,” he says. “It’s my lower back – when I’ve gotten the attacks suddenly it’s because something’s hit my lower back, on the left side.”

            His expression is unreadable again. “I’ll go carefully,” Erwin says. “You’ll tell me if you feel any pain.”

            Levi stands up and takes his jacket off. He undoes the straps to his gear next, letting them hang down at his waist, before pulling his shirt off. Erwin looks down at the swinging straps, the waist portion still firmly attached, the bands winding down his thighs and calves – Levi’s taken his boots off, he always does before entering Erwin’s room, though never in his office – and he thinks that if he can’t massage Levi’s back and shoulders, he could still massage Levi’s legs if he were to finish getting undressed.

            He wonders if that would be crossing a line. The thought is fleeting. He can’t even find a way to touch Levi’s hair, and he’s thinking about massaging his legs?

            When Erwin looks back up, Levi is looking back at him, standing. He’s staring – face still expressionless, but keenly looking at Erwin – it’s the most focused his eyes have looked all day and Erwin’s startled for a moment.

            “Lie down,” he says, gesturing at the bed.

            Levi walks to it and then hesitates, one knee raised slightly, like he’s about to get onto the bed. He stops.

            “I’ll get your sheets dirty,” he says, gesturing at the pants and gear straps he’s still wearing – both of which are still impeccably clean, as Levi has not been training today.

            “It’s fine, they’re plenty clean,” Erwin says.

            Levi hesitates again, looking at the bed, but then finally gets onto it. He settles into the middle of it, lying on his stomach with his head between his arms.

            Erwin kneels onto the bed and then pauses. It’s been a long time since he’s done this for someone, and it would be easiest to straddle Levi’s thighs. But Erwin thinks about having someone large pinning down your thighs while in a position which previously resulted in excruciating pain, coupled with Levi’s panic at being held down and the pure awkwardness of the position and Erwin decides that it is probably not the best idea. So he kneels next to Levi on the bed instead.

            He starts at Levi’s shoulders, applying very gentle pressure, moving carefully.

            Levi makes an impatient noise below him. “God, I’m not a doll, Erwin, you can press harder than that.”

            “I don’t want to hurt you,” Erwin says, giving a bit more pressure.

            Levi rolls his shoulders a bit. “You won’t,” he says, “not up there. Just – nothing sudden.”

            “Nothing sudden,” Erwin says. As Levi’s arms untense, Erwin suspects the directive is more to do with Levi’s anxiety than to safeguard against pain – at least while Erwin’s only working over his shoulder blades.

            And Levi is tense. He’s very, very tense. Erwin’s not surprised at all. Erwin keeps working over the same area, gradually pressing harder and more deeply, and Levi gradually relaxes.

            “Shit, Erwin,” he says after a couple minutes. “You’re good at this.” He sounds surprised, and Erwin laughs lightly. “Why are you good at this?”

            “When I was a cadet I dislocated my shoulder,” Erwin says, “Marie, Nile’s wife, used to massage it for me – she taught me how.”

            “Shit,” Levi says. “How old were you?”

            “Fourteen,” Erwin says. He remembers the pain, of gritting his teeth and stubbornly feigning indifference until they had to pop it back in – there was no feigning anything then.

            “Dislocated mine at thirteen,” Levi says. “Jumping from a building while getting chased by an MP.”

            Erwin can’t help but smile. “Maybe it was the same guy. The cadet I was sparring with that popped mine out went on to become an MP.”

            “Mm, was a woman,” Levi says.

            Erwin presses at a stubborn knot and Levi jolts for a second. Erwin freezes.

            “Fuucckk, keep going,” Levi says. So Erwin digs his thumbs in and keeps working until the knot starts to release. Erwin feels the tension run from Levi’s back.

            “I’m going to move a little lower. Tell me if you feel any pain,” Erwin says. He just moves down to the middle of Levi’s back – stays away from the lower left side, like he’d said.

            They fall into silence while Erwin works. He wonders why he’s never thought of this before – but then again, it’s a pretty intimate exchange.

            And yet even though Erwin has his hands all over Levi’s back, even though he presses hard into the muscle there, presses carefully around the knobs of his spine, can feel the tension and power of Levi’s back under his fingertips, the heat from his skin, it somehow does not feel as intimate as simply holding Levi’s hand does.

            He supposes it’s a testament, and Erwin feels a bit bitter at it, that Erwin can only manage to hold his hand when Levi’s in pain, that it is something unallowed otherwise. And for a moment Erwin is surprised at his own feelings, because he shouldn’t feel bitter at not being able to hold Levi’s hand whenever he wishes to comfort him – irritated maybe, or regretful, but bitter? Erwin’s not sure what to make at the sudden emotion.

            Levi groans as Erwin teases out another knot.

            “You should set up a shop or something,” Levi says, voice relaxed in a way Erwin hasn’t heard in what feels like a long time. “You could make good money. People would pay for this.”

            “I’ll keep it in mind,” Erwin says. “I’m going to move lower. Tell me if I should stop.”

            He edges down, presses lighter as he goes carefully to Levi’s lower back. The base of his palms brush the waistline of Levi’s pants, the worn leather of the belts.

            Levi makes a disgruntled noise when Erwin only applies light pressure, so he goes a bit harder. It continues for another couple minutes until Levi tenses all at once.

            “Stop,” he says, clipped, loud. Erwin pulls back, freezing. He waits a moment, and then Levi relaxes again, before giving a shudder.

            Erwin carefully puts his hands back against Levi’s skin, and Levi shudders again. Erwin watches Levi’s hands clench.

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says. “Pain?”

            Levi shakes his head.

            “Good,” Erwin says.

            He goes back to massaging Levi’s upper back, until he’s relaxed again. Then Erwin stops, leans back, and gets off the bed. He stands to the side and tilts his head down, and without thinking puts his right hand on Levi’s back again, this time just to rub up and down lightly. Levi opens his eyes to peer sideways at him for a moment, before shutting them again.

            “You didn’t tell me I wouldn’t want to move afterwards.”

            Erwin laughs again, before he pulls his hand back. “I’m glad you feel better,” he says. I’m glad you enjoyed it sounds strange.

 

 

 

 

            Levi is bored.

            The stitches wouldn’t be out on his leg yet for another two days, and Hange had strictly barred him from any kind of training until then. The day after she cleaned and re-stitched the wound, Levi had woken up with a throbbing pain in his leg and an aching stiffness. He reluctantly agreed that Erwin had been right – he should have rested his leg instead of stubbornly cleaning his office.

            There was only so much paperwork he could do, only so much reading, only so much observing of recruits. He’d even stooped to tagging along with Hange for a couple of her experiments, right up until she almost blew his head off with what appeared to be some kind of grapeshot rocket launcher.

            Which is how he came to be sitting in the small survey corps library with a math textbook in front of him.

            “Levi, how in the world are you getting these numbers?” Erwin had said, when Levi had dropped his halfway completed estimates for different supplies they’d need for the coming winter on Erwin’s desk. Erwin had given it to him after he’d found Levi terrorizing some of the new recruits, trying to give him something to do. Erwin’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

            “I took last years supplies and adjusted it for the smaller number of soldiers we have this year,” Levi said.

            Erwin stared at the page again before looking up. “Levi,” he said, “do you know how to divide?”

            “Divide?” Levi said, raising an eyebrow.

            “Yes, division,” Erwin said.

            “That backwards multiplication shit?” he said.

            And Erwin’s eyebrows had gone up, and then his mouth twitched, and then he laughed, and Levi scowled.

            So there Levi is, trying to learn division.

            “Stupid fucking ratios, if it were a fraction why the hell don’t they just fucking call it that?” he mumbles to himself, glaring down at the textbook.

            Levi knew how to add, and he knew how to subtract, and he understood the premise of multiplication even if he didn’t really know how to calculate it with large numbers, and Levi had really thought that that was all you really needed to know.

            Apparently, he was wrong. Apparently, you were supposed to do something with ratios or fractions or something when adjusting supplies counts based on a differing number of soldiers, and apparently fractions really meant you were dividing, even though to adjust the supplies counts you had to multiply the fraction-ratio. Apparently, there was a shit ton more math that Levi hadn’t even known existed.

            Levi slams the textbook shut and marches back to Erwin’s office. He throws it down on Erwin’s desk when he gets there.

            “Get someone else to do the supplies lists, I’m useless,” Levi says.

            “I hadn’t expected you to be able to learn it all in a day,” Erwin says.

            “Then why did you give me the shitty book?”

            “Math is a useful skill,” Erwin says, picking up the book and placing it to the side.

            Levi scowls at him.

            “It’s good to know you aren’t exceptional at everything you try,” Erwin says.

            “What are you talking about, I’m shit at lots of things,” Levi says.

            Erwin raises an eyebrow at him. “Like what?”

            “Human interaction,” Levi says flatly.

            “Ah, but that is a choice,” Erwin says. “You make no effort. You interact fine when you want to.”

            “Hm,” Levi says. “My head is fucked up. What did Shitty Glasses say to me – that I’m not the most mentally stable person?”

            “That’s a health flaw, not a skill you’re bad at,” Erwin says. He leans back in his chair, an amused smile on his face.

            Levi tries to think – things that he is bad at. Sure, he’s an exceptional fighter, but that’s all. “I’m shit at reading,” Levi says, “my handwriting is terrible.”

            “You’re perfectly fine at reading now,” Erwin says. “You picked it up remarkably quickly for the limited time you spent learning. And your handwriting is not bad, it’s the closest thing to print that I have ever seen.”

            It wasn’t all flowy though – the calligraphy style which Levi hated and was the mark of good penmanship in high society – though Levi supposes he never tried to make his handwriting look like that.

            Levi… can’t really think of anything else. He cleans very well. He’s quite proud of his ability to make tea. He wouldn’t say he’s a great cook, but he has never cooked very much, and when he does it’s fine. He can sew well. Moblit had complimented his sketches the few times Hange had asked him to draw something that he’d seen (Hange can’t draw anything to save her goddamn life unless it’s technical specs). He’s good with lock picks, better at thieving, and when he needs to be, a very good conman.

            “I’m good at fighting and stealing,” Levi says, “there just aren’t that many other skills that I’ve tried.”

            “You are a very skilled man, Levi,” Erwin says. “Allow yourself to be remarkable.”

            “Tch,” Levi says, because he doesn’t really know how to respond to that. He is a remarkable fighter. A remarkable man? Being Humanity’s Strongest does not make him a remarkable man. Just a remarkable titan killer.

 

 

            As his foray as a mathematician has ended, Levi is, again, bored. He sits in Erwin’s room, on his chair and reads a book about plants that Hange gave him instead. In hindsight, he’s not sure why he thought this would be more interesting than the math book. Less frustrating, sure, but the slight variations in properties of ten different strains of the same herb is proving to be mind numbing.

            He looks up at where Erwin is diligently doing paperwork. Levi’s not actually sure how Erwin has so much paperwork to do. Sure, Levi has to write reports and letters but he never has nearly as much to do as Erwin. The amount of politicking and garnering of financial support that Erwin does is both baffling and oddly mysterious to Levi. He has neither the patience nor the social aptitude for it, despite what Erwin might say.

            Erwin’s head is tilted down as he writes, occasionally consulting a different paper. Every once in a while he sits up straight, closing his eyes and rolling his neck after having it bent down while writing.

            (Once, when they’d had a few of their contacts over for a friendly (“this is to get on their good side, Levi, you will not cheat”) game of cards, Furlan had joked and said that a bored Levi was even more dangerous than an angry Levi.

            Levi looked at him over his cards, the ace he had hidden under the table visible to himself but no one else. “I think there are several dead men who would disagree with you,” Levi said.

            Furlan shook his head. There was a sharpness to his smile and Levi kept his look blank. “No, when you’re bored you stop thinking things through,” he said, “and don’t think about the long term.”

            So maybe Furlan saw the card he’d slipped under the table.

            One of the men laughed. “That just sounds like he gets a bit rash, not that he’s more dangerous.”

            “I don’t care much about bodies piling up when I’m not thinking long term,” Levi said. With a quick slight of hand, he switched a six for the ace. He smiled at Furlan, who frowned at him.)

            Levi looks at Erwin, Erwin’s head tilted down, looking intently at the paper, his pen moving quickly. He’d taken his jacket and the top half of his gear off. His bolo tie hung down slightly because of the way he was tilted forward, away from the white button up shirt he wore. He’d been utterly engrossed in his work for over an hour now, Levi having used Erwin's bath, changed, and then started flipping idly through his book and Erwin scribbling and scribbling.

            Levi is bored.

            “Do you have anything else for me to do?” he says, flipping another page. There is an abysmally short section on tea leaves which Levi has read twice now.

            “Not until Mike brings me the gear inventory counts tomorrow,” Erwin says without pausing in his work. “Then we will need to contact all of our manufacturers and merchant traders.”

            “Have you heard the rumor about Mike and Nanaba?” Levi says. It pops into his mind and he's not usually one to care about or pay any attention to gossip but he's bored and Erwin's there and Levi's curious suddenly and not about Mike and Nanaba. 

            “Rumor?” Erwin says. He huffs and smiles slightly without looking up, pen still moving across paper. “It’s hardly a rumor.”

            “It’s true then? Mike tell you?” Levi holds the book open in his hands, legs crossed, resting his head on his hand, elbow braced on the armrest of the chair. It has been floating around the mess hall and the soldier’s barracks for a couple weeks now, and Levi doesn't usually notice rumors but Gunther and Petra had been arguing about it.

            “He might as well have,” Erwin says.

            “You don’t care?” Levi says. “About the difference in rank?” Levi keeps his features in the same light nonchalance, a hint of curiosity, but without real intrigue or interest.

            Erwin glances up at him. “I hardly think it will be a problem,” he says.

            His voice is steady. Levi narrows his eyes. “You don’t care about fraternization rules at all?” he says. Levi’s not sure if he’s surprised or not, but he’s interested. Erwin’s tone is dismissive and there’s something about it that sounds off. The disinterest seems out of place and Levi can’t tell if Erwin’s feigning it or if the it comes from somewhere Levi hadn’t thought of.

            Erwin looks up again and raises an eyebrow, his pen stilling. “Levi, when have I ever been one to play by the rules? If I was interested in rules then you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

            Levi lets his mouth flick up into something just below a smirk. “What, you mean in your bedroom after dark, both of us out of uniform? After I took a bath in your room?”

            Erwin turns to him with a hard stare, almost a scowl. “You know very well that’s not what I meant,” Erwin says. “I was referring to your unorthodox recruitment.”

            “Ah, of course,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks at him for another moment. It’s that calculating, analytical look that Levi is so familiar with, but this time there’s something of suspicion in there too.

            (“It’s a good thing you have friends to remind you that bodies piling up can be a problem,” Furlan said to him, eyes hard.

            “Maybe those friends should focus more on keeping me from getting bored then,” Levi said, smiling, subtly bending the top corner of his card, a tiny crease at the very edge.)

            Levi doesn’t look away.

            “Yes,” Erwin says, and then he finally looks back down at the paperwork. “It hardly matters anyway,” Erwin says, still looking down at his desk. “The annals are actually pretty vague when it comes to fraternization. As long as it doesn’t involve a recruit and a direct commanding officer, or there appears to be coercion involved, there are no strict guidelines.” He pauses, and then glances up. “Especially at the top of the hierarchy.”

            “You seem to know a lot about it,” Levi says. “You fucking someone then Erwin? Marlene? Ada?”

            “That would be very unprofessional,” Erwin says with the same expressionless look.

            “So you’ve never had anything with another soldier? No one?”

            “Certainly not since I became Commander,” Erwin says.

            “That’s a very long time, Erwin,” Levi says, one eyebrow raised. “Unless you have someone in town.”

            Erwin sticks him with a hard look. “As I do recall, you were very adverse to discussing your sex life, Levi, so what exactly is the sudden interest in mine?”

            Levi ignores him. “You’d never have sex with one of your soldiers? Under any circumstances?”

            “Apparently I was not clear,” Erwin says, with an unimpressed drawl. “As you declined to discuss sex with me, I am also declining to discuss it with you.”

            “Hm, fine then,” Levi says with an almost smile.

 

 

            The next day they are sitting in Erwin’s office when Levi interrupts Erwin’s work from where he sits on his red chair. Levi’s been bouncing back and forth between restless flippancy and melancholy reflection for the past couple days – Erwin has no idea where yesterday’s conversation came from, and he’s equally surprised by today’s question, though much more unsure about which mood Levi’s in now.

            “Have you ever killed anyone, Erwin?” Levi asks.

            It’s sudden, and Levi says it without looking at him, says it almost casually. Erwin is surprised by the question. Levi is one of the only people who can really surprise him, and he does it so easily, like it’s nothing. It seems that no matter how well Erwin comes to know Levi, he still can never predict his behavior, predict what he’ll say.

            “Yes,” Erwin says, quietly. As the surprise fades the familiar swath of despair and dark guilt comes up.

            Levi looks over at him sharply. He had not been expecting that answer, Erwin realizes.

            Erwin waits for Levi to ask a follow up question, but Levi hesitates. He narrows his eyes a bit more at Erwin, and it almost looks like he’s worried, like he’s treading carefully.

            “I didn’t know that,” Levi says. He pauses again. “Who was it?”

            “They,” Erwin says. Levi looks at him, confused. “Who were they,” Erwin says. “More than one.”

            Levi’s eyes are still narrowed. “Soldiers eaten by titans don’t count,” Levi says. “You may be commander, but it was the titan that killed them.”

            Erwin shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I hung one. Sliced the heads off two more.”

            Levi’s eyes go completely wide and shocked.

            “Desertion,” Erwin says. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it before.”

            “I know people were executed for attempting to desert,” Levi says. “I didn’t know it was you who killed them.”

            “One of them was while you were here,” Erwin says. “When wall Maria first fell. I’m surprised that didn’t get around more.”

            “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly the most social person,” Levi says, “and I don’t put particular stock in rumors.”

            “Well, that one is true,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t know how many people I’ve killed,” Levi says.

            And Erwin knows, or at least he assumed, that Levi had killed people while in the underground. He had been wanted for murder among many other crimes. But for a second he’s surprised – had Levi really killed that many people that he doesn’t even know the number?

            “I didn’t usually stick around to find out if they were dead or just unconscious,” Levi says, “and even if you only cut someone’s arm or leg, they can still die of infection. I know I killed at least eleven people, but it’s probably much higher.”

            Levi doesn’t look at him. Erwin can’t decide if he’s surprised or not. Maybe it’s that he shouldn’t be surprised, that logically he had assumed that Levi would have killed at least a handful, if not more, but he’d never dwelled on it, never wanted to really think about it.

            “Does it disgust you?” Levi says.

            He sounds tired, apathetic. Erwin doesn’t believe the tone.

            “No,” Erwin says. “It’s still a bit shocking to hear, but no. I have no idea what life is like underground, and you are a very different man than the boy I picked up there.”

            “I was sixteen, not twelve,” Levi says. “Don’t make it sound so dramatic.”

            “Who were they?” Erwin asks, and he cannot say what possesses him to ask, because he’s not sure he really wants to know, and yet he feels like he has to ask – that to not ask would be to try to erase a part of Levi’s life, or worse, to ignore it in favor of letting Levi alone deal with it.

            Levi looks sideways at him. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question, Erwin?”

            “If you want to tell me,” Erwin says evenly. He can see the faces of the three soldiers he’s killed in front of him. He thinks that he really shouldn’t feel any more guilty for them than for all of the other soldiers he’s sent to their deaths. The first person he’d ever had to sentence to death for desertion was hanged, and at the time he’d thought that was about the guiltiest and sickest he would ever feel, and then two years later he had been faced with it in the field, in front of a squad of soldiers who were also looking for the first opportunity to desert, and he had killed the man with his blade.

            It had been justified – absolutely necessary. An example had to be made if he were to have any hope of keeping the terrified soldiers following him, but it had been sickening. It sickened him how easily he had done it the most. How easily that, once in the field, once in the role, he had quickly, with cold and efficient calculation, realized what needed to be done and carried it out. Erwin wonders if the guilt he feels weighs on Levi as well.

            Levi doesn’t look guilty. But Erwin knows better than to believe apathy when it shows up on Levi’s face. Erwin has come to know that apathy is Levi’s favorite mask.

            (He wonders about that for a moment, because Erwin wears masks too, he knows he does, but his are cordiality or stern resolution, depending on the situation. Those have always been calculated masks, used to manipulate people, to get the reactions he wants. Levi’s mask is wholly different in its intention. The apathy is both innately defensive and somehow more aggressive, so oddly and so much like a weapon.)

            “I killed the first one when I was ten,” Levi says. “I still don’t know if I had pissed him off somehow or if he wanted to get at Kenny or if he was trying to rape me, but he pinned me down and held me there and it scared the shit out of me. Stabbed him to death.”

            Ten years old, Erwin thinks. It is all he can think. Ten years old.

            “An MP with Kenny when I was eleven. One guy who jumped me when I was twelve, another when I was thirteen who I fought in an illegal fighting ring. Two guys in a turf war. Another MP. She had a gun pointed at Furlan’s head, going to shoot. A guy who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and kept bothering Isabel. A guard at a robbery. A gang member who came to kill me and Furlan. A loan shark we were hired to kill.”

            Levi lists them calmly, methodically. And again, Levi doesn’t sound guilty, doesn’t look like he feels guilty, but he lists them too smoothly, too quickly. He knows exactly how many people he’s killed, exactly how, has them all remembered in a list. Erwin doesn’t think Levi feels regret over the killings, but he doesn’t believe he’s nearly as indifferent towards them as he sounds.

            “Hm,” Erwin says. It’s about what he expected. Though the ages – Levi was in a fighting ring at thirteen? Erwin knows Levi’s strong, but how had he possibly won anything that young? The last one catches him too. He’d been a hitman?

            There is so much that he doesn’t know about Levi. Erwin remembers what he had thought, almost two years ago, about how Levi had cut his life in two, had started over somewhere between coming up above ground for the first time and the following months after Furlan and Isabel’s death.

            Erwin thinks about how rarely Levi ever talked about things underground, or about Isabel and Furlan. Erwin thinks about how much and how suddenly that seems to be changing, how Levi has started bringing them up, bringing his life underground up. Erwin is curious, but mostly he thinks that it is probably good for Levi.

            Levi looks at him. “Well?” he says.

            And Erwin is still shocked but he keeps his expression under control. “It’s a lot younger than I was expecting,” Erwin says. “But it’s nothing I would ever hold against you, Levi.” He means the words.

            “Hm,” Levi says. “Any other morbid questions?”

            “You brought this one up,” Erwin says.

            “I thought you’d say no,” Levi says.

            “Good to know that I surprise you too sometimes.”

            Levi looks up sharply at that. “I surprise you now?”

            Erwin smiles. “Constantly.”

            There’s a long silence, and then Levi looks away from him, looks over at the wall.

           “You know, it was Furlan’s plan to actually go through with it all,” Levi says. “To actually try to steal the document from you and kill you?” He pauses, and then looks over at Erwin again, meets his eyes.

            Erwin grew up reading novels, has always loved to read, especially as a child, and frequently in the novels and stories he read there were aristocratic ladies meant to be beautiful and charming, often described with blonde or honey brown hair and wide grey eyes. And Erwin always found it strange how they were described with grey eyes, because no one really had grey eyes, did they? They just had light, pale blue eyes which might from far away look a bit grey. It always seemed an exaggeration, a romanticism, and Erwin had thought it was strange that the authors would romanticize grey eyes of all things – weren’t blue and green eyes much prettier? It seemed a very strange, and anyway unrealistic, thing to romanticize.

            Erwin looks at Levi’s grey eyes – not blue, but grey. His were the first that Erwin had ever seen that he thought truly matched the description. They are certainly not wide and he certainly does not have blonde or honey brown hair. He is not aristocratic and is about as far from charming as possible.

            But he has grey eyes, narrow and cutting, intense even with faked apathy, and Erwin understands now.

            “You called me the leader down there, do you remember? You assumed I was their leader, but it was really Furlan’s plan,” Levi says.

            Levi sinks down just a bit more in the chair, looking ahead at the wall again for a moment. He bites at the inside of his lip, teeth visible for only a second. Erwin is looking at him though. He catches the movement. It’s a strange kind of nervousness that seems to have taken hold of Levi tonight. Although Erwin supposes that Levi always seems to behave strangely, really only differently, when he talks about his friends and the underground.

            “He thought we were both going crazy,” Levi says. “Me and Isabel. He wanted to get us all to the surface so bad. He thought I was turning into a killer like Kenny.”

            Erwin frowns. Levi looks down, staring at his legs where they’re still thrown over the arm of the chair.

            “Were you?” Erwin says. He’s not sure how to respond, knows of Kenny only from the small bits Levi’s given him – that he was a caretaker, for a brief period, that Levi suspects he might have been his father – and that he is the infamous Kenny the Ripper.

            “Maybe,” Levi says. He’s quiet for a long moment. “I didn’t have to kill the guy bothering Isabel. There were three of them, kept picking on her. I wasn’t even that angry. She came back one day, banged up, crying, and I went out that night and found them. I could have just cut him, scared them. One kept pissing me off so I killed him instead. I didn’t have to. The loan shark I killed – I took that job a couple months before you found us. I wouldn’t have taken it a year before. It’s not like he was some saint but I wouldn’t take hit jobs. I never exactly had qualms about hurting people when I had to, but I was getting more and more violent.”

            “You certainly didn’t seem to have a problem taking the hit job on me,” Erwin says.

            “Hm,” Levi says, “only after I met you. I didn’t like it from the start – Furlan’s idea, remember? Then you pushed me onto the ground, started your high and mighty speech, shoved my face in sewer water, and gave us an ultimatum. Did you think I’d like you?”

            There’s a note of humor in his voice but Erwin winces at the mention of the sewer water again. He feels the same distaste as he’d felt thinking about the desertion executions. Erwin had been cruel. It had been calculated.

            “I wanted you to hate me,” Erwin says, admits, and it feels exactly like that, an admission. “I knew what you had been offered, but you fought so hard to get away. I thought maybe you weren’t going to take it, and I wanted you to follow through.”

            Levi looks at him, and it’s that apathy again, and yet Erwin can read it. You got me angry to manipulate me, Levi’s eyes seem to say. I know it’s not the only time you’ve manipulated me.

            And a sour taste fills Erwin’s mouth, and he blinks and isn’t sure if he’s really reading it on Levi’s expression or if it’s just a reflection from his own conscious. Yes. He’s used Levi’s emotions to manipulate him for his own ends. He did a remarkable job of it in Levi’s recruitment, and then in getting him to stay even after his friends died.

            He’s not proud of it. It sinks in his stomach.

            “Was it being on the surface that stopped it then?” Erwin says. “Stopped you from getting more violent then?”

            “I never said I stopped getting more violent,” Levi says. “I just stopped directing it at humans.”

            “You don’t seem particularly more violent now than you did eight years ago,” Erwin says.

            “Do I?” Levi says, almost smiling. It’s a wry, bitter smile.

            “I’d say you seem less violent,” Erwin says.

            “Maybe less angry,” Levi says.

            But Levi’s violence has never hinged on anger. Levi is his most violent when he is calm, cool – in control. When things are calculated. But maybe that control is just another kind of anger - maybe it's closer to grief.

            (It is when Erwin is most violent too.)

            “When did it start?” Erwin says, and again he’s not sure what posses him to ask. “The cleaning.”

            Levi lets out a long breath. He shifts on the chair, throws his arm out over the backrest. “You do always come back to that,” he says, under his breath, almost too quietly for Erwin to hear. Erwin opens his mouth to say something, doesn’t want Levi to think that that’s all he cares about, but Levi talks first. “Around when I was twelve or thirteen. When I got off the streets.”

            “You lived on the streets?” Erwin says, frowning.

            “More or less,” Levi says. “I didn’t have a permanent residence from the time Kenny left when I was eleven until I was thirteen and started living with Furlan. There’s lots of abandoned buildings in the underground, and Kenny had an old shack I could stay in – sometimes in winter I’d scrape together enough money for a month of rent for a room somewhere above a shop or an inn.”

            There really is so much I don’t know, Erwin thinks. (Your own fault, follows.)

            “Do you know why it started then?” Erwin says.

            Levi shrugs. “I wasn’t living in dirt anymore? I could finally try to be clean? I don’t know. It started with realizing how good it feels to be clean and to be able to wash whenever I wanted and that turned into wanting the space I’m living in to be clean and then suddenly it was intolerable otherwise.” He pauses. “It got worse over the next couple years. It got worse here, when I was still in the barracks. I wasn’t used to having to live with others, and it was never clean enough. There was mold in the showers. Took me a long time to get used to not preparing my own food.” Levi lets out a harsh laugh. “And you know how well I do at that now.”

            “Do you think you’re doing better now?” Erwin says.

            Levi hasn’t seriously hurt himself in a couple years, Erwin is pretty sure. There’s still times where Erwin sees his hands pink and knuckles bloody but the more deliberate self-harm, besides the one cut he’d made after Artur’s death, has been over two years ago now. Levi’s had a shit month but before Artur and Dorcia’s deaths he seemed to be doing better.

            Levi shrugs. “I don’t know.” He looks away.

            No, Erwin thinks, with his stomach sinking. Levi’s body language tells him that his response is clearly no, I'm not doing any better now.

            A shit month. An especially shit week, Erwin thinks. Maybe Levi would have answered differently a month ago. Erwin is hoping he’ll answer differently in another month from now.

 

 

            “Has Erwin ever had a girlfriend or someone?” Levi says to Hange, a couple days later while they’re in the officer’s common room and Levi is buzzed but not drunk yet. They’re drinking a bottle of some sweet alcohol Hange procured. It doesn’t taste bad but it’s not like anything Levi’s ever drank before. Hange has a habit of collecting strange things, and that extends to her alcohol collection. Levi’s still not cleared to train, and the restlessness and boredom has only gotten worse. When Hange had asked Levi if he wanted to try it, he’d agreed.

            Hange’s eyes go wide and still for a moment when he asks. Levi frowns. “Oi, what’s with the look?”

            Hange grins. “No, no one, well – I think he had a thing with Marie, Nile’s wife, while they were still cadets. I heard a rumor there was a team leader when Erwin was an officer.”

            “Who?” Levi says.

            He tries to imagine the type of person that Erwin would go for. He’s still eighty percent sure that Erwin is gay. He wonders if Erwin’s so uptight that he’s never had anything with a guy. He wonders if Erwin is the type of man who would insist on waiting until marriage anyway.

            He thinks about what Erwin said about rules though and decides that no, he is not the type.

            Hange shrugs. “Dunno. Was before I joined.”

            Levi takes another sip of his drink. Sickly sweet with a burn down his throat. He can feel the sugars on his teeth.

            (Sitting up on the rooftop of the barracks, two bottles of wine between them, the sun slowly setting. Levi’s eyes catch Erwin moving across the grounds below and Levi tracks his movements, watches as he walks towards the main building from the mess hall. Sunlight lights up his blonde hair until shadows cross over him.

            “Got a thing for the commander, Levi?” Furlan says.

            Levi’s head snaps up as Isabel spits out some wine. “What the hell, Furlan, of course big bro doesn’t have a thing for that pig,” she says.

            Furlan gives him a wry smile, eyes light with the alcohol. “Bet that’s the whole reason you decided to go along with the plan, huh? Once you saw him.”

            Levi gives him a shove that has Furlan laughing, almost falling over. “I’m gonna kill that blonde bastard,” Levi says.

            “Yeah, right after you fuck him,” Furlan says.)

            Levi recalls the memory almost in the back of his mind, somewhere separate from the wooden table under his palm, the cool glass against his fingers. He could have, at the time, honestly have said he had never had a thought of fucking Erwin.

            Levi takes another long sip of his drink.

 

           

Notes:

Somehow my slow burns always wind up much slower than I mean them too.

I actually wrote the scene where they finally get together... and then realized it was unrealistic in how quickly it escalated. So that got cut up and reworked.

We're getting close?

Chapter 15: Floating

Summary:

The week from hell turns into the week and a half from hell.

The Ackerbond makes a brief appearance.

Notes:

Well this one took forever. I probably could have posted this two weeks ago but I kept trying to add more. Oh well, as always, I hope you enjoy.

 

           A few days later, once the stitches are out but before his leg’s completely healed, he’s drilling with ODM gear with his and some of Hange’s squad (not Hange – she’s away meeting with one of the factory owners that produces their gear) trying to teach Eld, Oluo, Moblit and two other people from Hange’s squad how to use a reverse grip. It allows for his spin maneuvers, which can be very effective, but the only other person who Levi has seen successfully use a similar style of fighting is Mike.

            People as small as Levi usually can’t perform the spin maneuvers because of the momentum needed – at the same time, they require a good amount of flexibility and great agility. Petra is too small, Gunther is not flexible enough. Levi’s uncertain about Oluo’s ability as well, but he’d been so adamant about trying that Levi had acquiesced.

            The problem is that a lot of his maneuvers are difficult to practice fully on the wooden titan props rather than on actual titans. While demonstrating one of them, Levi overextends one arm just slightly, and feels the muscle over his shoulder blade cramp up for a few moments. It fades quickly though and Levi thinks nothing of it until about ten minutes later creeping pain starts up his back.

            Oh fucking hell, Levi thinks.

            They’re out too far into the woods – Levi will never make it back to the barracks in time, especially if he can’t use ODM to swing his way there. Hange isn’t there. He doesn’t have any of the goddamned painkiller on him again.

            Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thinks. No – no, he’s not fucking doing this again. Levi can feel himself tensing up and he’s gone still suddenly, standing on a tree branch.

            “Captain Levi?” Eld says.

            Levi’s head snaps up. “Eld,” he says. “Go get Commander Erwin, tell him I’ll meet him at the east storage building.” It was the closest one to where he currently was, still out in the forest.

            It’s going to take at least fifteen minutes for Eld to get back to the base and then who knows how long to actually find Erwin and then Erwin will need to go get Levi’s painkiller and then either a horse or ODM gear, another what, twenty minutes, more? And then another twenty to actually get to the storage building.

            He’s looking at around an hour until Erwin gets back to him at best and Levi’s stomach sinks. Images of the wagon ride just a week ago outside the wall comes back, lying down on the crates, screaming, leather between his teeth from the pain. No, he’s not fucking doing this again.

            “The rest of you, reconvene with the rest of the group for training,” Levi says. “Not you, Moblit.”

            Moblit stops as Oluo, Eld, and the two others from Hange’s squad take off, looking confused, but obeying his orders.

            “Give me your flask,” Levi says.

            Moblit’s eyes go wide. “My – I’m sorry, my – my flask, sir?”

            “I know you have one on you, give it to me,” Levi says.

            Moblit always has a flask on him. He thinks he’s discrete about it, but he is really not that subtle. That being said, he either never actually gets drunk or he is a very, very high-functioning drunk. As Moblit essentially plays the role of Hange’s self-preservation (of which she totally lacks herself), Levi is not inclined to deny him his alcohol.

            But right now Hange is not around and Levi knows he has it.

            Moblit shifts nervously. “I – uh, I don’t know what you mean, Captain Levi.”

            “Goddamnit, Moblit, give me the damn flask,” Levi says, holding out his hand.

            Moblit pulls a flask out of an inside pocket on his jacket and hands it over.

 

 

            By the time the pain completely hits, Levi has managed to get himself to the east storage building and to drink the entire contents of Moblit’s flask. It was nearly full, and Levi estimates that it was about five shots of whiskey.

            This is a mistake.

            The alcohol makes his head spin and softens the pain only marginally. His stomach turns from how quickly he’d drank it. It’s every bit as awful as it always is when neither Hange or Erwin (or Eld) can sit with him, when he’s alone instead. He feels like he’s suffocating, just barely hanging onto reality. The alcohol makes it worse, makes everything swim in a hazy blur. His stomach rolls and he feels nauseas. He drank too much too fast. Levi cries. There’s no one around to see it anyway.

            It feels like a very long time before Erwin shows up. A very long time in which Levi feels disconnected from his body, just a mass of pain and crawling discomfort and panic. He’s alone and his vision is blacking out and that leaves him in a drifting void alone. It feels like dying, like slipping from reality, like his body is deteriorating with him inside, rotting away.

Erwin moves in quietly when he gets there, and then sits on the ground next to Levi. He opens his mouth, but then stops, his eyes slipping over Levi, the flask at his side. He can smell the alcohol.

Levi grabs at his wrist as soon as he sits down, feels a crushing relief that he’s finally here, that he has the painkiller, that he has someone to hang onto, and Erwin looks surprised at the movement, but he takes Levi’s hand.

            “Have you drunk something?” Erwin says, picking up the flask. It’s empty.

            “Moblit,” Levi says. The world is spinning and Levi closes his eyes.

            He hears Erwin sigh, and then he feels Erwin’s hand, warm, in his. It always feels so large when he takes Levi’s hand, and despite this Levi knows he has to be careful. No matter how in pain he is, he never squeezes down too hard. He knows he could break Erwin’s hand if he did.

            “It’s your back?” Erwin says, as if it could be anything else. Levi nods, then groans.

            His back hurts and his thoughts are thick and his stomach hurts too. Erwin’s hand slides out of his and Levi opens his eyes. He sees Erwin taking out the case with the bottle of painkiller and the needles.

            Erwin injects the medication. Levi feels an instant relief and he sinks into the floor. His thoughts get startlingly slippery though. It surprises and upsets him. His stomach turns and he grabs for Erwin’s wrist again, but Erwin takes his hand.

            “Erwin,” he says. His tongue won’t work. He can’t grab ahold of the words, can’t convey how off balance he feels.

He thinks the nausea is just from the new anxiety at first, but then he gets more and more nauseas until he realizes with a startling fear that he feels like he’s going to be sick.

            “Erwin,” he says again. He tenses as his stomach flips. No. He regrets drinking. He regrets it a lot.

            “I’m here,” Erwin says.

            I’m gonna be sick, Levi thinks with a rapidly heightening panic. He can’t be sick. They’re out in the middle of the woods. There’s no water. There’s no toothbrush or soap.

            “Levi?” Erwin says. Levi feels Erwin’s hand run over his forehead, push back his hair. Levi can feel the sweat there, how his skin has gone clammy. “You’re burning up,” Erwin says softly, a note of fear there.

            I’m not going to be sick, I’m not going to be sick, he thinks to himself, fighting the nausea. Shit, shit, shit.

            His head swims and he opens his eyes and everything’s spinning. He catches Erwin’s expression in bits and fractures, the image twisting and doubling. “Erwin,” he says.

            He gags suddenly and tastes acid bile but swallows furiously and tenses up and fights down the urge to vomit.

            “Oh,” Erwin says, and Levi hears fumbling. Levi breaks out into a cold sweat, trembling. He can taste it in his mouth. His back still burns and he wants to sob. He wants a toothbrush. He wants to scrub his hands. He wants a bath and he can’t even sit up.

            With a sudden lurch of nausea Levi gags again, and it’s worse this time and he tries to stop with panic clawing up his lungs. He feels hands on his shoulders and suddenly he’s being pushed upwards and it hurts. It’s enough to break the final resolve he has and Levi vomits.

            Into a bucket, he realizes a second later. His chest heaves and he can’t breathe and it hurts so much. Even with the painkiller, the sudden movement and the way his body spasms as he gags ignites the pain all over again. He lets out a cry, claws at the side of the bucket with one hand and gets a fistful of Erwin’s jacket with the other. His back screams and the pain incites another round of heaving. Tears form in the corners of his eyes and he wants to fucking die.

            He haves and vomits and every time he does so his back spasms and sends a rush of white hot pain down his spine and across his lower back, and the added pain makes his stomach turn and he vomits some more.

            His ears ring and black spots appear in his vision. He can smell the vomit and he can taste it and it all has him breathing fast and ragged. By the time he finally stops dry heaving he’s crying and hyperventilating, feels like he can’t breathe, and he needs to lie down because his back is fucking burning but he needs to be clean more.

            “Okay, it’s alright,” he hears Erwin say. Erwin’s been talking the whole time but Levi hadn’t registered the words.

            “W-water,” he says. He doesn’t have any on him. He wonders if there’s some in the shed somewhere. He needs a toothbrush.

            Levi lets out a sob because he knows he won’t get one. He lets out a sob because he realizes all at once that this is going to be his reality for the next couple hours. Lying in pain on the floor with the taste of vomit in his mouth, not sure if the remaining pain or the itching of his skin is worse.

            His thoughts spin almost as badly as his vision and he’s in pain and not clean, with no way to get clean, and he feels so fucking out of control, trapped inside his body – it’s enough to keep him hyperventilating, hands shaking.

            “I have a little bit,” Erwin says. Levi looks up sharply and watches Erwin take out a small water skin. He hands it to Levi.

            Levi opens it up and quickly takes a mouthful. He swishes it around in his mouth instead of drinking though, and then spits it out into the bucket. He does that twice more. The snarling panic in his chest eases a little bit and he looks for stains of vomit on his clothing. There’s a couple specks on his pants and he dabs water at it and then scrubs with the sleeve of his jacket. He scrubs and scrubs but there isn’t any soap. He wants to take the pants off. He starts pulling at his boots.

            “Levi, why don’t you take a few sips,” Erwin says, holding out the skin again.

            Levi hesitates, but then takes it. He takes a couple sips of water. He’s afraid to drink too much – afraid it will upset his stomach again, give it something else to reject. He turns back to the boots after.

            “Levi, lie down,” Erwin says, taking his hands. Levi shakes.

            “Hurts,” he says, the word cracking. He means to say that he needs to take the pants off, that they’re dirty, that he’s dirty, that he needs to be clean, needs to get clean, but for some reason all that comes out is that instead.

            “I know, lie down, you’ll feel better,” Erwin says.

            He guides Levi down. Levi lies on his side, facing Erwin. Chills run up and down his body and he starts shivering. He stares at Erwin, grasps at Erwin’s hand when he offers it. Erwin frowns at him, and then takes off his cloak to drape it over Levi.

            The added warmth does little to mitigate the misery that Levi’s trapped in. I want a toothbrush, he thinks. He can’t get his mouth, his tongue to work. He can still taste bile. I just want a fucking toothbrush.

            He could be stuck there for hours. He hasn’t vomited in years. He’d forgotten just how terrible it made him feel.

            Erwin pushes the hair out of his face again, smooths it over his forehead. Levi looks at him almost desperately. Please, he thinks. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. He thinks about asking Erwin to leave, to go back, get a toothbrush and soap and another pair of pants, more water, but he can’t bear the thought of being alone right now, left alone in that shed where he could sink straight into the earth. It had been horrible enough when he’d only been in pain, never mind the new sick itching skin. He feels he could get crushed by the panic and pain, suffocated.

            “It’s alright,” Erwin says to him.

            Levi barely notices when Erwin starts carding fingers through his hair. When he does notice he tries to hold onto that – onto the concrete, gentle sensation. He tries to block out the acid taste, the smell, the way his body wants desperately to move but can’t because every time he tries the aching pain spikes back into unbearable.

            (His mother had vomited too, in the days before she died.)

 

 

            The pain abates only about an hour later. Levi still doesn’t move when it lets up. The painkiller’s still in his system and he’s drunk on top of that. Eventually his still itching skin wins out.

            He sits slowly. His head spins, his stomach turns. Erwin helps him up, helps him outside, then up onto the horse which Erwin rode there. Erwin walks next to it, holding the reins, and Levi feels strangely like a child, but he’s exhausted and unsteady on his feet and just wants to get back to the base and have a fucking shower.

            It takes a while, riding at a walk, but Levi doesn’t think his head or his stomach can handle more than that.

            When they get back Levi goes to the showers. He doesn’t have the patience to wait for Erwin’s bath to fill up, or to heat his own water. He hates the showers – even the officer’s ones are disgusting, but it’s fastest.

            There’s no one there in the middle of the day, which is probably best, because Levi scrubs himself clean in a frantic, obsessive rush. The painkiller’s worn off by then and the alcohol is fading too, but he’s not sober yet.

            Levi doesn’t notice until afterwards, when he’s dressing again, that Erwin has lingered by the entry way the entire time. Levi pauses and blinks at him when he sees him. Erwin is frowning.

            He’s always fucking frowning, Levi thinks. (At you, he’s frowning at you.) Levi dresses quickly in clean clothing. Fucking creepy, Levi thinks, back turned to Erwin. It’s a half-hearted thought. Now that he’s noticed he’s not surprised at all that Erwin stuck around – Levi’s sure he’s worried that he’ll hurt himself.

            (Levi’s definitely thinking about it.)

            He rinses his mouth out over and over again and brushes his teeth after getting dressed even though he already did so beforehand too. He thinks about drinking soap water but remembers the last time he did that – he’d felt sick with a cramping stomach for the entire night – and Levi doesn’t want to make himself feel more nauseas, viscerally afraid he’ll vomit again.

            He pauses when he’s done washing his mouth out for the umpteenth time. He swears he can still taste it, but his lip has split and as he looks in a mirror, he sees blood welling up in the lines between his teeth and gums. He tastes that too.

            He pauses though, and stands there, staring at the mirror above the sink, and then turns and sees Erwin by the door, and just stands there some more. He’s exhausted and drained and while he feels better, it’s still not enough, but Levi doesn’t know what to do.

            “Let’s go back to my room,” Erwin says. And Levi doesn’t know what to do, feels like he has to do something, that he can’t possibly stand to keep feeling like this, so he follows Erwin.

            They get to his room and Erwin opens the door and Levi steps inside. Erwin closes the door again and Levi stand there, staring into the room.

            He’s suddenly angry, and miserable, and the hot swell of emotions makes his skin prickle, his throat tighten.

            “I can’t catch a fucking break,” Levi says. His voice comes close to shaking.

            Hurting his leg, the attack of pain outside the wall, the infection, and now this. It’s been a fucking week and a half. Two attacks of pain in a week and a half, two panic-inducing events in a week and a half. Levi had just started feeling better, had been relieved to be able to start training again. Now he feels like shit.

            “You look tired, why don’t you lie down,” Erwin says.

            Levi doesn’t move. He feels hot and he clenches his hands to fists. He wants to punch something, someone. He’s never expected life to be fair to him and it’s been a long time since he’s gotten angry over his circumstances. He doesn’t know where the anger is coming from now, just that he’s furious and miserable and it’s an ugly combination on him.

            He feels unstable, unsteady. He’s still not completely sober.

            “I’m going for a run,” Levi says, his tone emotionless. He turns towards the door.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. He moves in front of it. They’re close and Levi has to tilt his head upwards to look at him. “Stay,” Erwin says.

            But Levi needs to do something, and he doesn’t know what to do, and the idea of a run is suddenly appealing, even though he’s exhausted and hurting – he wants to run himself into the ground, wants to run until the reason he can’t breathe is no longer that he feels like he’s drowning. He wants to run until he passes out and doesn’t have to fucking think any longer.

            “I’m going for a run,” Levi says again, looking up at Erwin.

            “You are dehydrated and exhausted,” Erwin says. “Stay.”

            His tone is hard and only a step below commanding. Levi feels a rise of anger and irritation that swells and ebbs again in the same moment. He feels like he’s cracking to pieces, and the calm, hard façade on his face cracks too, just enough, just for a moment, and Erwin’s expression softens, goes warm with concern.

            “I wanna fucking die,” Levi says. It comes out flippant but deadpan, voice low. It comes out before he even really thinks the words, lets them register.

            The emotion comes afterwards, in a surge, because he does, and he only realizes it after he says the words out loud – or rather, it hits him after he says the words out loud. He hadn’t meant them when he said it, but he does suddenly and viscerally afterwards. He wants to fucking die already.

            Erwin steps forward and wraps his arms around Levi, pulling him in. It happens slowly and Levi feels stuck, like he can only watch as it happens. He feels Erwin’s arms wrap around his back, feels his chest press to Erwin’s, his head turning, side of his face against Erwin’s chest. The top of his head fits just under Erwin’s jaw.

            Levi just stands there for a moment. Erwin has never hugged him before, he realizes.

            And suddenly Levi is gripping the back of Erwin’s jacket, fingers tightening so hard they shake. Levi closes his eyes tightly, feels them burn as his breath stutters too fast. He swallows and his shoulders start to tremble. He breathes through his mouth, and his thoughts die as he feels a series of waves of emotion – pain and misery and anger and relief. He feels one of Erwin’s hands start rubbing circles onto his back, Erwin’s arms still tight around him, steady. Levi feels the heat from Erwin’s skin. Levi closes his eyes even tighter, grits his teeth, and feels the fabric of Erwin’s shirt against the side of his face, tilts his head down and presses into it.

            (He wants to feel steady, wants to feel secure. He hadn’t realized he’d wanted it.)

            Levi pulls away slowly and only after many long moments. He pulls away in a disconnected, almost dissociative draw. It’s not a conscious thought, more an ingrained reaction, body moving away after a certain length of time, a length of time that was already pushing acceptable. Levi tilts his head up again to look at Erwin.

            He can’t take the look on Erwin’s face. He doesn’t want to see it, feels even more, suddenly, like he’s not attached to his own body, and there’s nothing wrong with Levi’s vision but it’s like Erwin’s face blurs anyway.

            He thinks suddenly of his mother, his fingers poking at her shoulder, then her face, the cold roughness of her skin, her chest still, mama, mama, over and over. He thinks of watching Kenny, back turned, walk away, of going home that night, of waiting for him to turn up for the next several days, looking for him in bars.

            Erwin will leave him too. Erwin will die and leave him in this floating pain existence. Levi sees the Titan’s teeth snapping closed around Erwin’s body, feels the ear-splitting shock of panic as he had shot towards Erwin, slicing through the nape. Erwin will die and Levi will be left to add his listless blue eyes to the circuit of nightmares that spin needles in his brain.

             He sees his mother’s face, so faded in his memory, and Kenny’s sharp grin and Isabel’s decapitated head and Artur’s eyes.

            “I’ll read?” Erwin says.

            Levi is silent for a couple seconds, before he nods. “Tea,” he says. It comes out blank and low, very quiet.

            “And I’ll make tea,” Erwin says.

 

 

            The next day, Levi forces Erwin outside to the forest they use to train, both of them equipped with ODM gear.

            “You’re shit at this,” Levi says when they both come to a stop on a tree branch, looking at the wooden titan that Erwin has just slashed the nape of. “It’s a fucking miracle that thing didn’t kill you.”

            “Yes, you’ve told me,” Erwin says, but he’s grimacing this time.

            Levi can’t get yesterday’s image out of his head his mother, Kenny, Isabel, Erwin, can’t get the image of Erwin disappearing inside that titan’s mouth out of his head either. He feels suddenly unsettled, his stomach twisting. He has never thought of Erwin as fragile in any sense of the word before, but it strikes him suddenly as very true.

            “Maybe I’m getting too old for this,” Erwin says.

            Levi frowns at him. “Don’t make excuses,” he says. “You might be an old man but you’re not ancient.”

            Erwin laughs. Levi knows that Erwin is thirty-two, eight years older than him. It never seems like that large a difference. Despite what Levi always calls him, he is not old, and he just needs to train more.

            “Let’s do it again,” Levi says.

            Erwin goes through the drill another couple times. Levi comments as he goes. By the time two hours has passed Erwin is covered in sweat and panting.

            “Well?” Erwin says. “Do I pass?”

            “No,” Levi says, frowning at him. “Your form has gotten sloppy. And you’re out of shape.” Levi knows that Erwin goes for a run every morning after breakfast – Levi almost never accompanies him though – he prefers to run with his squad. Erwin rarely joins the rest of the soldiers for morning exercises though, and he doesn’t train with ODM nearly as often as the rest of them either. It’s not out of laziness, Levi knows – Erwin has a lot of other responsibilities and only so much time. Levi will be damned if Erwin keeps up like this though. He doesn’t know how he hadn’t noticed sooner that Erwin wasn’t up to par.

            Erwin’s shoulders slump. “Well Levi, please, don’t hold back on my account.”

            Levi feels a twinge of guilt. “Sorry,” he says. “You need to train more.”

            They get down from the trees and start walking back. Levi recounts the errors that Erwin had made, already trying to work out a reasonable training schedule for him. He needs to delegate some of his work to someone else. Levi can take on some of it – he doesn’t sleep much anyway – but he’s shit at doing anything involving the nobles and clearly not capable of running inventory as the previous math debacle showed. Hange has her hands full already – she might be the only one who rivals Levi in terms of sleep deprivation – so it’ll have to go to Mike and the other squad leaders.

            “You should appoint another Captain,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks sideways at him, taken aback. “What? Why?”

            “We don’t need another Squad Leader but you need someone who can take on some of the paperwork, the less essential stuff. Someone smart.”

            “Hm, and do you have any suggestions?”

            “No,” Levi says. He’s not very social, and he doesn’t make much effort to get to know other soldiers except for the ones in his squad or who he works with frequently. Petra would probably be quite good at it, Eld too, but there’s no way he’s giving up either of them from his squad. “You need a Moblit,” Levi says.

            “I need a Moblit?” Erwin says, amused.

            “Yeah, someone to follow you around and take notes and do grunt work. And to make sure you don’t die of stupidity.”

            Erwin smiles at him. “But Levi, you’ve just described yourself.”

            Levi looks actually offended, and Erwin laughs. They walk in silence for another minute.

            “Do you remember when you asked me if I was afraid of being eaten by a titan?” Levi says.

            (“Are you afraid to die, Levi?” Erwin said.

            “No.”

            “I am.”)

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            “Were you afraid, in the titan’s mouth?” Levi says.

            Erwin thinks for a moment, tilts his head up as he walks. “Were you afraid, when you were standing in that five meter titan’s mouth, holding it’s jaw open to keep it from biting you in half?”

            (“There’s a difference between not being afraid to die and not being afraid to be eaten by a titan,” Levi said.

            “Are you afraid of being eaten by a titan?”

            “No.”

            “I’m not either.”)

            “No, I wasn’t afraid,” Levi says. He hadn’t been. He was very rarely afraid in battle. Despite his utter inability to control his spiraling thoughts and anxious, panicked responses to dirt and filth, he is always startlingly calm when he fights. There had been no room for emotion, no time to dwell on it in between pushing the titan’s jaw open and trying to get his malfunctioning gear to work. He hadn’t been afraid.

            “I wasn’t either,” Erwin says. “Actually, it was very strange. I think I knew you were coming.”

            Levi doesn’t know how to respond to that. There’s always a rush of clarity and sudden surge of strength which runs through him in extreme situations. It had happened at that moment. He remembers Kenny mentioning it happening to him as well. It’s one of the reasons Levi assumes that they are related, that Kenny is his father. (That and that they look somewhat alike, and that Levi has no idea why else Kenny would have taken him in. A friend of your mother’s, he’d said. But then, how would Kenny know that Levi was his? His mother had been a prostitute. There were other men. Maybe he’d only suspected.)

 

 

            Levi has always had something of a sixth sense. Or no, that’s not quite right. He has had something of a sixth sense since he was seven years old. Since the day, the moment really, that he stole a bag of food, got cornered in an alleyway, and then escaped. There was a specific moment, his back against the wall, barefoot, a knife in one hand and the sack in his other, heart thudding in his ears, two men grinning down at him as they approached, that he’d felt that first sudden strange surge of strength, a startling clarity, and acted. He’d been starving. Kenny had been gone for two days – he disappeared like that sometimes – and he had been hungry and cornered and the men were taunting him with threats to cut off his ear or a hand.

            So Levi has had something of a sixth sense since he was seven. He’s had a strange, inhuman strength and speed since he was seven, which occasionally crests and surges again in moments of emergency. Often while he’s outside the walls. Less often inside.

            Erwin’s words stick in his head and Levi finds himself thinking about them I think I knew you were coming.

             Levi knows that he fights well with Erwin, that he is able to anticipate Erwin’s moves and always feels a certain strength under his direction. He’s never questioned it much before. He trusts Erwin. He has trusted Erwin’s ability as a Commander, his judgment and his skill, for much longer than he’s trusted him as a friend. Since the moment Furlan and Isabel died really, from the moment that Erwin showed him something he’d never seen before, from the moment Erwin showed him a glimpse of a hope, a purpose, that Levi can hardly imagine.

Levi has never understood Erwin’s drive to save humanity. That is not to say that Levi doesn’t care about humanity, doesn’t feel empathy for his fellow soldiers or for the refugees that were killed in the massacre after wall Maria fell, doesn’t dream himself of a world where titans are gone. But he has never understood the passion, the need, which drives Erwin forward. He has only ever seen it as a shadow against Erwin – like a light which Levi can only see when it’s reflected through Erwin’s eyes.

            He’d pledged to follow Erwin, not to follow the Survey Corps. He saw something in Erwin’s eyes the day that Furlan and Isabel died, had seen a type of purpose which Levi couldn’t catch, couldn’t feel, but suddenly wanted to follow.

            Actually, it was very strange. I think I knew you were coming.

            Levi has always attributed the enhanced strength, the connection, the clarity that he feels in Erwin’s presence to his ultimate trust in Erwin’s strategic judgement. He fights better around Erwin because he trusts Erwin’s decisions, because he trusts that driving force behind Erwin’s choices just as much as he trusts Erwin’s intelligence. (It’s not friendship, not closeness, because he’s felt the same enhanced strength and clarity right from the beginning, long before they’d developed a relationship beyond Levi tolerating Erwin and Erwin occasionally engaging him in conversation.)

            The thought trickles in. Levi wonders if Erwin did know that he was coming. He wonders if Erwin has a sort of sixth sense as well. He wonders if the strange strength he has around Erwin goes deeper than Levi’s odd moments of clarity – if there is something about Erwin as well. He wonders why that strange strength comes easier around Erwin, wonders if it has nothing to do with the trust he has in Erwin’s judgment.

            Levi wonders again why (how) he is Humanity’s Strongest.

 

 

            Levi shows up at Erwin’s office the next morning, as he always does, for breakfast. Erwin is already setting down the food. Levi leaves the door open, which Erwin registers briefly before Levi flattens a paper out on Erwin’s side of the desk, right where Erwin was about to put his plate.

            Erwin pauses, looking up. Levi takes back his hand, crossing his arms, waiting. Erwin squints down at the paper.

            “What is this?” Erwin says.

            “Your training schedule,” Levi says.

            Erwin sighs. He puts his plate down to the side and sinks down into his chair, picking up the paper. Levi watches his eyes flick back and forth, skimming it.

            “Levi, I don’t have time for this,” Erwin says.

            “You do now,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks up at him, eyes narrowed.

            “I’ve procured a secretary,” Levi says.

            Erwin’s expression goes from annoyed to suspicious. “Procured?” he says.

            “Yes.”

            “And who is this secretary?”

            “James!” Levi yells.

            Erwin gets a bad feeling a moment before a young man walks nervously into the room, through the door that Levi left open.

            He’s got to be a new recruit by how young he looks – probably only the fifteen or sixteen that cadets graduating from the training corps are. He looks mildly terrified, giving a hasty salute. “Commander, sir,” he says.

            Erwin looks over at Levi, who’s face is that controlled blankness but Erwin can see the smug glint in his eyes. “Levi,” he says.

            “He can do all that math shit that I can’t, I’ve seen his penmanship, and he’s not an idiot,” Levi says. “He can help you out so you have more time.”

            “Levi, I cannot take a recruit as my secretary, the information I deal with is too high level, you know this, I –”

            “Then make him an officer, I talked to his commanding officers and they think he’s smart, were already talking about promoting him at some point, he –” Levi says, but is then cut off.

            “Leeevviiiiii!”

            Levi stops mid-sentence and winces, tensing. Erwin has one second to register that the voice belongs to Hange and that she is screaming down the hall before Levi turns to James, still standing by the door.

            “Brat, shut the door,” Levi says.

            James goes to shut the door but he only manages to close it half way before he’s jumping back as it’s swung forcefully open again, Hange striding in.

            “Levi! You will not have my star recruits!” She says, pointing at him, before grabbing James’s arm. The mildly terrified look on James’s face has intensified to most definitely terrified.

            “He’s not your recruit anymore, I’m submitting the transfer papers,” Levi says.

            “Do you know how few people in this place have any knowledge of physics or engineering?” Hange says. “I will tell you how many, Levi. Three people. Three. James is one of them. You are not taking one of the three people in this entire damn place who can do any physics!”

            Levi huffs. Erwin looks to Levi. “Levi,” he says.

            “They said he was the smartest,” Levi says, gesturing. “You need someone smart.”

            “There are plenty of smart soldiers who don’t know physics,” Hange says.

            “Shut up about your damn physics, Shitty Glasses,” Levi says.

            “Levi, you cannot steal James from Hange to be my secretary,” Erwin says. Levi opens his mouth but Erwin sighs. “I will put serious consideration into finding someone who can help me out,” he says. “I will promise to do this if you will refrain from procuring anyone else.”

            Hange marches away with James and Erwin sighs while Levi glares at him. He continues glaring as he pulls his chair out roughly, scraping against the floor, and sits down. “You had better pick someone soon,” Levi says.

            “Fine,” Erwin says, with the start of a smile.

 

Notes:

I swear I have the scene where they get together already written, I just can't seem to get there. SOON.

Chapter 16: Reckless

Summary:

Featuring: a bloody nose, knives, alcohol, sex (or lack thereof), and part 2 of that conversation from two chapters ago which I cut in half.

Notes:

This still feels too broken up to me, but it already took too long to put together and I'm excited about the next chapter and want to move on to that one already, so here you go.

 

 

            Levi joins Erwin as usual for breakfast in his office. They eat in silence for several minutes. It’s not a strained silence and it’s definitely not unusual for them. Erwin has papers already out on his desk. He’s been a bit (very) stressed since their mission outside the walls. They had managed to get all of the supplies which the nobles and the king asked of them – all of it, enough medicine to have the reserves fully stocked with some to spare – and yet he had received a letter just that morning saying that if they wanted the (previously agreed upon) funding then they would need to submit a detailed explanation of what their next mission would functionally do. It was giving him a headache. He now had to not only write up the said report, but also figure out who on the council the request was really coming from and which nobles could be leveraged to support him. He’s so engrossed in the task that he doesn’t notice that Levi’s not taken a bite of food until halfway through their meal.

            Erwin glances at the untouched oatmeal, where Levi is absently stirring, and then up at Levi again. He can’t help looking at his face, the fit of his jacket, trying to see if it looks like he’s lost weight. Erwin knows he hasn’t really been eating enough since the previous mission two weeks. He tries to remember if he’d eaten much the past couple days but Erwin has been too caught up in other things.

            Levi knows that he hasn’t been eating enough. It has nothing to do with moldy food and it’s certainly not intentional, but he feels like he hasn’t been hungry in days. Certainly not since he’d had the second attack of pain. It’s only just started to affect him enough to be noticeable – he’s tired, more snappish, dizzy at times.

            “Levi,” Erwin says, and Levi almost winces, because he knows as soon as he hears the tone of his voice what’s coming. “I think you’ve lost some weight.”

            Levi grunts. He pushes oatmeal around in his bowl. It’s watery. And tastes like mush. Everything tastes like mush lately.

            Levi wonders, not for the first time, what the fuck is wrong with his brain.

            “It’s not the cleanliness this time?” Erwin says slowly, almost hesitantly. Levi can’t stand that careful tone. He says nothing, makes no comment, no indication of a response. “You really should be eating more, Levi.”

            Not hungry. He doesn’t bother to say it out loud. He pushes oatmeal around some more. Cannot even bring himself to take a token bite of it. He doesn’t know when eating got so hard. “No shit,” he says instead. It comes out quiet, with no bite.

            Erwin watches him while Levi watches the oatmeal, pushing his spoon in a spiraled circle, watching the milky oatmeal water well up in the divots the spoon makes, until the oatmeal ridges seep back down again to uniform flatness, before the spoon makes another round and starts it all over again.

            Levi pauses when he realizes he’s just been staring at the fucking oatmeal in a trance for several moments.

            Get a fucking grip, Levi thinks. He looks up to see Erwin looking back at him with clear worry. Levi turns to the side and looks at the window.

            “What can I do to help?” Erwin says.

            Levi shrugs. He looks back down, but this time he looks at his hand, where he holds the spoon. He lifts it slightly. He still has scars along his fingers and the back of his hand from when he’d burned it five years ago. Boiling water. Or, it wasn’t really boiling – Levi supposes the scars would be a lot worse if it had been boiling. Very hot water then. He couldn’t get his hand clean, couldn’t make himself feel clean. You boiled water to sterilize things, to make the water clean to drink. In a fit of desperation he’d poured hot water over his hand. And then the next morning Erwin had found him, had demanded to know why he wasn’t at training – the first time Erwin learned of Levi’s self-destructive habits.

            Levi remembers lashing out, remembers the pain as Erwin carefully unwrapped the bandages on his hand. The scars have faded a lot since then, but there are still patches of discolored skin. Really, Levi was lucky. If the water had been hotter, if he hadn’t waited as long as he did for it to cool, it could have been much, much worse. He could easily have wound up with nerve damage, or even a compromised use of his hand.

            (Levi wonders how long it will be until he does something permanent, until he loses what little grip on the self-preservation he still has and mutilates himself in a way that will have permanent consequences.)

            Levi looks up again to see a strained look on Erwin’s face. It reminds him a little of how he’d looked when he’d confronted Levi the last time about his eating, how he’d been stressed already and had little patience. Levi doesn’t think Erwin’s about to yell at him like he had before, but Levi’s noticed that Erwin has been more stressed than usual. (Levi knows he’s probably not helping with all the talk about training too. Yet he’s not about to back down about it either.)

            “How have you been feeling?” Erwin tries.

            “Fine,” Levi says, clipped.

            “Alright then,” Erwin says, looking back down at his work.

            It comes out slightly irritated, and Levi feels both a responding irritation and a touch of guilt. He tries to think if he’s ever seen Erwin lose his temper – really lose his temper. He’s not sure he ever has. The closest thing has to be the irritation and thus unthoughtful impatience that he’d shown when Levi refused to eat the soup or the ration bar outside the wall. Levi’s seen that type of response a handful of times from Erwin towards different people, but he’s not sure he’s ever seen Erwin really angry.

 

 

 

When Levi was sixteen, he’d gone on a bender of sorts. A drunken few days of barfights, reckless stealing, itching skin, and a mean streak. It’s hard for him now to even pinpoint when or why it started exactly. He’d been hungry and on edge – it was the middle of winter and a job had gone not to plan – he’d killed a guard and Isabel had gotten grazed with a bullet, another one of their team had nearly died and would be recovering for the next month. They hadn’t gotten the payout that they’d thought they would. There wasn’t enough food in the underground in winter. They were hungry. (Not starving. There was a big difference, one that Levi knew viscerally. But still, unpleasantly, achingly hungry.)

            It was a few days in which Levi remembers things in a blurry haze. Blowing money on drink, cheating at cards to win more, Furlan tracking him down, making Isabel cry. He’d knifed a pimp out of nowhere, might have killed him – Levi doesn’t know. There was no reason for it. Levi was angry, so he stabbed him. He fought anyone who so much as looked at him wrong, got thrown out of a couple of bars, cut his own skin up when he had nowhere else to go, couldn’t find anyone else to pick a fight with.

            There was something so utterly unstable, out of control to it, and it was simultaneously an absolutely horrible feeling and yet cripplingly addictive. Levi doesn’t like feeling not in control of himself, on edge, almost paranoid, volatile to the point of implosion.

            But it felt shockingly close to freedom. There were suddenly no lines. No lines he couldn’t – wouldn’t – cross: drunk, angry, and reckless with an overconfidence that came from being the best fighter in the underground, reckless from not giving a shit what happened to him anyway. When there was nothing left to lose, it didn’t matter what he did – he could do anything, was free to do anything. But it was a horrible, twisted and painful kind of liberty.

            Levi feels a little bit like that now.

            He walks outside, watching the soldiers train in hand to hand. There’s always a lot of complaining when they train like this, since they’re not exactly fighting hand to hand with titans, but Levi’s a firm believer that it keeps people’s reflexes sharp. The wooden titans they train with won’t hit back, won’t swing or move the way real ones do. People will hit back.

            He feels the itch to have a go at someone. It’s been another few days since the last attack of pain but he still hasn’t recovered from everything. He still feels shaky and off-center and it has something going precarious in his head, dangerously close to breaking. He hates the feeling and yet feels the pull to give in at the same time. He doesn’t know what he would do, he just knows it wouldn’t be good.

            It’s like this when he gets self-destructive too, the same shaky awful feeling that somehow gets worse and yet better when he hurts himself. It’s a relief, like he’s taking the control back, but it always makes him spiral farther.

            Levi’s very good in hand to hand fighting but he’s much better with a knife. Mike has beat him at hand to hand before. Erwin too, but only a couple of times out of the many that they have sparred. Oluo twice. Eld once.

            Levi wants a fight. He finds Mike because Mike is the only person Levi isn’t afraid of hurting if he has less than stellar control today. Mike asks no questions, just nods, moves aside with Levi. They spar and it is easy.

            Easy to let his mind blank out, to focus on the fight. He dodges Mike’s blows, uses his size to his advantage in that he moves fast – much faster than Mike. He’s too impatient to wait for the perfect opening but it’s fine anyway. Mike makes a mistake and lets Levi get behind him. Levi manages to tear him to the ground.

            People stop to watch. Humanity’s Strongest and second strongest, going at it, clearly not holding much back. People’s biggest mistake when fighting Levi is that they always underestimate his strength. But Levi is stronger than just about every other person he knows – it’s only his height that’s a disadvantage, but he makes up for it in skillful leverage and unmatched speed.

            He twists and brings a knee into Mike’s gut, doesn’t lighten the hit as much as he should. Mike grunts, and Levi feels the shift, swears he can feel Mike’s sudden change in mood – he’s not quite angry, but he’s definitely irritated. He can practically hear Mike’s voice: that kind of fight then. Mike’s next punch is harder. He stops holding back.

            They keep going. Levi breathes hard, feels energy buzzing in every sinew of his body, completely focused now. At the same time, his thoughts slip away. Mike gets him hard in the gut but he recovers quickly. Levi gets a punch in that’s going to bruise. Then he lands a hard kick to Mike’s thighs. If it were a real fight Levi would have gone for his knees, but the force of the kick could have broken one.

            The adrenaline and dangerously precarious feeling that has been haunting him for weeks channel together into a startling intensity. Levi settles into the fight. He stays out of reach, moves too quickly for Mike to catch, dodges much more often than he blocks, and gets in a couple more good blows. He’s not even really trying to pin Mike now, he’s enjoying the fight. Mike clearly grows more frustrated.

            And then Levi steps in too close while going for a punch, and Mike swings at him. Levi leans back but it puts him off balance and he can’t get out of the way.

            Pain bursts across his jaw and nose and his head snaps back, the force of the blow throwing him backwards. He stumbles, new adrenaline flooding his body as he falls. He tastes blood as he hits the ground. He leans into the fall rather than fight it though, a learned reaction. It’s reflex that has him rolling the second he’s down, and adrenaline that has him jumping back up.

            Levi breathes heavily. He has his fists up already but Mike hasn’t moved, is just looking at him from several feet away. It takes him only a moment to realize everyone’s staring at them. Levi just narrows his eyes at Mike.

            “Come on,” he says.

            “I think I broke your nose,” Mike says.

            “Feels fine,” Levi says.

            “I’m done,” Mike says.

            Levi huffs, irritated, but lets his hands drop. A moment later he reaches to feel around his nose. As some of the adrenaline fades the pain hits more fully.

            “Shit,” Levi says. Mike steps over. He looks almost wary.

            “I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have pulled that punch more.”

            No shit, Levi thinks. He’s pretty sure that if he hadn’t managed to lean back at the last moment Mike might have actually knocked him out with that one. Levi wipes blood away from his face, grimacing at the liquid staining his hands. It’s not exactly uncommon for recruits to lose their temper or not have enough control to pull their punches, but Mike is a veteran soldier and usually very calm anyway. Levi’s got a less than stellar track record when it comes to the same, but he’s never seriously injured anyone and he hasn’t knocked someone out or broken someone’s nose since his first couple years in the Corps.

            Mike shrugs, but hands Levi a handkerchief. Levi takes it and presses it to his nose. It doesn’t feel broken but it sure as hell hurts and he’ll have two black eyes tomorrow.

 

 

            By the time Levi sees Hange later that day, the throbbing ache in his nose and jaw has gone from unpleasant to grating. She takes one look at him and his already bruising face and starts laughing. Levi threatens to give her a black eye in return if she doesn’t shut up and it does absolutely nothing to deter her. She asks him if he wants to go into town that night, to a bar as some kind of recompense and Levi says yes.

            An hour later Hange has somehow convinced Erwin to come too (which is good as far as Levi is concerned – Erwin needs a fucking break too) and Hange buys the first round. Levi downs two shots of whiskey to try to numb some of the pain before switching to beer. (He is still keenly aware of how the last time he drank whiskey turned out. So much so that he almost opts for Erwin’s vodka instead.)

            They’re at their usual bar, one that many of the Survey Corps frequents. There’s a table of younger soldiers in the corner, who were there before they arrived. They all froze when the three of them walked in, and Levi rolled his eyes. Levi sees them peering over frequently, which grates at him at first before the alcohol kicks in.

            They play blackjack and then poker, betting small coins and then increasingly large sums. Hange is best at blackjack – she counts cards, Levi is sure of it – but he and Erwin are better at poker. Levi refrains from cheating. (Even though it’s much more fun when you can cheat.)

            (It had been a kind of rule when he and Furlan and Isabel played any games. You could cheat so long as you didn’t get caught. If you got caught then you lost and you had to do all the cleaning the next day. Isabel was a terrible poker player but a very good cheat. Furlan the opposite.)

            He forgets about the near broken nose until Hange brings it up again later in the night, after they finish a game.

            “I heard some of Mike’s squad gossiping about how hard he hit you,” Hange says, “I think there’s a betting pool on what you’re going to do to get him back.”

            Levi huffs and then takes another sip of his drink. “It was a practice fight.”

            “And he punched you onto your ass,” Hange says.

            Levi scowls at her. “He didn’t pull the punch, not like it hasn’t happened before.”

            Erwin frowns at him and opens his mouth.

            “Don’t,” Levi says, shaking his head. “He apologized anyway. Don’t make it into something more.”

            Erwin’s mouth shuts again, his expression softening a little. Levi’s actually a little surprised that he himself isn’t more angry about it. Maybe it’s only because he’d been so on edge that he could have easily hit a little too hard too.

            He feels buzzed but he’s not drunk. The bar is full now and Levi gets up. He decides he wants to be drunk.

            “I’m getting another round, you two?”

            “Yes!” Hange says at the same time that Erwin holds up his still half full beer and declines.

            Levi goes to refill his and Hange’s drinks. As he comes back, one in each hand, he sees a man stride directly in front of him over to their table – no, directly to Erwin.

            Levi feels a shift, a sudden tingling adrenaline, realizing something is off, a split second before the man grabs the back of Erwin’s jacket and hauls him backwards off his chair. Levi sees the glint of a knife in his other hand.

            Erwin is just being pulled around when Levi smashes the beer mug in his left hand into the man’s head. He’s already dropped the one in his right hand, pulling his own knife. The man lets go and stumbles a step back, but the glass breaks and he only stumbles. Levi lets what’s remaining of the glass fall from his hand as he advances, knife up.

            The fight is over in less than a minute, the man on the ground, Levi bending his wrist back until he drops his knife, Levi’s own knife pressed to his throat.

            “Fucking cowards!” the man yells. Spit comes flying from his mouth and Levi grimaces. “Kill me then! Go on, kill me like you kill all your soldiers, like you kill the kids who join you!”

            “Shut the fuck up,” Levi says, his tone almost disinterested, but his expression is icy. He grabs the man’s knife from where it dropped, and then rises again, taking a step back. He keeps an eye on the man, flicking his knife between his fingers.

            “Thank you, Levi,” Erwin says behind him. Levi grunts. The room has gone silent, as the man slowly gets back to his feet, looking murderously over at them, face completely red. There’s a cut on his temple from the beer glass but it looks shallow.

            “Go back to your drink before you do something else you’ll regret,” Levi says. He turns sideways to the man, looks down at the two beers he had just gotten (one mug smashed, the other rolling across the floor, both spilled). He grimaces, looking up. “You people have a mop?” he says.

            As he speaks the man gets to his feet. Levi looks over to where a barman is getting a bucket, sees movement in his peripheral, looks sideways without changing his stance.

            The man yells, a second knife above his head, swinging down.

            Levi ducks low, steps towards the man instead of backing up, and lets the man run straight into him, his elbow out to jab into his stomach and his shoulder hitting the man’s chest. Levi turns, spins, and the man stumbles right by him, gasping from the elbow to his solar plexus. Levi spins and kicks him in the ass on his way.

            “You’re starting to piss me off,” Levi says.

            Hange cackles behind him. “Levi,” Erwin says.

            The man turns, a murderous scowl on his face. Levi flips his switchblade open again, the man’s first knife slipped into his belt. People move away from them, the barman yelling something, one of the man’s friends trying to get him to calm down. Levi narrows his eyes at him.

            It’s been a long time since he’s gotten into a real knife fight. He’s not sure this counts. The man’s attacks are uncoordinated, and Levi can’t tell if he’s drunk or if he’s just not that skilled. The moves aren’t terrible – he has some knowledge of what he’s doing, but still – it’s not exactly a challenge.

            The man lunges for him. Levi steps back, swings his knife in a wide arc no where near the man just to grab his attention and build momentum. He kicks again, this one hitting him in the side.

            “Go Levi!” Hange shouts.

            “Shut up, Shitty Glasses,” Levi says.

            If this had happened eight years ago, in the Underground, there’d be bets going on already. There always were, when he fought. There was always someone there who didn’t know him, who would see his size and bet against him, thinking it was easy money, and there was always someone who did know him willing to take advantage – often Furlan.

            (“Twenty on the short one,” Furlan said. Levi heard it off to the side as he smashed a glass over the first man’s head, spun to kick the second.

            “Feel free to give me some help anytime, Furlan,” Levi said, between dodging a swipe to his neck and stepping out of range of a kick.

            “Doing business, Levi,” Furlan said back.

            Levi stabbed the second man just to pull the knife back out of his thigh and slice through the other’s arm. He pushed forward with an uppercut to his jaw and a kick that sends him to the floor.

            “Uh, not against that one,” someone said. Levi turned just in time to duck a swing. He nicked the guy’s face with his next cut.

            Afterwards, when Levi was wiping blood off his knife and from his face, where one of them had gotten a solid punch to his nose, Furlan frowned at him. “You can’t win that quickly,” he said, “come on, at least drag it out a little. You don’t give me any time to get bets going.”

            Levi glared at him. “You fight if you wanna drag it out,” he said, wincing when he touched his nose.

            “Don’t get pissy now just because you let your guard down and he got in a good shot,” Furlan said. Levi redoubled his glare.)

            But that was the Underground. Here he is Humanity’s Strongest, in uniform and recognizable. No one wants to bet against him now.

            The fight ends similarly quickly, this time with Levi holding the knife to the man’s neck a few seconds longer. “You get up this time and you walk away,” Levi says. “Whoever died that you care about wouldn’t want you to die today too. Especially not out of such stupidity.”

            Levi takes the man’s knife (again) and gets up. This time one of the man’s friends helps him up and takes him out of the bar. Levi looks up again, holds out his hand.

            “The mop?” he says.

 

 

            Levi doesn’t really have a type. Or at least, he doesn’t know what his type is. Clean, but then, he’s not sure that counts as a type if it’s from the part of his brain that’s screwed up. He doesn’t have a preference on hair color, he’s sure of that. He likes eyes. But not a specific color – he’s not partial to any in particular. He just likes nice eyes – but again, is that really a type? Everyone is attracted to nice eyes, aren’t they?

            He likes men who are taller than him, or at least, he’s never been attracted to a man who was the same height or shorter than him – but there were not many men who were the same height or shorter than him, so he’s not had a large sample population. They don’t need to be giant, just taller than him.

            He knows he likes men who are strong, who are competent, skilled. There have been both male and female soldiers, subordinates, who have had a bit of an infatuation with him before. (Only ones who don’t know him well though.) He can’t stand hero worship, and he’s not interested in anyone who will act submissively or deferentially towards him. Likewise, he doesn’t think he could ever be attracted to someone who thought themselves above him.

            He thinks about this as he stares down the recruit who has been not so subtly watching him from across the bar for the past hour.

            The recruit looks away immediately and blushes. Levi is unimpressed. He’s got to be only seventeen, eighteen – not completely new but very young. Levi is twenty-four.

            Five years now. Five years since Peter. Levi thinks that sounds pretty pathetic. Maybe he should go back to that bar – he wonders if it’s still running, wonders if gay men still congregate on the second floor every Tuesday. He’s feeling almost reckless enough to try it. It would be much more dangerous now then it was then though. The last time he went he was seventeen and no one knew his name. He is easily recognizable in this town now. Not that they could really do anything to him – the military police could get involved, hell, maybe they even would to try to get rid of him, but Erwin would spin some story, smooth everything over. It would follow him though – gossip among soldiers was sure to skyrocket overnight. He really doesn’t care what people think of him, but he’s not sure he’s willing to risk quite that much attention.

            Five years. No bar. (Pathetic, Levi thinks.)

            He thinks about trying to proposition the soldier. Levi is quite aware that he cannot and will never be able to flirt. He’s not entirely sure how these things usually go. He’s fairly certain his previous experience is not typical. Maybe he should just go up to the soldier and ask if he wants to have sex.

            (“So you only like boys,” Furlan said from where he leaned against the doorframe to his room, a couple weeks after Levi turned fifteen. Furlan had just come back from a failed date.

            “Yes,” Levi said without looking up, sharpening his knife. They had talked briefly of this before, and Levi didn’t hold it as a secret, at least not with Furlan.

            “Do you know how two men have sex?”

            Levi looked up at him then, an unimpressed expression. “I’m not an idiot, Furlan.”

            “Well it’s different than –”

            “I know how fucking works,” Levi said.

            “Great, wanna try it?”

            “What?”)

            By the way the kid keeps staring at him Levi doesn’t think it would take much.

            “Levi!” Hange says, and Levi turns to look at her. Her face is flushed from alcohol and there is a not so small collection of empty glasses on their table. Despite this, none of them are too drunk yet. Certainly not sober though. “What’s with you?” she says, “what are you looking at?”

            Levi jerks his head in the direction of the solider. “Brat keeps staring at me.”

            “Oh, which one?” she says, very unsubtly looking over. Levi glances as well, just to see the kid duck his head.

            “The one that looks like a tomato,” Levi says.

            “Oh, an admirer?” she says, and then laughs again.

            Levi takes another long drink of his beer. He glances over to see the soldier hiding behind a glass now.

            “You do tend to attract a fan club,” Erwin says.

            “Whatever,” Levi says. Too young, too timid. Probably just a foot soldier too, no rank. Levi thinks again about how if he’s going to fuck another soldier he probably should be at least an officer if not a team leader or higher. Then again, what had Erwin said? That the rules surrounding fraternization were actually quite vague?

            Levi takes another sip of his drink and turns back towards their game.

 

 

            It’s only the next night when Levi is sitting in Erwin’s study, in his armchair as usual, watching as Erwin finishes some paperwork, still feeling restless and too reckless. His leg throbs dully. It’s almost entirely healed but it still aches by the end of the day.

            Levi’s abandoned the pretense of reading reports. They lie in his lap as he drums his fingers against the armrest. They’d taken dinner in there and Levi’s half eaten meal is sitting on the side table next to him. He’s staring at the wall thinking when Erwin speaks.

            “You’ve not been eating very well,” Erwin says.

            Levi runs a hand over his face. “Haven’t been hungry,” he says.

            “You know, I haven’t seen you fight with a knife since the day we met.”

            Levi huffs, though he’s a little thrown by the sudden change in topic. “You mean since the day I tried to kill you with a knife?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            That’s not the last time Levi’s fought with a knife. He’s gotten into fights at bars and in town at night before, poor bastards who don’t recognize him in the dark, who just see a small man walking by himself, and try to mug him.

            “I think you may have further awed some of our soldiers,” Erwin says.

            Levi huffs again. “Nothing to be impressed by. Wasn’t exactly a hard fight.”

            “Still, they seemed a bit captivated.”

            Levi snorts this time. Captivated. “Really, Erwin?”

            He looks over but Erwin smiles at him, that small, smirking smile. “You were the one who commented that they were staring at you,” Erwin says.

            “One,” Levi says. “One was staring at me. And I’m not sure his prime focus was my fighting technique.”

            “And what gave you that idea?” Erwin says.

            “The dear God fuck me look on his face was a pretty good tip off.”

            Erwin laughs and Levi watches him.

            “You know, you never answered my question,” Levi says. “Remember when I asked you if you would really never have sex with a fellow soldier?” It was only a week ago, sitting in Erwin's  bedroom that time.

            “Remember when I said that, just as you did not want to talk about your sex life, I did not want to talk about mine?” Erwin says.

            “You brought this up.”

            “I brought up your knife fighting. I’m pretty sure knife fighting to people I would have sex with is not a direct connection.”

            “Bullshit, you know exactly how we got here.”

            “Then I am re-declining to engage in the conversation.”

            “Come on, Erwin, it’s just a hypothetical question,” Levi says. He’s reminded of how he felt a week ago, the last time he asked. His mood has not improved or changed much since then and he’s surprised at how curious he is – there’s a kind of uncaring, unflinching perseverance to this (his) particular brand of recklessness, that on-a-bender chaos.

            (He feels, underneath the curiosity and needling desire to provoke Erwin, that there is a part of him which is just tormenting himself. And then he tells himself that that is ridiculous, he’s just asking a question, just teasing Erwin.)

            “I really do not understand your persistence when you had exactly the same reservations,” Erwin says.

            “If you answer my question, I’ll answer one of yours,” Levi says.

            Erwin’s expression shifts, only slightly, only for a moment. “Levi,” he says, “what is this?”

            “What is what?” Levi says.

            Erwin looks at him for one long moment. “Fine,” Erwin says. “I’ll answer your question, and then you’ll answer mine.” He looks at Levi steadily. “No, it’s not a fast rule, I wouldn’t never have sex with one of my soldiers out of principle.”

            “Hm,” Levi says. He’s not really sure what answer he was expecting, though he doesn’t feel very surprised. He suppresses the full smirk that is trying to break out on his face, keeps the customary, flat line of his mouth instead, though he knows the rest of his expression is not so stoic.

            “How many people have you had sex with?” Erwin says.

            It is not a question that Levi is expecting.

             “Four,” Levi says. Furlan, girl at a bar, guy at a bar, Peter. He wonders if that will make him sound distasteful in Erwin’s eyes, wonders if Erwin really cares about something like how many partners someone’s had. Wonders why he asked it in the first place.

            But Erwin’s eyes only light with curiosity. They don’t show disgust or judgement.

            “Another question?” Levi says.

            Erwin narrows his eyes in response. “You’ll answer one of mine?” Erwin says.

            “Sure.”

            “Alright then.”

            He agrees to it readily this time and that should throw up red flags, but Levi’s too interested in Erwin’s next answer. “What ranks would you consider?” Levi says, “Since you could possibly have sex with a soldier.”

            “Squad leaders,” Erwin says smoothly, “I suppose I wouldn’t say never with a team leader, but I can’t imagine it. Captains.”

            “Hm,” Levi says.

            “How many were women?” Erwin says.

            It takes Levi a moment to catch up. To remember Erwin’s last question, to click the two into place. He stares back at Erwin for two moments too long and Erwin’s expression stays the same clear, watching, almost intrigued look.

            Well shit, Levi thinks. He really had not thought Erwin would ever be so bold.

            “One,” Levi says. His voice is calm and steady and his eyes narrow back at Erwin. “But you already knew the answer wouldn’t be four,” he says. He would not have asked otherwise. Levi realizes, once again, that Erwin has played him.

            “It was a good hunch,” Erwin says.

            Levi wasn’t expecting to see judgment or revulsion on Erwin’s face, but it still feels good to note that they are completely absent from his expression. No, it’s a self-satisfied look, open but smug, like he’s just beat Levi at a game of chess, but is planning on wheedling him into playing again anyway.

            “And you, Erwin?” Levi says. “Were all your conquests women then?”

            “Ah,” Erwin says, smiling now, “but I only agreed to two questions.”

            Levi can’t help the snort. “That’s as much an answer as any.”

            “Mm,” Erwin says, noncommittal, still smiling.

 

 

Notes:

The next chapter guys. We might actually get somewhere.

(Although I do so appreciate everyone who's commented that they love the slow burn and not to worry about rushing it.)

A note on the trajectory of this story:

As I'm sure you've all noticed, I've slowed down the time progression of the story immensely in the last several chapters. We've gone from skipping a year at a time to a couple months to a couple weeks to a couple days. I don't have a lot planned for after Erwin and Levi get together, and I'm not sure how far into canon I'm willing to write, or if I will deviate from canon entirely, because honestly, (SPOILER) if I were to write anything after Erwin loses his arm, things would get very dark very fast and never really recover. There would be no happy ending, and while I love writing mental illness and dark themes I don't like dark endings and I hate writing major character death. That being said, I do have some ideas for when Eren enters the picture, though my original plans have changed drastically. When I first started writing this story, I imagined that Eren and Levi would get together at some point - it's why Levi is so significantly aged down from canon, I was trying to reduce the age gap. I no longer think I'm going to head in that direction.

That is all to say, I'm not planning on ending the story once Levi and Erwin get together, but I haven't decided how far further I'll go, or if I'll stick with canon. For the time being, I still have several chapters planned, though as a warning, I will have less time to write in the next couple months.

If you read all that, then thank you, and please let me know what you think of this chapter and these plans. I so, so appreciate all of your feedback!

Chapter 17: Violence

Summary:

There's a carriage and cake.

Notes:

(Phase one, people.)

 

 

           Levi’s having a bad day.

            He admits that this is partly his own fault. His restricted eating has finally caught up with him again. He passes out during the middle of a run. He hits his head on the way down and has to go to medical to be checked for a concussion (he doesn’t have one) and to have the wound on the side of his head looked at (two stitches).

            And then it starts raining. And then it starts pouring. And then a fog rolls in and there are a few flickers of lightening, and it is fucking November, the season for thunderstorms is over, and yet there Levi is, sitting in a small room off the kitchen because it is the only place he can find with no windows and he cannot fucking deal with this right now.

            It’s been almost eight years, and weather like this still gets to him.

            Not as badly as it used to. For the first year after their deaths, Levi felt physically ill, dizzy and nauseas whenever it rained heavily. Now it just ignites a familiar ache, but he’s tired and he’s not doing well.

Levi cannot seem to drag himself out of the hole he’d fallen into when Dorcia and Artur died and every day that goes by it seems harder to get out of it, starts feeling more and more like he never will. It reminds him too much of how he’d felt the couple months before he’d tried to kill himself. It had been one thing after another, and it felt like sinking into mud, and then it felt like getting stuck in that mud, and then it felt like drowning in it.

            Levi’s somewhere between sinking and getting stuck. It’s a little over two weeks after the shit trip outside wall Rosa, a month and a half after Artur and Dorcia. He should feel better by now. He’ll start feeling better soon, he tells himself.

            Levi sits on a crate in the small room, where he can forget about the weather and barely hear the thunder, and leans his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He tries to breathe slowly, deeply. After a couple minutes he opens his eyes and pulls out a knife.

            It’s been a long time since he last cut himself, he thinks as he pulls the blade over the skin of his wrist, feels the sharp pain as blood wells up. It’s not a deep cut, and it doesn’t provide the relief that Levi was hoping for. He flips the switchblade shut again. It never helps when he feels like this. He’s not sure why he tried.

            Levi goes to Erwin’s room, because this is what he does now when he’s not feeling well. He goes to Erwin’s room, picks the lock, uses his bath, changes into sleep clothes and brushes his teeth. By the time he comes out of Erwin’s washroom, Erwin is there and has changed as well. Erwin smiles at him, and then his expression drops.

            “What happened?” he says, and Levi remembers the bandage on his head.

            “Passed out running. It’s fine, just needed a couple stitches,” he says.

            Erwin keeps frowning at him, and Levi thinks he’s going to mention his eating again (and Levi so, so does not want that conversation right now) but then he says, “What’s wrong?”

            Levi blinks at him for a moment, and then he shrugs. He walks to the bed and sits down on what has become the side he always sleeps on when he’s there.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. There is too much concern there. Levi turns away from him.

            Erwin pauses, Levi says nothing.

            “Levi, what’s wrong?” Erwin says again, and this time Levi looks back, meets his worried blue eyes. And once again, Levi thinks about telling him.

            Sometimes I think about killing myself, Levi could say, because sometimes and think are easier than today and want. But what would he say then? What good would that do? What could Erwin possibly say that would help? (He doesn’t anyway, really. It’s an ache, not a sharp pain today.)

            Erwin looks back at him, and Levi realizes he’s just sitting there, just staring for too long, but then Erwin sits on the bed next to him and reaches over and hugs him.

            Levi is just as surprised as he was the last time Erwin hugged him, but this time he settles more slowly, lets his arms wrap around Erwin’s back, lets his head tilt down slightly. He can smell Erwin’s soap. His throat and chest tighten at the same time as his stomach unknots and it is such a strange feeling. He wants Erwin to stay right there with him and wants to run at the same time. He feels like Erwin could pull him apart, rip him in two, if he wanted to, and somehow is much more scared by how much he trusts Erwin not to than by the knowledge that he could.

            “I’m doing badly,” Levi says, and is surprised when he hears the words come out of his mouth. They are much flatter, much more apathetic than he feels.

            “What can I do to help?” Erwin says.

            Neither of them move. Levi breathes. It is too intimate. Levi releases his hold and draws back. Erwin lets go, but he still sits next to him on the side of the bed. He starts rubbing circles over his back and Levi doesn’t want to admit that it feels good.

            “I don’t know,” Levi says. (Pointless, part of him says.)

            “Can I get you tea?” Erwin says. Levi shrugs, and Erwin frowns. “Levi, what do you mean by doing badly?” he says. His voice is gentle, prodding.

            Levi doesn’t know how to answer that. He doesn’t know how to describe the sinking, stuck, exhausted and painful feeling in his chest. His eyes fix on the wall in front of him, where a clock hangs. “You’re back late,” Levi says.

            “Yes, I had some last-minute arrangements to make,” Erwin says.

            “What for?”

            “It’s about the funding,” Erwin says, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow in the morning meeting.”

            Levi frowns. That’s unlike him. They often talk about things which will be officially discussed at future meetings. “What about the funding?”

            “You’re changing the subject,” Erwin says.

            “I don’t know what you want, Erwin,” Levi says.

            Erwin sighs. Levi can practically hear the same, old argument, about Levi not letting Erwin help him. But Levi is there, he’s in his room. He’s been feeling shit for a month and a half now and hasn’t done anything stupid, and honestly, that’s a fucking accomplishment, Levi thinks.

            “You know exactly what I want,” Erwin says. “It’s the only thing I have ever wanted when you aren’t doing well.”

            Levi knows that their relationship is somewhat lopsided, that Levi’s fucked up brain means Erwin spends a lot more time helping him than Levi does helping Erwin. Levi isn’t so self-depreciating as to not realize that he does in fact help Erwin as well – he has been there after every expedition, after every time Erwin sends soldiers to their deaths, and he has seen the dark look in Erwin’s eyes too many times now to not realize that Erwin too needs a break from his own mind, that Levi has been there to break him out of it on many occasions. But the help that Levi gives is subtler, and Erwin’s thoughts less explosive, and there is a subtle draw of resentment and vulnerability that grows more and more as the frequency with which Levi seeks out Erwin and the depth to which he allows Erwin into his thoughts increases.

            He doesn’t know what to do about that. He doesn’t want to withdraw and his self-esteem is not quite bad enough to see himself as a burden – he knows that Erwin enjoys his company, knows that Erwin doesn’t mind helping him, that Erwin cares about him, knows that if he were to withdraw it would hurt Erwin much more than him staying. But it is bothering him more and more, how he is always the one to need help. It didn’t used to, and he’s not sure why it has cropped up now.

            He looks down at his lap, fists the sheets in both his hands by his sides. He is in Erwin’s bed too much. He sleeps in Erwin’s room too much. He’d have to be an idiot to not realize what it looks like. Maybe that’s where it’s coming from. He won’t leave though – he doesn’t want to, and he knows Erwin doesn’t want him to.

It reminds him, suddenly, of when he gets the attacks of pain – how he will ask for them to sit with him but not for them to hold his hand. How he will cry but won’t let himself sob. How it is a barely controlled breaking.

            So there he is, still in Erwin’s room, sitting on his bed – and it is really not that different at all.

            (Why not? some part of him thinks.)

            (Coward, liar.)

            It feels like losing control. Does he know what he wants? He can’t have it. (Why?)

            Levi puts his head in his hands, rests his elbows on his knees, shuts his eyes. Erwin’s hand on his back, over his shirt, smooth, slow, human. A part of Levi wants him to stop. He almost tells him to.

            Yes, Levi thinks, abruptly. Yes, it is because of this that he is now becoming bothered by the fact that Erwin helps him much more than he helps Erwin. Because Levi can’t tell, can’t separate it – Levi is looking for comfort. Erwin wants to comfort someone he cares about. Is that all it really is? That’s why Levi’s here, isn’t it?

            And what is the difference, Levi thinks, because he cannot begin to actually tell the difference.

            “Erwin,” he says.

            “Yes?”

            “Why do you let me stay here?”

            Levi is not looking at Erwin, still rests his head in his hands, eyes open now though, looking down. He expects hesitation, because Erwin often hesitates when Levi says sudden things like this – Levi knows he has a tendency to change topics abruptly, but Erwin doesn’t hesitate at all this time. Erwin’s voice is gentle and almost but not quite strained, a sincerity that is deep enough to come just short of distress.

           “Because it makes you feel better, Levi,” Erwin says, “and I want you to feel better.”

            It is somehow not at all what Levi had hoped to hear.

 

 

 

            Not two days later Levi and Erwin are in a carriage bound for Mitras. Hange and Mike have been left in charge. Levi is not happy about this.

            “I don’t see why you had to take me,” he says, tapping his foot restlessly in the seat across from Erwin. It’s just the two of them going, which is not normal. Usually Hange, Mike, and a handful of other soldiers accompany them as well. But this has been a short notice surprise visit – the nobles don’t even know they’re coming. If things go on as they had, then Erwin’s sure that the Corps won’t get their promised funding for another two months at least, with the way that the letters are so back and forth.

            “You are good for the press,” Erwin says.

            “The nobles hate me,” Levi says.

            “The nobles are afraid of you.”

            “I’m pretty damn sure they don’t like me either.”

            Erwin smiles. “I suppose not.”

            Levi slips his fingers under the lip of the seat, pulls his hand away and scrunches his nose at the dust on his fingers. He wipes his hand on the seat cushion, feels his skin itch, feels the gritty dust there.

            Levi does not do well on carriage rides. The dust doesn’t help, but really it’s more the confined space and inability to move around. He’s not sure why they had to take the carriage – why they couldn’t just take horses. He thinks Erwin just wants to make an entrance.

            All part of the show.

            Levi isn’t wrong. When they get into the city, Erwin has the carriage driver let them out in the middle of the square, the busiest part of the city, where dozens of people will see them make the hundred meter walk into the capitol building, survey corps emblems clearly on display. People turn to look at them immediately. They are the two most recognizable members of the survey corps.

            Erwin and Levi walk up the steps and the guards allow them into the building with a quick word from Erwin. It is much more difficult to gain entry to the actual meeting room. They are currently in session, which Levi wonders how Erwin was sure of, or if they got lucky. (No, he thinks, after a moment of consideration, he’s positive that Erwin knew for a fact that they’d be in session, though Levi doesn’t know how he knew this.)

            This takes some time. The military police guards don’t want to let Erwin in. They look nervously at each other. Erwin starts his charming routine, and it almost surprises Levi, how quickly he tunes into that and matches conversely. He lets his expression fall to a dissatisfied, impatient frown, meeting the two guards’ eyes when they fall anxiously to him, glaring at them. He crosses his arms in front of him, raises one eyebrow slightly.

            They are let in. Barely. Erwin more or less simply moves by them. Levi follows as the two guards sputter.

            Erwin and Levi stride into the room. Everyone looks up to see them.

            “Gentlemen,” Erwin says, smiling. “I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness. I would have sent a letter but found it just as quick to arrive myself.”

            Thus begins the meeting.

            Chairs are procured and Levi chooses to stay standing rather than sit down. He stands beside Erwin with his hands clasped behind his back. He listens to the back and forth and watches the nobles’ detesting looks. They glance at him with variations of disgust, nervousness, and resentment. They look at Erwin with only the last.

            It’s only a rumor to them that Levi is from the underground, and a criminal at that. He wonders if they assume (correctly) that he was just some street rat before coming to the corps or if the disgust on their faces is solely from the way he’s spoken out at previous meetings.

            They don’t get a guarantee of funding that day, though Levi has done this enough times and watched Erwin do this enough times to know that Erwin hadn’t expected to get it on the first day. They only stay for under an hour, before Erwin smiles, says that he knows they have other things to discuss, and says he will be back tomorrow.

            On the first day, Erwin leaves Levi at the inn they’re staying at and goes to have dinner with one of the nobles. On the second day he tells Levi that he needs him to come with to a different dinner.

            “No,” Levi says.

            “I need your presence,” Erwin says. It comes out enough of an order that Levi scowls.

            “Why?”

            “I’m going to threaten him.”

            Levi sighs. Yes, Levi is always there when Erwin needs to threaten someone. Like a dog on a leash, Levi thinks. He’s not sure if he’s bitter about that or just annoyed. He doesn’t care what the nobles think of him and it can be very useful to have people afraid of you. It was something he had been very proud of in the underground – when he was a child and people knew him as Kenny’s feral brat, violent and a deceptively good, aggressive fighter. Then as the kid who hung around the Six’s, Farlan’s gang. They used to call him Baby Ringer (a name Levi detested) because at thirteen, when he looked more like he was ten, he won several matches in an illegal fighting ring. And then he was Levi, territory on the north end by Cordwood street, who had a crew who could steal anything, move any product, who never lost a fight. He had a reputation for quick violence and a calm demeanor, as someone who could move faster than should be possible, who no one wanted to get in a fight with.

            And now he is Humanity’s Strongest to the public and to the soldiers in the Corps. He is Erwin’s rabid dog to the nobility.

            (He wonders if he will ever have a reputation that isn’t hinged on violence.)

            “You know I’ll be shit at that stuff,” Levi says, irritated.

            “You don’t have to be good at it,” Erwin says. “You just have to be there.”

            Erwin’s voice is tired. Levi knows the dinner the previous night did not go well. He scowls. “Where is this dinner taking place?” Levi says.

            “Camaraderie’s on Center street.”

            “Goddamn, Erwin, you can’t take me into a place like that,” Levi says. It’s about as upscale as it gets. Levi’s not exactly a slob when it comes to eating but he does not have the etiquette that Erwin does. Erwin has taught him before all of the right spoons to use and how the courses go, but it doesn’t mean Levi doesn’t always look out of place there. He refuses to hold his teacup the way Erwin tells him to.

            “You’ll be fine,” Erwin says.

            There’s a note of finality to Erwin’s tone that makes Levi seethe, but he says nothing more.

 

 

            They have a square table, which means Levi is next to Erwin and Dieter Vogel. Vogel’s wife Lena sits directly across from Levi and seems to spend the entire meal trying to avoid eye contact with him. Levi sits and glowers, occasionally answers if Erwin prompts him. The food might quite possibly be the best he has ever eaten, and he can’t even enjoy it. His stomach is still not cooperating with him and he’s full after three bites. He eats more anyway because if he has to be there then he might as well get something out of it, and the food does taste very good. Erwin, Dieter, and Lena all order wine, but despite the fact that Levi would love nothing more than a (preferably strong) drink, Levi is not passing up the chance for Sina tea. He is not disappointed.

            He orders wine on the second course anyway, finished with it by the third, when Dieter orders another round of drinks. Levi doesn’t know if Dieter or Erwin is paying, hopes it’s Dieter because the prices aren’t even listed on the menu and Levi doesn’t want to know what this is all costing.

            “And what about you, Erwin, are you courting any ladies?” Lena asks, smiling almost teasingly at Erwin over her glass. Levi nearly rolls his eyes. Courting.

            “Too busy, I’m afraid,” Erwin says, smiling.

            “Oh, come now, you’ll be old and gray before you ever take a wife,” she says.

            “Nothing wrong with getting a career under you first,” Dieter says. Levi glances over at him. Dieter’s old but not that old – mid forties probably? Levi looks at Lena. She’s not terribly young – definitely younger than Dieter, probably by a good ten years, but not much more than that. Means they probably got married another ten years back. Women of Lena’s social standing didn’t wait until their thirties to get married.

            “And what about you, Levi, any women on your horizon?” Dieter asks.

            “No,” Levi says drily.

            He hopes his tone is clear enough to shut down any further questioning, but the Vogel’s are either very stupid or very uncaring because it does not.

            “The two most eligible bachelors in the Survey Corps,” Lena says, smiling. There’s an edge to her voice and a way her eyes flick over him that has Levi raising an eyebrow. She’s been subtly flirting with Erwin all night, right there in front of her husband too, and now Levi can’t tell if she’s doing the same to him or if she’s mocking him. He’s inclined to believe the latter but really it could be either.

            Dieter lets out a laugh. Erwin smiles placidly. Levi takes another drink of wine.

            “You should come to Sina more often,” she says. “The both of you. Take a break, come to some balls.”

            “Not much for balls,” Levi says.

            “We really don’t have the time I’m afraid,” Erwin says.

            The conversation goes on and Levi tunes most of it out. Nearing the end of the meal Lena feigns tiredness and Dieter suggests that she take the carriage back home. It’s little more than a social nicety, rather than outright dismissing her. It always goes like this. The wives, sometimes the children as well if they are present, are dismissed before the final course so that the men can talk. It leaves a sick taste in Levi’s mouth. The women of inner Sina are, more often then not, little more than a decoration – or at least, that is what their husbands would prefer that they be. Decorations with sex appeal.

            Levi tries to picture Hange here. She went to a university in Sina – not in Mitras, but still in Sina. He cannot imagine men attempting to treat her the way that is so common here. He’s pretty sure Hange would blow their heads off in an unfortunate “accident.”

            But Lena leaves, and Dieter and Erwin spend a few more moments pretending that they are not here to argue about money. Erwin waits for Dieter to bring it up.

            “I heard that you were in the council session yesterday,” Dieter says. “I wasn’t there myself of course but we’ve spoken a bit about it among my colleagues.” Dieter was a lesser noble – on the court but not the council. Still, very rich.

            Levi tunes out again. He orders another cup of tea with desert. A slice of cake is put in front of him. Cake. With frosting. Chocolate no less.

            Levi has had cake only a handful of times, all of them on trips to Mitras like this, where he was required at some fancy restaurant. He is only vaguely paying attention as Erwin brings up something about Dieter’s finances as he lifts a small forkful to his mouth. It’s so sweet that Levi nearly coughs, and yet it is very, very good. He’s not sure he can handle all the frosting. He notices the change in Erwin and Dieter’s tones before he really pays attention to their words.

            Time to threaten, Levi thinks, taking another bite of cake. He switches his fork to his left hand and picks up his knife with the other, spins in between his fingers in what he knows is a showy, obvious display without even looking up, taking one more bite before he sighs and sits back in his chair again, still idly playing with the steak knife.

            Dieter eyes him warily but his attention is still on Erwin. Levi glances around the restaurant but they are seated far enough from anyone else and no one appears to be listening.

            The word embezzling catches Levi’s ear, and his attention snaps back to the conversation.

            “I think you’ll find I have quite sufficient evidence,” Erwin says. He smiles. “And Nile Dok owes me a favor.”

            “I know a bluff when I see one, Erwin,” Dieter says, unmoved. “If you really had the information that you claim to – and mind you, I admit to nothing – then you wouldn’t have waited until this funding crisis to bring it up.”

            “They denied funding two weeks ago,” Levi says, drawing attention to himself and thus to the knife. Dieter’s eyes flick from him to it. “Why do you think we waited so long?”

            Levi has no idea if that’s why Erwin waited until now. He knows Erwin well enough to know he wouldn’t completely bluff, but he also doubts Erwin has all the evidence he says he does. Enough to implicate him but probably not enough to prove it in court, if Levi had to guess.

            Dieter’s expression falters just the slightest bit though and Levi knows he’s done his job. The nobles also tend to think of him as stupid, which is helpful when trying to manipulate them.

            Erwin smiles placidly at Dieter again.

            “I’m not buying it,” Dieter says though, crossing his arms, frowning at Erwin. “There is no way for you to have the information that you claim to. I don’t care who’s on your team and who you’re using as informants, there is no way possible that you could have eyes where you would need them.”

            No pretense then, Levi thinks. Somewhat surprising – normally they feign some semblance of innocence until the last word, if only to mock them. Means he’s either worried or very confident.

            “That would be a problem for most, considering you’re using Underground warehouses as your storage point,” Erwin says.

            What?

            Levi’s eyes snap over to Erwin, widening, eyebrows going in. You had better fucking not have, Levi thinks. Erwin’s eyes flick to him for only a moment. It’s only a second but Levi sees a certain apology there. He fucking did.

            Levi realizes very quickly the real reason Erwin brought him.

            Dieter raises an eyebrow. “If that is supposed to impress me then you are more desperate than I thought,” he says. “I suggest you take the generous offer I made already and stop now before you only embarrass yourself.”

            And there is Erwin’s smile again, placid and yet biting. It’s gone sharp around the edges. “Yes, that information would do me very little good,” Erwin says. “You know how hard it is to gather information down there, to find any reliable help – certainly even more difficult if the team was well paid and small, tightly monitored. A private staircase perhaps. You’re quite close with one of the merchants who owns one, no?”

            (Levi can’t help the images that flash through his mind, watching the staircases from the streets, watching goods come in and out, Isabel and her ridiculous plight to get a bird back to the surface.)

            Erwin’s statement is a gamble, Levi’s sure of it. It’s a good guess and Levi watches Dieter for a sign if it’s true or not, and Dieter tenses only the slightest bit, expression remaining blank. Correct. This is the first Levi’s heard about this and whatever lie Erwin is about to spin, Levi is sure from this point out it will be a lie.

            “More useless information,” Dieter says. “Give it up, Erwin.”

            “Again, you’re right of course, that information would be pretty useless,” Erwin says, “you’re right that it’s very difficult to gain reliable information, never mind proof, out of such an operation. Tell me, Dieter, have you heard the rumor of how I met Levi?”

            Levi blinks for a second before his stomach lurches. No, Levi thinks, tell me he fucking didn’t. Levi is going to kill Erwin. Going to murder him. He turns his gaze solely on Erwin for a long moment, glaring intently, trying to get the message across. You had better not go any fucking farther, Shitty Fucking Eyebrows.

            Erwin, as usual, does not listen.

            “Levi grew up in the Underground,” Erwin says. Levi feels sick suddenly, his stomach turning and the sugar taste on his teeth suddenly turning acidic. “Actually, he was a pretty successful gang leader.” (An exaggeration – he had a crew and territory, not a gang. Their faces flash in front of him: Jan, Elias, Luca. He wonders if any of them are still alive.) Erwin turns to him. There is still something sharp in his eyes which Dieter will probably mistake for the same harshness, but Levi can see it. I need you to do this for me. It’s an order. “Tell me, Levi, what were the crimes you were wanted for?”

            Fucking hell.

            Levi grits his teeth, glares one last moment at Erwin. Fuck you and your fucking Eyebrows and whatever the hell shitty game this is Smith. He’s furious but it’s subdued by how ill he feels.

            But he grits his teeth and forces his expression into a more apathetic look even as his stomach turns again and his chest feels tight before turning back to Dieter. His voice is steady and disinterested when he speaks.

            “Theft, burglary, stole ODM from Military Police. Stole money out of a safe from Military Police too. A few murders. Pretty sure only the high profile ones wound up on a record – the military police we knifed, a merchant, a pimp. Allegedly.” He looks back at Erwin. “Dunno, Erwin, it’s been a long time. Pretty sure they keep records of that stuff in the archives though. Could probably look it up.” He pauses, and then turns back to Dieter. “Oh yeah, and me and my crew moved a shit ton of illegal product. Come to think of it, we even guarded some of their warehouses.”

            Dieter’s face goes a shade paler and his eyes widen and go still, and it is almost worth this fucking disaster just to see it.

            Levi shrugs. “But really, if you don’t believe me, it should all be in the military police records. Well, not all of it. Couldn’t tie it all back to me.”

            “I think you will find that we are uniquely situated to having particular information about the Underground,” Erwin says. “In fact, I would even go so far as to say we are better informed about and better at infiltrating happenings in the Underground than in Mitras itself.”

            Dieter’s expression slowly morphs into a deep scowl. “What do you want, Erwin?”

 

 

            Levi waits until they are all the way into the carriage before he shoves Erwin down into his seat.

            “What the fuck was that?” Levi says. “What in the fucking hell, Erwin?”

            Levi is furious. He feels sick. He doesn’t know if it’s the wine or how he’d already been on edge or if it’s just his stupid fucking brain, but the conversation has left him reeling and unsteady and with a sinking, almost trapped feeling in his chest. It’s been a long time since he’s felt that familiar sinking despair that is thick as smog in the Underground, palpably tangible. He’s not sure if it was the abruptness, the unexpectedness of the conversation or if he would have been left feeling this way regardless.

            Erwin grimaces. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It was the only way I could –”

            “You could have at least fucking told me you were gonna pull that shit,” Levi says. “Pretty sure you didn’t have to completely blindside me.”

            Erwin grimaces some more. “I know, I’m sorry. I knew you would react –”

            “What, like this?” Levi says. “Think I’d get mad so you decided you just wouldn’t say anything at all? Think you’d just let me deal with it instead? Did you think making me feel like shit out of nowhere would be better than giving me some fucking warning at all?”

            The expression on Erwin’s face doesn’t change. It goes almost resigned.

            “Fucking hell, Erwin, say something,” Levi says.

            “I wanted to spare you the anticipation,” Erwin says.

            “Bullshit,” Levi says, “you wanted to spare yourself an argument. What, were you worried I wouldn’t do it? That I wouldn’t go with you if I knew? When have I ever said no, Erwin? When have you ever given me an order that I’ve refused?”

            “No, I didn’t think you’d refuse,” Erwin says slowly. “I –”

            “Then what, you thought I couldn’t pull it off, would lose my temper in the middle of dinner? Give me a real fucking reason, Erwin.”

            Levi’s furious. He’s even more furious that Erwin seems to almost be floundering. He always has an answer, always has a reason, even if Levi doesn’t like it, doesn’t agree with it. Levi stares at him.

            “You really just didn’t want a shitty argument, did you?” Levi says. “You seriously put me through that shit because you didn’t want to hear me bitch about it ahead of time.” He stares at Erwin and Erwin winces and Levi can’t fucking stand it. “Fuck you,” he says. “I can’t fucking believe –”

            “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. “I didn’t realize –”

            “That I’d be this angry? That whatever argument you were trying to avoid was just going to be worse?”

            “That you’d be this upset,” Erwin says, “that the conversation would be that painful for you.”

            Levi stares at him for a moment. “Are you serious?” he says. “You fucking bring up the Underground, tell some lowlife pig about my past, which I don’t tell anyone about, which I never fucking talk about, ask me to describe the crimes I’ve committed, and you thought it wouldn’t be painful?”

            “Not… this much,” Erwin says.

            Levi stares again for a moment. He could almost laugh. He feels like shit. “I could fucking punch you, Erwin,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks back at him, resigned, open. “Alright.”

            Levi stares again. This time Levi stares at him for a long moment, feels something go still in his chest as Erwin just looks back at him. “Fucking hell, Erwin, I’m not gonna punch you.”

            Erwin’s expression only shifts slightly. “I’d understand.”

            And suddenly Levi’s upset in a whole new way, and he doesn’t know if it’s just because they’re in Mitras and Levi has had to play the rabid dog for two days now, or if it’s because he’d already been on edge before they even came here, or if it’s just Erwin’s shitty decisions, but Levi feels numb and cold and like shit.

            “You really think I’d do that?” Levi says. “You really think I’d hurt you because I’m angry with you?”

            Erwin’s expression goes uncertain around the edges but it’s not an uncertainty about Levi punching him, it’s a confusion, an appraisal of Levi’s response. He does, Levi thinks bitterly.

            Levi sits down in the carriage. Erwin’s been sitting, too tall to stand up in the confined space, but Levi can just barely stand up, and he had been. Now he sits down. He stares across at Erwin, exhausted suddenly.

            Do you think of me as that rabid dog too? Levi thinks. “When the fuck have I hurt you?” Levi says.

            “I don’t think you’d ever really hurt me,” Erwin says carefully. “I know you wouldn’t. But you do have a tendency… to get physical when you’re upset.”

            “I’ve shoved you,” Levi says. “I’ve never hurt you.” He thinks of Kenny and his belt. Kenny didn’t get angry very often, but when he did Levi knew to get out and not come back for a day or so. “I don’t hurt the people I care about when I’m angry,” he says. He never hit Isabel. He’d gotten in a couple fights with Furlan but it was when they were young, when they’d only known each other a few months. He’s never hurt Hange. He’s never even really hurt Mike, and he hates Mike. He’s certainly never taken his anger out on his squad. He’s mildly injured them in training exercises before, sometimes even to make a point, but he’s never hurt one of them because he was angry.

            He will never hit Erwin in a moment of anger. Or at least, Erwin would have to do a hell of a lot more than he did today. Levi can’t imagine what Erwin could do – mock Isabel and Furlan’s deaths maybe? But he’d never do something like that.

            Erwin looks back at him. He looks back at the sad, pained expression on Levi’s face and feels his stomach sink with a rapid guilt. He realizes as soon as Levi sits down that he’s made a mistake.

            Because Erwin had half expected Levi to punch him, and yet… Levi is right. Excluding their fight in the Underground and when Isabel and Furlan died, Levi has never hurt him. He’s shoved him and fought to be let go when Erwin held him down, he’s thrown things and screamed, but even that was controlled. Erwin remembers when Levi threw a teacup and plate at him, when the attacks of pain first started up again. But Levi hadn’t thrown them at him. He’d thrown them at the wall next to him, the shards not even close enough to hit him indirectly.

            “Levi –” Erwin starts.

            “Shut up,” Levi says. He turns and looks out the window and they ride in silence.

 

 

            The more that Erwin thinks about it, the more that he thinks that Levi is being unfair.

            Erwin paces in his room at the inn that they’re staying in, an hour after he and Levi got back. Levi had immediately gone to his own room and slammed the door. He was obviously very upset, was not just angry anymore but hurt, yet Erwin kept pacing, growing more agitated.

            Because Levi had thrown things almost at him, close enough that he had flinched, even if he wasn’t actually hurt. And Levi had shoved him hard enough to make him stumble. Levi had fought him when Erwin tried to hold him down, had elbowed and kicked, and it had been uncoordinated and frantic, panicked – Erwin doesn’t hold it against him, doesn’t blame him – but it had still happened. Erwin had still had to fight with him.

He knows Levi would never really hurt him, but was it really that crazy that Erwin thought there was a chance Levi might take a swing at him? Levi’s always had a tendency towards quick, but controlled, violence, and it is not something that Erwin has ever tried to change about him. And Erwin doesn’t really know why Levi’s so hurt by it anyway. What if he had? What if he had punched Erwin in the carriage? Erwin would have a bruise or maybe even a black eye for a few days. He never thought Levi would hit him hard. Erwin might think Levi was overreacting, but he wouldn’t have been that angry with him. Especially not tonight, because Erwin had felt guilty, still feels a little like he deserves it – he really hadn’t thought it through, hadn’t realized how upset the conversation would make Levi. He’d been surprised by the amount of pain on his face when they’d first entered the carriage. He’d expected Levi to be annoyed, not hurt.

            Erwin gets tired of pacing. He makes a decision and walks out of his room. He knocks rapidly at Levi’s door. He gets no answer and opens it anyway.

            “What’s even the damn point of knocking?” Levi says. He’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His eyes flick to Erwin, bitter and guarded, still angry, though it’s cooled to something more subdued.

            “You need to explain to me why you are so upset with me,” Erwin says, “because you are being unfair.”

            Both of Levi’s eyebrows raise. “Unfair. I’m being unfair?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says, teeth setting.

            Levi stares at him, and then he scowls. “How the hell am I being unfair, Erwin? Please, do tell.”

            “You’ve thrown cups and plates at me, I’ve had to fight you to get you to stop scraping your skin raw, you’ve shoved me away, you’ve threatened me more times than I can count, is it really that strange that I thought there was a chance you were going to hit me? You shoved me down into my seat not five minutes earlier and then just said that you could punch me.”

            “I wasn’t going to actually do it,” Levi says. “I threaten everyone. You know I threaten everyone. How often have you actually seen me hurt someone? And why the hell do you think I’d hurt you? If there was ever someone I wasn’t going to hurt, it would be you.”

            “I don’t believe that at all,” Erwin says. He thinks about the amount of times Levi’s gotten angry with him. “Why would you hold back with me of all people?”

            A burst of emotion crosses rapidly across Levi’s eyes. “You fucking know why.”

            His eyes are sharp and dangerous, a little of that off-kilter, wild look. “You lose your temper with me more than with anyone else,” Erwin says. “I push. You’re more likely to lash out at me than anyone else.”

            “That’s not true,” Levi says. His voice is hissed, tight, and then he stands suddenly, comes to stand only a foot away from Erwin in the small room. “Tell me when I’ve hurt you, Erwin. I asked you before what I’d done to hurt you and you said nothing. I’ve obviously done something, so tell me.”

            “You pick fights,” Erwin says before he really knows what he’s saying. Levi’s staring up at him with those sharp, angled eyes, demanding, and Erwin thinks some of that off-kilter wildness is rubbing off on him. “You pick fights like this one and don’t tell me what you’re really upset about. And then I have to guess, or otherwise chase you.” He keeps looking at Levi’s eyes and the words come fast and not thought out. “You don’t talk to me. You don’t let me help you. You don’t ask for what you want, and I don’t know if it’s because you’re scared or just too prideful, if it’s because you don’t trust me or if you don’t trust yourself.”

            Erwin pauses. Levi keeps looking at him. None of the intensity has left his gaze but it’s become more focused. There’s not guilt there but there’s also nothing defensive, nothing trying to deflect or mitigate or argue. “That’s not all,” Levi says after a moment.  

            It’s not, Erwin realizes. “You constantly worry me,” Erwin says, and he feels he’s only just now realizing that it’s true, that somewhere along the line concern turned to fear. “I am constantly worried that you are not going to eat or are going to hurt yourself or are going to do something reckless enough to get yourself killed. Half the time you talk about suicide like you’re commenting on the weather and the other half it seems like you view it as some divine fantasy. You keep giving me bits and pieces of your past but won’t explain them.”

            “I don’t owe you that information,” Levi says, lips pressed thin.

            “You don’t,” Erwin says. “But you asked me how you’d hurt me, not what I’ve been angry with you for.” Erwin pauses for only a moment. “I’m not sure you understand the difference, that hurt and blame don’t always go hand in hand. I think you understand forgiveness and guilt and regret but not blame at all. I think you want me to tell you something right now that you can blame yourself for, I think you’re looking for another way to hurt yourself. You’re not doing this for me as a way of letting me speak, and you don’t want to be forgiven. You want to be punished.”

            “Why don’t you hit me then,” Levi says. “Since you’re so sure that’s what I want.”

            “Why?” Erwin says, but he’s not asking why Levi has asked him to hit him. He searches Levi’s eyes, tries to see something there.

            “I don’t want to be forgiven,” Levi says, “but I’m not looking to punish myself either, Erwin. I want to know what the fuck I did to make you think I’d punch you over a shitty argument.”

            There’s finally something else, something slipping behind that mask. Erwin sees hurt again.

            “I don’t understand why you think you had to have done something horrible,” Erwin says. “I don’t understand why you are so upset by this.”

            “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt I was just a weapon to you, Erwin,” Levi says.

            Erwin is surprised and even more confused. “I don’t understand,” he says.

            “Do you still see me as a fucked up violent thug?”

            Erwin’s eyes widen again, and he’s almost more surprised at the amount of suspicion and certainty in Levi’s gaze as he says it than the words themselves. Erwin is half inclined to tell Levi that he sounds ridiculous. “Of course not,” Erwin says. “Why would you think that?”

             “You think that I will hurt the people I care about if they make me angry. You think that if I get angry enough, if I lose control, then I will hurt you,” Levi says, “You should know by now that when I lose control I only ever hurt myself.”

            “I don’t view a single, weak punch as such a violent and uncontrolled action,” Erwin says. “I –”

            “Would you hit me?” Levi says. “If you were angry at me, would you hurt me because you were angry with me?”

            “No,” Erwin says, “but –” But Levi is not Erwin, Levi has always been more physical, more violent.

            “Do you think I ever hit Isabel, if I got angry at her?” Levi says, and Erwin is thrown by the sudden image. “Do you think I punched Furlan when I was angry with him?”

            “I –” Erwin starts because he doesn’t know. He can’t imagine Levi would hit Isabel – he always seemed particularly protective of her – but he really doesn’t know what Levi’s relationship was like with either of them beyond that the three were very close. He doesn’t know if Levi would hit Furlan if they got into a bad enough argument, though by the way Levi phrases it, the answer is clear. “No,” Erwin says, “I guess –”

            “Then why the hell do you think I’d hurt you?” Levi says.

            “I’m not Furlan and Isabel,” Erwin says, because he’s thrown by this too. The comparison is – he doesn’t even have time to think about it, isn’t sure how to interpret that.

            Levi glares at him. “No,” he says, “you’re not.” Obviously is tacked at the end of Levi’s words, like Erwin’s just said something stupid.

            “They were your family,” Erwin says, because he can’t understand the connection Levi is making, because their relationship is not like Levi’s relationship with them, because Erwin had not though Levi viewed their relationship as important as his relationship with them –”

            “What the hell do you think you are to me?” Levi says.

            A chill goes down Erwin’s back and everything is going too quickly. He can’t process the confusing mix of bitterness and pleased closeness through the shock. “You think of me as family?” he says, and he only really realizes that there is some kind of disappointment swimming in that mix when he hears it in his own voice.

            Levi looks at him. There is no apathy on his face now, no apathy or blankness in his eyes. The anger is there but it’s no longer clouding everything else, just a part among the rest. The mask is gone, and Erwin doesn’t think he’s ever seen this look in Levi’s eyes.

            “You are either the most repressed bastard that I have ever met,” Levi says, “or you are a fucking idiot, Erwin Smith.”

            Levi pushes past him and is gone before Erwin can even turn.

           

 

Notes:

OK people, we might finally get somewhere.

Your thoughts??? Please let me know what you thought of this chapter, I would love to hear your opinions!

Chapter 18: Catalyst

Summary:

Pebbles, words - Levi's pessimism and Erwin's insecurity make a bad combination.

Notes:

Phase two.

 

 

           Levi is not in the habit of allowing himself to crave impossible things.

In fact, he has spent a lifetime avoiding thinking about the things he wants but knows he will never have. When he was a child it was meat and a family and comfort. When he was a teen in the underground it was easy money and security and running water. And then it was wishing to go back, to have never come to the surface, to have never allowed Isabel and Furlan to go outside the wall, to have stayed back with them instead of going to kill Erwin.

            He doesn’t allow himself and never has allowed himself to dwell on any of them. It is pointless, and only upsets him. He cannot have these things, and by this point, it is less a choice and more a reflex, an automatic and unconscious mental block. He doesn’t think about the things he cannot have, and he has spent so much time reinforcing that tactic that now they don’t even register, don’t crop up, don’t invade his thoughts, are never more than a passing and vague feeling of remiss. The things he desires and cannot have stay nicely packed away in the bottom recesses of his mind.

            And Erwin Smith is something he can’t have.

            It is not with any profound realization that Levi recognizes that Erwin is more than a friend to him, or at least, that he’d like Erwin to be more than a friend to him. He’s found Erwin attractive since he met him, as he is sure everyone else Erwin has ever met has found him. He developed trust in Erwin slowly – very slowly. And he’s still not really sure when that trust turned friendship turned closeness tipped to somewhere Levi can’t and doesn’t want to be. It happened too slowly, too smoothly.

            He cannot have anything more with Erwin, so the attraction and intimacy and longing developed in a tiny back cave of his mind, feeding and growing, like a little monster, until it started to break out in bursts of feeling that take Levi completely by surprise and overwhelm him until it can be quashed back down. The little monster retreats. It continues to feed and spread. It waits for another opening, ready to strike the moment Levi becomes vulnerable.

            It is not with any profound realization that Levi recognizes that Erwin means more to him than he should. But it is a profound, and startlingly abrupt, realization as to just how far past that line he’s gone.

            To hell with it, Levi thinks.

            Levi hears Erwin call his name but he’s already going down the stairs. He doesn’t have a jacket. He’s not wearing any shoes. He’s not even wearing socks. He’s dressed in sleep clothes. And he doesn’t give one shit about any of it.

            His chest feels tight, breath coming in quick inhales. He feels numb, skin almost prickling, cold and hot at the same time. A chill up his back even as he sweats, feels a rolling fever in his stomach and chest, shoulders tight, hands clenched.

            (Idiot, Levi thinks, and doesn’t know who he’s referring to.)

            He walks down the hallway of the inn to the stairs, because it’s the only place to go, as he hears Erwin’s footsteps behind him.

            “Levi –”

            Levi ignores him as the burning anger ignites all over again. He’d needed out of that room, cannot stand to be near Erwin right now. Fuck you, he thinks. It feels both acidic and utterly hollow.

            Levi is down the stairs, to the landing, exiting to the street. It’s dark and the outside air hits him with a shock of cold, bare feet on the pavers. He turns down an alley next to the inn, feels loose gravel dig into the soles of his feet like it’s not his skin.

            A hand clamps down on his shoulder and Levi jerks away, only to be surprised when he feels fingers digging in, almost painful, a rough pull that has him just short of stumbling a step. Erwin jerks him back by his shoulder and steps in front of him.

            His eyes are blazing – an intensity which Levi recognizes only from their trips beyond the walls. Levi’s face twists.

            “Fuck o-”

            “Like this,” Erwin says, interrupting him, speaking over him, and his hand stays on his shoulder. He grabs Levi’s other shoulder with his opposite hand, and Levi feels the dual pressure points, Erwin’s grip tight on both. “I told you. You don’t tell me what’s wrong, and you make me chase you.”

             (“You pick fights like this one and don’t tell me what you’re really upset about. And then I have to guess, or otherwise chase you.”)

            “Get off me,” Levi says. His voice is low, dangerous, too quiet.

             “No,” Erwin says. “You’re not doing this, Levi. We’re not doing this. I’m not going back to my room to sit up and worry and wait for you to come back and you aren’t going out to torture yourself with what you believe are my thoughts while you do something stupid or reckless which you will regret.”

            Isabel’s decapitated head, listless eyes, Furlan’s body. Rain dripping down his skin, his soggy cloak, warm, steaming titan blood on his face, burning his cheeks, his jaw, under his eye.

            “No regrets,” Levi says. He cannot say what posses him to spit the words out. “Or did you forget?”

            (Maybe it’s because that day will always be their catalyst in the worst kind of way – because that day will always be the moment Levi’s life ripped in two and darkness descended and rose in the same heartbeat – the day, the moment really, that Levi lost everything and then looked into Erwin’s eyes with his blade cutting Erwin’s hand and saw a hope and a mission – a reason – that he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch, but could see through Erwin’s eyes.)

            He expects to see hurt or shock on Erwin’s face but instead his eyes narrow. “Then don’t do something you’ll regret,” he says.

            But that’s just the thing, Levi thinks, you never know what choices you’ll regret.

            “I’m tired of this, Erwin,” Levi says. (Tired of what?)

            “Tired of what, Levi?” Erwin says.

            His fingers are still tight over Levi’s shoulders, warm through the thin material of his shirt, the chill of the air still bitingly cold, pinprick points of pain under his feet.

            Levi thinks about how he thought about killing himself that night, when they returned from beyond the walls without Furlan and Isabel, he thinks about how the desire had been suffocating and yet distant at the same time, like a mist that completely surrounded him, obscuring everything, and yet still only vapor, intangible.

            Levi looks at Erwin’s eyes and the intensity in them is the intensity that Levi sees in him beyond the walls and yet that mission, that hope and drive that caught Levi seven years ago and which Levi has spent seven years chasing is utterly absent. Not a trace.

            “I’m tired of doing this,” Levi says. “I’m tired of this shit city and I’m tired of playing your violent dog and I’m tired of living in this fucking shit excuse for a world and I’m fucking tired of whatever the fuck you’re playing at Erwin.”

            Erwin looks down at him for a long moment. “I’m not playing at anything, Levi,” Erwin says. His voice is too hard, too sincere, focused to the point of aggression. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about dinner. I didn’t think about how upset it would make you. I only found out last night that Vogel has Underground suppliers. I’d been trying to get everything together and I should have told you and I should have realized how upset you would be but I was too focused on making sure the plan would work and I didn’t think about how it would hurt you. I’m sorry, Levi.”

            Erwin stands there. Levi looks back at him. He’s still angry and yet it’s mismatched, feels all out of place, because he had been so angry at dinner and getting into the carriage but then it had gone completely sideways and now he doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t care and cares too much all at once. He’s still pissed at him for dinner, not forgiven, and yet it doesn’t even seem to matter at all.

            “You will have to help me with the rest,” Erwin says. “Because I do not understand why you are angry. I don’t understand why you see violence as an evil – all our titan killing is violence, our whole mission is violence, you –”

            “You are not a titan,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks back at him with an almost guarded expression. “I am not a titan,” he says.

            (I’m not Furlan and Isabel.)

            Levi’s scowl deepens. He turns back around, to go back the way he came, but Erwin sidesteps in front of him yet again. Levi fumes. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck all of this.

            “Explain it. I am not a mind reader, Levi,” Erwin says, strained and forceful. “Explain it to me.”

            “What do you want, Erwin?” Levi says.

            Erwin’s brow furrows in a new burst of irritation. “That is not explaining, Levi.”

            What do you want, Erwin? “You don’t trust me,” Levi says. “After all this time you don’t trust me.”

            “I trust you with my life,” Erwin says, before Levi can say anything else.

            Levi’s fists clench. “I’m the best soldier in the entire goddamned military, Erwin,” Levi says, “do you really think trusting me with your life means anything?”

            There are much harder things to trust someone with, Levi thinks.

            “Levi, I trust you more than any other person alive,” Erwin says.

            The sincerity in his voice and his eyes is haunting, and the dissonance between the alarming level of honesty Levi sees and the falsity which Levi believes to be there has his mouth dry and his chest stilling.

            “You don’t,” Levi says.

            “I do.”

            (Levi’s toes are numb, dirt and gravel still digging into his feet, the cold startling. It’s fitting, Levi thinks, a background part of him thinks, that there’s pain in this moment too.)

            Erwin looks back at him with too much understanding. I’m not a mind reader, Levi. It’s astounding though, that he can go from total misunderstanding in one thing to eerie accuracy in the next, Levi thinks.

            “You trust me more than anyone else alive too,” Erwin says, with complete surety.

            Levi stands not a foot from Erwin, Erwin’s hands no longer on his shoulders, as Levi looks up at him, at his clear eyes.

            “I don’t know what you want, Erwin,” Levi says.

            He has said the same line so many times in the past several years. It’s the first time that Levi’s truly meant it.

            (It’s a statement. He doesn’t ask what Erwin wants.)

            (Coward.)       

            “I want you to come back inside,” Erwin says, and the hard, steadfast look on his face finally cracks just slightly, but the look underneath is no less focused, only gentler.

            That is not what I meant, Levi thinks. Back to misunderstanding – it’s a slingshot, a second of uncanny clarity, a second of hopeless obscurity. It’s always been like that, Levi thinks. Erwin is the one who’s good with words and yet Levi’s learned the steps to this dance too, of half-thoughts, of walk around phrases, deflection and ambiguity, hiding in vagueness and false fronts.  I’m tired of this, he thinks. (This. This is what I’m tired of.)

            (Coward, liar, fuckedu–)

            “What do you want, Erwin?” Levi says.

            A note of confusion crosses Erwin’s eyes. “I want you to come inside. I want to sit and –”

            “No,” Levi says, “what do you want. What do you want?”

            Levi’s skin prickles like a head rush. Erwin’s eyes glance with more confusion, moving back and forth over Levi’s face like he can read something there, imprinted on his skin, his eyes. It feels like shooting a wire, the moment before he lifts into the air.

            “Levi,” Erwin says.

            “What do you want with me, Erwin?” Levi says.

            It’s dark, late, though the sky is clear and the moon half full. It reflects off the blue of Erwin’s eyes, makes them look darker than they are, casts his face in angles and shadows, worse where they stand in the alleyway. Makes his expression sharper, features more angular. (Sharp – their trust has always been sharp.)

            “What I have always wanted, Levi,” Erwin says. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be healthy, to be safe, to feel alright.”

            Why do you let me stay here? Levi had asked him, sitting in his room three days ago. Because it makes you feel better, Levi, Erwin had said, and I want you to feel better.

            “No,” Levi says this time. “No, that’s what you want for me.”

            Erwin looks back at him. Levi holds his gaze. Neither of them have ever been any good at bending. (Steadfast, adapt.) They have been sidestepping too long. Erwin keeps looking at him, and Levi watches confusion drain out of his expression like slow dripping water.

            “I don’t know what you mean, Levi,” Erwin says.

            “You do,” Levi says.

            Erwin watches him. It’s not looking, it’s watching, the way his eyes focus. Erwin watches him as Levi holds his gaze, and Erwin says nothing. Levi recalls thinking, years ago now, that Erwin could figure out every corner of his mind if Levi let him.  

            Levi feels the air rushing in through his nose, down his throat, and filling his chest, feels it like water – too solid, too heavy, painful, cold, alive – like water, but it doesn’t feel at all like he’s drowning (he wonders if he is and just can’t feel it yet).

            Levi stares at Erwin’s eyes, dark, shadowed, and Levi watches him right back, watches the stillness of Erwin’s eyes, the mask that isn’t dropping. He watches, and he sees nothing. Levi turns.

            There are no hands stopping him this time, no sidesteps. He expects to feel fingers against his arm, his shoulder, but there is nothing, as he takes step after step down the alley. He doesn’t turn around. He feels pebbles scrape at his feet and the wind bite his skin and he does not turn around. He goes back in the door, wood under his palms, fingertips. Climbs the stairs. Levi hears nothing. When he opens the door to his room and closes it behind him, he sets about cleaning off his feet. He stands there for only a moment, and then starts gathering clothing for another bath in the basement washroom.

            He is numb. He doesn’t care. He feels nothing, and that’s fine. He’s not angry or sad or happy. He’s tired, he’s cold, and he wants another bath.

            He lifts clean sleep clothing from his suitcase. The bottom edges of his pants are dirty from brushing the ground. There are cuts on his feet that he doesn’t feel. He reaches for the doorknob, only to have the door swing open and nearly hit him in the face.

            Erwin stands there. Levi stares back at him, hand still raised from where he was reaching, clothes bundled in his other arm. Erwin’s eyes are clear and hard, the image much different than it was outside, now shown in soft candlelight, more visible. They glint with light, sharp, flashing.

            Levi stares up at him. Erwin swallows, says nothing, keeps looking at him with a strange mix of resolve, hesitancy, and surety. Keeps looking at him with that sharp candlelight reflecting off the blue of his eyes.

            (Levi’s heart beats against his ribs and throat, in his fingers and his stomach.)

            Levi waits. And then he starts to frown, eyebrows creasing inwards. He waits and he watches Erwin swallow, the line of his neck. He waits and then he shift his stance, frown deepening.

            “Well?” Levi says.

            He is expecting an answer. He’s expecting Erwin to tell him, to answer the question he had asked outside, what do you want with me? to say something. He’s expecting a rejection, he realizes. He’s expecting a rejection or another walk around answer, sidestep answer, a bullshit line or a regretful non-admission. You are either the most repressed bastard that I have ever met, or you are a fucking idiot, Erwin Smith, he had said.

            Erwin is not an idiot though, Levi thinks. He is not an idiot, of course, and Levi doesn’t think Erwin will say anything outright – no, Levi doesn’t think Erwin will really reject him, because Erwin won’t acknowledge Levi’s admission for what it is. He won’t reject him and he won’t answer Levi’s question, not really.

            Erwin has always been good with words – Levi stands there and he looks up at Erwin with his stomach heavy and his skin numb, and he thinks about the look on Erwin’s face when Levi had explained the word “bisexual” to him, and about Erwin’s polished response “I have no desire to take a wife,” and Levi thinks about how Erwin has used words to wrap this part of himself in protective ambiguity as well. He thinks about how Erwin is not, after all, an idiot.

            Levi is thinking this when Erwin, in one motion, steps forward, presses his palms to the sides of Levi’s face, leans down, and Levi feels Erwin’s lips on his.

            Levi had forgotten – Erwin loved a gamble.

 

 

 

            When Erwin was ten years old, another boy in his class kissed him outside after school. That night, over dinner, Erwin told his parents. It was only a couple months before his father was killed. His mother and his father had both paused while eating, and Erwin blushed but looked up at them. He said he’d never seen men kissing, and did men do that with each other too?

            “Yes, some men do kiss each other,” his mother said, “did you want that boy to kiss you, Erwin?”

            Erwin blushed some more. “I don’t know,” he said. He paused. “It was nice.”

            “Erwin,” his father said, “it’s alright if you thought it was nice, and it’s alright if you did want the boy to kiss you, but you are not to kiss him again. It’s okay to feel that way, but it’s wrong to act on it.”

            “Why?” Erwin said, frowning.

            “Because only men and women should kiss,” his mother said, “not men with men or women with women.”

            “It’s like if you get angry and you want to hit someone,” his father said, “it’s okay to be angry, but it’s not okay to actually hit someone.”

            “Besides,” his mother said, “you’re too young to be kissing anyone.”

            For several years afterwards, this was the mindset that Erwin had. That homosexual relationships were wrong, and it was okay to have those desires, it wasn’t his fault if he had those desires, but it would be wrong to actually act on them, and furthermore, it was only a passing infatuation, and he would still find a woman to love and marry eventually. It took him much longer than he’d care to admit to lose that mindset, to realize that not only was this “wrongness” about same sex relationships arbitrary and baseless, but the sharp separation between homosexual urges and actual, genuine feelings, was also false. Erwin liked men. He only liked men. And he did not only have sexual desire for men, but could develop deep feelings for them as well.

            Erwin isn’t really quite sure when he began to feel attraction towards Levi. Actually, he thinks he did from the very start – the problem, is that he has always found Levi fascinating, remarkable, and he’s not sure when that fascination turned to attraction. And when it did, he crushed that down (unconsciously at first, very consciously later) just as he crushed down every feeling of attraction that he’d had since he was still that ten year old boy. And he doesn’t know when that repressed attraction turned to deep, unwavering concern and closeness. He’s not sure when that closeness really tipped into what he feels now. He hadn’t really realized that it had – he hadn’t allowed himself to realize that he had.

            He’s assumed that Levi is gay for years, ever since their conversation about marriage. Levi hadn’t exactly done a lot to hide it. But there is a vast difference between finding a man who is gay and that man actually being interested, and Erwin had not thought Levi interested. There is just as big a difference between recognizing a desire and allowing himself to feel it.

            It didn’t matter anyway, or he had thought it didn’t matter anyway. He’d assumed Levi knew he was gay as well, considering his very abrupt and brash “so you like dick then” and Levi had never said anything, had never implied anything, and so Erwin did not think that he was interested.

            And there was also the simple, and yet overwhelming, fact that Erwin worried about Levi. Erwin worried, and it never seemed a good time, and even if it was, he was afraid of pushing too much, of breaking the careful trust that Levi had in him. Levi has always seemed so reluctant to accept his help, to accept his care, and Erwin had thought that if he showed more than trust and friendship, that Levi would only pull away. Erwin had not thought Levi wanted anything more from him.

            It seems that he was wrong.

            For one moment, Levi kisses him back with a bolt of fervor and a forceful intensity, overwhelming. Erwin feels Levi’s skin under his palms – I’ve never touched his face, he thinks – he wants to feel everything, all at once – it hits him how incredibly limited their touches have been, how Erwin cannot even hold his hand to comfort him unless he’s in pain, how he has hugged him only twice, and Erwin wants, suddenly and viscerally, painfully, to trace over Levi’s skin, feel it under his palms and fingertips, to touch Levi’s lips and his eyelids and the divots of his hipbones and the spaces between his fingers. He wants to trace the lines of his palms, wants to feel the knobs of his spine. The desire is overwhelming in both the abruptness of its onset and the force of its intensity.

            For one moment, Levi kisses him back and for one moment Erwin is lost and gone in a rush of sensation and for one moment the panging, aching longing that has sat dormant under his skin, crushed down and cold, for years now, bursts to life in a wash of fervor Erwin hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

            And then Levi abruptly pulls back, skin slipping from under Erwin’s palms, two feet away.

            Erwin opens his eyes and Levi’s pupils are so wide, his face almost flushed, and the emotions on his face pass so quickly that Erwin can’t catch them. His eyes dart back and forth, searching Erwin’s face. He opens his mouth but says nothing, a stillness taking over his features, frozen, lips parted (wet, red, the sliver of white of his teeth visible).

            “I want everything with you,” Erwin says. It comes out before he thinks the words, just sees flashes of Levi’s face in the alley outside, hears his voice. What do you want with me? “That’s what I want with you,” Erwin says. “I want everything with you, I want to be with you, Levi.” To be, to exist with you, I want to be in this world with you.

            “Tell me you won’t regret this,” Levi says.

            Erwin is not expecting the words, is surprised by them, and yet that surprise fades quickly. “No regrets,” Erwin says. He remembers, and he has never told Levi about it and he will never tell Levi about it, but he remembers that day with startling clarity, remembers Isabel’s decapitated head and the sliced up, hell, diced and cubed, titan flesh disintegrating, and he remembers the look on Levi’s face, how pale he was, the unmasked shock and anguish – it was the first time he had seen Levi make any expression besides apathy or bitter anger and it will always be seared into his memory. “I told you that,” Erwin says. And he’s not sure what possesses him to allude to that day, to bring up Isabel and Furlan, to make Levi think of that day of all things, the day Erwin destroyed his world, but he says it anyway and knows that there is no way that he cannot say this. “I’m the one who told you that, Levi.”

            (No, Erwin will never regret this.)

            Levi grabs the front of Erwin’s shirt, fists the material there, and pulls him down.

            Kissing Levi is like trying to grab hold of a storm. Their teeth clack against each other, tongues sliding, movements quick and so unpredictable. Levi bites his lip just a little too hard, sharp enough to hurt, gentle enough for it to be only pinpricks. He’s unpredictable and changes faster than Erwin can keep up. It feels like moving with a tide – attacking, and then yielding again. When Levi presses into Erwin’s mouth with what is close to aggression, Erwin lets him. But when Levi bites at his lip Erwin closes his teeth on Levi’s tongue. He feels the hiss of breath against him when Levi pulls back.

            Erwin lets Levi pull him down onto the bed, but once there, Erwin presses Levi onto his back only for Levi to turn on his side and grabs at Erwin’s neck, pulling him close again.

            It’s too much – it’s too desperate, too overwhelming, too abrupt. Erwin can’t keep up with this reality. He pulls back, leans away, tries to breathe. He feels dizzy, surreal.

            Levi’s face is flushed in a way that Erwin has never seen it before. The sudden image has an uncomfortable and abrupt wave of heat rolling through him. Levi looks back at him with confusion and impatience, something close to exhaustion, recklessness. There’s shock on his face as well, the same shock Erwin feels.

            “I’ve decided you’re both,” Levi says.

            “Both?” Erwin’s mind is blank, his head feels light, empty, blank – too many sensations, all of it too fast.

            “A repressed bastard and a fucking idiot,” Levi says. “I’ve decided you’re both.”

            And Erwin laughs. And it’s a shocked sound, borders on hysterical. It is all surreal, dreamlike and he can’t get over how good it feels – yet it’s raw, unhinged, precarious. It feels like Levi could slip away in a moment, any moment, and Erwin wants too much.

            “You’re still angry with me,” Erwin says.

            “How long?” Levi says at the same time.

            “How long?” Erwin says.

            “How long have you… with me, how long?”

            “I don’t know,” Erwin says. (A very long time, a voice in his head says.)

            “I’m still pissed,” Levi says. “I’m still so fucking mad about that fucking dinner, Erwin.”

            But his voice isn’t nearly as angry as it could be, should be. It sounds hollow and it’s not that he’s lying, not that he’s pretending to be more angry than he is – it’s distracted, too shocked, too ragged.

            “I’m so sorry,” Erwin says, voice low, a breath.

            Levi looks at him, his face so close to Erwin’s, his eyes so big, up that close.

            “I want to hold you,” Erwin says.

            It sounds almost ridiculous, when he hears it outside himself, but he’s not embarrassed. He means it. He means it so strongly. (He’s wanted this too for a very long time.)

            Levi tenses almost imperceptibly, tenses bit by bit – his arms, shoulder, neck, jaw. Erwin watches and catalogs and says nothing, waits. And then Levi takes in a too-hard breath, the rushing of air audible, and slowly, he leans his head down on Erwin’s shoulder. His body sags. He lets his elbow fall, no longer propping himself up, and Erwin tightens his arms around Levi, presses Levi to his body, and Erwin holds him.

 

 

Notes:

Did you guys really think Erwin was just going to let him walk away last chapter?

OK, wow, so you'll really have to tell me what you guys think of this, and I really hope it's been worth the wait - I know it's been a long time since my last update and while I don't think this chapter is perfect I didn't want to wait any longer fiddling with it - the reason it took so long in the first place is that I wrote a very, very different chapter before deciding it was unrealistic and anticlimactic, so I scrapped that whole thing and wrote this instead.

A couple notes: one, I made a point that Levi needs people to brush their teeth before kissing - we don't get his thoughts in here because I wrote that part from Erwin's perspective, but I have not forgotten about this and don't want people to think I'm ignoring it - the end scene happens late at night, Levi's in sleep clothes already, Erwin has brushed his teeth within the hour. Levi can presumably tell.

Two, wow I have a lot of thoughts about all of your comments on the last chapter. First, thank you all for the comments! Second, I was really surprised by how angry people were at Erwin! This is definitely partly my fault - I tried to fix it a little in this chapter, but basically, to be clear, Erwin is under an immense amount of stress in these past few chapters. They need this funding, the prior meeting Erwin had without Levi did not go well. He's trying pretty desperately at this point to get the support he needs, and the entire plan for the night with Vogel was very rushed. Levi is not his focus right now (nor do I think he necessarily should be), and Erwin's not thinking about his reactions - he should have realized and he's definitely still at fault, but he wasn't just ignoring Levi's feelings or being grossly unthoughtful - Erwin has a lot on his plate. Also, Levi's being unreasonable with the whole punching thing. Levi is also having an absolute shit time of it though, and if he wasn't in the middle of a fairly severe bout of depression, he would have reacted differently.

Three, I'm really excited to write how Levi and Erwin try to figure this out. There's still a lot they need to unpack, and while this is a tipping point in the story, it's not downhill from here, and is not meant to be the climax of the story.

Anyway, thank you all for reading, and I would really, really love to hear what you thought of this chapter. It's been a long time coming.

Chapter 19: Hope

Summary:

Levi and Erwin have sex, basically.

Notes:

WE'RE BACK!

(I checked and wow fuck I did really take like six months on this one didn't I? Anyway here's a chapter.)

 

 

The last person to hold him like this was Isabel. Levi remembers vividly because it was not usual for Isabel. In fact, he’d been shocked when she sat down next to him and wrapped her arms around him and didn’t let go. Levi had been having a bad day, had scraped his hands raw washing and cut himself up as well, had been hiding in his room when Isabel came in to check on him.

            It was one of the only times that Isabel hugged him for more than a couple seconds. Even that, she did not do often, and had only started to do in around the last six months before she died. Neither Levi or Furlan knew what happened, and Levi had never asked her, but they did not hug Isabel. They did not hug her, did not touch her at all when she first started living with them, never grabbed her or leaned on her for more than a few seconds. She never told them why she couldn’t stand it, why it scared her, and they had never asked.

            So Levi remembers when she’d come into his room, sat on his bed, hugged him, and not let go. He remembers being surprised, remembers turning to her, questioning, but she’d only hugged him tighter, and he had slowly relaxed.

            This feels like that and not like that. He relaxes slowly the same as then, breathes in Erwin’s smell, feels his breaths against his back. It feels too close, too intimate, but Levi doesn’t try to move. It feels good. It feels so good that Levi locks up against it, can’t process it, but he’s just exhausted enough, just worn out enough that he stays anyway, let’s his mind buzz to static, let’s his body continue to relax, breathing going deeper, slower.

            They don’t talk more that night. Erwin falls asleep like that. Levi feels his arms loosen, feels Erwin’s breaths go slow. It’s only then, once Erwin is asleep, that Levi really relaxes completely.

            (He thinks of all the times he’s slept in Erwin’s bed. He thinks about how much he’s wanted this – a dual longing and fear, too vulnerable, too intimate, but he’d wanted it anyway.)

            He thinks about moving, about crawling out from Erwin’s arms, sleeping on the other side of the bed. He falls asleep thinking about it.

 

 

            When Erwin wakes up, Levi is gone. This is not altogether surprising – Levi is almost always gone when Erwin wakes up and Levi had stayed in his bed that night. He only ever sleeps for a few hours at a time, so he’s often gone early. And yet, when Erwin wakes up and Levi isn’t there, his chest tightens painfully and suddenly his heart is beating too fast, a spike of worry, or dread – he’s not sure which.

            Erwin is just getting up when Levi comes back into the room, dressed already, hair damp from the baths in the basement of the inn. His face is blank.

            “We’re going to be late,” he says.

            Erwin looks at the clock hanging on the wall. His eyes widen. “Shit,” he says.

 

 

            Erwin gets ready as quickly as possible, rushing, as Levi leans in the entryway of Erwin’s room, watching. It’s not until they are in the carriage on their way to the main legislative building that Erwin tries to find something to say.

            “Stop,” Levi says.

            Erwin glances up. Levi looks at him with a calm, cool expression. “What?” Erwin says.

            “Stop,” Levi says. He raises his hand towards Erwin in a vague gesture. “Whatever that is.”

            Erwin blinks at him. “I don’t know what to say,” Erwin says.

            And Levi looks over out the window of the carriage and one corner of his mouth flips up. It’s an odd, uncharacteristically gentle, albeit amused expression on him. “Erwin, you don’t have to say anything.”

            Erwin is silent for a few moments. “This is okay?” he says.

            Levi turns, looks at him again. His eyes look clear – it reminds Erwin of how his eyes had looked right before Levi walked out of his room to the street beside the inn, the apathy suddenly gone, and yet it is a wholly different expression on his face.

            “No regrets,” Levi says.

            Erwin wants to tell Levi about the novels he read as a child. He wants to tell Levi about the grey-eyed women in them. He thinks Levi would roll his eyes at him.

 

 

            As promised, Vogel backs them, and they get their funding by one vote. They’ll stay one more night in the inn to leave first thing in the morning – the journey from Mitras to Survey Corps headquarters takes about a day (though it would be faster on just horses and not a carriage, Levi thinks).

            As soon as they are in the carriage on their way back to the inn from the senate building, Erwin slumps and lets out a long breath.

            “Thank you,” Erwin says. “Thank you for last night.”

            For one moment, Levi thinks Erwin is thanking him for the kiss and for sleeping in a bed together, which strikes Levi as a very bizarre thing to thank him for, until he realizes that Erwin is talking about the dinner.

            Levi’s stomach clenches a little. He says nothing.

            “I know it was – I’m sorry,” Erwin says. “I know I should have told you beforehand, but thank you for doing it. We wouldn’t have gotten the funding without you.”

            Levi frowns. “Tch,” he says, “you would have figured it out.”

            “Maybe,” Erwin says. “Maybe not. I wouldn’t have brought your past up at all if I had been able to figure out a different way to get Vogel’s support.”

            Levi says nothing to that. He doesn’t want to talk about it any longer. He’s not sure he quite forgives Erwin for it yet, but he also doesn’t think there’s anything that Erwin can say right now that will soften that particular type of hurt. He’s less angry and more bitter, more just upset. He’ll get over it, but right now he doesn’t want to rehash it any longer.

            It was clever, Levi thinks though. To use him like that, to take a rumor and twist it just right – frame it just right, deliver it just right. Enough of a paper trail for Vogel to believe it, if he had gone and looked at the Military Police records.

            Levi had not guarded a lot of illegal goods though – that part was a lie. He had stolen and moved a lot of illegal goods, but him and his crew weren’t bodyguards or cheap muscle. Levi got twitchy with anything prolonged like that, anything that got them in deep, put them at risk for an extended period of time. It wasn’t their skillset anyway – higher risk, bigger payouts, in and out fast. That’s what they were good at. Furlan planned, Levi executed. Strike hard, strike fast, strike smart.

            Furlan was controlled and strategic when he fought, while Isabel was chaotic and agile. Furlan’s moves were smarter, but Isabel adapted better, had better reflexes. Levi’s style was somewhere in between – he relied on speed and power. He’d never been as smart as Furlan, was only strategic as it applied to the current moment. But he was a hell of a lot more intentional than Isabel. Furlan was calculated, Isabel chaotic, Levi precise.

            Levi thinks now that Erwin and Furlan would have gotten along well. He thinks now that it wouldn’t have taken long for Erwin to win over Isabel too.

            (Levi wonders what they would think, sees Furlan’s sly grin and Isabel’s outraged expression.

            “I’m gonna kill that blonde bastard.”

            “Yeah, right after you fuck him.”

            Furlan had been joking at the time, teasing, and Levi had been completely serious.)

            (Levi remembers Erwin’s eyes, cold, hard, expression stone even in the middle of a fight. Levi remembers Erwin’s hand wrapped around his wrist, Levi’s hand on Erwin’s forearm, both of them holding back each other’s blades, locked together, falling through the air, faces a foot apart – when they first met, when Erwin and his group caught them in the Underground.)

 

 

            “You’re so tense,” Erwin says.

            Levi only tenses more at the statement, something close to a growl coming up his throat. In their current position, it just makes Erwin smile. He runs his hand up and down Levi’s arm again, elbow to shoulder, willing him to relax. They’re lying on Erwin’s bed, Levi’s back to Erwin’s chest as Erwin props himself up. It’s late – they’d been traveling via carriage for most of the day. By the time they arrived back it was already past dinner, and then there were immediate meetings to be had and letters to be written, quickly, since their promised funding is a month late, two weeks after they were officially denied. Erwin wouldn’t put it past the council to retroactively deny it again. He wants to make sure they get that money as quickly as possible.

            So it’s late, and Levi is in his bed, and Erwin is still in some kind of marvel – how is it that he went from having hugged Levi all of twice, unable and afraid to even hold his hand unless he was in horrible pain, to having him here, curled in his bed with their legs touching, Erwin tracing patterns on his arms, his shoulder, neck, back?

            It has something incredibly light rising up in his chest, something that had been stomped down under weights for a very long time. Erwin runs his fingers over the back of Levi’s neck and Levi shivers, tucking his head down.

            “Quit it,” he says. “That tickles.”

            Erwin leans forward and down and presses a kiss to the spot instead. He feels Levi inhale.

            We should talk about this, Erwin thinks. Instead he places another kiss, between his neck and shoulder.

            “Erwin,” Levi says.

            Erwin kisses under Levi’s jaw as Levi starts to turn more towards him. Levi reaches up and his fingers slide through Erwin’s hair. They sit there for a moment as Erwin keeps kissing Levi’s jaw, before Levi’s fingers curl and then tug. Erwin raises his head and Levi presses their lips together.

            Erwin is of two minds. There is a very large part of him which is utterly overwhelmed with the previous day’s proceedings, with this sudden materialization of a relationship which is already deep and meaningful, a relationship which he had not thought possible, the idea of which he had crushed down, buried, and ignored. This is all, in the truest sense of the word, new. So incredibly, shockingly new. Erwin has not had a romantic relationship in nearly seventeen years, and that was with a woman whom he had never loved the way he thought he did. He has never had anything substantial with a man. Everything feels surreal, overwhelming, and impossibly new, to the point of shock.

            So there is a large part of Erwin that is just trying to process everything, trying to adjust, that would like nothing more than to slow everything down, take things step by step, adjust and reorient, take everything in.

            And then there is the part that has known Levi for eight years, has longed for this for much too long, and is unafraid, unflinching, and greedy – he wants all of this, wants everything, all at once. Erwin wants to dive in without even the attempt to swim. He wants to drown himself in it.

            He has yet to figure out what Levi wants.

            Though, as he bites Erwin’s lip and moves suddenly, jarring and rapid, on top of Erwin, Levi is making it startlingly clear what he wants in this moment.

            “You bite a lot,” Erwin says, when he pulls back for a breath, a smile twisting his lips. He opens his eyes, Levi above him now, a glare starting to appear. His eyes are dark, a dangerous edge which has electricity going up Erwin’s spine, but it’s undercut by something playful, teasing.

            “Careful, I scratch too,” Levi says.

           

 

            For the next three days, Erwin is very busy, and by extension, Levi, Hange, Mike, and Joseph (Erwin’s recently appointed secretary) are also very busy. There are letters to write, generals to brief, supplies orders to send, and financial records to pour over as Erwin tries to stretch their budget once again. At night he meets Levi back in his room. Levi looks a little less sullen, eats a bit more, seems more engaged. It’s not a glaring difference, but it’s noticeable, not insignificant. He doesn’t let Erwin hold him as they sleep, like he did that first night. Instead he lies next to Erwin, with their arms touching, turned on his side towards him, close enough that he can hear Levi’s breaths. They still eat breakfast together, still correspond closely during the day as Erwin tries to delegate all of the work that has to be done. They kiss more. Levi jerks Erwin off. Erwin teases Levi until he growls and starts making threats.

           There is something that has been bothering Erwin. It has bothered Erwin for a very long time, but it has only recently taken on a new shape, a new, more well-defined shape, sharp and large, words pressing into the surface to give this vague and fluid feeling of remiss a tangible, and suddenly precise, existence.

            “Hange,” Erwin says, standing in her office as she scribbles something down at her desk, leaning over it, also standing. “How exactly do you know that doctor friend of yours, the one who works with patients with mental difficulties, who saw Levi in Mitras?”

            “He was my professor,” Hange says, “when I was in medical school.”

            “Did he teach classes on abnormal psychology there?” Erwin says.

            “He taught many classes,” Hange says. “I mean, he works with people like Levi now, with mood disorders, but he’s worked with psychosis patients and brain injuries – you know, concussions are so much more detrimental than we treat them, we really should have a longer recovery period, soldiers should not be –”

            “And how many classes did you take with him?” Erwin says.

            Hange pauses, and then looks up at him, eyes squinted. “Erwin, are you asking how much I know about medical psychology?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            Hange stands up straight and sighs. “Not an excessive amount – it was never what I was really interested in. Anyway, you know I only did two years of med school.” Hange had originally gone to school for engineering, to switch to med school halfway through her degree, and then done that for two years before quitting to join the survey corps. “Is this something to do with Levi?” Hange says.

            Erwin takes a long breath. “I’d like your opinion,” he says.

            “Alright,” Hange says. She leans back against her desk.

            “You know Levi lost his two friends a few months after joining the Survey Corps,” Erwin says. “You know I essentially forced him to join, that I tricked him also, and that I was there when they died, that he almost tried to kill me when they died.”

            “I heard he did try to kill you,” Hange says. She points at his hand, where he still has a deep scar from where Levi’s blade had cut him.

            Erwin smiles though. “Do you really think if Levi actually tried to kill me that I would be alive?”

            “Good point,” Hange says.

            “I want to know,” Erwin says. He struggles now though, to find the right way of explaining. “If… if this type of trauma could force him to… latch onto someone, in an unhealthy manner. If…”

            Erwin doesn’t know how to put it all into words, the nagging fear that Levi does not really like him the way he claims to, that Levi’s friendship, his relationship, is something born of trauma and pain rather than trust and desire.

            “I want to know,” Erwin says, “if you think Levi could have latched onto me because I brought him above ground, because I had a hand in his friends’ death. I want to know if you think our relationship may be unhealthy, if I am… if I am just another one of his compulsions, his obsessions.”

            Erwin meets Hange’s eyes again, and whatever he was expecting, it was not the almost amused, thoughtful expression on Hange’s face.

            “You two are a puzzle,” Hange says. “Could his attachment to you be born of trauma and pain? Nearly positively so.” She stops to look back at him, eyes sharp behind her glasses, glinting. “You’re forgetting the whole saving humanity bit though. You’ve broken that day down to two factors, Levi’s friends’ deaths and you, but that’s not at all the components at play. Levi blamed himself for their deaths, he’d seen titans for the first time that day, he’d already had enough trauma and pain to fuel him, and he made his own decisions. His attachment to you rose out of trauma and pain and then cemented because you presented him a path to hope, the promise to make his friends deaths mean something.” Hange raises an eyebrow. “You’ve done it with dozens of others too, Erwin. You do it with every speech you give.”

            Erwin’s not sure how this makes him feel. He can’t tell if it’s better or worse.

            “I don’t know if his drive to follow you is a compulsion or an obsession,” Hange says. She laughs. “Probably. I think it is for all of us, in a way. It has to be, for us to do the things we do. To keep facing titans, keep watching our friends eaten. He doesn’t like you because of any compulsion though, Erwin.”

            Erwin goes still, just looks at her, keeps his face blank.

            “If that were true, you two would have been sleeping together from the get go,” Hange says. “So don’t trick yourself into thinking all of his emotions are just a result of trauma. It’s not fair to him.”

            Erwin just stares at her for a moment. “I – that is not what I meant when –”

            She waves a hand, but there’s a sly grin on her face. “Oh no, of course not,” she says.

            Erwin straightens a bit. “Hange –”

            “Because Levi definitely didn’t ask me about your dating history, and you definitely don’t constantly watch him when he’s training –”

            “I take time to observe –”

            “And oh, it’s not like Levi sleeps in your bed half the time.”

            “He has stayed in my room when he’s not felt well,” Erwin starts. “We –”

            “And you don’t eat breakfast together every day, or make him tea when he’s upset, or half heartfelt conversations on rooftops while –”

            “Eating together is perfectly normal, we are friends,” Erwin says, “and of course I make him tea when he’s upset, so do you, and we had one conversation on a rooftop where, mind you, he nearly bit my head off, and how do you know about that anyway?”

            “You two were practically screaming, everyone heard you,” Hange says. “We were not that far away.”

            “Ah, well,” Erwin says, wincing, “those are all perfectly normal things for friends to do, Hange, so I don’t know why you seem to think otherwise. Let me make it perfectly clear that –”

            “Levi may also have told me yesterday that you two are fucking now,” Hange says.

            Erwin closes his eyes and slaps a hand over his face.

 

 

            The first time that Levi had sex, he’d let Furlan take the lead. He’d wrinkled his nose at the oil and had a very hard time relaxing enough to let Furlan open him up. He’d spent a great deal of effort trying to keep thoughts of exactly where Furlan was touching, what he might be touching, out of his head. It had been uncomfortable and more than a bit painful. But Levi was equal parts stubborn, curious, and horny, and so he’d kept telling Furlan to keep going anyway, even as Furlan picked up on his pain and anxiety. He’d liked the feeling inside him, but the entire thing together was more unpleasant than anything.

            Nevertheless, it was good enough for him to try again, good enough that Levi had gone out to a bar to find a hookup when he was seventeen, good enough that he’d had sex with Peter when he was twenty. There is a lot about his cleaning compulsions which bother Levi, but this is maybe the only part which he also finds simply irritating. Young teenage Levi had found the entire thing undeniably cruel, that his body had to crave something that made such a mess. In the Underground he’d jerked off almost solely at the end of his baths, because it was the only way he really felt clean afterwards. Once they got to the surface, Levi had quickly found himself in the unfortunate predicament of communal showers. On one memorable occasion Furlan had snapped at him to just go fucking jerk off already, damn, Levi, when he’d taken his frustration out in one too many snippy, snide remarks.

            Levi wants to have sex. But the whole thing makes him so fucking stressed out. He refuses to think of it as being anxious – Levi is not nervous about having sex, is not a blushing virgin, is not of the mind that he needs to wait, to take it slow – he has the entirely reasonable worry that it will be uncomfortable and unpleasant and he will wind up rubbing his skin raw. Every time he kisses Erwin there is a voice in the back of his head warning him that taking it farther will only bring up all those squeamish, unsettling, disgusting parts, will only send him into a panic. He holds back more than he wants to, and starts growing both frustrated and irritated with himself for it. He wants to have sex, he’s pretty damn sure Erwin wants it too. He’s not nervous, so he needs to just fucking do it already.

            Despite the newly reinvigorated sexual frustration, Levi is feeling… better. He’s feeling better. It’s not a flipped switch, everything isn’t magically okay now, but he feels like he’s getting there, like he’s started digging himself out of the hole that he’d fallen into.

            Levi goes back to Erwin’s bedroom that night, a now constant habit which Erwin seems in no way against.

 

 

            Erwin comes back to find Levi changing the sheets on his bed. He closes the door behind him and then immediately turns to Levi. “Levi, why did you tell Hange that we were fucking?” Erwin says.

            Erwin cannot figure out what could have possessed Levi to tell her, not in the least because they are not actually fucking. They haven’t had sex yet. At least, not properly, Erwin thinks. Levi turns around, a blank expression on his face. He’s out of his gear straps but not changed yet. “Did she say that to you?” Levi says.

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            The side of Levi’s mouth turns up even as his eyes widen a bit. “I didn’t think she’d believe me,” Levi says. “She kept pestering me about the trip to Mitras. I just said it to shut her up.”

            Erwin sighs. “In the future –”

            “Yeah, I wouldn’t have said it to anyone but Shitty Glasses anyway. You don’t need to explain to me why this needs to be quiet, Erwin.”

            Erwin sighs again and comes to sit down on the edge of the bed as Levi folds the blanket over it. “Apparently I am ‘not subtle in the least’ and you ‘don’t even pretend to try,’” Erwin says.

            Levi snorts. “I take it Four-Eyes isn’t much of a bigot then?”

            “The squealing for joy would indicate not.”

            Levi pauses as he straightens a last pillow. “You gonna tell Mike?” he says, looking over. There’s something almost suspicious in his eyes, a blankness that wasn’t there a second earlier.

            “No, I wasn’t planning on it,” Erwin says. He pauses again, frowns. He hadn’t considered. “I’m not sure how well we’ll be able to hide it from him though.” He cringes as he says it.

            “He know you like men?” Levi says, crossing his arms.

            “No one knows I like men,” Erwin says. This is literally the first time that he has ever said the words out loud, Erwin realizes.

            “Well, is he a bigot?” Levi says.

            “I don’t know,” Erwin says. He would like to think not, and he knows Mike is loyal to a fault – Erwin is sure that even if Mike finds same-sex relationships abhorrent he will not do anything to jeopardize Erwin or the Survey Corps. Though Erwin feels his stomach sink and turn at the thought of suddenly losing his closest friend over nothing more than his sexuality. Erwin doesn’t really know Mike’s views at all on homosexuality.

            “Hm,” Levi says. He tilts his head. “I don’t think he is,” Levi says.

            Erwin looks up. “Why not?”

            Levi shrugs. “He’s too fucking weird. You can’t be that weird and still be that intolerant of other people who are different too.”

            Erwin huffs a laugh. “I’m not sure how sound that logic is, Levi, but I’ve never heard him say anything that would indicate he’d be appalled by us.”

            No, the more Erwin thinks about it, the more he does not think Mike would think much of Erwin liking men. Mike is not religious, does not in general care much how other people live their lives, and has never before made any comment disparaging same-sex relations which Erwin can remember. The fact that it is Levi he is together with, however – that, he can hear Mike having something to say about.

            “You should tell him,” Levi says, and Erwin glances over to see Levi watching him, another calculated, blank mask on his face.

            Erwin raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

            Levi shrugs. “You’ve spent your entire damn life hiding it, right?” Levi says. He pauses, and his expression softens a bit – it’s an odd look on him – or maybe not odd, but just unusual. “It can be nice, not having to lie.”

            Erwin looks back at him, trying to place that look on his face. Soft, almost tender, but that’s not quite right. Empathy, Erwin thinks, and feels a warmth light in his chest at the realization.

            “I suppose you’re right,” Erwin says. “I’ll think about it.”

 

 

            Erwin does not wind up thinking about it for very long.

            “Levi having a bad time again?” Mike says, while Erwin and he walk across the fields between the barracks and their main building, to a meeting, the next day.

            “Hm? No, I think he’s actually starting to do a bit better,” Erwin says. He’s talked with Mike only in vague and fleeting terms about Levi’s problems before. Mike is not an idiot, and while he’s not a strategist, he is still quite observant. He knows about the attacks of pain, and Erwin thinks he’s probably guessed that Levi hurts himself too. He certainly knows that Levi doesn’t always take care of himself. He’s been probing at it a few times though in the last month, as Levi’s quite obviously been doing worse than normal, and Erwin’s been fretting about it, even though he doesn’t speak candidly with anyone but Hange about the extent to Levi’s problems.

            There’s a beat of silence, and then Mike sighs deeply.

            “What?” Erwin says, glancing over at him.

            “Nothing,” Mike says, with an uncharacteristically mournful tone.

            Erwin glances sideways at him, raising an eyebrow. “Mike?”

            “So the little gremlin finally seduced you, huh?” Mike says.

            Erwin freezes, turns to him, and just freezes some more when Mike gives him a mock lamenting look, as if he’s just declared a tragedy. “What?” Erwin says.

            “I really thought we were in the clear,” Mike says, continuing in an almost despairing tone. “I mean, when we first picked him up, sure, you couldn’t keep your eyes off him – I actually thought I was going to have to stop you from fucking a child –”

            “Mike – I would never have pursued a relationship with any teenager when I was, I mean for God’s sake, Mike, he was sixteen,” Erwin starts. When they met, Erwin was twenty-four and Levi was sixteen. While legally that made him an adult, it was only barely, and their eight-year age gap would have been much more than Erwin was comfortable with at the time. It no longer seems that large, now that Levi is the one who is twenty-four, but there is no way that Erwin would have allowed himself any kind of relationship with someone that young. Not to mention he had certainly not been focused on attraction at the time – he’d found Levi fascinating for his skill and power, not his looks.

            “Exactly, but you got away, it really looked like you were going to make it, but, the Commander has finally succumbed.”

            “Succumbed to what exactly, Mike?” Erwin says.

            “The gremlin,” Mike says, and lets out another sigh.

            “Mike –”

            “I can smell him on you, Erwin, he’s been in your bed all week. It’s a tragedy really.” Erwin starts to stiffen, feels his stomach tighten a little, but then Mike slaps a hand over Erwin’s back. “Relax, Erwin,” Mike says, and it’s only then that Erwin sees the bit of a smile on his face.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mike,” Erwin says, but he’s started to relax already, keeping his face blank.

            “Ah, that’s alright,” Mike says. He reaches into his pocket and then takes Erwin’s wrist and presses it into his hand. “I’ve got a present for you, Nanaba told me to give it to you,” he says, and this time when Erwin turns to him, Mike is smirking.

 

 

            Levi stares at the bottle in his hands, reading the label, and then just staring, before looking back up at Erwin, who has an open, almost confused expression.

            “He gave you lube?” Levi says.

            “He said it was Nanaba’s idea,” Erwin says.

            Well so much for Mike being a bigot – clearly he is not, Levi thinks. He reads the label again. It looks like good quality – much better than the shit Furlan bought or the lotion Peter had. (Levi doesn’t remember what the guy at the bar used, just that there was a bottle of something because Levi sure as hell wouldn’t have let him use spit.)

            Levi hadn’t actually thought much about getting oil – he figured Erwin must have something around they could use as a lubricant, even if it wasn’t ideal, and Levi was still trying to get over this mental block on fucking that had somehow appeared. He doesn’t remember it being this difficult with Peter.

            “Hm,” Levi says. Fuck it. “Go brush your teeth,” Levi says, “take a shower too.”

            Something lights in Erwin’s eyes, a grin starting to break out on his face as he turns for the washroom.

 

 

            Fifteen minutes later Levi has his knees planted on either side of Erwin’s hips, on his bed, leaned down to kiss him as Erwin’s hands move over his back, his shirt gone. The bottle of oil is on the bedside table and Levi stops to lean back on Erwin’s legs and start unbuttoning his pants. Levi doesn’t know why Erwin even put them on.

            “Wait,” Erwin says, and his hand comes up to hold one of Levi’s wrists, stilling him. Levi looks up, pausing. “You said that with the cleaning, sex bothers you,” Erwin says. His breathing is heavy, too fast already, eyes bright.

            “Yes,” Levi says.

            “What did you mean?” Erwin says. “What is… what’s not okay?”

            “You’re asking this now?” Levi says. Sure, they haven’t technically fucked yet, but he’s sucked Erwin’s dick so it’s not like they haven’t done anything sexual either.

            Erwin smiles at him though. “You seem particularly impatient tonight,” he says, “but yes, I probably should have asked sooner.”

            “I already told you,” Levi says, “I need you to brush your teeth, wash before, wash again after.” Levi pauses. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

            “No,” Erwin says. Levi’s not surprised.

            “I only bottom,” Levi says, with a slight bit of reluctance and a not slight bit of impatience. He doesn’t like discussing this, and really would like to get back to what they were doing, but he wants to avoid panicking during sex more.

            And then Erwin looks back at him with just a long enough pause, just a sliver of confusion in his eyes before he erases it, and Levi freezes.

            “You know how this works, right?” Levi says.

            Erwin hesitates.

            “Oh fuck –”

            “I understand the basics, I just don’t know any more than that. What do you mean, you only bottom – what does that mean?” Erwin says.

            “I want you to stick your dick in my ass,” Levi says. “Specifically, I only like it that way, not the other way around.”

            Erwin’s eyes widen. “Oh,” he says.

            Levi has never topped, never wanted to – he can’t get over the crawling of his skin and the disgust and the reflexive panic to do so. He can stand someone else’s body parts in him, as long as they have washed, as long as they don’t touch him too much with the same fingers or dick afterwards, as long as he’s not having a bad day with the cleaning – but he can’t do it himself. He’s never fingered himself. He’s never touched someone else’s asshole. He thinks he could probably force himself to do it – he’s cleaned the latrines and the stables after all, so it’s not like shit is entirely intolerable, but he can’t imagine retaining any kind of arousal while doing so. (Another cruel irony, that sex must involve what Levi would consider the dirtiest and most disgusting body part – and that he would like it of all things.)

            “So if we could get onto that part –” Levi starts.

            Despite Levi’s impatience, Erwin takes his time – kisses his neck and then down his chest, flips them so he’s over Levi, and Levi huffs but lets him. Erwin has discovered in the past week how sensitive Levi’s nipples and the skin at the inside of his thighs are. He touches both until Levi squirms, grabs Erwin’s wrist, and shoves it at his crotch. Erwin laughs against his mouth and palms at him.

            “Come on,” Levi says, arching up into Erwin’s hand.

            Erwin’s hand slips down, and Levi takes in a breath. They’ve done hand jobs and blowjobs but nothing more. Erwin’s fingers trail past his balls, down towards his hole. Levi feels a spike of anxiety that seems to come out of nowhere. He’d mostly forgotten his discomfort during all the foreplay Erwin dragged on.

            Erwin drags a finger over his hole and Levi is actually shocked by how good it feels – it has been years since anyone touched him there and the sensation surprises him. He doesn’t remember liking just a finger rubbing over his entrance this much before, and doesn’t know if it’s the anticipation and long abstinence or if it’s just Erwin and how much he wants this.

            Levi is abruptly jarred out of this pleasure when a finger is pushed in, the sensation rough and dragging, uncomfortable. He jerks back with an affronted noise. Erwin freezes above him.

            “I did something wrong,” Erwin says, looking down at Levi with a mix of pale worry and surprise. There’s a question in there, though Erwin’s not asking if but what.

            “Yeah, you didn’t use the damn oil,” Levi says. He reaches for it from the bedside table and tosses it at Erwin, who catches it. One finger without lube hadn’t hurt, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable.

            Erwin looks down at the oil, then back at Levi. “Now?” Erwin says.

            Levi groans. He waves his hand. “You need – you can’t just jam it in there, you’d hurt me, you need oil or some other shit.”

            Erwin’s expression furrows. “I hurt you?”

            “No,” Levi says, waving his hand again. “I’m fine, it just didn’t feel good, it would have hurt if you kept going.”

            “I thought it was just for sex,” Erwin says, frowning down at it.

            Levi actually laughs at that. It strikes him as kind of hilarious, that he is the experienced one here – having had sex all of five times in his life, one of them with a woman. “If there’s something going inside me it needs oil,” Levi says. “And be generous with it.”

            “Alright,” Erwin says. He settles back between Levi’s legs again, and Levi spreads them a little more for him, watching as Erwin pours some out onto his hands. “Anything else I should know?” he says. “You’ll have to tell me what you like.”

            “Just go slow,” Levi says. “One finger first. It’s been a long time, and I don’t finger myself, so you’re going to have to really open me up if you don’t want to impale me with your giant ass cock.”

            Erwin laughs, and then he bends down to kiss Levi again, at the same time as he wraps a hand around Levi’s cock – and really, that’s just not fair, because Erwin’s hand, now slick with oil, slides horribly (wonderfully) over his cock and it startles a moan out of him. When Erwin leans back up again, he’s smirking.

            Levi scowls. “Come on,” he says. “Stop fucking teasing.”

            Erwin laughs, and then slides his fingers to Levi’s hole again.

 

 

            Despite never having had sex with a man before, Erwin is remarkably good at reading Levi’s body. The longer Erwin fingers him, the more anxious and excited he gets, in a paradoxical combination. Levi tries to focus on how good it feels, on how much he wants this, on Erwin over him, but he can’t help the creeping, mounting anxiety that seems to have settled in his gut and stretched into his chest.

            It would be fine if it weren’t taking so goddamn long, Levi thinks. Erwin has large fingers, and Levi is a small man who has not had anything in his ass in years. It’s uncomfortable and a bit painful, and Erwin is going glacially slowly because of it. A part of him wants to tell Erwin to just shove them in already, just go faster even though it will hurt, just to get it done with already – but it still feels good even though there’s a burn to it, and Levi knows that if it were to hurt much more than he wouldn’t have that distraction, and that line of pleasure is keeping his anxiety at bay, keeping it a muddled background feeling which he is able to mostly ignore.

            Erwin kisses at his neck, tweaks his nipples, and strokes his cock to try to distract him from the discomfort. He finds Levi’s prostate and through trial and error manages to fairly consistently rub over it. Despite this, Levi starts getting soft. It feels like getting stuck – suddenly all he can think of is Erwin’s fingers inside him and how dirty it is and how he’ll touch Levi’s body with the same fingers afterwards and how it’s Levi who’s dirty and just as Levi’s heart is starting to race and the spiral begins, Erwin pushes in another finger. The pleasure seems to drain all at once and it hurts. Levi tenses up, which of course makes it worse, and it is all at once too much.

            “Stop,” Levi says. He closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths. Erwin freezes, and then pulls out his fingers.

            “Levi?” he says. “Did I hurt –”

            “Go wash your hands,” Levi says. He brings his own up to his face, takes a deep breath.

            “I –”

            “Now, please,” Levi says.

            “Okay,” Erwin says.

            He’s gone a moment later, and Levi tries to breathe, and then abruptly sits up, looking at the sheets between his legs. There’s oil dripping down, but no evidence of anything else. He takes some more deep breaths.

            Erwin comes back, a concerned frown on his face, and gets back on the bed, kneeling near him. Levi flops back down. His heartrate starts slowing again. There’s an itch for a shower, but it’s not overwhelming. Something uncoiled in his chest once Erwin stopped touching him. Erwin puts a hesitant hand on Levi’s hip, and when Levi says nothing, starts running it over his skin – his stomach and hip and chest in a soothing motion. Levi feels his chest rise and fall, the breaths deepening.

            “Are you alright, Levi?” Erwin says.

            “Yeah,” Levi says. “I’m fine. I just… needed a moment.”

            “We can stop,” Erwin says. “We can do this another time.”

            “No,” Levi says. He’s gotten this far, and honestly, he did not go through that never ending fingering to stop now. He breathes a few more times, but the anxiety has simmered down again. “I’m fine,” Levi says. “Just – kiss me first.”

            Erwin smiles, and does just that.

 

 

            Erwin kisses and touches him until Levi’s hard again, until he’s aching, until he’s ready to threaten bodily harm if Erwin doesn’t get back to opening him again. Erwin starts and Levi feels that same twin sensation of fear and arching pleasure.

            “Touch yourself,” Erwin says. There’s something hard to his voice that has a shot of heat going through Levi’s stomach. He wraps his hand around himself.

            The first slide of Erwin’s cock, after Levi’s deemed himself prepped enough, is… very uncomfortable. Just this side of painful. Levi closes his eyes, breathes, stays as relaxed as possible and reminds himself that this is going to feel good in a minute. He makes Erwin wash his hands again before starting to fuck him. For some reason that Levi can’t really figure out, a cock in his ass does not feel as dirty, does not make him as anxious, as fingers do.

            It takes a couple minutes for Levi to really relax, for him to get used to it, and then, as Erwin starts to thrust into him, as his cock drags on Levi’s prostate and fills him and stretches his rim, Levi remembers exactly why he’d gone through the trouble, the discomfort, of having sex before.

            It’s good. It’s really, really fucking good. Easily better than his previous experiences. Levi’s eyes roll back. He thrusts his hips, turns his head to the side, and when Erwin leans down, Levi latches his arms around Erwin’s neck and bites at his collarbone, sucks a mark onto his chest.

            Erwin, for his part, only goes slowly for the first couple minutes, while Levi adjusts. His hips stutter and start, and Erwin pants next to Levi’s ear, against his mouth, at his neck.

            “God, Levi,” Erwin says. “Fuck, you’re…” He lets out a moan, and Levi is taken entirely by surprise at the flash of heat and the ache in his cock that flares through him at that noise. He wants to hear it again. He clenches on Erwin’s cock and gets exactly what he wanted.

            Levi pants. He’s never been loud himself. His hands claw at Erwin’s back.

            “I’m close,” Erwin says.

            “You had better not cum,” Levi says, fingers digging into Erwin’s back. Erwin laughs in answer. “I mean it, I did not get through all that prep for you to come in two minutes, Shitty Eyebrows.”

            Erwin laughs again. “I’m pretty certain it’s been more than two minutes,” he says, but his hips slow and Levi groans.

            “Faster,” Levi says. “Erwin – fuck, come on, don’t stop.”

            “You’re the one who told me I’d better not cum,” Erwin says.

            Levi reaches down between their bodies to fist his own cock instead, needing some replacement for the stimulation he’s lost at Erwin’s now slowed down thrusts. But Erwin grabs his wrist when he tries, and pulls it out of the way, presses it into the mattress by his head.

            Levi is entirely bewildered by the shot of arousal that elicits.

            “Erwin –” Levi says, clenching his hand to a fist.

            “Oh no,” Erwin says with a laugh in his voice. “If I can’t cum yet then neither can you.”

            “I’m not gonna – Erwin, fuck, come on,” Levi says. He presses against the hold weakly, but Erwin keeps his hand pinned. “You touch me then.”

            “Ask nicely,” Erwin says.

            Are you fucking kidding m – “Please fucking touch me,” Levi says.

            Erwin smiles at him though, then wraps a hand around Levi’s cock, making it twitch and Levi take in a sharp breath. “Why yes, Levi, of course.”

            “Asshole,” Levi says, but then he arches into the touch.

            “This is your cock, actually,” Erwin says.

 

 

            Erwin comes first, and then he jerks Levi off while still inside of him, until Levi spills over Erwin’s hand and onto his stomach, hips jolting with it. Levi pants, and Erwin collapses to his side, one hand over Levi’s stomach. They lay like that for approximately sixty seconds, just long enough for Levi to come down from his high, for the endorphins to buzz pleasantly through his body, for his eyes to close as his body goes limp – and Levi swears he hasn’t felt this good in years.

            It’s about sixty seconds of bliss, and then things come rising back.

            Cum is drying messy on his stomach and leaking from his ass, and as soon as the sensations register, Levi’s eyes are open, all of the arousal which had previously masked his disgust and anxiety gone, and he is up a moment later.

            “Shower,” Levi says, feet already on the ground. A twinge goes through his body but it’s not a bad ache, no sharp pain – despite Erwin’s size they’d taken too long prepping for Levi to be in much pain – he’s sore, but that’s all. He pauses though, looks back at the sheets, feels a swell of anxiety at the state of them, is torn momentarily between running for the shower and stripping the bed this instant.

            Erwin sits up though and sees as Levi freezes. He glances down. “I’ll change the sheets,” Erwin says. Levi still hesitates. “Go on,” Erwin says, “get the water running. I’ll change the sheets and then join you.”

            So Levi goes for the shower. He washes quickly, and feels the itch under his skin calm as cum and sweat run down the drain. He relaxes slowly, and then Erwin joins him, cleans himself up as well, and he relaxes some more.

 

 

            “Do you think we’ll actually retake Maria?” Levi says, after, when they’re lying in bed and Levi is staring at the ceiling, one of Erwin’s arms across his chest. The weight is solid and steady, and Levi feels it as his chest rises and falls with every breath. He’s not sure what makes him say it.

            Erwin’s eyes open next to him. He looks over at Levi for a moment. “What I think doesn’t matter,” Erwin says. “It’s what we must do.”

            Levi thinks of Isabel and her bird. He thinks of Furlan, saving money in the Underground, saving away pennies and searching out jobs and stashing it all away. The price for citizenship above ground was exorbitant. To get enough for three people? Is it what we must do because we need the land, need the farms and pastures and space, or is it because we need the hope of something better? Levi thinks. He looks over at Erwin, who still has his eyes open, looking back at him. And does it matter then, if we never achieve it? Is it all just a distraction from this shitty world? Levi looks at Erwin's eyes in the dim light of the room, and Levi sees a younger face, sharper eyes, an unwavering conviction, as Levi’s blade dig into his palm.

            Levi doesn’t ask. He knows Erwin’s answer.

 

 

Notes:

I just want you all to know that this did in fact take so long in large part because I could not figure out how to write the sex scene. So I hope that was at least okay.

Anyway I promise the next update won't take six months again. I actually have a good portion of the next chapter already written (just couldn't figure out how to get there, hence this chapter taking so long).

Another reason this chapter took so long: I've gotten really into my other fics lately. I'm particularly excited about Edge of a Knife right now, which deals with a lot of the same issues in this fic except it's modern/college au and Levi and Erwin are already in an established relationship. Also Furlan and Isabel are there because I love their dynamic with Levi.

That is to say, my other stories tend to have similar themes, so you might like them too - if you're looking for something to read while I work on updating.

As always, thanks for reading!

Chapter 20: Helpless

Summary:

Some unexpected problems arise.

Notes:

Hey it's only been 3 months this time!

 

            Erwin reads the notice twice, and his stomach sinks further and further with every line.

            He goes to Hange first, hands her the notice, and watches as her usual bright expression drains to a tight frown. Erwin watches her write a couple letters afterwards, and then he mails them the same day, paying extra to have them delivered as quickly as possible, rather than wait for the post.

            Neither of them say anything to Levi about it until the letters are returned, all with an answer of no. Only then do they gather in Hange’s office, and Erwin tells Levi about the notice.

            “I tried writing to my old professor and a couple of the hospitals in Sina, but they either don’t have any of the herb either or they’re unwilling to sell what they do have,” Hange says, “the prices have been going up the last couple months because of a shortage, but with winter starting it looks like some of the upper class in Sina panicked and bought up all the rest. I’m sorry, Levi. We should have realized this might happen and bought a longer store of it.”

            Levi is quiet while they tell him. “I have a little over a week’s worth left,” he says afterwards, his tone and expression blank.

            “We’ll wean you off it this time,” Hange says, “so it’s not abrupt like before. You shouldn’t get sick from it this way.”

            “Okay,” Levi says. He turns around, heads for the door. “I’ll get it then.”

            When Levi gets back, Erwin watches while Hange carefully measures out what’s remaining of the dried yellow flowers, the ones that Levi has been taking for years now. Erwin remembers the last time Levi stopped taking it, how he’d stopped eating, been withdrawn and miserable. Erwin doesn’t actually remember Levi seeming much worse with the cleaning during that time, but he’d felt physically ill for weeks, even after he started on it again.

            Hange separates the remaining dried flowers into decreasing amounts, over a two-week period, so that tomorrow Levi will take a little less than his normal dose, and by day fourteen he will be taking only a very small amount. It won’t be an abrupt cut off this way, like it was the last time he stopped taking it, but it’s still a much quicker weaning process than would normally take place under better circumstances.

            Erwin is worried. He’s very worried. Levi had only just started to feel better recently, after having a hellish few weeks where he’d been more despondent than Erwin has seen him in years. His eating habits had been improving, but he still isn’t eating as well as he should be, and Erwin’s very concerned that his progress is going to make an abrupt reversal. The last time he stopped taking the medicinal plant, that was his biggest symptom – a lack of appetite accompanied by nausea.

            “When will we be able to get more?” Levi says, once Hange has finished portioning them out.

            “We don’t know for sure,” Erwin says. “But Hange has sent out requests to the trading companies and merchants involved.”

            Levi looks back at him, eyes hard while his expression is completely blank. “You have an idea though,” he says. “Out with it.”

            Erwin hesitates. “It could be several months.”

            Levi lets out a slow breath. “Right,” he says.

            After winter. There will definitely be more after winter. Hange had heard from her contacts in Sina that the plant was becoming more popular, that it had a surge in demand which outran supply. It was a little known remedy previously, but it had recently started circulating among the upper class.

            Levi leaves after that. He refuses to talk about it more. That night he comes to Erwin’s room and after getting into bed, Erwin runs a finger down his arm.

            “It will be alright,” Erwin says.

            “Don’t,” Levi says.

            “Don’t what?”

            “Don’t make promises about things you have no control over,” Levi says.

            “It will be alright,” Erwin says. “I don’t need to have control over the outcome – it will be true with or without me.”

            “Naïve,” Levi says. His voice is soft, almost to himself.

            “Optimism isn’t the same as naivety.”

            “It’s not the same as realism either.”

            “I know it may be more difficult this way,” Erwin says, “but you will be okay, Levi. A plant is not the only thing holding you up. You underestimate your own strength, and you have Hange and I to lean on as well.”

            Levi’s facial features seem to twitch, to morph for a second into anger and bitter irritation, frustration. “You think it’s weakness, to scrape my hands raw, to hurt myself, to need to clean everything I see? You think it’s weakness, to feel like shit?” Levi says.

            “No,” Erwin says, frowning. “Of course not. You’re not weak for –”

            “Then why do you think strength has anything to do with it?” Levi says.

            And Erwin really has nothing to say to that.

 

 

            Erwin thinks about it all night, thinks about it all the next morning. Resilient, Erwin thinks, I didn’t mean strength perse, but resilience. But then, is Levi not resilient if he feels terrible? Making it through is not the same thing as feeling okay. He wants to tell Levi that it’s temporary, that eventually they’ll get the flower again, but he thinks that will be cold comfort, when there are potentially several months in front of him first, before they get there.

            Erwin wants to tell Levi that Levi has him now, that Erwin can offer him comfort that he couldn’t before, but it tastes arrogant on his tongue, to assume he can fix Levi’s problems singlehandedly. He can’t tell Levi that it’s better now, that he doesn’t need the flowers as much as he once did, because it’s a lie. He’s been doing worse – it’s started improving recently, but overall he’s still doing worse than he had in previous months and years.

            It’s going to be a really horrible time but I’m here for you and it will be okay in the end, feels like a resignation. It might be alright. It might be okay after all, feels weak.

            Levi avoids the topic. Erwin decides to take Levi’s lead on this, to give him space around it. He tries to be supportive without being obtrusive instead, tries to ask gentle questions about how he’s feeling, but he doesn’t push too much. He thinks spending too much time on it, treating the lack of flowers as a big deal, might just make it worse. He’s not sure avoiding the topic altogether is the best course of action either, but he doesn’t want to keep insisting on the subject if Levi’s determined to avoid it.

            A week after Levi starts weaning off the flowers, he has an attack of pain. A soldier comes and finds him, clearly sent by Levi, and tells him that Levi has requested him at his room. So Erwin goes to Levi’s room to find him already lying down in bed, on his back, sweat wetting his forehead and his eyes shut. Erwin moves quickly. He gets Levi’s painkiller, takes his arm gently, and injects it.

            Erwin watches Levi’s body relax a little. His eyes are still shut though. After a moment he presses his face to the side, away from Erwin, his expression tightening to a pained, almost anguished look. His fingers curl. His breathing is shallow, hitching.

            Erwin pulls over a chair beside Levi’s bed and then takes his hand. With his other hand he trails his fingers through Levi’s hair, and it’s a heartbreaking moment, the warmth flooding Erwin’s chest because finally he can comfort Levi the way he wants to without a taboo hanging over him – but Levi doesn’t react at all to the touch. His hand in Erwin’s seems to almost spasm, grip tightening and loosening in an erratic heartbeat. He turns farther away from Erwin, and Erwin sees his lips draw back to reveal his teeth, clenched tightly, eyes squeezing shut tighter as tears start to form in the corners, and a hitching groan of pain gets through his gritted teeth.

            It’s clearly a bad one. Levi rarely looks this pained after he’s had the medication. Erwin knows that people can build a tolerance to the painkillers over time, and wonders if Levi’s been taking it long enough to have started. He takes it so infrequently though, Erwin thinks, and so little of it, even when he does.

            Perhaps he’s just unlucky, and this is a particularly bad one, Erwin thinks. Maybe he injured or strained himself in some way.

            “Fuck,” Levi says, and Erwin’s attention is reigned back. Levi’s voice is very soft, huffed out between his teeth. The muscles in his face contract again, and a tear slips out to run down his cheek, his nose. He moves abruptly, turning his head back towards Erwin, curling a little bit. Levi makes a noise like he’s choking, like he can’t force air into his lungs. “Erwin,” he says.

            Erwin smooths a hand over the side of Levi’s face, wipes away a tearstain there. “I’m here,” he says. Levi squeezes his hand.

            “It hurts,” Levi says. His voice cracks.

            “It will end soon,” Erwin says, because there’s nothing else he can really say. That he knows, that he knows it hurts, that he’s sorry? But it’s a lie really, that it will end soon. It’s only just started.

            “F-fuck,” Levi says, head twisting again, wrenching Erwin’s hand upwards for a moment as he jerks his own hand.

            It’s always been hard to watch Levi in pain like this, when there is nothing really that he can do to help, and yet he’s getting used to this too. To watching Levi struggle and cry, how he goes silent, eyes shut, tensed for hours at a time. Erwin hasn’t had to watch Levi in quite this much pain in a long time though, not since he got the medication, Erwin thinks. He strokes Levi’s hair some more. “It’s okay,” he says, while thinking about how it is not.

            “I want more,” Levi says abruptly, in bitten out noises. He squeezes Erwin’s hand. “Erwin.”

            Erwin hesitates. They’ve gotten more painkiller recently, so Levi has enough to spare right now to take a second dose, often winds up taking a second dose anyway if the pain lasts long enough – will it be a long one today? But Levi’s never asked for more before the first dose has started wearing off, at least not when Erwin’s been with him.

            Then again, he hasn’t seen Levi in this much pain since he started taking the painkiller either.

            “Are you sure, Levi?” Erwin says.

            “Yes,” he says.

            So Erwin gets a new needle and fills the syringe with another quarter dose. He takes Levi’s opposite arm this time and injects the medication.

            He watches Levi tensely as he waits for the medication to hit. In only takes less than a minute for Levi to relax, for the tension in the lines of his face to ease. His breathing stays shallow and ragged. He opens his eyes for the first time since Erwin got there, and they’re unfocused and glassy, pained as he looks over at Erwin, tears escaping down the sides of his face.

            He looks young like this, unguarded, vulnerable. Erwin cups the side of his face, runs a thumb over his cheek, then near the corner of his lips. “I know,” Erwin says, because he can see it in Levi’s eyes with the drug-induced openness of his expression.

            Levi moves his free hand up, to grip lightly around Erwin’s wrist. His breath hitches and his eyes close as a sob catches in his throat.

            “Take a deep breath,” Erwin says, as gently as he can. “Let the medication work. It’s alright.”

            “Hurts,” Levi says. He closes his eyes tighter again. “Can’t think. Hate this.”

            “You don’t need to think. You’re safe, Levi. You’re safe here,” Erwin says. “Take deeper breaths, it’ll help with the pain.”

            Slowly, Erwin coaxes him into breathing a bit deeper, the rise and fall of his chest steadying, evening out. His body relaxes a little more in turn, as he both calms his breathing and the medication takes full effect.

            “Good, that’s good,” Erwin says. “Relax. You’re okay now.”

            “Feels awful,” Levi says, and Erwin’s not sure if he means the pain or the medication making him hazy – probably both.

            “It’ll be over soon,” Erwin says. “Just try to stay relaxed now. Would you like me to read something?”

            “Yeah,” Levi says.

            So Erwin finds a book on Levi’s desk and opens it to a bookmarked page, just a slip of torn paper sticking out. He places the book on the edge of the bed so he can flip pages with one hand and hold Levi’s with the other. He reads, gets up to get a canteen of water on Levi’s desk, reads again. Erwin watches the signs that the attack is ending start slowly appearing. Levi’s breathing gets less labored, his grip on Erwin’s hand lessens, his muscles untense. Levi’s eyes fall closed, tears gone. Erwin is just grateful it didn’t last longer than two hours, didn’t mean he was going through an entire vial of medication in one day.

            “Better now?” Erwin says when he comes to a stopping point in the book.

            “Yes,” Levi says.

            “The painkiller?”

            “Starting to wear off.”

            “Would you like me to get tea?” Erwin says. “Or I could join you?”

            Levi moves himself over in response, and Erwin carefully climbs onto the narrow bed.

            “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he says, but Levi makes room for him and then slowly leans back again, settling against him. Erwin rubs his arm, shoulder to elbow, and then trails his fingers down to Levi’s hand.

            “I think they’re getting worse,” Levi says after a bit, voice quiet and low.

            “The last few have just been rough,” Erwin says. In the cart outside the walls, in the storage shed in the woods after making himself sick with alcohol combined with the painkiller. It hadn’t really been getting worse before then, had it? But then, how long ago was it now, three months, four? The first time Levi stayed the night in his room, after he got a bout that lasted five hours?

            “We could try seeing a doctor again,” Erwin says.

            “Fuck that.”

            “It might be worth it to get a second opinion,” Erwin says.

            “I’m not seeing another doctor, Erwin,” Levi says.

            His tone is hard, and Erwin just trails his fingers along Levi’s arm again. He’s not going to push now, not when Levi’s exhausted and in pain.

 

 

            Three days later Erwin sits down in the side room off the mess hall that is reserved for higher-ranking soldiers at a table that is occupied by Levi and Hange. Hange is strangely quiet, and when Erwin sits down she shoots him a look that has him frowning, glancing from Hange to Levi.

            Levi, who is staring down at a meagre tray of a thin slice of bread and watery soup. Erwin glances at the tray itself, but there are no other utensils. Erwin’s own tray, as well as Hange’s have a second plate with beans and rice as well as vegetables.

            He hadn’t eaten very much at breakfast either, but Erwin had let it go without comment. He frowns now as Levi continues staring at the food. Erwin opens his mouth, but hesitates. He’s not sure what to say, what he can say that won’t only irritate Levi or make him defensive.

            “Levi –” Erwin starts, but Levi abruptly stands up, chair scraping backwards on the floor, and promptly gets up with his tray in hand without a word. Erwin watches him walk out of the room with it. He looks back at Hange then. She sighs. “Did he say anything?” Erwin says.

            She shakes her head, looking through the opening to the main room of the mess hall, but Levi doesn’t come back.

            Erwin eats quickly and then goes back to his rooms, but Levi is not there either. He starts to get a bad feeling, and goes to his office. He checks Levi’s room next. He doesn’t find him. Erwin hesitates before starting on a thorough search, but ultimately decides to just wait instead. He heads back to his rooms.

            He falls asleep sitting up in bed reading reports and jerks awake abruptly at the sound of his door opening and closing. He blinks and makes out a figure walking in, but Levi goes right past him to the washroom door and disappears inside.

            A candle lights, a warm yellow glow visible under the door. Erwin hears the water start.

            Erwin waits, but when Levi’s been in there for twenty minutes he gets up and knocks lightly at the door.

            “Levi?” he says. “Can I come in?”

            “No,” Levi’s muffled voice comes through.

            Erwin pauses. “Are you alright?” he says.

            “Yes.”

            Erwin sits back down. Perhaps Levi’s just soaking in the bath then, relaxing, and wants some time alone.

            Erwin waits another twenty minutes. He watches the clock, can’t quite focus on his book. The water has to be cold by now. Erwin gets up again, hesitant as he approaches the door. He can faintly hear running water. He wonders if Levi is refilling the tub.

            “Levi?” Erwin says.

            He waits. He doesn’t get an answer.

            “Levi, can I come in?” Erwin says. When he gets no response to that either, he tries the door handle, only to find it locked. “Levi?” Erwin feels his heart start beating faster, a sharp sense of alarm igniting. When after a moment he still gets no response, he presses his hand flat against the door, head close, trying to hear anything else. “Levi,” he says, a strain entering his voice. “You’re worrying me. Please, can you open the door?”

            There’s a pause, and then movement, and then the lock on the door clicks. Erwin waits another moment, but when Levi doesn’t open the door, Erwin pushes it open himself.

            Levi is standing at the sink, hands braced against it, head hanging down. He has pants on but no shirt, his feet bare. There are bandages wrapped all up his left arm.

            Erwin’s stomach sinks, sinks some more when he spots bloodied gauze on the floor, a cabinet open where Erwin has a small kit of bandages. It’s been a while since Levi’s hurt himself like this. Erwin walks slowly, comes up behind him, and smooths his hands over Levi’s bare shoulders. Levi doesn’t look up, head still hanging low, his breathing too labored.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. “Levi, come here.”

            Levi tenses up, moves stiffly as Erwin pulls him in, rigid and unhelpful. Erwin wraps his arms around Levi anyway. A beat passes, and then Erwin feels the material of his shirt pull and looks down to see the top of Levi’s head and one of his fists curled in Erwin’s shirt. His head presses into Erwin’s chest.

            Erwin rubs Levi’s back. “Have you cleaned them all?” he says.

            “Yeah,” Levi says. His voice is rough. His breathing still sounds labored.

            “They don’t need stitches?” Erwin says.

            “No.”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Let’s go to bed,” Erwin says.

            He wonders if it’s the right thing to say, as Levi moves, silent and ghost-like, to the bed, curling over on his side. Erwin gets in next to him, then places a hand along his back. He hesitates. It’s been so long since Levi’s hurt himself like this – deliberately, with a knife. And what’s more, he’d hidden from him. Told Erwin he was alright.

            Was he cutting himself when he said that? Erwin thinks. His stomach twists. He feels hurt and betrayed and can’t reconcile the feelings with the calm reasoning that Levi was hurting, that the lie wasn’t one of deception but of pain.

            “I’m feeling shit,” Levi says.

            Erwin glances down. It’s dim in their room, just one candle flickering on Erwin’s bedside table. Levi’s eyes are open. Erwin’s half-propped up next to him, his hand looking large where it rests over Levi’s side.

            Erwin leans down, turning on his side to better face Levi too. He presses his lips softly to Levi’s forehead. He leans back up again and Levi looks at him with a haunting expression, a dark, pained look with something suspicious, or maybe just uncertain.

            “I know,” Erwin says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

            Levi’s eyes lower again. “It’s in my head,” he says. “Stupid. If I could just forget.”

            Erwin frowns. “What do you mean?” he says.

            Levi lets out a rough exhale. “The flowers. The pain. It’s in my head all day. I wouldn’t feel so shitty if I just stopped thinking about how shit things are.”

            Erwin feels a bizarre sadness, like he should laugh but would be utterly incapable of it even if he tried. “Is that why you hurt yourself?” Erwin says. “To stop thinking about it?”

            “Something like that.”

            I wish you wouldn’t do this to yourself, Erwin almost says. And he can’t get the image of Levi sitting in the bathroom, on the floor, up against a wall with a knife in his hand, cutting lines across his wrist, while Erwin was steps away, waiting in bed for him, out of his head. He looks down at Levi, where Levi’s eyes are open but not looking at him, staring forward into Erwin’s side instead, and Erwin feels a sharp pang as he takes in the drawn, resigned pain on Levi’s face. Erwin’s teeth clench together and an unbidden wash of sadness sweeps over him.

            Erwin can’t count how many times he’s felt saddened or pained or deeply sympathetic for Levi, but it’s never been quite like this, has never been paired with quite this type of helplessness.

            Levi doesn’t ask for help. He is standoffish and guarded and it’s always like playing a chess match, choosing his words carefully, a give and take, trying to draw him out enough to help without making him balk outright. But now Levi is in his bed, curled next to him, telling him that he feels terrible. And Erwin has no idea how to make it better.

            Why aren’t I enough? he thinks suddenly. It’s a selfish, audacious thought, and he knows it, but he feels it anyway. Why had Levi hidden in the bathroom, cut himself with a knife, when Erwin was right there for him? And he knows that Levi had been happier, that their newfound relationship was a burden off him, that they’d both been clinging to it for too long – and Erwin, certainly, is still riding that high, and he can’t help the desperate voice in his head, why can’t it be enough?

            He is so tired of seeing Levi suffer. He runs a gentle hand through Levi’s hair. Levi doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge it at all. Erwin opens his mouth and has to pause as his throat tightens.

            “What can I do to help?” Erwin says.

            Levi’s expression only darkens some more. He seems to shrink. “I don’t know, Eyebrows,” he says quietly.

            The pet name just makes the knot in his throat worse, as does the utter resignation in Levi’s voice. It’s a consoling tone. Don’t talk like that, Erwin wants to say. Like he’s given up already. Like there’s nothing Erwin can possibly do.

            “What will make you feel better?” Erwin says. Levi is quiet for a long moment, eyes still open, looking at nothing. “Anything,” Erwin says. “It doesn’t need to be a fix, it doesn’t need to make everything better, just – anything that will help for a moment, for tonight. We can make tea. I can read to you, or hold you, anything you like.”

            Levi just keeps looking forward, eyes far away, but his expression changes slightly. Erwin can’t place it. He’s once again at a loss, and the desperation and helplessness creeps up again. Erwin brushes through Levi’s hair with his fingers again. He rubs the back of Levi’s neck with his thumb, hand still in his hair.

            “That feels nice,” Levi says.

            He glances back up at Erwin and Erwin nearly starts. “This?” he says. He runs his fingers through Levi’s hair again.

            “Yeah. Feels nice,” Levi says. His eyes slip closed. “Don’t tell Shitty Glasses.”

            Erwin’s sure he’s never felt such heartbreaking tenderness. He continues carding his fingers gently through Levi’s hair.

            “Will you sleep?” Erwin says.

            “Maybe. I think so,” Levi says. He pauses. “Take a while though probably. You can sleep.”

            Erwin eases back against the pillows some more. “I’ll wait until you fall asleep,” Erwin says.

            “You don’t have to,” Levi says. “Could be hours.”

            “Until you fall asleep or my arm gets too tired then,” Erwin says. He leans forward and presses another soft kiss to Levi’s forehead, strands of hair brushing his face.

            “Okay,” Levi says.

           

           

            It is only two days later that Erwin is sitting in a meeting with Mike and another squad leader, Klaus, when a knock at his office door interrupts them.

            Erwin pauses in a question about their supply of maneuvering gear. “Yes?” he says. “Come in.”

            A soldier opens the door and hastily salutes. Erwin nods at her, and she relaxes her stance again. “Squad leader Hange is asking for you, Commander,” she says. “She said it was urgent.” Erwin sighs. Things are always urgent with Hange. Before he can say something to the effect of, he’ll stop by once he’s finished, she continues. “She said it’s about Captain Levi.”

            Erwin frowns, and then nods. “Right,” he says. “You can be dismissed, no need to send a reply, I’ll head over shortly.”

            He wraps up the meeting while Mike raises a discreet eyebrow at him. Erwin ignores the look. They haven’t talked more about Erwin and Levi’s relationship, or at least, not in terms they wouldn’t have before Mike’s conversation. Erwin’s mentioned the shortage of flowers.

            He wraps up the meeting quickly, and then takes off for Hange’s office. It’s in the same building, just a floor down, so it’s surprising that she hadn’t simply come herself. It makes him nervous, the more he thinks about it, and he knocks on her office door with worry.

            He gets a yell to come in, and opens it to see Hange looking up at him from a seat across the room and Levi lying on his back on a bench with his cloak drawn over him and a blanket under him, his eyes closed and a look of discomfort across his features.

            “He’s had another attack,” she says, with a grim, sympathetic expression. “He passed out.”

            Erwin is surprised. Levi has very rarely passed out from them. His frown deepens. “Did he not get his medicine?” he says.

            “He did,” Hange says.

            Erwin glances down at Levi. His breathing looks labored even as he’s unconscious. “And he still passed out?” Erwin says. He pulls over a chair and sits down.

            Hange nods. “It hadn’t worn off yet either. I don’t know if it’s a sign that he’s dehydrated and malnourished or if the pain was just worse. Have to ask him when he wakes up.” She pauses. “I think it was worse though. He was asking for you.”

            Erwin feels a bolt of guilt that he hadn’t hurried over faster. Without thinking he reaches out and brushes Levi’s hair back. When he realizes what he’s doing he freezes and looks up at Hange, but she’s not even looking at him, just staring grimly down at Levi.

            “The last one wasn’t even a week ago,” Erwin says. They never come this close together.

            Hange says nothing for a long moment. Silences with her are uncommon and Erwin finds himself looking to her, questioning, a sense of trepidation heightening every second she stays silent. She glances abruptly upwards again. “Could be stress,” she says. “It’s known to trigger pain. Or maybe he’s hurt it again, done something to aggravate the injury.” Her lips purse together. “I’m going to mail a couple letters.”

            “You don’t think this is a fluke,” Erwin says as his stomach sinks.

            She looks up at him. “No,” she says. “It’s a possibility, but no, I don’t think so. They’ve been getting closer together for a while. I think they’ve been getting worse too.”

            “I don’t know if I can convince him to see another doctor,” Erwin says.

            Hange sighs. “I don’t think it really depends on you, Erwin,” she says, looking down at Levi again. “When this becomes intolerable, he’ll go. Only he can decide what’s tolerable and what’s not.” She looks back up at Erwin, a resigned grimace on her face. “But if I were you, I’d start figuring out how you’re going to fund another hospital trip.”

 

 

Notes:

I know this chapter is kind of short, I wound up cutting it in half while I finish the next part. The good news is I think the next chapter should come very soon. Hoping to get it out within the next two weeks... but as always, my posting is horribly erratic, so we'll see what happens.

Things are going to get worse before they get better, I'm gearing up to the second kind-of-ish climax of the story. And then afterwards we should see Eren and co, but that's at least a few chapters away. I'm still undecided on how far I'm going into the canon timeline. I think that I will probably not stick with canon, but I'm still piecing out what that's going to look like.

Apologies to those hoping I'd finally give Levi a break, clearly I'm incapable of doing so. More seriously, I'm not very good at writing domestic/romantic/fluff stuff and I usually get kind of bored writing it too (not reading it, I love reading it) so on to the angst and misery we go. I'm afraid I might have rushed it a bit but I'm really excited for the next phase of this story. It took me a while to work out, but now that I have a better idea of the direction I'm excited to get there.

Please let me know what you think! And a huge thank you for all the comments and kudos!

Chapter 21: Intolerable

Summary:

We endeavor to define intolerable.

Notes:

Hey, look at that, another chapter! Hope I am redeeming myself for that 6 month break

 

 

            Over the next two weeks, a couple of things happen.

            Levi finishes out his remaining flowers, complains of nausea and stomach pain, and although Erwin hasn’t managed to get him on a scale, he’s sure Levi’s lost weight from it. He has another attack of pain. Erwin is there this time, and it’s horrible. He’s going through painkiller much faster than usual. If things continue, he’ll run out long before their next trip to Mitras.

            “Don’t give me a second dose until the first wears off next time,” Levi tells him and Hange, after it’s over, as he eyes what’s left of his medicine. “Even if I ask for it. Even if I beg.” Erwin tries to imagine Levi begging and in pain and seriously doubts his ability to hold back if he’s put in such a position. It makes him feel sick just thinking about it.

            Erwin waits until later when Levi is no longer in any pain, when he’s calm and sitting in Erwin’s bed reading, before he brings up the idea of a doctor again.

            “I know last time was a horrible experience,” Erwin says, “but it might be worth it to try again, see if we can find someone else to take a look.”

            Levi ignores him except for a terse “no” without looking up from his book. Erwin leaves it alone. He thinks about what Hange said. She’s right, he thinks as he sits in the bed next to Levi, his own book in his hands. He glances over though, just at the book Levi’s holding, his fingers curled around the edges of it. A white bandage peaks out from under the sleeve of one arm. Erwin knows that he’s cut himself at least once more since the day Erwin found him in the bathroom, though he doesn’t know when, just saw the marks afterwards.

            Only Levi could decide when this situation becomes intolerable. But Erwin has a nagging fear that Hange is wrong, that it’s not such a simple dichotomy, that it is not either tolerable and he will keep on the same, or it is intolerable and he will go see a doctor. With every day that goes by, as Levi’s despondent mood and withdrawn manner only lingers and deepens, Erwin becomes more afraid that Levi sees a third option there.

 

           

            When Levi hears the hatch to the roof open behind him, he assumes that it’s Erwin. Levi’s sitting up on the ledge of the roof of the main building, watching as dusk settles over the horizon. When they’d first come above ground, all three of them had been awed by the phenomenon of sunsets. Farlan in particular loved sunrises. He’d wake up early to make sure he was outside to watch, nearly every day.

            Isabel and Levi had both always struggled with nightmares. But Farlan was the only one of them to start getting nightmares only after they went aboveground.

            “It reminds me that we’re out,” Farlan had said, one morning when he’d nearly missed the sunrise, and had all but bolted from the barracks to catch it. Levi and Isabel had teased him for it, but Levi can still remember the strained way he said it, how his body had relaxed as he watched the sky slowly light up. Levi shut up about it after that.

            But the aboveground dark has never scared Levi, and sunsets and sunrises didn’t keep their awe-struck appeal for him either. Instead, it’s the stars. He likes watching them appear, dotting the night as the sun’s light fades, watching the sky go from golden to deep blue to inky. The time right after sunset is his favorite time of day.

            They’re just appearing now, the sun below the horizon but the air still that deep blue, just the edge of dusk. He’s supposed to be at dinner right now, but he can’t stand the idea of the mess hall, of the food that will taste like ash in his mouth, of the loud clamor. So when he hears the hatch to the roof clang open behind him, he assumes that it is Erwin looking for him. He is surprised when he hears Eld’s voice instead.

            “Hey, Captain.”

            Levi only grunts in acknowledgment. Eld walks forward to stand next to him, and after a couple of moments he sits down too, looking out.

            “Gunther and I were gonna play some cards tonight,” Eld says. “You should join us.”

            Levi makes another non-committal grunt.

            “Petra didn’t believe me when I told her you always cheat at poker,” Eld says.

            Levi feels a flicker of a smile. “Who says I cheat?” he says.

            “Me. I know you cheat, Levi,” Eld says.

            “You’ve never caught me cheating.”

            “I am positive you cheat.”

            “Doesn’t count unless you catch me.”

            Eld laughs. Levi smiles just a bit.

 

 

            When Levi is once again not at dinner, Erwin worries. When he can’t be found in Erwin’s office either, nor with Hange, he worries some more. As he walks through the lower level common areas of the officer barracks to go look in his own room, he is surprised when he hears loud laughter, following by voices yelling over each other. A moment later he hears the unmistakable low tone of Levi’s voice.

            He glances in for only a moment, to see Levi’s squad sitting around a table, playing what appears to be poker. No one sees him except for Levi, who’s eyes are on him before Erwin even sees Levi himself – it might be disconcerting, the way it seemed he almost sensed him there, but Erwin only smiles. Levi doesn’t smile back, but there’s a light look in his eyes. His attention goes back to his squad and Erwin continues back to his rooms.

            He waits up for Levi, who gets there about an hour later. He slips into the room almost silently, and Erwin looks up. He can’t help the soft smile on his face when he sees Levi, and his body relaxes a little when he takes in Levi’s expression and his body language, just a bit looser than it has been recently.

            He disappears into the washroom and Erwin hears the water going. Levi’s back out quickly though, in clean pants but no shirt. Erwin perks up a little as Levi walks towards him, something sharp in his eyes. Erwin quirks one eyebrow up just as Levi climbs on the bed and moves forward to kiss him.

            It’s deep and pressing, insistent. Erwin is quick to catch up. He gets a hand on the back of Levi’s head, holding him close. Levi has a hand on Erwin’s hip, the other holding himself up.

            “I like it better when you’re sitting down,” Levi says against his mouth. Erwin’s eyes flicker open to see it curve, the glint of Levi’s eyes up close, almost too close to focus on. “You’re too fucking tall. Can’t reach you like this.”

            Erwin laughs. There’s been a couple times now Levi’s stepped in front of him and merely stared expectantly until Erwin leans down to kiss him. When he’s feeling less patient, he grabs at Erwin’s shirt to pull him down.

            Erwin runs his free hand down Levi’s side, over his chest. He feels oddly delighted, both because it’s been a while now since they’ve done anything but lie together in bed, exchange a few soft kisses, and because he’s relieved and happy that Levi’s feeling well enough to initiate something. He hasn’t seemed up to much at all recently and Erwin’s been very hesitant because of it. He doesn’t want to push, or to make Levi think he’s unhappy, especially when sex can make Levi anxious as well.

            So when Levi starts for the drawstring of his pants, Erwin can’t quite keep the sloppy grin off his face. Levi glances up at him, and then narrows his eyes.

            “What’s with that look?” he says.

            “Nothing,” Erwin says, “I’m just happy.”

            Levi gives him a look like he’s crazy, but Erwin just smiles wider, and Levi goes back to getting Erwin’s pants off. Levi’s pants go next. He moves back to get them off, and Erwin watches him move. His eyes slip to Levi’s left arm, where the marks from when he cut himself are still visible, though mostly healed. A few on his opposite arm as well, but no fresh ones at least.

            His attention is drawn back when Levi abruptly returns to kissing him, now fully straddling him. It’s only a moment, and then Levi is getting rid of both of their underwear as well.

            “You’re particularly impatient tonight,” Erwin says, but makes no move to stop him.

Levi doesn’t pause to look up. Instead, he leans across Erwin to stretch and reach the bedside table next to him. He pulls the drawer open and rummages inside for a second before grabbing the bottle of oil, which he promptly shoves in Erwin’s hands.

            Erwin looks back down at the oil, smiling again. “You’re not very subtle,” he says

Erwin glances up to catch the look in Levi’s eyes, dark and blown wide and he’s already breathing just the slightest bit heavier. Levi scowls at him though. “When have I ever been fucking subtle?”

            Erwin laughs. He places the oil to the side, and Levi’s eyes follow the movement. Levi opens his mouth, to protest, Erwin is sure, but Erwin leans up and gets a hand behind Levi’s neck to pull him forward before he can, cutting off his voice. Erwin hooks one of his legs up and moves so he’s no longer under Levi, more side to side, half pulling Levi down as well. Levi’s hips grind against him, already hard.

            “Relax,” Erwin says, “we’ve only just started.”

            His hands run over Levi’s shoulders, feel the way he strains a bit, with the way he’s positioned, propping himself up. Erwin’s always known how strong Levi is, but feeling it up close, as they move together, is far more tantalizing than Erwin would have expected, affects him much more than he would have expected. He was surprised, the first few times they’d done more than kiss, how much his body reacted to simply seeing Levi like this, how much he reacted, how much he liked it.

He has always found Levi’s eyes captivating, but the look of Levi’s eyes when he’s aroused, his attention fully on Erwin, is so terribly enticing, erotic in a way Erwin was not expecting. He will never get tired of that impatient, hungry, excited look on Levi’s face. He doesn’t think it will ever fail to bring a wash of heat that seems to run through his whole body.

            Levi is impatient, insistent. It’s a sharp contrast to how he’s been acting lately, enough that Erwin wonders if it was just enjoying time with his squad which has lifted his mood, or if something else has happened. Either way, Erwin’s just happy that he seems to be feeling okay right now. His behavior is, however, very in line with how Erwin has learned he typically is during sex – with zero patience, pushy and bold. But he still yields with surprising submission, though he complains the whole time.

            Despite Levi’s attempt at haste, Erwin slows things down, wants to take his time. It’s seemed so long since they’ve done this, though Erwin knows it hasn’t really been, and he just wants to savor it, to not rush through anything. It’s still all new enough to him too that Erwin is still discovering what Levi likes, what he himself likes, and he’s eager to explore everything, even if Levi is intent on getting to the main event as quickly as possible. They still haven’t had sex, or at least anal sex, many times. While Erwin has no doubts that Levi enjoys it, it does clearly make him anxious, and he’s been straightforward about when he’s feeling calm enough to try and when he’s not.

            Levi’s always been blunt, but today he is being particularly to the point. Even with Erwin’s resolve that they take their time, he winds up between Levi’s legs with the bottle of oil back in his hands shortly. He’s found that it helps Levi keep from getting too anxious if he’s more aroused, if Erwin distracts him with touches to his cock and kisses and fingers over his nipples.

            It becomes clear very quickly today that Levi is having trouble relaxing. He tenses up as soon as Erwin starts touching his hole, which certainly doesn’t help the process. Erwin abandons his efforts to move up and kiss Levi instead. He’s careful not to touch him with the hand that’s been inside him.

            “Keep going,” Levi says, reaching up tangle his fingers in Erwin’s hair, his other hand sliding across Erwin’s back.

            “Let’s take a break,” Erwin says.

            “Fuck that, come on, keep going,” Levi says, giving the smallest tug on his hair, urging him back again.

            So Erwin keeps going. He tries using his mouth on Levi’s cock while he fingers him, but this only manages to distract him for a couple minutes before he grows tense and fidgety again. When he starts going soft, Erwin stops.

            Levi’s biting his lip, hands fisted, and Erwin can see anxiety bubbling up in his eyes. “Keep going,” he says though.

            “Levi, you’re clearly not enjoying this,” Erwin says, “maybe we should try something else.”

            “I’ll enjoy it once you get your cock in me,” Levi says. “So hurry up and keep going so we can get to that.”

            Erwin runs his left hand down Levi’s side. He watches Levi take long breaths. Erwin knows Levi finds fingering harder to deal with for some reason, but it is a necessary prerequisite and it will be impossible if Levi keeps tensing up so much.

            Levi’s expression goes a little more pleading, a little more open though. “I want to, Erwin,” he says.

            “Okay,” Erwin says. “But you need to relax a little more. I don’t want to hurt you.”

            “Yeah, okay,” Levi says. He takes a deep breath and his muscles relax intentionally.

            It doesn’t last. Erwin manages to get two fingers in before Levi’s gritting his teeth, discomfort and anxiety written all over his face. He’s barely stopped when Levi’s biting the words out. “Fuck, don’t stop, keep going.”

            “Levi –” Erwin starts.

            “I want to,” Levi says. “I want to, Erwin, I just need to get this fucking part over with, just keep going.”

            “I’m not going to intentionally hurt you,” Erwin says.

            “It doesn’t hurt,” Levi says. “It’s just a little uncomfortable, it’s fine.” He sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

            “I don’t want to do anything you don’t enjoy,” Erwin says.

            “There’s always going to be parts of sex that I don’t enjoy, Erwin,” Levi says. He’s calmed down a bit and now he looks more annoyed and impatient than anything, as he leans up on the pillows, scowling at him. “I don’t enjoy getting semen all over me. I don’t enjoy having to clean up afterwards. I don’t enjoy cum in my mouth or spit on my skin from you mouthing at me and I don’t enjoy how it hurts a little when you first put your cock in me, and I don’t enjoy the idea of having fingers in me – but I deal with it all anyway because it’s fucking worth it, Erwin,” Levi says. “So don’t tell me what I do or don’t want.”

            “Alright,” Erwin says. He runs his hand over Levi’s thigh. “But you need to tell me if it becomes too much, if it hurts more than a little or if you start to panic.”

            “Deal, keep going,” Levi says.

            “You need to relax more,” Erwin says. “What can I do?”

            “Kiss me,” Levi says.

            So Erwin does, and he keeps going this time, even when Levi clenches tightly around his fingers, even when Levi’s kissing grows passive and distracted, even when Erwin starts hearing his breaths go a bit too fast. And then Levi tenses, and his lips still completely against Erwin’s mouth, and Erwin’s just leaning up to ask if he’s alright when the word falls from Levi’s lips.

            “Stop,” he says. It comes out so quiet, tiny. Levi’s eyes are screwed shut. Erwin already has his fingers out of his hole when he continues, louder this time. “Stop. Fuck, stop.”

            Erwin leans up. He’s reaching for Levi’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says. “It’s –”

            But Levi’s up, off the bed and in the washroom a second later. He doesn’t shut the door and Erwin jumps after him only to find Levi already in the shower, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. Erwin reaches for the curtain.

            “Hands,” Levi says without looking up. Erwin pivots to the sink, washing his hands thoroughly before joining Levi in the shower, finding him scrubbing at his skin and mumbling to himself. “Fuck, fuck, shit.” Levi throws the sponge down and presses his hands to his face again. “Fuck.”

            It takes Erwin a moment to realize that the primary emotion Levi’s giving off is not in fact panic, but frustration.

            “It’s alright, Levi, we can try again another time,” Erwin says.

            “It’s not alright, it’s – this fucking –” Levi says, letting out a harsh noise, hands dropping from his face, balling to fists. “I want to,” Levi says. “I want to, I just – I –”

            “I know,” Erwin says. “But we’ll have plenty of opportunities. We don’t –”

            “I can’t even fucking do this,” Levi says, turning away from him, towards the wall. His hands clench tighter and his arms tense. For a moment Erwin thinks he’s about to punch the wall, but he doesn’t.

            “We can’t do it tonight,” Erwin says gently. “I know it’s frustrating, that’s valid, but we’ll have more chances.”

            Levi lets out a harsh breath. He clenches and unclenches his hands. Erwin reaches for him, and as Levi turns back to him, Erwin’s surprised at the sudden sadness and pain in Levi’s expression. It makes Erwin abruptly frown, both hands reaching for Levi’s shoulders now, and Levi steps into the embrace. Erwin wraps his arms around Levi’s body, the shower spray hitting them. Levi presses his forehead to Erwin’s chest and Erwin bends to kiss the top of Levi’s head.

            “I just want one fucking night, I just want one fucking night where I don’t feel like shit,” Levi says.

            Erwin holds him tightly. “I’m sorry, Levi,” he says softly.

            Levi’s voice shakes. He speaks into Erwin’s chest, like it’s easier that way, easier to hide his face, to not have to look Erwin in the eye. “I want Hange’s stupid fucking flowers back,” he says. “My back hurt all fucking day today, Erwin,” he says. “It only just stopped a couple hours ago, it’s hurt all fucking day.”

            Erwin frowns some more. “Did you –”

            “I didn’t have an attack,” Levi says. “It just hurt, it’s been…” Levi swallows. “It’s been hurting other times too.”

            Erwin’s surprised. Levi hasn’t said anything about it, and a wash of guilt goes over him – how had he not noticed? How had he not noticed that Levi had been in pain? But Erwin’s surprised and confused – he knows that the pain sometimes lingers after an attack for a few hours, for the day if it’s been a bad one, but he’s never said anything about it hurting other times as well.

            Erwin squeezes him tighter for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he says.

            Levi lets out a sad huff, almost a laugh. “Because I don’t wanna see a fucking doctor,” he says. And then he presses his forehead into Erwin’s chest and his voice is fast this time. “I don’t wanna go back, I don’t wanna go to the hospital in Mitras, I don’t want anyone to touch me.”

            “No one is going to force you to go,” Erwin says. “You don’t have to.”

            “It hurts all the fucking time,” Levi says, quiet, like it’s a confession, like he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself.

            Erwin sucks in a breath. “How long has it been this bad?” he says.

            Levi is quiet for a beat, hesitates. “Since the last expedition,” he says.

            Erwin’s stomach drops. That long? He thinks.

            “Think I hurt it, when I… outside the wall, after I was in the cart, and I’d just had an attack, and then I cut down that titan right after,” he says. “It wasn’t that bad at first. Just aches and shit, just sometimes. It’s been…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s only been really bad the last couple weeks.”

            Erwin wonders if it could be related to stopping the medicinal herb or if his condition would have degraded regardless. Hange has never mentioned any painkilling properties of the plant, but Erwin wonders if Levi’s psychological state isn’t influencing his physical pain to some extent.

            “I know you don’t want to see a doctor,” Erwin says, “and you don’t have to, it’s your choice, but maybe we could talk to Hange about finding someone. Maybe we could set up an appointment just to talk with someone, without a physical examination, just to see what they think. And you can decide if you want to go back to have any further treatment. And that way if you do decide to go back, you’ll know exactly what to expect.” Erwin brings one hand up, through Levi’s wet hair. “But you wouldn’t have to go back if you didn’t want to.”

            Levi’s silent for a long moment. “I wouldn’t have to do anything but sit there?” he says. “I’d go and they wouldn’t touch me, not even to just take my pulse, or listen to my heart or something.”

            “Yes, we’d just set up a meeting to talk through it, get another opinion, see if there’s anything we can do,” Erwin says. “And if there’s not, then what the next steps would be, if you did decide to get more treatment. But we’d just talk about it. You don’t have to actually get any other treatment unless you want to. And we would schedule it for another day.”

            Levi tilts his head down again. Erwin feels the weight of it against his chest, over the top of his sternum, solid. He finds it oddly comforting. “Okay,” Levi says.

            “Okay?”

            “Yeah. As long as they don’t touch me. I don’t want them trying to either. You have to tell them I’m not doing anything.”

            “Of course,” Erwin says. “We can talk to Hange tomorrow.”

            “Can you just talk to her?” Levi says. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says. “If you’re sure.”

            Levi nods.

            “Do you want me to wash your hair?” Erwin says.

            “Yeah,” Levi says, “that be nice.”

            Erwin washes Levi’s hair while Levi leans back against Erwin’s chest, which makes for an awkward angle, but Erwin doesn’t complain. When he’s finished and Levi’s back is to the spray, looking at him as Erwin finishes combing through his hair, helping the water wash the soap away, Erwin pauses.

            “It’s getting late. We could go to bed if you’d like,” Erwin says, “or if you still want to, we could pick up where we left off. Just without the fingering this time.”

            Levi’s eyes fall to Erwin’s lips. “Can we stay in the shower?” he says.

            “Yes,” Erwin says, and then he kisses him.

 

 

            Two weeks later, Hange, Erwin, and Levi are on a carriage bound for Mitras, to see one of the most highly revered (and expensive) doctors within the walls. Levi’s eyes had widened when Erwin told him the date of his appointment.

            “How the hell did you get that so fast?” Levi said.

            Erwin cringed a little. “We might have ah, started looking already.”

            They’d done more than that. Everything was waiting, just had to be finalized. Erwin doesn’t give Levi the details. Levi seems rather surprised at the fast timing though, and nervous as a result. Erwin thinks Levi probably thought he had a lot more time before he’d have to actually go for an appointment. But Erwin is concerned at the rapid progression of his pain and the effect it has on his mood. Nothing has improved in the last two weeks, though Erwin’s gotten a little better at anticipating Levi’s downswings.

            Erwin books three rooms in an inn in Mitras knowing that they will only use two. Levi hardly sleeps the night before the appointment. He’s restless and fidgety and keeps moving around.

            “Nothing will happen tomorrow,” Erwin says, tries to reassure him again.

            “I know that,” Levi says, rolling over in bed to reach the glass of water on the bedside table.

            “There’s no reason to be anxious,” Erwin says. “It’s a consultation, nothing more. We’re just going to get some information.”

            “I’m not anxious,” Levi says.

            Erwin refrains from pointing out the absolute falsity of that statement.

            “It’s okay to be nervous,” he says instead, backtracking, “but you won’t actually do anything tomorrow. Just talk. You’re just getting information.”

            “I know,” Levi says.

            The next morning, Erwin finds himself once again being left alone at an inn while Levi and Hange go to the hospital.

            “I’m sure it’s perfectly fine to have us both there,” Erwin says, when Levi says he is only taking Hange again.

            “It’ll look weird for you to come. Hange’s practically my doctor, she makes sense,” Levi says.

            “I’m your commander,” Erwin says, “and I would be involved in the financial decisions of your treatment, so it would make perfect sense for me to accompany you to an appointment, especially one that’s just to talk about possible –”

            “It’ll look weird,” Levi says.

            “Levi –”

            Levi scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re the one who keeps telling me there’s no reason to be anxious, so there’s no reason I need you there too. You know Hange will tell you everything after. You wouldn’t do this for any other soldier. It will be suspicious for you to come, Erwin.”

            Erwin deflates. He acquiesces. Levi feels a bit like a jerk as he leaves him standing there in the inn, walking towards the carriage.

            The last time they were in Mitras to see a doctor for his back, Levi had insisted only Hange come because he hadn’t wanted to feel crowded, hadn’t wanted to feel people watching as he was examined, and he needed Hange to go because she knew medicine. This time, the same feelings are still present, and he meant what he said about it looking weird, but really he’s more afraid of his own and Erwin’s reactions, and the suspicion that could draw.

            They get to the hospital, and from there Levi starts checking out. He lets Hange sign him in, lets Hange lead him down the hospital halls, lets her find the room they’re supposed to be in. He doesn’t want to think too hard about where he is, and definitely not about all the illness and filth the place is sure to be crawling with.

            The doctor arrives. He’s an older man with gray hair and wrinkled hands. Levi finds himself strangely staring at his hands. He’s not wearing gloves. For once in his life, Levi actually finds that comforting, because if he’s not wearing gloves, then he’s not planning on examining Levi, means he won’t be touching him. There’s a gold band around one finger. Blue veins standing out on the backs of his hands.

            There is an introduction. Levi shakes his hand. Hange does as well. All three of them sit down. The doctor addresses him as “Captain Levi,” the same as most people do when they learn he doesn’t give a last name and decorum would frown upon just “Levi.” He calls Hange “Ms. Zoe.”

            Levi describes the attacks of pain in monotone, straight forward. He gives a brief history – when they started, how they’d stopped for a while, then he’d reinjured it and they’d started again, how they stayed steady at about once sometimes twice a month after that for several years. How they’d been getting worse and closer together recently. How he’d started experiencing pain outside the more acute attacks.

            “And describe the pain to me,” he says, nodding, jotting things down. Hange has her fucking notebook out again as well, Levi sees.

            “Bad,” Levi says.

            “He has passed out during them but usually doesn’t,” Hange adds. She’s been jumping in throughout Levi’s monologue, though she’s generally just been letting him talk, not interrupting.

            “Burning, throbbing, are there other sensations?” he says.

            “Searing,” Levi says. It’s the first thing that pops up in his head.

            “And the location of the pain?”

            “All over, really,” Levi says. “Worst in my lower back, the left side.”

            “Hm, the left side,” the doctor says, nodding. “Pain anywhere besides your back? Does it radiate down to your hip or leg at all?”

            Levi’s eyes widen just a little. He shifts in his seat. “My leg, a little.”

            “On the left side?”

            “Yeah.”

            The doctor nods. He asks a couple more questions, and then finally looks up from his notes.

“Well, Captain Levi,” he says, “without examining you further, my assumption is that you have a herniated disc. Simply put, there are discs of tissue between the bones of the spine, and these discs can rupture, sometimes causing pain. It’s a fairly new procedure, but there does exist an operation to fix the problem. I don’t always recommend it as treatment because it does carry some risk, but it sounds like in your case this is debilitating enough to warrant it.”

            Levi’s eyes blow wide. He stares at the doctor for a moment. Hange clears her throat.

            “Surgery?” Levi says. “You’re talking about surgery?”

            “Yes,” he says. “Like I said, it’s a fairly new procedure, but I’ve performed it successfully many times already. It’s unlikely to get better on its own if it’s been afflicting you for this long already. We can discuss pain management as well, but because your case is severe and it’s interfering with your functioning, I would recommend we operate.”

            “Operate,” Levi says.

            His mind goes white. His eyes drop to the doctor’s hands, his fingers curled around a clipboard and a pen. A wave of nausea runs over him. He feels like he’s going to be sick.

            Operate. It rings in Levi’s ears. Operate, operate.

            Levi stands abruptly. “I’m going to step out,” he says.

            “Levi,” Hange says. She reaches for his arm.

            “Tell her the rest of it,” Levi says.

            “Levi –” Hange says again, but Levi’s hand is already on the door.

            “I’m going to step out,” he says.

            He opens the door and doesn’t look behind him, just walks the few meters down the hall, where there is a bench. He sits down on it, and then curls forward, elbows braced on his knees, head in his hands, hanging down. He stares at the floor.

            Operate.

            Levi stays there, sitting on the bench, staring at the floor with the sound of his own breathing in his ears. He has no idea how long he’s sitting there when he hears the sound of the door opening, then shutting softly. Footsteps, one pair, and then a hand on his shoulder.

            “Levi,” Hange says.

            “Hm.” Levi doesn’t look up.

            “Do you have any questions?” Hange says. “Did you want to ask him anything?”

            “No.”

            “He had some noninvasive methods for how to reduce the pain too,” she says. “Do you want to come back inside and he can tell you about it?”

            “He already told you?” Levi says.

            “Yes.”

            “You can tell me later.”

            “Are you sure you don’t want to ask him anything? Have him explain what the procedure would actually entail, or what your other options are?”

            “No.”

            “Okay,” Hange says. “You ready to go then, Shorty?”

            Levi gets up. He follows Hange out. It’s not until they get into the carriage, not until the carriage is moving, that Levi’s hands start shaking. He has his head down again, elbows on knees. He feels dizzy. He squeezes his eyes shut and fists his hands in his hair.

            “Fuck,” he says.

            For once, Hange is silent. She sits next to him and rubs his back. Levi’s heart starts pounding. He can’t stop the thoughts that come rushing in. How much painkiller would they give him? He’d be conscious, probably. Would it hurt? Would it hurt a lot? Or would they give him too much painkiller for that? If they gave him enough though, he’d be so fucking out of it, wouldn’t be able to think at all. It would be terrifying. Would he panic, would they hold him down?

Levi’s stomach turns. He feels sick. Erwin wouldn’t be able to stay with him during the procedure – probably not Hange either. He’d be alone. How long would he have to stay in the hospital afterwards? His skin crawls. A mounting panic starts to prickle across his body.

            It’s swallowed up by the bone-deep despair that rushes in a moment later, and Levi digs his fingers into his scalp and closes his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been hoping for an answer, hoping the doctor would be able to stop the attacks or at least reduce the pain. It feels like he’s starving and food is being waved in front of his face, but he can’t reach it. It’s almost worse, knowing that there is a solution, a solution which he can hardly bear to think about, much less go through, much less choose to go through.

            He remembers the last time, years ago now, the hands on his back, screaming for it to stop. Afterwards lying on that hospital bed with Hange next to him, unable to think, scared and asking over and over again to leave. He can’t do it again. He can’t do it again right now, when he already wants to crawl out of his skin most of the time, already wants to just curl up in bed and let himself waste away there most of the time.

            But what is he supposed to do if he doesn’t have the operation? Keep getting attacks more frequently, keep spending hours lying in pain, desperately waiting for it to end? He’s going to run out of painkiller. He can’t afford to keep buying this much, even with Erwin and Hange’s help. It’s too expensive.

            Levi feels his heartrate rise as the utter helplessness of his situation dawns in his mind and across his body. The suffering on both sides of this choice feels insurmountable, horrifying. He can’t possibly go through with the operation, but how long can he really endure things as they are? He already feels so at the end of his rope, so strung out, just barely hanging on.

            “I can’t do this,” Levi says, with his head between his hands, staring down at the floor of the carriage. The words come out very soft, to himself, laced with desperation and pain.

            Hange rubs his back. “You don’t have to do the operation if you don’t want to,” she says.

            But he doesn’t mean the operation, he means the whole situation. He’s going to run out of painkiller. They won’t be able to get more. He’s going to go back to hours of agony. They’ve been getting worse. And he’ll never be able to relax, always waiting for the next one, a spike of panic with every little twinge of his back, wondering if another one is about to hit.

            He already feels like shit, already feels like there’s just no fucking point to anything at all. Every night he goes to sleep he cares less and less if he ever wakes up.

            His fingers curl tighter in his hair, dig into his scalp tighter. His heart beats faster, the blood pounding in his ears. “I can’t do this,” he says again, an echo, bouncing around his mind. I can’t do this, I can’t do this. How is he supposed to keep enduring this, hasn’t he endured enough?

            He’s shaking. His eyes burn. He has the sudden urge to jump out of the carriage, to go where? He has no idea. It feels cramped and small and trapped all of a sudden. “I can’t,” he says, and he doesn’t know what he’s referring to this time. His voice catches in his throat and he’s forced to swallow. His breath hitches.

            “Levi,” Hange says. Her arms wrap around him and he’s caught between leaning into the embrace and pulling away, a frozen reaction because he just doesn’t know what to fucking do. He winds up with his head against her shoulder and his nails biting into her back, eyes shut again. She squeezes him. Her voice is so gentle it’s almost off-putting, unlike her, foreign. But it’s not insincere, like it fits her anyway, like it’s the right shape but off-color. “What is it?” she says.

            “I can’t,” he says again. He feels helpless and desolate and pathetic and terrified all rolled together, tied with a thick rope of desperation.

            “Then we’ll have to figure out what you can,” she says. “We’ll figure out what you can.”

            “I could just fucking die,” he says. It comes blurting out, too loud. There’s an almost sarcastic sheen to it that’s blown away by the absolute fear and misery the words are etched out of. “I could just fucking die, Hange, I could just die,” he says.

            “Well, that’s not what I meant,” Hange says, an almost disgruntled note to it.

            It pushes an abrupt laugh from Levi’s chest, even as he tilts his head down against her shoulder. “I don’t want to do any of it,” he says. I want to die, he thinks. I want to die. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” he says as his throat tightens again.

            “Yeah, you’re not feeling so hot right now,” she says. She rubs his back some more. “You got overwhelmed back there. That’s all.”

            That’s not all, he thinks. Overwhelmed. He’d needed out. That’s all that he could think. That he needed out of that room, away from that man with his wrinkled hands and matter-of-fact tone.

            “We should go out to eat,” Hange says, her voice abruptly excited again, like she’s stumbled upon a brilliant idea. “We’ll pick up Erwin and then go find a restaurant – I bet we can get him to pay for a really fancy one.”

            “No,” Levi says. He doesn’t want to go out. He doesn’t know what he wants.

            “Yes,” Hange says definitively. “You need a distraction. To give it time to sink in. Nothing’s really changed you know, you don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to.”

            You keep saying that, he thinks. He’s not blind to it, that Hange and Erwin keep stressing that it’s his choice, that he gets to decide, that he won’t be forced to do anything. Levi can’t decide which is more annoying – their insistent repetition or the fact that it’s actually working. Levi does take some comfort in the knowledge that he’s in control of at least this aspect of his pain.

            “I don’t want to do this,” he says.

            “You don’t have to.”

            “I have to do something.”

            Any way he takes it, it’s still a choice. A choice to pursue surgery (surgery, he feels nauseas just thinking the word) or a choice to continue as he has. The thought of no improvement to the pain is feeling more unbearable every day, but he can’t help locking up at the thought of some invasive procedure.

            “You don’t have to decide anything now,” she says. “Let’s take a break.”

            “How long would it be?” Levi says.

            He leans back to look at her and Hange blinks at him, looking somewhat startled, and really Levi’s a little startled at his own voice as well. It’s a nagging question, and there are so many nagging questions, and he’s afraid of the answers.

            “The operation?” she says.

            Levi nods.

            “Two to three hours,” she says.

            Levi sucks in a breath. “How much…”  His stomach turns and he’s not sure he wants to know the answer, but the words break out anyway. “How much painkiller would they give me?”

            “More than a vial’s worth,” she says. “They need you still. They don’t want you in pain.”

            Levi swallows. “I’d be…”

            “Very out of it,” Hange says. “People generally stay conscious, but you wouldn’t remember much, if anything, afterwards.”

            Conscious, he’d be conscious. Two to three hours. Levi slides his hands over his face again. What’s the actual surgery? He wants to ask. What is he going to do? Images of knives and surgical tools run through his head. He doesn’t ask the question out loud.

            “What’s the recovery time?” He hears his voice almost outside himself. He starts feeling detached again, like he had when he’d sat down on that bench in the hospital hallway.

            “He said it’s usually four to six weeks, but it depends how much he removes,” Hange says. “You’ve always healed weirdly fast though.”

            “Removes?” Levi says. He feels sick. Removes, removes what?

            “Ah, bone,” Hange says, like she’s just realized that it may not be best to be giving him details right now. “From the vertebrae of your spine.”

            “Bone,” Levi says. “He wants to remove bone?”

            “Uh, yes,” Hange says. “It’s called a laminectomy.”

            “He wants to remove bones from my spine?” Levi says. His voice has shot up and he can’t stop the waves of horror washing over him.

            “Just parts of bone,” Hange says.

            Levi’s heart pounds. He’s walked by medical when they were doing amputations. He remembers the screaming that everyone pretended they couldn’t hear. He’s seen what a bone saw looks like.

            He puts his head in his hands again, fingers once again curling in his hair. “No,” he says. “No, no, no, no.”

            “It’s actually a fascinating procedure,” Hange says, which Levi wants to tell her is so incredibly not helpful. “It’s not as scary as it sounds, I promise, and you won’t feel much pain, even if you did you wouldn’t remember it afterwards.”

            He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No, no.”

            “Okay,” Hange says. “We can talk about it later. You know you don’t have to do the surgery anyway.”

            Levi closes his eyes and digs his fingers into his scalp again.

 

 

            Erwin is surprised, when the carriage rolls up to the inn and Hange waves exuberantly from it, gesturing for Erwin to come out. He’d been waiting impatiently in the front foyer of the inn when he saw the carriage pull up. He walks outside at Hange’s flailing though, and the driver opens the door for him.

            He is unsurprised to see Levi looking a little shell-shocked, eyes wide and on the floor. He sits down a little nervously across from Hange and Levi, looking between them. The carriage starts going.

            “Where are we going?” he says.

            “To lunch,” Hange says. “I think that really nice one with the outdoor patio in downtown.”

            “I see,” Erwin says, though he does not. It doesn’t look at all like Levi’s up to a lunch outing. Erwin’s eyes flick between them. “How did it go?” he says.

            Levi’s eyes close and his head tilts down a little more. Erwin winces and looks up at Hange, who just grimaces a bit.

            “We’re taking a break,” she says.

            “A break?” Erwin says.

            “Yeah,” Levi says. His voice nearly startles Erwin. Levi lets out a long breath, eyes on the floor again.

            “Okay,” Erwin says.

            It takes all of Erwin’s self-restraint not to ask anymore questions about the appointment. He’s dying to know how it went, but he doesn’t ask. He lets Hange talk about the inn they’re staying at and how she’s sure the restaurant will have steak, and how Moblit may have discovered a new species of salamander. Levi says nothing, just keeps a blank look on the floor.

            Which is how they wind up seated outdoors at a restaurant which is much too expensive and which Erwin suspects he will be paying for. Hange peers closely at her menu, while Levi stares dejectedly down at his, the same overwhelmed, blank look on his face.

            It takes until halfway through their main course for Levi to start looking a bit more like himself, for him to start engaging, however shortly, in their conversation. By the time they leave, Erwin is beginning to understand Hange’s insistence on them going for lunch. Levi’s looking a lot less pale at least.

            They go shopping after lunch. Or more accurately, Hange drags them to all manner of stores while Erwin trails after her and Levi reluctantly trudges along. Hange talks enough to make up for any lags in conversation. They spend a good chunk of the afternoon like that, until Levi ultimately declares that he is going back to the inn and Hange is unable to deter him with her pleading. Erwin asks if he wants to go to the bath house or a tea shop, but Levi is adamant about going back to the inn.

 

 

            This time, when they exit the carriage and enter the inn, Erwin stays just one step behind Levi, following closely. The images of the last time they’d done this, the last time Levi came back to their inn from a hospital are fresh in his mind – of how Levi had walked right by him, locked the door to his room, and cut himself, in shock and unseeing.

            This time, Erwin makes sure Levi can’t lock him out of a room, makes sure he can’t get alone. He follows Levi back to their room. Once there, Levi immediately starts collecting clothes and heads for their private bath (Erwin had splurged on this, a room with an adjoining bath, because he knew it would help Levi relax).

            “Can I join you?” Erwin says as Levi disappears into the washroom, going straight for the shower.

            “Go ask Shitty Glasses all your questions,” Levi says, starting the water.

            “Levi, I –”

            “Go, I know you’re dying to,” Levi says.

            “Levi, I really don’t want to leave you alone right now,” Erwin says as Levi starts unbuttoning his shirt.

            “I’m fine,” Levi says. You are most certainly not fine, Erwin thinks. Levi pauses and then looks over at him, fingers still moving over the buttons. “I promise not to do anything stupid, just go talk with Four-Eyes.”

            Erwin hesitates. “Are you sure –”

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Levi says. “So go, Erwin. I want you to talk to Hange alright?”

            “Okay,” Erwin says. His eyes are entreating, and Erwin wonders if what Levi really means is that he wants Erwin to know, but he doesn’t want to have to explain.

            Erwin finally acquiesces, with a promise to be back shortly, and with tea. He finds Hange pacing in her room, her door not even closed. She looks up, then frowns at him. She looks over his shoulder, but of course, Levi is not there.

            “He’s alright. He asked me to speak with you about the appointment.”

            “Mm,” Hange says, the in thought look coming back to her features.

            “How did it go?” Erwin says. He watches Hange anxiously, and Levi was right he has been worrying over it all day really.

            “Well, the good news is the doc thinks he can fix most of Levi’s pain. The bad news is that the fix is a laminectomy,” she says.

            “And a laminectomy is…?” Erwin says.

            “A surgical procedure to remove parts of a vertebrae of the spine.”

            Erwin’s eyes widen a little bit. He’s never heard of such a procedure, and while he does not have a medical background, he’s a little wary of something that he’s never even heard of before.

            “Is that safe?” Erwin says. It certainly does not sound safe.

            “Relatively,” Hange says.

            “Relatively?” Erwin says.

            “There are risks,” Hange says. “Infection being the biggest one. Honestly with Levi I’d say there’s quite a risk that he will overdo it and impede the healing process.”

            “We can speak with him about that,” Erwin says.

            Hange shakes her head. “I’m not saying he’ll begin training too soon, I mean more his insistence on taking baths when he shouldn’t even be walking.”

            Erwin winces.

            “Besides that, it’s possible that the surgery won’t work. It’s possible that it’s not actually a herniated disc or tumor, in which case we’d be slicing him open for nothing.” Erwin winces at her phrasing as well, but Hange keeps right on going. “It’s spinal surgery, so there is always the chance that he could lose functioning in his legs, but that’s a pretty small risk.” She pauses. “Really it’s infection, they’ll need to be very careful to keep the wound clean.”

            “Alright,” Erwin says. “And how did Levi take it?”

            Erwin already knows it hadn’t gone well, not with how Levi had looked afterwards, and he’s bracing himself for Hange’s answer.

            She pauses. “He’s a little hung up on the removing bone part,” she says.

            Erwin sighs. Yes, he can imagine that would be a sticking point.

            “The whole surgery aspect didn’t go over well,” Hange says, grimacing. “He left the room, actually. He only stayed for five or ten minutes. I think it was a bit of a shock when the doc brought up surgery.”

            Erwin wonders if it was really. Levi had to have considered this possibility, hadn’t he? But maybe he hadn’t, maybe he had blocked it out because he found the idea so frightening, or Erwin supposes back surgery is not at all common, and they’d thought it was something wrong with the muscle, not with his spine, so perhaps he had simply not considered it at all.

            “I talked with the doctor after though,” Hange says. “So I have the details. There are some other things he can try as well, some stretches particularly.”

            “He’s tried that,” Erwin says.

            “Not consistently,” Hange says. “I have instructions, some different exercises then were recommended last time, and more regimented. He wants Levi to do them every day, for about an hour.”

            Erwin raises an eyebrow. That sounds like a lot to him, but it’s not like Levi has ever slept as much as he should – he’d have time in the early morning or evening for it.

            “I think he’s pretty worried about how much painkiller he’ll have to take,” Hange says. “But he’s afraid of not having enough too.”

            Erwin nods. They talk the details over a little more, until Erwin’s getting antsy, afraid to leave Levi alone too long. He snags an employee of the inn to get tea, and then he is back at their bedroom. He finds Levi already out of the shower, lying in bed under the blankets. His bare shoulder and the back of his head are visible, and Erwin walks quietly over to place a cup of tea on the bedside table for him. Afterwards, he strips down to his underwear and slides into bed next to Levi. He runs a hand over his shoulder and Levi turns onto his back, looking over at him.

            “Hange tell you he wants to cut pieces of bone out of me?” Levi says.

            Erwin tries not to wince. “She phrased it a bit differently, but yes.”

            Levi stares blankly upwards. “I’d be awake, while they tore pieces of my spine out.”

            “You would be heavily medicated,” Erwin says.

            “So I’ll be confused and awake while they tear pieces of my spine out,” Levi says.

            “It has a sedating effect when used in high quantities,” Erwin says. “It generally makes a person calmer.”

            “Generally,” Levi says.

            It doesn’t bode well for him that small doses make him anxious. It’s not a common reaction, though it doesn’t really surprise Erwin that Levi would be so thrown off by not being able to think clearly.

            “How are you feeling?” Erwin says.

            Levi seems to almost hold his breath for a moment. “Shitty,” he says. It comes out soft.

            “I know today was a lot to take in,” Erwin says.

            “A lot to take in,” he says.

            “What can I do?” Erwin says. Levi shrugs. “I brought some tea,” Erwin says. When Levi doesn’t move, Erwin sighs and moves his hand over Levi’s shoulder, the one farther from Erwin. “What are you thinking, Levi?”

            Levi’s face pinches. “I’m thinking this is really fucking shitty,” he says.

            “What’s bothering you most?” Erwin says.

            Levi presses his hands over his face. “I dunno, Erwin, I feel like shit. I’ve felt like shit for weeks. I’m going to keep feeling like shit for weeks – months.”

            “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. He runs his hand down Levi’s arm. Levi takes a couple of heavy breaths, hands still pressed to his face, before lowering them again. His eyes are almost glassy. “I bought you some more painkiller,” Erwin says. “More this time. So at least you won’t have to worry about running out.”

            Levi looks sharply over at him, frowning. “How much money did you spend? Erwin, I don’t want you to –”

            “It wasn’t my money,” Erwin says. “I’ve secured a special donation. The Survey Corps will pay for whatever medical treatment you need.”

            Levi’s eyes widen a little bit. “What? What special donation?”

            “You don’t need to worry about the money,” Erwin says.

            “Come off it, Erwin, where the fuck are you getting that kind of money? And why are you spending it on me?”

            “Spending it on you was a strict stipulation of getting the money in the first place,” Erwin says. “So never mind about it.”

            Levi’s eyes narrow. “Erwin,” he says.

            Erwin sighs. “Lord Meyer,” he says.

            Levi frowns at him. He’s met Lord Meyer – he is particularly overzealous and held great interest in Levi, as Humanity’s Strongest, which Levi found incredibly annoying. The last time they encountered each other, Erwin had kicked Levi under the table and sent a series of looks at him as Levi teetered precariously close to losing his temper with the Lord.

            “And what is he getting out of this?” Levi says. He knows Lord Meyer has a fascination with him, but Levi still doesn’t think he’d do anything just out of the kindness of his heart – he wasn’t a huge donator to the Survey Corps, despite his interest in Levi himself.

            “Don’t worry about that now,” Erwin says. “It just means we’ll be able to pay for your medical supplies, and any treatment you need.”

            “We don’t have hardly any painkiller in medical,” Levi says. He knows because, in a fit of desperation during an attack of pain, he’d asked Hange if they had any at all to spare. They did not. “You should use the money to stock medical,” Levi says. He’s disappointed by the thought, but he knows they need it more.

            “Lord Meyer stipulated that the money be used for you only,” Erwin says. “He didn’t give a lump sum, we have to submit expense reports to him and he will fulfill them.” Erwin pauses. “That is not to say I won’t be siphoning some out to cover medical supplies for the rest of the troops. I have to apologize to you Levi, because it is all meant to go to you, but –”

            “Don’t apologize,” Levi says. “I want you to. Even if I didn’t, it’s your job.” Levi turns towards him, onto his side, though he doesn’t meet his eyes, once again focuses somewhere on Erwin’s chest, eyes distant for a moment. He swallows. “Does that mean… how much exactly did you get?”

            “Enough,” Erwin says. “I don’t know how long Lord Meyer’s charity will continue for, but I’ll be stocking up on as much as possible until it runs dry.”

            “I could take a dose of a half vial?” Levi says. “Instead of a quarter?”

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            Levi lets out a long breath. He clenches his hands. “Hange said… there were some other things I could do, besides an operation.”

            “Yes,” Erwin says. “There are some other things you can try.”

            “But…” Levi says. He clenches his teeth. “My back is fucked, right? I mean there’s a specific thing in my spine that’s broken or messed up, and they can fix it.” So I should let them fix it, Levi thinks, but the words won’t come out of his mouth. It makes him feel sick even thinking it.

            And if he has more painkiller now… but it’s still awful, still horrible, and it’s started happening so frequently. The nagging thought that he is going to become a liability, that if an attack hits him again while outside the walls – really it’s a when and not an if – then he’s putting not only himself but everyone else in danger as well. Levi lets out a long breath.

            “You don’t have to decide now, Levi,” Erwin says. “You can change your mind at any time.”

            “I don’t want to,” Levi says without looking at him, head down, tucked in, voice quiet and strained. He grips at Erwin’s arm. “I don’t want to.”

            “I know,” Erwin says softly. His fingers run over the back of Levi’s neck.

 

 

Notes:

Thank you to everyone for the continued support! I love reading your comments so much and hope you are all enjoying the story. More story to come, hopefully soon!

Also, I would love your thoughts on Levi and Erwin's relationship and how it's growing now that they finally are together - I feel like I put so much time and thought into the slow burn aspect that I didn't think much about, well, after they got together. So please let me know!

Happy reading :)

Chapter 22: Time

Summary:

In which Levi commits to stretching and Erwin is worried. Hange, somehow, is the patient one.

 

 

            They table the prospect of back surgery. Erwin tries to gently bring it up on multiple occasions, if just to have a conversation and to help Levi process his thoughts, but Levi tenses and shuts down as soon as he does. Hange shows Levi a leaflet with the set of stretches he needs to do, and he starts completing them each morning before breakfast.

            Erwin wakes up in the morning two weeks after they get back from Mitras to the quiet rustling of Levi working through the stretching routine. He has a blanket laid out on the floor of the room, lying on his back while pulling one knee up towards his chest. He looks over at Erwin when Erwin sits up.

            “You going to stare at me the whole time I finish?” Levi says after a moment.

            Erwin smiles. “I do enjoy watching you.”

            Levi makes a face at him and Erwin can’t help the laugh that comes out of his chest. Levi releases the hold on his leg only to bring his opposite knee up, this time with his foot crossing over his other leg.

            “Do you think it’s helping?” Erwin says.

            Levi lets out a breath. “A little,” he says, “hurts less during the day. Helps to do them again if it gets bad.” Erwin’s seen him do this too a couple of times, to run through some stretches again later in the day if he’s experiencing pain. “Have to see if it actually helps with the attacks,” Levi says.

            “It’s been three weeks since the last one,” Erwin says. “That’s a pretty good sign.”

            “Two and a half,” Levi says. He switches back to the other leg.

            “Try to be optimistic,” Erwin says.

            Levi grunts. “Hange said it can take a while,” he says, “before it really starts helping.”

            “Yes,” Erwin says. She’d also said it would be best for Levi to drastically cut down on the amount of training he did, but Levi had vehemently refused that idea. The most Erwin could get out of him was a promise not to overdo it and to take a break when his back started hurting.

            Erwin watches as Levi runs through his next set of stretches. His mood seems to have improved at least a bit over the last two weeks, once the initial shock of the prospect of surgery passed, and he settled into waiting to see if the stretching helped. Despite Levi’s reservations, Erwin is feeling optimistic.

 

 

            By five a.m. the following morning, Erwin is no longer feeling so optimistic.

            Five a.m. the following morning finds Erwin scrambling to get a needle and the vial of painkiller while Levi claws at the sheets and clenches his teeth so tightly Erwin’s afraid they might crack.

            “Do you want –” Erwin starts.

            “Half,” Levi says. “Half.”

            So Erwin fills the syringe with half a vial of painkiller instead of the normal quarter and injects it.

            Levi’s gasping slows. Erwin watches as his muscles relax and untense. His breathing remains heavy though. His eyes go glassy. When Erwin touches his shoulder, Levi reaches to grab the material of his shirt in a loose fist, then tugs at it. Erwin lies down at Levi’s side, propping himself up with one arm and then carding his fingers through Levi’s hair with his other hand.

            Levi’s turned towards him, eyes open but scrunched, mouth open too with his panting, lying flat on his back. He grips Erwin’s wrist loosely in one hand, and curls his fingers in the sheets with the other.

            “Don’t go,” Levi says.

            “I’m not going anywhere,” Erwin says.

            Erwin cards his fingers through Levi’s hair as Levi slowly relaxes some more. His eyes close and the scrunch of his facial features around them eases a bit, until Erwin can almost miss the tension still there.

            “Feel so fucked up like this,” Levi says without opening his eyes, his voice breathy and almost slurred.

            “You’re fine,” Erwin says. “You don’t need to be on alert. I’m here. You’re safe.”

            “Can’t fucking think,” Levi says. He opens his eyes for a second, and they’re glassy and wide. “Can barely fucking see, everything’s spinning.”

            “Is it so different from alcohol?” Erwin says. He’s never seen Levi get anxious about the debilitating effects of getting drunk. Then again, Levi rarely drinks enough to get drunk.

            “Yes,” Levi says, closing his eyes again. His nose scrunches. “No.” He lets out a breath. “I don’t fucking know, feels shitty.”

            “Maybe it’s just because you’re in pain,” Erwin says. Perhaps it triggered something, the pain serving as an alarm bell, telling Levi that something was wrong.

            Levi squeezes Erwin’s hand. “Read to me?” he says.

            “Of course,” Erwin says.

            Erwin reads for an hour. Retrieves some water. Reads for another half hour. Retrieves more water. Another half hour and Levi’s starting to fidget, face scrunching up again, breathing elevated. Erwin keeps one hand on Levi, cycles through touching his hair, his shoulder, his hand. He has it on Levi’s shoulder, eyes down on the book in his hands, when he feels Levi’s fingers wrap around his wrist and squeeze. He pauses reading to look over.

            Levi’s teeth are clenched. A noise of pain comes up his throat. He squeezes Erwin’s wrist again.

            Erwin puts the book down to reach over. His own hand slides against Levi’s fingers and Levi releases his wrist to grab at his hand instead.

            “I’ll get more,” Erwin says. “Half again?”

            Levi hesitates, but ultimately nods. His fingers curl even tighter around Erwin’s hand. Erwin leans down to kiss his forehead, which is damp with sweat.

            “You have to let go, darling,” Erwin says. “I need to get your medicine.”

            Levi lets go with what looks like some effort. He opens his eyes and this time they are clouded with pain instead of the drugged openness the medication incites. Erwin quickly gets the vial and fills the syringe with what remains in it.

            Erwin reads aloud until his voice goes raspy. Mike comes knocking at his door at one point, and Levi opens his eyes just to give him a panicked, desperate look. Erwin reassures Levi that he won’t leave, and speaks only briefly with Mike, telling him he’ll be disposed until later.

            Erwin watches Levi for signs that the attack is ending, but Levi stays tense with pain etched across his features. Erwin watches the time tick by, growing more worried himself the longer it goes on. Two hours after Erwin gave Levi the second dose, Levi’s face is still scrunched in discomfort, fingers clenched. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. “Do you need more again?”

            Levi lets out a breath, and then shakes his head.

            “Are you sure?” Erwin says. “We have more. You can have more.”

            Levi shakes his head. “Already used an entire fucking vial. On just one attack. Don’t care how much Meyer’s giving you, can’t waste more.”

            “It’s not a waste,” Erwin says. Levi winces and sucks in a breath at what appears to be another wave of pain. Levi groans. “Levi, you’re still in pain,” Erwin says. “You can have some more medication.”

            But Levi shakes his head. Stubborn, Erwin thinks. “It’s fine,” Levi says. The hardness behind the words is lost in the fact that he has to grit his teeth just to say it. “It’s ending,” he gets out.

            It’s six hours after the attack started when Erwin starts getting anxious.

            Levi’s still curled up on the bed next to him, breathing still elevated, eyes still squeezed shut. The medication has long since worn off. He’s clearly not in as much pain as he was at the start of everything, but it’s not ending like they usually do. He hasn’t moved at all. Erwin knows he’s awake, but he’s been very still.

            “How are you feeling?” Erwin says.

            Levi grunts in response.

            “Do you think you could get up and try some of your stretches?” Erwin says.

            Levi groans.

            It doesn’t seem to be ending, at least not fully. Levi’s never had an attack last so long. Erwin knows it’s subsided in the last couple hours, but it’s still painful enough that Levi hasn’t moved from his curled up position.

            “It may make you feel better,” Erwin says. Levi had said they helped ease the pain when it cropped up between attacks. Perhaps it would help now as well.

            Levi shakes his head. “It has to stop soon,” he says. A drop of sweat falls from his nose, and Erwin watches another slide down his temple. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and there are telltale stains where his shirt is sticking to his back as well. Erwin runs a hand down Levi’s arm and finds it damp and clammy. It’s almost noon now. It’s astonishing really, the physical toll that pain can take on a person, Erwin thinks.

            “Do you want to try a bath?” he says.

            Levi shakes his head again. “Hurts too much,” he says into the pillow.

            Erwin can do nothing but sit there. He keeps eyeing the clock and then eyeing Levi, looking increasingly desperately for some sign that it’s getting less painful. He gets none. He starts thinking about getting Hange, about bringing a doctor from medical here and how he might possibly coerce Levi into cooperating with that.

            At almost precisely noon, there is a sharp, raucous knocking on Erwin’s door. Erwin opens it to find Hange. She peers behind him as soon as he opens the door, her eyes falling on Levi, and then she quickly sidesteps Erwin and jumps onto the bed. Levi groans.

            “Levi, I’ve been looking for you,” she says. Despite her overenthusiastic jumping, she’s gentle when she touches his head. “Heard you weren’t feeling so great.”

            “Mm,” Levi says.

            Hange turns back to Erwin. “I’m here to relieve you of Levi-duty,” she says. “Mike said he needs to speak with you, and Klaus is fretting about something with the horses again.”

            Erwin walks back to the bed where Hange is now sitting up against the headboard, in more or less the spot Erwin was in, one hand cupped against the back of Levi’s head. “It started at five,” Erwin says.

            “What started at five?” she says. She looks between Erwin and Levi and then her eyes widen. “The attack? At five, five a.m.?”

            “Yes, five-fucking a.m., would it kill you to be a little quieter, Shitty Glasses?” Levi says. His voice is a groan, quieter than usual, somewhat muffled by the pillow under his head.

            “Five a.m.,” Hange repeats, quieter this time, brow furrowing. She strokes Levi’s hair absently while still looking at Erwin. “That’s seven hours ago.”

            “He took two half-vial doses, the last one around seven thirty. He said it had gotten better, but it’s been like this for hours now.”

            “Hm,” Hange says. “Hey Grumpy.” She gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Can you give me a pain rating? Say, when you first hurt your back, when you smashed through that wall and broke your collarbone and all that – let’s call that a ten. And a papercut is a one. What are you at now?”

            “Dunno,” Levi says. “A six?”

            If this is a six, what had a ten felt like? Erwin thinks, his stomach turning.

            “And what about earlier?”

            “Dunno, Hange, stop making me talk,” Levi says. It comes out all in one breath, exhausted, his eyes still shut. Hange rubs his shoulder and Erwin walks around to sit down on the side of the bed, placing a hand on Levi’s ankle where it lies next to him. 

            “Just a couple more questions, I promise,” she says. “What was the pain before you had gotten the medication?”

            “A nine? Maybe an eight?” Levi says. “Real fucking bad but it was getting worse, could’ve been worse.”

            Hange nods. She’s pulled a small notepad and pen out of somewhere and is jotting it down now. “And after you got the medication?”

            “Six.”

            “So it’s about the same, now as when you had the medication?”

            “Mm,” Levi says.

            “Is it any better than an hour ago?” Hange says. “The same? Worse?”

            “Same,” Levi says.

            “Hm,” Hange says. She taps the pencil against her chin for a second and then it disappears inside a pocket along with the notebook. She claps her hands together. “It is our lucky day, Shorty, we get to test a hypothesis.”

            “Will you please shut up,” Levi says.

            Erwin grimaces. He watches Hange with some trepidation. She tends to get easily caught up in things when experiments are involved, and while usually Levi has a surprising amount of patience for Hange’s antics, Erwin would bet that it will be entirely lacking today.

            Though really, Erwin shouldn’t have worried, he thinks when her demeanor almost instantly goes more subdued again. She has always been good at switching tactics quickly, and this is no different. Erwin thinks it’s one of the reasons Hange and Levi get on so well, that she goes from manic to serious and back again in a moment.

            “I prescribe stretching and relaxation. You’re so damn tense Levi, it’s no wonder you’re still in pain,” Hange says.

            “I’m tense because it hurts,” Levi says, teeth gritted.

            “Erwin, can you grab another dose, a quarter vial?” Hange says. “And where is that leaflet I gave you?”

            “I don’t want any more painkiller,” Levi says.

            “You’ll want it in a minute once I get you doing these stretches,” Hange says. She combs Levi’s hair back with her fingers again and her voice drops lower. “Just a quarter dose,” she says. “We have plenty, and it’s just me and Erwin here. You don’t have to force your way through it like this.”

            Erwin gets up to get the painkiller. He grabs the leaflet of stretches Hange was asking about as well. When Levi makes no other protest, Erwin fills the syringe with the quarter dose and hands it to Hange. Levi flinches when she injects it, but relaxes half a minute later, his breathing going deep for the first time all day.

            It takes some coercing to get Levi off the bed and on the ground, over the blanket he’s been using for his morning stretches. He’s uncooperative, though Erwin can hardly blame him. Levi moves slowly, every movement accompanied by a wince. Hange gets on the floor with him while Erwin sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to leave but he also doesn’t know how to be helpful at the moment.

            Levi gets through the first couple stretches without too much complaint. With the medication he’s able to move, if barely. All he wants to do is curl back up on the bed, but he also wants to break out of this never-ending attack, and Hange seems to think this will do it, so he’s giving it a shot.

            He gets through five minutes of it before he finds himself lying on his back with his eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched, having to pause at the building pain, let it settle back down to something more manageable.

            After fifteen minutes he’s covered in sweat and grinding his teeth and he knows he needs to do this, he knows it’s to help with the pain, but he’s so fucking miserable, barely able to think over the harsh, searing spikes across his back. Erwin has asked him twice now if he wants more painkiller but he keeps shaking his head. It has to end soon, it has to end soon, he keeps thinking, as he forces his body to move into the positions Hange directs. He’s getting more fed up the longer it goes on, starting to snap at her as the pain drags on.

            “Now just flip over onto your stomach,” Hange says.

            Levi shakes his head. He knows which stretch Hange is thinking of. “That one’s gonna hurt,” he says. It had hurt enough when he’d just tried getting out of bed, he knows this stretch is going to push his tolerance.

            “Just try for me,” Hange says. “You only need to hold it for a few seconds.”

            “No,” Levi says. He’s on his back, eyes closed because he keeps getting dizzy, knees up and one hand resting over his chest. He takes in a deep breath against the pain. Even that sends twinges down his spine. He grinds his teeth.

            “I know the pain is worst in your lower back,” she says, and Levi doesn’t want to hear the explanation – he knows what it’s going to be. “I think it’ll help, even if it hurts more for a few seconds. Why don’t –”

            “No,” Levi says.

            “Just try one, and if it’s too much –”

            “I said no,” Levi says.

            Hange touches the back of his hand, gentle. “Okay, we’ll –”

            “Fuck off, Hange,” Levi says, tearing his hand away.

            It comes out loud, with a venom that is sincere, a tone Levi hasn’t spoken to Hange with in probably years, and Levi’s left panting in the silence. Fuck, he thinks. His eyes start burning and Levi brings both his hands up to cover his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Fuck, he thinks again. He thinks of all the times he’s told Hange to go to hell or to fuck off and how it’s never sounded like that, how he doesn’t recognize his own voice, filled with sudden anger and hate.

            He breathes. He hears shifting, and presses his hands against his skull harder. A second later a hand comes down on his shoulder and starts rubbing. Levi swallows.

            There’s nothing but the soothing repetition of the hand going up and down his arm and Levi’s breaths in his ears, the pain in the background, as Levi slowly relaxes his muscles and lets his hands rest down at his side and over his stomach again.

            “I’m sorry,” Levi says, quietly, and without opening his eyes.

            “Forgiven,” Hange says, and only then does Levi let his eyes flicker open, squinting at the light for just a second. He sees Hange’s face, devoid of either anger or pity or hurt, just like her voice, and something in his chest unwinds. She squeezes his shoulder. “Tell me when you need a break. You can have as many as you need.”

            The stretching, mercifully, grows less painful. It happens slowly, and Levi’s focused on his movements enough that he almost doesn’t notice how he’s starting to untense, how the pain is easing. By the time a half hour has passed, he’s feeling more relaxed and the pain has dropped. It’s still very present, but Levi no longer feels like he’s going to get dizzy just standing up.

            Erwin changes the sheets on the bed while Levi works through the stretches with Hange. Afterwards, Levi takes a quick shower and dresses in clean clothes, happy to get the sweat and grime off of him. Erwin mentions a bath, but Levi just really wants to lie flat again. Once he’s out of the shower and settled back on the bed, Erwin hovers by the foot of the bed, looking almost awkward with an uncharacteristic swirl of uncertainty, hesitation, and indecision in his eyes.

            “Go,” Levi says. When Erwin still pauses, opening his mouth, Levi waves a hand. “I’m alright. Go.”

            Erwin walks towards the bed, leans down, and kisses him on the forehead. Levi’s sure his eyes nearly bug out of his head, the pain momentarily forgotten in his shock. Erwin has never shown any overt displays of affection towards him while other people are present, never mind kiss him.

            Erwin grins at the look on his face. “I’ll be back,” he says.

            Hange is just starting to squeal and screech something about them being “so fucking adorable” as Levi scowls at Erwin’s back. Erwin looks back over his shoulder just to give Levi a sly smile before shutting the door, making a quick escape from Hange’s squawking and leaving Levi solely to deal with her antics. Levi makes a mental note to kick Erwin for this when he comes back.

 

 

            A month and a half after they went to see the doctor in Mitras, Erwin sets a meeting with Hange, in the middle of the day, while Levi is busy with his squad.

            “I’m going to send a letter and ask that they allow you to be in the operating room during the surgery,” Erwin says.

            Hange doesn’t look surprised. She just sits in the chair across from Erwin, where he sits at his desk, and rests her elbow on the armrest, her hand propping her head up. “They won’t agree,” she says, “I’ll get in touch with my professor. He has some sway at the hospital.”

            Erwin nods. He has a copy of Hange’s notes that she took during Levi’s appointment. “I’ll have you stay with him for the full two weeks,” Erwin says. And then he hesitates. “I don’t think that I’ll be able to.” He can’t find a two week period on his calendar anytime soon where he will not have some business he must attend here. He’s not sure he’s been away from their headquarters for so long the entire time he has been commander. Despite the guilt clawing at his stomach, he just doesn’t think it will be possible. “I will try to schedule things so that I can be there the full first week, when he’s still in the hospital,” he says.

            “He heals fast,” Hange says. “I’m hoping for three to five days.”

            Her notes had said a week in the hospital, and then another week he must stay in Mitras. But she is correct in that Levi has always healed astoundingly quickly. He’ll need a follow-up appointment at the hospital after two weeks though, and even if they could arrange for a Survey Corps doctor to see him instead, he can’t be taking such long carriage rides before the two weeks are up. Or perhaps shorter, if Hange is optimistic about his recovery.

            “Do you think the two week stay could be shortened as well then?” Erwin says.

            “Maybe,” she says. “I wouldn’t bet on it though. The trip back is going to be rough either way, it wouldn’t hurt to just wait the full two weeks. We should probably split it to two days instead of doing it all at once.”

            Erwin makes a note to enquire about an inn approximately halfway between the Survey Corps and Mitras. She’d written down four to six weeks for recovery, but Erwin looks up at her. “And when do you think he’ll be able to resume training?” he says.

            “Hard to say, depends on how the surgery goes,” she says. “Light conditioning? My guess is three weeks, maybe four. ODM? At least six.”

            “Three weeks?” Erwin says. It seems terribly early, especially considering the first two weeks he couldn’t even leave Mitras.”

            “You remember when he got buried under a building, when Wall Maria fell and he first hurt his spine, with a broken collarbone, broken ribs, and a metal pole impaled in his side?” she says. “He was walking in six days, Erwin. No one gets up from that kind of damage and is walking in six days.”

            Erwin remembers. It feels so long ago now, over four years ago. He remembers nearly having a heart attack when someone informed him that his Captain had walked out of his room in medical to take a bath. He’d been unconscious for the entirety of the first two days.

            “When I pulled him from that wreckage, I thought he was dead,” Hange says. “If it weren’t for his back he could have been back to training in under a month.”

            “I suppose you’re right,” Erwin says. Still, three weeks seems so short.

            Hange braces her elbows against the armrests of the chair and leans forward. “So have you actually talked to Levi about any of this?”

            “No,” Erwin says.

            Once again, Hange does not look surprised. “Are you scheduling it already?” she says though, frowning. “You need to give him some more time.”

            And Erwin hates that she’s right. He hates the insinuation behind her words. Levi says his pain is better on a day to day basis with the stretching, but the attacks themselves are getting more frequent and longer. It’s wearing him down, and if it continues at this rate then eventually he’s simply not going to be reliable outside the walls.

            It’s become a waiting game. Erwin knows this needs to end in surgery, and he knows that Levi must realize this as well. It’s painful to watch.

            And in the back of his mind, Erwin is worried. More than worried. In the back of his mind, he is afraid that Levi is simply not going to come to terms with this, will not be able to accept this. Hange seems to think that they just need to wait it out, wait until Levi’s ready, until he finally accepts the need for surgery and decides to pursue it. Erwin is afraid that he won’t be able to make that decision.

            Hange watches him, and then her eyes widen. She sits up straight. “You’re not actually going to try to force him, are you? Because the only reason he even saw the doctor in the first place was because we drilled it into his head that it was his choice –”

            “No,” Erwin says, rubbing a hand over his face.

He can’t imagine trying to force Levi there. He doesn’t even know how he would do that. If he ordered it, on pretense of Levi not being able to fight with his back injury, would Levi obey it? He’s not so sure, and even if Levi did, Erwin is certain it would deal huge damage to their relationship, both personal and professional – he can’t imagine the amount of resentment, distrust, and betrayal Levi would have towards him if Erwin ordered him to go through with something he was so thoroughly terrified of, after previously telling him it was completely his choice. Even if Levi ultimately forgave him, Erwin’s sure Levi wouldn’t be able to trust him the same way again, even if he wanted to.

            “I’m just…” Erwin says. He opens and closes his mouth again. “I’m just worried.”

            There’s a pause. When Erwin looks up, Hange is staring closely at him expectantly, unusually quiet. It’s still a serious expression, but it’s open now, questioning.

            “Have you noticed that Levi…” Erwin says. He can’t seem to find the right words. They won’t come. Or he doesn’t want to say it. Erwin swallows. “That Levi can get a bit… morbid, at times?”

            Hange’s eyebrows raise. “What, Levi? Morbid? Oh no, definitely not,” she says with mock sincerity.

            Erwin sighs. “No, I don’t mean –” But then he stops, because he was going to say that he didn’t mean Levi’s sense of humor, but Levi does hide it under facetiousness and sarcasm. He remembers then, what he’d said to Levi, that night at the inn, while they’d had their fight.

            Half the time you talk about suicide like you’re commenting on the weather and the other half it seems like you view it as some divine fantasy. On the occasions that Levi has mentioned death or suicide, his attitude is almost always blasé, wrapped up in snide remarks and dark humor. But there have been a few times where his demeanor is suddenly different, like the whole thing has reversed course, and it is so strange and so remarkably frightening, how he can talk about suicide like something he longs for.

            It’s always only snatches. Erwin remembers the night Artur and Dorcia died, Artur having allowed himself to be eaten by a titan after watching his sister die. Erwin will never forget that haunted, glassy look Levi had. He will never forget the pain and that strangled desperation on his face. Why do we do this? he’d said, and Erwin couldn’t tell if he was talking about living or dying.

            “Well, you know that he hurts himself,” Erwin says.

            Hange frowns, expression serious again. “I saw some bandages on his wrist. Has that been getting bad again?

            Erwin rubs a hand over his face again. “No, or… well, I suppose yes, but nothing overly serious, the wounds I mean, as far as I know.” He can’t imagine Levi would have gone to medical to get stitches, and Erwin doesn’t think he’d let them go unstitched either, not after experiencing an infected wound once already, so Erwin thinks he or Hange would know if Levi had cut himself badly enough to need them. “But,” Erwin says, “I meant more… generally, that Levi hurts himself, that he becomes… self-destructive.”

            “Erwin,” Hange says, “what are you trying to say?”

            Erwin sighs. “I suppose I’m just worried about him.” He’s not sure what makes him stop, what that nagging little warning feeling is in his head. He normally doesn’t keep things about Levi from Hange, as she is also his good friend and generally has good insight. He hesitates now though.

            It won’t do any good for them both to corner him and interrogate him about his mental state – perhaps that’s it. Perhaps it’s just that Erwin doesn’t even know exactly what he’s asking. They’ve never talked about it directly, and Erwin should probably speak with Levi himself first – yes, he needs to talk to Levi first. Erwin’s avoided it thus far because he’s afraid to push Levi on the topic, had decided a long time ago to wait until Levi brought it up on his own. But Erwin can’t ignore how miserable things have been lately, how much he’s started to worry. I will try to bring it up, Erwin thinks. It feels too delicate. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to bring it up, afraid to hear what Levi says.

            “Hm,” Hange says, nodding. “On second thought, schedule the surgery. Once he finally does come ‘round it’ll be best to get it over with as soon as possible.”

            That was Erwin’s thought as well. Levi would drive himself mad with the anticipation if they put it off for too long. As soon as Levi did come to the conclusion that he needed surgery, Erwin wanted everything in place. At the moment, Lord Meyer was being very generous with his funding, so Erwin would spare no expense. He had already written a couple of letters informing him of Levi’s improvement, while stressing that he would still need much more medical attention. It’s a delicate balance, but Erwin is going to string that financial support along for as long as he possibly can.

            “Has he talked to you about it at all?” Erwin says. He allows himself to hope for a moment that maybe Levi had started asking Hange a few questions. He can see that, how Levi might begin some careful, hypothetical thinking on the topic, getting some more details without committing to anything, even in his head.

            “No,” she says. Erwin deflates. “He needs more time,” she says again. Her expression changes the next second, both hands coming down onto his desk with a loud clap. “Cheer up!” Hange says. “Look on the bright side – once he has surgery he might never have an attack again.”

            “Yes,” Erwin says, smiling despite the background voice in his head going, if. If he gets surgery. Erwin takes a long breath. “Yes, that would be a very welcome improvement.”

 

 

Notes:

I cut this chapter in half so there should be more soon :)

Chapter 23: Phantom

Summary:

Things hit a tipping point.

Notes:

*Major trigger warning, please review the tags

 

 

            Levi knows that Erwin keeps most of the painkiller in a safe in his room. There are two vials in his office. Another two in Levi’s room. Hange has a couple stored in her office as well.

            Levi still feels guilty about using up so much of it, no matter how many times Erwin reminds him that they are only getting it at all because Meyer was willing to pay for it specifically for him, no matter that Erwin has stocked up medical with several vials as well, diverted from Levi’s store.

            But Levi also can’t help using it. His stomach fills with dread when he thinks about running out, when he thinks about how Meyer’s charity will eventually run dry and Levi will have to rely on his own money again. He tries to conserve as much as possible, tries not to use more than he absolutely needs. Levi can’t tell at this point if the attacks are really getting more painful, or if he’s building a tolerance to the medication, or if it’s just that he’s so tired of the pain, but they get more difficult to deal with. With every attack it gets more tempting to use more medication, especially when they’re long ones. He can endure it for a couple of hours, but the longer it drags on the more he wants a higher dose.

            He tries not to think about it. He tries to keep busy. He completes his stretches with ritualistic, disciplined consistency. He finds himself taking comfort in that, and is surprised that he also finds the practice relaxing. He wakes up before Erwin, before the sun has risen, and quietly goes through his routine, all of the stretches long since memorized. At first he starts stretching in the afternoon or evening if his back has been hurting during the day, and at some point that morphs to a consistent pattern as well – he completes the routine a second time directly after dinner.

            Hange had told him that it could take a while to start working. Levi keeps telling himself that, as he keeps getting attacks, as they increase in frequency, duration, and pain. It reminds him disconcertingly of when he first hurt it, when he’d get bouts of pain nearly every day, before it slowly tapered off and became less frequent. Except this time it is taking the opposite route, and things just keep getting worse.

            He tries not to think about it. He tries to stay busy. When the inevitable creeping panic and desperation bubbles up in his throat, because it’s not getting better, it’s getting worse, and the images of the hospital room and the doctor’s wrinkled hands plays like a broken kaleidoscope in his head, he stomps it down. It becomes a kind of mantra in his head, Hange said the stretches take time to work, I have painkiller anyway, it’s not that bad, it’s sure to get better, I just need more time for it to work, I don’t need surgery, I don’t have to go there, it just needs more time to work, it’ll get better, it’ll get better, it’s sure to get better.

             He does his stretches. He takes only as much painkiller as he needs. He repeats the same lines, over and over in his head. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. It just needs a bit more time to work.

            A month and a half after their trip to Mitras, he has an attack that starts up in the middle of the night, then spends the rest of the day in his and Erwin’s (he’s started to think of it as his and Erwin’s) room with the aching remnants of pain that just won’t leave. He feels better the next morning, and his morning stretches wrings the last of it from his body.

            Marlene generally takes charge of standard drills, but she is ill and after confirming that he was feeling well enough, Erwin asked Levi to take over for the day. Levi begrudgingly complies. He doesn’t consider himself a good instructor and half the recruits are afraid of him and the other half in awe of him, both of which he finds frustrating for different reasons. He likes to stick with just training his squad, who can handle the more advanced drills and techniques he usually goes through.

            Levi supervises some of the basic drills and finds himself watching intently. Because he’s not normally with the rest of the soldiers, he finds that he’s a little out of touch with the rest of the squads. It’s been a few months now since Artur and Dorcia died, and with everything going on he hadn’t thought much about adding to his squad. As he watches with growing interest, he realizes that perhaps he should have.

            Well, no time like the present.

            “You,” Levi says, pointing to a young woman who he’s found his eyes going back to throughout the training. Her eyes widen. She salutes.

            “Yes, Captain,” she says.

            “Over there,” Levi says, gesturing back and to the side, where his own squad is. His eyes scan through the recruits. He picks out two more soldiers who are a bit more experienced, men he had been considering for his squad when he first picked them, but whom ultimately he’d passed over. They’ve improved since then. He goes from there, separating out a few more who he’s observed are above the rest.

            Levi appoints a couple of team leaders to supervise the rest of the training. Erwin will probably frown at him for “shirking responsibility,” but there’s no one to stop him right now. He takes his own squad with him to operate the fake titans when he brings his group to a different location.

            He watches as they attempt to kill the titan, which is placed in a more difficult space then the normal forest ones. There’s just one tree next to this one. Levi watches closely, both to assess their fighting and to be ready to intervene should someone fall. The group has potential, though none of them are quite ready to join his squad as they are now.

            After they run through it a couple times, Levi takes a position in front of the fake titan to demonstrate a different type of approach. The soldiers have so far been using a standard swing around the one tree to slash the nape. The technique he goes to show them instead involves grappling onto one of the titan’s arms, overshooting it, and then grappling diagonally to the tree while cutting the nape. He switches both his grips to forward facing, something he rarely does outside the walls now, but he needs to do so to demonstrate it, and then takes off.

            He shoots up, Gunther raises the titan’s arm the way that a real titan might move, and Levi releases his hook, sails over the outstretched arm, then shoots a second hook to the tree. It causes an abrupt pull on his body with the jarring change in direction. He braces against it, as he has done thousands of times, letting his wire pull him sideways. At the same time, he twists his arms back, ready to cut the nape.

            There is a single split-second moment that he feels the stretch, something off, and it’s an intuitive feeling, like the hair raising on the back of his neck – for a split second, he knows that something is wrong.

And then a tearing pain slices up his spine.

            His vision whites out, eyes flung wide, and he screams. The next two seconds are a mishmash of dark spots in his eyes, leaves, the whirl of a wire and gas canister. He’s able to duck and avoid crashing straight into the tree, but only barely. He botches the landing. A sharp pain shoots through his ankle and he goes down hard on his right side, rolling a few times. He hears shouting amid the splitting pain across his back. He gasps and his body convulses. He makes a choking noise, lying on his side, the shock of adrenaline still buzzing through his body, the pain sharp enough and sudden enough that it’s accompanied by a bolt of panic.

            There’s more yelling, and then a hand on his shoulder. His eyes are wide, unseeing.

            “Roll him on his back, Petra, clear them out.”

            Levi’s ears ring. His body moves and suddenly he’s staring upwards, sees the blue of the sky, a face that’s spotting in and out – then two faces.

            “ – well go back to the base and figure it out, Oluo!”

            “Captain, you with us?”

            Levi shuts his eyes. His hands scrabble at the ground, dirt under his fingernails. He gasps, then grits his teeth together, grinds them together for one long, horrible moment as a wave of pain goes through him. Then he opens his mouth and screams, guttural and agonized.

            “Fuck, what –”

            “Easy, Levi.”

            Another scream chokes in his throat. He kicks at the ground and it sends shockwaves up his spine. He heaves in air and feels it stick in his throat.

            “Breathe, Captain.”

            “Should we –”

            Levi screams, can’t stop screaming, can’t stop moving, pain searing across his spine, down through his hip to his leg, radiating in shooting, lightening spurts of agony. His fist hits the ground. His jaw clenches so hard it sparks a sharp pain across his teeth. His elbow lands jarringly on the ground and it sends a tingling up through his wrist.

            “Easy, Levi, easy.”

            “Should we get him a bite?”

            Levi feels hands on his arms, pressing down. He opens his eyes, can barely see, recognizes Eld but only vaguely, only for a second, spotting in and out between the sound of Levi’s sharp breaths. His hands shoot up and he clutches at Eld’s wrist, where he’s holding down Levi’s upper right arm. Levi’s fingers dig into Eld’s wrist through his uniform jacket, tightening. He sees Eld’s eyes, focuses on them for a single beat.

 

           

            He wakes up looking at sky with a jolt through his body. The pain sticks a moment later, enough that he grits his teeth reflexively, eyes closing again. The strange unsteadiness hits him, and he opens his eyes again to turn his head, see the earth moving. He struggles for a moment before he realizes that he’s on a stretcher, being carried.

            He turns his head to the other side, makes a noise of pain and squeezes his eyes shut again. Every step moves him, every step is a jolt – he sees the boxes in the wagon, a belt between his teeth, he remembers the wagon he’d laid down in when he got the attack outside the walls, how agonizing it had been with the bumps under him, and he feels a sudden wave of nausea.

            “Stop,” he chokes out. It does not stop.

            Someone moves into his field of vision though, and then a touch on his head. “Hey, you awake there, Grumpy?”

            He recognizes her voice. “Hange,” he says.

            Where is he? He’s outside. What happened? He struggles to remember – the fake titan, a wire, pain. He reaches for Hange’s wrist. His fingers wrap loosely around it and then slide to her hand, where she grips him back.

            “Stop,” he says.

            “We have to get you inside, we’re almost there, Shorty.”

            “No,” he says. A new searing stripe rings up his back with every uneven step. He’s dizzy. He’s going to puke. “Hange,” he says, “Hange, stop.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “Stop.”

            They stop. Levi pants. He’s lowered, and then his back touches down, until the stretcher’s flat on the ground. The sharp throbs of pain ease just a bit. He pants.

            “We really gotta get you inside to a bed, Shorty,” Hange says softly. “I’m gonna give you a little more medicine, okay?”

            Levi shakes his head, tries to shake his head. He’s had medicine already? How much did she give him? He can’t think, he’s confused, doesn’t know where he is. He already can’t think.

            “Wait,” he says.

            There’s a prick at his arm. His vision spins. A wash of warmth, and then he goes boneless. The pain is a swimming thing, a slew of mud – uncomfortable and unignorable, but not sharp. He’s picked up again. The steps are deep resonance, each one a little shockwave to his spine. His grip goes slack, but Hange keeps holding his hand anyway. His mouth is open, eyes open, trying to see. Reality is fractured and languid at the same time. A buzzing instability that is somehow fluid, dripping over him.

            He wants to be set down. He can’t speak. His fingers and toes are pins and needles. “Hange.” The name is garbled, he can’t make his tongue work.

            “I’m right here,” she says. He can’t see her. He barely feels her hand. “We’re gonna get you someplace you can lie down.”

            He doesn’t notice when they enter a building. He only notices when he’s set down on something. His head flops to the side. Walls, a door. He nearly screams when they lift him from the stretcher, get him on the bed. And then he stares at the ceiling, the world swimming, the world turning to mud.

            “How you doin’ there, Sport?” Hange says.

            Levi squeezes her hand.

            He lies there floating for a while. Hange talks but it’s hard to hang onto the words, so he stops trying. Lets the noise buzz. He squeezes her hand at intervals – it feels like a jolt each time – he’s forgotten her hand is there at all, and when he realizes again he squeezes. Eventually the pain starts simmering into focus again – the world starts simmering into focus. It’s a relief and a dread all at once. When he starts clenching his teeth, starts moving again, starts tensing up, Hange asks him if he wants more painkiller.

            “No,” he says.

            “Are you sure?”

            “Yes.”

            He holds out for a bit longer, long enough for his head to clear, the pain to start its searing paths again.

            “Levi, can I give you some more now?”

            Levi gasps, holds back, then relents. “A quarter,” he says. “Only a quarter.”

            She gives him a quarter. The pain softens a bit, but not much. His vision blacks out on the edges.

 

 

            When Levi wakes up the second time, he finds Hange sitting at the desk writing something. Sitting at his deck – he’s in his room, he only realizes then – his private room that is, not Erwin’s. He still keeps much of his things there and comes to use the desk sometimes. He shifts experimentally. His back aches but the attack is over. He lets out a long breath, finds an unstable anxiety lurking under his skin. He tries to sit up, winces, tries again.

            “Levi,” Hange says, perking up as Levi manages to settle himself against the headboard. He still feels disoriented, and he’s exhausted.

            “Don’t give me that much again,” Levi says.

            Hange’s expression falls in surprise. It morphs to a careful reticence.

            Levi’s hands shake a bit. He finds a glass of water waiting for him on the bedside table. He’s a bit dizzy still. “Don’t give me that much again,” he says.

            “Okay,” she says, turning in the chair, frowning. “I’m sorry, Levi. You were in a lot of pain and we needed to get you inside.”

            He lets out a shaky breath. He wants to cover himself in blankets. He wants to go back to his and Erwin’s room. He feels off-balance, disturbed. He has to take some deep breaths. He has to remind himself to take some deep breaths. When he’s a bit more composed he looks up again.

            “How long was I?” he says.

            Hange looks at a watch on her wrist. “I think it’s been about five hours.”

            Levi inhales. He runs a hand through his hair. “Five hours,” he says. It’s late afternoon now then. He looks out the window, can see that the sun isn’t at full height anymore. “How much did you give me?” he says.

            “Earlier?” she says. “I gave you a half dose, and then when you woke up while we were carrying you here, I gave you another quarter. Another quarter after that when it started wearing off.”

            “Three quarters,” Levi says, staring down, thinking of the hazy swimming mud. “That was only three quarters?”

            His stomach turns. That was only three quarters. The thought comes unbidden in a sick arching twist, they’ll give you more than that for surgery.

            “Levi?”

            He only realizes how badly his hands are shaking when he looks up to find Hange standing in front of him now. He swallows hard, twists his hands in the blankets. She sits down on the side of his bed.

            “Don’t give me that much again,” he says. His voice starts to shake. His hands won’t stop shaking. He feels sick.

            “Okay,” she says. “Okay, I won’t, Levi.” She places a hand on his leg, over the blankets.

            Levi’s throat closes up and he swallows again, then puts his head down in his hands, runs them through his hair. “Fuck,” he says, eyes closed. He takes a deep breath, he tries to untense, he wills his hands to stop shaking.

            Like mud. Like sinking in mud.

            His breath hitches. His fingers curl in his hair.

            “Levi,” she says. Levi looks up. Her expression is serious. “I won’t give you that much again. Breathe deeply.”

            Levi takes deep breaths. His body calms slowly. Hange corners some soldier in the hall and bullies them into fetching tea. Levi sips his and takes comfort in the warmth under his hands.

            “It’s almost time for dinner,” she says afterwards.

            “I’m not hungry,” he says, “I’ll go back to Erwin’s room.”

            He doesn’t try to hide it, and he’s really not up for Hange’s teasing, so he’s grateful when she makes no comment. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll let him know to bring you back something.”

            It’s a compromise, and Levi is able to recognize it for what it is. “Sure,” he says.

            They leave his bedroom together, and he watches Hange turn down the hallway with a last goodbye, headed for the mess hall. And Levi doesn’t go back to Erwin’s room. Instead he goes outside.

            The sun is setting. It’s almost dusk. The sunset bright in the background behind him, he walks outside. His feet move, and he walks by other soldiers without seeing them. He finds himself in front of the fake titan, the one next to the lone tree, where he’d hurt himself earlier.

            There’s no one around now, everyone gone inside to eat. He’s far enough out – no one around to see him. He sits down on the ground in front of the titan. The sun fades, the sky goes a deep blue. He looks upwards and watches stars start to appear in the sky.

            He remembers the tear in bright lights. Remembers it like a fire through his body. Everything jarred into sharp relief, pain like lightening, cracked apart.

            Cracking apart. He can feel his own heartbeat, slow, like mud. Cracking apart.

            He flips out a switchblade. His fingers curve on the handle, and it’s muscle memory, a distinct and ingrained urge. He holds it in the darkening light, still plenty enough light to see by. He shifts his grip, points it down. He draws a line across his palm.

            Nothing. He feels nothing. Red blood beads up in the mark. It reminds him of when he’d cut Erwin’s palm, that day. Of course, that was a much deeper wound, a much more serious wound. Levi sees the scar all the time, thick and unmistakable. He’s never apologized for it.

            He draws a second line, his palm again, below his thumb this time, but he doesn’t feel it. He remembers what he said, after Artur died, the last time he cut his palm, remembers Erwin’s voice.

            “It doesn’t hurt.”

            “It will later.”

            Will it?

            He needs to go inside. There is a dim, washed out part of himself that knows he needs to go inside. The voice in his mind sounds a hell of a lot like Furlan.

            He draws one more line with the knife, just to be sure. The blood feels like water, detached, inconsequential. It’ll evaporate just fine. Erwin will be upset with him if he sees it. He’ll be upset in his not upset way – where he says nothing, just looks with darkening disappointment – that expression that manages to look like guilt without guilt present, that shows a helplessness Levi can’t stand to look at, that holds a mirror up to his own face with colors too bright, painful.

            It would stop.

            Wrinkled hands. Hange in the carriage. You don’t have to. He hadn’t even done anything complex earlier, hadn’t done anything overly taxing, hadn’t made a mistake, hadn’t overdone anything – it was a simple move, a stupid fucking simple move that somehow pulled just right – it would have killed him outside the walls. With a real titan it would have killed him. Would be over that way. Would it be so terrible?

            “Are you afraid of being eaten by a titan?”

            “No.”

            He can see it. Enormous pain, hands around him, the smell, the teeth up close, a slimy tongue. He wonders what it would feel like to give up, to just let it happen. Artur, with his blades not drawn. Levi sees his eyes. Levi has never given up, he has always fought to the last second, and what would it be like, to give up?

            No, that’s not right. Six years old, sitting on the floor, the smell, the dimness, a hollowed stomach going numb. She’s dead. To give up, to give in. It’s a foggy memory, buried deep, how he would have let himself die there in filth and starvation.

            “Do you think it’s worse to die in terror?” Erwin said.

            “You’re still dead either way,” Levi said.

            “People always wish for a peaceful death.”

            “Of course they do. No one wants to experience terror or suffering or pain, whether it’s before death or not.”

            Terror and suffering and pain.

            Levi sits on the ground as the sun fades from the horizon, looking forward at the fake titan. A mockery. You need to go inside. It sounds like Furlan.

            Levi’s bones ache. He sinks. Mud. He wonders when exactly he started drowning in it. What are you saying, he thinks. You were fucking born in it. Born in mud. Born to rot. Humanity’s Strongest. What a fucking joke.

            If he’d died when he was fifteen, if Furlan hadn’t followed him, if he’d hung himself like he meant to, then they never would have joined the survey corps. Then they might still be alive. He’d never have met Erwin. Never met Hange. A lifetime erased. And their lives?

            Levi presses his hands to his head, digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and grits his teeth, chokes back a scream, a sudden energy through his body, uncontrollable. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair – he doesn’t care, he’s never cared, so why does he live? He’s watched so many people die, so many of his teammates die, and he’s never cared, he’s never fucking cared if he’s lived or died so why hasn’t he fucking died? Why is he alive when there are so many people who wished for life they didn’t get?

            “Fuck.”

            His breath is harsh, rings in his ears. How many soldiers joined because of me? Humanity’s Strongest – he went to the fundraisers, went to the recruitment tours, how many people joined because of him, how many people died because of him?

            I want to die. His back burns but he doesn’t feel the cuts on his palm. He looks up at the fake titan.

            I could do it, he thinks, like ice water over him. He could do it right now. He could do it right now.

            It’s almost ten years since he took that rope out in the underground. Now, it could be over right now. He could shoot himself up to the top of that tree and let himself fall, he could use his blades to cut deep, he could go to the stables or the supplies shed and find another rope. He remembers how to tie it. It could be over today, it could be over in another ten minutes. He could do it now, before he thinks about it more, before anyone can stop him. Furlan’s not here this time. No one’s here this time. He should have done it ten years ago, so why not today?

            Levi looks down at his hands. He’s curled them, fingernails digging in, and he finds his left hand smeared with blood from his nails digging into the cuts. His breathing is harsh, throat tight, body tensed. His back hurts. A simple move, twisting his arms back, if it happened outside the walls, would one of his squad try to save him before he fell? Save him when the titan came for him? Would they die for him, because he couldn’t execute a simple kill?

            You can’t do this. It’ll happen outside the walls. It’s winter so there haven’t been any expeditions yet, but there will be, and with every week that passes it seems they just come closer together – he’ll get one at some point, get an attack beyond the walls, and sooner rather than later it’s going to hit while he’s moving, while he’s engaging a titan, and then he will die, and he may very well kill others while he does it.

            You can’t do this. Levi reaches up, hands through his hair, fingers digging into his scalp, looking at the ground and panting. He just had an attack yesterday, fucking yesterday. Two days in a row. He can’t keep doing this, and really, anyone else would be discharged, he knows it, he knows Erwin knows it, Hange knows it. It’s your choice. It’s not really. It never really was.

            It could be over right now, I could end it right now.

            And the thought has an enormous relief flooding through his veins, so enormous that it’s sickening. It’s a visceral longing, a visceral desire vibrating under his skin. He’s nauseas with it. It could end. He wouldn’t have to decide, he wouldn’t have to go through with a surgery he finds horrifying, unbearable, wouldn’t have to keep waiting for pain, wouldn’t have to take medicine that stole his thoughts from him, wouldn’t have to endanger the people around him, wouldn’t have to do this any longer.

            He wants to be done. He wants to die. I can’t do this, he thinks. He can’t endure any more, he can’t keep doing this. A sick sharp horror cuts through him even thinking about surgery, a wash of nausea – she’d only given him three quarters and he felt like he was dying, like he was untethered, going to float into oblivion. He can’t get the feeling of hands on his back out of his head, begging for it to stop, the pain overwhelming, it was all overwhelming, it’s always overwhelming, he can’t do this.

            Levi stands up. His limbs feel numb. It could end. He takes two steps forward, and it’s dizzy. He can’t feel the cuts on his palm. The back pain is suddenly gone. Right now, right here, it could be over.

            He stops again, looks up at the titan. There’s a rushing noise, like zipping through the air. His heart in his chest, beating too hard, lungs pushing shallow, fast breaths. My choice. Because the surgery’s not, it’s a lie, it’s not, but this – he can take it all back. It can end, it can end, he can end it – he wants it, he wants to be done, he wants this to end, he wants it all to stop, he wants to die, he’s wanted it for so fucking long.

            He stares at the titan, and the image slashes, flesh and blood for a second. He remembers Artur. Blades not drawn. Why do we do this? he’d asked Erwin. Why do I do this? Why keep doing this?

            He stands there, looking at the titan, shaking. His body’s gone cold, numb. He doesn’t have his gear on, but it would take fifteen minutes to go back to the gear shed and get some. There’s rope attached to the titan’s arms and side, used to pull it, make it move. He looks down. He’d dropped his switchblade in the dirt. He bends down, the world slides, he picks up the knife.

            It’s automatic, unconscious, like watching his body move, the way he pulls off his jacket, the actions stiff. He rolls up his sleeves. Pale skin, paler scars. A blade. Fitting. He takes a deep, shaky breath, and the hiss of it, the noise, surprises him.

            Over, over, it’ll be over.

            He stands like that, knife poised over his wrist, for what feels like a very long time, as his mind blanks out, buzzes.

            Furlan’s eyes. You need to go inside.

            (“Big bro.”)

            Furlan tearing the rope out of his hands, shoving him to the ground. Furlan screaming at him. Levi screaming back, before he broke suddenly and unexpectantly into sobs. Furlan with a tight grip on his arm all the way back. He nearly used that rope to tie Levi to a chair when they reached their apartment. Isabel standing in the doorway to her bedroom while they yelled at each other until tears welled up in her eyes and she turned around so they wouldn’t see her cry.

            (“I’m thinking about the rope.”

            “Let’s have a drink.”)

            Levi sucks in a breath, it feels like water, thick. He closes his eyes and presses his hands to his head, the blade still in one hand. He curls over, grits his teeth, a noise comes out that feels straight from his chest.

            I want it to be over, I just want it to be over. He tears at his hair, grinds his teeth. His eyes burn. He can’t breathe. He still remembers their faces, etched clearly – he doesn’t remember his mother’s face anymore, not really.

I just wanna fucking die, alright? Why the hell should I want to keep struggling in this shit life in this shit city inside this shit world? He’d yelled it at Furlan.

            You’ll feel better in the morning. Everything’ll be okay again tomorrow. Isabel.

            Levi feels the handle of the switchblade under his fingers. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. “I can’t,” he says, to himself, in the silent, still air, and yet he barely hears it, ears ringing. “I can’t,” he says, “I can’t, I can’t, I fucking can’t.” He can’t keep doing this.

            (Hange’s eyes, soft, in the carriage. “Then we’ll have to figure out what you can. We’ll figure out what you can.”)

            “I can’t,” he says. His voice cracks.

            Just do it. Just do it then. Just fucking do it.

            (The slide of a hand on his shoulder. “What can I do to help?”)

            “Fuck,” Levi says. His fingers bare down against his skull. Knife in his right hand, he moves forward all at once, slams his left fist into the wooden base of the titan. Splinters fly. He does it again. A third time. He feels nothing. “Fuck,” he says, “fuck.” He drops his hand, leans against the structure instead, arm braced against it, head against his wrist. He squeezes his eyes shut and his throat tightens. “I don’t wanna do this anymore, I can’t do this anymore,” he says into his arm, with his breath hitching, and he doesn’t hear himself.

            (“I could just fucking die, Hange, I could just die.”)

            He moves his arms so they frame his head, and bangs his forehead down against it. “I can’t.” A plea.

            (Soft warmth, Erwin’s voice, then gentle fingers in his hair as his eyes shut. “That feels nice.”)

            He bangs his head against the wood.

            You need to go inside.

            “Fuck,” he says.

 

 

            It’s luck, that Erwin is already back in their bedroom. Luck that he’s not in the mess hall or in his office, because Levi’s not sure what he’d do if he wasn’t there, not sure he could keep what little handle he had on himself long enough to go search him out elsewhere.

            Levi throws the door open and Erwin turns around, hands on the buckles of his half-undone gear straps. There’s a split second that Levi catches the open blue of Erwin’s eyes, familiar recognition, but it’s erased in a heartbeat, replaced with striking alarm and shock. The moment hangs, and Levi takes in every bit of that expression, from the frozen tension of his facial muscles to the lips parted and stuck still to the wide, scared eyes. There’s adrenaline somewhere mixed in, a recognition of danger, while shock drains the color from his skin.

            It’s a single beat, just a single beat for Levi to read it all on his face. Erwin has always worn masks, so there is something horrific about it, something horribly misplaced, hideous, the uncovered, open clarity of this look. And it’s this look on Erwin’s face that snaps that last thread, that has Levi abruptly splintering to pieces.

            Levi’s two steps forward when Erwin meets him and Levi grabs at his arms, fingers digging in, and presses his forehead to Erwin’s chest. He feels Erwin’s arms around him fast, pressed to his back, around his sides. It wracks up his chest, breaks from his lungs, the noise that comes from his mouth, and it’s just pain, it hurts, the sobs are tearing, vicious things.

            “Levi, wha – Levi.”

            Levi’s hands tighten, he leans harder against Erwin, his body shakes, he hides his face because his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth clenched but lips pulled back, the horrible wracking noises he lets out with heaving sobs, strained, like something dying.

            His weight drops. He tears at Erwin. He hears Erwin’s sharp inhale, a gasp, right before they stumble down. Both their knees hit the floor hard. “Levi,” Erwin says, “Levi.”

            His hands wrap tighter around Levi’s back. One hand goes to the back of his head, pulling him forward. Levi tucks his head in sharply at Erwin’s shoulder and screams through his teeth.

            “Levi,” Erwin says again, like he doesn’t know what to say, lost, shocked, but then his fingers push through Levi’s hair at the back of his head and he pulls tighter with his other arm, pulling Levi up, closer. “It’s okay,” Erwin says, “it’s okay.”

            It’s not, It’s not. Levi’s eyes squeeze shut. He fists the fabric of Erwin’s shirt, over his arms. His jaw clenches, shoulders and back tensing in a strained hold. His hands shake and he tugs at Erwin’s shirt, feels the fabric start to rip.

            “I can’t do it,” he says, jaw unclenching to gasp, drowning on air, his voice tattered, broken and cracking. “I can’t do it.” Panic seizes over him in shudders and spasms. “I can’t fucking do it, I don’t want to do it, I can’t do this.” It sputters and bubbles and it’s a riptide, a surge. He can’t tell where the panic ends and his desperation begins, where that sharp hurting under his ribs is coming from, if it’s the fear or the hopelessness. It’s too much.

            He wants to be done, he just wants to be done, he wants it to all stop.

            Why do we do this?

            It feels like he could burst from his body, like his body cannot possibly contain him, not with the rage and pain and desperation swarming under his skin – it’s sure to break out in blood. Levi gasps, chokes out a snarling noise, tears smearing across his skin, nose dripping. He feels the rough fabric of Erwin’s shirt against his forehead, Erwin’s hand at the back of his head. His body is buzzing, everything unstable and almost numb, like he’s about to pass out. He’s lightheaded. Passing out doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe his heart will stop right then.

            “Erwin,” he says. He can’t get it into words, the horrible mess in his chest, the mess that’s been following him around for nearly all his life, that horrible clawing riptide that’s built a home inside him without his consent, and it’s the first time really, that he’s ever wanted to put it into words. There’s a hollowness at its center, no matter that it’s trying to rip him to pieces right now, swallow him whole right now.

            “I’m with you,” Erwin says.

            I can’t do this anymore. Levi’s done. He’s done, he’s at his limit. Years of the underground, years of fighting titans, years of watching everyone around him die. The relief is a promise, a yearning he can’t look in the eyes or he’s done for. I could say goodbye. Give Erwin the goodbye that he never got, mama, Farlan, Isabel. Levi breathes in, focuses on the smell of Erwin’s shirt, and there’s a prickle at the back of his neck, calluses on his skin. Erwin’s pulled him forward so that Levi’s straddling his thighs, both of them more or less kneeling. He hadn’t left a note, when he was fifteen. He’d barely been able to write, but even if he had, he hadn’t know what to say. A mix of guilt and pain and he had wanted to apologize, had wanted to tell them to take care of each other, wanted to tell Isabel he loved her and tell Farlan he wished things were different. That he couldn’t believe in their dream, but he hoped they found it anyway.

            That guiding light of Farlan’s – the dream to make it to the surface. It was never Levi’s. He could never feel it the way Farlan did. Maybe that’s why he wound up tying a noose in the underground. Hopeless, dreamless, a phantom.

            “Levi,” Erwin says. His hand curls around Levi’s shoulder, gently pulls him away and suddenly Levi is looking at Erwin’s eyes, up close. His breath hitches. “Levi,” Erwin says, fingers brushing over Levi’s temple. He feels them card his hair back. Erwin’s eyes flick across his face, searching. “What’s happened?” Erwin says.

            Levi’s lips curl and he’s stuck on the sudden depth of Erwin’s eyes. He’s struck numb. “You will never forgive me,” Levi says.

            Erwin’s frown tightens but his fingers are gentle, smooth, and Levi looks down. He blinks and tears slide down from the corners of his eyes.

            “I think I could forgive you most anything,” Erwin says.

            Could you forgive me for dying? Could you forgive me for leaving you? For giving up on humanity? Would you ever forgive yourself? Levi shuts his eyes tightly again, curls his fingers, head tilted down.

            “Levi,” Erwin says, “tell me what’s wrong.”

            Levi’s eyes shut tighter. His teeth grit. He’s been here too many times, and he wonders if it would be easier now, if he’d gave in any of those other times, if he had opened his mouth (coward) with that little voice in his head. What’s wrong? There’s nothing right. To put words, the sharp tearing in his chest that makes air into shards of glass, that carves at his insides until he can’t recognize himself apart from the suffering that shreds at him.

            “I want to kill myself,” he says.

            There’s a beat, and Levi feels Erwin’s breath stop at the same moment as his own tears down his throat. “I want to kill myself, I don’t want to do this anymore, I want to fucking die, I just want to die.”

            The arms are tight around him again and Levi feels Erwin’s chin against his head.

            “I want to die,” Levi says. His breath hitches on a sob. “I want it to end.” A wave of exhaustion thrums through his body, an avalanche. He’s so tired. He’s so fucking tired.

            “Levi,” Erwin breathes. Levi feels Erwin’s fingers slide through his hair.

            “I don’t know what to do,” Levi says, and he no longer cares, the sound of his own words almost surprising him, like breaking straight from his chest. “I don’t know what to fucking do –” It chokes out of him. “My back – the surgery – I can’t, Erwin, I’d rather die. But,” he says and he has to suck in a breath, dizzy, “but I can’t keep fucking doing this either, it’s just getting worse. Two – two attacks in two fucking days, two fucking days, I can’t keep doing this.”

            Levi hears his own ragged breathing and nothing else for several moments. He waits for Erwin to say something, but he doesn’t. Levi squeezes his eyes shut again. Because there’s nothing to say. Levi wants him to say something, wants desperately for Erwin to pull some idea out of his head that Levi hadn’t thought of, something to make this better, some option he hadn’t considered, some miracle solution.

            But Erwin says nothing, and Levi’s eyes burn, chest aches, throat tightens. Should have done it, Levi thinks, a part of him thinks. Why didn’t he? He could have, only twenty minutes ago, he could have killed himself. He could have been done with this.

            Why didn’t I? He still could. Later tonight, tomorrow, in a week, a month. He remembers leaving their apartment in the underground, remembers the numb, roiling kind of shakiness, paradoxically moving almost as if in a daze and yet deeply agitated, a horrible kind of adrenaline under his skin. His thoughts felt both separate from himself and manic in their desperation. A clamoring white noise, blinding. He’d been thinking about it for days that time, thinking seriously about how and when. Is that why he’d gone to Erwin this time, instead of just doing it?

            No, not really – it’s been in the back of his head for months now anyway. Then why? It seems suddenly an incredibly pressing question – why not, why didn’t he, you should have. Acidic.

            He could tell himself it’s because of Erwin, because he has Erwin, because he’d gone to Erwin, but he knows that’s not really true. He’d loved Furlan and Isabel no less and he’d still gone knowing they would be there for him, knowing they’d help him if he let them, knowing how much he’d hurt them by dying.

            Suffocating, the underground was suffocating, suffering around every corner, starvation and attack always hanging over them, hanging over everyone. He hadn’t thought they’d ever make it aboveground, not really. And what was the point of living like that? What was the point of that life?

            Levi opens his eyes. The room is dim, candlelight. Erwin’s face, waiting for him, when he opens his eyes, right in front of him, clear despite the lighting. Levi looks to his eyes. He can just almost make out his own face reflected in them.

            He remembers Isabel’s decapitated head. The image haunts him, fills his nightmares, mirrored over his surroundings during the daytime too for years after. Farlan’s broken body. The blade digging into Erwin’s palm, that rush of agonizing rage and grief, that crack-line choice, violence or self-destruction, and Erwin, unflinching, grabbing his blade. Did I kill them? Did you? The sharpness in his eyes – a startling, breathtaking clarity. A clarity he couldn’t have dreamed of underground, a clarity, a tenacity and resolve he couldn’t have touched, that he still can’t really touch, can only reach for.

            He’s dedicated his life to reaching for it, knowing he’ll never touch it. He hasn’t pledged his life to the survey corps, hasn’t pledged his life to humanity. He’d pledged it to Erwin, to follow him and his dream. And somewhere it became his own anyway.

            It feels like drowning. Like that last moment of hanging onto air, unwilling to breathe in the water. Purgatory, Levi thinks. Stuck between, because it doesn’t make the pain any less, doesn’t make the prospect of living any more bearable, doesn’t make the idea of surgery seem less horrifyingly impossible, doesn’t make the prospect of continuing without surgery more endurable – but he’s stuck anyway.

            I can’t do this. But he can’t not. Where does that leave him?

            (It leaves him sitting on the floor with Erwin, because he wants to die, and yet some inexplicable part of him has taken himself here instead. Because he wants to die, and he keeps seeing Isabel’s face and Furlan’s eyes, and he wants to feel Erwin’s arms around him, and his heart beats against his ribs.)

            I can’t, Levi thinks. And what had Erwin said, a couple months ago now, when they’d lay in bed, and it had popped into Levi’s head suddenly and without context.

           “Do you think we’ll actually retake Maria?” Levi said.

           “What I think doesn’t matter,” Erwin said. “It’s what we must do.”

            Levi looks at Erwin. It’s desperation. I can’t, he thinks.

            (But you must.)

            (He doesn’t, not really. But somehow he’s there anyway. Not dead, gone inside instead. Found Erwin. He could have done it. He didn’t.)

            “It will be okay,” Erwin says.

            His voice is jarring, clear and real, breaking through fog. It’s shaky though, almost awkward, a little desperate.

            “It will be okay,” Erwin says again, stronger this time. Levi feels Erwin’s fingers against his face again. “You’ll be okay,” Erwin says. He breathes in sharply and Levi feels it against his chest and hears the rush of air. “I’m sorry,” Erwin says. “I’m so sorry, darling.” Erwin swallows. Levi watches his throat bob. “Tell me what I can do to help,” Erwin says. His thumb moves across Levi’s cheek, gentle, sliding against water and salt.

            “I don’t know,” Levi says. His voice still cracks, rough.

            “It’s okay,” Erwin says again. “I’m here with you. Tell me what you need.”

            “I need a way out,” Levi says. A numb, painful laugh gets stuck in his throat like an afterthought. “I need – I don’t know, Erwin, I don’t know why I’m here.”

            He doesn’t know what he thought Erwin could do. Just that he’d wanted him, and he didn’t know what the fuck else to do, didn’t know where the fuck else to go.

            “This will end, Levi,” Erwin says. His speech is halting, and Levi could almost find it funny, could almost tease him for it, because his speech is never like this, because he never sounds this unsure. “I know you’ve been having such a hard time lately, and you’ve felt miserable, but it won’t always be like this. It will get better. I promise, Levi, you’ll feel better. It won’t stay like this. It will be okay.”

            I don’t believe you, Levi thinks. (You’ll feel better in the morning, big bro.)

            Levi lowers his forehead back to Erwin’s shoulder. He sniffs. Allows himself another couple tears. His shoulders shake. Erwin rubs a hand across his back. “It’s okay,” Erwin says.

            It’s another couple minutes, and Levi’s exhausted. His breathing steadies. He stops shaking. He focuses on that hand across his back, he zeros in on the feeling. He needs something to grab onto, and he’s not killing himself tonight, so he grabs onto the feeling. His body slowly relaxes, slowly calms, and a muddled fog takes over his head, like he’s shutting down. It’s not a good feeling, but it’s not frenzied, and it’s not quite so painful. Not sharp, at least. He lets himself fall, lets his body calm.

            “How about a bath?” Erwin says eventually, when Levi’s gone still against him. “Just for tonight.”

            Levi is silent for another moment, and it seems to take a moment anyway, to process. He nods against Erwin.

            Erwin runs the water and Levi undresses slowly. Erwin helps him with the buttons of his shirt. He takes a bath. Erwin washes his hair. He cleans the cuts on Levi’s palm and the bloody knuckles from where he’d punched the base of the titan, before bandaging them. Erwin swoops in with sleep clothes afterwards, pressed to his hands before Levi can think to ask. Levi starts shivering. He’s very cold. Erwin wraps around him, pulls them under the blankets in bed. Levi grips his shirtsleeve. Like a child, he thinks, but he doesn’t let go.

            Erwin kisses his forehead, then his cheek, and then the corner of his lips. Levi doesn’t respond, and Erwin pulls back. He pulls his fingers through Levi’s damp hair over and over, a little too quickly. And Levi remembers that he’d told Erwin he liked that, that it made him feel better.

            “Thank you,” Erwin says, lying in bed. Levi answers with a questioning look. For what? he thinks, and Erwin must understand, because he says, “For coming. I know… it must have been… I mean, I know you’re having a terrible time and – thank you, Levi, for telling me. I –,” Erwin takes a deep breath, a pause. His voice is earnest, sincere. “I’m here for you, I’ll always be here for you.”

            “I know,” Levi says. He presses close until his nose bumps Erwin’s neck. Erwin’s hand slides over his back with a long breath. Levi takes a breath as well. “I know, Erwin.”

            “Try to sleep,” Erwin says. “I think sleep will help. A bit anyway. We’ll figure things out in the morning. I promise, Levi. It will be okay. Believe me, please.”

            Trust me, it’s written underneath. And Levi wants to say he does, because he does trust him, really, but it’s hard, when it feels so counterintuitive, when he aches so badly.

            He presses closer and his teeth clench again for a moment. “I’m trying,” he says.

            Erwin kisses his temple. “That’s enough for me,” he says.

 

Notes:

I probably could have kept editing this for another month but honestly this was much more draining to write than I expected. I was really excited for this chapter, and I still am, but damn Levi is having a hard time.

So I hope it wasn't too rambly (I meant for it to be much shorter) and I would really love your thoughts on this one. (I love all your thoughts on every chapter and everything, but this one is very important to me and is meant to be very important to the story, so I hope it came across the way I intended.)

Also, once again I hope everyone is doing well out there :)

Chapter 24: Decisions

Summary:

Moving forward.

 

            Erwin doesn’t sleep that night.

            He dozes on and off, but wakes with a jerk whenever Levi so much as twitches next to him or there is the slightest sound. Levi is a restless sleeper. Every time Erwin opens his eyes he immediately reaches out, turns towards Levi, a stab of panic that is only there for a second, before he confirms that Levi is still right next to him. He’s afraid that he’s going to wake and Levi will be gone.

            Levi sleeps. Which is very good, and also very strange. He had certainly looked exhausted, and Erwin knows from Hange that he’d had an attack earlier that day, and those always make him tired, but Erwin had been worried Levi simply wouldn’t be able to sleep all night, not with how upset he was. But Levi sleeps. He tosses and turns and keeps shifting around, but he sleeps almost the whole night.

            When Levi wakes up, the sun’s not up yet but it’s around the time Levi normally wakes. Erwin is already awake. He’s been staring at the ceiling and idly rubbing a thumb over Levi’s wrist for a while now. Erwin knows Levi’s waking up because he can hear his breathing, and he catches Levi’s eyes briefly fluttering open before closing again. But Levi doesn’t move for another twenty minutes or so.

            A tense anxiety wraps its way around Erwin’s ribs, but he stays still, waits until Levi starts shifting and his eyes open again.

            “Good morning," Erwin says. “How are you feeling?”

            Levi blinks. He shrugs. His eyes still look just the slightest bit red, even now, from crying the night before.

            Erwin has never seen Levi cry outside of when he’s in great physical pain. He’s never seen Levi cry out of emotion, but even to call it crying seems wholly unfitting. Erwin doesn’t know what to call it, the way he’d torn at Erwin’s arms and clenched his teeth and how deep, anguished noises seemed to tear through his whole body on their way to his throat.

            They stay lying there for another several minutes, because Erwin doesn’t know what else to say, and Levi seems to have no intention of either moving or talking. Erwin doesn’t think he’s ever felt so horribly inadequate in his life, searching desperately and blindly for the right words, for how to help. As much as he tries, he finds himself unable to put aside his own emotions too – he knows that Levi needs him calm and steady and supportive, that this is not the time, but all last night and now too he has just been on a constant loop from anxiety to pain to guilt and back around.

             How had he let it get this bad? How had he not done something sooner, how had he not noticed just how terribly Levi was doing? And now what – what was he going to do? How could he help? He keeps seeing Levi’s face when he first walked in, keeps hearing his voice, with all its anguish and desperation, as he told Erwin he wanted to die. It was indescribably painful to hear him say that, to hear just how much pain Levi was in, to see so clearly how much pain he’d been dealing with. And Erwin is terrified that Levi is going to go through with it. He feels nauseous at the thought.

            Levi slips out from under his arm in bed. Erwin watches tensely until Levi gathers his blanket from a cabinet, spreading it on the floor for his morning stretches.

            Erwin tries to think of something to say. Anything to say. He’s had all damn night to think up something, and still he just finds himself floundering, watching Levi mutely, the silence stretching.

            “Go,” Levi says, and Erwin nearly jolts at the noise. Levi has his arms braced behind him, sitting up. His expression is blank, neutral. After a moment he waves vaguely in the direction of the washroom. “Get dressed,” Levi says. “I’m not going anywhere.”

            Erwin moves his legs over, stands from the bed. He hesitates. Levi watches him, and there’s almost something wary slipping into his eyes. Erwin opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens again. “I’ll be right out,” he says. And that is not at all what he wants to say. His movements are jerky as he starts to walk towards the washroom. He pauses. “Is there anything you need right now?” he says.

            Levi looks blankly back at him for a beat too long. “Just take your shower,” he says, “I know you didn’t last night. Just get ready so we can go down for tea and breakfast.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says.

            He showers as quickly as possible, spends as little time in the washroom as possible, and even then, he keeps the door cracked open, keeps listening for the sound of the outside door opening. But he hears nothing, and when he gets out Levi is still sitting on that blanket, stretching.

            Levi takes the shower next, dresses quickly while Erwin sits on the edge of the bed tapping at his thigh with one hand. He just gets increasingly anxious as the minutes go by.

            Afterwards, they both go down for breakfast. Months ago Levi had gotten into the habit of going down early for breakfast and grabbing up both their meals to bring back to Erwin’s office, where they’d eat together. Erwin used to go himself or have someone bring it up to his office if he was particularly busy (which he often is) but Levi had taken to doing it after a while, complaining that Erwin took too long getting up in the morning and Levi was going himself anyway.

            Today, they both go down. Levi makes no comment. They get their food, go back to Erwin’s office. Levi sips his tea and pushes food around on his plate. For once, Erwin can hardly eat either. He takes a deep breath, watching as Levi looks downwards at his food. “Would you like to talk about yesterday?” Erwin asks, trying to sound as steady and neutral as possible.

            “No,” Levi says without looking up.

            Erwin hadn’t been very optimistic about Levi’s response to his questions, but he’d been hoping for at least some kind of opening. “Would you like to talk about your back?” Erwin tries, thinking that might be an easier topic.

            “No,” Levi says again, tensing this time.

            Erwin picks at his food. Levi picks at his. After a minute of tense silence, Erwin swallows. He braces himself. “Levi,” Erwin says, “I would like it if you would stay at medical today.” He pauses, and Levi’s head snaps up and he has such a surprised, wide-eyed look. Erwin clears his throat. “For a bit.”

            Levi keeps staring at him. “For a bit,” he says. His voice is hollow. His eyes go hollow.

            Erwin curls his fingers. “Yes,” he says, “for a bit.”

            Levi keeps looking at him. “And what exactly are you going to tell them, when I go to stay for a bit?” Erwin takes a breath, but Levi keeps going, his eyes slowly narrowing. “Because if you tell them that I’m going to kill myself, then they’re not going to let me leave. So how long exactly is ‘a bit,’ Erwin?”

            His voice is hard, goes angry at the end, and Erwin was expecting some argument, but he was not expecting the look of betrayal and suspicion in Levi’s eyes.

            “I only meant a few hours today,” Erwin says. “I didn’t – I’m not trying to trick you, Levi, I only meant for a few hours.”

            “Then what are you planning on telling them?” Levi says. “How long’s suicide watch? Three days? Seven?”

            And honestly, Erwin hadn’t really thought that far ahead. He’s right, even as commander, it is going to be difficult to convince anyone at medical to allow him to leave if Erwin presents him as a suicide risk. And it would pretty much defeat the purpose if Erwin doesn’t tell them that that’s the reason he’s bringing him there – even if he made something up, they wouldn’t check on him frequently.

            Erwin is also keenly aware that if Levi is determined to leave, he will find a way to leave. Erwin’s pretty sure they’d have to tie him down or lock him in a cell to actually guarantee his safety, and even then, it wouldn’t really shock Erwin if he managed to find a way out.

            Erwin sighs. “Three days, generally,” he says.

            Levi’s jaw clicks. Erwin watches the hard expression on his face, and he tries to think it through then – which would actually be safer? Because Levi hates medical, and it makes him anxious, and Erwin knows that he’d manage to get out of there if he really wanted to. So is he actually safer there? Or would it just make things worse – make him more likely to act on his impulses? And could Erwin actually do that to him? Could he actually tie him down or lock him up, could he stomach the look of anger and betrayal and fear that Levi would give him, if he really thought it was the only way to ensure his safety?

            There is a logical part of his brain that says yes, that if it was the only way, then he could. There is another part of him that is horrified.

            Erwin lets out a breath. “I was asking,” he says, “be-”

            “Were you?” Levi says. “Asking, Erwin?” 

            It’s dark, hard. Erwin forces out another breath. “Yes,” he says, hard as well. “I was asking. I was asking because I’d like to get a few things done, and then afterwards I thought you could stay with me for today.”

            The lines of Levi’s face relax just the slightest bit. “And tomorrow?”

            “Let’s worry about today.”

            Levi makes a noncommittal hum. His shoulders untense a bit and Erwin relaxes slightly in turn. “What do you have to do exactly that I can’t come with you?”

            Erwin hesitates. “I’d like to talk to Hange. And to Mike.”

            Levi assesses him. “You want to talk to them about me.”

            “Yes,” Erwin says.

            Levi drums his fingers on the table. “You don’t think that maybe I should be part of those conversations, Erwin?”

            Erwin hesitates. Levi keeps looking at him. His expression has lost its bite though, and now he mostly looks a bit annoyed. But Erwin hesitates for a long moment, and Levi’s face slips to a frown, a dash of worry. “I want to start making plans for your surgery,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s expression drops. His eyes widen and he freezes. “I didn’t say I wanted the surgery,” he says.

            Erwin breathes. “Levi,” he says, quietly, gently. “I think you do.”

            Levi crosses his arms. He looks away. His fingers start curling where he grips his arms.

            “You’ve said before that you didn’t want to talk about it, when we were planning the hospital trip,” Erwin says. “I thought you might prefer not to be there for those conversations. If you want to, you’re welcome to.”

            It’s not the entire truth. Erwin’s hoping he’ll decline. He wants to discuss what’s going on with Hange, and he thinks that will be easier without Levi there, at least to start. But Levi has a point – it’s not really fair of Erwin to exclude him from conversations directly about him and his wellbeing.

            “Well you’re wrong, and I haven’t decided shit,” Levi says.

            “Okay,” Erwin says. He watches Levi’s movements. He’s gone from annoyed and careful to agitated and anxious very quickly, at even the mention of surgery. He keeps fidgeting, fingers digging into his arms. “Levi, I’m not going to force you to get surgery. It’s still your –”

            “I know – no one’s fucking forcing me, because you don’t have to force me, because it’s the only fucking option so you’ve just gone ahead with it anyway.” And, well, that is pretty much exactly what Erwin has been doing.

            Levi stands abruptly from his chair, both hands running through his hair, tugging. He paces in a tight circle for a moment. Levi takes in a ragged breath and Erwin’s halfway out of his chair as well. “Levi –” he starts.

            “Stop,” Levi says. His voice is clipped, and he swallows. Something uncontrolled has taken over his expression. “I just – stop.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says. He settles back into his chair.

            Levi paces for another few moments, his expression uncharacteristically open, but not by choice, more like he can’t keep it blank, like he’s too overwhelmed and distressed. It’s starting to look disconcertingly close to how he’d looked last night. He clenches his fists and his eyes keep flashing until he throws out his arms. “I can’t even handle talking about it,” he says, “how the fuck am I actually supposed to do it?” He looks back at Erwin desperately.

            “You’re upset right now,” Erwin says. “You had a terrible night. You don’t need to talk about it right now, Levi.”

            “You’re so sure it’ll get better,” Levi says.

            “I know it’ll get better than it is now,” Erwin says. “I know it will still be difficult, it would be difficult for anyone, Levi, but I think you’ll feel better in a day or two, when you’ve had time for it to set in.” Erwin tries to put confidence into his voice. He’s sure hoping Levi feels better by then.

            Levi shakes his head, but he takes a few deeper breaths and then stops moving, coming back in front of Erwin’s desk. “You want me to stay in medical while you talk to Hange,” he says. “Fine. I don’t want to stay there all day or at night. Please don’t ask me to.”

            “I won’t,” Erwin says. He’s a little surprised at Levi’s change in attitude. He was sure Levi was going to refuse to go there at all earlier.

            They finish breakfast. Neither of them eat much. Levi picks a book and takes some paperwork (which Erwin tries to get him to leave but Levi insists he’ll just be bored otherwise) and they walk to medical. Erwin asks to speak to the head doctor on duty while Levi is shown to a room. He doesn’t look at Erwin as he follows the nurse, and Erwin winces.

            Erwin then has the task of trying to impart upon the doctor Levi’s risk without inciting a formal suicide watch. Ultimately, Erwin supposes there is little the doctors could do if he insisted on taking Levi out of medical. They could write up a formal complaint to Zackley, which Erwin does not think Zackley would actually care about, but beyond that there is nothing much they could really do to stop him.

            Erwin’s still not sure it’s the right choice, not with how at risk Levi really is, but he also doesn’t think Levi’s really much safer here then with Erwin, and Erwin is pretty certain that the medical setting will not help things at all. It’s not like they have any real treatment for suicidal ideation. Soldiers are just sent for a time and then dismissed when they improve or when they lie convincingly enough to feign improvement.

            The doctor frowns at him. Erwin moves his way through a terse explanation that he’s become concerned for the captain’s health after he seemed to be behaving recklessly and made a couple of worrying comments.

            “We can do an examination and hold him for suicide risk,” the doctor says when Erwin’s done.

            “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Erwin says. “I was just planning on keeping an eye on him myself but I have a few meetings I need to attend first. I don’t have any real evidence to suggest he’s planning on harming himself and I’d rather not detain him unnecessarily. But certainly we’ll come back if there are any developments.”

            It works. Erwin’s actually a little put off that it's so simple. The doctor ultimately just shrugs and agrees to add Levi to the nurse’s rounds until Erwin returns. Erwin thinks perhaps they need to re-evaluate how they handle suicide within the ranks. He had expected the doctor to be more concerned.

            Erwin slips into the room Levi is in quickly before leaving. He shuts the door behind him as Levi looks up from the chair he’s sat in.

            “I haven’t told them anything but that you’ve said some mildly concerning things about dying,” he says. “They’ll probably ask you questions.” Though perhaps not, if the doctor was really so unbothered.

            Levi nods. Erwin trusts him to read between the lines and not say anything too damning if they ask him about it. Erwin really does hate that they’re lying to the medical staff. He’s told Levi too many times not to lie to medical staff, not to hide injuries and to get himself treated. He’s only rationalizing it because there is not much actual treatment they can offer. Hange has talked about her old professor who works with people with mental illness, but as far as Erwin knows that treatment is only available by a select few in Sina. It’s not widely accepted or known, and Levi isn’t going to get it here.

            “You’ll be back in a few hours?” Levi says, looking a bit wary now. “Because if I’m staying any longer than that then I’m going to need a mop and some bleach.”

            “Just a few hours,” Erwin says. “I’ll try to be back before lunch.”

            “Alright,” Levi says.

            “Is it –” Erwin starts, and looks around. He doesn’t see any obvious signs of dust or dirt. “Is it okay for you? I don’t want to make you stay some place that will make you more anxious.”

            “It’s already going to make me more anxious, it’s medical,” Levi says. He waves a hand though. “It’s fine. Looks like they’ve dusted recently at least.”

            “Okay,” Erwin says. “I’ll be back soon, I promise… thank you, Levi.”

            Levi waves again, opening his book. “Just don’t leave me here forever.”

            “Soon. I promise,” Erwin says. He hesitates before leaving, and steps forward. Levi turns to him again when he doesn’t leave. Erwin carefully reaches out a hand to cup the side of his face, and he’s half expecting Levi to lean away or swat at his hand, but he doesn’t. His skin is warm under Erwin’s palm. His eyes match on Erwin’s, and it’s somehow both a soft and intense look, almost resigned. “I’m sorry,” Erwin says.

            Levi’s head tips just the slightest bit down for a moment, his eyes closing, as his chest falls in a long breath. He opens his eyes again while reaching up for Erwin’s hand. His fingers slide over Erwin’s wrist, and again Erwin is expecting Levi to pull it away, but instead he just wraps his fingers there, holds. It’s gentle, and unlike him for that fact exactly.

            “Stop saying you’re sorry,” Levi says. “It’s not your damn fault. And don’t apologize to me for this. I know why you’re doing it.”

            Erwin smiles. “Okay,” he says.

            Erwin leaves, reiterates to the doctor that he’ll be back that afternoon, and then goes to find Hange.

            He finds her in her office. She calls him in after he knocks, and she looks up from a table, Moblit next to her, when he comes in. They’re looking at some large diagram spread out over the table. Hange gets one look at him and then turns to Moblit.

            “Could you run out and find James? We could use his help on the projection,” she says. Moblit nods, salutes hastily to Erwin, and then exits. Hange turns her gaze on him, her mouth turning to a frown, her eyes singularly focused. “What is it?” she says.

            Erwin takes a deep breath, and all his words vanish. He feels the full weight of the previous night and this morning, struck with the horrible reality that his lover is currently in medical on a pseudo-suicide watch because he’d rather die than continue living. Erwin tenses up and suddenly his eyes are on the floor, uncharacteristically frozen.

            “Erwin?” Hange says, her voice distinctly worried now. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

            Erwin looks up. He’s silent for one long moment, as Hange looks at him, and then it comes out of him abruptly, before he even really thinks the words. “Levi said he wants to kill himself.”

            Hange’s expression falls, eyes widening, mouth open, shoulders rising, tense. “Oh,” she says. “Oh, Erwin.”

 

 

            “Well did you ask him if he’d made a plan?” she says, after Erwin is finished explaining and after she’d pushed a jar of dried fruit and some lukewarm tea at him in some attempt at comfort.

            “No,” he says. He hadn’t thought to ask him much of anything, had just been desperate to help.

            Hange frowns at him. “You’re supposed to ask if they’ve made a plan.”

            “I wasn’t aware there was a questioner for these types of things,” Erwin says. Really, he should have been better prepared for this. Suicide is not even that uncommon within the Survey Corps (especially among new recruits who see a titan for the first time and then realize what they’ve signed up for).

            She lists off on her fingers. “You ask if they’ve made a plan and if they’ve picked a specific time.”

            Erwin puts his head in his hands, running them over his face while taking a deep breath. “Does it matter that much? It certainly wouldn’t be difficult for him to get ahold of something.” Erwin can think of half a dozen ways a soldier could kill themselves just off the top of his head. Especially when they had guns on the premises. They were kept locked up, but Levi could certainly get one. He wouldn’t even need to break in, he had the rank to demand access. Erwin feels sick thinking about it.

            “Yes,” Hange says. “It’s still relevant.”

            “Nothing is going to stop him if he’s really intent on it,” Erwin says. He runs a hand through his hair again. “I don’t know what to do, Hange. Do you think I should order him to stay in medical?”

            She frowns, then grimaces. “He would probably just break out, wouldn’t he? But you said he agreed to stay there today.”

            “Because it’s only for a few hours,” Erwin says.

            “Mm, it’s a start,” she says. “At least he’s not being wholly uncooperative. If you ask him how serious he was, do you think he’d tell you the truth?”

            It’s a hard question. Erwin really doesn’t know. He doesn’t think Levi would lie outright to him, at least, he hopes he wouldn’t. But he’s certainly kept things from Erwin before, has certainly downplayed issues or refused to speak on matters.

            “I don’t know,” Erwin says. Even yesterday, Levi hadn’t actually said very much. “He’s fixating on the surgery,” Erwin says. “It’s a month away though.”

            That’s when they started scheduling it. Erwin isn’t really sure now though, if it would be better to move it sooner or push it farther out. On one hand, Erwin doesn’t think Levi will really get over this until it’s done. On the other, he’s clearly not capable of going through with it right now. There’s got to be some sort of sweet spot there, when he’ll be over his initial frozen panic but before the wait gets too agonizing. Erwin’s just really not sure when that’ll be.

            “Throw some more money at them, they’ll move it up,” she says, waving a hand.

            “You think three weeks?” Erwin says. Two seems awfully short notice. But three – it feels like such a long time.

            “The sooner the better,” Hange says.

            Erwin stares down at the wood of Hange’s desk, thinking. “I’ll ask him,” Erwin says. Not today, he thinks. In a couple days, when he’s hopefully calmed down some.

            “Maybe you two should take a trip,” Hange says. “Get out of HQ for a while, take a break.”

            “I can’t just pack up and leave,” Erwin says, though the idea is certainly appealing. Perhaps next week he could sort out just a couple of days.

 

 

            Levi sits in his little room at medical, in the chair, and tries to read while a nurse pops in every fifteen minutes. At first he finds it distracting, and then he finds it annoying, and then he finds it grating. He snaps his book shut after about an hour and a half and goes to stand by the window, looking outside. He leans his arms on the ledge of the window. It’s a clear day. He can feel a chill through the glass but the sun is already starting to heat things up. His cloak is folded neatly on the bed next to him. He’d worn it out since they’d walked between buildings to get here.

            He fingers the latch on the window. Fifteen minutes. They’re on the second floor. He toys with the idea of popping outside for five or ten minutes, but sighs instead and goes back to his chair, though he opens the window a crack to let in some fresh air. It’s starting to feel stifling in the small room. Levi shoulders the uncomfortable sensation of being trapped.

            He has trouble concentrating on his book, and then on his work, once he gives up on the novel. He’s certainly not feeling so frantic, so desperately pained and afraid as he had been yesterday, but he’s not so sure he’s actually feeling much better either. It’s back to that slow, muddy sinking.

            He’s looking outside again, leaning against the windowsill, when Erwin returns. He knows it’s Erwin before the door even clicks open, and only finds it strange after the fact. He’d heard his footsteps, he supposes. Heavier than the nurse. He hears the door click shut again, and more footsteps. A hand slides gently over his shoulder.

            “When’s your next meeting?” Levi says without turning around.

            “At two, why?” Erwin says. “How are you feeling?”

            What a useless question, Levi thinks, but he knows Erwin means it kindly. “I’d like to take a walk,” Levi says instead.

            “Oh,” Erwin says, sounding surprised. “Okay,” he says, “I told Hange we’d come see her at some point, but it can wait. Do you want to grab some food first?”

            Levi knows it’s around eleven, not because there’s a clock in the room (there isn’t) but because the fifteen-minute increment checkups have meant he’s kept track whether he wanted to or not.

            “Not really,” Levi says. He’s grateful when Erwin doesn’t argue.

            “Okay,” he says, “we’ll get something when we come back. Where would you like to go?”

 

 

            After their walk, in which they go through one of the paths in the forest and don’t talk much, they go see Hange. There’s a sense of pressure in the room, as soon as they enter. Levi looks visibly uncomfortable. Hange jumps over a box and wraps him in a hug before he has the chance to move away.

            Levi nearly stumbles back a step, letting out a huff of breath. “Hange,” he says after a moment, standing stock still with a disapproving look on his face that makes Erwin smile. “Get off me.” Despite this, Erwin sees the way Levi relaxes.

            “Right, I think I’ll go grab us some lunch,” Erwin says. “I’ll be right back.”

            Levi gives him an affronted look, Hange still wrapped around him, but Erwin just smiles and steps out again. He knows Hange will want to talk to him, and it feels both too private and too stifling for him to stay. While they both only want to help, Erwin doesn’t want Levi to feel like he’s being ganged up on. Levi seems to struggle with this kind of attention from one person. Erwin thinks it would only make him uncomfortable and reticent with two.

            Erwin takes his time. When he gets back with their meals, he finds Hange behind her desk and Levi leaning back in a chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, looking a little more relaxed, his expression blank again. He holds a cup of tea in his hand, and Hange has some out as well. Erwin wonders where she got the tea.

            He hands out food. Levi puts his cup down on Hange’s desk to take a plate, then starts picking at it. His eyes shift from Hange to Erwin, and his expression changes to something a bit wary. When there’s been a few moments of silence save for the clicking of forks on plates and some chewing, Levi frowns. “Well?” he says.

            Hange looks up, eyes wide. Erwin swallows a wince. “Are you feeling any better, Levi?” he says.

            “Sure,” Levi says. Erwin frowns, then tries not to frown. Levi stares back at him, and then he sighs. He leans an elbow against Hange’s desk. “Just spit it out, Eyebrows,” he says.

            Erwin clears his throat. He looks over at Hange, who just looks back at him. “Ah, well, Hange wanted to ask you a few questions,” he says, looking at her. And it’s not until that moment that he thinks he really should have tried to get Hange alone again, even if it was only for a few moments, and then he thinks he probably should have asked Levi himself on their walk, but here he is. “Ah, did you already –”

            “Yes,” she says.

            Erwin looks at her. “And, ah…?”

            Levi sighs. “I just freaked out after the attack.”

            Again, Erwin is struck with the thought that he is really quite terrible at this. For all his ability to bend words and rhetoric to his will, it seems he is going to continually fail in this aspect.

            “Well, that’s… good.”

            “Is that all you wanted to ask?” Levi says.

            “Well,” Erwin says, and he’d at least practiced this part in his head while he was out getting lunch. “I know that you’ve… you’ve made mention of feeling this way in the past, and I know I’ve asked before what we can do to help, and you said you didn’t know. So, I thought, perhaps, you might tell us anything that helped before? Helped to make you feel better, and to keep you safe?”

            Levi drums his fingers against Hange’s desk. He shrugs. Erwin again thinks this would be easier if they were alone, not that Hange’s presence was unwelcome, just that all eyes were on Levi, and it was clearly wearing at his patience.

            “We went to a bar and I got shit-faced,” Levi says. Erwin winces. Levi cocks his head slightly though, seems to actually think about it. “I dunno, Furlan wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone, we had a pistol we hardly ever used so he went out and hid that somewhere, kept searching my room for shit.” He pauses, frowns as his fingers stop tapping. “We had a big job,” Levi says. “Lots of casing the place, lots of trailing marks, took a whole month to pull off, normally we stuck to quicker jobs.” Levi lets out a breath. “We were really busy, for a while. I guess that helped.”

            Erwin nods, it makes sense. But it would be difficult – Erwin didn’t really want Levi out of his sight right now, and it sounded like what would really help him would to be out with his squad, training – maybe Erwin could reallocate some work to him. Mike generally took care of inventory, maybe Levi could take some of it on for a bit – but was it really good to overwork him like that? Wouldn’t rest be better?

            Erwin can’t help wondering if he’s blowing things out of proportion either – if he is making a bigger deal out of this then it needs to be. Especially while looking at Levi now, while he is sitting calmly, expression more or less neutral, sipping tea. Maybe it was just a particularly bad night, a particularly terrible combination, the perfect storm, after getting an attack two days in a row. On top of that, he’d sought Erwin out, had looked for help. Maybe it would never happen again, maybe he was worrying for nothing.

            Of course, Levi also has a long standing habit of hurting himself. And it’s not the first time that he’s felt like this.

            “It doesn’t really matter though,” Levi says, back to drumming his fingers, looking a little more agitated. “I didn’t need fucking surgery last time.”

            Erwin pauses, hesitates. “Was there something else, something that triggered it?”

            “No,” Levi says, “it was the fucking underground, everything was shit about that place.”

            “Well, was there –”

            Levi shoots him a sharp glance. “Drop it, Erwin.”

            Erwin’s surprised, followed by a worried suspicion, making him frown. “Alright,” he says though, despite his feelings. He won’t push Levi right now, especially not when they’re not alone. He backtracks. “Maybe we can work on keeping you busy then,” Erwin says. It certainly makes sense that keeping his mind occupied might help. “How about –”

            “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past two months?” Levi says. “I’m already busy. I was plenty busy yesterday and we’re still here.”

            “Well –” Erwin starts.

            He can see it, the moment whatever thin line of patience snaps in Levi. He can see it abruptly cut with the sharp streak in his eyes. “It’s not going to magically get better,” Levi says, “it’s going to be shit. And you can try to help, and I can try not to kill myself, but it’s still going to be shit, okay, Erwin? It’s –”

            Hange smacks a hand, palm down, on the top of her desk. The sound is loud enough to be startling. “I’m going to Mitras,” she says.

            Levi stops mid-sentence and the both of them turn to stare at her. She smiles back.

            “What?” Erwin says.

            “I’ll need letters of introduction, Erwin,” she says, “I’ll leave today so I can start the morning there, I’ll be back as soon as I can, won’t be more than a few days, I’ll write if I’ll be longer.”

            “The fuck are you on about, Four-Eyes?” Levi says.

            “There’s some things I need to investigate,” she says.

            “Hange,” Erwin says. “You can’t just decide to go to Mitras, what even –”

            She sets her gaze back on Erwin, and this time it is suddenly serious, a ferocity in the gleam of her eyes. “You have your theories about the government suppressing knowledge of the past,” she says to him, and it’s enough to make Erwin stiffen just slightly.

            He’s never talked with her in detail about his beliefs, but he knows that she must have picked up on some of it, if only by the books he read and the careful manipulation of the nobles he’s done since before he was commander. Just as the aristocracy misjudge and underestimate Levi, they do so with Hange as well. And Erwin has wondered on more than one occasion if all of Hange’s eccentricities are genuine, or if she doesn’t put on a show at times too. She’s much more observant than people give her credit for.

            “Well,” she says, “I have some theories about the suppression of technological advancement.” She leans back in her chair. “If you were the king or a noble, and you were suppressing the advancement of knowledge, what would be the one area that might give you pause, Erwin?”

            “You think they have better medical care,” he says. It does make sense, that they would want to continue advancing the field of medicine, if they were in fact hindering other areas, but of course, those in the capital already had better medical treatment than those beyond wall Sina. “We know that already” Erwin continues. “The hospitals in Mitras –”

            “They’re the best,” she says, “but that’s not what I mean.” She points at a stack of letters on her desk. “They don’t want me in the operating room,” she says. “I’ve tried asking questions and they’re being cryptic about it. And I think the doctor we saw was lying.”

            Levi tenses all up. Erwin’s eyes flick to him. “Hange, maybe we should –”

            “Send me to Mitras for a couple days,” she says, “I’ll figure it out.”

            “Hange,” Erwin says, a little harder. Levi is staring at her now.

            “What do you mean he was lying?” Levi says. He’s sat up straight.

            “It’s a good thing,” Hange says to him, her voice softening for a second. “That’s why I want to investigate. I think they have better medical treatment than they’re letting on. I think your donor, Erwin, is pulling strings to get Levi the royal treatment.” She grins.

            “So he’s not actually going to perform a laminectomy?” Erwin says.

            “I’m not sure, I think that’s still right, but he was vague on the details and I thought it was because he was dumbing it down since I’m not a doctor, but now I think it’s that he’s not allowed to hand out details,” she says. “Whatever it is, I want to find out more, and hopefully they have something to share that can put your mind at ease a bit, Shorty.” She turns to Erwin. “And Erwin, I want to be in that operating room,” she says it with a glint in her eyes, that manic edge back. “So write another letter to Lord Meyer, because I’m pretty sure that’s the only way I’m getting in there.”

            “If they’re still cutting bones from my spine, I don’t see how it can possibly be better,” Levi says, arms crossed, tense.

            “Maybe they have a special new type of saw,” Hange says.

            “Hange,” Erwin says, glancing from her to Levi, who has gone pale.

            “They could have better pain meds,” she says. “He didn’t say you’d be unconscious, but maybe you would be. Maybe the surgery will be over with faster.”

            “They’re still removing bones,” Levi says.

            “Parts of bone,” Hange says. “Just pieces.”

            Levi shifts, starting to look anxious again. Hange’s voice goes serious and gentle as she looks at him. “Levi,” she says, “I’d like your permission to schedule it while I’m there.”

            Erwin gives her a sharp look, but Hange’s eyes are solely on Levi. Erwin had hoped to wait at least a couple days to bring it up, the timing at least. Hange pays no attention to the pointed look he’s giving her.

            “It will give me a pretense to be there,” she says, “finalizing the details, picking a date.”

            We’ve already picked a date, Erwin thinks, more or less, anyway. But of course, Levi doesn’t know that, and they discussed moving it up instead.

            Erwin thinks Levi’s going to say no, is sure he’s about to say no, after their conversation this morning, but his teeth grit. “How long?” he says.

            “Sooner rather than later,” Hange says, “I think that be best, to get it over with.”

            Levi’s teeth grit some more. It’s a long moment, quiet, and Levi just tenses up further. His expression is blank, but it’s carefully controlled, and Erwin can feel the nervous, rolling energy coming off him.

            “Okay,” Levi says.

            Erwin’s eyebrows raise, surprised, but he quickly smooths his expression again. He places a careful hand on Levi’s shoulder.

            Hange grins. “Great!” she says. She turns to Erwin. “Letters of introduction,” she says.

            “I suppose I’ll get some paper,” Erwin says.

 

 

Notes:

Firstly, thank you for all the wonderful comments last chapter, I really do appreciate them all! I'm glad you guys liked it and it came out okay.

Apologies for this chapter taking so long, I've been taking a bit of a break from fanfiction recently, though I hope to not take so long with the next update. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Wanted to focus a bit more on Erwin here, since we didn't get his perspective last chapter.

Happy reading!

Notes:

Hey, thanks for reading. If you want to send a comment it will totally make my day and I super appreciate it :)