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It’s over.
Almost a decade of fighting the titans. Several years of trying to execute the coup, years of running from the government and hiding and not knowing if he would wake up the next day. After all those years, it’s finally over.
And Levi finds himself having trouble accepting it.
The younger members of the Survey Corps are transferring to different branches of the military, but the older members are encouraged to retire. The queen has even issued public funds to provide for their retirement—a small thank you for helping her win the throne. Everyone else is thrilled. The Survey Corps barracks have been filled with talk about what everyone will do upon their retirement, about how thankful they are to never have to go up against titans again. But Levi finds himself unable share in their excitement. If given the choice, Levi would choose titans over retirement any day.
Levi can’t imagine what he will do as a retired man. Doesn’t even know where to go. He has no one—no one but the other members of the survey corps. And he doubts they want to live out their peaceful retirement with him.
Truth be told, Levi doesn’t know who he is without the Survey Corps. His life has become so entrenched in the struggle that he can’t imagine what else he would do with himself. He’s forgotten what it feels like to have any goal beside defeating the titans. Without that, he’s not even sure who he is.
So Levi does not want to retire. But he doesn’t tell anyone—he can’t tell anyone, anyway. Not only because they wouldn’t understand, but also because Levi’s lost his voice.
It’s a depressing irony in a way. Levi, who always had a choice word for everyone, who let anyone know what was on his mind without filter, can no longer speak. A year ago, a member of the military police had slashed his throat. It was a miracle he hadn’t died. Since then, he hasn’t been able to make a sound.
And in a way, that makes the prospect of retirement even worse. He envisions the years stretching ahead of him, silent and solitary, unable to even talk to anyone. It’s not a situation he enjoys the idea of, but there’s no other option.
So Levi postpones the inevitable as long as possible. He stays in the Survey Corps barracks for months after the war ends. He takes his time looking for a house, packs and re-packs his possessions. Everyone leaves around him until there are only two people left in the building—himself, and Erwin.
They don’t talk to each other during the last few days. Then again, they can’t. Levi can’t speak, and while he’s gotten into the habit of writing notes to everyone, he can’t do that for Erwin. Erwin can no longer see. The military police tortured him, and when he emerged from the ordeal, his eyesight had been taken from him. And so, after years of effortless communication between the two of them, Erwin and Levi can no longer hold a simple conversation.
So they live around each other, passing by in silence, until the final day before their retirement must begin. The building has to be cleared out eventually, and a date had been set by which everyone must be gone. Now it is one day away from that date, and everyone has gone.
The building is disturbingly silent now. There are no new recruits running around, no soldiers passing on their way to strength training or meals or chores, not even horses whinnying in the stables. Just empty rooms and the echoes of the only life Levi had ever felt he was meant for.
He had already said goodbye to everyone else who meant anything to him. There’s only one person left, and he’d be the hardest of all.
Levi knocks on his office door and waits for Erwin to invite him in.
The office is nearly bare. The bookshelves are empty, the desk is blank but for a couple wooden boxes. Erwin’s drawers are open, apparently in the middle of being emptied. The sight hurts.
Perhaps just as painful is the sight of Erwin staring blindly into the distance, his blue eyes dull and clouded over. He stands erect with his remaining hand resting on the edge of a box. The sun is bright in the window behind him. It highlights specs of dust in the air and gives a shining, fire-like quality to Erwin’s gold hair. Levi wishes he could describe how noble and proud Erwin looks. From this angle, Erwin’s arm stump is hidden. He doesn’t look like an old, maimed soldier. He looks like a commander. He looks like a king.
Levi wishes he could say as much, but he can’t. There are a lot of things Levi wishes could say. Wishes he had said when he could. But the chance is gone.
Levi had always admired Erwin, always respected him. As time went on, the respect turned to devotion. The admiration had turned to awe. And perhaps they had turned to a little more. But Levi is skilled at hiding his emotions, even from himself, and becoming emotionally attached had been a dangerous thing. There had always been the chance that they would die the next day.
Now that that chance was finally eliminated, they had to leave each other.
“Who is it?” Erwin asks. Then, “Levi, is that you?”
Levi nods out of habit, then remembers Erwin can’t see him. So he crosses the office, wondering what exactly he is planning on doing.
“That is you, isn’t it?” Erwin says. “I recognize your footsteps.”
Levi stops in front of Erwin’s desk. The wooden furniture separates the two of them as it often did in the past. Levi rests his hands on the barrier and wishes with all his strength that he could speak.
“What is it?” Erwin asks.
Levi wants so badly to answer him, to tell him everything. To tell him thank you, to say goodbye, to let him know that no one on earth is anywhere close to as important as Erwin is. And the damn emotions are rising up in him, the ones that make him notice every detail of Erwin’s face and every slight movement, the ones that make just looking at the man feel spiritual. This time, for the first time since meeting him, Levi doesn’t clamp down on them. He lets them wash over him, because Erwin can’t see him and he can’t accidentally say anything dumb, so why the fuck not? It’s the last time he will be looking at Erwin, so he openly stares and his heart—so used to loss, broken so many times—cracks just a little bit more.
“Did you need something?” Erwin asks. His voice seems to have gotten a little quieter.
Levi needs so much, but he can’t ask for any of it, and so he does the only thing he can think of. He reaches his hand across the desk and takes hold of Erwin’s.
Erwin looks down out of habit, dull eyes now pointed at the contents of the box. But he does not pull away. He merely turns his hand up to hold Levi’s and make the grip a little more comfortable.
And he says, perceptive as always, “I’ll miss you, too.”
Levi swallows hard, but he’s not going to fucking cry. He should be able to handle this, god, he’s lost so many people, why does Erwin have such an impact on him?
“Can you come around the desk?” Erwin asks. “The reach is a little uncomfortable.” And Levi obeys, because he always obeys, and this one last request is exactly what he wants, anyway.
Levi briefly lets go of his hand to travel around the desk, but once he’s close enough he takes it back again. This time Erwin is ready. He offers up his hand to Levi, cupping their palms together. Levi squeezes Erwin’s hand, lets his thumb travel over Erwin’s knuckles. He raises his other rand and rests it over the back of Erwin’s, concentrates on the heat of Erwin’s hand between his own.
“Levi,” Erwin breathes. He speaks unexpectedly, and Levi looks up at him, apprehensive. Then Erwin says, “Do you have somewhere to go tomorrow?”
Levi squeezes his hand in confirmation. He had bought a little house just a few blocks away from the Survey Corps headquarters to stay in during his retirement.
“Was that a yes?” Levi squeezes his hand again. “I see. Good.” But Erwin looks concerned. It’s subtle, but Levi knows Erwin. He knows that the slight furrow in his brow means that he isn’t happy.
“Levi,” Erwin says slowly, “You’re a good soldier and a great man. Humanity owes you a great deal, but I owe you more. And I . . . I wish you all the best in your retirement.”
Levi stares at Erwin. The words are normal, but Erwin still seems upset, more upset than he would have expected. His jaw is set and his blank gaze is steady, and it’s so controlled that it looks to Levi almost as though he’s back on a mission.
Levi wants to return Erwin’s words, and give him many more, but the words are gone and all he has is his touch. He holds Erwin’s hand a little tighter, runs his thumb over Erwin’s fingers and down across the side of his palm. But that isn’t strong enough. It’s doesn’t say nearly enough, and since Levi will never see Erwin again anyway, he decides to take a risk.
He raises one hand (the other continues to grip Erwin’s) and stretches up on his toes. With the very tips of his fingers, Levi touches Erwin’s face.
Erwin’s face is even more soft and smooth than he had imagined it.
“Oh,” Erwin breaths. He leans into the touch, his chin dropping down as Levi’s fingers leave his face. Then he whispers, “Thank you.” Then, he raises his head and pulls his hand free of Levi’s grip. Levi watches cautiously as Erwin holds his hand stretched out toward Levi. “May I?” he asks, reaching towards Levi’s face. “I’d like to . . . see you. One last time.”
Levi reaches up to squeeze Erwin’s hand “yes.”
Erwin starts at the forehead, drops his fingers over Levi’s eyebrows and gently brushes against his eyelids. Levi closes his eyes to make it easier for Erwin, and the feeling of Erwin’s touch on his face becomes the only sensation he’s aware of. His breathing slows as he holds himself completely still. The gentle fingers drift down his cheeks, outline his nose, trail a path from his jawbone to his chin. The lips come last. Erwin lifts his forefinger to the corner of Levi’s bottom lip and, little by little, traces it. When Erwin has finished following the curve of Levi’s bottom lip, he continues the path by outlining the top. Levi parts his lips and sighs a little, eyes still closed.
Erwin finishes his outline and rests the tip of his finger on the corner of Levi’s mouth, the length of it barely draped across Levi’s bottom lip. Levi carefully closes his lips and purses them, just a little, just almost a kiss.
He fears that Erwin will pull his hand away—isn’t even sure why he did that—but Erwin only repositions his finger so it’s more directly over Levi’s lips.
So Levi gets the hint and repeats the motion Erwin’s finger, but a little stronger, a little longer, a little more definitely a kiss.
“Oh. Levi.” Erwin’s hand travels so that it’s cupping Levi’s jaw. “Really?”
Finally, Levi opens his eyes. He looks up and can read more on Erwin’s face this time. The brow is still furrowed, the eyes still concerned, but the set of his jaw softened, mouth open as if in awe.
And he’s never going to see this man again, and Levi has never lied to him, and so he reaches up, holds Erwin’s palm closer to his face, and squeezes.
“Oh,” Erwin breathes out. “Oh. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.”
His hand doesn’t move. Neither does Levi’s.
“Levi, . . .” And Erwin hesitates. Stares into the distance and holds Levi’s face but doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, until the silence is agonizing. Levi drops his hand but can’t bring himself to step away, even though he knows he should.
“Levi,” Erwin begins again, “I don’t have any family or acquaintances. At the moment my only plans are to live alone, and, I recognize this is a very selfish request, but I wanted to invite you to live with me. Of course, I realize that you probably want to live out your days in peace--”
Oh.Levi suddenly understands what’s happening, and so he turns his head and presses his lips to the base of Erwin’s palm.
They both freeze. Levi looks up at Erwin’s expression to try to read what he’s thinking, but his expression has frozen too. Finally, Erwin says, “Was that a yes?”
So Levi does it again. And again. And another time, just to make sure Erwin has gotten the message. When he eventually looks up again, Erwin is doing something he’s hardly ever done in all the years Levi has known him—Erwin is smiling. A pure, unironic, relieved smile. So Levi smiles too.
The smile feels new and strange and lovely, as does the kiss that Erwin presses to his lips, as does the knowledge that he will not have to live out his days alone.