Chapter Text
Ironic, Levi thought, I always wanted to die in winter.
He felt the cold sink into his skin, settling deep into his bones. The bitter mist that surrounded him lay heavy on the landscape- forcing him to take another step, to try and escape the fog that smothered his vision. Even the air tasted ashen; his lungs heaving, desperate for another breath of air. He had to keep running. Had to keep moving.
The sun was bleary through the thick grey of the clouds above him, its rays barely piercing through. Bad sign- if he could see the sun, that means he was in open space. The exposed, open stretch of land, where there were no trees to take cover, nothing to map his way with, nothing to hide in. Just pure abandonment, Levi alone with the last of his blades, no horse, and no trees to grapple with and use his gear. Only the biting cold encouraged him to run, as well as his unforgiving heart, shouting with each gasping breath- run, or you will die.
It was so fucking hopeless, Levi had to bite down a laugh. Running when a titan’s stride could crush him easily, make his body a bloody stain in the field for Hange to examine. With each punishing footfall of his body trying to battle through the shrouded mist, his body prayed for rest, his green cape flying in the intense wind that roared in his ears. He had tried to shout, screamed his voice hoarse, and yet the barrage of wind against his body was the only reply. Not even the familiar sound of hooves on the other side of the relentless wail of wind, not even the earth-shakingly terrifying sound of a titan’s impeding footsteps. Levi wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the latter or not.
His previous encounter with a titan had nearly cost him his life. Just before everything went to shit, before the snow storm descended upon them and the Survey Corps scattered, an abnormal had encased him in its iron grip. Wrought with exhaustion and shock, he had barely been able to slice through its filthy fingers with his blades- Mikasa slicing its neck whilst Levi had struggled, finally being able to escape just as the gigantic corpse toppled and fell to the ground. He had thanked her with a nod of his head- until the blaring pain began in his chest, lancing up his ribs, and he nearly doubled over on Adira, his horse, clutching onto her reins in a vice-like grip.
After that, everything was too chaotic to even complain, allowing the screams of his comrades to echo over his lungs collapsing inwards.
Keep moving- the chant barely rasped past his dry throat and frost-bitten tongue. He felt dizzy- like with each step he was going to hurtle into the hazy mist, fall and never get back up. And it was so cold, so unnaturally so, like painful hacking at his exposed skin, needles being pressed into every inch of him. This is what they had been fighting for? All this freedom, all this land? Just to end up like this, the Survey Corps expedition torn to shreds by an unexpected snowstorm. The twisting in his lungs was agonising.
And then he saw it- a small flicker of light in the centre of the swirling wind, a single flame. A lamp, off in the distance, a figure holding it, holding their own against the wail of the storm hitting their body. A dark cloak. A gleam of hope.
He stumbled towards it, the venomous cold seeming to form chains at his ankles as he barely dragged himself along, towards the person, the clouded figure. He opened his mouth to shout- words he was sure got lost in the storm encircling his ears- and continued to barely keep himself upright. Bitter tears pooled in the corners of his eyes as the wind pierced his body. Levi kept screaming. Kept lurching forward, with jerky, agonising movements, every step causing his knees to buckle, his legs to near-surrender.
Whether it was Levi who reached the person first, or the other finally noticing him, he didn’t know. All he remembered was the screaming of wind battering his rib cage, the fleeting promise of light, before the dark fabric of the other person’s clothing was gripped in his hands, pulled towards him, a desperate hold onto life.
His knees hit the ground with a slam, a shout barely heard as the wind overtook his every thought.
He was not going to die. Not this winter, at least.