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Levi knew the instant they were gone.
A sickening crack tore a horrible scream from his throat as he began to freefall, his own pure white feathers falling like rain around him, their innocent color stained red with his own blood. The wind whistles in his ear but the Titan begins to crash too. Levi shuts his eyes, his peace made. A body slams into his own and he cries out again in pain as his back collides with desperately clinging arms. They hit the ground and Levi promptly blacks out.
He woke in Hanji’s arms, likely only a few minutes later. He was shirtless and tucked over their shoulder as they frantically gave directions to a shaking Mikasa whose hands were rubbing something on his back... yet something was terribly wrong. She could move across his whole back with no resistance, bandaging two fresh nubs, and Levi’s hands twisted in Hanji’s blood-soaked shirt as the pain slammed into him all at once.
“Erwin- my wings-“ Levi gasped through the awful searing sensation, and Levi didn’t have to see Hanji’s face to know they were crying.
“I’m sorry, Levi, they’re- everything- gone,” they sobbed, and Levi dizzily wondered if Hanji was talking about his wings or his Erwin.
He prayed to anyone out there it was just his wings.
Levi turned his head and there on the grass lay Erwin, his enormous and resplendent scarlet ibis wings laying at the same abnormal angle as his arm, which was so mangled that bone poked out. Levi shoved aside Hanji so he could collapse to his knees and throw up every feeble ration he’d downed in the last week.
“Levi!” his niece gasped but Levi ignored Mikasa in favor of crawling towards Erwin, mindful of his feathers. Levi’s hand flew to his heart, which still somehow beat feebly against his hand, and sobbed a broken sound of relief as his head thumped down against the Commander’s chest. He felt off-kilter and naked without his wings, desperate to lower them down and shield the two of them from the world. A familiar circle presses against his cheek under Erwin’s shirt, and his eyes squeeze shut.
“Stay,” Levi cries against him. “Hold onto your dreams and live,” he begs. Erwin remains still beneath him, and a strangled breath wraps its disfigured grasp around Levi’s windpipe.
Something warm and wet starts to seep down his leg, and Levi realizes he’s still bleeding, a cut sliced below where his wings used to be. He stands, lightheaded, and turns back to where Mikasa and Hanji are standing. The two of them are frozen in horror.
Where is the rest of the scouting mission?
He takes one step, two, before his knees start to crumple and Mikasa sprints to catch him, hefting her only kin into her arms as Levi passes out again. Hanji somehow manages to haul Erwin into their arms, and they all begin to head back to try and find the others.
They leave behind a felled Titan, Erwin’s arm and Levi’s wings in its stomach.
The doctors fit Levi with prosthetic wings, fearsome metal things with razor-sharp imitation feathers that can retract at will. Levi despises the bullet-grey color, resentful of the constant reminder of where his soft white Ackerman dove’s wings had once been. But the new similarity to Mikasa’s own downy grey wings made it slightly more bearable. People were even more intimidated by him now, and Levi knew exactly how he looked now that his loss had been turned into something sharp he could fight with.
They release Erwin from the hospital a week after Levi, combining to create a full three weeks Levi had been unable to see him at all. He’s in one of the officer lounges with Pixis when Erwin catches them by surprise, Pixis looking quietly pleased while Levi stands up and approaches him. Erwin is down an arm and the joints of his wings are carefully bandaged, but he’s alive. Levi and Hanji had thought...
Levi slaps Erwin across the face as hard as he can once he’s within reaching distance, and Erwin flinches back.
“You bastard,” Levi hisses. “I thought I would lose you.”
Levi’s chest heaves with anger-weighted breaths, and turns to Pixis briefly. The old man nods, excusing them, and Levi herds Erwin to his private quarters, slamming the door shut behind him before he grabs Erwin fiercely and drags him into his arms, back hitting the door with the force of his pull as he hugs Erwin as tightly as he can. Erwin sags against him and clings back as best he’s able with only one arm, and they stand there for many long minutes before Levi moves Erwin back to his bed.
Erwin carefully fans his wings out as he lays down and Levi’s stomach twists painfully as he straddles his waist, staring down at the man beneath him. Erwin meets his gaze steadily, and Levi tries to fight off the tears that threaten to sneak out of his control. He loves Erwin so much it hurts.
His heart clenches as an active reminder of that fact as he traces a careful finger down Erwin’s jaw, and in turn, Erwin’s hand comes to rest on his thigh.
Levi’s new mechanical wings snap out sharply, and Erwin’s eyes flare as he takes in Levi’s new limbs.
“They suit you,” he says quietly, and Levi turns away. He doesn’t know how to feel about that statement. His wings don’t tremble with anger or lust, fluff with contentment, flare with contempt, or comfort with warmth anymore. They’re hardened and cold, and Levi thinks bitterly that maybe it is fitting for him.
“Resilient,” Erwin adds with a whisper, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally do. Levi sinks down to lay himself fully on top of Erwin, wings snapping back shut and tight against his back, and now, only one arm comes to wrap around him. Levi shuts his eyes against Erwin’s shoulder and slowly drags his hand up from Erwin’s waist until he reaches the stump by his shoulder, and Erwin allows him to tentatively map the bandaged area with his fingers.
“I was so scared,” Levi admits, and Erwin’s hand clenches in his shirt.
“I’m not quite done with this world yet,” Erwin replies firmly.
Erwin’s wings weakly drift up in an attempt to wrap the two of them up, as they’ve done so often, but Levi can feel him wince in pain at the movement as they flutter back down. Levi carefully extends his own wings instead, but they’re more of a shield than a blanket. In the darkness offered by Levi, he shifts himself so he can look down at Erwin’s face. He ducks down and they kiss gently, Erwin’s hand cupping his face.
“I’m here,” Erwin murmurs against his lips between kisses, and Levi welcomes his mouth gratefully. They kiss until Levi’s lips feel swollen and tender, and his chin is red from Erwin’s stubble. Levi’s tears eventually subside as he retracts his wings. They have to take much more care to swap positions, Erwin sitting up first so Levi can move to the side then lay down, his wings digging cold and hard into his back. Erwin gingerly shifts with concern to his wings and his remaining arm, and Levi knows they won’t be able to throw each other around any longer.
A memory of their early relationship, washed in the sweet warmth of a youthful summer moment returns to him. Sneaking away from duties at summer training camp in favor of a forest clearing, Levi laughing and breathless on top of Erwin with his wings fluttering brilliant and mellow white behind him. Erwin, handsome face young and not nearly as fractured, splayed on his back with bold red wings stretching longer than the length of Levi’s body on either side of him.
Their clothes thrown carelessly elsewhere as they kiss themselves drunk, before Erwin grabs Levi and flips them expertly, both their wings tucking in quickly to accommodate the swift exchange of positions.
Levi’s wings flapping hurriedly as he moans and arches his back into Erwin, whose own wings beat and flap every so often as his feet slide for purchase on the grass and Levi throws his legs around the young captain’s waist.
Now they’re here; twenty years older and fifty times as broken in Levi’s shitty temporary quarters in Stohess.
Erwin takes his turn laying on Levi, his wings sagging tiredly. His breath gusts hot and alive against Levi’s neck, and Levi turns his head to bare his throat more. There’s the ghost of teeth before Erwin bites down fully, sucking a hickey much too high for Levi to cover tomorrow. Levi allows it, though, his wedding ring still warm and sure against him on the chain under his shirt. He can feel the press of Erwin’s own ring from where it’s under the Commander’s shirt, and Levi tries not to think about what it had been like when he had pressed his face against Erwin’s chest and felt it when he’d thought Erwin might not make it.
Those will be nightmares for another time.
Erwin’s lips drag up his neck, kissing across his jaw and erasing every aching memory from mind for now.
“I’ve got you, my dove,” Erwin murmurs against his lips, and Levi shivers at the familiar nickname.
Levi can feel Erwin pressing thick and hot against his thigh and exhales shakily as he cards a hand through his hair. “Angel,” he replies, his pet name that only slips out in their most intimate moments.
They kiss again, messy and hard, as Erwin sneaks his hand up Levi’s shirt to rub Levi’s wedding band between his fingers. He doesn’t need to see the ring to know the words inscribed in the metal below his fingertips. A heart dedicated to Erwin Smith. His own reads something similar. A heart dedicated to Levi Ackerman.
Eventually they shrug off their clothes and fall apart at each other’s hands, breaths gasped against skin and Levi’s hands touching more than enough for the two of them.
They clean up clinically and efficiently, putting themselves back together again. Erwin is secretly pleased to notice that the hickey on Levi’s neck is too high for his collar or cravat to cover, and they head to their shared office to check the stacks of reports they’re sure to have.
An hour into reading the stomach-turning review of their last failed mission, the candles go on and Erwin brings them a pot of tea to share.
Mikasa slips into his and Erwin’s office later that night, and Levi silently draws her into a hug. This is the one concession he will give to any of the brats, this one constant and quiet show of love for his young niece. They’re all they have left of their family, and Levi tries his hardest to let Mikasa know that he will embrace his role of her uncle and honor his sister, his Rei, who he never got to know. Levi will be there for her. He never wants to be like Kenny.
Mikasa huddles against his chest, only just now reaching his height, but Levi knows she’ll surpass him soon. He runs a hand through her silky hair and she steps back with red eyes. Levi touches the end of her scarf and she blushes. “Tch. You need to wash this old thing,” he says, and she nods, but Levi know she won’t. The scarf is a gift from her adoptive brother, that Eren brat. One of his sleek grey skua feathers is tied to the end, along with one of Armin’s sweet yellow canary ones. All of his young recruits had bonded into a proper flock, but none of them seemed as close as those three.
Levi understood the fierce protectiveness she felt towards Eren in particular. The love of siblings was familiar to Levi, remembering his feisty younger siblings Isabel and Farlan and his older sister Rei fondly despite the pain the recollection of their faces caused him. Isabel and Farlan had been so joyful and adventurous, joining the Survey Corps against his wishes and had paid the ultimate price. From what he remembered, Rei was somber and resourceful, but she had run away from him and Kenny after their mother died, leaving Levi alone. He couldn’t bring himself to quite resent her, knowing she was able to live a proper life, learning about their clan history and raising a family, giving Levi the blessing of his niece.
But that which he felt for Erwin was much more deeper than anything he had felt for his family, and Levi gets the sense that Mikasa feels the same way towards Eren. Something deep and electric, loyal beyond words roots itself in the bond Levi shares with Erwin and Mikasa shares with Eren. He doesn’t know if she loves Eren in the same ways Levi feels for Erwin, but she most certainly loves Eren some way.
Her eyes are too mature for someone her age, and Levi feels bitter resentment well up inside him that he couldn’t protect her from suffering the same curse of growing up far too fast that he did.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mikasa says quietly, unconsciously trying to avoid Erwin’s eyes. Levi knows she feels some sort of misplaced guilt that she couldn’t stop them from getting hurt.
“I’m not going to let some fucking Titan kill me,” Levi replies perhaps a little more bluntly than he intended, but Mikasa seems to appreciate it. “And it’s not your fault.”
Mikasa’s blush deepens, and Levi knows he hit the nail on the head. “It’s not your fault, or Hanji’s. It was that bastard Titan’s for trying to take Erwin away, and mine for choosing to throw myself at it blindly with no regard to my safety.”
She offers a short nod, and briefly glances at Erwin.
“Your uncle’s right,” he says simply, and a smile quirks at the corner of Levi’s mouth when Mikasa seems to slump and acquiesce. Her relationship to Erwin is almost funny, as he is not only her Commander, but also her uncle by marriage through Levi. It’s clear she treats him as her superior around the other recruits, but when it’s just the three of them, she treats him as an older family member. It almost feels... normal.
She meets both of their gazes in turn, eyes searching.
“Thank you,” she half-whispers, and Levi ducks his head at her. She pulls her scarf over her chin, and silently returns back to the lower level barracks, leaving Erwin and Levi in the calm silence of the office.
“You’re raising her well,” Erwin says as he stands and rounds the desk to lean against it next to Levi. Levi snorts and shakes his head.
“I’m not raising her, not really. I’m just... here.”
“That’s more than some guardians do,” Erwin says with a raised eyebrow and Levi turns away from him, his heart always dipping painfully into hot silver whenever they even begin to broach this topic. The discussion of children hurts too much.
Levi’s wings spread out, metal tips of his feathers scraping the table.
“I want something I can never have and can never give,” Levi says, meeting Erwin’s look. He thinks about young Eren, that sliver of hope lodged so deeply into him and the flinty edge of wickedly sharp determination that denotes his every move.
“I just want freedom,” Levi admits, voice soft and low.
Out the window, a seagull swoops into view.