Work Text:
It had been nearly a year since it had happened.
Levi Ackerman had popped into your lap as suddenly as a windblown from the sea. You’d heard about temporal distortions before; how they were supposed to be these magical things that whisked you away into a life filled with happiness. Into a life with the soulmate you were supposed to spend the rest of your days with.
That hadn’t happened to you.
It wasn’t anything like the movies. Or the songs. Or the books. Or any piece of media that had latched onto the physics-defying anomaly that were soulmates. No, in fact, it was wholly terrifying and a little awful.
You had lived all your life in Harrisburg, Maine. It was a little town that was just lucky enough to have its own Walmart but unlucky in everything else. There were barely any jobs and most traveled from the quiet of the town to the bustle of bigger places for work. The only steadfast companion that your home had was the sea, its rocky beaches and beautiful views drew tourists each season, but not enough to fund any real work. Would-be tourist guides swept in each summer and swept back out just as quickly when the work dried up. So, it was no surprise that not a single person in town had any sort of experience with soulmates. After Levi arrived, the SRS quickly stepped in.
You had to admit that they were formidable. No wonder why so much of your taxes went to the agency each year--it was almost scary how easily they found you.
“Tracked the temporal distortion,” the lady in the lab coat had said, “Just here to help.”
They had helped. They had helped so thoroughly, in fact, that you had been taken from your comfortable apartment to a wholly new one made up more for newlyweds than two people who had just met each other. At least you’d been able to stay in your hometown. Online, you had read about people being transported halfway across the country for better observation, but the people at the SRS had assured you that it wasn’t necessary for your case.
And what about your case? What was so special or, perhaps, unremarkable about it?
For God’s sake, Levi had appeared in a literal puddle of blood in the middle of your workplace. Wasn’t that cause for concern?
This poor man. He didn’t talk about where he was from often, hell, he didn’t talk very often at all, but you got the sense he’d seen much.
Nearly a year living in the same space as him and you barely knew anything about him. Levi was supposed to be your soulmate but you were afraid that the bond was breaking, or worse, had never formed in the first place.
It was strange how well he’d taken to being in a whole new world, a whole new universe, it was as if he’d been expecting it. You don’t know why but that scared you. It scared you how adaptable he was. He shouldn’t be. He was.
Your eyes scan the Wikipedia page on soulmates for any hint of help. Broken bonds weren’t as uncommon as you’d like them to be. It was a running theory that the San Francisco earthquake of 1906 was caused by a broken soulmate bond: Earthquakes, tornadoes, fires, hurricanes, all of it was thought to be caused by two soulmates who hadn’t, well, been soulmates. So much death, it sent a cold fear rolling up your spine. Surely, by now, the bond would have already deteriorated?
Levi slept beside you. Sleeping was a loose term for him as each night he only slept a handful of hours. Nightmares, you knew it was the nightmares. Whatever he had experienced caused him to wake up with a start each time. You had tried to talk to him about it but he had steadfastly insisted that it was nothing and to go back to sleep. Begrudgingly, you had, but when you were moved into this new housing you had insisted that you at least share a bed. Levi allowed it, but only under the guise that it would save space.
So here you were, roles reversed, him seemingly peaceful beside you as you fretted over whether or not you should call the SRS and warn them that you might have royally fucked up--
“Hey,” the word cuts so swiftly through the stagnant night air that you nearly jump out of your skin, “What are you doing?” From the corner of your eyes, you can see Levi peek at you over his shoulder. His back was turned from you, attempting to block out the light from your laptop as it sat perched on your legs. Your eyes moved to the clock in the corner of the screen. It was nearly three in the morning.
“I’ll go to bed…” You sigh, aiming to close the laptop and put it away, but Levi is quick to flip over. His reflexes were good, way too good, and the inhuman speed at which he moved sometimes put you on edge. It wasn’t because he was faster than any person you’d ever met, but because you didn’t know why . Why did he need to be so fast? What had happened to--
His hand stops you from closing your computer completely. Even in the darkness of the room, you can see the glimmer in his eyes. It was the same intelligent glimmer you’d seen whenever he managed to figure something out. The same look he gave whenever he caught you in a lie, not that you lied to Levi often; there was no need to, he would probably figure it out regardless.
“What are you looking at?” the way his voice is warm and rusted from sleep makes your heart do things it physically shouldn’t be able to do. Levi was a quick learner. He’d figured out what computers did and what the internet was within the first week of being here. He still hated phones, though, after finding out how dirty they could get he had resolved not to use one. You had silently agreed, but only because it would make the bill cheaper. So, it was no surprise when he opened your laptop back up again, dark eyes that are even darker in the unlit room roaming over the screen.
You know you’re in trouble almost as soon as his brow pinches, probably a little bit before then.
“ Tch, ” His eyes go to your face, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. You ready yourself to be admonished but it doesn’t come, instead, you catch something else there. There’s a look in his eyes that almost makes you second guess yourself, something akin to hurt. “Go to sleep.” The words are like a cold spike through your chest. Had you wanted him to get mad? To show that he cared? To disagree with your line of thinking?
You’re not too sure of yourself anymore. Regardless, you shut the laptop all the way and stow it on your bedside table. The room seems large and ominous in the complete darkness especially with Levi, this man you wish you could know more about, silent beside you. It made you wish for your old apartment, a brick and mortar place that had existed above a defunct candy shop. After several years of bad luck, the business had closed down, but the old lady who had used to run the place opened up the second story as an apartment to make money while in retirement.
She'd been as nice as a landlord could possibly be, especially in this economy; however, when Levi arrived, the SRS had swept the two of you away, claiming that your current home wasn’t up to code and not authorized for more than one person to live in. So here you both were, in an apartment that felt more cavernous than livable. It put you on edge. You had to guess that Levi felt the same way unless he was used to living like this?
You had never asked.
Dragging answers out of Levi was more like pulling teeth. Not for him, but for you. You got the sense that he didn’t want to talk about it. That he wanted to forget. After that first day he barely mentioned where he was from, but you knew it had been a horrible place, a place that had left him staring into space sometimes, a place that made him unable to sleep, that woke him with horrible dreams, that had scarred him deeply.
In the darkness, you turn your eyes to the figure in your bed that is him. He’s still, with his back turned to you again. Was he lying there awake like you were?
You turn over and go to sleep.
Morning light greets you through the curtains of the bedroom. Last night is barely a memory at this point, your anxiety forgotten with the sun only to rise once again alongside the stars. It was like a record ever on repeat, waiting for you to lay your head down on your pillow so that it could play its awful melody once again. You shift to sit up in bed, thankful that today is your day off from work, or else your lack of actual rest would be detrimental to your job. Levi is not at your side--which isn’t a surprise--and by now he’s probably on his morning walk after having drunk his cup of tea.
It was one of the few habits of his you understood; drinking tea. You’d bought him every possible brand and flavor you could get your hands on. To your chagrin, he barely touched anything besides the regular black. What you didn’t understand was why he held his cup in such a way. Was it to keep things from falling in? You would ask but you were too afraid to trip over an unwanted memory. There were a million things you wanted to ask, a million facts about your soulmate that you would like to know, but all of it seems wrapped up in something big and painful. It’s like he’s bruised all over and touching him just makes it worse.
You rise to begin your morning routine, thoughts still muddled and hazy, though you distantly hear the front door open. It’s probably Levi arriving back early from his walk, something that isn’t unusual but is still uncommon. Regardless, you’re too tired to think over it too much. He would probably stay away from you like he usually does, either reading quietly or watching the news on TV, after that he would probably clean, keeping your apartment almost spotless. His mannerisms were more like that of a grandfather than a man his age. And how old was he really? He had to be in his late twenties at the least-
The bedroom door opens as you finish up in the bathroom. Your brow furrows, did Levi have to use the restroom? Your apartment held two of them, and he was more likely to use the one outside the bedroom than not. You peek your eyes through the crack in the door, only to find him waiting just outside the threshold.
“Turd won’t come out?” His voice is so deadpan that you almost want to answer it as a fact.
You shake your head, opening the door all of the way now to reveal that you had only been putting on deodorant. “What?”
He folds his arms. Today he had chosen a simple, dark long-sleeved shirt and basic jeans. Getting him clothes had been a hassle. He had been particular about what he wanted to wear. Nothing with logos or “obnoxious” colors, Levi had even resisted denim at first but had finally caved when winter had rolled around. Then, as if they had personally hurt him, he’d taken scissors to the tags of all his clothes. But that was beside the point, Levi was saying something.
“--Take you with me.”
You blink, lifting your eyes from the small amount of chest you could see because of his shirt’s sharp v-neck. “Wait, repeat that?”
A frown twitches onto his lips for a brief moment but is replaced by his ever-impressive look of mild disdain. “I found someplace on my walk. I want to take you with me.”
Oh, his daily walks. You had always wanted to ask where he was going, what he did while he was on them, but it seemed something personal and you didn’t want to stifle his exploration of his new home.
“Oh,” You blink, startled mostly that he even wanted to leave the apartment with you, “Yeah, I’d like that. When? Where?”
Levi seems to visibly relax. You didn’t think he ever did. The tension in his shoulder slips away. Had he been nervous? Were the corners of his lips pointing up, just a little bit? “Later tonight. Wear something …. Nice.”
… Was Levi trying to take you on a date?
You dress as nice as you can. It’s simple, mostly because you don’t know how nice you should dress. Was it a five-star restaurant? A park? Or maybe he was taking you out to dance? You couldn’t know with Levi. What was his version of a fancy date? The more you thought about it the more you regret your decision. Would you be over or underdressed?
“Hey,” Levi tones from beyond the bathroom door. You had locked yourself in to get ready and only now did you realize that you had been “getting ready” for the better part of an hour. “If you don’t hurry up, we’ll be late.” You swallow around your anxiety, stepping out of your shared bathroom and back into the bedroom once more.
Levi looks, well, nice. He doesn’t look fancy, no, but he’s in one of his more expensive shirts. It’s white, buttoned up to his neck with a … what was that thing? It looked old fashioned. A cravat? That was certainly a fashion statement.
You realize, belatedly, that Levi hasn’t said anything to you. He hasn’t even made a comment about taking a shit. Your face heats as you realize he’s taking you in just as you are him. Your fingers tug at yourself, trying to fix your outfit as best you can under his gaze.
“Ready?” And Levi holds out his hand.
You take it.
Levi insists on walking you to your location. It only occurs to you later that he must have spotted it on his daily walks, that you were potentially taking the same path that he had every day when he went out by himself.
All the same, the Legion Hall is a bit of a surprise. It was an old building, the type of non-place that didn’t stick out to someone too much as they passed by it, but it must have meant something to Levi, because he takes you inside without waiting for the inevitable questions on your lips.
Inside there are, what could only be described as, schoolroom lunch tables that sit in neat rows down the middle of the building. Maybe you were right, maybe this had been some sort of preschool at one point, because the floors are an all too shiny light-colored wood. If you strained your eyes hard enough you could see the remnants of the lines that once marked this as a basketball court.
All the same, there are small groups of men and women gathered inside. Light music flows out of dampened speakers, it’s dim, with only one or two bulbs working in each strip that hangs from the ceiling. On the walls hang accolades to past wars, pictures of soldiers that may have never come home, and medals of people who may no longer be around. There is a counter where customers can order snacks, a letterboard hanging over it with simple things such as hot dogs and soda for sale.
You look to Levi, wondering how he thought this place was relaxing, it filled you with a sense of … something lost.
But then you see his face.
You must have registered it at some point in all the time you had known him, but Levi had always held some sort of tension. His very body had always been taught like a bow, ready to strike or jump at a moment’s notice; now it did not seem so. It seemed as if it had all gone out of him. The stress. The very air in his lunges.
He was smiling the smallest smile you had ever seen, but it was there.
It all hit you like a brick falling from the top of the empire state building. Levi was a soldier. Had been a soldier in his previous life. His previous world.
He takes you to sit down. The lunch table squeaks as you take your seat, the wood straining to hold any kind of weight. You don’t mind it, your eyes focused on the way that Levi’s are actually filled with light.
“I know this isn’t the best place for a date,” He finally says after what feels like hours. You hadn’t been paying attention, at some point an off-brand soda had been sat in front of you. “But I-”
“You feel comfortable here.”
Levi lapses into silence for a few moments, holding the can of soda between his palms. He wasn’t going to drink it, he hated soda, said it made it feel like his teeth were going to fall out. In fact, he only liked small amounts of sugar. Slowly, you’re beginning to piece it together.
“...Yes…” He finally says, pushing the soda to the side. “It reminds me of home.”
“Home for you is …” You hesitate to say it, it felt like ashes in your mouth to admit it. The fierce sense of melancholy that seemed to hover over Levi at any given moment, the look in his eyes sometimes, the way he was silent more than he spoke. “... is war?”
It hangs in the air for too long, so long that you think of giving him an apology but he eventually speaks once more. “I come here almost every day. These people … are the only ones that understand.” You suddenly feel a ping of guilt for even thinking of judging this place.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
More silence. His eyes travel away from you, his hair sweeping into his face for a brief second before he tucks it back into place. “No. I don’t think I’ll ever tell you all of it. No one, not in this world or mine, wants the whole truth.” You force your lips not to slip into a frown, and your brow not to crease in worry, “But I can tell you that there was never a point in my life when I wasn’t fighting; for survival, for justice, for ideals, it didn’t matter. I was always fighting and… It feels strange. To not fight anymore. But here, at least people remember those who fought.”
That had probably been the most Levi had ever said to you. About anything.
Your hands reach out, grasping his fingers between yours. “I may never fully understand. I want to, but I probably won’t.” You give him a thin smile as his eyes finally meet yours again, “But I want to support you, at least, in getting used to not fighting. Even if the feeling never goes away for real.”
His fingers clasp your’s back.
“I’d like that too.”