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The night after Levi had been promoted to Captain, Erwin had called him into his office and reviewed plans. Only the basics – he knew Levi couldn’t be bothered with becoming Erwin. That wasn’t the point of him being promoted.
(“Oh?” Levi had asked coolly in the chair in front of Erwin’s desk, Amos perched on his left hand. “Then why promote me? Sir.”
Erwin had smiled at him, like he knew Levi was full of shit. On his right shoulder, Liesel shifted and fixed Levi with one fierce black eye, the pale orange buff of her belly almost matching Erwin’s hair. “Because you give people hope.”
Levi had scoffed and Erwin had just kept smiling, steady and gentle and eventually Levi had cleared his throat and changed the subject, desperate to get that stupid smile off of Erwin’s face.)
One of those plans was what to do if the survey corps returned without Erwin at it’s head – put a senior member who could be trusted in charge and keep going.
(“It might be…difficult. But you all must act like nothing has changed,” Erwin steeples his fingers together, looking remarkably calm for a man discussing his own, inevitable death. Liesel, still on her shoulder, leaned against his neck, eyes half shut. Under Levi’s hands, Amos has stilled, claws curling into the skin of Levi’s thumb.
Levi rolls his eyes. “It won’t be difficult,” he snaps. “You really think I care that much about you, old man?”
“Yes.” Erwin had quietly.
Levi had gotten up and left the room, Amos taking flight and following out. Outside in the hallway, Levi had curled his hands into fists; they were shaking. Amos, practically a larger version of Liesel, had perched on his shoulder and begun to preen Levi’s hair.
I don’t, Levi had thought, and felt Amos’s utter disbelief radiate back at him. I don’t care. I won’t be affected.
“Sure,” Amos had said out loud in his hoarse, clicking voice.)
If only it was that simple.
*
The survey corps are without a leader as they totter back into the city, Jean and Armin at their head. Levi, braced against the opening wall of the survey corps camp, folds his hands over his chest; they’re shaking too badly to pet Amos.
Amos, for his part, is circling in the air above, distressed but oddly silent – waiting for confirmation. They both are.
As the corps troop through the gate, a pretty blond girl breaks away from the group and heads towards him. He knows her – she’s the one the priest was talking about. Krista Lenz. Her daemon, some sort of insect, looks like a flower against her blond hair.
“Captain,” she says, saluting quickly. Her salute is flawless. Levi wishes it weren’t. “I wanted to tell you – he’s alive.”
Levi swallows.
“What.” He says, voice flat, because Erwin is not at the head of the train. And who else could she be talking about – Eren? No, he’s there, held up by Mikasa and looking faintly stunned.
“The Commander,” Krista says, eyes sympathetic. Levi has never, ever had a new trainee look at him with sympathy before. He wants to hit her. “He’s in the hospital – we sent him ahead, as soon as we entered the city.”
This close, Levi can see that Krista’s daemon is some sort of mantis – the natural pray of Amos. She looks absolutely filthy, like a titan tried to swallow her and only got halfway and he wants to recoil, to yell at her, to hose her down. Instead he asks, struggling to sound in control: “What happened?”
“He lost his arm,” Krista says simply. Nothing else needs to be said.
Amos gives a strange, plaintively beautiful cry – something Levi has never heard him make – and flutters down to perch on Levi’s shoulder, pressing his head against Levi’s neck.
“Let’s go,” he says, pushing away from the gate. His ankle protests, and he ignores it. “I need a full debrief.”
*
It takes too fucking long to debrief, to learn about everything – Eren’s strange new power, the beast titan, that there is no breach (Levi has to leave for that one, has to go scream in an empty room out of frustration, out of relief). About Bertolt, Reiner, and Ymir – people that Levi can never forgive, people that trained under him.
He feels betrayal open up inside of him, a yawning void, and has to leave again to get his emotions under control.
By the time he’s learned everything, the sun is setting and it’s dinnertime; he watches Sasha try to cheer Connie up, her wolverine daemon perched on the bench next to her, Connie’s small dog daemon sitting attentively by his feet.
“Have you gone and seen him?” Hanji asks, setting their tray down next to him. Levi glances at them, takes in their fruit bat daemon, hanging upside down from the strap of Hanji’s glasses, and shakes his head.
“He’ll be asleep by now, probably,” Levi says, stabbing at a potato. Amos, on his shoulder, shuffles his feet. “Probably been asleep all day.”
“I hope so,” Hanji’s tone is glum, their shoulders dropped and Levi sighs and bumps his shoulders against theirs. “With a wound like that…”
“But he’s alive,” and Levi would have never predicted trying to cheer up Hanji; the rolls are usually reversed. “He’s alive, Hanj.”
“Mm,” They agree, picking up their fork. Yori, their daemon, chirps a little and the corners of Hanji’s mouth twitch up; they reach up to pat Yori. Levi knows they’re having a private conversation – Hanji has never been able to hide any of their reactions from him – so he leaves them to it, bussing his tray and retreating to his quarters.
He devotes himself to doing paperwork – paperwork Erwin might not be able to do, depending on which arm he lost – and a few hours pass before he’s interrupted by Amos’s quiet greeting call.
Levi looks up, pen poised over paper, to see Erwin’s daemon, Liesel, dart in through the open window.
There’s blood on her feathers and she’s flying wobbily but she’s here and – without thinking about it, without daring to breath – Levi holds out a hand to her.
She lands in his palm heavily, and he moves until he’s cradling her against his chest, next to his heart, the warmth of her heavy against his skin.
It’s forbidden to touch another’s daemon, though there is no written law against it. The only exception Levi knows about are lovers, or those who are freakishly close – Armin, Eren, and Mikasa seem to share their daemons, touching indiscriminately though Levi has never seen any of them kiss.
Now, cradling Erwin’s daemon against his chest, Levi lets out a low, shaky breath.
“You idiot,” he scolds, petting the top of Liesel’s head and back with a single trembling finger. “You shouldn’t be flying, what if you fell down and got your stupid self lost?”
Liesel regards him with a single imperious eye. She’s as taciturn as Erwin is articulate.
(Sometimes, Levi thinks that Liesel is really his daemon, and Amos is Erwin’s, and they got swapped, somehow. He always stops that line of thought before he can continue with or maybe it was on purpose - )
“I can’t,” Levi swallows, “can’t believe he fucking got his arm chopped off. You fucking assholes.”
“You didn’t come see us,” Liesel says, blunt as ever, her tiny claws digging into his skin.
“I was following the plan,” Levi snaps, bringing her up so she’s level with his face. “The plan he fucking made up – carry on like normal, Levi. Keeping going, Levi. Humanity needs you, Levi.” He sneers the last part. Liesel looks unaffected by almost everything, fierce even when covered with blood, her tiny sword like beak almost brushing his nose.
“Yes, thank you,” Liesel’s voice is strong, despite her tiny body. She sounds impatient. “He misses you.”
“Goody for him,” Levi snaps. “Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten his fucking arm bitten off, then.”
Amos bites him, seizes the skin of Levi’s neck in his beak and pinches down hard and Levi yelps, bats him away; Amos lets go and takes off before Levi can actually touch him.
“Who’s going to be the commander now?” Levi demands, still holding Liesel up with one hand. “Who’s going to lead us now, if not him? You know he can’t, with one arm – if I find out he did it for Eren, I’m going to skin the brat alive. And now who gets to clean up after him, but me? I’m busy, Liesel –”
“Levi,” Liesel interrupts, hopping forward a tiny bit, blood beading beneath her claws. “He thinks he’s broken.”
Levi shuts the fuck up. To his horror, his eyes are hot.
“Well that’s fucking stupid,” he says at least. “He’s not. He’s not.”
Liesel fluffs up her feathers, beak snapping as she opens and shuts it in irritation.
Levi uses his free hand to stroke her feathers again, and she relaxes.
“Tell him that,” she orders. “He doesn’t believe me.” She hops from his hand to his lap and after a minute, Amos joins her. Levi can feel when Amos begins to preen her, his beak shorter and more suited to the job. He falls asleep like that, in his uncomfortable desk chair, two of the things he loves the most in his lap.
*
Here are the reasons people do not trust the survey corps:
1) Their daemons can be separated from them without causing either daemon or human pain, like the witches of old. It’s an open secret that if you join the survey corps, you have to go through what is called the Trial, which makes it so your daemon can be parted from you. If you survive, you become a full member. Most people don’t. It is, as Carla Jaeger heatedly explained to her young, headstrong son, unnatural.
2) The Commander’s daemon and his Captain’s daemon are complimentary. The Commander has a Kingfisher; the Captain, a European Roller. They are, as Armin’s grandfather once explained, stabbing a gnarled finger at the page of one of his forbidden books, in the same family of bird; Coraciiformes.
(“But what does that mean?” Armin, only nine years old, had asked his grandfather. The corps had come back from an expedition earlier that day; Armin had seen Levi’s and Erwin’s daemons, and had asked about it, prompting this discussion.
“Well,” his grandfather had said, stroking his beard. “The kind of daemon you have represents the kind of soul you have.” He pets the head of his own ring tailed lemur daemon; she twines her tail around his leg. “So, the Commander and the Captain have souls that are similar, that work well together. Maybe they’re the same kind of soul, just expressed differently. Or maybe they’re the kinds of souls that work best next to each other; the kind of souls that are meant to share a lifetime together.”
Armin’s daemon, in her favorite shape – an orb spider – rubbed her front legs together.
“But not everyone has to have complimentary daemons to end up together, right?” Armin asks, thinking of himself and Mikasa and Eren – he’s only known them a short time and it is already unthinkable to not have either of them in his life.
“Right,” his grandfather agrees.)
*
Levi visits first thing in the morning, only pausing to bathe, change, and secure food. Liesel had been gone when he woke up – he’s not surprised – and he wonders if she was awake most of the night, if Erwin was awake most of the night. It’s never clear to Levi how much Erwin picks up from Liesel and vice versa; some people are more in touch with their daemons than others.
Erwin is in a fancier hospital, as he is a Commander, so Levi saddles his horse and rides through the Sina gate, Amos flying above him.
“Look alive, idiots,” he snaps at the Garrison forces when they don’t salute him properly; they snap to attention and Levi rolls his eyes and slows his horse to a trot.
He hates Sina, hates the toxic culture of greed and corruption, hates the affected accents and luxury when people are starving – part of him will forever be the kid from the underground. But what he hates the most are the whispers about Amos.
It’s different than the whispers about all Survey Corps daemons, about the Trial, and Levi understands those whispers, had whispered the same sort of things behind his hands to Farlan and Isabel. But these whispers – these are about Amos, and Liesel, and Erwin, and Levi will not stand for that.
He also doesn’t have time, so he ignores them, heads directly to the hospital and gives the reins of his mare to an aide before marching up to the front desk. The attendant, a pretty woman with a wildcat daemon, directs him to the second floor; the second floor attendant, a man with a raven daemon, leads him to a private room.
“Erwin,” Levi breathes as he shuts the door behind him. Erwin is asleep, Liesel on her side in the center of his chest, tiny claws curled and drawn up close to her body. Erwin’s right arm is now a stump that ends right below his shoulder, the bandages fresh but faintly crimson. He’s obviously in pain; his jaw is clenched, even in sleep, and his brows are drawn together in a frown.
Levi can’t stop himself; he touches Erwin’s face, callused fingers, so sure when wielding his blades, shaking now as they touch skin. He tries to smooth away the wrinkles furrowing Erwin’s brow, drags his fingers down the bridge of his nose, over his lips and then along his jawline.
Halfway through this, Erwin opens his eyes. He smiles under Levi’s fingers and Levi can’t stop touching him, runs his hands down Erwin’s neck, touching the scar left by Levi’s blade, so many years ago.
“Levi,” Erwin’s voice is hoarse. His stump twitches and he winces, and Levi reaches over and grabs his left hand; Erwin clutches at him, squeezing tight.
Amos hopes from Levi’s shoulder to Erwin’s, begins preening Erwin’s hair and there’s an expression of…wonder on Erwin’s face, wonder that quickly replaces the pain.
Levi can feel it, like a vibration inside his chest, can feel Amos grooming Erwin. Liesel, awake now, flutters to Levi’s shoulder and for a minute all he can do is stare at Erwin, helpless, their fingers intertwined.
“You came,” Erwin says, uncharacteristically expressive and Levi squeezes his hand harder, doesn’t know what to say.
“You got your arm bitten off,” he snaps, and Erwin smiles sadly at him, a tiny, self-deprecating movement that Levi never wants to see again. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know,” Erwin agrees. They don’t say anything, but Erwin is still holding Levi’s hand and this is the most they’ve ever touched in seven years, this is the most tender touch Levi has ever felt.
A muscle in Erwin’s jaw jumps, and Levi swallows.
He knows what Erwin is thinking – he can’t be a soldier with only one arm. He can’t kill titans with only one arm. If he can’t kill titans, he can’t lead the survey corps. As a soldier, he’s broken, he’s useless. Oh, Erwin can – and probably will – become a politician, working to get more funding for the corps, working to curry favor with the wealthy and the influential. But as a commander? He’s done. He’s a liability in the field now, and with Krista and Eren to protect, they can’t spare more men on him. They’ve lost too many, as it is.
Everything Erwin has done, he’s done for humanity. Everything Levi’s done, he’s done for Erwin.
“You’re not useless,” he announces, voice acidic even to his own ears. “So don’t fucking think that. Don’t even start.”
Erwin’s hand twitches in his, like he wants to let go and Levi holds on tighter, his eyes fixed on Erwin’s.
“Humanity’s strongest,” Erwin says, of all things to say. Levi detests the nickname, flinches a bit and Erwin’s mouth twitches again. Then he changes the subject. “You followed the plan.”
Levi shrugs, doesn’t think he needs to say it’s what you wanted. “Laying here, like this –” Erwin breaks off, clearly frustrated. “It’s the perfect for planning,” he finishes. “So: what information do you have for me?”
“What?” Levi demands. “No. Erwin, you have to recover first.”
Erwin’s face hardens. “This is humanity’s chance,” he says stubbornly. “I have to plan, for humanity to have a chance against the Titans, against the enemies within our own walls –”
“No way,” Levi is glaring, now, but his scowl has never worked on Erwin. “I didn’t come here to plan.”
“Levi, you took an oath to Humanity, to protect it –”
“You are humanity,” Levi yells.
Erwin goes silent.
Levi has never seen him like this, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, and maybe it’s because Erwin is on a lot of painkillers, or maybe it’s because he’s never heard anything so ridiculous, but he’s looking at Levi like he’s never seen Levi before, and Levi looks away.
“Liesel landed on my hand, yesterday,” he says after a long pause.
“I know,” Erwin tells him. “I could feel it.”
It’s been six years, maybe seven, Levi hasn’t been able to keep track and he still has so many questions, questions that bloomed the day Erwin slammed him into the mud and Levi noticed Erwin’s daemon looked so similar to his own. “Erwin,” he says, voice cracking like it hasn’t in at least ten years. “This is why, isn’t it? Why people whisper, why our daemons are complimentary, why you found me and gave me everything I wanted – “ what does he say? Life, outside the walls and above ground? Wings? Sunshine on his face? Freedom? “This is why.” He makes it into a statement, not a question because he knows now, and he knows what people say about them is true – they’ve always been meant to be, in one way or another, to fight alongside each other, to share each other’s lives.
Maybe we’re the same soul, he thinks.
“You are humanity,” Levi repeats. “To me.”
“Levi,” Erwin breathes and Levi has to look at him then. Erwin’s gaze is hot and reverent, and he brings Levis’ hand up to his mouth, shifting until he’s kissing Levi’s palm, eyelids fluttering shut.
Levi breathes.