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It wasn’t Hange’s fault, but it was the first time in recent memory that Erwin Smith had found himself growing deeply and truly distressed. That what had caused his anguish was an offhanded statement rather than, say, the recent deaths of the men he commanded sent a spike of guilt through Erwin’s gut. No, it wasn’t that he didn’t mourn their deaths, that he didn’t feel the weight of them growing ever heavier on his back. It was that Hange’s simple words, coming out of nowhere, had ripped the scab off of a festering wound that would never truly heal.
“How do we know that there aren’t any humans outside the Walls?”
It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard that same thing murmured by younger recruits before, or even on occasion those higher in the ranks. It wasn’t that those same words hadn’t haunted his nightmares for over a decade. It was the way she had said it, so childlike and full of innocent excitement at the very idea while sounding exactly as Erwin had all those years ago. It was how her eyes had sparkled behind her glasses in the exact same way his father’s had when he had discussed his theories with a much younger Erwin.
Those were what had broken him.
He was proud of himself, at least, for not outwardly reacting. The gently stoic mask he wore in public hadn’t slipped. Instead he finished his beer, excused himself from the table, and calmly strode back to his room. No one seemed to notice anything wrong as Mike and Nanaba had gone on bickering with Hange about something entirely unrelated to the question that had speared ice into Erwin’s heart. Maybe Levi, who had glanced up as Erwin left, but the shorter man hadn’t made any other movement, so perhaps not.
Erwin had made it into his room, gotten the door closed behind him, and then promptly lost the past few hours worth of beer and dinner in his washbasin, sides heaving as his body desperately tried to expel the poison that had made it feel so nauseous. Unfortunately for it, memories couldn’t be vomited up to be washed away later as if nothing had happened.
Sinking to his knees, Erwin had pressed his forehead against the stand the basin was balanced on, where he sat still, the sweet-sour stink of his own bile slowly permeating the air. Every muscle was so tight he felt they might rip if he tried to move, his hands shaking so violently he thought the bones might fall right out of them.
What a morbid thought. Managing a strained, barking laugh at his own morbidity, Erwin slowly forced himself to his feet, forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed, then allowed himself to collapse in on himself until his head was in his hands, elbows perched precariously on his knees.
“We don’t know, Erwin, any more than we know that the world is flat. In fact, there are some fairly compelling arguments to say that it’s not!” Father had said, holding up an apple as a visual example. “Imagine, a whole world out there– I simply can’t believe we’re all that’s left of humanity.”
Candlelight flickered over the man’s kind face, highlighting his intelligent gaze framed by slowly deepening crows feet beneath bushy eyebrows that had been passed along to his son. Erwin didn’t mind the teasing they caused from other students, however. He liked looking like his dad and hoped that, as he grew, he might someday look so much like someone people could trust. Everyone in town respected his father, held high in esteem the man who taught their children so well.
“Why not, Father?” Erwin had pressed eagerly, leaning forward over the dining room table.
“Because…”
“...isn’t it strange how there are no records, no memories, from just roughly one hundred years ago, when the Walls were built?” Erwin parroted, throat raw from vomiting, voice tight with pain. “There’s barely been enough time for two, maybe three generations to pass. That’s not enough time for something so huge to be forgotten. We must have been made to forget.”
Even after all this time, the words were so clear to him. That night stood out in his memory like a burning brand, despite events before or after growing foggy over time. His father’s voice, so strong from years of lecturing, had been filled with a kind of almost wild delight at finally getting the chance to share something so powerful with his son.
His idiot son, who hadn’t thought to keep his mouth shut or to wonder why his father had waited until they were alone to say such things. His fool son, who spoke freely with his friends in excitement about the clandestine ideas. His damned son, who brought down the wrath of MPs on his father’s head.
Slowly, Erwin fell back against his mattress, gripping the topmost blanket tight in his fists. Some small part of him wished that he could be like Hange, excitedly chattering about theories realistic and absurd with anyone who would listen. The little boy who might have done so died the day he laid flowers on his father’s grave, leaving behind an aching hole deep in Erwin’s chest that could some days be forgotten but never filled or healed.
Closing his eyes, the squad leader pictured himself back then, small and round faced with the foolish innocence of youth. Try as he might, though, he couldn’t bring himself to hate that little boy. It hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t known. He shouldn’t have had to know. What kind of twisted world did they live in that flights of fancy could end with corpses?
Erwin knew, now, what kind of world that was. Had seen first hand as young men and women were sent out to die while the men who gave the orders sat back and grew fat. Had found himself drawn into that world, strangled and suffocated by its corruption even as he fought to push forward. But.
But maybe he was wrong. Maybe that little boy who dared to question wasn’t dead after all. Strangely feeling as if something tight within his chest was loosening, Erwin’s eyes snapped open to stare at the ceiling.
Why had he joined the Scouts to begin with? On the face of it, it was an obvious choice: an orphan with few other options, a dwindling amount of money his father had set aside, and a desire to push humanity forward as his father had, only teaching wasn’t enough for Erwin. He needed something more physical, more tangible. He needed to see and touch and smell the threat first hand. He needed to be able to do something real.
He had always assumed he was fighting to save humanity, to try and bring back some rightness to the world, but that was too noble, wasn’t it? That didn’t sound like him, the man who could easily fake a smile as his superiors spoke casually over wine about the deaths of scouts they had never known at the hands of Titans they would never see. No, Erwin Smith wasn’t some savior sent with a righteous sword to lead humanity to a new future.
A shaky laugh of disbelief slipped out of his lips as he abruptly realized the real reason he had walked down his chosen path. For a supposedly intelligent man, it seemed he could be astonishingly stupid. Or, perhaps, the trauma had affected him more deeply than he would ever want to admit, obscuring something so central yet painful behind layers of unconscious denial. It was probably both.
The true reason he wanted to reclaim the lands beyond the Walls was because he wanted to prove his father right. He wanted to shove the evidence of it in the faces of the men who had had his parent killed, rub their noses in it until they choked. It was an entirely selfish reason and he didn’t have to lie to himself any more. He didn’t have to pretend to be better than he was.
Bizarrely, Erwin suddenly felt lighter. Laying on his bed, he realized he was breathing easier.
“I’m a selfish bastard,” he murmured out loud and laughed again.
“Well, obviously. Are you just now realizing that?” a sardonic voice asked from the vicinity of his window.
Erwin didn’t bother being surprised. “You do know people normally knock, Levi? Or better yet, use the door?”
“You locked it and I didn’t want to bother picking the lock.” The mattress sank slightly as the shorter man moved to perch at the end of it.
“Are your boots on my bed?”
“Tsk. I’m not a fucking barbarian. Besides, it’s dangerous to climb with shoes on, idiot.”
Turning his head, Erwin was mildly shocked to see Levi’s bare feet resting on the comforter, his toes scuffed with dirt from climbing the brick walls outside. Looking up, he saw Levi’s cheeks were faintly flushed from the chill of being out in the fall air, as if he had been waiting to enter rather than just popping in. It indicated a level of concern, mixed with a combination of not wanting to invade privacy where he wasn’t wanted, that touched Erwin deeply. What had he done to deserve a friend like Levi?
“You done freaking out?” Levi asked after a few moments of hawklike staring down at Erwin. “Because Four-eyes is probably on her way to apologize. I told her to give you some time, but you know how well she listens to good advice.”
“Hange?” Erwin slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Apologize for what?”
“Don’t play dumb, it makes me want to punch you,” his friend replied, no real venom in his words. “Did you think we didn’t notice when you went all weird? We’re not shitheads like our superiors. We know when you’re pretending.”
Erwin stared at Levi in surprise, which admittedly wasn’t all that new. The smaller man was constantly revealing new depths to himself, proving time and again that he was more than simply a thief turned deadly soldier. Erwin found himself wondering that, even if they both survived to be old men, he would ever fully understand his friend.
“Mike and Nanaba agreed to check in on you tomorrow, but certain people were certain it was what they said that upset you,” Levi moved to sit cross legged, getting more comfortable, Erwin noticed. “Though I can’t imagine any of her shitty theories being enough to upset you this much. I told her it was more likely her breath finally poisoned you.”
Unable to hold back a chuckle, Erwin pushed his hair back and off of his sweaty forehead. Despite how much he trusted Levi, the revelation he had just had felt still too tender and new to share. “I think I must have had a bad batch of beer, that’s all.”
Levi caught his gaze and held it for a long moment… before his shoulders relaxed as he gave his captain a subtle nod. “Or you’re just getting too old to hold your alcohol anymore.”
“Thanks,” Erwin grunted, moving to pull off his boots. He felt like he had been thrown several yards by a Titan’s fist, yet somehow the lightness buoyed his movements enough that he didn’t grit his teeth as he yanked off the first one.
“You know you sound like a fucking cat with a hairball when you throw up, only worse?” Levi added helpfully.
“ Thanks ,” Erwin said again, wondering whether it was too late to take back the fond feelings he had felt towards his friend moments earlier.
“Erwin!” Hange burst into the room, as it seemed she struggled to enter with anything less than dramatic flair. “I’m sorry, I tried to wait like Levi suggested, but–” She gasped and pointed an accusatory finger at the man already seated on Erwin’s bed. “Hey! You said he needed time!”
“I gave him time,” Levi replied calmly as Erwin wrestled off his second boot.
“And why are you barefoot?”
“None of your business, idiot.”
“Wait,” Erwin interrupted the argument before it could gain speed. “Levi, you said my door was locked.”
Receiving nothing but a blank look as a response, Erwin chalked it up to Levi not wanting to be seen hovering outside his door. Not that more questions wouldn’t have been raised if anyone spotted him hovering outside the window, but Erwin was too worn out to dwell on it.
“Erwin, were you sick?” Hange asked, looking over to the washbasin and wrinkling her nose. “Do you need me to get a doctor?”
“No, but thank you,” Erwin shrugged off his jacket, finally feeling a little more comfortable. “I’m sorry that I caused you to worry, Hange. I think I may have eaten something that disagreed with me.”
“Next time, don’t try to hide it! We’ve all thrown up in that back alley,” she replied easily, though Erwin could see she didn’t entirely buy his explanation. For once, she let a mystery go.
“Some of us like to not be seen as degenerate shitheads who throw up where someone else will have to clean it,” Levi sniped back.
Erwin closed his eyes, listening to the familiar bickering with a small smile on his lips. Some things never changed, and in a world where nothing was certain there was no small amount of comfort in that.
“--calling me a–” Hange’s voice trailed off as she looked away from her verbal sparring partner to the other occupant of the room. “...Is he asleep?”
Levi glanced over and saw that Erwin was, indeed, fast asleep with his head lolling against the headboard.
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” he grumbled as he slid off the bed with catlike grace. With a strength belied by his thin frame, Levi swiftly tucked his captain in.
“Hey,” Hange crept up closer, eyes wide behind her glasses. “What do you think he’s smiling about?”
“Not your shitty B.O., that’s for sure, back up,” Levi groused, going to grab the wash basin to wash it out.
As the two departed his room, Erwin sighed softly and snuggled down deeper under the covers. For once in a very long time, he slept deeply and dreamlessly.