Chapter Text
Levi knew from experience that thinking after these sorts of things was an invitation to distraction - you might as well hand yourself to the titans on a silver platter if you started grieving before you got inside the walls. The kid didn’t know that; he was sobbing into his arm on the back of the wagon, Mikasa at his side. Levi decided to give him the space, it was his first, he remembered his first.
The company was nearly back, riding steady, with so many gone in just a few hours. Levi concentrated on the stride of his horse, and the horizon, looking around with his hand on his sword, while Erwin led them home. No titans in sight, but the stench of them was in the air, on their bodies and horses, mingled with the sweat and piss of fear. And blood too, couldn’t forget the scent of blood that rose up around them in a miasma, and overtaking the clean air of the outside. It coated Levi’s teeth, and throat, making him taste metal. He wanted to spit. Mostly, he wanted to bathe, and forget this ever happened, at least for an hour or two. Thank god he had a private bath in that stupid, cold, castle.
The gate rose up above them, a looming symbol of their world, where the privilege of passing through to freedom was earned in the blood of your friends, over and over again, until you felt the teeth of a titan yourself. Levi remembered clearly looking up to pass through it, to see the strange glowing lights that coated the ceiling of the small tunnel. It had felt like being reborn, coming out of the dark, tight, confined womb of the city to see the light of the world. But, as was true with infants and men alike, there was a price. Levi remembered what he’d lost that day. Remembered what he’d lost today. The pain was a knife in his chest, but it was so damn familiar that he could keep riding. He’d lost so many people.
The gate slammed shut, and it felt like the cord was strangling him yet again - the promise of life, sure, but no one mentioned how it was slowly killing all of them. This city wasn’t a womb, it was a tomb, but there was nothing he could do about it now. The garrison did their brief job of locking up, before the company stopped. Those on horseback dismounted for what was usually one of the harder parts of the job - the walk back into town. Levi didn’t look at the jeering faces, staring ahead no matter the result of the mission. Petra always cried as they came back in, the tension of the outside world breaking at some point on the cobbled streets. She’d never cry again.
Levi dismounted, and abruptly found a distraction for his grief, when his leg buckled underneath him. It had been hurting him on horseback, but he thought he’d only strained it. Now, when he tried to support himself, he felt a deep, red hot pain in his bones, making the joints of his ankle, knee and even up to his hip feel like water. He grit his teeth, and pushed through it, testing his leg while holding on to his horse.
“Are you alright, Captain?” asked someone, one of those 104th brats with the golden hair. Krista, he recalled, as he met her concerned eyes.
“Fine,” he growled. “Worry about your squad.”
She nodded, and glanced back at the tall freckled girl she was always all over. Levi let her go, and put his weight on his leg. It held. He walked.
He walked, holding the reins of his horse, and hiding his limping. Erwin kept them moving, but even he looked slumped, in that ‘I still have perfect posture’ sort of way. He wouldn’t show it, but each failure hit him hard.
Levi walked, and concentrated on the pain in his leg, categorizing the muscles that he could feel affected, and not thinking about how Oulo would have broken the tension with some ridiculous antic, or how Gunter would have rolled his eyes at him. Petra would chide him under her breath as they walked beside their horses, and Levi would feel eyes on his back as they all whispered about getting caught with whatever it was they were doing. Then Erd, his second, would meet his eyes and he’d know exactly what they’d all been up to, leaving the rest of them convinced he had black magic to hear what they were saying. It was such a common situation, and Levi would admit that it hurt to think that those times with them were over. He’d mourn them, back in his room. He could wait until then.
Then, a small rambling man came up beside him, and introduced himself as Petra’s father, and dammit dammit dammit family wasn’t supposed to come up to the company on their way back in! Couldn’t he read the mood, or search the crowd, and realize that now wasn’t the time to come up and prattle about letters, and how excited their child was to be working the corps, and marriage? Levi wanted to scream for someone else to come do this, someone instead of him, because how, how could he tell this man that his daughter, who wrote such happy letters with his name in them, wasn’t coming home. She was dead, and gone, on his orders. A necessary sacrifice for the (failed) mission, and he didn’t even have a piece of her to give.
Levi didn’t turn, didn’t blink, didn’t speak. Let the man keep talking, even though every word was a tear in his chest, wounding yet more of his scarred over heart (sometimes it felt like there was more dead tissue than beating organ, but such was his life).
Finally, finally, the man stuttered to a halt, glancing back uncertainly at the company of bloody men and women, before he really looked at Levi’s wooden face.
“Uh, wh-where is Petra? Is she further back?” he turned, and Levi’s hand shot out of its own volition. He grabbed the man’s sleeve, and held him there, until the worried eyes, so like Petra’s, met his own. Around them, the company continued moving forward, like a river splitting around a pair of rocks.
“Mr. Ral,” he said, voice low and even, trying to gain the professionalism that he’d lost in the quick grab. “Survey Corpsman Petra Ral fell bravely in the line of duty. She made the greatest sacrifice for her team, and her actions were… a great benefit to mankind.” Levi stared forward, so he wouldn’t have to see the man’s face fall, his eyes well up, everything that families always did when he told them this news. He’d told so many people that their child or brother or sister was dead.
Mr. Ral bent his head forward, shaking his face back and forth. “I- I was so afraid that’s what you were going to say…” he sobbed, “Forgive me for rambling, trying not to think of the worst - Oh, Petra! What will I tell her mother?”
Levi took a breath, stumbling a little on his leg, before he stepped back and let go of the man’s sleeve. He put his arm behind his back in half the salute.
“I will come with an official letter. Once we get back to headquarters. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Mr. Ral stared at him through wet eyes, and then reached forward to touch him again, grabbing his hand to shake.
“I wasn’t dishonest when I said that Petra respected you. She was so honored to be picked for your team. Thank you, for taking care of her for as long as you did.”
Levi looked at him, and recalled what he’d said to a dying soldier while Petra cried for him.
“She will be an inspiration to me, Mr. Ral. Her memory will give me strength to fight.”
Levi shook his hand, and then pulled away from the man. He was crying again, snotty and sad, and Levi couldn’t say anything more. The man just lost his daughter, and he was thanking him. Tch! Didn’t he know that Levi’s hands were covered in blood, both literal and metaphorical? Didn’t he care that Petra had followed him to her death?
He nodded, and left him there, taking another step forward and wincing, before grabbing onto his horse’s bridle. Shit, his leg was going to be trouble. Damn that female titan, and everything that had happened today.