Chapter Text
Levi shifted uncomfortably as the manacles clinked against his wrists, his mind buzzing with bitterness. He wasn’t used to the sunlight here—too bright, too unforgiving against his pale skin. The burn of it on his face and arms felt almost like punishment in itself, as if the world outside the Underground was telling him he didn’t belong here. It had only been weeks since Erwin and Mike had captured him, dragging him from the familiar shadows of the Underground City and forcing him into the regimented life of the Survey Corps. Every day since then had been nothing short of hell.
Levi never imagined he’d be in this position—handcuffed, treated like an animal. They hadn’t even given him proper quarters. At night, he was locked away in a small, windowless cell, with cold stone walls pressing in on him. And the soldiers? They never let him forget what he was. “Criminal,” they called him. “Thief.” “Rat from the Underground.” Their sneers cut deeper than any physical chain, and Levi’s hatred for them burned hotter with each passing day.
His hatred for Erwin and Mike was something else entirely. Mike had been the one to capture him—rough, wordless, and efficient. Levi hadn’t stood a chance, not against someone as formidable as Mike. Erwin, on the other hand, was cold and calculating, his blue eyes always assessing, as if Levi were nothing more than a project. He spoke with authority, every word clipped and precise, each command feeling like a sentence in itself.
The conscription had been forced. No choice. No trial. No options. Levi knew he couldn’t escape it—yet.
Now, as the day dragged into sunset, Levi felt the weight of exhaustion. Mike stood nearby, his towering figure a constant reminder of Levi’s captivity. Training was mandatory, even if it was clear to everyone that Levi had no intention of being a real soldier. They didn’t care, though. Every day, they put him through grueling exercises, and every day, Levi’s hatred festered a little more.
“Again,” Mike ordered in his deep, gravelly voice.
Levi grit his teeth, sweat dripping down his neck as he pushed through another set of exercises. His muscles burned with the effort, but what hurt more was the knowledge that no matter how hard he worked, they would never let him forget what he was.
The looks from the other soldiers made him feel sick. Some were disgusted with him, eyes full of contempt whenever they passed by. He heard the comments, whispered behind his back but loud enough that he knew they were meant for him.
“There goes the rat,” one said, snickering.
“They should’ve left him in the Underground,” said another.
But those weren’t the worst of them. Some of the soldiers looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl, their gazes lingering too long on his slender frame and delicate features. They whispered too, but their words were lower, dripping with a vile kind of intent.
“He’s pretty for a criminal,” one muttered.
Levi wanted nothing more than to break their faces, to show them that no matter how small he was, he was far from defenseless. But the handcuffs, always biting into his wrists, held him back. And he knew the consequences if he tried to fight—worse punishments, solitary confinement, maybe even death. He couldn’t afford that, not yet. Not until he could escape for good.
That was the thought that kept him going: escape. Every moment, every breath was spent calculating how he could get away. They couldn’t keep him caged forever. He was too quick, too clever. He just needed the right opportunity.
Mike’s eyes were on him, cold and watchful as always. Levi could feel the weight of his stare as he continued training. It was late, nearing sunset, and Levi knew that soon enough, they’d lock him up again for the night. His wrists ached from the constant pressure of the cuffs, but he refused to show weakness. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
“Focus,” Mike growled when he noticed Levi’s attention wavering.
Levi’s glare was sharp as he straightened his stance, forcing himself through another exercise. Mike watched him like a hawk, always ready to pounce if Levi so much as twitched in the wrong direction.
Just as the tension reached its peak, a soldier approached Mike with urgency, breaking the silence of the field.
“Captain Zacharias,” the soldier called out, “there’s something you need to see. It’s urgent.”
Mike frowned, clearly irritated by the interruption. “What is it?” he demanded.
The soldier muttered something under his breath, and Mike’s expression darkened. Levi caught the frustration in his eyes. He couldn’t leave Levi unsupervised, not with the boy’s reputation. Everyone knew Levi was just waiting for a chance to escape, and Mike wasn’t about to give him that.
Mike’s gaze swept the training grounds, and his eyes landed on Flagon, one of the officers responsible for overseeing the newer recruits.
“Flagon!” Mike called, his voice booming across the field.
Flagon looked up from where he was berating a group of soldiers, his expression one of clear annoyance. “What now?” he grumbled, strolling over lazily.
“I need you to keep an eye on the brat until I get back,” Mike said, his voice curt. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”
Flagon gave an exaggerated sigh, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve got my hands full, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t run off.”
Mike seemed reluctant, but the urgency of the situation pulled him away. Before he left, he tossed the keys to Levi’s handcuffs to Flagon, who caught them with little care, tucking them into his pocket without a second thought.
Levi’s heart raced. He watched as Mike disappeared from view, his mind already whirring with plans. This was it. This was his chance.
Flagon was already distracted, his attention focused on the other soldiers he was reprimanding. Levi’s eyes flicked to the keys, and he knew what he had to do. Slowly, carefully, he began to adjust his stance, pretending to continue training as he inched closer to Flagon.
The officer wasn’t paying him any mind, too busy shouting at a group of recruits. Levi’s hands twitched in anticipation. With a quick, practiced motion, his fingers slipped into Flagon’s pocket and retrieved the keys. His heart pounded, but his face remained impassive. He tucked the keys up his sleeve and resumed his training stance, acting as though nothing had changed.
It didn’t take long for someone to notice.
One of the soldiers—a tall, bulky man with a nasty smirk—spotted Levi’s movements and called out, “Hey! The brat’s got the keys!”
Flagon spun around, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “You little thief,” he growled, advancing toward Levi with an expression of fury.
Levi backed away, his heart hammering in his chest. The bulky soldier tried to grab him, but Levi was too quick. In one swift movement, he kicked the man’s leg, sending him stumbling. Before anyone could react, Levi wrapped the chain of his handcuffs around the soldier’s neck, pulling it tight.
“Don’t move,” Levi hissed, his voice low and deadly. “I’ll kill him.”
Flagon hesitated, his hands raised slightly as he tried to calm the situation. “Easy, brat,” he said slowly. “You don’t want to do something you’ll regret.”
Levi’s eyes were wild, his grip on the chain tightening as he backed away, dragging the soldier with him. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, every instinct screaming at him to run, to get away from this nightmare.
“No one follows me,” Levi warned, his voice ice-cold. “Or he dies.”
Flagon took a step back, his expression cautious. He knew Levi wasn’t bluffing. The boy had been a criminal all his life—killing someone wouldn’t be new to him.
Levi glanced around, assessing his surroundings. The forest was close, just beyond the training grounds. If he could make it to the trees, he could lose them. He just needed to create enough distance.
In one fluid motion, Levi released the soldier and unlocked the handcuffs with the stolen key. The feeling of freedom was intoxicating, the metal cuffs falling to the ground with a satisfying clink. For the first time in weeks, his wrists were free.
Without wasting another second, Levi turned and bolted. He sprinted toward the forest, his feet pounding against the ground as he ran faster than he ever had before. The trees loomed ahead, a dark sanctuary that promised safety.
Behind him, he heard Flagon shouting, but Levi didn’t look back. He couldn’t afford to. He needed to run, to escape this hell once and for all.
The forest swallowed him whole, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Levi dared to hope that he might finally be free.
Levi ran as if his very life depended on it. His legs burned, muscles screaming for rest, but his mind refused to listen. The Survey Corps headquarters had disappeared behind him, the trees now swallowing him whole as he sprinted deeper into the forest. His heart thundered in his chest, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps, but Levi didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
Escape. That was the only thing on his mind. The night stretched out before him, dark and endless, with the forest serving as both his refuge and his enemy. He had no plan, no destination, and no sense of direction. But none of that mattered right now. All that mattered was putting as much distance between himself and the Survey Corps as possible. As far as Levi was concerned, anywhere was better than there.
Behind him, in the sprawling headquarters, all hell was breaking loose.
Erwin had learned about Levi’s escape minutes after it happened. The news came to him in hurried whispers, the kind that carried the weight of disaster. By the time he strode into the center of the chaos, Mike was already in the midst of a furious argument with Flagon. The tension between them was so thick, it practically hummed in the air.
“How the hell did this happen?” Mike snarled, towering over Flagon with his hands balled into fists. His voice was a dangerous growl, one that promised violence if Flagon didn’t answer to his satisfaction. “You were supposed to keep an eye on him!”
Flagon, equally furious, didn’t back down. His face was flushed, and his voice was sharp as he jabbed a finger at Mike’s chest. “Keep an eye on him? I had my hands full training your recruits! You were the one who left him to me without any damn warning! What was I supposed to do—drop everything for your little pet criminal?”
Mike’s scowl deepened, his nostrils flaring. “He’s not a pet. He’s a dangerous criminal, and you let him get away.”
Flagon crossed his arms, his voice dripping with disdain. “If he’s so dangerous, maybe you shouldn’t have left him in the hands of someone who wasn’t given any clear instructions! You think I’ve got time to babysit your problems when I’ve got a whole squad to train? No one told me he was planning to bolt!”
“I didn’t leave him in your care because I wanted to,” Mike snapped back, his teeth clenched in frustration. “You were the only one available! If you’d been paying attention—”
“If you’d been paying attention,” Flagon interrupted, his voice rising with every word, “you wouldn’t have dumped him on me in the first place! This is your screw-up, Mike! Not mine!”
Mike took a threatening step closer, his large frame casting a shadow over Flagon. “You’re pushing your luck, Flagon.”
“And you’re pushing yours, thinking this is all my fault. This mess started with you!”
Before either of them could escalate further, Erwin’s voice sliced through the argument, cold and authoritative. “Enough.”
Both men froze, their heads snapping toward the commander. Erwin’s face was unreadable, his blue eyes hard as he looked between the two of them. The air in the room seemed to shift, the tension from moments ago now held at bay by Erwin’s sheer presence.
“This isn’t the time for blaming each other,” Erwin said, his voice low and measured, but firm. “Levi’s escaped, and if we waste any more time arguing, he’ll be out of our reach.”
Mike gritted his teeth but nodded. Flagon let out a frustrated breath, clearly still angry, but he didn’t push the issue further.
Erwin glanced toward the doorway, where a soldier had been waiting nervously to deliver a message. “Send out a search party immediately,” Erwin ordered. “We can’t afford to let him slip away.”
The soldier nodded quickly and ran off to gather the others. Mike turned to follow, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the weight of the situation. Levi was his responsibility, and letting him escape was a mark on his record that he wasn’t going to take lightly.
But before Mike could leave, a voice boomed through the corridor, growing louder with each angry step.
“Where the hell is that boy?!”
Keith Shadis stormed into the room, his face a mask of barely-contained fury. The commander of the Survey Corps looked ready to tear through anyone standing in his way. Erwin knew this reaction was inevitable, but the severity of it caught even him off guard. Shadis’s eyes blazed as he scanned the room, his gaze landing on Mike and Erwin.
“Do either of you idiots have any idea what this means?” Shadis roared, his voice echoing through the stone walls. “Do you understand the kind of consequences we’re facing because of this?”
“Sir,” Mike began, but Shadis cut him off with a sharp gesture.
“Don’t ‘sir’ me! That boy wasn’t just some criminal! He was a recruit, conscripted under *my* name, under *your* name, Erwin!” Shadis pointed an accusing finger at Erwin, his frustration boiling over. “He was supposed to be under legal protection, a minor according to the records, and you let him escape?! This isn’t just a screw-up—it’s a catastrophe!”
Erwin’s jaw tightened, but he maintained his composure. “We’re sending out a search party as we speak. Levi won’t get far.”
“That’s not the point!” Shadis shouted, his hands flying into the air in exasperation. “The Military Police don’t care how far he gets, Erwin! If they find out we lost him, it’s over for us. You think they’ll let the Survey Corps walk away from this? They’ll tear us apart!”
Erwin frowned, his mind racing. Shadis was right. The implications of Levi’s escape were far more dangerous than he’d initially considered. The boy wasn’t just a criminal—they’d gone through great lengths to forge documents that claimed Levi was underage, protecting him from the harshest punishments. But if those falsified records were uncovered, if the government found out the truth, not only would Levi be dragged off to a correctional facility, but the entire Survey Corps could face serious repercussions.
“We’ll find him,” Erwin said, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “Mike and the others are already preparing to track him down. He won’t have gotten far.”
Shadis wasn’t satisfied. He began to pace, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “We better, Erwin. Because if the Military Police get wind of this, it won’t just be Levi’s head on the block. It’ll be mine. It’ll be yours. They’ll shut us down without a second thought, and everything we’ve worked for will be gone. All because you couldn’t keep a leash on one runaway criminal.”
Erwin met Shadis’s glare with a calm, determined look. “I understand the risks. And I assure you, Levi will be brought back before anyone finds out.”
Shadis snorted, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “You better be right. I don’t want to see that little bastard ruin everything we’ve built.”
Erwin nodded but said nothing more. He knew that Shadis was just venting his frustration, and he didn’t take it personally. The situation was critical, but there was no room for panic. All that mattered now was getting Levi back before things spiraled any further out of control.
Meanwhile, out in the forest, Levi was still running.
The pain in his legs had grown unbearable, every step sending sharp, burning agony through his muscles. His lungs ached with each breath, but he pushed through it, refusing to slow down. He couldn’t slow down. Not with them after him.
Night had fallen, and the darkness made it harder to see the path ahead. Trees blurred past him, the ground uneven and treacherous beneath his feet. Every now and then, he glanced over his shoulder, terrified that he might see soldiers closing in on him.
His mind raced, the desperation clawing at him with every heartbeat. *Keep running. Don’t stop. Keep going.* He had to escape. He couldn’t go back to that hell. He wouldn’t let them lock him up again. He’d rather die out here in the cold than return to those chains.
But just as Levi thought he might outrun his pursuers, disaster struck.
His foot came down on something sharp, and before he could react, an iron trap snapped shut around his leg with a sickening *clank*. The teeth of the metal bit deep into his flesh, and Levi screamed, the pain blinding and immediate. He collapsed to the ground, clutching his leg as blood seeped through his fingers. The agony was unbearable, sending shockwaves of pain through his body.
Levi gritted his teeth, biting back another scream as tears welled in his eyes. He couldn’t make noise. He couldn’t let them hear him. But the pain was excruciating, and for a moment, all he could do was lie there, trembling and gasping for breath.
He tugged at the trap, but the iron held fast, refusing to budge. Panic set in as he realized he was trapped. His leg was bleeding, the cold night air biting at his skin, and there was no way he could run now.
*No… no, not like this…*
The sound of voices reached his ears—distant at first, but growing closer with each passing second. Levi’s heart dropped. The search party. They were coming for him. He was out of time.
His hands shook as he tried to pull
Levi’s tears fell silently, his body trembling not only from the cold but from the overwhelming tide of fear and pain. Each breath was ragged, stifled, and his lip was bruised from biting it to keep his sobs at bay. He refused to cry out loud, even now, even when the world felt like it was collapsing around him. His leg throbbed fiercely, the blood staining the dirt beneath him, and the cold was starting to seep into his bones, making every movement feel sluggish, every breath a little harder to take.
He looked up, his blurry vision focusing on Mike, the towering figure who seemed more like a dark shadow than a man. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, he feared what would come next. Would Mike hit him? Yell at him? Drag him back like some criminal to face his punishment? Levi clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, preparing himself for the worst.
But instead of anger, Mike let out a long, frustrated sigh. Levi watched in silent confusion as the man began to remove his jacket, the thick fabric slipping off his broad shoulders. Then, to Levi’s shock, Mike gently placed the jacket over him, covering Levi’s small, shivering frame with its warmth. Levi’s wide, watery eyes flickered up to Mike, filled with disbelief.
"Calm down, kid," Mike murmured, his deep voice carrying both authority and unexpected gentleness. "Just… breathe. We’re going to get you out of this mess."
Levi swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion, but he nodded weakly. He wasn’t sure how to respond—his instinct was to fight, to resist any kindness shown to him, but his body was too weak, too overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion to do anything other than obey. His chest heaved with silent sobs as he struggled to keep himself composed, feeling the weight of Mike’s jacket like a protective shield against the harsh world.
Mike’s sharp eyes scanned the area, his frustration still palpable, but he held it in check. There was no point in berating Levi now when the boy was clearly suffering. Instead, he called over one of the soldiers from the search team, a man skilled in removing traps.
"Get over here, now," Mike barked, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.
The soldier rushed over, his face stern but focused. He knelt down beside Levi, examining the trap with quick, expert hands. His fingers traced the metal teeth embedded in Levi’s leg, the sharp iron cutting deep into the pale skin. The soldier’s brow furrowed in concentration as he began assessing how to release the boy without causing further damage.
Mike crouched down beside Levi, placing a steady hand on the boy’s shoulder. "You need to hold still," he said, his voice softer now, trying to calm the boy. "This is going to hurt a little, but we’re going to get you out of here. Just hang on, okay?"
Levi didn’t answer. He simply nodded, his eyes fixed on the ground, biting his lip so hard it started to bleed. His hands were trembling in his lap, clenched tightly into fists, his nails digging painfully into his palms to distract himself from the agony in his leg.
The soldier began working on the trap, his hands deft and efficient. Mike watched him closely, his jaw tight with tension. He glanced at Levi, whose face was ghostly pale, streaked with silent tears, his body visibly trembling.
"How bad is it?" Mike asked the soldier, his voice low but laced with worry.
"It’s deep, but it hasn’t hit the bone," the soldier replied, his focus never wavering from his task. "I can get it off without causing permanent damage, but the kid’s going to need stitches. He’s lost a fair bit of blood."
Mike’s frown deepened. He looked at Levi’s small, trembling form, and for a moment, his frustration with the boy melted away, replaced by concern. Levi had been reckless, foolish even, but Mike couldn’t ignore the fact that the kid was in pain, scared, and far too fragile for this kind of punishment.
"Just get it off him," Mike said, his tone sharper than he intended.
The soldier nodded and carefully began to release the trap, his hands working swiftly and skillfully. Levi flinched, his body jerking involuntarily as the metal shifted against his skin, but he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. His breathing became shallower, more frantic, as he tried to focus on anything but the pain.
"Hey," Mike said, his voice low and firm, trying to keep Levi grounded. "Look at me, kid."
Levi’s eyes, still filled with silent tears, flicked up to meet Mike’s. There was fear in his gaze, raw and unguarded, something Mike wasn’t used to seeing in the boy who usually wore a mask of defiance and anger.
"You’re going to be fine," Mike said, his tone gentler now, almost soothing. "I know it hurts, but you’re tougher than this. You can handle it."
Levi blinked, a tear rolling down his cheek despite his best efforts to hold them back. He hated this. Hated feeling weak, helpless. Hated that Mike, of all people, was seeing him like this—crying like a child, trapped and wounded. It made him feel small, vulnerable, and that was something Levi never wanted to feel again.
The soldier finally managed to pry the trap open, and Levi let out a sharp gasp as the metal released its grip on his leg. The pain was immediate and intense, but it was a different kind of pain now—less sharp, more of a dull throb that pulsed through his entire body.
Mike and the soldier both sighed in relief, though their faces remained grim. Blood still seeped from the deep wound, staining the ground beneath Levi. One of the medics rushed over, bandages in hand, and immediately began wrapping Levi’s leg, trying to stem the bleeding.
Mike watched carefully, his sharp eyes never leaving Levi’s face. "Are you okay?" he asked, though he could see the answer in the boy’s pale, tear-streaked face.
Levi didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on the ground, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He was angry—angry at himself for getting caught, angry at the pain, angry at the world for putting him in this situation. But more than that, he was humiliated. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and he hated it.
Mike could see the turmoil in Levi’s expression, the way the boy’s jaw tightened as if he were holding back a torrent of emotions. He wanted to scold Levi, to tell him how reckless and stupid he had been, but now wasn’t the time. Levi was already punishing himself enough.
Once the medic finished wrapping Levi’s leg, Mike crouched down beside him again, this time with a bottle of water in hand. "Drink," he said, holding it out to the boy.
Levi hesitated for a moment, his pride warring with his body’s need for hydration. But eventually, his exhaustion won out, and he took the bottle, gulping down the water as if he hadn’t had a drink in days.
When he was done, Levi wiped his tears away with the back of his hand, his face hardening once more as he tried to regain some semblance of control. But his body was still trembling, and his leg throbbed painfully beneath the bandages.
Mike stood, towering over Levi, and held out his hand. "Come on," he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. "We need to get you back to the headquarters."
Levi stared at Mike’s hand for a moment, his pride making him hesitate. But he knew he didn’t have the strength to stand on his own, not with his injured leg. Reluctantly, he took Mike’s hand, allowing the man to pull him to his feet.
As soon as Levi put weight on his injured leg, he winced, his body leaning slightly to the side to take the pressure off. Mike noticed immediately and sighed, his large hand still gripping Levi’s smaller one.
"Can you walk?" Mike asked, his tone softening just slightly.
Levi nodded, though it was clear he was struggling to stay upright. He didn’t want to admit weakness, especially not in front of Mike. But his body betrayed him, the pain making it nearly impossible to walk without limping.
Mike let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, kid, if you can’t walk, I’m carrying you. It’s not up for debate."
Levi’s eyes widened in alarm, and he immediately shook his head, his pride flaring up again. "No," he muttered, his voice rough from crying. "I can walk."
Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "You’re limping."
"I’ll manage," Levi insisted, though his voice was strained. He was embarrassed enough as it was, with Mike holding his hand like a child. There was no way he was going to let the man carry him.
Mike sighed again, but he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he loosened his grip on Levi’s hand just slightly, though he kept close, ready to catch the boy if he stumbled. "Fine. But if you fall, I’m carrying you, got it?"
Levi didn’t respond. He just started walking, his movements slow and deliberate as he tried to keep the weight off his injured leg. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his body, but he grit his teeth and pushed through it. He wasn’t about to let anyone think he was weak.
---
Back at headquarters, Erwin paced nervously in the main hall, his sharp eyes flicking to the door every few moments. The tension in the air was palpable, thick and suffocating, as the minutes dragged on without any word from the search team.
Shadis stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, his face a mask of barely contained fury. "This is a disaster," he muttered, more to himself than to Erwin. "If we don’t find that boy soon…"
Erwin’s heart raced. He knew Shadis was right. If Levi wasn’t found soon, the consequences would be severe—for the boy and for the Survey Corps as a whole.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the signal came that the search team had returned. Erwin’s breath hitched as he rushed toward the entrance, his heart pounding in his chest.
When he reached the door, his eyes immediately landed on Mike, who was walking toward him with Levi at his side. Mike was holding the boy’s hand, his large fingers wrapped protectively around Levi’s smaller, trembling one.
Erwin’s eyes widened in relief, but his gaze quickly dropped to Levi’s leg, which was wrapped tightly in bandages. The boy’s face was pale, his eyes downcast, and Erwin could see the faint streaks of dried tears on his cheeks.
"Where did you find him?" Erwin asked, his voice filled with urgency.
Mike glanced to the side, his expression grim. "Caught in a trap. He’s lucky it didn’t break the bone."
Erwin’s breath caught in his throat as he knelt down in front of Levi, his eyes fixed on the boy’s injured leg. The bandages were already soaked with blood, and the sight made Erwin’s stomach churn.
"Levi…" Erwin murmured, his voice soft but laced with concern. He reached out, gently touching the boy’s arm, but Levi didn’t respond. He kept his gaze firmly on the ground, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Erwin looked up at Mike, his expression filled with questions, but Mike simply shook his head, indicating that now wasn’t the time for answers.
"Let’s get him inside," Mike said quietly. "He needs proper treatment."
_______
The air inside the infirmary was tense, thick with the kind of silence that settles before a storm. Erwin stood at the edge of the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes flickering between Shadis and the small figure lying motionless on the bed. Levi looked deathly pale, his lips almost white, his dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He hadn’t made a sound since they’d brought him in, but the pain was evident in his clenched jaw, the way his fingers twitched every now and then.
Shadis paced the room like a caged beast, his heavy boots echoing across the floor. His frustration was palpable, his anger barely restrained, but even he knew that now wasn’t the time to unleash it. Not yet.
Mike had been the one to carry Levi into the infirmary, his grip firm but careful. Despite his usual gruff demeanor, Mike had been gentle with the boy, especially after seeing how much blood Levi had lost. Now, he stood near the doorway, his face unreadable, but his arms were crossed, and his body radiated a kind of quiet tension.
The doctor, a middle-aged man with tired eyes and swift hands, had just begun to remove the temporary bandages wrapped around Levi’s leg. As he peeled them away, his brow furrowed, and he exchanged a worried glance with Erwin.
"This is worse than I thought," the doctor muttered under his breath, though the words were clear in the stillness of the room. He glanced at Levi’s pale face, then back to the wound. "There’s a high chance of infection. The cut’s deep, and he’s lost a significant amount of blood."
Erwin’s jaw tightened. He knew this was bad. Levi had pushed his body to the brink with that reckless escape attempt. It wasn’t just his leg—it was the toll the cold, the exhaustion, and the stress had taken on him. And now, they had to deal with an infection that could easily spiral out of control if not treated immediately.
The doctor continued his examination, his face growing more serious with each passing moment. "I’ll need to stitch the wound right away," he said, his voice steady but grim. "If we wait any longer, the infection will spread."
At that, Levi stirred slightly, his eyelids fluttering open, though his gaze remained distant, almost unfocused. He didn’t seem to register what was happening around him, too consumed by pain and exhaustion to fully understand.
The doctor prepared the needle and thread, moving quickly as he laid out his tools. But when Levi’s eyes landed on the sharp needle, something in him snapped awake. His body tensed, and for the first time since they had brought him in, he reacted—he flinched and tried to scoot back, his movements slow and uncoordinated, but driven by pure instinct. His eyes, wide with fear, locked onto the needle, and his breaths came quicker, shallow and panicked.
"No..." Levi’s voice was barely more than a whisper, hoarse from exhaustion and fear. He shook his head weakly, trying to push himself further away from the doctor.
Erwin stepped forward, his heart twisting at the sight of the boy so visibly scared. Despite his hardened exterior, despite everything he had been through, Levi was still a child. He may have been nineteen, but he didn’t look it. His small frame, his delicate features, and the raw fear in his eyes made him look more like a young teenager than a hardened soldier. It was moments like these that reminded Erwin just how much the world had taken from Levi, how unfairly it had treated him.
Shadis, however, had little patience left. His face was a mixture of irritation and anger as he watched Levi’s weak attempt to resist. "What are we waiting for, Erwin?" Shadis snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. "Stabilize the boy and get it over with. He’s the one who got himself into this mess."
Erwin shot Shadis a sharp look, his eyes narrowing. He knew Shadis wasn’t wrong, but his cruelty was unnecessary. Levi was already terrified and in pain—there was no need to make this harder for him. Sighing, Erwin knelt down next to the bed, bringing himself to Levi’s level.
"Levi," Erwin said softly, his voice gentle but firm. He rested a hand on Levi’s arm, trying to get his attention. "I know you’re scared, but we need to stitch the wound, or it’ll get worse. The infection could spread, and that will hurt even more."
Levi’s eyes flicked to Erwin, but the fear didn’t leave his face. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, and he shook his head again, though the movement was weak, almost pathetic in its desperation.
"No..." he whispered again, his voice breaking. "I don’t want it... it’ll hurt..."
Erwin’s heart clenched. He could see the exhaustion in Levi’s eyes, the way the boy was barely holding on. He glanced at the doctor, who was watching the scene with a patient but concerned expression, then back at Levi.
"Levi," Erwin continued, his tone gentle but insistent. "If we don’t do this, the pain will only get worse. You’re strong, I know you can handle this. But you need to trust us. We’re here to help you."
Levi didn’t respond. He just stared at Erwin, his eyes glassy with tears that refused to fall, his small body trembling from both pain and fear. He looked like a cornered animal, trapped with no way out.
The doctor knelt down beside Levi, trying to make his presence less intimidating. "Kid," he said softly, his voice kind but serious. "This is necessary. Your wound will get worse if we don’t stitch it up. I know it’s going to hurt, but it’ll be quick. I promise. We’ll give you something for the pain afterward, but we need to do this now."
Levi’s gaze shifted from the doctor to Erwin, then to the needle again. His lip trembled, and for a moment, it seemed like he might break down completely. But instead, he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to muster what little strength he had left.
Shadis, watching from the corner, sighed heavily. "Erwin, we don’t have time for this. The boy is delaying his own recovery. Let’s just stabilize him, force him to lie down if we have to. He’s acting like a scared child, and we can’t afford to waste any more time."
Erwin’s gaze flickered to Shadis, irritation flashing in his eyes. "He *is* a child, in many ways," he replied, his voice low but firm. "And scaring him into submission won’t help."
But Shadis wasn’t having it. "He’s not fourteen, Erwin. He’s old enough to understand consequences. Letting him run the show because he’s scared will only make things harder for everyone."
Erwin sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew Shadis wasn’t completely wrong, but Levi wasn’t just any soldier—they couldn’t treat him like one. The boy had been through too much, and his resistance came from a place of deep-rooted fear, not simple disobedience.
Levi, meanwhile, had stopped moving, his small body trembling as he stared down at the floor. His breathing was shallow, and it was clear he was still terrified of the pain that was about to come.
Erwin crouched down lower, meeting Levi’s eyes. "Levi, I promise we’ll be as gentle as possible. But you have to lie down, okay? The sooner we do this, the sooner the pain will be over. Trust me."
Levi looked at Erwin for a long moment, his eyes searching for something—maybe reassurance, maybe a way out. But eventually, with a slow, trembling breath, he gave a tiny nod, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Erwin exhaled softly in relief, giving the boy a small nod of encouragement. "Good," he said quietly. "Lie down, and it’ll be over before you know it."
Levi hesitated for a second, then slowly, almost painfully, lowered himself back onto the bed. His movements were stiff, and his face was tight with fear, but he did as he was told. His hands clutched at the thin blanket beneath him, his knuckles white with tension.
The doctor wasted no time. He took the bandages and began cleaning the wound, his hands quick and efficient. Mike stepped forward, standing at the foot of the bed. He placed his large hands gently but firmly on Levi’s leg, holding it still so the boy wouldn’t jerk away during the procedure.
"Stay still," Mike murmured, his voice calm but authoritative. "It’ll hurt less if you don’t move."
Levi nodded weakly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep from crying out. His entire body was taut, every muscle tensed as if bracing for impact.
The doctor began stitching the wound, his hands moving with practiced precision. Levi flinched at the first prick of the needle, his body jerking slightly, but Mike’s grip on his leg kept him steady.
"It’s almost done," Mike said softly, though the procedure had just begun. His eyes flickered with concern as he watched Levi bite his lip harder, his face twisted in pain. "You’re doing fine. Just hold on a little longer."
Levi’s breath hitched, and a single tear slipped down his cheek, though he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand. He was determined not to cry in front of them—not to show any more weakness than he already had.
By the time the doctor finished stitching the wound, Levi was trembling with exhaustion. His face was pale and slick with sweat, his eyes half-lidded as if he could barely keep them open. The doctor applied an ointment to the wound, his movements gentle now that the worst was over.
"That’s it," the doctor said quietly, wrapping fresh bandages around Levi’s leg. "You did well, kid."
But Levi didn’t respond. His body was limp with fatigue, his eyes unfocused as he stared blankly at the ceiling. His breathing was shallow, and it was clear that he was on the verge of passing out.
Erwin stepped closer, his face etched with concern. "Levi," he said softly, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "You should rest now. Sleep will help you recover."
Levi didn’t argue. He was too exhausted to even think about resisting. His eyes fluttered closed, and within moments, he was fast asleep, his small body sinking into the bed.
But just as Erwin began to relax, the doctor’s expression darkened. He reached out, touching Levi’s forehead, and his brow furrowed in concern.
"His skin is burning up," the doctor said gravely. "That’s not a good sign. It looks like the infection is causing a fever."
Erwin’s heart sank. He had feared this. Levi’s body was already weak from malnutrition and exhaustion, and now his immune system was struggling to fight off the infection.
The doctor shook his head, worry etched across his features. "The boy’s immunity is dangerously low. It’s like he hasn’t had any of the basic vaccinations. We’ll need to keep a close eye on him. If the fever worsens…"
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. The implication was clear.
Erwin clenched his fists, his heart heavy with a mixture of guilt and frustration. He had wanted to protect Levi, to give him a chance at something better. But now, it seemed like everything was spiraling out of control.
All they could do now was wait, and hope that Levi’s body would be strong enough to fight back against the infection.
The room was unbearably hot, despite the nurses’ efforts to keep it cool. The fever that had gripped Levi for the past three days showed no signs of relenting. His skin burned beneath the damp cloths, his breath coming in uneven rasps, eyes fluttering beneath his heavy lids as though he were trapped in some distant nightmare. His once-pale face was now flushed red, a stark contrast to his dark hair, which clung to his forehead, slick with sweat.
The nurses had been working tirelessly, replacing the cold compresses on his forehead, wiping away the sweat from his brow, and adjusting his blankets. Yet, no matter how hard they tried, Levi’s temperature would fall for only a brief moment before spiking again. It was a relentless cycle, and they were all growing weary from the effort. The infection in his leg was severe, and coupled with his already weakened immunity, the fever had taken its toll.
Erwin stood at the foot of the bed, watching Levi’s small body struggle under the weight of the illness. He could hardly believe how fragile the boy looked now. His heart clenched every time Levi stirred, his lips parting in silent groans of discomfort. Erwin had been coming to check on Levi regularly, despite Shadis’s grumbling that Levi was a criminal and didn’t deserve such attention. But to Erwin, Levi was more than just a criminal. He was… well, he wasn’t sure what Levi was to him yet. But something about the boy drew Erwin in. Maybe it was his resilience, or perhaps it was the strange mix of rebellion and vulnerability that Levi carried with him.
The doctor came over and sighed as he removed the compress from Levi’s forehead. "His temperature’s still high," he murmured to Erwin, his voice laced with concern. "The infection in his leg is worse than we initially thought, and his body is too weak to fight it off properly. His immune system is practically nonexistent."
Erwin ran a hand over his face, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. "What are his chances?"
The doctor didn’t answer right away, his lips pressing into a thin line. "If the fever doesn’t break soon, he could develop complications. His breathing is already shallow, and if it worsens… Well, it’s not good, Commander."
Erwin’s eyes flickered to the boy’s face, his hand unconsciously moving to stroke Levi’s hair in a rare gesture of comfort. The boy’s hair was long, unusually so for a soldier, and it brushed his shoulders. It only added to the delicate appearance that Levi had, making him look more like a fragile, porcelain doll than the rebellious, sharp-edged fighter Erwin had come to know.
As if on cue, the door creaked open, and Shadis entered the room, his face set in a stern frown. His gaze flicked from Erwin to the boy, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Levi lying there so helpless.
"You’re wasting your time, Erwin," Shadis said gruffly. "The boy’s a criminal. You should stop treating him like he’s some kind of child."
Erwin’s jaw tightened. "He *is* a child, in many ways," he said quietly, though his voice carried an edge. "He’s not some hardened criminal, Shadis. He’s just a boy who’s been through more than most."
Shadis scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Protocol’s protocol. Criminals are restrained, and Levi is no exception. Whether he’s sick or not, he stays chained to that bed until further notice."
Erwin glared at Shadis, his fists clenching. "He’s barely conscious. He’s not going to escape in this condition."
"That’s not for you to decide," Shadis replied coldly. "It’s for the safety of everyone else. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment, Erwin."
Erwin bit back the retort that sat on his tongue. He knew arguing with Shadis wouldn’t get him anywhere. The older man was set in his ways, and once he made a decision, it was almost impossible to change his mind. But that didn’t mean Erwin had to like it. His eyes drifted to the thin chains wrapped around Levi’s leg and hand, securing him to the bed. They were loose enough to allow some movement, but the sight of them made Erwin’s stomach turn. Levi didn’t deserve this—especially not in the state he was in.
With a frustrated sigh, Erwin turned back to Levi. The boy looked even smaller, more fragile, with those chains binding him. His long hair fell over his eyes, damp with sweat, and his chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. He looked like he was fighting for every breath, and it twisted something deep inside Erwin. He hated seeing Levi like this—so weak, so vulnerable.
Shadis lingered for a moment longer, his gaze cold and distant. "He got himself into this mess," Shadis muttered, more to himself than anyone else, before turning and leaving the room.
Erwin exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension that had built up in his chest. He knelt down by the bed, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from Levi’s forehead. The boy’s skin was burning hot to the touch, and Erwin could feel the fever radiating off him in waves.
"Hang in there, Levi," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re stronger than this."
He wasn’t sure if Levi could hear him, but it didn’t matter. Erwin needed to say the words, if only to reassure himself that the boy would pull through.
Three long days passed in this fevered haze. Nurses continued to rotate in and out of the infirmary, bringing fresh water and compresses, doing their best to manage Levi’s fever. But nothing seemed to work. His temperature would fall briefly, only to spike again hours later. Every time Erwin came to check on him, he found Levi in the same condition—unconscious, sweating, and struggling to breathe.
But on the fourth day, something changed.
Levi stirred.
His eyelids fluttered, and he blinked blearily at the world around him, his vision still hazy from the fever. His head felt heavy, and his body ached all over, a deep, bone-deep exhaustion that made it hard to even think. He tried to move, but something cold and unyielding stopped him. With a soft groan, Levi looked down and saw the chain around his wrist, connecting him to the bed.
A surge of anger flared up inside him, weak as it was. He cursed softly under his breath, yanking at the chain in frustration, though the movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through his leg. He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the pillow, too tired to fight anymore. His leg throbbed with every beat of his heart, and he could feel the infection still festering beneath the bandages.
The room was empty, and Levi could hear the faint sounds of the camp outside, but nothing felt real. The fever had left him disoriented, confused, and everything seemed to blur at the edges. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten here, or why. All he knew was that he felt like hell.
After a few moments, the door creaked open, and Levi’s heart skipped a beat. He quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep, his body going still. Footsteps echoed softly across the infirmary, and Levi could feel someone’s presence standing close to his bed.
Erwin’s familiar voice broke the silence. "His fever’s down," he said softly, almost to himself. "Thank God."
Levi felt the bed shift slightly as Erwin sat down beside him, and then, much to Levi’s surprise, he felt Erwin’s hand stroke his hair again, gently brushing the damp strands away from his forehead. Levi had never known Erwin to be so… tender. He didn’t understand it. Why was this man, his supposed enemy, treating him like this?
Levi didn’t dare move, though. He kept his breathing slow and even, pretending to be lost in the throes of sleep. But inside, his mind was racing, his heart pounding in his chest.
Mike entered the room a moment later, his heavy footsteps unmistakable. "How is he?" Mike asked, his deep voice breaking the stillness of the room.
Erwin’s hand stilled on Levi’s forehead, and he sighed. "Better, I think. His fever’s gone down, but he’s still weak. We need the doctor to check on him again, just to be sure."
Mike stepped closer, and Levi could feel his presence looming over him. The man’s large hand brushed against Levi’s face, feeling for any lingering heat. "Yeah, he’s cooler than before," Mike agreed, his voice low. "I’ll go get the doctor."
As Mike left the room, Erwin remained where he was, his hand still resting on Levi’s forehead. Levi could feel the warmth of Erwin’s palm, the gentle pressure of his fingers as they moved lightly through his hair. It was… strange. Levi hated Erwin. He despised everything the man stood for. And yet, this touch—this gentle, comforting touch—was something Levi hadn’t felt in years. It unsettled him, made him feel things he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Erwin sighed again, and Levi felt the weight of his gaze. "I don’t know if you can hear me, Levi," Erwin murmured, his voice soft, almost tender. "But I’m glad you’re still here."
Levi’s heart twisted at those words, and he had to bite his lip to keep from reacting. Why? Why was Erwin saying these things? Why was he acting like he cared?
Before Levi could dwell on it any longer, the door opened once more, and the doctor entered, followed closely by Mike. The doctor wasted no time, moving to Levi’s bedside and checking his pulse, his breathing, and finally his temperature.
"He’s still weak, but the fever’s broken," the doctor said after a moment, his voice relieved. "That’s a good sign. We’ll keep an eye on him, but I think he’s out of the worst of it."
Erwin nodded, his hand finally leaving Levi’s hair. "Thank you, doctor."
The doctor applied new ointment and checked the stitches in Levi’s leg. He worked methodically, his hands sure and practiced as he cleaned and re-bandaged the wound. Levi had to fight not to flinch when the doctor’s fingers brushed against his injured leg. Even though he was pretending to be asleep, the pain was still sharp, still very real.
When the doctor finished, he stepped back and nodded to Erwin. "Let him rest. He’ll need time to recover fully."
As the room grew quiet once more, Levi opened his eyes just a sliver, watching as Erwin sat back in his chair, his face still etched with concern.
That evening, the air in the infirmary was thick with tension. Levi sat on the narrow bed, his back resting against a stack of pillows, still bound by the chains that connected his wrist and ankle to the bedframe. The soft clink of metal accompanied any movement, though Levi remained still for the most part. His face was flushed, the remnants of the fever still clinging to him despite the slight improvement. He wore the standard hospital gown, which made him look even smaller than usual, the loose fabric swallowing his already thin frame. His long black hair was still damp, falling over his shoulders, framing his delicate face.
Erwin stood off to the side, arms crossed, observing the scene with a guarded expression. His blue eyes flicked between the doctor and Levi, his thoughts far too complex to be revealed through his stoic demeanor. Despite his calm exterior, the worry gnawed at him. This boy, who seemed to be an enigma wrapped in stubborn defiance, had captured his attention in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The fever had left Levi weak, vulnerable in a way Erwin had never seen before, and it was unsettling to witness such fragility in someone so fierce.
The doctor, an older man with graying hair and a weathered face, sighed heavily as he pressed his hand against Levi’s forehead. The boy’s skin was still unnaturally warm to the touch, though thankfully, it was no longer the searing heat that had plagued him the past few days.
"His temperature is still high," the doctor muttered, more to himself than to Erwin. "Not as dangerous as it was before, but it’s still concerning. We need to keep an eye on it."
Levi’s half-lidded eyes glanced at the doctor, his confusion evident. He was clearly disoriented, his mind still clouded by the fever that had yet to fully release its grip on him. His pale lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to speak but didn’t have the energy or the clarity to form words.
The doctor’s gaze lingered on Levi, his brow furrowing slightly. "You know," he began, turning to Erwin, "I don’t think this boy is even eighteen. Look at him. He’s small, thin… and his face…" The doctor trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he studied Levi more closely. "Are you sure he’s not younger? He looks no older than fourteen."
Erwin glanced at Levi again, as though seeing him for the first time. Levi’s appearance had always been striking, but now, weakened and vulnerable, his beauty seemed almost ethereal. His features were delicate, his skin pale and smooth, save for the flush of fever. His long hair, reaching down to his shoulders, added to the illusion. If Erwin hadn’t known better, he might have thought Levi was a young girl. The thought struck him as odd, but undeniable.
"I don’t have any records of his age," Erwin admitted, his voice low. "But I’ve been told he’s nineteen. He’s just… smaller than most, I suppose."
The doctor hummed thoughtfully, his eyes flicking back to Levi’s face. "Small indeed. He looks like he inherited his looks from his mother. Maybe she was a concubine, one of the king’s mistresses. They’re known for their beauty. It would explain a lot."
Erwin raised an eyebrow at the speculation but said nothing. Levi’s origins were as much a mystery as the boy himself, and it wasn’t Erwin’s place to pry. Still, the idea lingered in his mind, the pieces slowly forming an incomplete puzzle. Levi’s grace, his delicate features, his size… it all seemed to point to something more than just a poor boy from the underground.
Levi, still weak and confused, had been watching the two men with tired eyes, his head leaning slightly to the side. He didn’t seem to comprehend the conversation happening around him. His mind was foggy, his thoughts muddled by the fever, and every movement sent a dull throb of pain through his body. He let out a soft groan, his hand twitching where it rested on the bed. The chain rattled slightly as he moved, a sound that made him grit his teeth in frustration.
The doctor turned his attention back to Levi’s leg, peeling away the bandages with practiced care. Levi winced, his lips pressing together as the cool air hit the inflamed skin of his wound. The infection was still visible, though it wasn’t as bad as it had been a few days prior. The stitches were holding, but the skin around them was red and swollen, a sign that the healing process was still far from complete.
The doctor ran his fingers gently over the wound, feeling for any abnormalities. Levi flinched at the touch, a small groan escaping him. The sound was soft, almost inaudible, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Erwin.
"How’s the leg?" Erwin asked, his voice breaking the silence.
The doctor sighed again, his fingers still moving over Levi’s leg as he examined the injury. "It’s healing, but slowly. The infection hasn’t fully cleared yet, and his body’s weak. His immune system isn’t strong enough to fight it off quickly. It’s going to take time." The doctor glanced up at Erwin, his expression serious. "Has he ever had vaccinations? It seems like his immune system has never been fortified."
Erwin’s brow furrowed. "I doubt it. There were no records of any medical care in the underground. They don’t have access to things like vaccinations down there."
The doctor shook his head, clearly troubled by the news. "That’s a problem. Once his fever breaks and he’s stable, we need to start him on a full course of vaccinations. His body’s too weak to fend off infections on its own. He’ll need all the help he can get."
As the doctor continued his work, Erwin’s gaze lingered on Levi. The boy’s face was still flushed, though not as alarmingly red as it had been before. His eyes were half-open, glazed with fever, and his lips parted slightly as though he was struggling to breathe. Every now and then, a soft groan would slip from his throat, and his hand twitched weakly on the bed.
"Levi," Erwin said softly, stepping closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?"
Levi’s eyes fluttered open a little wider, his gaze focusing on Erwin’s face. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his mind too clouded by sickness to fully understand the question. But then, after a long pause, he let out a soft, hoarse whisper. "Tired…"
Erwin nodded, his expression softening. "I know. You’ve been through a lot. But you’re getting better. Just hang in there a little longer."
Levi’s eyes flickered, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something more, but no words came. Instead, he closed his eyes again, his body sinking deeper into the bed as exhaustion pulled him back into its grip.
As the doctor finished re-bandaging Levi’s leg, the door to the infirmary opened once more, and Shadis strode in, his presence immediately filling the room with a sense of authority. He glanced at Levi, then turned to the doctor.
"How’s the boy?" Shadis asked, his voice gruff but not without a hint of concern.
The doctor straightened up, wiping his hands on a towel. "He’s recovering, but slowly. The fever’s still there, though it’s not as dangerous as before. His leg is healing, but it’ll take time."
Shadis stepped closer to the bed, his stern gaze softening slightly as he looked down at Levi. The boy was so small, so frail, lying there in the hospital gown with chains around his wrist and ankle. Shadis’s heart ached at the sight, though he would never admit it aloud. He had been ready to punish Levi for his actions—running away, threatening to kill a soldier, disobeying orders—but seeing the boy like this made him hesitate.
"Let him recover first," Shadis said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. "There’s no point in punishing him when he’s already suffering."
Erwin nodded, though he kept his thoughts to himself. He knew Shadis was a strict man, but even he wasn’t heartless. Levi’s condition had softened him, if only for a moment.
"Once he’s well enough to move," Erwin began, glancing at Shadis, "I think it would be best if we relocated him to my office. I can keep an eye on him there, and he won’t be a disruption in the infirmary. He’ll still be under supervision, but he’ll have a bit more privacy."
Shadis considered the suggestion for a moment before nodding. "That makes sense. Keep him there until he’s fully recovered. But don’t let him out of your sight. He’s still a flight risk."
Erwin nodded in agreement. "I’ll make sure of it."
The doctor finished his examination and stepped back, nodding to Erwin. "He should rest now. His body needs time to heal."
Erwin looked down at Levi, who had already slipped back into an uneasy sleep. His small body was still bound by the chains, a reminder of his status as a prisoner, but there was a vulnerability about him that made Erwin feel conflicted. This boy, who had caused so much trouble, who had defied authority at every turn, was now lying helpless in a hospital bed, too weak to even lift his head.
As Shadis turned to leave, Erwin lingered for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on Levi’s face. There was something about the boy that tugged at him, something that made him want to protect him, despite everything. Levi might have been a criminal, but he was also just a child—a child who had been dealt a cruel hand in life.
With a sigh, Erwin turned and followed Shadis out of the infirmary, leaving Levi to rest under the watchful eyes of the nurses and doctors.
___________
Levi’s world was a haze of fever, pain, and disorientation. He barely realized what was happening to him most of the time. There were only fleeting moments of clarity, but they were quickly swept away by the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed on him like a heavy blanket. His body felt foreign, too heavy, too hot. The fever was relentless, making him delirious and weak, his limbs useless, his mind fogged.
He vaguely remembered being moved, lifted out of the infirmary, and transported somewhere else. His leg throbbed, sending sharp, burning pain shooting up his body whenever he shifted. The soft clinking sound of metal caught his attention, pulling him out of his fevered stupor for a brief moment. He blinked, his vision blurry, and saw that his hand and ankle were chained to the small bed he was lying on. The bed wasn’t unfamiliar—it was the one in Erwin’s office. The chains clung lightly to him, not tight enough to hurt but firm enough to keep him from moving too much.
Levi didn’t fully understand why he was here, in this small corner of the office, like a prisoner. He was too tired to think clearly, too disoriented to ask questions. The fever was still burning through him, and all he could do was lie there, feeling the cold sweat trickling down his back. His breaths came in shallow pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though every inhale took all his energy.
Erwin stood beside the bed, watching him with that calm, unreadable expression. Levi wasn’t sure how long Erwin had been there, how many times he had come and gone. Time blurred together. He barely registered Erwin’s large hand reaching forward, gently pressing against his forehead to check his temperature. Levi didn’t flinch. His body felt like it belonged to someone else.
“Still warm,” Erwin murmured, half to himself. His touch was firm but gentle, the palm of his hand warm against Levi’s clammy skin.
Levi blinked slowly, his vision fuzzy, but he could make out the shape of Erwin leaning over him. There was something strange about this situation. Levi, the criminal, the one who had disobeyed and run, was lying here helpless, and yet… Erwin wasn’t angry. His face, which was usually stern and unreadable, softened ever so slightly as he checked the compresses on Levi’s head, changing them with practiced precision. Levi felt the cold fabric of a new compress settle against his burning skin, soothing the constant heat that made it hard to think.
“Drink this,” Erwin said softly, holding a cup of water to Levi’s lips. His tone was calm, almost caring, and it confused Levi more than anything.
Levi blinked at the cup, not comprehending. Erwin tilted it slightly, and the cool water touched Levi’s lips. Without thinking, Levi drank, his dry throat grateful for the relief. He didn’t resist; he was too tired, too weak. His eyelids fluttered, his fever making his thoughts sluggish. He vaguely remembered Erwin doing this before, feeding him, giving him medicine, speaking to him in that calm, measured voice.
"Good," Erwin said quietly when Levi finished drinking, his hand steady as he placed the cup aside. "You're doing well."
That praise—it felt wrong. Levi wasn’t sure what Erwin meant by it. What did he do well? He was lying here like a useless doll, chained to the bed. He had failed. He had tried to escape, to get away from these people, from this place, and yet here he was, sick and broken. The chains around his wrist and ankle were a cruel reminder of his failure.
Erwin’s hand brushed against Levi’s hair, stroking it gently, almost like one would comfort a child. Levi’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch, but inside, his mind was spinning. Why was Erwin being kind? Was this all some manipulation, some cruel trick to break him down further? He wanted to pull away, to push Erwin’s hand aside, but he couldn’t. His body was too heavy, too weak.
From time to time, Mike would come in. Levi heard his footsteps before he saw him, and whenever Mike arrived, there was always a low, rumbling conversation between him and Erwin. Levi couldn’t make out most of it. The fever made their voices sound distant, muffled, like they were talking through a thick fog.
“He’s improving,” Erwin said one day when Mike came to check on them.
Levi could barely open his eyes, but he could feel Mike’s presence looming near the bed. The giant man crouched down to Levi’s level, inspecting him with those piercing, scrutinizing eyes. Levi hated it. He hated being seen like this—weak, helpless, vulnerable.
"His fever’s still there, though. Hasn’t it been days?” Mike’s voice was gruff, a little rough around the edges. Levi could feel his breath close by, and it irritated him in a strange way. He was used to Mike being intimidating, but now he just seemed… concerned.
“It’s not as high as it was,” Erwin replied calmly, always the voice of reason. “It’s come down. Slowly, but it’s progress.”
Mike grunted, his eyes lingering on Levi’s pale, sweat-drenched face. Levi could feel Mike’s hand brush against his forehead, too, checking his temperature like Erwin always did. It was strange, having these two men constantly looking after him like this. Levi couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Kid’s tougher than he looks,” Mike muttered, almost to himself, as he rose back to his full height. “But he’s still scrawny. No wonder he got so sick.”
Erwin’s expression tightened, but he said nothing for a moment. Instead, he adjusted the blankets around Levi, tucking him in carefully, like a mother would with a child. Levi felt that strange, unfamiliar tug of warmth in his chest—an odd sensation, one that made him want to turn his face away in embarrassment. He hated this—hated being treated like some fragile thing.
“The fever’s weakened him,” Erwin said, his voice quieter now. “But he’s going to pull through.”
Mike grunted again, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked like he wanted to say more but was holding back. After a pause, he glanced at Erwin and asked, “So, what now? Once he’s better, what do we do with him?”
Erwin didn’t answer immediately. He was still focused on Levi, brushing the boy’s long, sweat-dampened hair away from his face. Levi was starting to wake up more often now, though he still felt tired all the time. His fever was going down, but it wasn’t gone yet. The haze in his mind was lifting, and he was beginning to understand more of what was happening around him.
When Erwin finally spoke, his tone was measured, thoughtful. “We’ll talk to him when he’s fully recovered. I want to know why he ran.”
“He’s dangerous,” Mike said bluntly. “Tried to kill one of our men, remember?”
Levi’s eyes fluttered open, just enough to see the exchange between the two men. He felt a sudden wave of anger—at Mike, at Erwin, at the entire situation. They were talking about him as though he wasn’t even there. Dangerous? He was lying here, chained to a bed, weak and sick. How dangerous could he possibly be?
Erwin glanced down at Levi, as though sensing his frustration. He sighed, his expression softening just a fraction. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes. For now, he needs rest.”
Mike wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but he nodded and turned to leave. “Just don’t let your guard down around him, Erwin. He may look like a kid, but he’s not.”
Levi’s eyes narrowed at Mike’s retreating back. He hated the way they talked about him, like he was some wild animal that needed to be tamed. As Mike left the room, Erwin remained behind, sitting beside Levi’s bed. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Levi’s mind was beginning to clear, and with it came a surge of frustration.
He was still chained to the bed, still treated like a prisoner, even though he was sick. The humiliation gnawed at him. He hated being weak, hated that Erwin had seen him like this. His escape had failed miserably, and now he was paying the price for it.
“You’re awake,” Erwin said quietly, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, almost too calm, as though he was trying not to provoke Levi. “How are you feeling?”
Levi didn’t answer immediately. He glared at the chain around his wrist, tugging on it slightly, feeling the cold metal bite into his skin. He hated this—being restrained, being watched constantly.
“Like shit,” Levi finally muttered, his voice hoarse and weak. His throat felt dry, his mouth parched from the fever.
Erwin sighed softly. “Your fever’s gone down, but you still need to rest.”
Levi clenched his teeth, his frustration bubbling up. “Why the hell am I chained up like this? I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s protocol,” Erwin replied simply. “Until you’re fully recovered, we can’t take any risks.”
Levi scoffed, turning his head away from Erwin. “I’m not a threat to you. Not like this.”
Erwin didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached for the water cup again, holding it out for Levi. “Drink,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Levi hesitated for a moment before grudgingly taking a sip. The water was cool, soothing his parched throat, but it did nothing to ease the burning anger inside him. He hated this—hated that Erwin had control over him, hated that he was weak enough to need help.
“I don’t need you,” Levi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t need any of you.”
Erwin watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “We’re not your enemies, Levi,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to fight us.”
Levi’s hands tightened around the chain. “You don’t know anything about me.”
Erwin didn’t argue. Instead, he simply sat there, watching Levi with that calm, steady gaze that Levi had come to resent.
________________
The sun had barely risen, casting faint rays of light through the narrow windows of Erwin’s office, when the sound of a door opening gently cut through the silence. Levi was sitting up in bed, his head feeling heavy and groggy, his eyes fixed on the chain attached to his wrist. His fever had lessened, but he was still tired, his thoughts muddled, his body stiff from the days of being bedridden.
He toyed with the chain absentmindedly, pulling at it slightly as though testing the weight of it, but there was no intention to escape in the gesture. He didn’t have the strength, not now. His leg still throbbed, and his muscles felt weak from the fever. His hand was pale, fingers thin as they wrapped around the chain.
He hadn't noticed when Erwin entered the room, carrying a tray with breakfast and a syringe of medicine. The man’s footsteps were quiet, purposeful. Levi’s eyes were fixed on the chain, completely unaware of the approaching presence.
Erwin observed Levi for a moment, watching the boy’s small figure hunched slightly on the bed. Despite the sickness and exhaustion, there was something almost ethereal about Levi’s appearance. His black hair, unkempt and damp with sweat, framed his face in delicate strands. His skin, pale and feverish, gave him a fragile, almost doll-like quality. There was a beauty in his defiance, but also something deeply sad. Levi’s cheeks were flushed, remnants of the fever still lingering, and his slender fingers, almost dainty, pulled at the chain as if he could free himself through sheer determination.
Erwin sighed softly to himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d been struck by how young Levi looked—too young for the experiences he had endured. Too young to carry the kind of rage and resentment that seemed to fuel his every action. There was something childlike in the way Levi sat there, fidgeting with the chain, completely unaware of his surroundings.
With a quiet breath, Erwin moved closer, setting the breakfast tray down on the small table beside the bed. The sound of the tray clicking against the wood caught Levi’s attention, and he turned sharply, like a startled cat, his eyes wide and defensive. His heart leapt in his chest as he saw Erwin standing there, tall and imposing as always. Levi’s body tensed instinctively, his hand clutching the chain a little tighter.
Erwin greeted him calmly, his voice soft but firm. “Good morning, Levi.”
Levi didn’t respond immediately. He stared at Erwin, his brows furrowed in confusion. His mind was still foggy from the fever, and the sudden presence of Erwin, so close and calm, unsettled him. He blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red—not just from the fever, but from the sheer embarrassment of being caught off guard.
His eyes flickered to the food on the tray—simple porridge, a piece of bread, and a small cup of water. His stomach growled faintly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten much in days, but the thought of accepting food from Erwin, of all people, made him feel queasy. Erwin was the enemy. He couldn’t trust him. And yet, his body was too weak to fight the instinct to survive.
Erwin took a step closer, his expression neutral but assessing. He reached out, pressing the back of his hand against Levi’s flushed cheek, checking for signs of the fever. Levi flinched at the touch, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he tried to pull away, but Erwin’s hand was firm.
“You’re still warm, but not dangerously so,” Erwin remarked quietly, his eyes meeting Levi’s for a brief moment. He withdrew his hand and sighed softly. “That’s progress.”
Levi’s stomach twisted with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He hated being touched like that, like he was some delicate thing that needed to be cared for. It was humiliating. He wanted to push Erwin away, to scream at him, but his body felt too tired, too heavy. Instead, he glared up at him with as much defiance as he could muster, his lips pressed into a tight line.
Erwin didn’t seem fazed by the glare. Instead, he turned his attention back to the tray of food, picking up the small spoon and dipping it into the porridge. Without saying a word, he lifted the spoon to Levi’s lips, fully expecting him to eat.
Levi blinked, taken aback by the gesture. His mind was still sluggish, but the absurdity of the situation hit him like a cold wave. Erwin was trying to feed him—like he was some helpless child. It was degrading. Insulting. Levi’s pride flared up, and before he could stop himself, he swatted the spoon away with his hand. The porridge spilled onto the floor with a dull splat, staining the wood beneath them.
Erwin’s eyes narrowed slightly, his calm demeanor faltering just enough to show his displeasure. He let out a slow, measured breath, his gaze locking onto Levi’s as he lowered the spoon.
“Levi,” Erwin said, his tone firm but controlled, “don’t do that again.”
Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, his anger bubbling up despite his weakened state. He was confused—confused by Erwin’s calmness, confused by his own reaction, and most of all, confused by the situation he found himself in. Why was Erwin treating him like this? Why was he trying to feed him, to care for him? It made no sense. It felt like some kind of twisted joke.
“I don’t need you to feed me,” Levi spat, his voice hoarse but filled with venom. “I can eat by myself.”
Erwin didn’t react immediately. He stood there for a moment, watching Levi with an inscrutable expression. Then, without a word, he dipped the spoon back into the porridge and lifted it toward Levi’s mouth again.
Levi’s eyes widened in disbelief. What the hell was wrong with him? Was Erwin deaf? He had just told him that he could eat on his own! The humiliation was unbearable, but his body was too tired to resist properly. His limbs felt like lead, and the fever had drained whatever strength he had left.
“Open your mouth, Levi,” Erwin said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of authority that sent a chill down Levi’s spine. It wasn’t a request. It was an order.
Levi’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his pride screaming at him to refuse, to fight back, to do anything but comply. But Erwin’s gaze was piercing, unyielding, and Levi could feel his resolve crumbling under the weight of it. He hated this. He hated the way Erwin made him feel—like a child, like he was powerless.
Slowly, reluctantly, Levi opened his mouth, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and humiliation. Erwin carefully placed the spoonful of porridge in his mouth, and Levi swallowed it begrudgingly, his face burning with shame.
This was worse than any punishment he could have imagined.
“Good,” Erwin said softly, as though praising him for something so simple, so menial. Levi wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out and wipe that calm, composed expression off Erwin’s face, but he couldn’t. His body betrayed him, accepting the food without resistance.
When the bowl was finally empty, Erwin set it aside and reached for the syringe of medicine. Levi’s eyes followed the movement, his stomach knotting in dread. The syringe glinted in the morning light, and Levi felt a surge of panic rise in his chest.
“What the hell is that?” Levi asked, his voice sharper than he intended, though it came out weaker than he wanted.
“Your medicine,” Erwin replied simply, his tone devoid of emotion. “It will help bring down the rest of your fever.”
Levi’s breath hitched. The thought of Erwin giving him medicine like he was some child made his skin crawl. He didn’t want this—he didn’t want any of this. His whole body tensed as Erwin approached with the syringe, his heart racing with panic and humiliation.
“No,” Levi said quickly, his voice wavering. “I don’t need it.”
Erwin’s expression didn’t change. He continued to approach, the syringe steady in his hand. “You’re still sick, Levi. You need this to recover.”
Levi’s hands gripped the blanket beneath him, his knuckles turning white. “I said no!” he shouted, the desperation in his voice unmistakable. He didn’t want to be treated like this—like some helpless, weak thing. He wasn’t a child, damn it!
Erwin’s eyes softened, but his determination didn’t waver. “I’m sorry, Levi,” he said quietly, “but this isn’t up for debate.”
Before Levi could protest further, Erwin gently took hold of his arm, his grip firm but not painful. Levi’s body tensed, his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to pull away, but he was too weak. The fever had sapped his strength, leaving him powerless in Erwin’s hands.
The syringe pierced his skin with a small sting, and Levi flinched, his face burning with shame. This was the ultimate humiliation—being fed, being cared for, being given medicine like a child who couldn’t take care of himself. It was unbearable.
Levi’s breath was shaky as the medicine entered his system, his body relaxing involuntarily as the fever began to subside. He hated it—hated the way his body betrayed him, hated the way Erwin’s presence loomed over him like a shadow.
“There,” Erwin said softly as he withdrew the syringe, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Levi shot him a glare that could have burned a hole through stone. “You’re a monster,” he spat, but there was no heat behind the words, only exhaustion.
Erwin’s expression softened. “I’m just trying to help you, Levi. You’ll recover, and when you do, we can talk about what happened.”
Levi’s heart sank at the thought. He had no intention of talking about anything. He didn’t want to face the consequences of his actions, didn’t want to think about what would happen once he was well enough to leave this bed. But even more than that, he didn’t want to admit how much he had come to rely on Erwin’s presence, how much he hated that he found a flicker of comfort in the man’s care.
“Just leave me alone,” Levi mumbled, turning his face away, trying to block out Erwin’s gaze, trying to block out the world around him.
Erwin’s hand gently stroked Levi’s hair, a soothing motion that should have comforted him but only made him feel more trapped. “Rest, Levi. You’ll feel better soon,” he murmured, the warmth of his voice lingering in the air long after he left the room.
As Levi lay back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling, he felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He hated everything about this—hated that he was sick, hated that he was chained, hated that he felt anything other than anger. But most of all, he hated that deep down, part of him longed for the care that Erwin offered, even as he fought against it with every fiber of his being.
The battle within him raged on, but as the exhaustion began to pull him under, he couldn’t fight it any longer. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness, even if just for a moment.