Archive of Our Own ^beta

As he looks down on Shiganshina from atop the wall, Levi realizes something: it's gone. His hope is gone. Humanity's may be renewed, but his isn't. His hope passed with Erwin. His hope is laid alongside Erwin in that house.

Humanity may have won, everyone may live to see another day, but he lost. He lost the only man he'd lay down his life for. He lost the man who truly cared, not about his skills in combat, but about him . He lost the man he valued more than anyone else. He lost the man he loved.

He never admitted it—hell, he wasn't even sure of his own emotions until today—but with his cloak laid over Erwin's cold body, he wonders what could've been. Maybe, they could've been happy together. Maybe, they could've grown old together. Maybe, Erwin could've sucked the sadness out of Levi's soul. Now, though, he'll never know.

As he looks back, the stolen touches and long gazes take on a new meaning. When Erwin was here, Levi chalked it all up to reverence, possibly from both ends, but especially from himself. But, when Levi was outside The Walls and "flying," as Erwin would put it, Levi could see a glimmer in his eyes. He thought it was just Erwin seeing hope for humanity in him, but now he knows that there was something more. There was always "something more" between the two. 

As far as Levi's concerned, though, Erwin saved him. He saved him from a lifetime full of choices that he'll regret. Now, at least, when he dies, he'll die happy with one decision: following Erwin. Maybe, if there is an afterlife, he'll be able to meet him again. Levi will finally be able to admit how grateful he is for his commander, and he'll be able to tell him directly.

But, until death comes to take him as well, he'll have to be content with nothing more than memories.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"I'm sorry?" Erwin looks at him, eyebrows slightly cocked.

"You heard me just right, Captain. Don't play dumb," Levi shoots back.

So what if he was never taught how to write? It's not like he ever needed to know how. He could read–and fairly quickly, at that–and he got through life just fine. He doesn't need some stuck-up captain to teach him how. He's a fully capable adult, not a small child, fully dependent on Captain Erwin Smith.

"One of these days, you'll have to learn how. Once you rise up the ranks, you'll have to write reports and sign death certificates. You'll have to know eventually," Erwin says.

Please, "rise up the ranks ," Levi thinks, like I even want to do that. Going outside the Walls and having to deal with the bureaucracy of Mitras hardly sounds enjoyable.

"Levi, please, if nothing else, let me teach you how to write your name."

As his eyes meet Erwin's, he notices a glimmer in his eyes. Levi can tell that he sees something in him. Maybe calling it a "glimmer of hope" would be too grandiose, but there's something there. Admiration is wrong, too; there's no way it would be that. Maybe he'll never figure out what goes on through the captain's head. Maybe that's for the best.

It's odd , Levi thinks, maybe the captain is just insane, though.

He takes another good look at Erwin. That odd glimmer is still there, continuing to off-put Levi. But, knowing it won't go away, he concedes.

"Fine. Only my name, though."

Levi walks himself closer to the desk sitting in Erwin's room. As he does, Erwin grabs a fresh sheet of paper from one of the many drawers. Levi wonders how many sheets he has squirreled away in there, and how many of them are blank death certificates, just waiting to be signed.

Erwin makes room for him on the bench he's sitting on. Levi rolls his eyes. He can't believe he's not only letting Erwin teach him how to write, but also letting himself sit so close to someone he swore to kill. A month ago, he would've scoffed at the idea and called himself pathetic. Now, he can't find the willpower to kick himself in the ass.

"Here, hold the pen between your middle and index finger. Push your thumb against it." Erwin takes another pen and demonstrates. Levi tries to copy him. His grip looks like a garbled mess compared to his.

Before he has a chance to readjust, Erwin takes his hand and changes his grip. It's a gentle touch, one that is barely even there, but Levi still feels it. If he were a different man, he would've called it nice, but he can't give that gratification to Erwin, even if he can't hear it. Now, his grip looks identical to Erwin's. Levi's grateful that he doesn't have to struggle and humiliate himself over a pen grip , but he still glares at Erwin. No one's ever been gutsy enough to touch him, especially without Levi's permission. If he was a different person, he would've punched him immediately. But, since it's Erwin, he bites his tongue.

"Your name is fairly simple to write; it's mostly just straight lines," Erwin mentions.

He demonstrates his statement by writing down Levi's name. He's slow and methodical in his strokes, making sure Levi understands every movement of the pen. He should feel patronized, but all he does is stare and try to commit every line to memory. 

Once Erwin has written out his name a few times, Levi goes to write his name down. He writes slowly, and his letters are shaky. He has good grip strength and great fine motor skills (he can grip his knives just fine) but his letters are still shaky. It's frustrating. He should be able to quickly master something so simple that small children can do it.

He sighs and goes to re-write his name. Now, he's determined to make it look just as good as Erwin's rendition, hopefully better, even. No way he lets Erwin be better than him at something so simple.

So, he sits next to Erwin and writes his name until his hand cramps up. As he sets his pen down, he looks over to Erwin's paper. His writing still isn't as good as the captain's. Before he can go to self-flagellate over something that should be so effortless, Erwin goes to speak.

"It looks good, Levi. You're improving quickly."

Right, like hell I am, Levi thinks. If this is what the Survey Corps considers "improvement," then I'd hate to see what they consider "adequate."

"I'm being serious, Levi. You're being too harsh on yourself."

"You really like my name, huh?"

Erwin just stares at him. 

"It's in every sentence you say to me. You know it's just us in this room, right? It's okay to just speak normally."

"I suppose you're right... I quite enjoy it, though. It suits you."

Levi scoffs. Flattery has never worked on him, and he won't let it start now, so he picks up his pen again. He goes back to writing his name, comparing every letter and stroke to the pristine version of Erwin's paper, just as he did before. 

"Want me to show you again?" Erwin questions.

"Like hell I do."

"Right. Noted."

As time continues to tick by, Levi begins to fill up the entire page with his name. One name, a mere four letters long, is scribbled over 300 times on Levi's paper. Each version is slightly better than the former. His letters become less wobbly, and each stroke becomes more defined. Erwin looks at his paper with a slight smile on his lips. 

"I wouldn't get too proud, Captain. This is the bare minimum for anyone else."

"You're a natural at everything you do, aren't you?"

Now it's Levi's turn to stare, disgust plastered on his face.

"Right, yeah, I sure am," he says as flatly as possible.

Erwin flips his page over and picks his pen up once more. He’s just gonna brush that comment off?

"Now, what about your last name? Think you can stomach learning how to write that, too?" Erwin asks, with a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“Don’t have one.”

"I'm sorry?"

"Stop saying that. And stop acting like you’re deaf, you can understand what I say just fine; I don't have a last name."

Erwin looks at him as if he just transformed into a titan. It's not an unheard of practice in The Underground. Like in Levi's case, people are simply never given one, or they disown their parents and do away with it. People don't tend to make up new last names for themselves, so they just get rid of the concept entirely.

"Why were you never given one?"

"My mother just never felt the need to give me one." 

It's a half-truth, but a truth nonetheless. Although Levi's mother died when he was young, he was still able to figure out why he was never told his last name: she was embarrassed. She was embarrassed about being a prostitute and didn't want her son to be associated with that. It's a noble enough sentiment, Levi supposes, but it doesn't ease the sting. Coming from a family where even your last name is something you should hide isn't necessarily easy.

Things get awkwardly silent between the two. A few minutes ago, Levi could ignore it. He had a task, something to focus on, so it didn't bother him. Now, with his page full (and his unwillingness to get a second sheet) he has nothing to focus on. Silence has never bothered him before–in fact, he enjoyed it when things were quiet in The Underground–but, for some unknown reason, he can't stand this.

"Would you like one?"

If Levi was sipping on tea, now would be the time he'd spit it out.

"Huh?"

"For once you get promoted. You'll need a last name to be addressed with. It'll be disrespectful for young soldiers to call you by your first name."

Again with the "promotion" talk. Truly, it's a lunatic's favorite word.

"They can use my first name and my title, then. It's not a difficult concept to understand."

Erwin hesitates for a moment, before mumbling, "Right. You're right. Sorry I brought it up."

Things fall quiet between them once more, and Levi takes it as his chance to leave. He doesn't want to think about that conversation for a millisecond more than he has to. 

He leaves the paper and Erwin's pen behind, not wanting to be reminded of what he said, and walks out of his room. Despite the awkward end, some deeply buried part of Levi enjoyed the one-on-one time with the captain. He's a deeply strange man, but he's intriguing. So, as the door shuts, a small smile spreads across Levi's face.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Levi takes the back of his hand and rests it on his forehead, pushing his hair out of the way. Then, he takes the inside of the wrist and puts it in the same spot. He lets it sit there for a moment, trying to come to terms with what he's feeling: he's sick. He's burning up.

There's no illness going around the barracks, at least not to his knowledge. People of all ranks have been acting normal for the past few weeks, not showing any signs of sickness or fatigue. They're all training as normal. They're all getting ready for the next expedition outside the Walls as usual. Yet, here Levi is, sitting on his bed and trying to figure out ways to not go to the infirmary. 

He's fought through many kinds of injuries before. Broken bones, deep cuts, and torn muscles have never kept him down, and he'll be damned if he lets an illness be the straw that broke the camel's back.

But, as he sits up, he feels nothing but sore. His entire body feels as if it was used to its absolute max, then thrown aside and left to rot. It'll be hell to work through, but he'll force himself to. He's much too valuable of a soldier to have rest for (what could end up being) a week.

So, he forces himself out of his shabby bed. As he stands up, he has to grab the headboard to steady himself. Levi sighs, disappointed that something as simple as disease is the thing that takes the better of him. 

He trudges over to the small closet where he keeps his clothes and throws on a gray undershirt. His arms ache as he slides the sleeves on. Then, his hands shake and sweat as he goes to button up his shirt. Another sigh leaves his mouth.

Levi continues to throw on his clothes. By the time he finishes putting on his boots, he can't move a single inch without pain shooting through his body. It's not like the pain he's used to; it's not one he's had to push though before. But, any soldier worth his weight in salt has to live up to his nickname, so Levi has to live up to the title of Humanity's Strongest. Letting a disease best him would be an utter betrayal of that name.

His trembling hands rest on the doorknob as he tries to find the strength to turn it. Physical strength has always come easily to Levi, so this sudden onset of weakness is not necessarily appreciated. But, he'll just have to deal with it. It's what makes him a good soldier.

He turns the knob, stiffening his back in order to prepare for everything he has to do today. But, as the door creaks open, he spots Erwin standing by the door. He's leaning against the wall across from the door with his arms crossed. 

Weird-ass.

"Whatever it is, it cannot possibly be this important," Levi dryly states.

"Take the day off, you're sick."

What?

"I'm fine. I don't know where you got that idea from." He avoids Erwin's eyes when saying that. Whatever sickness this is developed overnight; he has no clue how he knows that.

"Look at yourself, Levi. You're paler than usual."

He shoots Erwin a glare. "Thanks for pointing that out, Eyebrows. Now, please, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me leave my own room."

Erwin sighs. "You're taking the day off, Captain, that's an order. Whether you'd like to spend it in your own bed or in one of the infirmary's is up to you, though."

"Do you enjoy ordering me around like I'm a dog?"

"When it's in your best interest, yes, I find it quite nice."

Levi scoffs. "Are you at least gonna let me get some breakfast?"

"I'll get it for you. Go lay down."

There's no winning with this guy, is there?

Knowing that arguing is pointless now, Levi shuts the door and walks back to his bed. Taking a day off makes him feel useless. If he sits around for too long, his skills might get rusty. Rusty soldiers die outside the Walls, and if he dies, humanity is down the strength of 100 soldiers. He's too valuable to have lounge around.

Erwin knocks before letting himself in. He's carrying a bowl, with what Levi assumes to be full of broth, and a cup full of tea. He sets it down on the small, round table near Levi's bed, knowing that he would never agree to actually eating a meal in bed. How Erwin caught wind of his tidiness, Levi doesn't know, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't appreciate it. There's only so much kindness to go around in the world, and Levi's glad he can experience a sliver of it.

As he sits down at the table, he catches a whiff of the tea Erwin brought him. It smells citrusy and fresh, most likely some form of Earl Grey, and Levi can't help but grin. 

"You're gonna break the bank over me, Erwin. I don't need this sort of luxury."

"You deserve the luxury, though. You deserve to take time off and rest."

"Yourself, as well."

"Please, my day consists of writing meaningless paperwork and signing off on death certificates. You actually fight." 

"And you don't? Erwin–" He's abruptly cut off and begins to cough. He can feel it shake his whole chest, his lungs trying to force out all the phlegm. He can't stop, even though he wants nothing more to. He wants to save himself from the embarrassment that comes with being so weak in front of Erwin. His body lights up in pain from how hard he's hacking up phlegm.

"Levi?" A look of panic spreads across Erwin's face. He takes Levi's teacup and lifts it up to his mouth, urging him to take a sip. He can't find the time to take a sip in between the coughs, though.

"I'll go grab some honey; it should help." Erwin rushes out of the room.

Over the next minute, Levi's coughing fit slows down. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to bring down his adrenaline levels. With his cup in hand, he relaxes his back against the chair. As he does, Erwin steps back in with a jar of honey in hand. 

"You can put it back. I don't need it anymore," Levi mutters, not making eye contact with Erwin.

"Just have a spoonful, Levi. It'll stop you from having another one.”

"That sounds like it'll only make me gag more."

"Put it in your tea, then. It'll go down easier."

"And tarnish my luxury tea? Have you fully lost your mind, Commander?"

"I suppose I have. Though, I am shocked that this is what did it, not leading all those children to die."

Levi stiffens at the comment as Erwin sits at the table with him. It's odd hearing such a vulnerable, human comment from Erwin. For the majority of the day, he has to take on the persona of Commander Erwin Smith, a selfless, stoic leader who sacrifices everything in the name of humanity. Rarely does anyone, Levi included, get to see this side of the commander. Erwin Smith, out of his uniform, is a much more reserved man, and the impact of the blood on his hands rears its ugly head. When he's out of uniform, he has the chance to mourn his fallen comrades. It’s a rare sight.

The room falls awkwardly silent for a few minutes. Levi takes another sip of his tea (with honey in it), trying to string together the right thing to say. It doesn't come naturally to him.

"They knew what they were signing up for, Erwin," Levi utters. "None of them were forced into this."

"I forced you into it, didn't I?"

"You've never had the power to force me into anything. Every decision I've made has been," Levi gets cut off by a sneeze, "my own."

A small smile spreads across Erwin's face at the sight of Levi sneezing. For someone as standoffish as he is, it sure is funny to hear him sneeze like a kitten.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Commander. Nothing's funny about being sick." Levi pouts.

"I apologize. It was a little funny, though," Erwin mumbles the last part of his statement.

"You should take your leave, for your sake." Levi fakes a threat.

"Right, well, rest up, Levi. You deserve it."

As Erwin stands up, a much more gentle grin appears on his face. He seems much more at ease and less stressed. It's such an uncommon expression to see on him, but it's highly appreciated and valued, by Levi, at least.

Erwin leaves his room and sneaks one last glimpse at Levi. Levi pretends not to notice.

Rest up, Erwin, Levi thinks. You deserve it as well.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"You're tired," Levi blurts, taking Erwin off-guard. "You should go to sleep."

"I'm just fine, Levi. The sun isn't even fully down yet."

Erwin is sitting at his desk, writing some paperwork. He's been there for hours, hemming and hawing over the verbiage over some proposition. Levi told him to just write something and call it a day, but with the volatile state the Scouts are in, he refuses to do so. Eventually, Levi brought them both something to eat from the kitchen. He used dinner as an excuse to pull Erwin out of his work, even if it was only for a half hour.

Immediately, he goes back to work. Every so often, Levi tries to pull him out of his bubble by trying to talk to him, but he is always either shooed away or ignored. He knows it's pointless every time, yet he never gives up. Pulling Erwin away from his work will only do him good, even if he doesn't realize it.

There's still a stack of paper beside Erwin. Levi takes a look, and it's nothing but meaningless documents that are only meant to be some sort of paper trail. What it's for, he's not exactly sure, but he's sure that it's pointless and only wasting Erwin's time. To hell with Mitras and its bureaucracy.

"Let me sign these for you. It'll cut down on time," Levi says.

"There's nothing for you to sign," Erwin mindlessly retorts, not looking up from the paper in front of him.

"So what? I can forge your signature just fine."

“No.” The retort is curt, signaling Levi to let him be. Although, Levi chooses to not pick up on the subtext.

“You need a break.”

“Don’t we all,” he dully replies.

”Erwin.”

His hand finally stops writing, and he looks up. There are bags under his eyes, which look worse than usual. He looks utterly exhausted. Erwin's always said that this exhaustion comes with the territory of being commander, but it's starting to hit unprecedented, unacceptable levels, at least according to Levi. Erwin won't believe him if he brings it up.

Levi takes a chair and pulls it up to Erwin's desk. He sits there, staring at him, waiting for him to put his pen down for the night. He never does, though. Almost as quickly as he puts it down, Erwin picks his pen back up and continues to write. Levi knows his waiting is in vain, but he continues anyway. 

Erwin mumbles to himself, "Maybe 'necessity' is too harsh of a word. Though, the only way to get a message through to everyone at Mitras is to be harsh..."

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Levi demands.

"It's my job as commander."

"You know that's not what I'm asking."

It's subtle, but Levi can hear his breath hitch. No one else would've, or could've, noticed it. But, with the amount of time they've spent together, he's learned to read Erwin's nonverbal queues. Whether or not he listens to said queues, though, is a different question. He chooses to not listen to this one and press Erwin on the topic further. 

"No normal person practically works himself to death like this."

Erwin chuckles. "I've never claimed to be normal." 

"Being weird isn't an excuse to kill yourself."

"I'm not trying to kill myself, Levi. Don't be ridiculous."

"When was the last time you've even slept through the night? Are you even aware of how much you've been abusing yourself?"

"I know, but my comfortability is a small price to pay for the betterment of humanity."

"Why are you acting so self-righteous?"

"I'm not acting 'self-righteous,' I just play an immense role in humanity's fight."

"No one fights this hard strictly for humanity's sake. What's your real motivation?"

A slight look of shock appears on Erwin's face. Then, his expression changes just as quickly as the first one appears. It's clear that he's contemplating something, though Levi can't tell what it is. This is the first time in a long time that Levi can’t tell what his commander is thinking.

"What makes you want to know?" Erwin asks, his interest piqued.

Levi shrugs. "I'm curious.”

He hesitates. “My father, he was a history teacher. He taught us the ‘official’ version of events, if you will; humanity took refuge behind the Walls 100 years ago, and everyone beyond them was wiped out,” Erwin pauses, careful of how he words himself. “But I had my doubts. The wording in the textbooks was intentionally vague, so I asked my father about it…” He trails off, lost in the memory.

Levi lets him sit and silence and gather his thoughts. It’s clearly not something he wishes to remember.

“Listen, Erwin, I’m sorry if–“

“No, no, you should know about this. Just… allow me a moment to compose myself.”

Maybe I pried a bit too much.

Erwin continues, “My father agreed with my thoughts; the history books were full of contradictions that led to more questions than answers. And, as the ignorant child I was, I spread that around to my classmates. Then, the next day, I came home from the local market, but… my father never did. His death led to my dream: to prove that humanity still exists outside the Walls.” 

As Erwin’s speech concludes, it’s clear to them both that the atmosphere in the room has changed. It’s much less tense, and it feels like a boulder was lifted off Erwin’s shoulders. He’s kept the theory to himself for so long; it felt nice to finally let someone else in on it.

“So…” Erwin begins, “what about you?”

Levi perks back up, getting out of his head. “What about me?”

“Why did you– do you–fight?”

“Oh,” Levi says, “you want to know my backstory.”

“I suppose.”

"There's not much to it. I was born in the Underground, my mother died young, I was picked up by Kenny the Ripper, and now I'm here. Not as noble as your reason, huh?"

"Well... I think so."

"Mhm, I'm sure you do," Levi says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"No, I really do. You had to fight, long and hard, just to survive. I think wanting to live is a pretty noble cause."

The room falls into a much more comfortable silence. Maybe he’s right , Levi thinks. As he looks back on his memories of the Underground, every unsavory action was taken in self-defense. He was always provoked to fight; he never sought out violence. He was backed into a corner, forced to become who he is today because of the circumstances he was born into. 

Both of us were , Levi thinks as he dwells on Erwin’s confession for longer. His father’s murder drove Erwin to join the Scouts, and the death of Kuchel drove Levi to become a criminal in the Underground.

Maybe we’re not all that different, after all. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

As he enters Erwin's room, Levi can feel his searing-hot stare. He knows he messed up, but he cannot be bothered to feel bad about it. Erwin can be pissed all he wants, but those stuck-up assholes at Mitras deserve to be yelled at every once and awhile.

He already knows the conversation he's about to have with his commander. Something about the integrity of the Scouts, about how they need funding to progress humanity's victory, and to learn when and where to keep his mouth shut. It doesn't particularly matter to Levi, though. Kissing ass was never a specialty of his, and he can only take so many insults until he snaps. He can only handle so much blatant disrespect toward Erwin before he has to say something.

Erwin, on the other hand, seemed dead-set on letting everything go. He was called a mass-murderer to his face, yet he didn't even react. Those hypocritical, self-righteous assholes who've never known a day of struggle in their lives sneered and scoffed at Erwin and his ideas, and he just sat there and feigned acceptance of their words. Or, at least, Levi hopes he feigned acceptance. 

He takes another look at his commander, and he's just as mad as he was when he first stepped in his room. So, he leans against the closed door, waiting for Erwin to speak. He waits, and waits, and waits, yet Erwin never speaks. He just stares. Though, his expression isn't as sharp now. 

"If this is some sort of weird intimidation tactic, it's not working. I stand by everything I said," Levi points out.

“Sit down."

"I'm fine right here."

"Sit down, Levi. Don't make me pull rank on you."

He sits with a sigh. Levi pulls his chair uncomfortably close to Erwin's, but he doesn't move it. He stays in that exact spot for minutes, waiting for any words to fall out of his commander's mouth.

"You can't just insult the people who provide the Scouts with funding." Erwin takes a long, slow exhale. "I know that you don't necessarily... agree with their choice of words, but..." He pauses.

"But what," Levi asks, expressionless.

"But, they're allowed to have opinions–about all of us. They're allowed to voice them, as well."

"You're just okay with them calling you a mass-murderer? And to your face?"

He hesitates before whispering, "I never said that." His eyes change focus toward the ground below him, and away from Levi.

With that, a certain small gleam of light leaves Erwin's eyes. Levi's seen this look from him only a few times before, though he doubts anyone else has ever seen it. It only comes out late at night, when Erwin has the chance to remember. Only rarely does he have a chance to, because most days he simply passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

It's abundantly clear, at least to Levi, that he's exhausted–both mentally and physically. He's been fighting for too long; he shouldn't have to deal with constant calumnies as well.

"So then why do you act like you're fine with it? I know you have a backbone, Commander, why do you never use it?"

"It wouldn't be proper to fight with them. It's better for me to bear the brunt of their attacks because, at the end of the day, we–"

"Would you please stop acting like humanity's sacrificial lamb? You're no better than them because you keep your mouth shut. It makes you more pathetic, if anything."

In truth, he can never see Erwin as pathetic. He's an excellent commander, worthy of his respect, but he's also so much more than that. Erwin Smith, the person, not the commander, is an empathetic man at his core. He saw something in Levi–believed in him–when everyone else viewed him as a lowlife. He’s got a soft spot, a spot that only Levi gets to see.

"We swore an oath, Levi. Humanity's progress matters more than anything else."

" You swore an oath, not me."

Erwin's back stiffens. His eyes dart back to Levi's, finally away from the ground. 

"I've never had a commitment to humanity," Levi continues. "You picked me off the streets of the Underground; I never had to sit through one of your speeches that scared recruits into joining the Scouts. I just... did."

"Nevertheless," Erwin hesitates, clearly struggling to find the right words, "the Survey Corps' mission is to–"

"To hell with the Survey Corps, Erwin! Don't you get it?" He stands, getting into Erwin's personal space. "My oath is to you and your dream, not to anyone else's, and certainly not to some vague, distant idea of humanity's victory. That's why I can't stand to see them insult you, because you're my hope!"

His eyes widen at the confession, eyes locked with Levi's. Shocked at his own outpouring of emotion, he stays where his feet, not his mind, led him, which is all too close to Erwin. Neither back up. Neither break eye contact. Both hesitate to speak.

"I hope you realize what this means for you," Erwin says in a hushed tone. 

The basement. Erwin's dream is the basement. It’ll probably kill him.

"I do. I don't care."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The sun begins to set over Shiganshina. It paints airbrushed hues of yellow and orange across the sky, staining Levi's face in its color. Other days, he would have revelled in its warmth, but he can't find the strength to today. His drive, the fire in his heart, is almost completely gone. 

Soon, nightfall will come, and Hange will order a retreat. What little remains of the Scouts will have to walk through the gates of Wall Rose with their heads hung low. The commoners will cheer them on, overjoyed that humanity has won, but their cheers will be nothing more than meaningless noise to Levi. Soon, he'll have to head back without Erwin.

He split off from Hange, Eren, and Mikasa some hours ago. He doesn't know how long it's been, nor does he want to. He wants to keep his memories of Erwin as close to the present as he possibly can.

The blood-stained cape falls off his shoulders after he unbuttons it. It's colder without it, but he doesn't feel it. Or rather, he chooses not to feel it. The only thing that matters to him right now is the sight before him: Erwin's corpse lying on a bed far too small for his body. 

"You were right, Erwin. About everything." He doesn't know why he's talking to a man who can't respond. Maybe, some part of Levi hopes that he can still hear him. Somewhere in the afterlife, maybe Erwin is nodding along to every word that he says. Levi can only hope.

"Humanity still exists outside The Walls. Jaeger's basement proved it." He feels a pit open at the bottom of his stomach. He tries to ignore it. It doesn't work for long.

"There aren't a lot of us left. But, your charge saved us... Thank you." The pit begins to swallow Levi whole.

He kneels before Erwin's body, taking his hand in his. It's already cold and rigid. What an odd sensation to feel from the man who, only a few hours ago, was commanding the entirety of the Survey Corps. Now, the man who once stood as stiff as a statue against the Armored Titan is reduced to nothing more than a chilled corpse. His body will rot all the same as the many people he sent to die for his dream. 

"You once told me that a regretful memory will only dull my next decision." His grip on Erwin's hand tightens. "I resented you for that, you know. But... I think I get it now, truly."

With his eyes shut and mouth slightly agape, Levi can't help but notice that Erwin finally looks at peace. That permanent furrow in his brows isn't there anymore. His jaw isn't clenched shut. In some weird way, he looks younger, like his dream hasn't entirely consumed him yet.

"I don't regret not choosing you Erwin, but..." I'll miss you.

The sunlight that's been shining through the window has almost completely dissipated by now. That's Levi's cue to leave, yet he cannot find the resolve to get off the dusty floor. He can't bring himself to have a final goodbye with his commander.

"One day, I'll come back and give you a proper burial, I promise." 

The room falls silent. Levi soaks in the sight around him, and he lets the meaning of it all sink in. His hope, his reason to fight, is gone. The sole person he devoted himself to is lying cold and lifeless, and there's nothing he can do about it, not anymore at least. He'll have to figure out how to live without the person he took every step with, the one person who truly understood him.

Levi stands up, finally releasing his grasp of Erwin's hand. Every force in his body is telling him to pick it up again, to hold tight and never let go, but he knows he has to. He has a final promise to fulfill, after all.

Warm hands cup the cheeks of a cold face, and all Levi does is stare. The pit finally swallows him whole, and he watches tears drip onto Erwin's face. His own tears trickle down another man's face. They're not wiped away. Erwin's arm doesn't come up to wipe them off himself, nor does it wipe away the tears from Levi's eyes. 

The bed Erwin lays on divots with the added pressure of Levi's knee. He brings his head down to Erwin's own and places a chaste kiss on his now purple lips.

"I'll see you later, Erwin."

The tears continue to flow, and Levi does nothing to stop them.