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Levi wasn’t one to believe in having regrets; he never did. But as he descended the staircase to Eren’s prison cell, the echoing of his footsteps in time with his beating heart, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt.
Levi knew that Eren hated the basement; and understandably so. The lower floors of the MP’s facilities were considerably darker than the rest of the floors, and by the time one reached the staircase leading to the bottom most floor of the prison, the light was so poor that one could barely see a foot in front of them. Having grown far too accustomed to the natural sunlight above and beyond the walls, his days in the Underground far behind him, Levi needed to squint in order to ensure his steps were precise as he made his way down the long, cobble stoned staircase, the dim lighting of the torch–lined corridors casting just as many shadows as they provided light. Not only was the lighting abysmal, but the air grew dank and colder which each step Levi took, the further he descended. His first instinct was to place his fingertips against the wall as he made his way down the staircase, but the thought alone of touching the cold, wet – and what he was sure to be dusty – stone made Levi’s skin crawl.
Sure, it was a prison; the conditions were never going to be – and should never be – akin to that of a castle, but that didn’t make Eren’s disdain with the conditions any less unfounded. Paying a mere visit to its corridors left Levi on edge – he could only imagine what it felt to be housed in its cells.
Once he reached the bottom of the staircase, Levi took the lantern he instructed one of the guards to leave on the floor and continued on his way to Eren’s cell. He requested that no one else be present while they spoke – even going so far as to have Ackerman temporarily relocated until they were done. This was a conversation for his and Eren’s ears alone.
Eren was sitting on the floor of his cell, his back up against the bars, two bars encased between the gap of his shoulder blades. A soft sound, a mix between a hiccup and a sob, passed the young man’s lips, and his shoulders shook against the bars. Through the outline of his clothes Levi could see the young man’s defined shoulder blades, which caressed and curved around the steel bars.
He had lost weight. He had lost weight, and Levi hated it.
“… I understand the bed not being to your liking, but surely it’s more comfortable than that.”
Levi’s voice shook Eren out of his stupor. The young man sniffed, wiping at his eyes and turning slightly to see the corporal.
“Corporal Levi…” Eren’s arms instinctively jerked to salute, but his shackles stopped his fist before he could bring it to beat against his chest. “What are you––”
“I wanted to speak with you.” Levi explained, his eyes darting to the wooden chair propped up against the wall in between the two cells. That most have been were Arlert was camping out. There were no rules that deterred prison visitors, no rules in favor of keeping any single prisoner in solitary confinement, so neither he nor Hanji could stop the blonde from sitting outside of the bars that held his friends. For days, Arlert hadn’t left either of their sides – except for now, and only because he had been ordered to do so. So lost in his thoughts was Eren that he didn’t even noticed he had left, didn’t even notice that the life that he fought so hard to defend, the life that had gotten him jailed in the first place, had momentarily left his side. “Do you mind?”
“No, please…” Eren shook his head, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
The kid looked and sounded like a mess. His voice had lost its usual bark, the once sparkle in his eye now gone. Levi was looking at a completely different young man now than the one he had met months ago in this same exact jail cell, than the one he had looked down upon, who was shackled to a stake and kneeling on the ground, during his first trial in court, when he drove his knee into his mouth.
Just days ago Levi had done the same with his fist, only this time it wasn’t an act, this time it wasn’t a show in order to win someone’s favor. No, the way he hit Eren on that roof was something else entirely, and Levi’s stomach sank and turned at the memory of it now.
“I wanted to make things perfectly clear…” Levi looked down at Eren from where he remained sitting on the cell floor. Never before had Levi needed to look down at Eren, and it made him scowl. “It wasn’t under my order that the two of you were locked up. It was all Hanji.” A pause. “… Quite frankly, I don’t think you even did anything to warrant being in here. You were disobedient, yes; you were a dog disobeying his master, yes; but you didn’t lay a finger on me like Ackerman did.” Levi said, quoting the very metaphor he used that day in court when he and Eren first met, the words that ultimately swayed Zackley’s decision to hand Eren over to the care of the Survey Corps over the Military Police. “… Besides, it’d be hypocritical of me to punish you for not being a ‘good, obedient soldier’ when I was far from the same when I first joined myself.”
The last part was meant to be a thought, but contrary to his better judgement Levi let the words flow free from his lips. Normally he wasn’t one for laying out reasoning or banter, but, given the circumstances, he felt Eren needed to hear it. Levi had put his days, the life, he formerly lived in the Underground behind him. He had set aside a life of living in filth, dirt, and darkness in the slums; a life where he thrived, where he lived, off of making a profit from others losses – where he stole and did in secret whatever was necessary in order to survive. He had set aside a life filled with former comrades, those who perished at his own hand due to his arrogance, his negligence, and his pride. As much as Levi tried, as much as he forced himself to leave that portion of his life behind, force himself to remember now only a life of where he was accustomed to the sunlight, if strong enough rays caught his eyes, if he was forced to squint enough, he couldn’t help but remember how badly they stung when he saw sunlight for the first time.
Yes, his whole youth, the very way he lived his life, even when he first entered the Survey Corps, was an existence of nothing but disobedience. He had no right to punish Eren for doing the same.
For the first time in days, the ghost of a smile past Eren’s lips, his lips just barely curling on the edges. “Thank you, Corporal…” Eren sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I didn’t think that was the case, but it’s reassuring to hear it come from you nonetheless…”
“You’ve heard me say time and time again…” Levi started, placing the lamp down on the floor between him and Eren. “That I believe pain to be the most effective form of discipline. I still think that now – precept over reprimand…” Levi’s eyes wandered to the shackles that bound Eren’s arms, arm length chains that receded into the stone floors of the cell. “… Personally, I don’t understand what good giving you a time out does…”
Eren chuckled nervously, the way he usually laughed when Levi told one of his characteristically bad jokes. “You’d be surprised…” A pause. “… I… I’ve been thinking a lot, lately… There’s not much else I can do besides that…” Eren shifted so that his back was once again more fully turned to Levi, the angular lines of his shoulder blades once again caressing the bars. “My father… his memories, they’ve been coming back to me, and I… and…” Eren’s voice cracked, the chains that bound his hands skirting against the stone floor as he shifted to wipe at his face. “I used to think that this world was terrible… that it was a living hell, but somehow there was something I could do to fight against it…” Eren laughed bitterly, choking out a sob. “I was wrong, Corporal. I was so, so wrong. This world is so much worse that I even could have imagined…!! …and the worst part is, now I know there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it…!!”
No. No, no, no, Eren, you’re wrong, Levi wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words past his lips, no more than thoughts stuck on his tongue. You’re the only one who can do anything; you’ve always been the only one who could fight against this world. But all Levi could focus on was how weak and defeated Eren sounded, how the sobs and sniffs that claimed his voice were more solemn than he had ever heard. The young man who sat before him was a shell of the Eren Jaeger whom he had first met – the real Eren Jaeger; the angry, impulsive, head strong, cocky, idiotic, courageous, endearing Eren Jaeger.
Before Levi could offer a rebuttal, Eren spoke up again. “… I miss Commander Erwin.” He confessed, his voice soft. “I–It’s not that I don’t trust Han––Commander Hanji, it’s just…” Eren let out a breath, a small, defeated sound passing his lips. “… What are we… what are we supposed to do without him? The Commander… he always knew what to do next, always had a clear endgame in mind. But now…”
“What are we supposed to do now that everything’s changed?” Levi offered, finishing the sentence on Eren’s behalf. He hadn’t yet heard the details of the memories that were resurfacing in Eren’s memory. Rather than pouring through the pages of barely legible drivel written in his father’s notebooks, Levi passed the journals over to Hanji, preferring to hear the memories, the truth, straight from Eren’s lips instead, after seeing them replay in his mind’s eye. But Levi could imagine, just with every step close they had taken to discovering the truth of the titans, that those memories had changed everything. They were progressing further and further through this maze, but just when they thought they had reached the end, just when they thought they had finally discovered the truth, a new twist or turn had been thrown in front of them, extending their journey. Levi may not have been sure of the details, but it was evident in Eren’s eyes – how his pupils were dilated in fear, how the green in his eyes has darkened like the way the night sky did in the wake of a storm. Turmoil. Distraught. Fear. The realization of having lost one’s grip, of having one’s own weight collapse beneath them in defeat. That much Levi could tell.
“Hmm…” Eren nodded softly, glancing back at Levi.
Levi sighed, shifting to sit on the prison floor (ignoring his better judgement that screamed at him, warning him of all the possibilities of dirty, filth, and contaminants on the floor) and pressing his back up against the cell bars, against Eren’s back. He pressed his back into the bars, tilted his head back, making sure Eren could at least feel traces of his shoulders, back, and hair touching his own.
First instinct inclined him to say something along the lines of “I told you so,” but Levi knew that if he even dared to have had gall to say it, it was not only the right time, but it was a bold faced lie. He preached, believed in the philosophy, of living with choices that were ultimate – that existed and lived and breathed in their own right as one did their own life, continuing on in finality, with no regrets. The choice that Levi had made was no exception.
“Erwin…” Levi started, leaning against Eren’s back as much as he possibly could with the bars hindering, separating the two of them. “He… for everything he had done, he wasn’t a good leader, Eren––”
“How can you say that?!” Levi heard Eren’s chains rattle, and he turned to see Eren attempting to stand. “Commander Erwin… he did so much…! It was thanks to him that we were able to reclaim Wall Maria, it was thanks to him that––!”
“For someone who stood before me and advocated to save the life of their friend over him, you’re certainly singing the Commander’s praises now.” Levi gave Eren a firm look. For a brief moment, Levi saw in Eren’s eyes the look of the old Eren – that familiar spark of rage, of anger, of resilience. Levi wanted to do everything in his power to keep that look there, to make sure Eren never regressed from that part of himself again – but he was going to do it on his own terms. “Now, let me explain. Sit back down.”
Levi turned around, and a few moments later he felt the familiar warmth and weight of Eren’s back against his own. “Yes, it is true that it was thanks to Erwin’s initiative that the Survey Corps has been able to make it as hard as they have. Erwin had suspected this corruption for years; that suspicion is what fueled our reclaiming of Wall Maria, and what we can now claim as truth, thanks to that basement of your father’s. It was thanks to Erwin that we had direction; it was thanks to Erwin that we had a plan of action; it was thanks to Erwin that we had motivation; That cannot be denied…”
Levi’s voice trailed off as his mind wandered, to the very last conversation he ever had with Erwin. He recalled the way the other man slummed over a cargo box, his thighs straddling the makeshift seat as he buried his face in his hand, a defeated, selfish, last desire slipping through his fingers is a hushed breath. I really wanted to reach that basement. Never before had Levi seen Erwin so vulnerable, so defeated, so having accepted the fate that lie before him. Like Eren, Erwin made his way through the world kicking and screaming, fighting for his ideals and sticking to his beliefs, so matter how foolish nor idiotic he appeared to be in the eyes of others.
But in that moment, that’s where the two had varied. For the first time in his life, Levi had seen that Erwin had given up – had accepted defeat, and his impending death – the same way he had accepted his childhood theories as truth all those years ago. He doubted his ability to go on, to persevere, and he may have finally even doubted the very crackpot theory that had driven him all his life, that everyone had told him to give up on years ago. So accepting he became of the life he was now sure that was in front of him that Erwin came to believe that he was no longer the king on the chessboard, but rather a pawn. He was a pawn in a sea among many, and he led the others around him on a suicide mission to be slaughtered in the name of humanity, at the hands of the king on the opposing side. It was the worst move anyone could possibly play.
Eren, however, still had hope to hang on to. Despite it waning, it was still there, and it was certainly apparent on that roof when Eren fought for Arlert’s life. Instead of forfeiting the game or throwing it away as Erwin did, Eren analyzed all the pieces around him. Like Erwin, he too was a lowly pawn, but instead of leaving an undefeatable fate in his hands, Eren realized that while there wasn’t anything he may have been able to do, that didn’t mean that the knight at his side was just as expendable.
And shame fell on no one but Levi, who tried to reclaim a pawn that had already been taken when he had a perfectly good one right before him.
Levi sighed, a hand settling right outside the bars of Eren’s cell, his fingers and palm flat against the cold stone floor. “However, Eren… the way the Survey Corps is in its current, pitiful state is also thanks to Erwin. Did you ever not question how it had come down to just the nine of us? That’s because Erwin, your beloved Commander, led the entire remaining Survey Corps to their deaths. They served as scapegoats to distract that damned Beast Titan, knowing full well that it would result in nothing but suicide. Ask yourself – what kind of Commander sacrifices the lives of himself and his men like that? The answer is a terrible one.” Bile rose in Levi’s throat at the memory, of seeing Erwin and the remaining new recruits as they charged ahead of him on horseback to distract the Beast Titan. Levi resented Erwin for not only sacrificing his own life, but also himself for making those sacrifices be left in vein. Levi may not have been an acquired chess piece, but he was the only one left on the board as all the pawns fell around him, the opposing king still standing tall in front of him, undefeated. Not only had Levi failed to defeat the man hidden within the Beast Titan’s shell, but in an act of foolish selfishness he also thought that reclaiming a fallen pawn could bring him to victory. It may have been thanks to Erwin that Levi was fighting on a board alone, but he – and only him – was the only one to blame for not reaching the endgame.
“… you were right, Eren. The serum should have gone to Arlert in the first place.”
“… Corporal?” Out of the corner of his eye, Levi saw Eren turn to him, blinking. “Where did this––”
“I promised it to you to begin with, and when I said that I was under the impression Erwin was long dead. In that moment, there was no choice to make – there never should have been a choice to make. I don’t like admitting my mistakes – I don’t believe in them – but in that moment, I shouldn’t have faltered. I had no right to falter. Not as a man, and not as your superior.” A pause. “… and besides. I had no right to patronize and condemn you for wanting the same thing as I…”
“Corporal…” Levi heard the skirting of Eren’s chains against the stone floor before feeling a soft, fleeting warmth come over his fingers. Levi turned his head to see Eren’s fingers peeking out from in between the cell bars, reaching as far as they possibly could over the length of his hand. “Thank you, Corporal…” Eren breathed. “I’m sorry, I… I’m not sure why… but I felt the need to say it…” A pause. “I know… back then, I wasn’t thinking clearly––”
“Neither was I.”
“W–Well, yes, but…!” Eren let out a breath. “… I understand now. Commander Erwin… you desire to save Commander Erwin was no different than my desire to save Armin…” A pause. “For that… you shouldn’t have to apologize for that…”
Levi didn’t say anything. Instead, he abruptly stood up, removing a key he had hooked onto his belt and unlocked Eren’s cell.
“C–Corporal…!!” Eren had just enough time to catch himself, the heel of his palm pressing into the floor to stop himself from falling onto his back and at Levi’s feet. “What are you––”
“I told you before – neither you nor I – none of us – are allowed to have any regrets.” Levi spoke as he bent down to unlock the shackles around Eren’s wrists and ankles. “Stand up.”
Eren blinked, pausing before tentatively standing up, now turning to face Levi. He still looked like shit – a now look of bewilderment and confusion adding to the lingering depression hiding behind the emerald of his eyes – but at least, he was beginning to look like Eren again. Yes, this was the Eren Jaeger that Levi wanted to see – the one that stood tall and towering before him, not belittled and small and weak at his feet. Finally, he was beginning to one again look like the Eren Jaeger who was so proud to throw on the uniform that symbolized the spirit of the Survey Corps. Unchained. Without abandon. Free. A pioneer who lived by the wings of freedom, who was unafraid to spread his own and fly.
“Now, repeat after me.” Levi exhaled. “I’.”
“‘I’.”
“‘Don’t regret.’”
“‘Don’t re––’… Corporal, do I really need to––?”
“Say it.”
“… ‘Don’t regret’…”
“‘A single one of my actions.’”
“‘A single one of my actions.’”
“‘That I ever have, and that I ever will, commit.’”
‘‘That I…’” Eren lifted his head, his eyes meeting Levi’s gaze, emerald searching for confirmation and strength in steel. “… ‘That I ever have, and that I ever will, commit.’”
“Good.” Levi eyes momentarily darted downward. “… Eren. There’s one more thing I would like you to realize.”
Levi carefully lifted his arms, his left hand moving behind his back as he brought his right hand to his chest, his fingers balling into a fist as a sign of a true salute of a soldier. It was the same salute he had given Erwin. It was the same salute the new recruits had given him. It was a sign of honor, of respect, of dedication, of sacrifice, a plea.
And now, he was offering it to Eren.
“I’m sorry it’s you, Eren. I’m sorry it always has to be you. But right now, humanity can’t do without you. The Survey Corps can’t do without you. I can’t do without. You’re the only one…” Levi’s arms tensed, his fingers curling tighter in his fists. “… You’re the only one who knows just how cruel this world has been, and what it needs to be. You’re the only one who can stop whoever and whatever it is we’re fighting against. You’re the only one… you’re the only one who can guide us.” Levi tilted his chin to meet Eren’s gaze, his chest rising as he stood as erect and as tall as he possibly could on the balls of his feet, trying to get as close to Eren’s level as possible. “Can I trust in you… no, can I depend on you for that? I ask you this not as your corporal, but as your comrade.”
Eren was silent for a moment, his arms still as stiff and heavy at his sides as if Levi hadn’t removed his shackles. Slowly, a soft smile spread across Eren’s face. He shifted his arms to offer Levi the same salute he was giving him, looking down at Levi with eyes filled with, for the first time in ages, hope.
“Yes, sir.”