Chapter Text
It’s easier to go back to Erwin’s room after that first time. It’s like a pull, a tether, a hook that Erwin left in Levi’s skin when he grabbed his wrist.
Levi wastes no time the following morning, glad, for once, of the scheduled day off.
He breaks into his own stash in his quarters to bring Erwin the quality tea as he’d promised. He knows Erwin has reserves in his office, too—Levi’s dug into them enough he knows exactly where—but he refuses to go in there again. Even if he wanted to, he no longer has the keys.
Erwin’s just finishing up his breakfast when Levi arrives. There is no awkward entry this time, no overly emotional, loaded glares. Erwin simply smiles at Levi around a bite of bread and nods for him to enter when he knocks lightly on the already open door.
“How is everyone?” Erwin asks a few minutes into the silent visit, after Levi has poured them both a cup of the tea he brought.
Levi’s sitting in the chair next to the bed this morning. The sunlight gleaming through the windows makes the scene less intimate, somehow, than the dark room of the night before. The brightness makes it easier for Levi to function; it feels less like a dream. Still, the question shocks Levi a bit, but he doesn’t let on. He thinks Erwin shouldn’t be the one asking about them. He knows he should be the one asking about Erwin, and he clenches his jaw when he realizes he has never bothered to check on him—last night or this morning. Sighing, Levi decides now wouldn’t be the time either. Not when Erwin had beat him to the punch.
He takes another sip of his tea before answering. “You asking how we managed to survive without you?”
A mix of exasperation and sympathy flashes across Erwin’s face. “Levi, you know I’m not.” Erwin pauses; Levi lets him. He can tell he’s got more to say. Erwin places his tea cup down on the side table and turns to face Levi a little more. It’s the most Levi’s seen Erwin move, and it’s not lost on him the amount of effort it takes him to do so. “You lost more than me that day. Moblit, Hoover, the whole Corps. I mean it, Levi. How is everyone?”
Levi schools his features. Erwin’s question hits him harder than he’d care to admit. He knows the answer. He knows, too, how that’s going to affect Erwin. He hadn’t asked how he’s feeling, but he knows all too well.
Erwin had led the charge himself, after all.
It never used to be a problem to act casual around Erwin. He’d never had to think twice about his next move. But Levi clears his throat and avoids Erwin’s eyes and looks around the room. The light of day affords him a better look, too, at the corners of the room, containing makeshift tables and shelves holding vases of flowers in all stages of decay, small boxes and cards. “You know how everyone is,” Levi says. “Didn’t they all come bearing gifts?”
The shadows on the side of Erwin’s face change just slightly when his jaw tightens. The full cheeks Levi had dreamed of cupping in his hands no longer exist. Instead, the sun highlights the sharp pull of the skin across his sunken cheeks, and Levi suddenly feels the daylight might not be so forgiving after all.
“Of course I’ve seen everyone, Levi. But you know as well as I do that they're all putting on a show for me.” Erwin sighs. “Can’t worry the crippled old man.”
“You’re not—”
“Levi, please.” Erwin’s eyes aren’t blown like they were last night when he looks at Levi, though he’s being just as bare and open. Levi wonders if he’s been given his pain medicine yet this morning, if he’s in pain simply sitting here in the bed. “I’d like to know,” he says.
I trust you, he doesn’t say. Levi knows that’s what he means, even though he shouldn’t.
Levi swallows and his throat is dry, even though the taste of tea is still hot on his tongue. He thinks back to the last few weeks, those thirty-three days without Erwin. How hopeless they were—-how hopeless he was. Levi shakes his head at the thought, and redirects his mind to the cadets, the volunteers, the Corps. The last thing he wants to do is relive those days. It felt like a punishment, but Levi would bear it like a penance.
Defeated, Levi huffs. “How much time do you have?”
Erwin gestures vaguely to the bed, to his covered legs, smiling through it, somehow. Levi can’t return it, not when he thinks about the damage beneath the blankets that he still hasn’t seen for himself.
“We’ve—” Levi clears his throat, thinking of the implication of the phrase. “We’ve been better.”
When Erwin looks at him inquisitively, with sadness pulling at the corners of his lips, Levi knows he’s going to tell him.
Just not everything.
With a weak voice, Levi starts with their arrival, how painfully hushed it was. He doesn’t tell him about barely making it back to his quarters, about staying up all night for days on end. He skips the part about the brats spreading rumors about the two of them, and moves on quickly to hide the fact that he’s realizing now that they may have known something he didn’t at the time.
All the while, he tries to avoid looking at Erwin’s face, the furrow in his brow, the pain in his eyes, the shadows in the valleys of his cheeks where exposure ate away at him. Levi doesn’t want to make the man relive his own absence—Erwin had lived through enough while he was gone—but he had asked.
Levi details the medal ceremony in a way that sounds more like a complaint than a retelling; it’s easier that way. When he relays that Eren almost caused a scene in the capital, he gets a look from Erwin that makes him think they’ll be discussing the event later. Levi doesn’t hesitate to gloss over the conversation he and Mikasa shared on the ride back. Armin’s titan is oddly difficult for Levi to bring up, and it seems just as difficult for Erwin to hear if the sympathetic look on his face says anything. Still, Levi can tell he’s trying to hide the excitement of the Corps’ meager progress from his countenance. He hopes it’s an indication that Hange has refrained from telling Erwin about Levi’s incident with the shifter.
The thought of giving away any more information about himself puts a lump in his throat. He decides it’s enough.
“That’s mostly everything,” Levi says after regaining his voice with a sip of tea. “Did I spoil your breakfast yet?”
Erwin just thanks him with a smile. “And how are you, Levi?”
The flashback in Levi’s mind is immediate, as if just thinking about this simple question is enough to unearth the memories that are only buried under a thin layer of dust. It’s painful, really, to think about how he handled Erwin’s loss while he’s sitting in front of the man. It hurts to think about the things he put himself through when Erwin was going through worse. Drinking himself to half-drunkenness to no avail alone on the rooftop. Bringing himself to tears in Erwin’s own bed. Nearly killing himself with a lapse in judgment and only pulling himself out of it at the thought of Erwin’s eyes, the same ones that are staring intently at him now.
And then there’s that tug in his gut—that feeling he’s still getting used to—when he sees Erwin, when he even thinks about him.
“I was managing until I had to deal with Nile and his incompetent volunteers. Training was never part of my job description, and you know it.”
Erwin looks amused, and Levi can’t be sure if he’s bought into the deflection or if he’s being kind enough to act like it.
“You’re the reason I got stuck with those MP brats, right?”
“I’m sure you managed just fine.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Behind his teacup, Erwin smiles, and his silence is answer enough.
Levi can’t understand why he did any of it. He can’t understand why he’s treating him so well now either. Erwin smiles a bit too long. He laughs easily. Perhaps he had received his pain medicine right before Levi arrived and now it’s finally kicking in. It’s the only reason Levi can land on to determine why Erwin is treating him this well. He knows Hange briefed Erwin on the important aspects of the expedition, even if they had left out all the parts about life after they returned. At the very least, though, Levi knows Erwin is aware that the Beast Titan is alive somewhere out there, waiting for an opportune moment to come back and finish the job.
He knows Erwin is aware he’d failed.
Still, when Levi stands to leave a short while later, Erwin appears genuinely disappointed.
He returns with dinner that night, and thus starts a pattern, indulging Erwin’s innocent desire for company with his own selfish one. He brings Erwin breakfast in the mornings and watches and waits while he eats before he leaves for the day and tries not to think about him, then picks up his dinner from the mess and brings it to him in the evenings.
All the while, Erwin’s demeanor is unshakably kind, smiling and joking and looking like he’s genuinely happy to see Levi when he walks in.
Levi would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t enjoying it. It makes his heart feel light when Erwin smiles. Seeing him is often the highlight of his day, even if it makes his nights harder to get through without dreaming of the man, of his soft hair and softer eyes.
But it doesn’t feel right. None of it feels right. He shouldn’t get to enjoy Erwin’s company so easily, make him laugh, make him smile. He’d broken a promise. Erwin had every right to hate him.
His best opportunity to catch Erwin off guard is at lunch, Levi believes. It’s not part of their schedule, and Levi is nothing if not regimented. Erwin’s defenses should be lowered, lips loose and perhaps willing to complain to a lended ear.
The only person in the room besides Erwin is the nurse. She’s pulling the bed sheet up to Erwin’s waist, and on the table next to the bed is a tray of pink-tinged gauze. When she moves towards the table, Erwin’s face comes into view. It isn’t necessarily pained, but the look is somber, maybe a bit dejected. It doesn’t exactly make Levi feel any better about the progress he’s making with his injuries. Levi stares at the shapes beneath the thin covers, looking for any indication about what is hidden beneath them, and when he looks back up, Erwin’s face is alight and his eyes are on Levi. Usually he can tell if Erwin’s bullshitting him from a mile away, but the look still doesn’t sit right with him.
He slips back out the door quickly, before the nurse can see him too.
A few minutes later, she smiles at Levi on her way out of the room. The look feels loaded, her bright red lips curling into a smirk, as if she knows something. Levi’s sure she’s heard an earful from Erwin about him, or perhaps they’ve developed a flirtation of sorts and Levi’s presence was only spoiling the mood. He tamps down the jealousy that flares in his chest, reminding himself, again, that he doesn’t deserve Erwin anyway.
Erwin greets him genially when he finally steps back into the room, like nothing is wrong. “Sorry you had to wait. I wasn’t expecting you.”
His head spins. Levi’s the one with the belated apology hanging over them.
“Why the fuck are you apologizing?” Levi snaps.
The happiness drains from Erwin’s face, almost hesitantly so. “I know your time is valuable these days, Levi. Is there something you needed?”
“Actually, yeah, there is.” Levi walks up to the bed, letting his eyes wander to the side table as he talks. “I need you to answer a question for me.”
Erwin doesn’t speak. He’s giving Levi the floor, and Levi almost hates him for it.
“Why are you being so goddamn nice to me?”
He looks up at Erwin after a quiet beat. He looks sad, almost, like he isn’t sure what’s wrong. His blue eyes are deep—-too deep—-under the pinch of his brows. Levi can’t stand that he’s the cause of even more discomfort for him, but it’s Erwin’s own fault he even has to ask.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Levi scoffs. He can’t contain it. “Don’t play coy with me. You probably can’t stand the sight of me, so why do you keep letting me in?”
“Levi.” Erwin sighs. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“How do you not hate me?” Levi retorts. “I’m sure it’s not a secret at this point—I failed!” Pointing stiffly at his chest, he takes a shaky breath and lets the truth of his downfall hang in the air for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Levi can see Erwin’s hand flex and open, then retreat and curl into a fist in the sheets. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter. It drips with shame. “I let the Beast Titan get away. I made you a promise and didn’t make good on it.”
He can’t stand the way Erwin’s looking at him, like he pities him.
Levi advances towards the bed, points at him, crowds into his space. Erwin doesn’t budge. “You held up your end of the bargain, but I couldn’t. You died, Erwin, and I couldn’t do the one damn thing I told you I’d do.”
Erwin’s got freckles, a few discolored splotches on his nose, his forehead. From exposure. Levi’s close enough to see it now. And Erwin just stares back.
“I didn’t die.”
Levi thinks back on how difficult it was to convince himself of this same thing. He’d carried Erwin’s own death notice like a totem, just so he could confirm it. It’s why he’s allowed himself to feel anything—everything—in the first place.
“Didn’t you?”
“Levi…” Erwin reaches out and this time Levi’s close enough for Erwin to touch him. His knuckles graze Levi’s hand where it’s balled up in a fist near the edge of the bed. “I’m so sorry.”
Levi closes his fist tighter. He bites his tongue. He should pull away. He should tell Erwin that he’s sick of his apologies. Instead, he simmers silently.
“Is that why you’re being so distant?” Erwin whispers into the lull.
Levi hates how straightward Erwin is. Especially when he knows how much he’s keeping back himself. There are a multitude of reasons for Levi’s behavior; this is only one of them. But it’s an easy out.
So he takes it.
“Yeah.” He nods and pulls his hand back and crosses them both across his chest, away from Erwin’s reach. “Didn’t think you’d want to see my face.”
“I could never hate you, Levi. There were a lot of things beyond our control out there.” Erwin rubs at his thigh, almost absentmindedly. “You did your best. And there’s still time… to do what we said we’d do.”
Levi’s eyes dart to Erwin’s face; he stops short of shaking the frail man by the collar, hands still tucked tightly beneath his arms. “Don’t you dare.”
Erwin has the audacity to smile. Levi bites the inside of his cheek.
“Speaking of which,” Erwin says.
“Of dying?”
“No, Levi,” he says around a soft laugh. “I thought you would be the one mad at me, actually.”
He cannot imagine a scenario in which he would be mad at Erwin, especially now. “That’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not. You threatened me to stay behind, Levi, and I didn’t listen to you.” Erwin’s got that far off stare now, the one that lights his eyes up strangely and makes Levi wonder where he’s gone. “Looks like I got one of my legs broken anyway,” he says eventually.
The words don’t seem to want to form in Levi’s brain or his throat. The night before the expedition seems like a lifetime ago. The fact that Erwin’s still mulling over it after all he’s been through pulls something in Levi’s chest. He clears his throat around a lump. “What?”
“Your threat. All this time I thought you’d be mad at me for not listening to you.”
“You’re my commanding officer. You don’t have to listen to anything I say.”
Erwin looks at him now, ignoring the statement like it’s an untruth. “I still have another one for you to break,” he says, almost sweetly, as if he’s offering Levi a gift, a favor, “if you want to exact your revenge.”
Levi shakes his head. He hadn’t even thought of that. “I think you’ve suffered enough,” he says, even though he knows he’s keeping things from Erwin, even now, as the words cross his lips, that might make him suffer more later.
There’s still something off with Erwin. Maybe he isn’t mad at Levi, if he’s to be believed. But there’s something in the way he’s looking at Levi that still feels different than before. Something loaded in the way he smiles, with just a touch too much tightness in his eyes.
Behind Levi, the door creaks.
“Lunchtime, Commander.”
While Erwin speaks to the aide, Levi sneaks out and ignores the way Erwin’s hand reaches out for him as he turns to go.
____________________
Levi slips back into the kitchen while everyone else is finishing dinner, as has become routine. No one even asks where he’s going anymore.
He’d taken over the duty of preparing Erwin’s dinner. Whoever was handling it before hadn’t asked Erwin what he wanted, but Levi knows what he likes, and it’s not as if the choices are endless, but he does what he can. Erwin likes a second piece of bread; Levi doesn’t eat his, and Erwin could use the extra. He likes his tea with way too much sugar; Levi knows where they keep the reserves so he doesn’t have to use honey. He likes his food a touch short of boiling; Levi makes sure to reheat everything before he plates it.
Hange makes an appearance just as Levi removes the pot from the fire. They drone on about some meeting or another. Perhaps Levi should listen, but he’s got things to do.
“Stew… bread…” he whispers under his breath, turning hurriedly away from the tray and past Hange to gather his supplies.
“Oh! Did you know Shadis was coming to visit?”
“Sure didn’t,” Levi says, pushing past them again through the skinny aisle of the kitchen, biting his tongue. “Stew, bread, tea,” he repeats, placing the kettle on the tray.
“It’ll be nice to…”
Levi tunes Hange out again, running through the list again. Stew, bread, tea. Stew, bread, tea. He’s missing something, he knows. He just can’t—
“—Erwin?”
Levi snaps his head in Hange’s direction, task forgotten. “What?”
“I said, how is Erwin?” Hange walks closer. “You aren’t ignoring him again, are you?”
Levi hates thinking about that time, the time he thought it would be better to ignore Erwin than to face him. He hates being reminded of it even more, of being reminded that someone else remembers that time too. It would be one thing if he was just idiotic, but he was an idiot out in the open for Hange to see, and that makes it a little more real.
He scoffs, grabbing a napkin and utensils out of the drawer before he forgets, hoping his silence isn’t mistaken for guilt. “No, I’m not, actually. Thanks for asking,” he says, and then to himself, “Stew, bread, tea, napkin, silverware. Fuck, what else…”
“Just checking,” Hange pipes up, a little too casually. “He seems better, now. That’s all.”
Better seems like a relative term—Erwin still looks like shit to Levi—but maybe Hange has a more accurate stick with which to measure Erwin’s progress.
“Better,” he scoffs. “I’d hope he’s better in here than out there. We’d be doing a shit job if he wasn’t.” He’s rambling, he knows. “Let’s throw you outside the walls, Four-eyes. See how you handle it. I think I’d fall off a bit mentally if I lived out in the wilderness for a month, too.”
Just saying that out loud sends a tightness through Levi’s heart. He still doesn’t know what happened to Erwin out there. Hasn’t dared to ask and hasn’t heard anyone else talking about it. Maybe they don’t want to make Erwin live through it again and have put aside their morbid curiosities now that he’s alert. Or maybe they all feel better about themselves when they just ignore the events that transpired while they were back home, safe, unbothered except for the guilt of being one of the few survivors.
“Maybe,” Hange says, and the sing-song tone seems to pierce Levi’s ears. “I think it’s more than that, though. He seems a lot more attentive.”
Levi throws Hange a pinched sort of look. “Attentive to what?” he asks, setting the tray on the counter to give it one more check.
“Debriefings.”
“Couldn’t help yourself, huh?”
“Come on, Levi. You know Erwin. It was his decision. He asked. He doesn’t want to feel left out any longer. He’s missed enough.”
Levi sighs, fussing with the kettle on the tray and straightening it just so. He finds it hard to argue with that point, concedes with a tilt of his head and a casual shrug of his shoulders.
Stew, bread, tea, utensils. Hange’s got him all out of sorts now. This was never a problem when he was left alone.
“Sugar. Fuck.”
Levi turns quickly to push past Hange and back into the kitchen.
“You’re good for him.”
Boots squeal against the slick stone when Levi stops short of the cupboard. He turns to face Hange, the loop of the list cleared from his mind in an instant. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
An overexaggerated shrug is Hange’s only reply before they walk away, out of the kitchen.
“Oi,” Levi calls after them. Hange’s already halfway through the mess when Levi reaches the threshold. He won’t chase them. “What do you mean I’m good for him?”
Hange laughs, a quick, sharp sound. “Ask him yourself!”
“No, I’m asking you.”
Hange’s voice bounces and sings through the stone halls, out of sight. “Goodnight, Levi!”
____________________
The air is a little thinner now, in Erwin’s room, some of the tension reduced after Erwin forgave Levi for something he still doesn’t forgive himself for.
Still, he has to be careful now. He doesn’t want to look at Erwin the wrong way. He can’t stare too long or have a smile creep on his face while they’re talking. He’d told Erwin enough. Knowing his guilty feelings was one thing. Those other feelings—the ones simmering below the surface during the day or threatening to boil up in his chest at night—need to stay drowned.
He places the tray directly onto Erwin’s lap now. He’s learned how to set it up over the last few weeks, learned what Erwin needs help with and what he’s able to do on his own. Levi pours them both tea now, knowing that pretending he won’t be there long enough for a cup, or two, is foolish.
It’s mostly silent while Erwin eats his meal. Levi doesn’t mind this companionable quiet; it feels more like before. Still, he makes sure he has something to do now while Erwin’s occupied, something to keep the fidgeting at bay and the attention off himself. The tea cup keeps his hands and mouth busy and allows him to hide his expressions behind its brim. Levi has also mastered the art of sneaking glances at Erwin while he’s not looking. He can’t remember how much he’d looked at the man before, can’t tell if he’s just paranoid now knowing the reason behind his wandering gaze.
Erwin dabs his mouth with the napkin and looks up after he sets it down, catching Levi looking. Levi jumps, melding the sudden motion into what he hopes is a casual-looking adjustment of his body in the chair, throwing his elbow over the back and turning the tea cup with his other hand.
If Erwin’s noticed anything amiss, he doesn’t show it. Face unreadable he asks, “How’s the weather?”
Levi grabs the cup, awkward from this new angle, but lifts it to his mouth anyway, cocking a brow at Erwin through the steam. “It’s… fine,” he says, just before a sip.
“Cooling off, is it?”
Levi sighs. He understands, now, as he watches Erwin look away from Levi, from his dinner, and out the window. The man isn’t used to being cooped up indoors for more than a few hours at a time. Though Levi thinks if he had been living exposed to the wilderness for as long as Erwin had, he’d have enough of the outdoors for a while. Still, Erwin is a man of action, and now things are being done for him, around him. Maybe Hange was right about the debriefings.
“Yeah, a bit,” Levi answers. “Gear’s starting to act up already.”
“About that time of year.”
Levi hums. “Yeah.”
Erwin seems content with the quiet that follows the sorry excuse for a conversation, turning back to the meal in front of him, but it gets under Levi’s skin. Neither of them had been very talkative with each other before, Erwin always busy with his work and Levi always helping quietly beside him, a silent but grounding presence. Levi could tell he liked his silence, too, after barking orders and bullshitting his way through meetings. But there isn’t much business to discuss, nothing to occupy Erwin’s time now except Levi’s company and the occasional nurse that Levi tries too hard not to think about. He supposes, though, they can talk about anything; Erwin might welcome the distraction.
“Do you—”
“Levi, if—”
Both men hesitate for a moment, mouths gaping on aborted syllables.
“Go ahead,” Levi says first.
Erwin clears his throat, takes a bite of his food, then moves some things around on his plate with his fork while he chews. Levi lets him have the floor for as long as it takes.
“If you want to know what happened,” he begins, “out there.” He’s got his full attention on Levi now, eyes focused and serious. “I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t want to ruin your dinner,” Levi says, surprising even himself with the quickness of the response, and how believable it is. It’s not untrue, but, he thinks, a stern “no” would have been sufficient. “Maybe later.”
Maybe never, he thinks.
“Maybe later.” Erwin smiles, understanding. “What were you going to ask?”
“Oh.” Levi hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Do you know any of those MPs you stuck me with?” Levi feels silly asking such an inconsequential question when all he wanted to do was break the silence. But after what Erwin said, maybe he misunderstood the types of conversations they could have now.
“Eli’s an old friend,” Erwin answers easily, almost gladly. He doesn’t seem put off. “I didn’t ask him to come, though, if that’s what you’re wondering. Any of them, really.”
“Bullshit.”
“Truly,” Erwin replies quickly through a bite of food, as if Levi wouldn’t believe him if he’d waited any longer to assure him. “I only spoke with Nile about it, briefly. The execution was really up to him. I wasn’t sure how many there would be.”
“Yeah, well, we’re lucky people like you.”
“I imagine they would have helped anyway.”
Levi scoffs, placing his tea cup down with perhaps a little more effort than he intends. The clang of the ceramic punctuates his disbelief. “Helped us? Me and Four-eyes? Yeah right.”
“People like you too, Levi.”
Levi outright laughs this time. “Yeah. Who?”
Erwin smiles, shakes his head, and puts his fork down.
“You done?” Levi walks over to the bed before Erwin can continue down whatever line of thought he was beginning to go down. He nods, so Levi removes the tray quickly and starts towards the door.
“You can stay.” At the sound of Erwin’s voice, Levi pauses near the door and turns around. “You can stay a little longer if you’d like. Therese won’t be back tonight. We changed my bandages at lunch. We’re down to once a day, since it’s healing a bit.”
Levi’s a bit miffed Erwin is apparently on a first name basis with the nurse, and he suddenly and bitterly remembers the woman he ran into at lunchtime. The mention of Erwin’s injury tugs his emotions swifty in another direction, however. Helping the bed-ridden man is one thing. Remembering exactly why he has to take him his meals is something he’s grown adept at repressing.
“Only if you’d like,” Erwin says when Levi takes too long to answer.
“Whatever.” Levi places the tray down on the table near the door. “Ain’t like I have anything else to do.”
The awkward silence that follows rolls off Erwin like rain on a cloak, and he smiles—for what seems like one time too many since Levi’s arrived—and picks up a book from his side table. Levi takes that as a cue to settle in. He finds a day-old newspaper on the small desk in the corner and takes it to the chair next to Erwin’s bed and refills their teacups before sitting down.
The silence isn’t really silence this time, not like it was earlier. It’s more familiar; it reminds Levi of before, when they were working. Levi’s content to zone out, not really reading, listening to the shush of the pages turning in Erwin’s book and his deep, even breathing.
Levi thinks Erwin’s got a little more fullness in his face since he first returned. Maybe it’s the extra bread Levi’s been slipping in with his dinner. Or maybe it’s just the softer lighting of the evening and wishful thinking. His cheekbones still appear so sharp under his soft eyes. It’s such a stark contrast to the Erwin that Levi had dreamt about, the one seared into his memory while he was gone. That Erwin had been warm and radiant, more alive than Levi thought he’d ever be again. The Erwin sitting in front of him now feels cold and weak, like death still has some sort of hold on him.
He’s not sure he prefers this version to the Erwin of his memories, but he’ll take flesh and blood over ghosts whispering to him in the dark any day.
The evening drags on and the lamplight dims as it gets to the end of the oil, but Erwin keeps on reading. The shadow of the newspaper in front of him isn’t helping Levi’s eyes so he puts it down and just gets comfortable, happy to sit in the peacefulness.
A wave of familiarity washes over him. Erwin, studious though perhaps not as stressed as he usually is. Levi, resting uncomfortably in a nearby chair. It almost feels normal. It almost feels as if everything is righting itself again. He lets it lull him, the safety of it, the warmth. He doesn’t fight the pull of his eyelids or the fall of his head towards his chest. He’s content to be pulled under, comfortable and safe.
His unconscious, however, is hostile, and it seems as soon as he’s under, he hears the cries, the yells. It had been so long since he’d had any unsavory dreams, but he’s not surprised, as he stirs, that they’ve come back.
When he wakes fully, though, the screams don’t stop. They aren’t in his head.
The room is in near darkness now, but it isn’t hard to make out Erwin writhing on the bed. Levi doesn’t need to see him though. His screams are loud enough.
Levi says Erwin’s name but even he can’t hear his own voice over the other man’s yelling. He’s pleading, really, and it sends a shiver down Levi’s spine to wonder what he’s begging for.
Erwin pauses for a moment to catch his breath, the sound a raspy thing coming from his throat.
“Erwin,” Levi says, his own voice breaking through the reprieve, sounding like a whisper after the unsettling volume of Erwin’s yells.
The quiet settles for a moment, but Erwin doesn’t respond. His eyes are still closed. A beat passes before a furrow mars his brow and he squints them shut even harder. He doesn’t speak. He only screams again.
The sound is like flipping a switch. Levi jolts into action, then, swinging open the door and running into the hallway. He has no idea what he’s looking for, but he knows he cannot handle this himself.
He’s afraid to knock on the doors to wake people up, but he doesn’t know what else to do. Erwin’s screams echo down the hallway and they remind him of his dreams in the way that it sounds far off, underwater. If he waits long enough, he knows, the cries may wake everyone up anyway.
This is more urgent than that.
He tries frantically to remember the name of the nurse, but he can’t recall it, doesn’t even know if she’ll still be here this late anyway.
The rap of his knuckles on the doors punctuates the otherworldly quiet of the hallway, as if he’s sinking, drowning. He feels like he’s drowning, desperate for air, growing further and further away as he runs desperately down the hall, stopping every few steps to knock on doors, two at a time when he’s able.
A door finally opens near the end of the hall, and the nurse pops her head out to catch Levi knocking on the door a few feet away.
“It’s Erwin,” Levi says thickly before she can ask. “He—he’s screaming. He’s in pain, maybe. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”
Without a word she dips back into her room and emerges moments later with a bottle and syringe. The sight of it makes Levi’s blood run cold.
The shock freezes Levi for long enough that the nurse takes the lead down the corridor, and he follows behind her then. She’s walking quickly, but keeping Levi from hitting his full stride. He’d prefer she ran.
“We backed off the dosage of the medication today,” she calls back to him, voice breathy. “But he’s clearly not handling that well.”
Levi can’t find it in him to curse Erwin for a stupid decision. He doesn’t even believe for a moment it wasn’t his call.
It’s not as loud when they get back to Erwin’s door, but Levi can still hear his moaning, labored breaths. He’s not pleading anymore, at least, but when Levi realizes he must have exhausted himself, it doesn’t comfort him in the slightest.
The nurse continues on, and Levi stays behind, rooted to the spot just outside the door until he hears the clink of the glass vial on the bedside table and turns to leave, helpless.