It's Okay, (Really)

But, he thinks, eyes tightly pressed shut, face cold, it's not. It's not okay. Not even close.

Levi is just standing there, stiff and motionless, when suddenly, she's there.

She grips his shoulder and pulls him against her. He wants to protest, but his throat is tight, full of emotion he doesn't want. So he lets her, and he stares ahead, eyes seeing nothing.

"It's okay." She says it softly. But he doesn't replay—he can't replay. Maybe, if he opens his mouth, it will all come out. Grief, pain, anger, sadness and who knows what else. He's afraid that if he does even more than moving an inch, it'll come rushing out. And he doesn't want that. There is no way in hell he'll let that happen.

"It's alright." She says it again like it's nothing. Like everything is okay.

He wants to ask, 'really?' Or maybe crack a shitty joke. But that would be silly, right? Yeah...

Because nothing is alright. Not even fucking close. Nothing is okay.

And he isn't sure if it will be ever again.

She clasps his shoulder even tighter and draws him closer. Like she wants to squeeze the sadness out of him. But she sure as hell doesn't need to do that. Fuck no. Because he feels seconds away from crumbling down completely—it'll all come down, crashing to the ground with a velocity he isn't sure he'll survive.

Ridiculous.

Maybe if he vomits, he would feel better. Perhaps then the pressure inside of him would subside.

Perhaps, then maybe, he could finally breathe again.

But he can't even do that.

So maybe he should just bash his own head in. Knock himself out. Perhaps that's the better option.

Pitiful.

"It's okay, really."

Really? She says it once more. And it's so stupid because nothing is okay.

It's ridiculous.

It's so absurd that his eyes are hot. Perhaps from the laughter, he can't remember. When was even the last time he really smiled?

Ha.

Then it all explodes—he collapses. It all comes hurtling down, at terrifying speed.

And maybe, he thinks hazily—while his body betrays him, leaving him behind with no control—perhaps he'll shatter when he hits the ground, splinter into a million pieces—like the pieces, they had to leave behind so many times.

But he doesn't.

His heart continues to beat, and his lungs continue to expand.

Because she's there, holding him up, holding him close. Catching him in his fall.

"It's okay," Hange whispers, voice hoarse.

It's alright.

More angst...

I actually need more fluff than angst after chapter 115... but oh well...

All the mistakes are mine.