Even though he barely remembered who she was, he would recognize her touch and the sound of her voice.
He remembered her kindness, and how her death had left him in tears as a child with such an emptiness in his heart.
He remembered the fact that she had sheltered him the best she could, and he remembered how she had loved him with all her being.
He hated how much she was hurt in this life, and he hated that he did not get to know her better.
He hated that her life had been cut off so shortly from this world, robbing him of the chance to know this woman who had loved and raised him.
Yet here he was, standing before her as she slept. She was breathing, and she was alive.
She was alive, yet not in the way one would normally think.
He was like a ghost in the halls of this dirtied building, doomed to go to sleep and wake up in a different time, almost in a different world where he went uninterrupted in his observations.
Maybe she was the one who was alive, and he had been reduced to nothing but a ghost, dead to the world and doomed to watch and keep her company.
It was not that he did not want to keep her company and witness her living. He just did not want to witness her death all over again, but this time, as a fully grown man who understood what was happening.
He was hesitant to reach out to her, not wanting to reopen a wound that he had thought had healed so long ago.
"Why?" he had demanded as she slept, his voice shaking. "Why am I tormented?" He looked upwards in frustration, not knowing what to do. His hands shook and he curled them into fists.
He relaxed, letting out a bitter sigh. He opened his eyes and stared at her before turning his back to her once more.
Tomorrow. He would attempt to reach out to her tomorrow.
If he had the same dream.
Tomorrow came, and had the same dream, but he did not reach out to her yet. He was doomed to remain a ghost every time he slept. He would remain in the same room with her, not wanting to take that next step and wake her.
Besides, she looked so weary when she slept. She was beautiful, but she was also worn down, doomed to remain in this underground prison forever, never to see the warm sun or the glowing moon.
His eyes narrowed at that thought, and he was moving forward, arm outstretched to gently shake her awake.
He was surprised that his hand connected with her shoulder, and her eyes flashed open at his touch. She stared up at him with no expression, his own face void of emotion. "Follow me," he whispered.
She had followed him without question, much like a ghost herself. They left the buildings like phantoms on the streets. They passed by the patrols, and it was only then did she hesitate.
He had looked back with understanding, reaching out and taking her hand in his. She looked up at him with a faint smile, which he returned. Gently, he tugged on her hand and led the way.
The walk may have taken hours, or mere seconds. They may have been walking for years for all he knew. Time ceased to exist for the both of them.
When he had successfully arrived at their destination, he looked in her direction as she beheld the surface for the first time. Her face was one of awe as she took in the open, starry skies and the full, glowing moon.
"It's so big," she murmured.
He nodded, looking back upwards at the sky. "Aye," he said. "It is. Moreso then you could ever know."
"You are a soldier here," she had said with understanding, staring at his uniform where the Survey Corps crest was.
He swallowed, eyes still fixed on the starry skies. "Yes."
"Why do you visit me?" she said softly, and he could feel her gaze on him.
He looked at her with a brief flicker of surprise on his face.
She smiled softly. "I know when someone is in my room, watching me. Yet you bore no malice, no ill intent towards me. Not the type of men I am used to." She approached him, her white nightgown almost glowing. She tilted her head. "Very well, I will start with an easier question; what is your name?"
He mirrored her expression. "My name," he said thoughtfully. "Is not important."
"It is to me," she said, staring at him. "It is to me," she repeated. "Because I choose it." She reached out to him, waiting for him to take her hand once more. "Why do you hesitate? Are you afraid?"
He frowned, quickly striding towards her and embracing her frail, thin body. "Never," he said as he hugged her.
"You've grown," she said softly as she held him. "You're almost as tall as me."
He smirked, amusement in his eyes as she pulled back and observed his face, taking in every little detail of this child who was now a man.
She reached up to touch his face gently, her cold hands suddenly tingling with warmth in that moment. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly as he let her caress his face.
"I know you," she murmured, her voice sounding so distant.
He reached up to grab her hand that was touching him, feeling her slip away from him as unknown forces slowly took this moment away from him. "I know," he said, opening his eyes. "Why are we here? Why now?"
She smiled. "Does it matter? We are here right now in this moment." She tilted her head. "But why are you here?"
He looked at her, so many answers and questions in his eyes. "Because I want to know you," he said softly.
She smiled once more. In that moment, she seemed to change. No longer was she the frail, young woman before him. Instead there was strong, mature lady who was gently running her hands through his hair, pride in her eyes.
"Oh Levi," she said softly. "My son. You do know me."
He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around her.
"My soldier," she murmured. "I am so proud of you."