The wall of fire roared like a beast alive, consuming the hundred-foot trees that fanned across the entrance of the pass. They'd found a way to hold the unending swarm of titans at bay at last—desperate as the measure had been. But with the entire squadron dead apart from the Survey Corps's usual Last Man Standing and—by the oddly fortuitous twist of fate of being too slow and off-balance in his maneuver gear to dodge a series of toppling trees and ending up trapped beneath them—Commander Erwin Smith himself, they had made the call they'd needed to make to ensure the titans stayed off of Eren and Hanji and the rest of the Survey Corps while they clinched humanity's victory once and for all.

"You know, I don't think the smoke's actually coming in here," Levi mused, watching the flames engulfing the entire valley below them.

"It's not the smoke that will get us—it's the oxygen loss," Erwin said, lowering himself painfully against a wall of the small cave in the cliff's face that they'd taken shelter in. Yes, it wouldn't be long before the oxygen in this limited space would be burned up as fuel for the inferno raging outside. But it was a better death than being burned alive out on the forest floor.

Erwin settled himself on the sad, blood-stained pile he had made of his tattered Survey Corps cloak and shifted into as comfortable a position as he could find. One of his legs was battered and bloody from his run-in with the falling trees earlier, but it was the battering his torso had taken in that crash (and the internal bleeding he suspected it had caused) that was causing him the majority of the pain he felt at present. Or at least—it caused the majority of the physicalpain he felt. His own imminent death on the eve of humanity's unilateral victory was little more than he had expected—in fact, insisted upon—in recompense for all the hell he had caused in his lifetime. But Levi's death… Levi who, even after fighting on the front lines of each of the monumental clashes that had filled these final days of the war—was still miraculously unscathed by any major injury…

Knowing that the perfectly able-bodied Levi had faithfully executed Erwin's plan to set the fiery barricade below and then returned here to die alongside him—that hurt him in ways that made the pain of his physical injuries fade to a dull background ache. But at this point, Erwin had known better than to dare suggest that Levi make his escape after setting the fires and allow the immobilized Erwin to pay his long-due penances on his own.

They'd actually had a very similar conversation a few days earlier, when Levi had blatantly endangered his own life by flying through a raging, leaping, blood-crazed herd of aberrant titans to rescue a stranded Erwin—a flagrant endangerment of one of humanity's greatest assets against the titans that Levi would never have permitted himself in the past. When Erwin had tried to admonish him for his recklessness later, Levi had had a surprisingly ready reply for him.

"You flagrantly endangered yourself too, by coming on this operation to retake Wall Maria," he'd said. "If you've judged that humanity's far enough along that it doesn't need you anymore, then it's fair to say it doesn't need me anymore either."

When Erwin had gaped at him, momentarily stunned into silence, Levi had pressed on. "If you're letting yourself indulge your selfish wishes, then I'm going to do the same. And for me, that means risking anything and everything I have to keep you alive. Whether you're useful to humanity or not."

After three days of mulling over his words between the death-defying and ultimately victorious battles against the Beast Titan and his cohorts, Erwin had come to the surprising conclusion that Levi had been right—neither of them was vital to humanity's survival anymore. As close as they were now to victory, and with Eren and Hanji and all the brilliant youngsters already primed to step up and fill their shoes, Erwin and Levi were really and truly "off the hook," so to speak. They could die anytime they wanted.

How amusing that we took our chance so soon, Erwin thought wryly as he watched Levi unbuckle his now-empty gas canisters and blade holsters.

"So how long do we have?" Levi asked, coming to join him after leaving his discarded gear in a forlorn pile by the cave's mouth.

"I'm not sure," Erwin said. "Judging by the size of the cave and the strength of the fire, I'd guess a few hours. Half a day at most, but long before this fire would be even close to burning itself out."

"Oh. Okay then," Levi said with a slight shrug as he lowered himself to sit next to Erwin's uninjured left side.

"So, what shall we do between now and then?" Erwin asked, keeping his tone light—playful, almost. It had been a while since he'd felt remotely so cheerful, and for all his regrets in regard to Levi, his soul really did feel jubilant in a way. He'd accomplished his impossible goal at long last and against all odds, after all. Humanity had a future, and he had righted the greatest wrong of his life. His father could rest in peace at last.

Perhaps this lightness I feel is peace? Erwin thought. He turned to look fondly at Levi, only to find his lover watching him with his head cocked slightly to one side, his bland expression unreadable as always.

"How are your injuries?" Levi asked. "Want me to bind your leg?"

Erwin shook his head. "No need to bother now. They don't hurt much if I keep myself still anyhow."

Levi shrugged, arms crossed over his chest. "Suit yourself, then," he said, then leaned his head a bit tentatively against Erwin's shoulder. The slight shyness of the gesture warmed Erwin's heart. He gave his long-time lover a fond smile and wrapped his arm firmly around Levi's waist, pulling him flush against him. Levi molded instantly to his side, tucking his head comfortably beneath Erwin's chin.

"We really did it, huh?" Erwin murmured.

"Yeah," Levi agreed.

Erwin considered continuing in this vein—letting the lethargy of relief and exhaustion carry them off on a sentimental voyage of ponderings about what their surviving friends and subordinates would do in the new world. But after a moment, as his hand silently traced over the familiar, rock-hard lines of Levi's shoulder, the quiet mourning in his heart demanded he try at least one more time.

"Levi," he said, "I know you're out of gas, but I think one of my canisters wasn't damaged too badly in the crash. If you check it, you might be able to—"

"Give it up, Erwin," Levi said shortly. "I'm not going anywhere."

Erwin sighed, letting the bitterness seep into it and then wash out of him. "All right, Levi," he said at last, resigned. He raised his hand up to brush through the still amazingly silky-feeling strands of Levi's thick, ash-and-dirt-matted hair. "I just wish I could've let you taste a bit of real freedom out there. No titans, no walls…" No me to keep you chained to a hellish fate, he added silently to himself.

He felt Levi shrug against his side.

"Let the brats go and explore," he said simply. "I'm fine."

"Still…" Erwin murmured pressing his cheek into that silky hair. He could still faintly smell Levi's favorite lavender soap beneath the smell of burned wood that clung to them and filled the air thickly. "I wish there were something I could give you, since you won't take your life and freedom." He sighed. "It just seems so unfit a reward for you to die here in this cave after all you've done for humanity."

"If we're going to play that game, I'd say the same goes even more so for you, Erwin," Levi said. Erwin sighed again.

"Which is why there's no point in playing that game," he said, flashing Levi a wry smile. "Let's just agree that whatever it is we think the other deserves, this is the reality that Fate has dealt us, and that's that."

Levi glanced up to catch his eye. "Fair enough."

Erwin nodded and leaned his head against Levi's again, thinking that he could at least sweeten Levi's last moments with some romance when his lover suddenly raised his head.

"Actually," Levi said, sitting up so he could face him, "there is one thing I wanted to ask you for."

"Oh?" Erwin said, surprised. It was amazingly rare to hear Levi ask him for anything. "What is it?"

"Well…" Levi began. He hesitated for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. Raising his head to look Erwin squarely in the eye, he said, "Consider this my last request to you, in repayment for the part I've played in accomplishing your goal…"

Erwin was surprised by the sudden turn but nodded, his blue eyes becoming serious, attentive, as he held Levi's. "Tell me. Whatever I can give you before the end, I will, I swear it. And even after, may the rest be taken from me and given to you, wherever we are."

Levi nodded. "That works. But it's something you can give me right now, right here."

"All right. What is it?"

"Your forgiveness," Levi said, his pale eyes unflinching as he gazed up into Erwin's.

Erwin's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"My forgiveness?" he repeated. "But… there's nothing for me to forgive you for. If anything, I should ask you for—"

"I want you to forgive yourself," Levi cut him off firmly, his stare frank, his jaw set beneath his ever-mild, thin lips. When Erwin's expression of soft confusion changed, and the familiar guardedness and self-loathing crept into it as Levi had expected, Levi continued quickly, "That's my price. That's what you owe me."

Erwin turned away, his blue eyes muted, his lips compressing back down into their usual grim set. Levi could see him weighing his options—play it off as a joke, deride the request as something unnecessarily heavy in this last moment. But in the end, perhaps because of the gravity of this last occasion to speak together, or their long history and the many things both good and bad that they'd given and taken from one another, he seemed to opt, at last, to answer him honestly.

"I'm afraid that isn't something in my power to give," he said, his eyes grave as they met Levi's squarely. "Ever."

But Levi simply nodded. "I figured you'd say that. But do you think those years of hell I put myself through would come at a small price?" He shrugged. "I know what I'm asking is harder for you than all the shit either you or I have ever put ourselves through. But that's still what I'm asking for."

Erwin was shaking his head. "Levi, I understand what you're trying to do. But let's just speak frankly—I don't deserve it. I know it's hard for you to hear, but I don't."

Levi's eyes narrowed slightly, but he continued in his unaffected tone. "You think I care?" he said, shrugging lightly. "What you deserve is irrelevant to me. I'm asking because that's what I want."

"But—"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Levi interjected, "but aren't we talking about my reward? What I want from you?"

Erwin frowned, his eyes grave. After a pause, he said sternly, "It's not fair for you to ask it of me, Levi."

"Why?" Levi said lightly. "Because you know that's the only thing in the world I want and that it would only be right for you to give it to me?"

Erwin grunted softly, turning away with his jaw clenched, his eyes squeezed shut in a grimace as though Levi's words physically pained him. Levi pressed his advantage.

"You're a smart man, Erwin. Objectively, you know what a man who loves like I love you would really want. You know what one thing would give me the happiness that I deserve for what I've done. You know, Erwin."

"But I… I can't give you that," Erwin gasped, the strain apparent in his voice. "I can't give myself that."

"It's what's right, Erwin. You were always so good at telling stories—stories that stirred up the troops, won hearts to your cause. So tell me… how is a story like this supposed to end? Tell me not as yourself, but as the storyteller. As god."

Erwin's head snapped to the side, shooting an agitated glance at Levi over his shoulder.

"Levi, I hate hearing that kind of thing from you—"

"I'm not a religious man, Erwin. You know that," Levi said, his gaze both bland and piercing as ever. "But if I had any religion that I've followed and believed in absolutely through my life, it's been you."

"I can't take that kind of responsibility—"

"—And yet you have. So… whether you want it or not, as my god, I ask you for salvation for the one I love."

"Stop—"

"I ask my god for forgiveness for the one I love," Levi pressed, standing and walking around to face Erwin where he leaned against the wall, turned away from him and half-cringing from the words that fell in a soft, relentless flow from Levi's lips. "Forgive him. Forgive him for all he's done, for all he thinks he should never be forgiven for. For all the bad and the good he has done without pride, without reward, without his own forgiveness. For all the people his actions have saved, now and in the future, I ask you to forgive him and save him. Save the man I love."

By now, Levi had knelt down again squarely in front of Erwin. He reached out and gripped his lover's broad shoulders with hands as gentle and firm as the words he continued to speak. "Even if he thinks he doesn't deserve it, I want him to find peace, to be happy. It may not be fair for me to wish this, but love doesn't play fair. It never has. It doesn't have to." Here, Levi paused and raised one small, thick-fingered hand to brush softly against Erwin's lowered face. He gently lifted his chin until their eyes met.

The haunted, desperately unhappy blue eyes that looked back at him were hesitant, darting with a kind of uncertainty Levi had rarely seen in his Commander's face over the many years he had known him. And yet, there was nothing unexpected there—for all his daring, drive, and remarkable courage in the face of impossible enemies, there were so many cores of hurt and vulnerability in the depths of this magnificent man. The Erwin whose heart bled when he saw the grief of the widows and bereft parents of his slain soldiers. The Erwin who had hated using his unfair advantages in size and strength and social standing to subdue and fetter a struggling Levi—wild and free—all those years ago. The Erwin who missed being unguarded and sincere with his friends as he had been in their school days, and was still deeply hurt every time he saw the cool reservation and suspicion in the eyes of those friends now. And even deeper still—the Erwin who secretly loved walking past sweets shops and looking in at the delicately crafted little cakes in the windows. The Erwin who enjoyed the feel of soft, crisp sheets against his skin, who loved wrapping his arms around the fluffiest pillow and then sleeping curled against it with all the contentedness of a cat lying in the sun. Levi knew them, felt them all—had surmised what he had not been privileged to be shown. And it was here—these deep knots of pain and sorrow surrounding and burying all the many true things that was Erwin—that he would caress and ease away if he could.

So he continued, determined.

"Love doesn't have to play fair," he repeated, staring Erwin squarely in the eyes. "And that's what my love demands—I want the man I love to be free and well, to rest easy at last. I want you to forgive him. Forgive him, Erwin."

Erwin stared at him, shrinking back but unable to tear his eyes from their locked gazes. They were still desperately unhappy—guilt, fear, self-loathing, and vehemence within them—but Levi could see the vulnerability starting to edge into them; the crack in the veneer.

"Forgive him, Erwin," he repeated softly. "Forgive yourself. For me. Please."

And at last, as Levi's words reached whatever tipping point there was inside of Erwin—as the radiating love from his calm, gray eyes seeped down, down into the depths of Erwin's heart where a fine web of cracks had already begun fracturing the diamond-hard walls there—Erwin surrendered at last.

"Levi," he whispered, his face crumbling as one hot tear slipped down his face, followed by another and another until the tears poured down his cheeks unreserved. He began to sob, softly at first, and then harder, finally throwing himself forward to bury his face in Levi's chest and feeling the strong, small arms wrap instantly around him. He hadn't doubted for an instant that the strength of that small, indomitable body could take the force of his impact, the force of his grief and all the awful, painful things suppressed inside of him that poured forth at last. He sobbed openly, unashamedly, with the kind of abandon he had never allowed himself before, seeking and receiving another's strength to ease a pain that was purely personal for the first time in his life.

"Levi… Levi…" he whispered over and over, his voice thick and choked with sobs. Levi held him through the torrent of emotions, taking it all gladly. When at length, the tide of Erwin's sorrow finally ebbed, Levi held him close, like something precious and small, something to be cherished and safeguarded. In the rawness of his catharsis, Erwin felt it all with remarkable clarity, and found himself nearly undone again. Could such tenderness really, truly be meant for him? All this love—all this gentleness. However much he thought he'd understood Levi's regard and (he acknowledged) immense love for him, it truly paled in comparison to what had actually been there.

Could it be? Erwin thought. Could someone as worthwhile as Levi cherish me so much?

It was hard for him to comprehend. To think that Levi cared about him… That even in his most debased or useless state, he mattered to Levi—mattered more than life and honor and duty and victory and the continued survival of the human race; more than justice and what was fair and what he truly deserved—it didn't matter. Levi wished him well beyond what he deserved.

So this is love, Erwin thought. The gratitude and love that filled him in that moment as he gazed into Levi's eyes and at the warm, welcoming soul that lived there was such that he felt it had etched his soul forever—had cemented itself for all time henceforth as the driving motivation behind the force that was Erwin Smith, had left an indelible mark in all the layers and lines of fate that stretched the length and breadth of existence.

"Once and forever," he said, stroking Levi's cheek as their eyes held one another's in an unbreakable lock. "This one love, Levi… it will never end. Beyond my last breath, beyond the end of my life, this love I feel for you will echo throughout the heavens forever. "

A part of Erwin's mind registered that his words had sounded terribly cheesy after he'd spoken them out loud, but in the immensity of the things filling his heart in that moment, he knew he meant every one of them.

Amazingly, Levi seemed to understand. Rather than chide him, he cracked a rare, genuine smile and simply said, "Same." The soft, open lines of Levi's face spoke the sentiment as eloquently as Erwin's words had. There was such peace, such gladness in those eyes. Unexpressive as they were, the emotions radiated plainly from them. They were the warmest that Erwin had ever seen them—or perhaps, it was just he had never seen anything so warm in all his life.

"Levi," Erwin whispered again, wrapping his arm around Levi and pulling their bodies together as Levi's arms slipped around him as well, their gazes never breaking. Settled comfortably against one another, Levi's warm body held close to him, Erwin had never felt so at peace.

So this is what Levi wanted so badly for me, he realized, another rush of gratitude filling him.

"I love you, Levi," he said.

"I love you, Erwin," Levi said softly.

There was no need for good-byes or thank you's anymore between them. They sat there, held by one another in perfect comfort, their hearts in perfect resonance, united. When the firestorm finally burned itself out a week later, that was how Hanji and her recovery team found them, side-by-side, uncharred, their heads cradled against one another as they had been when they had eventually closed their heavy eyelids and the oxygen had gradually run out.

"Looks like they were able to slip away together peacefully," Hanji said, smiling, the tremor barely audible in her voice as she reached out to brush both their cheeks a last time.

"Commander," Moblit murmured, holding a clean handkerchief unobtrusively at her shoulder.

"Thanks, Mo," she said, taking it, and wiping her eyes briefly. When she turned to face him, it was with a sad but genuine smile.

"I'm glad they weren't burned," she said. "And that they were together." Then she strode to the cave's mouth and raised her voice to the surrounding troops scattered about the hillside around them.

"The two greatest heroes of the war against the titans lost their lives here, holding the one vulnerable spot in our perimeter as the titan threat was eliminated once and for all. But we owe them for far more than what they did here. On that day, the last day of our long war, they held this place as mankind's last bastion of hope, but they have been that for us for far longer than that. For all they gave, for all they sacrificed, both then and from decades before, we thank and salute them! Brave men and women of the Survey Corps, offer up your hearts!"

The intensity of the salute offered then perhaps surpassed even those that the legendary Commander Smith had famously commanded in his day, and Hanji hoped that somewhere, Erwin had seen it and was proud. After she'd dismissed her troops, she glanced back at the silent pair behind her and sent them a prayer of her own.

May you sleep well, in peace and in love, together always. And when you wake, may it be to one another, in the joy and ease that you've won for us all.

/END/