Wounded
It hurts.
That's the first thing he notices when he comes to. There's no specific point to pinpoint; everything hurts.
He groans.
"Levi!" A voice sounds somewhat left of him, and he turns his head toward the source.
A warm hand softly touches his forehead. He shivers. "Hange?" he rasps. And he winces at the raw sound of his own voice. He tries to lift his heavy eyelids, trying to remember the reason it feels like his body is on fire, trying to figure out why his right eye doesn't seem to cooperate. By the time he can finally make out the blurry shape of Hange next to him, his head is pounding—making thinking even more impossible.
"Hey." He's met with a soft smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit." He mutters. And he closes his one eye again against the stinging sensation of pain.
The sound of rustling clothes.
"Here, you need to drink something." And a hand carefully slides under his head, another bringing a glass cold water to his lips.
"Drink slowly," Hange warns. And Levi obeys.
The cold of the water seems to clear the fog in his head somewhat. And he finally begins to notice his surroundings. White walls, white sheets. Nothing he recognizes. And his vision still doesn't seem to clear. He frowns. But his mind refuses to operate. "Hange," and he can only whisper, even talking hurts. "Where are we." He tries to lift his arm. "Why—"
He sucks in a breath. And something close to a sob forces its way out of his throat before he can stop it.
Immediately the warm touch is back. "Try not to move too much, you're injured." Soft fingers sweep away strands of hair. "It's okay, you're alright."
He frowns again.
"Just try to sleep a little bit more, okay."
And all of a sudden he's exhausted again, the heaviness of sleep already pulling at his eyelids.
He tries to fight it. But his eye slides shut, the sharp pain dulling to a more bearable throb.
For a moment longer, he fights off the unconsciousness.
Because there's something important he's missing, and he needs to know.
Because even through the haze that he can't seem to shake off, Hange sounds a little desperate.
Then, the world fades, pulling him away from the pain and confusion.
Carefully avoiding the white bandages, Hange once more lays a hand on Levi's forehead, the upcoming fever already burning under her palm.
"It's okay."
"It's going to be okay."
I'm never going to believe anything anymore before the whole chapter comes out. D:
I'm so glad Levi is still alive! (Go Hange!) I personally believe Levi will pull through. But we'll have to wait and see where the story goes. *Pls Isayama*
I hope you enjoyed this small fic!
All the mistakes are mine.