He's always hated hospitals. He doesn't understand the enthusiasm behind rushing the near-dying to this under staffed pit of chemicals and misplaced hope.

Shrouded in despair, It smelt of tears and corpses.

It reminded him of his mother.

…

Light eyelashes flutter soundlessly as blue eyes awoke in a drugged haze.

Levi hears them anyway.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he mutters, having materialized by the bed side, holding on to the tubes gingerly so that Erwin could sit up straight.

There's a sharp, gutting pain in his left rib as he changes positions but serving in the Survey corps has helped him master his ability to mask his emotions.

Serving under Erwin Smith, a man who never gives anything away, Levi has become a master in reading these emotions, regardless.

"… The mission was a failure," he says quietly.

A small smile forms on Erwin's rough, chapped lips. It infuriates him.

"… No. We learnt something important."

That even the Commander of the Survey Corps can be crushed in the hands of a Titan, in less than a fucking second, he thinks bitterly.

"… We cannot have freedom if we keep hesitating, Levi."

And once again Levi understands the depth of the distance between them, the myopia of his vision, and the inevitability of his heartbreak.

"Keep this up," he snarls, before storming out of the medical ward, "… and all I will have left is your dead carcass."

…

It's past midnight, and 3 bottles of whisky and his squad is engaged in conversation that he's pretty sure makes sense to none of them.

"… She said she doesn't want to marry me," Gunther cries, with real, fat tears in his eyes, clutching his glass like it was his only lifeline. "She-she," he stutters with a sob, "says that if I'm so hell bent on going beyond the walls and getting myself killed, she doesn't want a future with me."

Erd pats his back awkwardly and reaches to refill his glass.

"… It's the sex," Auruo declares. "Women will never say it to you straight, but it's obvious that the sex isn't good enough."

"… Auruo!" Petra gasps, "I'm sure she," –

- "… You've got to give it give it to her hard and fast. You can't be a pussy in bed the same way you are while fighting Titans. The last woman I banged just couldn't get enough of me, you know. She kept begging," –

- "FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Just the shut the fuck up, you pig head," Petra bit out, unable to take his self-indulgent sniggering any longer, "We all know that the only woman who's ever given you the time of the day was your mother, and that's because she didn't have a choice in the matter."

Erd guffaws, choking on his drink. "Erd, stop drinking already, you're piss-drunk and you know we wanted to save the last bottle for next time. We don't know when we'll get this luxury of time and alcohol again."

"… The love of my life hates me," comes a whine that nobody really wants to deal with anymore.

She sighs, "Gunther, you two obviously just had a fight. She's scared, for obvious reasons. We all are. She's just worried about you. You're lucky you have someone like that in your life. Just go talk to her before we leave tomorrow, okay?" She squeezes his hand reassuringly.

"Now you idiots just go get some sleep already. We've got drills in the morning."

"… You're not the boss of us, Petra," Auruo pouts, sticking out his lip in an utterly childish way that he will deny tomorrow, with all his sobriety, that he ever did.

"Well I am," says a voice from the corner, a unique mix of faintly amused and beyond irritated, "and I agree with her. She's the only one that ever speaks any sense among you loons. Now beat it. We're done for the night."

"… Ah, Captain, I didn't see you there," she says meekly, running a self-conscious hand through the back of her hair. "I apologize for being so noisy."

The corners of his mouth lift up in a smirk. "… Don't. It was entertaining."

She feels the praise heat up her cheeks and turns away awkwardly. "W-wow, would you look at the mess we've made!" She bends and begins to pick up the bottles and glasses, "I'll just finish cleaning this up and then go to bed, Cap," –

- "I'll help," he says, and it takes a second for her to realise how close he is.

It takes another for that very same realization to completely screw with her head and cause her to lose her balance, letting the glass fall to the floor.

"… I'm so sorry," she squeaks, utterly mortified by her gracelessness. There's alcohol all over her white uniform shirt, shards all over the floor and under her hands, as she tries to lift herself off the floor -

- "Slow down," he snaps, "You're fucking bleeding everywhere, Petra!"

She glances down at her palms and sure enough it's oozing deep red. "… It's fine," she gulps, more as an affirmation to herself than him, "I'm fine, I'll just," –

He grabs her up by the arm and seats her gingerly on the chair, before heading to the supply cabinet. "Captain," she starts, her voice still a little shaky, "I can," –

- "Just sit," he commands, in this voice that he rarely uses outside out of emergency Titan-related situations, the kind that says I'm your superior, so shut the fuck up and listen to me.

So, she does. He's quite as he wedges the shards out of her skin, holding her hand delicately as she winces. The sting of the medicinal alcohol is a welcome distraction from his fingers on her and his ridiculously delicious proximately.

Ridiculous, because she knows she's the only one harbouring these unneeded, pesky feelings.

"Be careful," he scolds, his voice low, "… we shed enough blood as it is."

It was the sombre, cold, hard truth. The SC were little more than a rapidly exhaustive resource.

She tries to shift his attention. "Why weren't you drinking with us today?"

He'd been drinking by himself in the corner anyway, he could've just sat with the squad even if he didn't verbally participate in their nonsense, like he usually did.

He takes so long to answer that she almost thinks he won't.

"… There were some things on my mind," he murmurs, finishing up the wrap on her bandage and standing up. "There, we're done. Now you can go upstairs to your bunk, I'll finish cleaning up here."

He expects a protest, typical of Petra, but instead, "… Was it about the Commander?"

He swivels to look at her. "Why would you ask that?" He blurts, tone harsh.

"… Is he getting better?"

"They haven't ruled out the chances of lower limb paralysis yet," he states quietly.

He doesn't know what possesses him to keep talking but he continues, "… maybe it's better this way."

"What do you mean?"

"… Maybe this way he wouldn't have to go out there anymore…"

"Captain," she says in a low tone, "he's the Commander of the Survey Corps, he can't just sit inside," –

- "Exactly," he snaps, exasperated, "how is he supposed to be humanity's hope if he's fucking dead?"

"Humanity's hope…," she hesitates, wondering if she's pushing too far, "or yours?"

He narrows his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

…

She's afraid to say it. Not because Levi is her superior and speaking out of turn may jeopardize her career. Not because she's afraid of him.

She's afraid that the moment she does say it, she'll know it was true.

"I saw you," she whispers, "when you took him to the hospital."

The fear, the anger, the helplessness.

"… You didn't move, didn't eat, didn't look away from him, till he woke up. It was 3 days, Captain."

She had heard it when she lingered back a little longer because she was worried for her Captain.

The broken, undeniable note of a sob.

"… You wouldn't understand," he murmurs, bitterly.

She didn't need to see his ashen face to know it was true.

She'd known, suspected his feelings for the longest time.

Ever since she'd known hers.

"… You're in love with him… Aren't you?"