A/N: Thanks for the reviews and comments so far! I was hoping to finish off this particular arc in this chapter, but it ended up running long, so I split it into two chapters instead. I'll try not to take too long with chapter 5. Thank you for reading!
-4-
Erupt
Erwin drifted through his post-expedition routine in a fog. He was trapped in a strange, surreal dream: the room he undressed in, the water he bathed in, the skin he soaped, none of it was real. The eyes, staring, the soft whispers of his colleagues, all fragments of a dream. He towelled off numb skin, dressed, found his way back to his room, and then lied down, staring at the ceiling.
Always, his ears were strained, carefully listening for the sound of bells.
When a knock sounded at the door, he wondered if it would be good news, or bad news, or none at all. "Come in."
The door opened to reveal Keith Shadis. The sympathy in the ex-Commander's eyes felt out of place; emotions did not belong in this numb dream world.
"I came as fast as I could." Shadis stepped into the room and closed the door. "I'm so sorry to hear about Anke."
Erwin's head rolled along the pillow as his gaze returned to the ceiling. "We lost two Squad Leaders as well. Hange Zoe and Levi." The man's name slid between his lips like burning liquid, left them blistering.
"Shit." Shadis' face fell. He crossed the room to stand by the bed, hands clasped behind his back. "I was already sweetening up the powers that be to lay a path for research funding for Hange. And Levi… Well, reputation of his skill was spreading. The new trainees all know his name. They were calling him Humanity's Strongest. I'm sorry. I know you had high hopes for them."
Erwin sat up. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the Commanders' pendant, then held it out. "Here."
"Keep it. You're next in line. We'll start the paperwork next week."
He hesitated. "My strategy led everyone to their deaths."
"Your survival numbers were higher than usual. You didn't cause deaths: you prevented them." Shadis dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "You might want to clean the blood off that thing before you start wearing it."
Erwin's thumb slid across the green gemstone, feeling the crusted texture, the only bit of Anke that remained. He swallowed hard. "I need you to show me the proper paperwork to file-"
"Later. We'll worry about the bureaucracy tomorrow. Take a night to collect yourself."
How could he collect himself when he hadn't yet fallen apart?
Shadis gave him a kind smile and turned to leave, but Erwin, suddenly remembering a question on his mind, caught his arm to stop him. "Keith. Among the supplies we recovered, we found locked red boxes stamped with the royal seal, and very little else of value. Do you know what they are?"
The man's expression was unreadable. "Tax collections. When Wall Maria fell, there wasn't enough time to transport all the wealth back to the King, so the Garrison stored lockboxes inside military silos for safekeeping."
"We risked our lives for that silo. We were led to believe that there were supplies of value in there." Erwin's jaw clenched as he remembered Levi's words: someone set us up to fail.
"Sometimes, it's difficult to know how many supplies remain in our caches. There can be looters and-"
"Outside the walls? Besides, the locks were rusted shut; no one has been in them for years." Erwin leaned closer, brows low. "Our informant duped us by exaggerating the supplies in this silo, knowing we'd find the King's gold instead and return it. This was always about money, under the guise of being for the sake of humanity."
His mentor looked uneasy. "That's a bit of a stretch. We have to assume that the information was given in good faith. All branches of the military are working toward the same goal."
Are they really? "Who provided us with the tip about the silo in the first place? It was someone close to the King, wasn't it?"
Now Shadis looked outright uncomfortable.
"Keith." Erwin gave him a friendly smile. "I won't do anything untoward. If I'm going to command the Survey Corps, I have to know which sources are reliable for accurate information, and clearly this one is either corrupt or being led astray from above."
Shadis sighed. "Very well. Captain Nile Dok of the Military Police."
"Nile?" That was a surprise. Nile had been his dearest friend, once upon a time, and while the man was a bit of a yes-man, he wasn't the type to become corrupt.
"I spoke with him last month. He was going through old files and discovered several stockpiles; this particular silo was the most promising on the list."
"I see." The next time Erwin was in the Capital, he would have to pay his old friend a visit. Perhaps he could take him for drinks, get him talking a bit.
"Erwin."
He looked up to see Shadis looking at him with concern.
"Yes?"
"Don't get obsessed with this, not when you're so raw. Take a night off to grieve. You can't bottle up emotions and expect them to go away. Trust me, I tried. They just end up venting themselves at the wrong times, in unhealthy ways."
Erwin focused on the pendant, using his thumbnail to flake off the dried blood. "With all due respect, Keith, people mourn in different ways. I am no stranger to death. I will be fine."
His mentor's face was drawn, the shadows under his eyes heavy. "I worry about you, son. You push yourself too hard. You're a brilliant mind, and humanity can't afford to have you burn out."
The term 'son' and the words that followed made Erwin's throat tighten, but he swallowed hard to clear it. "If it will put your mind at ease, I'll take the night off."
"Good. Please let me know if you need anything."
Shadis left the room, the door closing behind him.
Erwin finished cleaning the pendant, then put it on. The last thing he wanted right now was to take a night off. Pressure was still building from deep within him, and lying in bed thinking was only going to make it harder to maintain his denial. He considered joining others in the mess hall, but decided he needed to be alone - everyone kept giving him those unnerving sympathetic looks.
The bottle of whiskey was still in his office, waiting for Levi's return. Maybe he would help himself to a taste of it while he waited.
.*.*.*.
Darkness was rapidly descending on Levi and Hange, and the temperature was dropping with it. Levi wrapped his arms tightly around himself, trying not to show that he was shivering. Even worse than the cold, he had to take a piss, but he'd be damned if he was going to piss off a tree branch, especially with Hange sitting right beside him. This whole situation was annoying, and he couldn't wait until morning arrived and they could get the fuck out of there.
It wasn't all bad, at least. He couldn't see the base of the tree in the darkness, but the lack of thuds below them suggested the titans had given up, for now.
"Levi?" said Hange tentatively, as if afraid to flare up his anger. "I had to kill a few titans while you were out. There were some interesting findings."
He chewed the inside of his cheek. "I don't care about your fucking findings."
"Last expedition, I kicked a titan's severed head. It was feather-light. Isn't that odd? They're so massive that one would expect them to be heavy. So this time, I chopped off an arm of one of my victims and tried to move it-"
"I don't care." Nausea welled in Levi's chest, white hot, and this time, he couldn't will his way out of it. He leaned forward and wretched. There was nothing he hated more than losing control of his own body, and when it was finally over, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Disgusting."
Hange moved to sit beside him and peered down. "I bet you hit one of them."
"Good. I hope it landed right in its revolting mouth."
"You okay?"
He glared. "No, shitty four-eyes, I am not fucking okay."
Hange's legs swung, childlike. "It's always shit with you, isn't it? Shit and cleaning. You're the perfect definition of 'anal retentive.'"
"Don't analyze me, or I swear I'll fucking jump into a titan's maw right now."
"Leave me your gas before you jump."
He looked up, surprised, and saw Hange smirking at him.
"Fuck off," he muttered, gathering his knees to his chest. He wanted to fall back into a long silence, but his bladder was going to burst. Wetting himself would be even less dignified than pissing from a tree branch. He cursed to himself and stood. "Turn your back."
"You shouldn't be standing," said Hange with concern. "You might lose your balance."
"Better than pissing myself. Do not turn around, you hear me?" Levi shakily made his way toward the end of the tree branch, stopping before it got too thin. The thick jacket was awkward to push aside, and the cold and lack of light didn't make his task any easier. He hoped he wasn't accidentally urinating on his boots.
Once the disgusting task was complete, he carefully adjusted his uniform into place. His hands felt grimy and unclean, but there was nothing to wash them with unless he sacrificed some of their precious drinking water. Scowling, he returned to his spot and sat.
"Done?" asked Hange.
"Yeah, you can turn around again." He hugged his knees to his chest, shivering. He felt a hand tugging at his fur-lined hood, and he tried to duck away. "What are you doing?"
"Cover your head. You'll stay warmer that way."
"I know that," he muttered, jerking his hood into place. "I was shivering on the streets for years while you were tucked away in your warm little university."
There was a long pause. "I didn't go to university."
"What?" He glanced at Hange, who was staring absently at the ground below them.
"My resume is a lie. My family couldn't afford to send me to university. I spent all my spare time in libraries, teaching myself."
He considered. "Being self-taught is more impressive than having it all force-fed to you, really." Seeing that Hange's mouth was beginning to droop, he added, "You've been watching titans all day, right? You should write down everything you saw. Maybe something you observed will help us learn more about them. You could come out of this a hero."
There was no response except for a tiny smile, but that was enough to make him feel a little better. The two of them didn't know each other well yet, but as stoic as he pretended to be, he hated to see anyone down on themselves.
"It's getting cold," said Hange. "Would you mind if we sat back-to-back? That way, we can share body heat without it being too intimate."
He shrugged and turned his back, and Hange mirrored the motion. After a few minutes, he could feel heat building between them, and his shivering began to subside. Body heat in the cold reminded him of the rooftop again, and his teeth clenched. Can't you go two fucking minutes without thinking about Erwin?
He apparently wasn't the only one whose thoughts were back at the base. "What do you think the others are doing right now?" It was strange to hear an even tone coming from Hange; maybe that seemingly unlimited energy had a limit after all.
"Mike's drinking," he said. "Anke's doing paperwork. And Erwin..." He trailed off. "They all think we're dead, don't they?" Was Erwin mourning? It was difficult to picture the man showing any emotions. The grief he had shown over the framed drawing the week before was the first time Levi had seen any sadness on his face. How upset is he? Was I important to him, or just a project?
"You and Erwin," said Hange, as if it were the beginning of the sentence.
His muscles tensed. "Yeah?"
"I always wondered what you did to convince him to bring you into the Corps."
Levi shrugged. "I tried to go toe-to-toe with him, and almost got the better of him. He liked my skills and my attitude."
"That's it?"
"Look, if you're going to ask me what goes on in Erwin Smith's head, I can't answer you, because I have no fucking idea." He wished he knew. Maybe that was part of the reason this stupid crush had gotten out of control; he had always been drawn to a challenge. Erwin was more than a challenge. He was an impossibility.
Hange paused, then said softly, "I thought there might be more to it than that."
Panic fluttered in his chest, but he scoffed and said coolly, "Why would you think that?"
"Well, you've mentioned his name about five or six times since you woke up. And the way the two of you interact, like back at the silo, or when you were interviewing me - it's as if half the words don't get spoken aloud."
"We work together a lot."
Hange twisted to look back at him. "I saw the two of you on the rooftop last night."
His eyes narrowed. "What?"
"You seemed pretty upset, and we've got some time, so I thought you might like to talk through it."
"What the hell? You were spying on us?" He reached behind him to smack Hange's head.
"Ow! Not spying. I'm a scientist. I observe."
"I'm not a fucking test subject." He reached back for another smack, but this time, Hange ducked out of the way.
"Stop hitting me. I'm just making an effort to be your friend."
"Spying is a shitty thing to do." Levi rested his chin on his knees, brows low. "You want to be my friend? Don't fucking spy on me."
There was a long silence, and Hange's back began to quiver against his. He couldn't tell if it was from the cold or tears, but the latter possibility made him feel awful. He gave an exasperated sigh. Maybe it would feel good to get this off his chest.
"Say I do want to talk about it. It all stays between us, right?"
"Of course," said Hange. "I won't tell a single person."
Levi shifted his legs to get more comfortable. Talking about his feelings wasn't something that came naturally to him. Growing up in the gutters meant toughing through problems, not dwelling on them. He took a deep breath.
"So maybe I care about him a bit more than I'd like, yeah. Problem is, he lost someone once, and I think it hurt him more than he lets on. Says he's afraid of losing someone he cares about, or dying and leaving them behind. Or maybe he was just trying to let me down gently."
"No, he's definitely attracted to you," said Hange. "He behaves strangely around you sometimes, like he's afraid to touch you. Except last night, I guess."
Levi's cheeks warmed. "You watch him a lot?"
"I watch everyone a lot. Scientist, remember?"
"Creepy." He chipped at a piece of loose bark with his heel. "I keep wondering how he's reacting right now. Part of me hopes he's crying his fucking eyes out. The other part of me doesn't want him to suffer like that, and hopes he isn't really upset. Both options make me feel like shit."
"Assuming he made it back safely, of course," said Hange off-handedly.
Levi whirled. "Why the fuck would you say that?" He hadn't even considered the possibility that Erwin could have died in the attack. His head began to swim. "Dammit, I have a concussion here. You shouldn't be stressing me out."
"Sorry. I didn't think. I'm sure he's fine."
Levi tightened his arms around his body, shivering hard.
.*.*.*.
Erwin ran a finger around the rim of his glass, eyes fixed on the window. It was nearing ten o'clock, and it was taking considerable effort to maintain his veil of denial. Every passing hour just added to the evidence that Levi wouldn't return. He carefully meted out another small glass of whiskey, making sure to reserve enough for four drinks each for him and Levi. After tonight, he was certain, the man was going to need them.
A knock sounded at the door, and even though he was sure the return would cause an uproar that would have alerted him in advance, his hopes rose. "Come in."
The door swung open to reveal not Levi, but Dita, carrying a box. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but since you're Levi's next of kin..."
Erwin stared numbly at the box. It was customary to empty the bunks of the deceased on the night of their passing, but Levi wasn't dead, he wasn't dead...
Without leaving his chair, he nodded. "Bring it here please, Dita."
"Sir." The man set the box on the desk, then saluted. "I'm sorry for your loss, sir. He was a good man."
Erwin nodded again. He stared at the box until Dita left the room, and then drained his drink. Careful to save three drinks' worth of whiskey for him and Levi, he poured another glass.
Levi is going to return. If I open this tonight, it will violate his privacy.
He took in a slow, shaky breath, then slung back the whiskey and stood. He knew, deep down, that Levi wasn't coming back. In all his expeditions with the Corps, he had never seen a soldier return after becoming separated from the main group, at least not after more than an hour or two. Soon, he was going to have to face the fact that Levi was...
Even the word was unthinkable.
He threw open the flaps. The box was nearly empty. He felt a pang of shame when he saw how few possessions Levi had to his name: a few pairs of old pants and shirts, immaculately pressed; some cleaning supplies; a few Survey Corps patches that looked as if they had been torn off old cloaks; a small, worn dog carved of wood. At the bottom of the box, he found a single envelope with "Erwin" written in Levi's heavy, childlike hand.
He pulled out the envelope and set it on the desk, then rifled through the cleaning supplies until he found a bottle of lemon soap. Feeling a bit embarrassed about it, he popped open the lid and breathed in the scent. It wasn't quite the same without Levi's scent underneath it, but it was still so familiar that tears sprang to his eyes.
Abruptly dropping the soap back into the box, he fell into his chair and helped himself to another drink.
Better hurry back, Levi. There won't be any whiskey left for you, at this rate.
He continued to drink, glancing occasionally out the window. His mind hovered in a neutral mode, concentrating on safe thoughts: the burn of the liquor, the sensation of the glass against his hand.
The town hall clock struck eleven, and Erwin realized the lamp was dimming. He moved to pour more oil into it, almost knocking the lamp over in the process.
Once it was safely refilled, he grabbed the bottle and, bracing his elbow against the table for balance, poured another drink. The last bit of whiskey spilled out of the bottle and into his glass.
With a low sigh, he picked up the envelope Levi had left for him. It took him two tries to slit the wax on the back flap. A letter was inside:
.
Erwin,
I'm no good at these things, so I'll just say thank you. You helped me get my head on straight when it was all mixed up. You were the first and only man I ever respected enough to take orders from. The only man I would ever consider dying for.
I hope I took a few titans down with me when I went.
-Levi
.
Erwin drained his glass, then set the letter down on the desk.
He tried to steady himself, but he felt as if he were eroding from the inside out. Levi hadn't died for him, he had died because of him. Erwin was the whole reason Levi had joined the Corps, the whole reason the man had stayed around when he could have slipped away. 'Thank you' was not the correct response after all Erwin had put him through.
The erosion was close to the surface. His hands began to shake, and his eyes watered. He stood and tried to focus on small tasks to keep himself together: move the empty liquor bottle into the cupboard. Put Levi's belongings neatly in the corner.
As he was moving the box, he stumbled. The lemon soap fell to the ground, and he realized, too late, that he had left the cap loose. Soap began to leak onto the floor. He dropped to his knees, frantically trying to right the bottle and screw the top on, but it was so slippery with soap that he kept dropping it. His breath came in heavy blasts. This was his last link to Levi's scent, his last visceral link to the times they had chatted in close quarters. The soap kept pouring out, draining from the bottle like blood.
A sob erupted from his lips, and he fell to all fours. For the first time since Henrik's death, Erwin began to weep.
.*.*.*.
"When I get back to the base," said Hange drowsily, "I'm going to make them heat the bath, and I'm not coming out until I'm as wrinkled as a raisin. And then I'm going into town and spending my life's savings on good books and mincemeat pies."
Levi grunted his acknowledgement. He was curled in a ball, his forehead resting against his arms, fighting to stay awake.
Hange nudged him with a shoulder. "Don't sleep so soon after a concussion."
"It's bad enough that I have to be stuck up here, but having to stay awake through every moment of it is even worse." He rubbed his face with his mittens, trying to scrub the fog from his mind.
"Keep talking. What are you going to do when you get back?"
Thinking about a nice, warm shelter was the last thing Levi wanted to do, but he heard a note of desperation in Hange's voice. If discussion would help both of them keep sane, then so be it.
"A hot bath would be nice," he said. "I'm going to scrub every inch of filth off my body. Then I'm going to have a bowl of oatmeal heaped with sugar and cream."
"Oatmeal? You can dream up anything, and you choose oatmeal?"
"Shut up. I'll dream up what I want." As a kid living in the streets, he had always dreamed of a hot breakfast, but he didn't owe that explanation to anyone. His head rolled back. Through the branches above him, he could see the clear night sky. The night before, under Erwin's arm, he had marvelled at the beauty of this same sky. Now it seemed empty and cruel.
"What about the Captain?" asked Hange, as if reading his mind.
"What about him?"
"What will you say to him when we get back?"
"I don't know. I guess it depends on how he reacts." He closed his eyes, trying to picture Erwin's reaction to his return, but he had no idea what to expect. It was difficult to imagine emotion on that face. Most likely, he would get a nod, maybe a shoulder squeeze.
A breeze wafted through the branches, carrying the scent of pine needles and snow. Levi shivered and pressed back against Hange.
"What about you?" he asked. "You have a special someone back home?"
There was a long pause. "I'm not interested in romance."
"Married to your work, just like the rest of us sorry bastards?" He pulled his hood further over his face, trying to shield it from the breeze. "I don't get why you're so obsessed with titans, but it's probably a good thing. No one knows a damned thing about them. I know they're quiet down there right now, but I don't know if they're dead or sleeping or what."
"Maybe each night, they go back to their little titan homes and tuck each other into titan beds," said Hange with a hint of mischief. "Papa titan reads baby titan a bedtime story-"
"Please don't do that," he interrupted, grimacing. "Last thing I need is to start putting a human face on those beasts." Killing big, dumb, murderous animals was easy: they were stupid meat sacks with no apparent thoughts of their own. Killing beasts that had communities was a whole different story.
"I was joking." Hange shifted behind him, and when he turned, he saw goggles glinting in the moonlight. "You're softer than I expected. Rumour has it you were quite the dangerous thug a couple years ago."
"Rumour? You mean, Mike?"
"He might have said a thing or two, yeah." Hange's smile glowed in the darkness, giving it a menacing air. "I only ever read about street gangs. Always wondered what they would be like in real life."
He shrugged. "You spend a lot of time hungry, stressed out and dirty. Nothing is ever permanent, not friends or lodgings or even money. You get in lots of fights, though most fights come down to posturing and yelling until one party gets intimidated and backs down, not true violence."
"But you had each other's backs, right?" Hange's hands clasped together. "Bonds thicker than blood, fighting to the death to defend each other's honour-"
"Are you kidding? Everyone was suspicious of everyone all the time. Most of us were together out of necessity, not honour. Although..." He trailed off.
"Although?"
"Sometimes..." He looked down at his mittens, curling and uncurling his fingers. "Sometimes violence is the only way to teach someone their place. Sometimes you do trust a few people, and you end up doing things for them you never thought imaginable." The breeze had been eroding his armour without him realizing it. He felt raw, exposed.
"I took it too far once," he said quietly. "I killed a man. He did something unspeakable to my friend, so I hunted him down. I didn't expect to feel so guilty afterwards. From that point on, I switched my tactics, learning to avoid confrontation instead of seek it. But there's a part of me that wonders..." He trailed off, not quite willing to admit the next words.
Hange had twisted around to lean closer, apparently hanging on to every word. "There's a part of you that liked it, isn't there? And you wonder at your delight in killing titans, if it's exposing a true nature you'd prefer to keep hidden."
His skin crawled. "What if that's what Erwin saw in me when we first met? He saw a psychopath who would delight in making a career of slaughtering things?"
There was a long pause. He felt Hange shift into position again, their backs pressing flat against each other. "Maybe he did. But then maybe he saw himself reflected in you: someone who was willing to go to absolutely any extreme to protect the things they loved."
Levi scoffed. "Killing a man and leading military strategy are two very different things."
"You don't think the two ever coincide?"
"Maybe, but Erwin?" Though the Survey Corps sometimes used violent discipline, he had never seen the man lay a finger on anyone. Not directly, anyway. Sometimes he gave the orders.
Hange's voice lowered. "I hear he used to pull strings for Shadis when it came to stubborn government officials, and no one knows how he did it. Mike thinks it was through blackmail and threats. Maybe even torture."
"Erwin?" The idea was unbelievable, but even if it were true, Levi couldn't decide if it was a deplorable approach or not. How far should a person be willing to go to ensure the survival of humanity?
He recalled that Erwin had mysteriously convinced the higher-ups to allow Levi and his friends into the Survey Corps, bypassing standard procedure. Had all that been through bureaucratic mastery, or had there been some underhanded dealings?
All of this was underscoring one painful fact: he knew almost nothing about Erwin. No one did. Levi's heart pounded. I want to be the one he confides in. I want to be the one person he can come to with anything, without fear of judgement.
"Levi?" asked Hange. "You aren't falling asleep back there, are you?"
His eyes flew open. He had begun to drift off, carried away by his thoughts.
"I'm exhausted," he said. "Can't we secure ourselves to the branches and nap until dawn?"
"Your concussion-"
"Fuck my concussion. If I slip into a coma and die, you can take my gas. You'd have a better chance of escaping without me, anyway."
"Okay." Hange stood and began to manually pull cables out of the gears.
Levi glared. "Thanks for agreeing so quickly. Not one protest about my possible death?"
"I'm tired as hell, and we won't be in any condition to go home tomorrow if we're falling asleep on our feet. I genuinely hope you don't die." Using the cable as a grappling hook, Hange secured it to the branch above them, then locked the cable length at her belt. "There. Need me to do yours, too?"
His reflex was to do it himself, but his head was spinning, and after a few seconds of fumbling with the cord, he gave in. "Yeah."
Once they were safely anchored, he curled on his side, shoving his mittens into the opposite sleeves and burying his face in his wrists.
"Hey Hange," he said.
"Yeah?"
"If I never wake up, and you make it back okay, tell Erwin he's an asshole for leaving us out here to die."
Hange peered at him, eyes twinkling. "I'll give him your cravat and tell him your love for him was so powerful that it transcended rank and social class, and thoughts of his visage were what gave you peace during your final moments."
"Cute. He'll never believe any of that came out of my mouth."
"Don't worry, I'll take some time to refine it during the ride back. I'll probably end up throwing in a couple curses and a shit reference or two."
"You've got me all figured out." He closed his eyes, drowsiness settling over him like a warm blanket. "Guess if I want it done right, I'll just have to survive the night and tell him myself."
"Sounds like a good plan." Hange yawned loudly. "Get some sleep. Don't die."
"You too," mumbled Levi, the words trailing off as sleep overcame him.
.*.*.*.
Erwin awoke with his cheek lying in a puddle of thick liquid. At first, he thought it was blood, but then he smelled lemon. Levi's soap.
The world tilted and spun around him as he struggled to push himself upright. His mouth was dry, and his stomach was heaving. Drank too much.
It took considerable effort to stand. He staggered to his desk and pulled open a drawer to find a clean handkerchief. As he clumsily wiped soap and old tears off his face, his eyes chanced onto Levi's letter, still open on his desk.
He's not back. He needs help.
His eyes narrowed. His horse was fast, and a single soldier could slip through the night undetected. I can be back before dawn.
He staggered to his bedroom. Even drunk, he managed to put on his gear with little effort, having done it so many times before. He grabbed a coin purse and filled it, ready to bribe the Garrison soldiers to let him through the external gate.
His winter jacket was still stained with Anke's blood. His fingers clumsily traced the border of one of the splotches. I'm sorry. I won't let the others die.
The severity of his drunkenness didn't hit him until he was working his way down the narrow stairs to the stables; his body lazily ricocheted between the handrails as he descended. He tried to straighten out his trajectory, but his legs had other ideas. Doesn't matter. Ride will sober me up.
Saddling up his horse was considerably more difficult than putting on his gear. His fingers felt as though they were twice their normal size as he fumbled with the buckles. He was swaying so badly that he had to stop several times to lean against the wall and reorient himself. Paranoid that he had forgotten important steps in his stupor, he triple-checked every buckle. Once he was convinced that everything was ready, he grabbed the horse's bridal and led her through the doors.
A man was standing in the courtyard, hands on his hips. Erwin squinted, but his vision doubled instead of clearing.
"Step aside," he said, and he winced when he heard how badly his voice was slurring. He shouldn't have had so much to drink.
"Erwin, what the fuck are you doing?" asked the man: Mike. His voice was gravelly with fatigue.
Carefully enunciating each word, Erwin replied, "I'm going to the city."
"Why are you wearing your gear?"
With a frown, Erwin began to lead the horse around their obstacle, but the man moved with him, staying in his way.
"Stand down, Mike," he said, trying to ignore the panic building in his stomach – keep it together, keep it together. "That's an order."
"You're not sober enough to pull rank on me." The man folded his arms over his chest, standing tall. "You've been acting crazy ever since we got back."
"I have to leave. They might be alive." He could feel pressure building near the surface now, the last few layers of his control beginning to crack.
"You've got it in your head that you're going to rescue them, right? Going to throw your life away on a stupid drunken hunch. You head out there alone in the dark, you're going to kill your yourself, or your horse, or both." The man stepped in closer, his stance challenging. "This isn't like you."
Erwin tried to push him aside, but Mike caught his wrist. "Please, Erwin. You already let Anke die. I can't lose both of you in one day."
"I let her die?"
"Well, you won't fucking talk to me about it no matter how many times I try. What am I supposed to think happened?"
Erwin could feel his sanity slipping, slipping, fiery rage coiling inside every muscle, ready to spring. "This is your last warning, Mike. Let go of me."
Mike's eyes narrowed. "No."
Adrenaline flooded Erwin's body.
The man standing before him was no longer just Mike Zacharias, but the embodiment every obstacle that had ever stood in Erwin's way - the corrupt government, every titan he had faced, the walls themselves. Nothing was going to stand in his way, not this time.
He drove his foot at the back of his attacker's knee, zeroing in on the exact point that would make the man buckle. Mike yelped and dropped. Erwin's rage told him to keep fighting, but he ignored it, instead snatching his arm free. He grabbed the reins and began to stumble toward the gate.
Running footsteps sounded behind him.
He turned in time to see Mike's fist driving for his face. His dulled reflexes didn't allow him to dodge and retain his footing at the same time; he spun out of the way, but fell. Mike dropped on top of him, pinning him to the ground.
"What the hell's going on?" asked a woman's voice nearby.
"Erwin's fucking lost it. Go get Shadis," said Mike, turning his head to address her.
Honing in on the opening, Erwin drove the heel of his palm into the man's jaw. Mike yelled and fell back, clutching at his face. Erwin scrambled to his feet. The world swayed, and he staggered, fighting to keep his balance.
The man bowled into him again, and they rolled, the metal boxes of the gear slamming painfully into Erwin's thighs. He landed on his back, his breath knocked from him in a yell. A fist drove for his face. He turned his head to avoid it, too slowly; knuckles connected with his eye socket. Stars sparked across his vision. He shielded his face with his forearms, blocking a second punch, then a third.
Above the ringing in his ears, he could hear his attacker yelling. "-you selfish bastard! How many people have to die-"
He grabbed Mike's collar and tried to throw him off, but that only provoked another flurry of punches. Waiting for an opening, he swung his elbow at the man's face. Bone connected with cartilage with a crack so strong that it vibrated through his arm and shoulder.
Mike rolled off him, clutching his nose and howling. Blood began to seep through the cracks between his fingers, dripping down his forearms.
Erwin took a moment to catch his breath, then shakily pushed himself to his feet. "I'm sorry it came to that, Mike."
"My fucking nose!"
"Don't follow me." He grabbed the reins and began to lead the horse around his defeated opponent.
"Smith!" barked Shadis behind him. "Take one more step, and I'll have you tried for desertion."
Erwin's stomach dropped. He turned to see his ex-Commander flanked by two wide-eyed Team Leaders.
"Moblit, take Zacharias to the sanatorium. Eld, you take care of the horse." Shadis strode forward to stand before Erwin, hands clasped behind his back, face grim. "Take off your gear."
Erwin held the man's gaze without flinching, even though he could barely stand. Aside from the effects of the alcohol, his left eye was swelling, his lip throbbed, and his legs and hips were battered from rolling around in the gear. He tried to think his way out of the conversation, but his mind was still feral.
"Captain Smith," said his mentor, the words laced with a quiet danger, "that was an order."
Without dropping his gaze, Erwin unbuckled his gear and lowered the entire apparatus to the ground, then clumsily stepped out of it. "Sir."
"Good. Come with me."
"Fuck you, Erwin," snarled Mike behind him.
"Knock it off, Zacharias," said Shadis, his voice weary. "Anke's old office, Smith. Now."
"Sir." Erwin fell into step behind him. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, his body was remembering how intoxicated it was, and it was difficult to move in a straight line. His hands were quivering, and he felt as if he were going to vomit. Above it all, he couldn't shake the feeling that each step he took away from his horse was a betrayal of Levi.
The began to walk down the hallway toward the offices.
Without turning around, Shadis said, "Which one? Levi, Hange or Anke?"
"Sir?"
"Which one were you in love with?"
Erwin's jaw tightened and he didn't reply.
"It is one of them, isn't it? The only other time I've seen you pull bullshit like this was when Henrik Schermer died." The ex-Commander gave a low sigh. "When I said you needed to get in touch with your emotions a bit more, this wasn't what I had in mind." He opened the door to Anke's old office.
Erwin fell into a chair and raked a hand through his hair. His entire body was trembling now, and he felt as if he were going to collapse at any moment. Levi, Hange, Anke: he felt the pain of all their deaths, all at once. He would give anything to feel numb again.
Across from him, Shadis leaned back in his chair, his face softening. "How are you feeling?"
"Like hell."
"Here." Shadis pushed a plate toward him; it was covered in crumbs, but still held one lemon wafer. He filled a glass from a pitcher of water. "This will help."
Erwin's stomach was heaving too badly to eat anything, but he gratefully accepted the water. He took small sips, praying with each one that it would stay down.
His mentor poured a glass for himself. "I can relate to what you're going through more than you might think."
"This discussion isn't necessary," said Erwin. He already knew he had been out of line.
"No? I have a Squad Leader out there with a broken nose who would probably say you deserve a good lecture. Hell, I have half a mind to repeatedly dunk your face in ice water until you sober up, so consider yourself lucky I'm just talking at you." Shadis took a sip of water. "When I was just a bit younger than you, I was in love with one of my fellow soldiers. I wasn't present when she died; she was on a routine scouting mission, not even a proper expedition. I went batshit insane when I found out. Pulled a blade on my Squad Leader in front of the entire dining hall. We all snap now and then, sometimes spectacularly, and nothing is more likely to push us over the edge than losing someone we love."
Erwin bowed his head, jaw clenching.
"You're still wishing Mike hadn't stopped you, aren't you?" said Shadis. "You're pissed at us for interfering. What were you planning to do, risk your life for a corpse or two?"
Swallowing hard, Erwin didn't reply.
"Well, when you're sober and you've had a night to distance yourself from this, you'll start to realize how badly you fucked up. But it's okay. Everyone fucks up, even Commanders. The important thing, the thing people will remember, is how you react after you fuck up. You still have a chance to set things right." Shadis leaned forward. "Tomorrow, address the entire Corps and own up to what you did: you lost someone you cared about, and you reacted by attacking Mike and trying to abscond with your gear and a horse. No excuses, just the facts and your apology. The soldiers will respect your honesty. Maybe consider a sincere apology to Mike, too. He was just trying to save you from yourself."
Every aspect of this was so degrading that Erwin's skin crawled. He hoped he was drunk enough that this entire situation would be an empty hole in his memory in the morning.
"Come with me." Shadis stood. "I'm walking you back to your room and posting a guard on you."
"A guard?"
"Just until you come to your senses. Can't have you sneaking off in the middle of the night and getting yourself killed."
It was humiliating to be treated like a disobedient child, and even more humiliating to admit that he deserved it. He closed his eyes.
"Levi."
"What?"
"You asked if it was Anke, Hange or Levi. It was Levi." His voice cracked, and he was tripping over the words, but it felt so good to say them aloud. "You were right: trying to repress feelings just makes them erupt at the wrong time. I broke formation to look for him after the explosion. If I hadn't, maybe Anke would have pushed the formation faster right out of the gates. Maybe we wouldn't have been in the path of the abnormal that killed her. My actions didn't save Levi, and they cost us Anke." His body was trembling uncontrollably. "How can I possibly undo all that with an apology?"
"That pendant you wear around your neck is heavier than the other Commanders' pendants," said Shadis. "The nature of the Survey Corps is such that there will be many deaths under your command, and if you think about them too much, you'll be able to find a way to pin every single one of them on yourself. Don't let them destroy you, but don't forget about them, either. This is the loss you need to consider when you're strategizing, the human element I had to keep reminding you of." He surprised Erwin by pulling him in for a stiff, formal hug, clapping him on the back. "And for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry about Levi."
He's not dead, thought Erwin, but the outburst had completely shattered his denial, and this time, he recognized the words as a lie.
