A/N: Omfg I keep forgetting to update on here! I always post on AO3 first and then just... totally forget I'm posting this here DX I'm so sorry! I hope this makes up for it! Happy belated Valentine's Day!
The next break came when Mikasa fell to her death.
Time held no concept in the endless labyrinth of trees, penetrated only by a quiet, looming darkness and speckled moonlight. The sound of river faded long ago, which may have only been a few minutes but she couldn't tell at all, and was replaced by the occasional drifting wind, crickets. Mikasa couldn't remember the last time in her life her body had been under so much agonizing strain — each fiber of her felt like an inferno of torture — but she dug out dregs of willpower in order to obediently followed the tormenting figure called Corporal anyway. She did not complain.
When it felt like her legs were going to snap in two the fireflies appeared. The sudden points of light startled her, and she jerked her hands to her blades only to realize stupidly that they were not the glinting eyes of titans. They created a long trail that wove through the wood, flashing in and out of existence, and amidst all the suffering in her body, there was finally a small, peaceful twinge.
She hadn't seen fireflies in a long time, come to think of it. Night patrol hadn't been on her schedule in ages, and as protocol demanded, all the other low-rank soldiers were in bed by nightfall. A sense of nostalgia made her yearn for Eren again, and her fingertips pinched her scarf to her face. Mikasa breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent that had turned faint, but the fragrance of pine still lingered, and she half-smiled. Like Levi, didn't it?
That thought broke her from her dream. All at once, she became cripplingly aware of her every injury, her hypothermia, her aching heart. The world turned a lulling shade of black that drank itself of endless sleep. Falling didn't feel real, as that was all she had been doing for so long now, and the absence of that fear was as welcoming as a fireplace and tea during winter, or waking up in the morning wrapped in the arms of someone you loved.
If a tree falls in the woods with no one around to hear it, does it make a sound? Maybe, she thought, dying was that easy after all. It did not have to be a glorious fight to the end. It could be quiet, and pass unnoticed.
If a girl falls from a tree in the woods with no one around to care, she thinks it probably wouldn't make a noise at all.
Levi was a man who had no qualms with doing what he wanted to, when he wanted to, how he wanted to. So when he repeatedly, viciously, endlessly had the desire to turn around and mercilessly kiss the girl that trailed like a ghost behind him, and repeatedly, wretchedly, endlessly had to push the thought down and pretend it didn't exist, it made for a very bizarre feeling in his stomach.
All of his muscles were taut with frustration, and it make his wounds hurt worse but he couldn't bring himself to care. Furthermore, he was preoccupied with not only traveling through the branches, but also replaying the moment when Mikasa realized the meaning behind his words. How her dark eyes widened, imperceptibly, and turned blank. How she withdrew her hand from his as if it burned her. How all of her little things, her body language and aura and presence, shifted, collapsing in on herself until she was behind so many walls he didn't think he'd ever truly see her again.
Maybe that was the thought that was the most painful. Riding on the miracle that they didn't die one way or another and returned to their home alive, he would have to resign himself to the fact that they would probably be even more perfectly distant than they had been in the first place. The underlying animosity wouldn't even be there to keep him warm at night, he thought with a hard smirk. Mikasa refused to look at him. To experience that, day by day in the corridors, knowing what lie underneath — a woman who was incomparably able to shape herself around him and be fiercesome, but be patient, and be intelligent, and kind, gentle, and so fucking strong he knew it was something just to behold her existence — wouldn't that be the worst torment of all? To have her so close that he could simply reach out and touch her, but have that single motion be his undoing.
His head hurt. His limbs felt like they had been encased in solid metal. There was a fair chance that they were going to die in the next few hours.
Like a string tugging from the back of his neck, Levi suddenly felt a wave of sickening tingles and landed hard on the next bough, spinning rapidly on his heel to glance behind him. Instantly, his gaze sharpened and focused on the object of his distress, and time moved very slowly as he watched her body limpen like a puppet cut from its paddle.
Her name tore from his throat.
His mind felt hyperactive and sluggish, as if he hadn't slept in days, and he cursed his aching body for reacting more slowly than he wanted. There was the simultaneous motions of his arm outstretched to catch her while his other refired his grapples to carry them. But she was falling much faster than he was moving, and his decision took scarcely a millisecond to process — he hit the gas and went spiraling onward with the extra kick of momentum.
He collided with her painfully, her ragdoll form crashing into his bruised ribs like concrete, and Levi hissed through his teeth as he struggled to extend his legs enough to land his feet on the next lowest branch, which was a frightful several meters below them. Jaw set, he prepared himself for the inevitably unpleasant impact that could break any number of his bones if he took it wrong. He could die, easily. They could die.
It would probably be his fault.
Something feral rose up in the marrow of his being, and when his heels hit the bark hard and dug in with their full weight, he heard it crack. There was nothing in his mind except wild, incoherent desperation, a rawness that he kept under lock and key, but when his lips curled and he heard a faint sound from Mikasa, it drained away like the color in his face.
"Mikasa?" His voice didn't sound like his own — it was too tight, too hesitant — but wide-eyed, he acquiesced to his wobbling legs and gingerly lowered himself and Mikasa to the flat crook of the tree limb.
"Hey. Wake up — please. Mikasa, wake up."
Don't have a concussion, he thought, barely registering the slight tone of panic in his own mind. Don't be dead. Don't die. Please, please, open your eyes. Let me see your eyes again.
"Mikasa. Please."
Cradling her in his lap and trying to control his erratic breathing, all previous concerns of propriety and professional standards went out the window with his carefully-contained composure. His hands, almost shaking, cupped her face like it might shatter in his hold, and he stroked the apples of her cheeks anxiously. Her eyelashes glanced the tip of his thumb, and he swallowed hard, feeling an emotion well up in his throat like a stone, and—
She winced and made an unhappy noise, and Levi groaned out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"Mikasa! Mikasa, listen to me, please listen to me you stupid, insolent girl. I am your Corporal. I am your commanding officer. And I am — I am ordering you to wake up. I'm ordering you to not die. God fucking damn it, I'm not carrying your body back. Not yours. Do you hear me? You're coming back alive with me." Something dangerous seemed to press at the back of his eyes, and Levi fiercely bit his lip, refusing to let it happen. His voice wavered. "Please, Mikasa. I need... I need you to just... wake up."
Eternity held itself in the gap between his grim expression and her calm, blank features. Cruelty made it last longer, and Levi was struggling to keep a hold on himself while everything seemed to be crashing down around him.
And then her eyes opened. They were still the color of dark tea, and glazed over. But then she winced once more, and when he saw the lucidity enter them, Levi had to dig his nails into his own palm to stop himself from crushing her in his arms.
Immediately, she tried to sit up, but he was quicker and had his hands on her in a vice-like grip in the same instant.
"No." He commanded, voice surprisingly even. As if he hadn't been about to finally snap. "Sit still before you hurt yourself again."
Mikasa made a grunt of protest, but didn't seem to have much fight in her. Her head lolled toward his shoulder, and Levi almost smiled.
Having reached an unspoken compromise, they sat there in silence, Levi letting Mikasa rest in his arms while she warmed up again. Jackass of the century couldn't begin to cover the level of self-depreciation he felt towards himself for neglecting to actually make sure she wasn't going to die of cold, not to mention pressing onward with no regard to her physical state which was obviously worse than his, as he had not just carried himself through an entire fucking river, but...
"Wha'happened?"
Her voice was a murmur half-lost in his collar. Absently moving her bangs out of her eyes, he mused over how to best answer her.
"Well," he began, "I turned around, and you were falling to your death. So I caught you."
She didn't reply for a full minute.
"...Why?"
Levi had to strangle his anger down first, but his reply was harsh and instantaneous: "I'm not going to validate that with a response."
"You jus' did."
That one earned a smirk, mostly because he was relieved she was lucid enough to make wisecracks. Things turned quiet again. Levi thought she might've started dozing off, but she managed to sit up a little, and spoke up once more.
"We're not gonna make it, are we, sir."
The way she said it wasn't really sad. Tired, sure, but not sad. It was like she was simply bringing up the weather. It was an easy, apathetic little quip, and that truly made it all the more miserable.
Worse still, Levi knew she was probably, definitely right. The hollow ache that resonated in his chest was testament to this acceptance.
Levi does the only thing he can think of, which is taking her hand in his and squeezing it tightly, drawing his calloused thumb back and forth over her knuckles, tracing soft circles on the back of her hand.
"Sorry," she whispers after a moment.
"Don't be."
"I hate... I hate feeling so weak." Her smile was bitter and remorseful. "It's humiliating. And you're the last person I wanted to be weak in front of."
"I'd say I'm honored, but I'd be lying," Levi said. "I'd much rather be someone you were comfortable being weak in front of."
Mikasa takes a long, shaking breath, and screws her eyes shut. She's obviously trying very hard not to cry, and Levi looks away out of respect.
The conversation lapses.
Eventually, Mikasa composes herself, and forces him to let her sit up. She sways for a moment and her hand flies to her head, pressing to it delicately, but she steadies herself and carefully scoots out of his hold.
He'd rather she didn't. But he doesn't stop her.
Mikasa nestles herself against an upward-spurning offshoot, hugging her knees drawn to her chest. He knows, rationally, it's only a few small inches separating them, but it might as well be a hundred miles.
"So," she starts, solemnly, "What are soldiers supposed to do when they know they're about to die?"
"Glad to hear you starting off with easy questions. I can't say, really. I've never thought about it myself."
"Really?" She sounds genuinely surprised. "Haven't you thought about dying?"
"Of course I have. Just never thought about my last moments. Presumably I'd be torn in half or digesting in the stomach acid of one of those disgusting shiteaters."
"Appetizing," she says dryly, and he playfully scuffs her boot with his own in response.
"It doesn't hurt being the greatest soldier in the land," he continues half-seriously after a moment. "Pretend to be invincible long enough and it helps let it sink in. A long while back, when I was fresh meat, I sometimes found myself thinking as I went in to kill one — 'If anyone can do this, I can. I will.' And I did. And it helped."
"I understand."
He was going to roll his eyes, going to quip something like "No, you don't", but the urge died as he corrected himself. Yes, actually. She could understand.
It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling.
"To answer your original question, the rational ones yell for help." He keeps talking, not because he likes running his mouth, but that feeling is creeping into him at an alarming rate and turning into something he had been trying so desperately to get rid of. "A very rare few have some last words to pass on to their loved ones. Even less manage to shout out orders."
Mikasa sighs, and adds with dark humor, "And the ones who are stranded?"
There's a lump in his throat that wasn't there before.
There's safety in this darkness.
She's in the fetal position against this dumb tree, cradling her knees and resting her aching, tired eyes against them. Like this, she can only hear the night, and her heartbeat, and Levi.
Levi, who is surprisingly relaxed amidst all of this chaos. Mikasa can't tell if that's a sign of him having completely given up, or that he just has more true grit than she. But that thought leaves quickly, and she is reminded of her embarrassment, her weakness. Mikasa had dealt with many things — starvation, the grueling training, the death of not one, but two families, the constant strain of protecting herself and her loved ones, watching her comrades die in every way possible — but this one was the one that was breaking her. It was the duration, probably. The hopelessness. Most deaths were relatively quick, but this? This one was long, drawn out, the kind where time becomes meaningless. It gives you too much time to think about it. It eats away at you slowly.
She wasn't dying alone, though, and she couldn't tell if she was thankful for that or not, yet.
Levi shifted on the branch, and her throat tightened, expression stiffened. She did not want to watch this man die. It would, infinitely, be worse than any of the others.
"The ones who are stranded," he began slowly, objectively. "Hmm."
She hears him sigh — he doesn't do that often, she thinks — followed by the grating of his boots against the bark as he keeps going. "I've heard stories of some singing, and some who write in journals. Suicide is a well-explored option."
"Has anyone else ever made it home?" She can't help but ask. Deep within her, she is desperate for him to say yes, but she's distracted when she sees his form shift in the darkness, rising to his full height. Her heart misses a beat. What is he doing?
"Not that I know of," he says, and adds, "and they were stupid for trying."
He takes a small step towards her, and she feels small. Are they leaving? All of her aches at the dread of moving on, especially after what's been said, and Mikasa thinks she feels something prickling at her eyes. But then Levi is speaking again. She barely catches him mumbling, almost indecipherable, but makes out "...others have done stupider things..." and suddenly he is surrounding her.
She doesn't want to die without telling him — telling him, whatever it was, that titanic and devouring thrum that he made hunger in her, or how she felt, whatever that really was. A thousand words enter her mouth, poised to spill everything, but they never make it out.
He's inches from her face, just like before. She can feel his breath as he exhales shakily.
Levi's voice is a rough whisper.
"This is going to happen once, and only once. Don't talk."
His breath is gone and replaced with his lips crushing against hers.
Her eyes go wide as she tries to process all of the sudden sensory input at once. His mouth is powerful and just slightly warmer than her hers, and she's kissing him back before she thinks anything coherent. Nervousness mingles and loses itself in the drowning sensation of him kissing her, and she shuts her eyes, savouring the contact. His head tilts a fraction to the left, his nose brushing her cheek and his messy bangs shrouding her own, and he breathes out slowly through his nose, and every single thing sends electricity down her skin.
And she wants more.
Nerves flutter again, unsure of how to go about it, but she timidly presses closer to him, lowering her knees so that she can lean up into him. She doesn't want him to stop. She peeks out of one eye, and tenses as he sees his own open to look at her. He stiffens. His mouth feels hotter, now, and his lips have drifted very slightly over hers like he's going to draw back. Every fiber of her being resists that idea in a single, faint, knee-jerk whine that comes from the back of her throat.
That was all it took.
He gasps against her mouth like he hasn't been breathing, and drops to his knees so fast the branch they're on trembles. Restraint is all but abandoned — their mouths find each other again with the help of his urgent hands that cradle her face tightly. What she thought had been pleasurable before paled in comparison to how he kissed her now. It was like the world had turned on its side. Her hands finally found his chest and she grasped at his shirt to keep herself upright.
He smothered her mouth with his own over and over, searing it each time, and her head is still spinning as she hazily parts her lips. Levi accepts the invitation without thinking, sucking the bottom one into his mouth as his right hand drags down her neck, thumb caressing her throat like he did before. She makes another sound when he bites, very gently, and it is followed with a sudden surge of molten warmth that shoots straight down and settles in her core. Her thighs shift uncomfortably with the feeling, but they're held still when one of his hands slide down to her hips and stills her.
He bites her lip harder. She's shaking, now, and clawing her way closer to him, as he is to her. There's something more, she's sure of it, she just needs to find it, and she frustratedly goes to bite his lip and she catches the taste of it, but in the time it takes her to blink, he's broken away, chest heaving and dark eyes swimming wildly with fervor.
Her own thoughts are cloudy and vague, and it feels like all of her nerves are submerged in blissful heat. She scarcely realizes that she's panting, too, and that she is practically on top of her Corporal. But Levi's slack-jawed face is only a second's time away from hers, and her racing heart quickens.
He must have seen her intention. His hands, his scorching, calloused hands that traveled all over her but barely touching, were suddenly at her collarbone and jawline, cementing her in place.
Mikasa frowned in protest, and licked her lips, and his gaze flickered to them dangerously. He frowns back, but his is a warning — a very weak-willed warning, but a warning regardless: Don't.
Her brow furrows, and cheeks pinch in complaint. Why?
Levi responds with a long, wavering exhale, and he licks his own bottom lip and bites it as she sees his jaw flex and set. His stare was nothing like she'd seen. The swirling, yearning desire smoldered in his eyes, and the light turned them an odd shade that she couldn't even put a name to.
Mikasa slumps slightly, and he lets her. But he doesn't move away, and doesn't let her go, but that's fine because she knows she might fall again if he did. It's with a touch of a smirk that she knows that he knows it, too.
It's with a peculiar start that Mikasa realizes that they have been speaking without saying a single word.
What had happened? Over-sensitized and much more awake, Mikasa searches Levi's face that's only just begun to stubble in the corners. Did he realize it, too? What changed?
With his brow creasing, he tilts his head at her in questioning.
Her heart can't seem to keep a steady beat, and her mind whirrs with confusion. A conclusion comes to her, just barely — that thread she had felt before was stronger. And his walls — her walls — they were gone. Down. But they weren't. Somewhere along the line, it was like they had gotten mixed up somewhere, and now they were closed in together.
Levi is growing concerned now, at her evident conflict, and when he finally opens his mouth to speak, he is silenced by Mikasa's cry.
It hits her all at once and she blurts it out in a panic in the same millisecond. She could see his stubble. The light turned his eyes an odd shade...
"The sun's coming up!"
