11.

When morning came and the sun rose, the boy did not wake. Levi had pushed the twin bed against the battered wall and set Eren carefully on the inner side so he wouldn't roll off during the night. He had lain prudently on the other side so as not to wake him; yet the boy had slept through the night with only quiet cries for his friend.

As the morning sunlight found its way through the cracked window, Levi had tried to wake Eren, but he shoved him a bit too hard, and the boy's head collided with the wall with a soft thud. The man frowned in concern, but still, Eren slept on. Levi's slanted eyes fixated on the sleeping child's slightly flushed appearance. There were sweat beads on his face, and his cheeks were reddish. His breathing was quick and shallow, and abnormally hot.

Levi touched the boy's forehead with the back of his hand – it was extremely warm. Eren was burning a fever. The boy wasn't sleeping at all; he was unconscious.

Of course.

Eren had been beaten, kidnapped, and starved in the same day. The stupid kid had also disobeyed specific orders and witnessed the death of his friend. Then he had been given a cold bath in the middle of the night. Of course he'd be sick.

Levi felt a little annoyed at himself for lacking the common sense on caring for a kid. But he was more agitated at how weak Eren was. Sighing, he turned to leave for his first day on duty. He refused to abandon his orders just to look after a sick child. There wasn't much he could do anyway; he wasn't a doctor.

A day on the training grounds was banal and seemed to drag on forever. Normally, the regulations soothed him, but today they just made everything duller than it already was. He was already fed up with the novices and their idiotic attempts at managing the gears. From his perspective, these newbies were a long way from becoming soldiers. Second Lieutenant Chevell Babineaux stayed a great length away from him, and there were no whispers about his "nephew". But he could have been the most virtuous man alive and still not escape the wraths of calumny. As soon as he stepped into view, quite a few brassy trainees judged him aloud in clutters.

"Awfully short, isn't he, for a man claiming to be humanity's strongest?"

"He doesn't even have a cape."

"His hand is hurt too, look! It's bandaged and everything."

"I heard he bought his way to the top."

Their judgmental tones did not bother Levi the slightest. He rarely cared about others' opinions on him. They were mere rackets to his ears. Only one of the recruits stood out to him because she looked nothing like a cadet. Her flaming red hair was too carefully styled, and she was far too thin to handle the heavy blades. She was also scrutinizing him from afar bitterly, holding off on her comments.

When training finally ended, Levi found himself looking forward to the wooden shack that harbored the boy. Subconsciously, he walked quicker and quicker, until he was on the verge of running. But when he unlocked the door, he found Eren in the same position he left him, still unconscious.

Clenching his jaw, Levi wiped the Eren's face with a warm towel as carefully as he could manage. Eren was sweating profusely, but his small body was in shivers, even under the blankets. Levi tried to force down some water through those dry, chapped lips, but the boy refused to open his mouth unless to mutter Armin's name.

Levi slept very little that night, and woke every few hours to check the boy's temperature. But day came again and Eren's condition did not ameliorate. By now, Levi's frown had deepened so much that it seemed sculpted on his face. He tucked the corners of the blankets around Eren cautiously before leaving for duty again.

The next day was the same. It was as if the ignition of hope inside the boy had suddenly burnt out, and he chose to leave this heartless world behind. Silent tears slid out from the corner of his tightly shut eyes and moistened the pillow beneath. As Levi wiped them away with a calloused finger, Eren uttered a small whisper.

Levi leaned in to hear clearer. The boy was calling Armin's name softly with a cracked voice.

"…Armin…where…" Eren slurred faintly. "…where are…?"

Levi stared at the pitiful boy, his expression indecipherable.

"…where…"

The man's eyes lowered, and his lashes obscured the concern suppressed deep within. He remained silent for a while before finally responding the sad calls of the comatose boy.

"…In the skies." He said quietly as his long, scarred fingers soothingly pushed away a few locks of brown hair from the boy's forehead.

Eren's young face scrunched up for a second upon the words. "…A star?" He breathed out.

"Yes." The man answered.

Eren's features relaxed, and he drifted deeper into sleep. Levi waited for some time before realizing he had no sign of waking up. The boy was completely unaware. It was going to be another restless night for the man.

The days became gradually more difficult. Levi had not slept well since the first day on the road with the boy. And Eren's current condition only brought more apprehension. If his fever doesn't subside, Levi would have to take him to the infirmary, and all infirmaries were under direct control from the authority. One look at the boy, and the medics would be hastening to report the appearance of a titan-shifter.

The boy seemed to have given up. He laid there under the tattered blankets, so small that he may disappear into the darkness that was overcoming him. The light within those emerald green eyes could no longer shine away the stifling shadows. Countless shades of glooms overwhelmed him, swallowing his once golden spirits. But the boy made no attempt to fight them off.

It was not a battle Levi could win for him.

Levi had been a straightforward man. Problems found him, and he solved them one by one. Some were more tedious than others, and took him longer, but he had never failed. Yet this time he was absolutely helpless. He could not chase away disease or sickness. He could not ease the painful grief in the boy's heart. He could not manipulate death and bring a titan casualty back to life.

He was unable.

He was powerless.

…

…

…

"Wait! Wait for me!"

"Hurry up then!" A warm, childish laughter.

"I'm trying…!"

He tried to run, but his legs were like rubber. He held out a small hand to grab onto the shadow floating in front of him, but touched only air.

"Quickly!" Said the familiar voice of his best friend, who had started to fly towards the sky, further and further away from him.

Panic took over, and he tried to follow, but he had no wings. "Wait!" He called.

Armin giggled and rose up higher and higher until he disappeared into the fluffy clouds.

"Wait…"

…

"Wait…" Eren murmured.

The long lashes fluttered for a while before opening, revealing iridescent green eyes. The boy sat up languidly, taking in his surroundings. His head felt heavy, and his throat was burning. Carefully, he climbed out of bed, swaying slightly from lightheadedness. He felt woozy, and a bit scared. Primitively, his widened eyes darted across the unfamiliar room in search for the man. He had feared Levi, admired him, and then hated him with a burning passion. But now the poor boy was just confused. He resented Levi, yet Levi was the only thing he had left, and he couldn't lose him. Not when his entire world was shattering into pieces.

And the man…

The man was sitting by his bed, his head bowed and a wooden bowl in his large hands. The glum candlelight danced and flickered, fabricating dark shadows on the man's face. He seemed to be asleep, but the position he held himself in looked like a soldier on a night's watch.

"…Levi?" The boy asked tentatively, his voice almost inaudible.

The hunched man made no movements.

Eren gulped and tiptoed closer to the immobile mountain of death. "…L-Levi?"

Sluggishly, the man stirred. When he raised his head, Eren took a small step back. Never had he seen the man so tired and so beaten. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hasn't slept in months. There was the slightest stubble on his usual impeccably clean face, and he looked older; a lot older than Eren had remembered.

"…You're awake." Levi stated unfeelingly. The boy couldn't have understood what was veiled behind the unemotional tone the man carried. The weight of those two simple words had been immeasurable; yet the exhaustion on the man's otherwise handsome face had said it all.

"Uh-huh." Eren nodded. He was so anxious to share his dream that he got over being upset with the man temporality, "I had a long dream and I saw Armin. He's not gone at all; he's in the sky now. A star, like my mom."

"… …"

"…Can you take me to see him?" The boy asked delicately, looking up through thick lashes hopefully, all the while afraid of hearing the answer.

Levi merely handed over the wooden bowl where a clump of cold porridge laid. It seemed as though he had been holding it for a long time. "Here, eat this."

Eren turned away from the bowl. He was dizzy and a bit nauseous, and did not want to eat anything. "I'm not hungry."

Levi was gripping the bowl so tightly that the veins on the back of his hand were starting to stand out. His lips thinned considerably, and he had to fight the urge not to chug the damn food down the kid's throat.

"Eat." He said murderously, forcing the bowl into Eren's hands.

Eren gave a small shiver and sneaked a fearful look at him. Hesitantly, he picked up the spoon. He felt wronged and hurt. He didn't want to eat, and he didn't know why the man would force him to. His lower lip trembled sadly, and he looked ready to burst into tears at any second.

Levi watched the poor kid for a while before heaving a low sigh and giving in. "Eat, and I'll take you to see him."

"Really?" Eren gushed at once, his eyes shining. "You promise?"

The gray eyes met the green, and searched them carefully, as if looking for something. When he finally saw the glimmer within, his shoulders relaxed with relief.

Hope, it was the lone force stronger than any other. And what the boy held behind those green eyes was so breathtakingly beautiful it must have come from another world, where only goodness soared. Levi looked away, as the gaze from the angelic child was threatening to capture him in a fortress of enchanting blessedness. He had been dauntless, even at the confrontation of Death himself. But he was afraid for once, because if he allowed himself to fall, he feared that he would never stop falling.

"…Yes."

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Sorry about the late update; had carpal tunnel and couldn't type. T T

Thanks for reading!