A/N: So, just a couple of things I realized that may be confusing some of you guys. Levi is Captain, Armin is Lance Corporal. There is a HUGE difference in rank—Lance Corporal being one of the lowest ranks, just above senior cadet/private. Corporal follows the rank and at that point, it is awarded based on level of experience and teamwork capabilities. So, the Assassination attempt was not for Levi. It was for Armin. The government is pretty stupid but not that stupid it would try to kill of Humanity's Strongest.
Also, Poltrabend (or Polterabend) is a German party customarily done before a wedding, at times done the night before the wedding itself, but some people have set up their Polterabends as late as a week prior to a wedding. I use this because the world of SnK is based in a Germanic setting so I am upholding those customs. You'll also notice that I've used a lot of German titles and terms for the flowers, and the occasional mention of some other custom. I know there must be some other things that I may be missing—if so, don't hesitate to ask.
I also, must apologize for breaking out of routine. Life is a fickle mistress and she's been throwing me countless things at me. This is one of those moments where I can sit and write in peace. In any case, I can't promise usual updates for the time being. However, this story will go on. So, don't be worried. Now!
Disclaimer: Could you just… like… not?
This Chapter's inspired tracks are: Sudden Throw, A Stutter, Brim, and We (Too) Shall Rest by Olafur Arnalds, from the For Now I am Winter album. As well as Something Has Changed by Peter Broderick (all these tracks can be found on Spotify in high quality—if you don't have an account, really consider it since the majority of the songs used for tracks can be found there and they're hard to locate anywhere else.
Nimbus
-: XI :-
Burden
"So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
The amount of time it took for silence to fully plant itself within the castle was a total of nearly ten hours since the attack. Six, of which, were spent in attempting to bring some form of control over the raging chaos—too many people screaming and wailing, too many bodies to clean up… too much shock to try to reign over—the other two were swallowed by the sound of 3DMG and gas exploding from canisters while those who were still uninjured and capable assembled to place large tarps over the large hole that now replaced the western wall of the Dining Hall. Rubble and debris was still being taken out, still shoved and moved as the death count rose.
While it was noisy, conversation was scarce and usually dominated by the attempts to make sense of the madness, the injustice of it all. Orders were given, orders were followed. In these moments of sadness, what remained of emotion had been forced into silence to make way for the machine mindset of the military. Some would remark this to be cruel—even inhuman—but when it comes down to it…
It's how they all survived the greatest test of their existence. No one could be blamed for following what survival left imprinted.
Some died.
Some lived.
That's how life is.
These were the thoughts that plagued the brown haired Deputy Lieutenant from Hanji's Squad. With slow, simmering frustration, Moblit dragged a palm over his face. His fingers bumped against the gauze that surrounded most of his forehead, eliciting a faint jab of pulsing pain that dug into his already pounding head. Expelling air through chapped lips, the officer waited by the door of the operating room. Waiting for news of any kind concerning the welfare of his leader.
Stifling a yawn, Moblit rubbed his jaw, feeling the coarse skin with a grip that was harder than necessary. He had been waiting for hours now. At some point, someone had brought him a slice of cake. The cadet that had offered him the sweet food looked sullen and unable to speak aside from incoherent mumblings, Moblit didn't have the heart in him to turn him away. Even now, his eyes fell to the plate of pastry sitting on his chair where the boy had left it. He had been unable to approach it, and so, left it there to attract no one.
Why?
His head gave a sudden twitch to the left, eyes squeezing shut at the invasive thought. Two fingers pressed against the bridge of his nose, a vain attempt to quell the mounting stress that had already conquered his stomach and appetite. He didn't need it driving him mad. He wouldn't allow it.
So with a sharp inhale of air, the brown haired man pushed himself away from the wall to pace in front of the door. Shaking trembling hands with hard flicks of his wrists, Moblit tugged the limbs in his pockets—out of sight, out of mind—and settled on counting the sound of his boots striking the stone floor. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—turn—nine, ten, eleven, twelve…
She had been wounded. He saw how her body had careened through the air, spinning nearly out of control after the Female Titan had all but thrown her with unparalleled force. The second he saw Hanji's body shoot into the air, he felt his very insides grow ice cold. The fright that filled him nearly left him frozen to the inches of dirt next to the Rogue's steaming head, but it was the heat of Eren's limp body that allowed his body enough consciousness to move. With frantic hurry, Moblit had yanked the rest of Eren's figure from the strands of cord and muscle fibers from the decaying body of his titan, before laying him down on the ground and taking off toward Hanji's form.
He shouted several times, not sure what his words could've done, and watched as she used her gear in neck-snapping movements to avoid slamming into the earth. His relief for her safety nearly slowed him down, but it nearly collapsed when he saw her body strike the earth, sliding and skidding against stone and dirt with sickening thuds. Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four…
"Major Hanji!" Several soldiers joined him in the sprint toward their fallen leader, many shouting orders to bring a stretcher from what remained of their caravan. By the time they had reached her, she was already out cold. Moblit nearly felt his heart give when he saw the blood running from her belly, dribbling through her fingers and blooming over her clothes.
She had been wounded, and by the state of it… it was serious.
Thirty five, thirty six, thirty seven…
The caravan, knowing they were not facing a battle against time, didn't waste time picking up what dead they could get—Moblit made it clear to all of them that they would have time later to return to gather those who did not survive the Female Titan's attack.
He had been sorely mistaken.
When they arrived to the castle it was to chaos and the destruction of a good portion of their headquarters. The horror and anger that filtered through the men was palpable, yet no one said a word aside from relaying messages and hurrying to assist in damage control. Those with Moblit helped bring in both Eren and Hanji, keeping much to themselves when questions rose and despair mounted at the news of more dead. Dutiful, Moblit ordered for Eren to be placed within Hanji's study to sleep off the fever, placing one other scientist and officer to watch over him in case anything happened out of the ordinary. Bloody tears wiped from his face, Eren was soon taken away, followed shortly by one of his comrades.
Forty four, forty five, forty six…
Moblit wasn't too worried over Eren. He had seen that boy endure impossible things and come out alive and well, so he busied himself with following the rest of the medical officers as they carted Hanji off to an available room where they would be able to tend to her wounds. There, the doctors and nurses immediately removed the blood soaked clothing from her pale skin, before ordering Moblit to wait outside.
"What do you mean, wait outside?!" Moblit had shouted, nearly shoving the hands of a nearby soldier off him. "I can assist!"
"We have more than enough people here at the moment, Deputy." The blue eyed lieutenant, Alfons, said with a stern expression. "You'll only take up valuable space."
The door slammed in his face just moments later, leaving Moblit to stand at its front with a terrible emptiness in his stomach and a clenching in his hands.
Too much had been lost in just the past few hours… too much.
Fifty eight, fifty nine…
The echoes of leather on stone bounced against the walls surrounding him. Faint light poured through the small window that granted him a sliver of sight outside. It was just past dusk. The last of the twilight was stretching vain fingers over the rolling black of the night—Moblit was not sure whether it was respite or if it was the onslaught of fresh nightmares, so he could do nothing, but stand in silence as he watched the fading light sigh into the shadows.
He didn't know how long he just stood, letting his mind blank out from all the rage that threatened to consume him. He had no idea what would come next, if Hanji would be survive, how much would change after this attack… all that seemed to matter was the way the stone beneath his feet went from its usual gray pallor to cyan hues reflected from the cooling light outside.
Slowly, amber tones bounced against the stone—the exposure of fire to torches being lit—and Moblit inhaled a shuddering breath. Feeling nothing, he turned toward the chair on the opposite wall, eyes landing on the slice of cake waiting for him. It sat there, icing and crumbs, innocent and uncaring. It was a shame to not eat it. So many hands went into its preparation, so much effort went into its result.
He tried to find it in him to care.
It must have been another eternity of staring before he heard the door shift behind him. Whirling, he felt his heart jump to his throat when he saw the face of Lt. Alfons, the older man appearing grave and sporting a perplexed frown.
"Is she alright?" the question was met with a curious glance before the man's blue eyes fell to the ground again.
"She's stable." The breath that escaped Moblit was enough to loosen his knees and he almost fell. Alfons made a quick move to assist, hands reaching for him before Moblit stopped him with a raised hand and a short shake of his head. Straightening the officer let the relief of this revelation course clarity through his veins, but kept his eyes on the doctor.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Moblit sighed. In response, blue eyes crinkled with an uncertain expression that made the last of his relief hesitate from lifting him higher. "What is it…?"
"Deputy…" the man began, lifting a hand to run fingers through strawberry blonde hair, with a hard sigh he bit his lips. "I'm not sure how to tell you this."
The worry began to rise in his stomach again, forcing Moblit to take a step closer. "What is it, Eric. Is she not waking up? Are her wounds fatal?"
Alfons shook his head, "No, not at all. The Major will survive her wounds, she will be alright… however…we discovered something," He trailed off, looking into Moblit's eyes curiously before setting his jaw.
"Eric, if this is a matter of urgency, just tell me," Moblit grunted, feeling irritated at the man's lack of straightforwardness. "If not, let me go in to see her."
"Moblit," Blue eyes tightened into a sharp expression. The sound of his name alone made him take pause, and the following words proceeded to knock every ounce of air out of his lungs.
"She's pregnant."
Steel gray eyes remained fixed on the slim figure of the raven haired beauty sleeping on the meager infirmary cot. Several minutes of tense silence between them served as nothing better than added pressure to the stress of her mind, and despite how Mikasa had struggled to keep herself awake after her sight showed signs of returning, it was not long before her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. Refusing to do any more than stay, Levi stayed sitting on the chair by her bed, watching the exhausted woman sleep her worries into dark recesses and shadowed corners only she knew the routes to.
He had wanted nothing more than to stay by her side, to watch her as she slept and enjoy the only peace that came with her company, but in the end there were far too many voices crying for his leadership. He could do nothing else but comply when he had been approached by Keiji, just an hour after Mikasa drifted.
"Captain," Keiji had begun after a short moment of silent appraisal, eyes falling toward Mikasa's sleeping figure before turning his narrow gaze over to the short man. "Squad Leader Brzenska is calling for you."
"Tell her I'm busy."
Keiji didn't seem even remotely surprised by the retort, and this, Levi could credit to their many years of acquaintanceship. Instead, the Lieutenant remained standing by the open door, the discord of the wailing and injured serving the reminders of Levi's duty without help from his part. Sure enough, Levi let out a slow sigh before pushing himself up to his feet, following the tall man out without another word or glance to his sleeping lover.
They marched in relative silence, only surrounded by the clatter of boots striking stone in rhythmic couplets, making the chorus of despair seem ever more present to their psyches. It was not a comfortable walk and it brought a sense of sobriety that Levi was in no way enjoying, nevertheless, he knew better than to voice such distaste, considering the circumstances.
When they finally approached the hallway were the more stable of the wounded were housed, Keiji only pointed to a room, "She's in there with the Commander, but I was told he is sleeping."
"What do you know of his state?" it was almost funny. Not once had it occurred to Levi if Erwin had been injured or not during the attack. His mind was all too cruelly reminded of Armin's empty stare, downtrodden and broken by the loss of his beloved. Levi had been able to take the young man to an empty room—not caring to whom it belonged—and left him to rest on a cot. After checking him for signs of other injuries or concussion (he did hit him rather hard in order to knock him out) Levi could only squeeze the sleeping man's arm before leaving, leaving a silent promise for retribution. Very few people could empathize with the blonde Lance Corporal. Levi was one of them.
Lifting a bruised hand, Levi rapped the door quickly before letting his hand fall to the doorknob. There was a ruffling on the other side of the door, before Levi could think much of it he pushed the door open, narrow gray eyes landing on a spectacle he hadn't expected.
On the bed and glancing up at him, upside down and on her back, was the Squad Leader who had requested his presence. Above her, and balancing his weight on his elbows, lay Commander Erwin, blue and silver eyes looked at him with something akin to shock.
The door shut behind him with a soft hiss and click, leaving them in a startled silence that was broken when Levi's eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "I hope I didn't interrupt something."
"You didn't, Levi…" Erwin began glancing back down at Rico's flushing face, grimacing. Starting to get how it looks like, huh, Erwin? With a short grunt, the woman quickly pushed the Commander back on the bed before scrambling away from the sheets, refusing to make eye contact with either of them.
"I was merely assisting the Commander to get on his feet…" She admitted, voice ever-so casual despite the way her hair stuck out in awkward angles. "He had wanted to try to stand."
"I over calculated the force," Erwin continued, coughing shortly. "I fell on top of the Squad Leader."
"I don't really give a shit what happened." Levi replied with a half shrug, looking astoundingly bored, yet the dangerous gleam in his eyes never faded. "I was called. What do you want?"
Rico nodded before straightening her jacket, "Captain Levi, while it was not intended for you to walk into such a misunderstood scene as this one—"
"Get on with it," Levi drawled.
"—it does segue into the topic that needs discussion." She explained, lifting a hand to adjust her glasses over the bridge of her nose. With a short sigh, the silver haired woman looked over to Erwin, the blonde man being unusually silent and subservient beneath the weight of her words. With a curt nod from the Commander, Rico turned a sharp stare into Levi's waiting expression.
"Captain. Commander Erwin has no motor control below his waist."
Levi's eyes crinkled into a calculative look of appraisal, turning his attention from Rico to look at his commanding officer. The words struck him with the force of a jackhammer, but he would be loathe to show it openly. "Clarify," He stated, requesting for more information, his eyes never leaving Erwin in hope the man himself would offer an explanation.
"He cannot move or feel his legs." Rico supplied, gaze falling to the ground with something akin to dark acceptance.
"That is not what I meant," Levi snapped, bristling when Erwin refused to look at him directly. "How did this happen?"
"During the attack—" Rico had begun, but was quickly silenced by a black glare thrown from the short raven haired man. When those narrow gray eyes turned back toward the Commander, they were focused and keen, like the blade of a sword rising to a steady stance.
"Erwin." Levi spoke, not caring about Rico's shift of discomfort at the lack of title added to the man's name. "What the hell happened?"
Slowly, Erwin lifted his hands to the handrails of his cot, pushing at them with his arms to force his body into a more comfortable sitting position. Levi did not miss the way his muscles shook, or the look of exertion over Erwin's face, struggling with added dead weight that had not been a problem before. This was not a joke. "During the attack," Erwin breathed out, finally finding a place to settle. "A large boulder had fallen upon both me and Mikasa, you know this."
"I was given a short briefing," Levi admitted. The Aryan nodded, still keeping his blue gaze on anywhere except Levi's rigid stance.
"Something… I'm still not sure what as they hadn't been able to operate on me yet… One of the Lieutenants of the medical wing had explained to me that something had stabbed its way into my spine…" He trailed off leaning back slowly, hissing when shocks of pain rippled through his body. Rico gave a start toward him, but remained in her place. This did not go unnoticed by the third member in the room. "It could be a shard of glass… or rock, or wood… whatever it is. Until it's properly removed from my back…"
"And you thought if you got up, you would magically be able to start walking around, right?" Levi grunted, not bothering to stop the vitriol from spitting through his teeth. "Did you hit your fucking head as well, or has this new level of stress turned you brain dead fucking stupid, Erwin?"
"Captain," Rico exclaimed, affronted by this clear sign of insubordination. Erwin lifted a hand, shaking his head. The silver haired Garrison soldier stepped down, scowling openly.
"I've been in the cot for several hours, Levi." Erwin explained softly, blue eyes sliding close, "Was it truly stupid to want to move around a bit?"
"Yes, it really was," the Captain retorted, using his best patronizing tone he could muster. Rico's scowl burned darker, but melted somewhat at Erwin's chuckle.
"Yes…" the Commander sighed after a moment, turning his chin to finally look at Levi for the second time since he had arrived, although the expression in his eyes seemed to ignite a kind of anger in the short man's blood that he had not felt in a while. Tension bloomed between the two men, evidence given by the way Levi's fists tightened into fierce balls and Erwin's glance away.
"How is Mikasa, by the way?" Erwin muttered after a particularly thick moment of silence.
"She's fine." Levi bit out, using the reminder of his beloved's well being to hold him back from ripping into the taller male with his bare hands. It wasn't often that Levi felt himself desire to beat some sense into Erwin's thick head, but when those moments arrived they arrived with unprecedented force.
A knock at the door put pause to the black contempt brewing in Levi's chest, and before he could make the choice to rip the door open and march out, Erwin was already calling out the invitation to enter their tense little space. As demanded, all three members of the small room glanced up, eyes widening in varying intensities when they saw the firm set of a familiar jaw.
Moblit looked over the room in a split moment, appraising them all with a flat expression. "Commander," He spoke and Levi could already sense the news that would be coming. "I have distressing news."
"Moblit," Erwin greeted in a professional tone, but a quick glance told Levi he was experiencing a new kind of anxiety. "When did your team return? What of Hanji?"
Moblit's eyes hardened, and he stepped further within the room. Without so much as a warning, the man launched into his report, "We encountered the Female Titan several cliques outside the castle at estimated 1300 hours. We sustained heavy damages and some casualties from the attack."
Stomach falling to his feet, Levi faced the tall brunet man with undivided attention, "What of Eren?"
"Prior to the attack, he had been enduring several injuries and bodily weaknesses that refused to heal. At a strategic rest stop, he collapsed from his horse and proceeded to fall into a fit before transforming into the Rogue Titan. Not long after that, he began to head in the direction of the castle before engaging into battle with the Female Titan."
"Hold on," Rico spoke up, silver eyes wide behind the rims of her spectacles, "He engaged her without command? I had been told he was no longer subject to animalistic instinct in his most recent transformations."
"The Titan that became of Eren was not one we had controlled," Moblit enlightened. "My suspicions, and I am sure the… Major would concur, are that given this being his first transformation since the Final Conflict his body must have 'restarted' to previous settings. I also suspect that his coma was also cause of the incalculable stress of having retained Titan form during the time of said Conflict."
"You said they engaged in combat," Levi pointed out, narrow eyes gleaming from the weak light of the dying sunset. "What were the results?"
"It appeared that the Female Titan had been successful in defeating Eren, when we had arrived in for the assist, his Titan form was already dead or in the process of dying. We had had very little time to try to defeat her—Major Hanji insisted the main objective was to retrieve Eren before the Titan could try to apprehend him."
"Where is the Major now?" Erwin asked, voice maintaining a simple inflection, yet his hands betrayed him. Levi knew it the second he looked at him. At this, Moblit hesitated, looking away and glancing toward Rico. The silver haired woman frowned. In a split second, both Erwin and Levi exchanged a swift look before the Commander doubled over in a coughing fit.
"Commander!" Rico exclaimed, moving to him with obvious concern. "What's wrong, sir?"
"Get the Commander some water, Rico." Levi ordered, letting his arms fall down to his sides. "I'll make sure he doesn't keel over and die."
At the comment, the woman shot the short man an unamused glare before pushing away and exiting them room in search of water. When the door shut, Levi looked over to Moblit, "Did you take care of them?"
"She'll have to head to the kitchen to get the water," Moblit confirmed with a nod, turning a sharp eye over to Erwin's face. The Commander cleared his throat before settling back on the pillows behind him.
"Speak, Moblit." Erwin said, not bothering to hide his anxiety now. "Where is Hanji?"
"The Major was…" Moblit paused, unsure how to proceed before taking in a slow breath. "She was wounded in the battle, sir. We had to take her immediately to intensive care."
Erwin paled, lips pressing into a thin white line at the information, hands reaching toward the rails of his bed—no doubt to push himself off the cot and head over to the section of the medical wing. Levi only had to shoot him a hard stare and the blond man had to pry his hands away from the bars, letting loose a frustrated sigh. Moblit continued, "She sustained several bruises and even a fractured wrist. Worst of all was a cut from a hook that had sliced into her abdomen. Lucky for us, Lieutenant Alfons looked over her surgery."
"Well that explains why my surgery was rescheduled," Erwin mumbled, blue eyes narrowing. "And how is she now?"
"She is stable," the Deputy explained, sighing before his eyebrows furrowed over his nose, "But that is not the distressing news, sir."
"Then what is?" Levi asked, shifting his weight to fully turn his body toward the two men, glaring. "Spit it out."
"The Lieutenant made a discovery concerning the Major's state," Moblit continued, turning a sharp glare that was unusually hostile toward Commander Erwin. "Commander, Major Hanji is pregnant."
Blood ran cold, like streams of ice as the information sat and marinaded within unsuspecting minds. Air burst from lips in surprised exhales and eyes widened to exposed the dumbfoundedness numbing them their tongues. The two officers remained in a shocked silence, experiencing different velocities of registered processing, neither unable to speak for a while after Moblit's announcement.
Levi could feel the shock like a blow to his gut, sucker punched into a stupefied stare that nearly made his jaw drop. Of all things to possibly happen… this was not one of the ones Levi had ever dreamed to expect. Marry me, Hanji. Levi's own words resurfaced in a reminder of the simple fact they had accepted.
No. Hanji had responded, declining his attempt at black humor and found it lacking.
Why not?
She had sighed, crossing her arms through the poor reflection of glass. Because I'm barren, and we all know we'd made a bad couple anyway.
Says who?
Says the fact you're in love with Mikasa Ackerman.
She had said it herself. She had made the tests herself. How many times has he found her rubbing at an empty womb with a forlorn longing in her eyes? Levi hadn't bothered to count, recognizing the sight and attributing it to the heaviness that was their burden, their duty as soldiers. It was a sad part of life, and he knew it would be worse because of her desire to be with Erwin.
"I love him, Levi." The declaration had been unwarranted, and even completely irrelevant to the topic at the time. What the topic had been, Levi couldn't even remember. What he could remember, was the clear surprise that made him look at her with wide eyes, she had beamed up at him like she had told a marvelous joke, but her gaze was sincere and undeniably filled with the truth of her feelings.
"Please tell me you're joking." She had laughed at that before slapping him in the shoulder.
"Nope. Not in the slightest. I'm going to give that man the greatest looking babies, you'll see."
But the hope and joy died from her eyes after she had taken a particular maternity test she had thought was completely genius. This first time, she had looked at the information with a pensive frown, certain that something had gone wrong with the test before jumping with renewed vigor and prepared a next test. He had been there when she was still taking the stupid tests, each time the information came back negative… he had seen the way her hope was slowly giving to the reality of the information.
"There's got to be something wrong with the information." She had insisted, working back into the formulas that had been beaten to death by the power of her intellect. Time after time, the result came back negative. On that day, Levi had seen her collapse in Erwin's arms, and the single glance from their commander made him turn away and shut the door behind him, knowing that Erwin was the only one who could comfort her in this moment of despair.
"Moblit," Levi felt his teeth set firm as he gave the man a dark glower. "You better not be joking."
The soldier shook his head gravely, "I would never joke about this, Captain. The surgery was conclusive… She is pregnant."
"How long…?" Erwin's small voice hit them from the side. When Levi turned to look at him, he could not see joy in his eyes, but a profound emptiness. Fate is a cruel bitch.
"From what they're estimating," Moblit indulged, "About a month and a half."
Nodding dumbly, the Commander kept his gaze on his lap, fingers clenching to the sheets that covered his useless legs. "Month and a half…" He repeated softly to himself, tiny and clearly overwhelmed. "Who else knows of this?"
"Only a select few," Moblit expressed. "I made sure everyone who was made aware of this predicament remain silent of its seriousness. However, I do not know if the relationship between the Major and Commander is secure in secrecy…"
"Erwin," the man looked up at Levi's face, the Captain gave him a hardened stare, "Is it yours?"
The question seemed to take him aback, making those blue eyes widen a fraction bigger. With a hard bob of his Adam's apple, Erwin swallowed, trying to connect all the dots together. The pace he was going at was frustrating Levi, making the Captain take another step closer to the Aryan before grabbing him around the collar.
"Is it yours?" He ground out through gritted teeth, storm gray eyes drilling into stunned blue. After a moment, Erwin exhaled sharply before looking away, nodding.
"Yes," Erwin said finally. "There could be no one else."
"You are certain that it is yours? Hanji has had no other lover?" Levi asked again, gruff and livid. "Now think really fucking hard, Erwin. Because if the brat that's cooking in Hanji's womb does end up being yours, neither of us will be able to be sure she will stay safe."
Erwin scowled, "Levi…"
"Be careful what you say," the Captain hissed, "Now, is it yours?"
It seemed that finally, Levi's implication was fully processed within the shock expanse of Erwin's understanding. This was a situation that would complicate everything. If the government got notice that Erwin was the father of Hanji's child… it would be seen as nothing short of the highest form of insubordination, even treason. This sort of claim could ruin the safety and stability of the corp, Rico would probably be assigned elsewhere and Erwin immediately punished. And there was no worse way to punish Erwin for breeding a child without the government's consent. That child, and even Hanji, would probably disappear from Erwin's life for ever.
This clear implication was not lost on Moblit either.
"It's mine," the man said, shocking the two commanding officers to look at him. The Deputy Lieutenant gave them a curt nod, "I have not filled out my Survey yet. If the Major needs protection, I am more than willing to take the necessary spot to do so."
"But…" Erwin began, looking at a loss before Levi released him.
"How soon can you prepare the engagement documents?" Levi asked. Moblit gave the man a firm look.
"As soon as possible."
Levi bobbed his head in response, "Good. Get them ready. We'll need to make sure we have this situation under control before it escapes our knowledge. Erwin," The Commander looked back into Levi's steel gray eyes, silent. "This is temporary."
"Is it…?" Erwin muttered back, looking away. Another short silence filled between them as they awaited further confirmation from their commanding officer. The Aryan was like stone for the good space of a minute before giving them a slow nod. "Do it, Moblit."
"Good man," Levi added, and the Deputy Lieutenant was slamming a fist to his chest before turning and heading for the door. He paused just as he reached the threshold, hand half-raised toward the door knob.
"Commander, what of the Female Titan?" Moblit asked, voicing the very question that was kept in hiding within this latest predicament. Erwin's eyebrows knitted together once before smoothing over his forehead. With a flat stare, the Commander of the Survey Corp looked at the men before him and it was as if he was no longer the wretched man that had been sitting before them just seconds prior, but iron willed leader.
"We go after her." Erwin's voice was a strong boom, depicting the strongest of assurity. "This battle… this war that is brewing between us and the monarchy… whether or not it was planned, has now been giving a head-start, and it is thanks to Annie Leonhart's unprecedented introduction. We cannot allow any more pieces to end up in our enemy's hands. Levi," said man tilted his chin in acknowledgement. "You and what men are capable will man an expedition after her."
Erwin's eyes narrowed into vicious blades of ice, "I trust you carry the ability to subdue her."
"I carry more than that."
"Good. Do what you can to take her down, but Levi… You cannot kill her. Not yet. We need her alive." The short captain's face hardened with a dark edge, but he said nothing in protest. Erwin flexed his hands away from the crinkled sheets, pressing his fingers against the clothed skin of his legs. "How soon can you be prepared?"
"Immediately." Levi replied lowly. Erwin nodded once, dismissing them with a simple glance. Moblit gave them a final bow of respect before turning toward the door.
"My deepest condolences, Commander Erwin." Moblit said before throwing a last glance over his shoulder, "And… Congratulations."
The door released a soft squeak as it swung open and gave the tall man his exit. The sound of the door sliding shut was the longest and loudest hiss and click that either of the two war veterans had ever heard in their lives. When Levi looked back at Erwin, the man was reaching to grab the military jacket that lay on the chair to the other side of the bed. He watched in silence as the blonde haired man reached into a pocket, pulled out a silver chain with a green gem—the only memento of a past love Erwin allowed himself to keep—before reaching over to the nearest trash bin.
The necklace fell through the air, silver chain glistening before it disappeared within the confines of the waste basket. Not long after that, Erwin settled back into his bed in silence. Levi said nothing before leaving, knowing that the following despair wrenched cry that would escape from Erwin's soul was not for his ears, or for anyone's ears to witness.
As his feet took him down the halls, past the faces and the tears that fell from dirtied cheeks and blood drenched bandages, Captain Levi made it a key point to walk straight and proud, sporting his best and most intimidating stare as he moved down the halls. The bandages that covered his limbs, he bore like Medals of Honor, displaying his human weakness proudly for any human eye to see.
The suffering of these people… all the weeping and the angry… they were his kinsmen. He saw in their eyes the same anger and defiance that had once lived in the eyes of those who know covered miles of earth and graves. All the anger needed now… was a spark.
Eren was unconscious right now, tears of blood dripping from closed lids that few wondered if they would open again. The boy had so valiantly and selflessly placed the mantle of Humanity's Hope on his shoulders, saved them from sure extinction. But, Levi had to remind himself that in the end, Eren was still so very young, and Levi would be loathe to admit it… but he saw the titan shifter as family. So much in his zeal and desire to fight reminded him so shockingly of Isabel, whom had called him 'big bro' with warm affection and fierce admiration.
To this day, Levi wondered how he had ever lived to deserve such raw dedication from anyone with such pure intentions, and moral complicity to do whatever was necessary. His life and hands were not clean, and no matter how hard he scrubbed, the past would not give in to disinfectants.
But, while the past may carry the sins of his soul, Levi knew that his feet were paving the future that his loved ones deserved. It is in the now that he knew that he had to step up, yet again, and do what was called of him. Call it a skewed sense of justice, over protection, or simple idiocy, but Levi had made promises that shaped him into the man he is now.
I hope you're rolling in your grave, old geezer. Levi thought with clenched fists.
He had long been Humanity's Hope long before Jaeger had been—and it was the right time to take that mantle once more. Just until he is ready.
When his hands pushed the door to Mikasa's temporary room, he was met with the sight of her sitting up, feet pressed against the ground while she lifted heavy weights in her hands to make the impressive coils of her biceps curl. Gray eyes met gun metal blue and in the flash of practiced synchronization and the force of their soul's resonance, her eyes sparked with a familiar flash of determination.
"We're going after her?"
Levi nodded, hiding his smirk for as long as he could (secretly loving the sight of her in just a training bra and underwear while she pumped the 30 lbs weights with ease, a light blanket of sweat making her skin glisten in the hallway's torchlight) he lifted his hands to rest at his hips. "How soon can you be ready?"
"These wounds are nothing." She replied swiftly, pushing to her feet and taking several steps to deposit her weights back on the ground. The sight of the long bandage wrapped around her back made his hidden smile disappear completely. His eyes traced the diagonal strap with careful precision, noting how—despite her efforts to appear unaffected—the little breaths and grunts that escaped past her chapped lips were not only from the exercise. Suddenly, her body gave a wobble, one of her hands shooting up to brace against the wall. Levi nearly gave a start toward her until she shook her head.
"Are you alright?" He asked. Mikasa gave him a short nod.
"Fine… fine. Just got a bit dizzy, is all." After a long moment of silence, Mikasa continued in placing her weights in their respective places against the wall. Levi's lips pursed as she slowly stood up.
"I need you at one hundred percent, Mikasa." He said seriously, when she straightened she gave him a familiar flat expression. "Give me an estimate."
Honesty. It was what was promised. With a begrudging sigh, Mikasa looked away before stretching her limbs in testing pulls, "I'll need a full day."
"Done." Levi said, crossing the space to adjust the strap of her bra, the sensation of their skin sliding together was a delicious friction that immediately made her pupils expand. When he met her gaze, he could openly see her every emotion, something that he had always admired about her. Mikasa gave so much of herself, even unknowingly, that it made him wonder how he had managed to stay afloat in the tempest that was her essence.
Slowly, her hand met his, sliding over his forearm before hooking her fingers through the gaps of his hand. "You don't have to bear it alone." She muttered, bringing his hand toward her other hand, slender digits tracing the lines of his palm. Levi's lips quirked upwards at the corners, unsurprised by her sharp intuition.
"I've done it before." Mikasa's storm greys blinked up from his hand to meet his gaze directly—once upon a time her lack of intimidation had irked him… now—she shook her head once.
"When you had to bear the weight of your comrades alone. Not anymore."
His chin quirked up, looking at her from an angle, "You're so sure you can handle it."
"Second Strongest," She replied with a small smile, the glint of her teeth and curve of her lips looked so inviting now and Levi had to restrain himself from sealing his lips over hers and making her gasp in ways that had nothing to do with pain.
"No," He corrected, leaning to press a hand to the back of her neck and bring her forward so that their foreheads would touch. "You've always been the strongest." His words clearly moved her, making her fingers clench over his and her nose to close distance and rest beside his, their lips just hovering over each other.
"We're together in this," She said after a moment of just breathing each other in. This war… This war, Levi. It must come.
"You told me once that we could not afford another war, Erwin." Erwin's eyes crinkled as they beheld the chain that lay upon the desk Hanji had abandoned it to.
"I'm afraid that we cannot afford avoiding this one."
Be ready.
"Mikasa," Levi voiced her name and the wind of her eyes was pulling away to behold him patiently. "When the time comes, you must obey my command."
Slender eyebrows furrowed at the request, "I always have."
"Those times were different, things are changing." He said, sliding his hand on her nape to cradle her jaw. "I hope that your loyalty won't."
"Never." She said, but he could still see the uncertainty within the black of her windows, saw it clearly was her eyes jumped from one of his to the other, as if searching. With a nod, he began to tilt his chin, intent with denying her access to his lips any longer. Their mouths only just brushed each other until a knock began at the door, soft and almost inaudible. Pulling away, Mikasa gave him a soft smile to his irritated glance.
"Who is it?" She called and the wooden slab slid open to reveal one of the lieutenants, a tall and frail looking redhead with dull blue eyes, from the medical wing. Upon seeing their proximity, his cheeks burned with a sheepish glow that turned into a horrified pallor upon facing the full weight of flat disdain within Levi's gaze.
"F-f-forgive me, Captain… uh, Senior Cadet Ackerman…" The Lieutenant sputtered, reaching to tug uncomfortably at the hem of his white jacket, one of his sleeves held the familiar blue and green strip that announced him as one of the nurses and care specialist. His blue eyes then seemed to register the extent of Mikasa's nudity, eyes taking in the sight of her bare legs and stomach with a stupefied gawk.
"Lieutenant," Levi said lowly, almost a growl, "I hope you didn't interrupt us just to gawk at the Cadet."
"Future Lieutenant," Mikasa added in an undertone and an amused quirk of her lips. The Lieutenant visibly jumped at the accusation, face burning a hot beet red before he began to scramble for words.
"N-n-n-no, C-Captain, of course not!" The redhead stammered, "I would never look at the cadet in that way—that's not to say she isn't admirable to the sight—I mean she's not bad—I MEAN—She's very good looking, but of course you already know that—I…"
"Digging yourself a deeper grave, kid." Levi grunted, holding back from rolling his eyes at Mikasa's half-hidden snort of mirth.
The young man coughed into a closed fist, fidgeting beneath Levi's growing feral gaze, before finally clearing his throat and pulling himself up straight (well, attempted is more like) and looking at them as respectfully as possible. "Captain, Senior Cadet, I have the results of the tests we took earlier."
"What tests?" Levi rose a brow. Mikasa stepped away from him, obviously not bothered in the slightest that she was barely clothed, before reaching to grab one of the folded gowns that had been brought to her earlier.
"We had to make sure that she was not suffering from any internal injury or bleeding, and considering the extent of her wounds," The red headed man replied, firmly keeping his eyes on Levi for fear of his own life. "We had to rule out all possible complications."
"Well, go on then," Levi said, jerking his chin flippantly at the kid, moving over to rest his weight on the nearest wall. "Get to it. Fire away."
The Lieutenant nodded, reaching into his coat before pulling out a slim file, opening it with a cautious glance toward Mikasa, of whom was tugging the her hair out from under the hem of the hospice gown that now hugged her body loosely. "Oi," Levi's voice snarled and the sneaky blue eyes slammed back over the words on the paper.
"Of course, apologies," The lieutenant mumbled before looking over the file, "Right. Well, from what we've gathered, you have sustained no serious injuries save the wound on your back, Cadet Ackerman. And it appears we've also crossed out concussions, as well… so that's… good."
Mikasa walked back around to sit on the cot, facing the tall man with an expressionless face, nearly mirroring the Captain's flat boredom. With an awkward clear of his throat, the Lieutenant proceeded, his eyes flickering over the sheet, nodding to himself and mumbling a few words in the positive. His other hand lifted at the page, looking at a page beneath with the same sort of focus he had been entertaining the resistance to look at the beautiful woman.
"Seems like everything is all good," The Lieutenant affirmed.
"I could've told you that." Mikasa said out loud, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. The redheaded man nodded with a small smile.
"The Head Doctor did say that the wound to your back, while large, was not deep enough to require stitches. So, so long as you maintain whatever exercise you usually do at a moderate range, you shan't experience any problems with it. One of the nurses will come down with a special salve that will aid with the healing, be sure to apply that at least two times a day for the next week. Uh… and Oh!" The Lieutenant exclaimed, his eyes widening large as he surveyed the last bit of information.
The two lovers exchanged a glance at his expression, Mikasa's mildly amused whilst Levi gave her a shrug. When he looked back at them his eyes held an excited twinkle. "Wow, I can't believe I'm saying this but… well one of the tests we took was a urine test, you know to check for any possible infections…"
"We get it, there were lots of tests." Levi sighed, actually rolling his eyes. This didn't deter the man from beaming up at them anyway.
"Right well, it appears that there was a positive!" He said with obvious enthusiasm. Mikasa scowled.
"A positive… for an infection?" She asked, "That doesn't sound like good news."
The Lieutenant grinned wider, as if holding in his hands a secret that could change everything. It was starting to grate on Levi's last nerves. "Out with it, Lieutenant." The redheaded man nodded vigorously before closing the file and tucking it back in his jacket.
"Captain Levi, Senior Cadet Ackerman, I must offer my happiest congratulations, this is surely a ray of sunlight on this dark occasion." At the word 'congratulations' Levi froze, instantly remembering Moblit's parting words and feeling his insides fall to the ground. The Lieutenant looked back at Mikasa, almost reverently. "The test is positive, Miss Ackerman. You're pregnant."
The sound of Mikasa's jaw unhinging was the only sound that followed the tense silence, before being shortly followed by the Lieutenant exclaiming a highly aggravating giggle, "Isn't this great?"
Yes. Levi thought dumbly, already knowing what was soon to come. Peachy.
Amber eyes watched the sleeping expression of a slender face, cleaned of all signs of dirt and blood that had previously made gruesome stains upon the porcelain cheeks. Jean Kirschstein had been unable to move from his spot since he had followed Lieutenant Cray and Alex to the intensive care section. Since they had shoved him out of the operating room, all Jean could do was stand and wait, worried that if he disappeared for a single moment… Historia would die.
By all logic and reason… she should be dead. She's probably dying anyway. The thoughts hit him like malicious hornet stings, sending their poison into his bloodstream and making the pain of their intrusion send rippling shocks of agony through his being. At this moment, his instincts begged him to run, enticed him with the thought of escaping for a short while just to gather his bearings. The thought of abandoning this girl now was ever more abhorrent, and as he stood in waiting, paced, and sat in hopes that what news that came from the good doctors would be simply that Historia lived, and her will allowed her to continue fighting on.
Yet, he couldn't help but look around, hoping that he would see Armin come to the rescue and offer hope and words of determination. Only, he hadn't seen the blonde man since the attack and hadn't seen him since. For all Jean knew, Armin was already dea—enough of that now. Shaking his head, the tall soldier turned away from the little view the small window offered him of Historia's state.
He had known Armin for nearly six years now, seen the kid turn from a sobbing wreck to a calm and collected figure of military prowess and intellect. With the passing years, he had witnessed the feminine looking boy grow and fit into the daunting boots of a leader, a true man. They survived the worst of conflicts—this simple attack would not kill him. Not now. No. Armin was strong. Armin will come.
The hours had passed and no sign of the blonde Lance Corporal came, making each intake and exhale of breath feel more and more difficult to experience without the sting of despair. Try as he might, Jean tried to keep it together, to make sure that he wouldn't shatter now. He was alone. He still didn't know if Sasha had been able to make it out alive, if Connie had been fast enough and managed to save her when he had been too busy running for Historia's life.
Sasha…
Oh god… Sasha, please forgive me. Jean ground his teeth tight, pressing the palm of his hand hard against the expanse of his forehead, wincing when his fingers skimmed the scrape he had being sporting stung at the touch. Feet aching, body exhausted from the day's events, Jean tried to ignore the seductive whispers of sleep, trying to focus on staying put for the sake of Historia. Armin may not be here right now, but Jean was, and he would be damned if he abandoned another teammate now just for a few hours of miserable sleep.
"Jean!" He heard and he nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he perked up toward the voice. Heading toward him with bright eyes, was his good friend and comrade.
"Connie!" Jean exclaimed, taking several steps toward the incoming soldier, sweeping and being swept into a sharp embrace of slapping hands and relieved sighs. "Good to see you alive and well!"
Connie took a step back, giving him a half smile and nod. "It'll take more than one Titan to kill me," the buzzcut said with a half chuckle. Jean slapped the man on the shoulder.
"Good man, Connie." The taller man praised, before turning a glance toward the door labeled with intensive care.
"No offense man," Connie said after a short moment of silence. "But you look like shit."
"I think we all reserve the right to look like shit," Jean retorted, yet didn't feel his usual umph in the comeback. "I feel like shit."
Connie nodded, gold eyes narrowing with empathy as he looked away, gaze following Jean's line of sight. "…How is she?" Jean could only shrug, it was all he allowed himself to do, lest he break down now. Keep it together. Blinking, Jean practically envisioned Eren glaring up at him, Keep your shit together, Horseface. Looking back at Connie, he felt a bit stronger.
"Not sure yet. They're still operating." Connie let out a long sigh, before crossing his arms. "She lost a lot of blood…"
"How long as she been in there…?" the buzzcut muttered, turning to look out the nearest window, seeing pale light begin to pour through the glass, contrasting against torchlight. Jean said nothing for a short while before turning away.
"Almost eight hours."
Connie's eyes jumped to him, surprised. "Eight hours?"
"Maybe more."
Another pause, and this time Connie made no noises aside from lifting his hand to rub his fingers over his scalp. "How's Li?" The question seemed to have taken the shorter man by surprise, yet when he remained silent, Jean guessed he was just watching him to see if he could catch him fraying.
"Fine. Her injuries weren't as bad… she fell asleep a while ago…" Connie trailed off. Over the next short period of time, the two men remained quiet, unsure of what else to say for fear of emotions rampaging and anger being unleashed unwittingly. It wasn't hard to notice… Jean could feel it, saw it in the way Connie remained still of his usual prattling on and iconic sways. He was always so still during these times, as if the single movement would offer too much disturbance in a time that demanded stillness. It was hard not to submit to the mourning that was laying waste to the Castle's built good cheer. All they could do was stand by and watch as the hurricane ripped apart the remains of the joyous occasion.
After a moment, Connie took a step to face Jean more directly, amber eyes certain, "Have you been able to go see Sasha?"
The reminder of his girlfriend and newly affianced lover sent a kick to Jean's heart. A kick that struck an already weary organ with a lot of the recoil… and a lot of the pain. He felt so wrong for not having tried to find the auburn haired woman yet, but despite the desire to go after her, his feet remained glued to his spot. Connie took his silence as a negative, letting out another sigh, less lengthy and marginally more exasperated.
"Jean," his tone was hard, disbelieving and irritated. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I promised to watch after Historia," was said man's rebuttal, clipped and cold. "I can't leave now…"
Connie let out another series of noises that landed on Jean's uncaring ears, yet no actual argument fell past the other man's lips. Just empty protests and rugged disappointments. "Fine," the short man agreed begrudgingly, knowing full well that Jean would not be going anywhere anytime soon. "I'll bring her here."
The taller man's eyes widened, turning to look at his companion with surprise, "What do you… Sasha's alright?"
"You won't be when she gets here," Connie snorted, but smiled nonetheless. A loud exhale that Jean hadn't realized he had been holding in blew past his lips in a relieved gust, chest deflating and shoulders feeling lighter at this information. "I'll be back in a bit, Jean. Don't go anywhere."
"Stupid thing to say," Jean rolled his eyes, Connie was turning around and waving him off flippantly. It would be a lie to not admit the thought of Sasha coming to him, safe and sound, excited him. It only just truly occurred to him how much her absence had left him feeling like something had bitten off a huge chunk of his heart. Now he could feel the wounded organ patch itself together with great enthusiasm.
When he turned his attention back toward the door labeled with the sign 'intensive care', his eyes immediately found Historia's sleeping face. In his heart, Jean found himself hoping desperately that she would blink those blue eyes open. That she would smile again and make them all light up with the brilliance that was her persona. If she did survive… Please survive. Live.
Shuddering out a slow breath, Jean turned and began to pace again. The sound of his boots echoing in the silent hallway bounced into his ears, clattering and feeling like the pressuring drops of seconds and time just ticking away. For a short moment, Jean allowed his mind to hone on the sound, the feel, and the force of each footstep, allowing it to clear his mind and allow some peace to filter through his bones. Then again, perhaps peace was probably not the right word anyway…
There was a soft squeak and woosh from the door. Jean whirled around, nearly tripping over his feet as he looked anxiously into the face of Alex. The young man looked exhausted, pale, and looking like he was in desperate need of a hot shower. The sleeves of his arms were splattered and ruined in blood, some stains fresher than others.
"Alex," Jean breathed, stepping close to the shorter man with an alarmed expression, not sure how to read the bowl cut's exhaustion as a good or bad sign. He hoped for the best anyway. He had to. "Please tell me you've got good news for me, man."
Gray eyes blinked a couple of times as Alex wet his lips with a flick of his tongue, inhaling. "Is Arlert anywhere here?"
"No." Jean replied slowly, hating the sudden weight of the air over his head as Alex contemplated his next words.
Instead, the cadet nodded once before looking into Jean's waiting gaze, "We've done all we can, at this point, Jean."
No.
Alex sighed again before rubbing his nose, "She's stable for now… but unresponsive. It's up to her to stay alive at this point, and with all that's happened… it doesn't look too good."
"What are you saying…?" Jean muttered. "Is she going to live or not? What are the chances, Alex? What are the odds, is she going to make it or not?!" Please don't… don't die… Please…
The raven haired man looked away and turned his gaze to look through the small window Jean had haunted next to for the past few hours. "She lost a lot of blood, Jean. Cray says that the trauma alone should have killed her, it was miracle alone that she's still alive. But, the chances of her lasting the night are less than twenty percent. I'm… I'm sorry."
He was moving before he could stop himself, fists gripping onto the coarse fabric of the cadet's jacket before pulling him close, Jean looked absolutely horrid. "Twenty percent is still a good chance. You don't know her like I do! She's going to make it!"
Alex's eyes, once wide with shock at the sudden display of emotional onslaught, crinkled with sympathy and sadness, "Jean…"
"Don't you dare apologize to me!" The officer bellowed, hating how his fists were now shaking against his will. "She's still alive, Alex! And she's going to live, do you understand me? She is!" the sting of tears came like a cruel lover, forcing the hot trails to burn down his cheeks like a caress given after a vicious slap. Despite Jean's livid words and slow incoming sobs, Alex's words came like the fall of a guillotine.
"I am sorry, Jean…"
"Shut up!" Jean roared, but his body was already slumping to the ground, taking Alex with him. The bowl cut did not object, remaining silent as his knees hit the ground and the other man broke down before him. Neither man cared much for the minutes that passed them…
And so they didn't see the newest figure standing across the hall, didn't see the emptiness churning into disbelief and finally boiling into a hot anger within a pair of blue eyes. In the rampage of emotions, neither noticed the presence of this newcomer, not realizing how he had stayed in silence as he suffered the pain of nearly losing his lover for the second time that night.
Fists clenched tight besides the slim legs that belonged to none other than the blonde solder, Armin Arlert. In silence, he watched the two men exchange tears over the events and lives lost, and while Armin had not heard the full extent of their conversation concerning Historia's life, he had heard plenty. This night was supposed to be their wedding night. This was supposed to be the happiest occasion, the result of patient waiting and loving vows exchanged with a kiss and consumated in their bed, but it all ended in blood and chaos. So much chaos… and it was all because of her.
His Historia was dying… and whatever chances she has for survival were slim… so very slim…Those chances should've never been cast like dice on this day. None of this was supposed to happen.
Yet, it did.
The desire for vengeance swirled like black water in his veins, making his fists clench tight and his muscles coil with flames. Annie had taken this moment from him, taken more and spilt blood with a smile. A deed not unlike the events of four years ago… but this time…
Armin was not going to stand back and let her take any more.
No more games, Annie. No more bets.
With a silent turn of his heels, the young Lance Corporal set his jaw and limped quietly away in the direction of the Commander's room.
Time's up.
TBC
Fun note; if you follow me on spotify I will be making special playlists for Nimbus and Thunder Clouds there—find me under Kat Lionheart Poveda. Those playlists will be up soon there and on 8tracks.
Til' next time!