Levi watched from a mile away as the electric storm writhed through the air, the signal that Erwin's titan had transformed. He and Hange waited side by side on horseback as the transformation's breeze wafted over them. The wind was always hot, and smelled faintly of ozone. Like lightning.
"Let's go," he said, and took off at a gallop. She rode alongside him, and soon they found the colossal titan standing in its customary starting place. Because of the destructive power of Erwin's mere transformation, they had to be specific about when and where they did it. They'd chosen the area near Historia's farm, a place now officially designated as the titan training grounds: no children were allowed past the barrier. Erwin's repeat transformations these last nine months had rendered the surrounding area almost desolate. Vegetation no longer grew there; it was a flat, barren expanse of earth.
"Levi. You deliver instructions," Hange said, firing off a green flare that meant Erwin had to wait for one of them to climb up to him. Not needing to be told twice, Levi deployed his hooks and jettisoned off, flying up and up the colossal titan. Erwin was sedate now, his skin only mostly hot to the touch. When Levi finally crested the titan's shoulder, he ran quickly up to Erwin's ear; or, given the titan's natural skinlessness, the place where his ear would've been.
The titan looked like a giant flayed Erwin; his eyelid-less eye tracked Levi as he ran up. That would always be creepy.
"Hange wants you to try making it to the outer boundary without losing body mass," he called. "Nod if you understand me."
A moment for the signals to run throughout the giant body, and then the colossal's head moved. They'd noticed back in Shiganshina that the colossal began to grow thinner if it was in action for too long. Hange wanted to see how long Erwin could hold on before he began to lose strength and shape. The last record had been twenty-one minutes. They were aiming for a full half hour.
Levi turned in surprise when a red flare erupted from the ground. Shit. Red always meant 'stop', or 'message.'
"Hold on," he grumbled. Levi raced back along the colossal's shoulder, then swung his way back down to the ground. He hissed in irritation as he raced over to Hange, who was standing next to a horse messenger. Some kid from the farm. "Hange. What the fuck? Erwin can't stand there all day waiting for—"
When he saw her eyes, he stopped. It got very quiet.
"No," he said.
"Levi." She grinned. "It's happening."
"But. It. Wait." Fuck, he was out of words. Petra… The baby… "It wasn't supposed to happen for two more weeks."
"Probably jolting over the roads in a carriage to get here sped it up. They've got a midwife on the way."
"Yes, sir." The kid tipped his cap.
"Midwife?" His heart sped up. "No. The doctors. We had the doctors in Trost…"
Seeing his wife swelling and swelling these last few weeks had made him antsy about the delivery. The knowledge that Erwin had gotten them the best doctor in Trost had eased his mind a little. I shouldn't have brought her along. Fuck.
"Midwives know as much as doctors about these things. Probably a little more," Hange said. She slapped his shoulder. "Go. I've got Erwin."
He didn't need to be told twice. Levi jumped onto his horse and galloped away, returning to Historia's farmhouse as fast as he could.
And all the way he thought, it's coming.
The baby was coming. His baby.
The old, sick grumble began in his stomach. He tightened his grip on the reins. He'd wanted to have the baby because it would make Petra happy. He'd wanted it because he wanted to have something that the world didn't want him to have, and Levi was still stubborn and perverse enough that simply defying assholes gave him pleasure. But he had somehow forgotten in the rush to marry Petra, in how fast he'd gotten her pregnant again, that women could have a difficult time in childbirth.
Having those fancy doctors in Trost had calmed him down. But now there was no way to get them here.
What if it kills her?
He shook those thoughts away as he rode up to the farmhouse. Not right now. Not ever. That Otto kid came out the door and walked down the porch steps to meet him. Levi jumped off his horse and handed over the reins. Normally he'd look after his own damn horse, but not today.
"The midwife's coming," Otto said. He led the horse to the stables as Levi hurried inside, slamming the door behind him.
"Levi?"
He heard Petra's voice in the back of the house. It wasn't a large residence, especially not for a queen, but Historia didn't like a lot of pomp. He found the queen sitting next to his wife's bed. The kid was holding a glass of water, wide-eyed, looking unsure what to do.
Petra was lying under the covers, breathing heavily. Sweat stood out on her forehead, and her hair was already stringy with it. Levi pulled up a chair and sat beside her, grabbed her hands. He had to be cool for her right now. He couldn't let his fucking anxiety bleed all over her.
"When did it start?" He kissed her forehead. To his surprise, Petra laughed.
"Look at you. I'm having our baby and you look ready to faint. I suppose that's normal—aagghhh!"
She winced and leaned forward a bit, gripping his hand. Fuck. Fuck.
"Baby, hold on. Just hold on!" he snapped, standing up.
Petra looked utterly baffled.
"Levi, it's just contractions. It's normal."
"You don't know what's normal. You're not a fucking doctor. Where's the midwife?" He glared at the bedroom door. "Maybe I can ride back to Trost and get the doctors."
"Levi, it's five hours back by horse, and it'll be dark by the time you get there! They'll be having dinner."
"They can eat dinner on the ride back!"
"Levi." Petra put a hand to his cheek. Her brow furrowed. "Please. You're scaring me a little. This is fine. I'm fine. Everything is normal."
Well, he'd planned to keep cool so she could be fine and he'd already fucking failed. Petra tugged at him and made him sit on the bed beside her. Historia, meanwhile, put down the glass and left to go look out for the midwife, or maybe just to get away from Levi's insanity.
"We're going to have a baby soon." Petra grinned, and kissed him lightly. "Oruo or Kuchel. Or both, who knows."
"It's got to just be one," he rasped. "I can't take that much mess."
Petra laughed hard, then winced at another contraction. Relax. He needed to relax.
"Do you need more, uh, pillows? Or water? Or…pillows?" he asked. She pulled him closer and kissed him. It was a long kiss. Reassuring. Deep. Sweet.
"You are going to be the most wonderful father." Petra beamed.
The only father I ever knew was Kenny. Oh fuck.
Why was he thinking about this now? Why was it so hot in here?
"Do you need a fan?" he croaked.
The door opened. A woman in late middle age with a sunburned face and strong-looking arms surveyed Levi, then Petra. Then she nodded.
"Right. You." She pointed to Levi casually. "Off the bed. Hey, sweetheart." She beamed at Petra, now ignoring Levi completely. "So how close are the contractions? Do you know?"
"Uh, they started about half an hour ago, but they feel kind of strong…" Petra appeared mystified by this woman as she stood hulking over Levi. He stared up at her.
"You the husband?"
"Yes. You the midwife?"
"Good guess. Okay. It could be a while, so you might want to wait outside. Shoo." She was talking to him like he was a troublesome dog. Levi stood up, debating whether he wanted to scowl at this woman or whether he was happy to see her. He could do both, and scowled. Happly.
"Thanks for coming," he said.
"Same to you," she said. "Or I wouldn't have a job today." Levi couldn't believe what she'd just said to him. Petra looked half-horrified, half-delighted. The woman then rolled her eyes at Petra and got to work.
"What's your name?" Petra asked, trying not to laugh as the midwife helped her sit up.
"Ilsa. Let's see your pulse." Ilsa checked Petra's wrist, clucking happily as she did. "All right. Let's start with—you're still here?"
Ilsa looked at Levi with half-lidded incredulity.
"It's my wife," he snapped.
Ilsa sighed. "Look, I've been doing this for thirty years. Fathers aren't much use at times like these. It'll be better for both you and your wife if you wait outside. At least until things settle a bit."
He couldn't argue with that, but this woman was so bluntly disaffected by his presence that it was kind of phenomenal. Levi had spent most of his life being revered or feared by one person or the other. This woman was in the queen's house attending to Humanity's Strongest—well, attending his wife—and she didn't bat an eyelash.
Levi narrowed his eyes. His lip curled. I think I like this asshole.
He grunted, nodded, turned around and left, shutting the door behind him. Historia was waiting out in the living room, standing near the window to gaze out at the deepening afternoon.
"Well," Levi said. He looked around the place, nodded. "Do you have any rags?"
"Excuse me?" The queen's eyes widened.
"I need rags, a broom, and a mop," he said, going to the satchel he'd brought with him from Trost. Levi put on his facemask and hair guard. "I've been too busy the last couple days to give this place a good cleaning, and your brats do a shit job of it."
"Ah." Historia said nothing else, only went and got him what he needed. She'd been on his squad; she knew he wasn't kidding.
For the next two hours, as the sun lowered in the sky, Levi cleaned. He lost himself in his focus, scrubbing the floors until they literally shone, dusting even the underside of the table to get every last speck of dust and grime. Levi swept the porch thoroughly, and scrubbed every last inch of the kitchen sink and the counters. When he cleaned, he felt at his most relaxed. No more dirt. No more mess. It's getting better.
He was just dunking the mop for a second wash of the floor when Petra's door opened and Ilsa stepped out. She jerked her chin.
"The contractions are coming along. It should only be a few more hours. If you wanted to spend some time with her before the big push, you should do it now."
This woman wasn't delicate. He liked that, even as he scowled at her. Levi went into his wife's room. Petra's nightgown was clinging to her with sweat, and her hair had been swept back from her face. She was breathing slowly, exhaling gently when Levi sat beside her.
"Ilsa says it should be a quick delivery." She beamed. "Only a couple more hours."
"Good." So far, there seemed to be no complications, which he'd feared above all. Levi kissed her greedily; he had to always be ready for the worst, it was ingrained in his body by now. He stopped kissing her when Petra grunted; another contraction. "You scared at all?" He frowned as he realized this was going to ruin the sheets. Disgusting.
"A little. More of the pain than anything going wrong. Oof." She winced at another contraction. "Yeah. These are getting shorter."
"You're good. You're fine." Levi gripped her hand. She wasn't leaving him tonight.
"Do you want a boy or a girl?" Petra asked. He knew it was meant to keep his thoughts occupied, away from her potential death.
"Either way. I just want you at the end of it."
"Levi." She petted his cheek. "I know you're scared that I could die."
"No. I'm fine," he grunted.
"You said your mother gave birth to you in a jail cell, with no doctor? If she was strong enough to do that, I can be strong enough here." She grinned. "I see you've been busy."
"Huh?" Oh, right. The face mask and kerchief. "Nobody ever cleans shit right."
"We're going to have to teach the baby all the finer points of cleaning." She hit the 'we'. Let him know she'd be around. He kissed her again, and again, until someone cleared her throat in the doorway.
"She needs to relax until it's time. You can stay if you want, but maybe stay off the bed and put your tongue away." Ilsa brought in a basin of water and some clean rags. Levi scowled.
"You sound pretty confident this'll go well."
"I've given birth to six kids of my own, and I've been doing this for decades. We'll get through just fine." Ilsa crossed her arms. "How many decades have your city doctors been practicing medicine?"
Well…fair. Levi got up, kissing Petra's forehead.
"I'll go finish the porch."
"I'll be right here." She winked. He left with a smile tugging at his lips.
When Levi entered the living room, he found Erwin and Hange standing around, looking awkward with Historia.
"Training go all right?" he asked.
"How is she?" Erwin asked. Not the question, but whatever.
"The midwife says it should be in a couple hours. Fast delivery."
"Amazing!" Hange looked excited, though she eyed his mop with trepidation. "Er. Well, we'll leave you to it and go start on the daily log."
"You could help clean the porch," Levi said. Erwin was stifling laughter, while Hange nervously grinned.
"Er. Heh. I got my exercise in for the day already. I'd, ah, better see to the horses."
"Thought you needed to record the experiments."
"Both. I can do both." Hange was the least fastidious person Levi had ever met; having to clean was to her like getting a hole drilled in her skull. She bolted out the door, while Erwin nodded to him.
"Do you need company?"
"I'm fine." Truth was he wouldn't have minded, but getting Erwin involved in his personal life in any way still felt too odd. Since that day nine months ago when Erwin had kissed Petra, he hadn't been untoward in any way. He hadn't singled her out, or tried stealing her away in conversation. He'd been pleasant and professional to her. Levi had appreciated it, and Petra, being the sweetheart she was, had been happy to put the whole thing behind her. 'He went through hell', she told him once. 'He came back so changed and hurt. Of course he acted out. He hasn't done anything since.'
No, Erwin had not. He'd been a perfect commander and gentleman. But Levi felt like during this moment with his wife, Erwin being part of it was still too much. The big guy appeared to understand.
"We'll be nearby if you need us." He exited after Hange. Levi watched him go, gut lurching. If you'd told him one year ago that he'd be married, having a baby, and unable to share everything with Erwin Smith, he'd have kicked your teeth in and called you a liar. Life changed fast.
Levi lit candles as the sun went down, and finally even he had exhausted himself and the area. He stared at the closed door like a fucking dog waiting for someone to let him in. He heard moans and cries, but nothing that sounded out of the ordinary for childbirth. Not like he had the faintest fucking clue what was normal.
More than two hours had passed. His stomach was now churning. He rapped knuckles on the door amid one of Petra's louder groans.
"Oi. Open up."
Ilsa opened the door but stood framed in the doorway. Levi looked past her and saw Petra lying on the mattress. The covers had been pulled off and lay pooled on the floor. That small amount of mess irritated him, but he soon forgot it. His wife's face was red, and she was covered in sweat. She looked exhausted, puffing out her cheeks and tilting her head back to let out another horrible cry.
Levi's muscles froze; he had to deny his instincts, which were to get in there and rip that fucking baby out if he had to, because Petra was in pain. Terrible pain.
"Why's it taking so long?" he rasped. Ilsa motioned him back, then came into the hallway and closed the door. His blood froze. That was never a good sign.
"We've had a complication," she said. "The baby hasn't turned. I'm trying to position its head so it can come out easier."
Levi stopped experiencing sensation of any kind when he heard the word 'complication.'
This was how it began. He'd thought he could escape. And he'd knocked her up on purpose; this was his fault.
"Can you save her?" he croaked. Ilsa, for the first time, looked at him with something like softness and maybe pity.
"This isn't my first breech birth. So far, I'm not concerned."
"When can you get it out of her?" He was ready to put his boot through the fucking wall. And even if they got the baby out, what if Petra got sick? What had he done? What the fuck had he done?
"Hey. Listen. You need to calm down." She was getting a little pissy with him now. "It'll do her no good if you stomp around acting like she's about to die."
She was right, but it didn't matter. Levi's vision was starting to go; the world around him seemed to whirl into darkness. He was going to lose her. A complication. Nothing wrong now, but soon—
"Levi!"
Hange was at his side. She pushed up her glasses and nodded to Ilsa.
"I'm more equipped to deal with titan biology, but I think I can help." Ilsa paused. "If nothing else, she could use a friendly face that doesn't look like…well." Both women glanced at Levi. Excuse him for loving his fucking wife.
But having Hange in there…
He trusted her. He didn't trust midwives or doctors, but he trusted her.
"Okay," Ilsa said. "You. Please, just go sit down. We'll let you know."
The women went into the room, and he heard the murmur of voices as Petra greeted Hange, followed by a piercing wail.
He couldn't. He couldn't. She couldn't…
He bolted. No other word, he turned and shot through the house and blasted onto the porch. He gripped the railing hard enough to give himself splinters, sucked in lungfuls of air to try to stay sane.
How can I love that kid when it kills her? How can I forgive myself?
"Levi." Erwin came out of the darkness, trooped up the porch. The commander stood over him, looking concerned. "What happened?"
"Complication," he muttered. "Baby's turned the wrong way. She says it's fine. Tch. That's how it always starts."
"She seems to know what she's doing," Erwin said gently. "If I were you, I'd trust this will be fine."
"I can't trust that, Erwin, because it's never fucking fine. My whole life, someone gets sick, and the next thing you know…" He had to stop talking so his voice didn't break. Erwin and he were silent a while, listening to the crickets off in the field. The moon was high, and brightened the nearby forest. He could see the shadowed outlines of trees on the grass. "Where's the queen?" he rasped.
"In the stables with the horses. I get the feeling childbirth unsettles her. Well. She's so young." Erwin gazed up at the moon.
"I need to go in." He needed to crouch by the door, ready to spring. Ready to…
"Walk with me. It's an order."
And despite everything that had passed between them, Levi obeyed Erwin's orders. Always. The two men trudged around the farmhouse, never going so far that they couldn't hear if Ilsa yelled for them.
"Most men would be excited tonight," Erwin said.
"Since when've I ever been most men?" Levi grunted. "I can't trust anything good. Almost a year I've been married, and every day I wake up thinking she could be gone from next to me. I tell myself to expect it. I'm almost ready for her to die right now. I'm so fucked up."
"You've been wounded deeply," Erwin said. "You carry a heavy burden. The only thing that will heal it is time, and good things happening to you. And now that our mission has changed, we have in some ways a less grotesque enemy to face. Even though the world hates us, I feel optimistic for the future."
Levi gazed at the commander, whose eyes were still turned up to the stars. With Erwin around, he could almost believe she wouldn't die.
"Any closer to figuring out our first move?" It was a relief not to talk about the baby for a minute. "Looks like the titans are thinning out. Hange thinks we can make for outside the walls in a couple months."
"And once we reach the sea, we have to deal with whoever's across it," Erwin said. He nodded. "I have thoughts…"
But he didn't elaborate on them, because Hange burst out onto the porch and waved them down. "Levi!"
He sprinted, leaving Erwin well behind as he barreled onto the porch and stood before her, heart hammering.
"What's wrong?"
"Huh? Nothing." Hange grinned. "Ilsa got the baby to turn. The head's crowning!"
Levi tried to process this. No. No, this had to be bloody and terrible; any minute now Petra would be in terrible agony, or the baby would die, or—
"Levi?" Hange looked puzzled. At least, as much as she could with one fucking eye.
"Can I see her?"
"You might want to wait until it's—"
And then, within the confines of the house, they heard a baby's cry.
Levi was a father. Huh.
Petra. He did not trust that the child could come safely into this world without his wife paying the ultimate price. He pushed past Hange and down to the door, throwing the thing open.
Ilsa was standing at the other side of the room, fussing with the kid. Levi heard sobs and gurgles, but he didn't care. Petra was lying on the bed, so still. Her eyes were closed. Her skin, even in the candlelight, was unnaturally pale. There was blood between her legs, staining the sheets. Too much blood, to his eye.
"Petra." He rushed to her side, fighting back the wave of grief that was speeding towards him because she was so pale, so still. He gripped her hand. "Baby…"
She opened her eyes, and smiled. She beamed. Her eyes were bright and fucking twinkling. She pushed herself up, grunting a bit. He helped her, not wanting to take his arms away. Levi studied the bloody sheets, the piles of bloodied cloths. He looked at Ilsa's back.
"Did you get it all out? The placenta?" He knew from Hange that a placenta came out with the baby, and if not removed the mother would die of infection. "If there's even the smallest bit of it in her—"
"Wow, placenta? First I've heard of it." Ilsa sighed wearily, then tutted over the kid. Levi turned back to Petra, who was now looking up at him with concern.
"Levi?" she said.
"Yeah." He kissed her forehead; wonderfully cool, if a little sweaty. He still didn't trust that this whole process had been quick and relatively painless. Something was going to go wrong. It always did. "Yeah, baby?" He kissed her lips.
"Don't you want to see her?" Petra asked.
"Who?" Levi frowned.
"Huh. Father of the year," Ilsa muttered. He glowered at her, but oh. Right. Fuck, yes, the baby. Oh.
"So it's a girl?"
"Kuchel. She's over there. You should see her." Petra kind of pushed him to get off the bed and stop stroking and fussing over her. "That's your daughter."
She said it to guide him over to the midwife, who had cleaned the brat off and was now holding what looked like a bundle of cloth. She raised an eyebrow.
"Support the head. Careful." She was very delicate as she placed the baby into Levi's arms. Fuck, was he supposed to feel something? He wasn't sad the kid was here or anything, he just felt neutral. Mostly he was just worried about dropping it…her.
It was like holding laundry, except something was kicking and wiggling inside said laundry. The baby made little noises of exertion, tiny grunts as she maneuvered herself. Well. Maybe she was his kid after all, if she was already annoyed with being held.
Levi moved the blanket from around her face. The baby's eyes were closed, and he could already tell she took after him. Fair skin, the faintest trace of jet black hair. None of her mother's gold and amber. Fuck. Would've preferred the kid look like Petra, but oh well.
"Um. Hi," he said. The baby made those little noises of exertion again, her brow furrowing. Then she relaxed as if exhausted, and her little mouth fell open.
It was…fuck. It was like looking at himself in a way. The thin eyebrows, the nose, even the chin looked like it'd be his, pointed and sharp. Granted she was just born, hard to tell, but…
She looked like him. Levi felt like he was staring at a person he'd been searching for his whole life without knowing it.
Oh. There you are.
"Kuchel," he said. His mother would've flipped to be a grandma. In their brief time together, he'd known she adored him. She would have adored this girl. It was jarring, as if Levi was holding his own mother for a second, but no. This was a new Kuchel. One who would never be hurt or abused by the fucking police. One who wouldn't have to work in a brothel. One who'd be protected. Always. Even if it took his dying breath.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Petra whispered.
He barely heard that. He was enraptured with studying the little details over and over, the nose and the eyes and the mouth. The baby's eyes opened by a sliver. She gazed up at him. He held her a little tighter, just cradling the head. Gently.
"That's your papa," Ilsa said in a singsong voice; well, she liked the kid at least.
Papa. My daughter.
Another Ackerman. One who wouldn't ever have her murderous powers awakened if he could help it. Fuck, he'd brought her into a dangerous world. But he'd make it safe. For her.
He couldn't save his mother. He couldn't save Isabel. But he could—would—save her.
"Kuchel Isabel Ackerman," he said, as if in a trance. The baby's mouth curled up in a smile. Fuck, could babies this young smile? Did it matter? She gave a little giggle, then coughed, then went back to sleep.
All the threads of his life finally came together to form a single tapestry. One big picture. The future held Marley, and the Beast Titan…but it also held her. She kept him from plunging into the abyss.
He could feel it. Rocked her a little, watching with fascination as she slept.
"Levi!" Hange barked in excitement. Instinctively, he moved, turning the baby away from her. He had to take care of the girl.
"What?" he snapped. Kuchel woke, and started kicking and bawling. Er, fuck.
"Aww. Can I see her? Can I?" Hange ooh-ed and aah-ed over the little bundle, wiggling her finger in Kuchel's face. The baby stopped crying and gazed in a stupor. "Hello, you! Hello! Hi hi!"
"Thought you didn't like babies," he said.
"Levi, don't be mean. I like other people's babies just fine!"
Ilsa cleared her throat next to them, then nodded at the bed. "I think the baby needs her mother."
Petra was sliding back into her nightgown; while Levi'd been stunned by Kuchel, Ilsa had bathed Petra and taken away the bloody top sheet.
Levi walked back to Petra, and he felt an irrational bit of jealousy as he placed Kuchel into her arms. Hey, he'd just gotten a turn… But Petra had never looked this happy, or this radiant. She cradled the baby, nuzzled and kissed her cheek. Kuchel made a little cry face and kicked.
"Are you hungry? Hmm?"
Levi helped without being asked, undoing the buttons so that she could take out her breast easily. Ilsa nodded and gave encouragement from the sidelines. Kuchel grunted and cried until she found Petra's nipple. Then she seemed to know what to do, because her lips clamped down.
"Good. She's latched." Ilsa sighed.
"Likes sucking on your breast," Levi muttered. He glanced slyly at Petra. "Already I know she's mine."
"If I weren't nursing right now, I'd have to kick you right in the balls," Petra said cheerily. He chuckled, leaning back against the headboard as he kicked off his boots. He sat up next to his wife, watched his daughter as she fed. Kuchel made little gurgles and grunts as she suckled. Eventually, she'd had her fill. Ilsa showed them how to pat her back to burp her. Kuchel spit up a little on a cloth across the woman's shoulder. Levi cringed, realizing that this was the first of a whole lot of piss, puke, and shit in his future.
But he couldn't even pretend it wouldn't be worth it. When Ilsa was done, he extended his arms greedily for the baby. But Ilsa handed Kuchel back to Petra, who laid the baby against her chest and rubbed her bare back. Kuchel cooed.
"It's important that babies have skin to skin contact," Ilsa said. Already she'd cleaned up most of the mess in the room. Levi had to hand it to her; she knew her shit. Petra rocked Kuchel back and forth, making soothing noises. She grinned at Levi.
"Take off your shirt," she said.
"Eh? Tch, don't think now's the time for any of that."
"I mean, you should have skin to skin contact, too." She shook her head lovingly. Ah. Right. Levi unbuttoned his shirt, folded it, and then was careful as Petra laid the baby in his arms. He held her against his abdomen. Kuchel fussed a moment, making her little grunts, then gave another tiny grin and fell dead asleep against him.
"She loves her papa." Ilsa finally gave him an actual smile. Yeah. Her papa.
He looked down at the tiny baby in his arms. She was like a dollop of cream, something so fragile he couldn't imagine letting her face a stiff breeze let alone titans and a world that hated her for existing.
You won't thank me for bringing you into this world. But I'm selfish enough that I'm grateful you're here. Tch. Some father.
Petra laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. She leaned against him, looking down at their baby.
"This is the happiest moment of my life," she whispered.
"Yeah. That's why it scares me." He wasn't kidding. Petra kissed him again. He turned, caught her lips. Kuchel had even taken his focus away from his wife for a second, but now his attention turned back. He kissed her forehead. "You gave me the best thing I could have in this shitty world," he whispered.
"Well, I did it for me, too." She grinned. She sighed. "I love her so much. It hurts. How is it possible to feel this much this fast?" Petra sniffed, on the verge of tears. Tch. Sap. But he loved her for it.
"Thank you," he muttered. She blinked at him. "You made me better."
He didn't like lovey dovey shit, but he meant this. Her lip quivered. She rested her head on his shoulder again.
"Same for me."
He lay there with his daughter in his arms and his wife resting, wondering how the fuck he'd gotten to this place. How had a man like him earned this much happiness?
As usual, the dark thoughts reappeared.
She'll die. She'll get sick. You'll lose her.
Then, some especially odd ones:
She was supposed to die.
You fucked up the future.
Weird. Those thoughts sounded almost like Eren. He blinked, shook his head. Kid took up a lot of space in his head these days. Poor boy.
But he looked back at his daughter, and he forgot the world outside for a minute. It was just the three of them in this candlelit, silent world. Levi gave her back to Petra, then slid his shirt back on.
"Well." Erwin stood in the doorway, though he didn't enter. "This is a perfect sight."
Petra laughed. There was no wariness in how she looked at Erwin now. Maybe having the baby had helped widen the gap between them now and them…then. Erwin only looked delighted.
"Would you like to hold her?" Petra asked. Erwin looked surprised, but he entered. Levi took the baby and showed him how to hold her. Seeing his daughter cradled in the commander's arms, Levi felt suddenly and completely that Kuchel would be safe. Erwin rocked back and forth on his feet a bit.
"What's it like? Holding her?" he asked Levi. "As a father."
"Um. Good." He was shit with words, but he tried. "Best I've ever felt. Well. One of the best things." Being in Petra's arms was still hard to beat.
"I see." Gently, Erwin gave her back. His expression was soft, but a little distant. "You're a fortunate man. You deserve to be. Congratulations. Both of you."
"Thank you." Petra smiled at him, then reached for the baby again. Levi handed Kuchel over. He turned, but Erwin had already left. Historia stood in the doorway, Hange behind her.
"Oh. Can I come in?" Historia asked, wide-eyed.
"Tch. You're the fucking queen. What do you think?"
He stood outside, just before the window, and watched for one minute. Petra was cradling the baby, laughing with Levi sitting on the bed with her, his arm around her. He looked at his wife with adoring eyes, then turned them to his daughter. He was still gruff and irascible, but he also looked more complete than Erwin had ever seen him. More human.
Good, Levi. I'm glad for you.
He meant it even as it pained him. He'd never know the joy of that himself. This was the closest he'd come.
Erwin looked for one more minute, then turned and lifted his eyes to the stars.
He couldn't sleep in Petra's bed for a few nights, for her own comfort. They found a laundry basket and filled it with blankets, then laid Kuchel inside. She cooed, smiling at all the freshly laundered sheets. Yeah. She was his.
It was four in the morning when they finally got everyone settled down. Ilsa stayed the remainder of the night, since she needed some rest. Levi could have slept in a room of his own, but he laid out a pallet beside Kuchel's makeshift cradle. He wasn't going to sleep, anyway.
When their door was closed and it was just the family, Levi sat beside Petra as she lay down, eyelids drooping. He kissed her again. She cupped his cheek in her hand.
"Thank you for telling me no," he said.
"Hmm?"
"During our first… The time before Kuchel, when you were pregnant." It hurt to bring up the first kid, but he felt he had to. "I wanted to get rid of it. You wanted to keep it. If you hadn't fought me, made me buy a cradle, all that domestic shit, I wouldn't have started to want it. I don't want to imagine a world without her in it." He kissed her again, savored her lips. "Or you," he breathed.
She gasped. He heard her struggling not to cry. Finally, she brushed her nose against his, the old affectionate gesture he loved.
"I love you more than anything," she whispered.
He let her sleep, then laid himself down beside the baby's cradle. He had heard from Hange that infants sometimes inexplicably stopped breathing in their first few months. He intended to make sure that didn't happen.
Not like it would. But he still didn't trust his luck.
So he lay there, listening to his daughter and his wife breathe. He didn't shut his eyes until daylight.