Chapter 34: The Promise


Another change of dressing on day four. Nora's heart jumped a little when she saw that his wounds had started healing. Significantly further along the process than what could be considered normal in this time span. His Ackerman regeneration came through—yet he wouldn't wake up. What happened on the outside was one thing, but what the bullet had done to the inside of his body was another. Nora had asked for Ayad this day so he'd take a brief look. Not that she trusted the bastard, but so far, he had been brutally honest with this and not at all concerned about her mental wellbeing. And that was what she counted on.

The doctor was very much intrigued by Levi's enhanced healing.

He also said that the longer the coma lasted, the less likely it was that he woke up.

The truth wasn't always pleasant to hear, but she needed it, desperately. Always, even now, especially now. Truth was power. Power was control. She needed every scrap of control she could get in this unpredictable, indomitable world. Her obsession with truth was the main reason that brought her to the Scouts and one of the things that got her addicted to Levi.

Jean and Armin showed up that afternoon. They looked at Levi as if, until that moment, they hadn't really believed it possible that their captain had been that gravely injured. Nora could relate, in a way; she had been consumed with worry when he'd gone off on his own, yet it had hit her like a sledgehammer when he'd collapsed in her arms, when her biggest fear had basically come true. She had been utterly unprepared. She could never have been prepared.

Her two squad mates tried to cheer her up. An ambitious endeavour.

"I'm sure he will wake up soon," Armin said, briefly squeezing Nora's shoulder. She tensed all over, barely able to tolerate the physical contact when it felt like her skin was missing. Because he had a reason for everything he assumed, Armin added, "Erwin woke up ten days after losing his arm. And he wasn't like the captain."

"Exactly," Jean said. "He made it through the surgery, and now he's healing up. Could be any day now."

They looked tired, didn't smile, but their words rang with a conviction Nora envied them for.

"You can't really compare Levi's injuries with Erwin's." Her empty voice was weak and hoarse, slowly vanishing with the rest of her. "And we can't know at all if they are something he can come back from."

Exhaling through his mouth, Jean brushed his hand through his light brown hair. "Do you really believe—"

"I don't believe a single thing." Nora watched Levi's motionless face, blinking repeatedly, gritting her teeth. "The only fact is, all I can do is sit here and fucking wait."

They left it at that. No more arguments. After minutes of silence, the two asked it. The question Nora was prepared for, as much as she dreaded it.

How did Connie die?

Staring holes into the white wall of the hospital ward, she told them he had been shot in the head, by her side. That it had been quick. That they had been very close to escaping.

They didn't ask anything else.

#

Day five ended and Nora's eyes remained open, burning like hell. She had slept maybe two or three hours each night, half sitting. Levi-style, almost. Before they'd started sleeping together, anyway. How had he done it for so many years? She felt faint, she felt sick, her vision wasn't quite as sharp. Half of her thoughts were jumbled nonsense. Her limbs were weak and heavy and shaky. Her mind and body frozen in a constant state of alarm, barely allowing her any rest.

What if something bad happened while she was asleep?

It was one o'clock when she was exhausted enough to be able to make herself 'comfortable' in her wooden chair, leaning forward to rest her head next to Levi's elbow on the narrow mattress. Keeping hold of his hand, she closed her eyes, trying to listen to his breathing just like she'd tried the nights before. It was virtually impossible because it was so faint.

Nothing changed. Not for the better, not for the worse. But if something changed, she would be right here, and that was her only solace.

She would be right here.

Shit, she was so tired…

His fingers twitched in the relaxed grip of her hand, right as she had started to nod off. Nora jolted upright, absolutely, painfully certain she had dreamt it.

But Levi woke without making a sound, his heavy eyelids fluttering open, blinking a few times.

For several seconds, she couldn't speak. Her throat was dry and tight, and her palpitating heart stuck in there.

When her voice started working again, it was too high, barely recognisable. "Levi? Can you hear me?" Please, please, stay awake, please, please…

Eventually, his eyes found her face; unfocused and barely open, but without any trace of disorientation, she was sure of it.

"Yeah," he rasped, almost inaudible, "can hear you." And the first thing that unbelievable Ackerman idiot did was try to sit up, bracing himself on his hands.

"Don't," Nora said, alarmed, gently pressing him back down with her hand on his chest. "Stay put." Miraculously, it worked, and it was far too easy, too. Her throat problem had escalated to the point she struggled to swallow. Handing him the glass of water from the bedside table without spilling was inexplicably difficult. Carefully, she propped his pillow up for him a bit, just enough so he could drink.

Once she had taken the glass from him, he raised his hands, gingerly feeling the bandage around his head, just above his brow. Nora had to keep herself from stopping him, watching closely to make sure he didn't do any damage.

"Bullet grazed you. Starting at your left temple," she managed to inform him with some difficulty.

"Yeah. Can kind of tell it's the left side." Levi grimaced the littlest bit.

His face was making expressions, again. Minuscule, achingly familiar Levi-expressions. He was moving, talking, alive, really alive. It was staggering. It was unfathomable. It was beautiful. It was everything.

He was still hoarse, talking so quietly he was difficult to understand. "Plus, I remember. And not just that one." He lifted the blanket to examine his bandaged torso.

"That one was… the main issue," she pressed out. "Severe blood loss, lots of internal damage, especially your liver." Every single word was hard labour, increasing the pressure in her chest.

He nodded weakly. Levi, weak. Levi, awake. "How long was I out?"

"It's been five full days." Nora's voice had become so thin, wavering badly. Probably because she was shaking all over, as she only now noticed.

"Really? I was thinking one or two." He let go of the blanket, head dropping back on the pillow. "That explains why I feel like a pile of shit that got flattened by a titan."

For a moment, she felt like laughing. Never mind that her composure was hanging by the same thread as her sanity. It was the height of absurdity, but just leave it to Levi, freshly awake from a bloody coma.

With delay, her deadbeat, overwhelmed, fucked-up brain registered the implication behind his crass joke, and she jumped up from her chair—and steadied herself with one hand on its backrest. The room was spinning a little. She'd stood up too quickly. No matter. "Shit, sorry, you're in pain, of course… And you need to be examined. I'll go get a medic immediately—"

He caught her by her wrist, frowning. "Wait, not yet. It's not that bad." His grip was uncharacteristically light. She could have torn herself free.

Except she really, absolutely couldn't.

Even though he still had a hard time keeping his eyes open, he examined her closer in the soft glow of the wall lamp Nora always left on. "You look like shit. What's the matter?"

Said the man who looked like he'd just come back from the dead—which wasn't even far from the truth.

The audacity of this question. The audacity of him doing this to himself, and to her.

This was the last straw. Reality caught up with her—excruciating, wonderful reality—and those past few hellish days caught up with her, and she broke apart. The tears seemed to come out of nowhere, and all at once, so so many.

"What's the matter? What's the fucking matter? You almost died, you fucking arsehole, and then I didn't even know if you'd wake up at all," she sobbed, her chest heaving with these harsh, undignified sounds. She was full-on ugly-crying now, and she nearly collapsed on top of him—that last bit of common sense she had left just enough to avoid hurting him—and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

His hand came to the back of her head, sliding into her hair, softly stroking her scalp with the rough pads of his fingers. It made her shudder, raising goosebumps all over, and she bawled even harder, but somehow she didn't mind anymore.

His smell was different. Like hospital and illness, but beneath that, still him, salty and sweet and perfect. Not ocean-salty, this time, but his own. Only his soap and the tea were missing.

Slowly, his scent, the warmth of his skin, his caresses, soothed her. When she'd regained enough of her composure to make the sobs stop, at least, and breathe properly, she reluctantly separated from him, slumping on the chair. Wiping at her eyes and cheeks proved futile. She opened her mouth, intending to apologise for crying all over him, but the look on his face stopped her short.

His expression was so… much. The inner corners of his brows lifted, tired eyes shining, soft lips pulled down at the corners. Full of sad understanding.

"It's not fun, is it?" No trace of accusation was to be found in his voice, all at once surprisingly gentle.

Nora could only nod, sniffling. Silently, and avoiding eye contact, she kept sitting by his side for a minute or two, until the tears she wiped away weren't replaced by fresh ones any longer.

"I have to get someone, now," she said, eager to put that little scene behind her. She at least wanted to try to be strong for him, not a burden first thing after he woke up, far from healed. She rose once more, careful this time. "Try not to nod off, again, or they'll think I've finally lost it."

"Now why would they think that," Levi murmured, and his sarcasm was like a balm for her whole system, enveloping her and warming her up from the inside, reaching every last, raw crevice.

#

The medics brought soup after they'd examined him, satisfied with his condition. They gave him pain medication, and he took it without comment, which was worrisome and a relief at the same time. Levi was, however, to stay in bed, except for very careful walks to the bathroom and back. He didn't take that order with much enthusiasm.

Once they were alone again, Nora set the tray on his lap—she had let him sit up properly, this time—but hesitated, spoon in hand.

"Do you need help?" She waved the spoon in the approximate direction of his meal.

And got her first full-fledged scowl. "I can eat my own damn soup. My arms are working just fine."

Hugging her legs, chin propped on her knees, Nora watched him eat as if she were an ornithologist who had just discovered a new bird species. But it wasn't like she had anything better to do than stare at him. How could there be anything better to do, right now? If Levi was annoyed, he didn't say anything.

And then, he asked. Of course, he did.

"How are the others? Anyone else injured?"

She had hoped it would wait until after he'd finished his meal. Maybe even after he'd slept a bit. Something in her face made him put the bowl back on the bedside table. He'd eaten most of it, at least.

"Connie's dead," she said thinly, too quiet, too loud.

He went very still, eyes widening. For a moment, the fatigue was gone. Then his jaw set, his expression a stony mask again. "How?"

"Got shot in the head while we fought our way out of that bloody facility. It happened so fast…" She was digging her nails into her forearms, squeezing her legs tighter against her body, but at least she managed to talk. He had to know, and he had to hear it from her. He was their captain, and she had seen it. Plus, somehow, telling Levi didn't make it worse. It simply felt necessary. "We were so close… Less than a fucking metre from the vestibule. He was right beside me. I was right there, and still I couldn't… It's my fault, yet neither Sasha nor any of the others are angry with me."

Without hesitation, Levi shook his head decisively. "If that's how it works, it's just as much Hange's and my fault." Nora opened her mouth, but he didn't let her get in a word. "We're your superiors. Our orders are what led to this. She ordered the mission and planned it with you. I split up with you in there and sent you that way." He squinted at her. "So you either stop blaming yourself, or you blame us, too. Either option has its rationales, but it ultimately doesn't change what war means, what it costs. And it sure doesn't change what happened. The question is only how you deal with it."

A cold, stony weight lifted off her chest—leaving behind the grief and some guilt; but they weren't crushing, any longer. Suddenly, she could breathe freely.

This man. He hadn't been awake for more than two hours, and yet the contrast to before was so staggering it might very well have been another life. One of the lives from her nightmares, where he didn't exist, those lives that weren't even lives, but hell on earth.

Fuck, it was beyond unhealthy how desperately she needed him. Then again, their life wasn't healthy, so why give a shit? She would question everything else before she questioned the best thing in her life, the thing that kept her going.

Levi was blinking exceedingly often. His greyish-blue eyebags were something else. Those two hours, the talking and the eating, seemed to have consumed what little energy he'd had. Plus, the painkiller was likely starting to take effect. Good. Objectively spoken, he looked like hell.

Subjectively, he could have been in a coma for five weeks and still be the most beautiful person she'd ever seen—especially the moment he opened his eyes.

He didn't yawn; the man never yawned, for whatever reason. It was quite bizarre.

"You should sleep," Nora told him.

"I slept enough for a whole damn month."

She rolled her eyes. "Your maths might be sound, but I don't think being in a coma counts." Her voice still cracked a little at the word, and she could not resist reaching for him, tracing her fingertips over the dark circles under his eyes. His eyes fluttered shut for an instant. "Come on, you can barely keep your eyes open."

"Fine, brat—if you go, too," he said sternly. "It's past three in the morning."

One look at him made it clear enough; he wouldn't budge on this.

"Fine." She waited until he'd made himself comfortable, then folded her arms on the mattress, pillowing her head.

A short silence. Then, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Nora lifted her chin, blinking at him. By now, the insides of her lids felt like sandpaper against her eyeballs. "Sleep?"

Incredulity quickly gave way to anger and he said, "Piss off from here and use our own bed, idiot."

Our own bed. Fuck, was she happy such a thing still existed. Even so; shrugging, she only said, "Can't." Not yet. She had to make sure he would wake up, again.

He studied her beneath lowered, pitch-black lashes, turning her inside out again—and, to her surprise, did not argue. "Then take that one here, at least." He pointed to the bed next to his. At two or so metres distance.

She could live with that. She could keep an eye on him that way. "Alright," she said, holding his gaze without even a trace of abashment, for once. She had forgotten how it felt to be so warm, so full inside her chest.

Levi's brows pinched when she didn't move. "What?"

Swallowing, Nora whispered, "You came back." Had she spoken any louder, she didn't know what it would have done to her.

"Yes, well…" His half-shut eyes flicked to the side. "Someone very irritating and very important forced me to make a promise, so I didn't have much of a choice. I hate making promises I can't keep."

###

Levi woke up first. Squinting against his splitting headache, he tried to decipher the time on the wall clock; it took a while until his vision sharpened. It was eight, already. Nora had originally planned to notify Hange first thing in the morning, but by now, surely one of the medics had already done the job.

Turning his head to look at Nora was an excruciating, slow process. Pain had made a playground of his body, and his coma-addled brain wasn't the worst offender by far; his entire torso felt like it was on fire, originating from the right side of his abdomen, uncontained. The sharp pain stabbing his ribs at the smallest movement didn't help either. All in all, not the end of the world, but a tedious bitch to deal with. He was useless for the time being and confined to this shitty ward.

He'd never got that hurt, before. By a mile. Only the occasional cut, a few broken ribs here and there, that one time he'd broken his ankle, and one or two concussions. Nothing worth mentioning. He'd certainly never been out like a light, and for five days, at that.

Nora was sleeping on her side, facing him. Her arm was dangling down the edge of the bed, her sandy-blonde hair partly obscuring her face. He couldn't remember the last time she had been so utterly still in her sleep. Her distinctive brows—a few shades darker than her hair—and her lips were soft, relaxed. Suddenly, he wanted to get out of bed pretty badly, when it had seemed like the worst idea only a minute ago.

A door banged somewhere in the corridor, followed by muffled conversation. Her eyes fluttered open.

Great, the noisy bastards had woken her up. She blinked, disoriented—and her gaze landed on him. A tiny, tired smile worked its way on her face, unexpected and rare.

Maybe there were worse things than being here, right now.

"Hey—you're awake," she said, voice scratchy.

"What else?"

The smile disappeared, lips pursing, but the gleam in her dark-chocolate-eyes stayed. Huffing, she crawled out of bed. "What else, my arse…"

Smoothing her wavy mane with her hands, she shuffled over, squinting at his face. Puzzle-solving.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, then added immediately, "No, stupid question. I mean, how much pain are you in?"

"It's a non-issue. I'll live," he said. It would pass soon enough. Moreover, he didn't need her bothering her head over that trite crap. Slowly, he pushed himself into a seating position, gritting his teeth.

Nora's lips pressed into a serious line. "I'll go get someone."

She was out the door before he could say anything.

#

What he saw when the medic changed his bandages was not quite what he had expected.

"Care to tell me what happened here?" he asked Nora once they were alone and she was sitting by his side again, pointing at his bandage—where the long, stitched cut running across the entire right side of his abdomen was once more hidden beneath.

She palmed her forehead. "Oh, right. I totally forgot to tell you last night."

And she briefly summarised how it had come that he'd had major surgery on a fucking airship. What had been the alternative, what the doc had said. Her voice was terse, strangely monotone.

He took a few seconds to process this, but it didn't get any less insane. "So you guys let a man we abducted from Marley cut me open?"

"What convinced me were his shamelessly selfish motivations."

Me. That struck him as odd. "You were the one who made the decision?"

"Hange told me to." Gaze cast down on his blanket, she shrugged, the movement jerky. Her expression was tense and withdrawn, aggravating him. Unacceptable; he would not let her hide from him. It was only fair to let him know what had gone down while he'd been out cold.

Before he could ask her what her deal was, however, Hange barged in, panting and excited.

"Now look who's finally decided to wake up from his beauty sleep!" She clapped her hands together.

Leave it to her to annoy him with the very first sentence she uttered.

After one step in their direction, Hange paused, a small crease forming between her brows. Adopting her best commander voice, she told Nora, "You go eat some breakfast. Right now. And this time, I won't budge. I'll fight you if I must."

What was that about? Hange didn't usually worry about anyone's eating habits. Levi got the sneaking feeling he should have forced Nora to eat some of his soup.

She made a face. For a moment, he was sure she'd refuse. But then, she pushed to her feet. "Yes, Commander," she said pointedly, shoving against Hange's side on her way out.

How could such an enormous attitude fit in such a tiny woman?

For whatever reason, Hange beamed.

Nora paused with her hand on the door handle, looking over her shoulder at Levi. "Should I bring tea when I get back?"

The mere thought had a similar effect on him as a painkiller. Better, even. He quirked a brow at her. "Stupid question. I'm awake, am I not?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. She left without a reply.

Hange plonked herself down on the chair Nora had vacated. After bombarding him with mostly unnecessary questions about his well-being, she fell oddly silent all at once, picking at the sleeve of her shirt, worrying her lip with her teeth.

"What is it?" he asked when he lost his patience after half a minute. "You aren't usually one to keep your mouth shut."

"Just…" Her gaze was dead serious. "Look after yourself as much as possible in the future, okay?"

What a useless request. "It's not like I'm trying to die, four-eyes."

"I know. If there's only a single person who can be called a survivor, it's you. It's just… I don't think she'd want me to tell you that, but it's not like no one else has seen it, so…" Hange inhaled deeply. "Nora was… I won't say distraught, because that's such an understatement it's a straight-up lie. I've never seen her like this before. Not even close. When you collapsed, losing so much blood, she freaked out. She lost it. She was shaking like a leaf, she cried—I've never seen her really cry before, have you? She's always so—"

Hange broke off, seeing something on his face. He could imagine what as he thought of the select few times he'd seen. When Nora had been in so much agony it had simply overflown, and he powerless to take it from her. Worse: in one way or the other, he had always been the cause, just as yesterday, and still that woman kept clinging to him.

Hange gave a nod, a sad yet relieved smile playing on her lips. Levi had no idea what she could possibly be relieved about.

"Anyway," Hange said quietly. "My point is, she wasn't herself. After your surgery, she pulled herself together—somewhat. But at first… For a moment there, I thought—" She took another steadying breath, her gaze firm. "I thought I'd lose you both. I thought that if you died, she'd die right there with you."

Levi almost flinched, fingers pressing into the mattress. Her words hit too close home, drawing forth pain that eclipsed that of his wounds. But this time, the roles were reversed, and everything Hange was telling him was hard to imagine. Nora wasn't the type to lose her shit like this, to "freak out", especially not in front of others and during a mission. It must be Hange catastrophising what she had observed in an exceptionally crappy situation.

"Bullshit," Levi said. "You wouldn't have lost her. The brat is too stubborn to leave things unfinished."

"Yes and no. I wouldn't have lost her as a comrade, maybe, but I would still have lost her." Her eye glazed over, as if she were watching a nightmare play out in her head. "The look on her face… it was horrible. So similar to the one I saw on yours, once."

His stomach went cold. So did his voice. "Don't start with that shit. You don't need to remind me. You'll never need to."

"I know. After all, that's the one time I've seen you cry."

He scowled at his blanketed knees. If not for the alarming things Hange had snitched to him, the memory would have pulled him right back in against his will, taking his mind in a firm, icy grasp. What he had been looking at, how his vision had gone blurry, how he'd been dying with her.

Nora wasn't him, but…

She lost it. The look on her face…

If it had been only half like Hange had described, then—

A wave of anger hit him, hot and abrupt, competing with his burning abdomen and accelerating his heartbeat. "And still you put the decision what to do with me on her, in that situation? When she was…" A fitting description eluded him, and he shook his head, glaring. "How shitty is that? You're the commander." He poked Hange's chest in emphasis, not as hard as he had intended. Stupid, fucking coma.

"You're right. This might be the worst thing I've ever done to her." She met his wrath with calm confidence. "But I stand by it. It was her decision to make, not mine. I don't have to tell you why. And she did, despite everything, and here we are. Don't underestimate her."

"Tsk. I'm not underestimating her, goddammit. I'm just—" He stopped himself, almost as furious with himself for this knee-jerk reaction as he was with Hange. There was nothing more to say he hadn't said already, and he really didn't feel like talking again about what he couldn't do.

"I know," Hange said. "It's like some kind of deep-rooted instinct for you, am I right?"

Deep-rooted instinct. At once, nonsensically, he thought of Mikasa. We all get that you love him. Try not to act crazy, he remembered saying to her once.

But he wasn't like Mikasa. He wasn't acting crazy. He wasn't.

No need to answer such annoying, rhetorical questions. He'd rather focus on what really mattered here. "Great job, Shitty Glasses. Given that whole shitshow back on that airship, I'm no longer wondering why Nora was so tight-lipped when she told me about the surgery earlier."

Hange inclined her head in assent, taking his ire without a single twitch. "Once she'd made the decision, she threatened to kill the doc, and slowly. The man she'd put so much hope in and risked everything to get, who could be of such immense value to us. And I have no doubt she would have gone through with it had there been the slightest indicator he might have harmed you on purpose. Even once we got back here and she'd calmed down a little, if you can call it that, she wouldn't leave your side for more than five minutes, max. She kept checking your pulse compulsively. She spent every night here. She barely slept or ate or drank at all. In short, she was a total wreck."

Levi's mind was racing along with his heart. His fists bunched up the sheets.

Seeing as he'd been out of immediate danger, he had assumed she must have been better at least by then. That she had left the room sometimes; for a few hours at night, and to eat, for sure. He had thought she might have wanted to talk to their captive, maybe take a brief look at his research.

That stupid, idiotic nutcase. Of course, he knew why she had cried when he had woken up, that it was the very thing she hadn't brought over her lips the night of her birthday. But he hadn't quite expected the extent Hange had described, from the moment he'd arrived on the airship with his injuries.

Shit, he simply hadn't expected Nora to… to break; he had thought she had more sense than that. Was she really just as fucked as he was?

It might be hard to imagine her like this, but he didn't have to imagine how it felt.

He had never meant to do this to her, nor to himself.

When he could finally talk, his voice was dry and brittle. "Seems I missed a thing or two while I slept."

"You could say that." Hange sighed, shoulders sagging. "Anyway, we're all glad to have you back." And she smiled, the sadness slowly melting away. "We'd be screwed without you."

Probably. Most likely, they were screwed either way.

"By the way," he spoke into the lull of the conversation. "You could do with looking after yourself a bit more, too." He reached forward to put his hand on the crown of her head for a second or two, ruffling her hair.

"Why, Levi." Unlike Nora, Hange didn't dive away or straighten the mess. She only offered him an affectionate grin. "That was outright sweet."

"Tsk." His eyes drifted to the side. "You're her family, you know."

"Yes, I know. And you two are mine."

Another coma right about now wouldn't be half bad. His soldier life was far more complicated than it ought to be. Less 'soldier' and more 'life' than was comfortable.

Maybe in part to avoid having to think of an answer, he asked, "Why did you tell me all this?"

"I just think it's important that you know what she's been through. And maybe it also serves as an extra incentive for you to try your damnedest to stay alive. Would you rather I hadn't?"

"No. Ignorance doesn't change shit, it only makes you stumble around blindly like an idiot."

Hange's mouth curved into a lopsided smile. "Guess that's our motto, isn't it?"


AN: I don't know why, but I think the wake-up scene is one of my favourites. I loved writing and editing it.

As always, I would love to hear what you think.