Chapter 42: Keep Dreaming

Levi was waiting in the corridor just outside the mess hall. Drumming his fingers against the wall at his back, which was preferable to punching a hole into it.

He wasn't normally the type to feel the urge to punch holes in walls or do equally demented things—like kicking chairs across rooms—just because he was having a shitty day. Not since he'd been an angry teenager in the Underground, anyway.

Unless, apparently, it had to do with this woman, the bane of his existence, the main reason he very much wanted to exist.

With them, it was always about time. And time was a bitch.

It couldn't be long until she came out. What else would she be doing? Have some more tea with Ayad, steering the conversation to the goddamn weather?

Not even a minute later, there she was. Nora's features were taut, hard to read for once because so much she was trying to repress was going on in her face.

"It's no big—"

Grabbing her upper arm and pushing at her back, he ushered her into the nearest empty meeting room; he really didn't have the patience for listening to her crazy shit right now.

Nora whirled to face him the moment the door fell closed behind him and hissed, "I'm not a dog. Can't you just ask me like a normal person for once instead of commandeering and pulling and dragging me—"

"No time for that shit. You're always talking back too much."

"In these situations, I'm not your bloody subordinate, it's my right to—"

"I got it the first fifty times you said it, brat. And you're proving my point."

"You are so…" She pressed her fists to her temples, letting out a huff.

"Careful, or you're gonna explode." He couldn't resist, not right now, after Ayad's little lesson. With that icy, jagged fury wedged in the pit of his chest. Less frozen lake and more blizzard.

Nora's eyes narrowed to slits, balled fists back by her sides. "If I blow you up, it won't be on accident, I promise."

"I'd rather you didn't. It's bad for your health."

His thoughtlessly honest response silenced her more effectively than intended. Potentially evoking questions he didn't even want to think about, let alone answer. Like, how the fuck he felt after finding out his girlfriend had yet another expiration date, this one as non-negotiable as it was deadly. And what he could do about it was the same as always: jack shit.

Nora's expression had mellowed, gaze on him thoughtful. "Why are we in here?"

She sounded a little as she did when she soothed her mare, but nonetheless, he was lucky she liked getting right to the point as much as he did. He was even luckier she was shit at talking about… emotions. At least at the moment, he considered it a fortunate circumstance. "From now on, you will use the Colossal only when I explicitly tell you so. We're done merely cutting back on your training. It's been long overdue. No more practising just because you feel like it or got some time to spare." Wide-eyed surprise was quickly replaced by indignation, her brows furrowed, and as soon as Nora opened her mouth, Levi added, "No more trying to master hardening; no more working on your speed, stamina, or agility; no nothing. It's useless anyway; you're already making the most out of this Titan. More than you've ever seen Bertolt do in all those shitty memories."

"But—"

"And no buts. You will transform only at my explicit command, and that's it."

Her face and neck had taken on a reddish hue, her eyes like fiery pits. "You do realise that Hange has the last word here, not you?"

Hah. Let Hange try. Besides, even she had a brain cell or two devoted to common sense. They needed their Colossal in tip-top condition, didn't they, and for as long as possible. It was the exact same as rationing gas during a mission. "Don't you worry your stubborn little head about that."

Nora shook said head at him. "You honestly think she'll back you up on this?"

"I'm right, so why the hell not?"

Her glare intensifying, she took a step closer, suddenly having to look up at him. "You so sure about that? Because, y'know, I'd wager you're rather biased in this."

"Of fucking course I'm biased, you dimwit. I'm nothing but biased when it comes to you," he snapped, his anger—hot all of a sudden—finally boiling over, the pressure hurting in his chest. Anger at something so elusive it was invisible to humanity, never mind that it was inside her goddamn body. "Doesn't mean I'm not right." He noticed his breathing was laboured, just standing there with lavender invading his nose, goddammit, and his ire suddenly wasn't mirrored in her freckled face anymore, which made it worse. "What is it now?" he barked.

Nora swallowed, eyes darting left and right before settling on a point near his chin. "I didn't expect you to admit it."

"Then you're either stupid or suffer from memory loss, and I'm quite certain it's not the first. Did you fall on your head recently?" He clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from first shaking her, then crushing her against him.

Still, her anger wouldn't return. He had said too much. She had made him say too much, once again. In a thin, just a little unsteady voice, she said, "You can insult me all you want, doesn't distract from the fact that you are—that this is—that you aren't taking this well."

His fists clenched harder, and so did his heart. "Now what gave it away?"

"Levi." And there was her mare voice again. "You know that what we learnt is just about as hypothetical as it gets. In the grand scheme of things—with 'things' meaning a sodding war—it's no big deal."

No big deal. Of course, her life being cut short was no big deal to her. Well, he fucking disagreed; what were they fighting for, if not to see the results? Dying for their dream might be worth it, but the other one—the one he'd thought for sure they shared, as well—hinged on both their survival.

The dream he thought of first whenever a future after the war was discussed.

Fifty years old, possibly less. How many years would that give them, after the hypothetical end of the war? Ten, at most, without her being in constant pain, unable to move around on her own? He'd watch her die slowly but surely, day after day. Because watch, he would. She'd need him, and she would hate that. And he would hate watching, but not as much as he would hate not being there to watch.

No big deal, my ass.

"I'll decide that for myself, brat," he said icily, and turned to go, bumping her shoulder with his on the way out.

###

Maybe Levi wasn't wrong about Hange. Nora recapitulated every last detail Ayad had shared with them, saw the conflict on her commander's face as she went over the facts and options; no curse was good, losing Nora's powers after roughly thirteen years and basically destroying her body not so much. But how was that relevant when she likely either died before that or was to be eaten if the war was still ongoing at that point?

Hange didn't need to say a word; Nora had already weighed the very same options, knew her expressions too well, how she looked when she was torn between her roles as a commander and a friend.

Nora could only assume which side won out when, after bombarding her with questions only Ayad could answer—if he felt like it—Hange said, "We have to overthink the frequency of your shifter training again—if it's still advisable at all, at this point—and watch after your health, keep up your strength."

Nora felt obligated to mention Levi's view; he'd tell Hange anyway, and far less nuanced. Before Nora could make her stance clear—not that she was entirely sure what that looked like, herself—Hange brought the subject to an end; this was something to discuss with all three of them present.

Nora didn't argue. Not only was Hange right, but she really, really had enough for today. And she still had to face Levi.

When she entered their quarters, he was sitting at the desk, not even glancing up from his paperwork.

Call it naïve, call it optimistic, but she waited for a few seconds, standing in the middle of the office. Waited for him to say something. Anything.

He didn't, of course, only kept reading whatever shit occupied his attention.

"Just buggering off and leaving me behind like that was terribly rude, by the way," she said then, arms folded, her tone conversational.

He finally looked up, squinting at her. "Why? You found your way back here just fine. Or did you get lost for the past hour?"

Nora took three deep breaths before she answered. "Alright, you can be like that, or you can tell me how you… feel." It was hard to force out the word; she got the sense she was treading on very thin ice. When Levi told her how he felt, no matter the subject, it was always scary. Taciturn he might be, but if he decided to talk about it, he was relentless. She didn't think it would be worth her terror, this time, but it was necessary; one look at him told her that much.

Swift and silent, he stood up, hands splayed on the desk. "You know damn well how I feel," he said sharply, yet keeping his low voice level. "It's safe to say I'm not happy with this newest development. We discussed how we'll proceed for now. There is nothing more to talk about."

Out of her depth and frankly, exasperated, the most Nora could do was hold his piercing gaze.

A dangerous glint entered Levi's cold-steel eyes as he assessed her. "Unless you want to tell me how you feel?"

Her heartbeat accelerated, a thick silence settling between them. She felt fine. It was no big deal, really. It was all hypothetical and therefore, irrelevant. Hypothetically, she'd go out in a shockingly similar way to her mother. Agonisingly slow, deteriorating bit by bit. Needing a caretaker. She knew who wouldn't take on that role, no matter what.

At least—hypothetically—she had more than the eleven Curse years left. That should be booked as a win, right? So, when Ayad had broken the news to them, only a hypothetical part of her heart might have stung, just a little. Had she, in that hypothetical part hidden deep inside, any shred of hope left, it might have splintered once again.

Those shreds were poisoning her gradually. The ones that had shrivelled and died as well as that hard, tiny core that was still alive. All of them fuelled her fear, reminding her of what her losses had done to her and, above all, what she still had left to lose. Sometimes, when she was mentally and physically exhausted and her guard down, her deepest desires would emerge from the depths of her traitorous mind and plague her.

A small, lone house at the sea. Levi and she, sitting on the sofa, reading or drinking tea or whatever. Bickering over chores, over what they should cook, over how she did the dishes the wrong way. Curled up in bed, touching, listening to the sound of the ocean.

Domestic, boring bliss. Exactly what she craved. Boring only at first glance, because life with Levi could never be boring, not even for a second.

But those were forbidden thoughts, unrealistic thoughts, unproductive thoughts. Abstract thoughts. Those were fantasies. They arose from that poisoning, tenacious shred of hope, but they never gave her hope. They never gave her strength, or strengthened her will to fight. They only made her sad. A painfully perfect pipe dream. And now even that pipe dream came with an ugly expiration date.

Yeah, that hurt. But explaining all that wouldn't help either of them, and it was all hypothetical, anyway—she reminded herself of that constantly—and therefore…

"I told you it's no big—"

"Don't say that shit again. And don't pretend that's an answer." Levi pushed himself upright, rubbing his temples with one hand, heedless of the wound on the left side.

Nora already had stepped one foot towards him, her mouth opened to caution him—when she remembered.

It wasn't a wound, anymore; it was a scar, already. Another thing she had to remind herself of regularly—with less than moderate success.

Not a wound, but a scar. Get this in your broken brain.

"I'm going to bed, then," she said. Instead of twisting the knives and giving what he would consider a real answer. When he met her eyes, what she found in his expression was both surprising and hard to place; the expected anger had dissipated, and in its place was… disappointment?

Was that better? It didn't feel better, not in the least. But she didn't want to fight right now, and he wasn't fighting anymore, either. She wanted to make it right, not worse, but she didn't see how.

In a small voice, Nora couldn't help but ask. "Will you come, too?"

"Later." Levi was the picture of composure once again as he settled in his chair, his face a blank slate, but he wasn't looking at her anymore. "Can't lie still, yet."

Her heart squeezed. She had a sense of the things he was hiding behind the wall he'd drawn up so suddenly, like it was second nature. "Do you want me to—" do the impossible and cheer you up? Make it all go away? Just get it over with and die in battle, because I really can't think of another way to achieve the latter. She swallowed, suggested the only thing she could think of. "I could get us tea."

He gave her one last, cursory glance. "I want you to go to sleep."

It wasn't said in a mean way. It wasn't even a command. It was nothing but hollow. It hurt, like a taste of her own bitter medicine.

Yet, she couldn't do anything else than comply, when the alternative was to open her mouth and splinter once more.

#

To avoid discussing the issue, Nora sat with the squad for all three meals the next day. In her defence, Levi and Hange went to eat at different times. She just didn't go out of her way to wait up. Besides, it wasn't urgent. Even her panic attack the night before had been just below the threshold of unbearable; she had been able to quietly suffer through it in bed. Nothing out of the ordinary, just her being a traumatised soldier. She wasn't anything special, so she really could not understand why her brain was so bloody melodramatic.

If her younger comrades noticed she wasn't quite up to snuff, even weeks after, they didn't say anything. And they probably did notice, all of them; Nora might have been eating a bit more since Levi was out of the hospital ward, but the mirror didn't lie; she still "looked like hell", to quote her charming lover. Sleep-deprived didn't even begin to cover it.

Armin and Hange had tried to talk to her, though. The former once, the latter over and over—but Nora always shut down that nonsense fast. Depending on the question, she either deflected, or she was "fine", "alright", or "dealing with it". She repeated those like a broken record until she was left in peace.

The more mundane topics and at least somewhat lighter mood during the meals today were more than welcome. Connie's absence was still palpable; where he would have delivered an egregiously bad joke, there were now holes in the casual conversation. No one brought it up, though. Once or twice, her comrades even chuckled, while she went for a half-hearted grin. Seemed they all needed the break.

The squad didn't know about Ayad's lecture yet; Hange had even offered to keep it secret for an undefined amount of time, until sharing became vital. Saying yes had been tempting, but after some consideration, Nora concluded she wouldn't be able to without a bad conscience; she was always the one all about the truth. Plus, she wasn't the only one affected, and if nothing else, Mikasa and the others deserved to know what would happen to Eren. That he wouldn't die in five or six years already, at least—provided he came back before he got himself killed in Marley. The task of informing them would probably fall to Hange, sometime over the next few days. Levi seemed just about as uninclined to talk about this again as Nora was.

When, after lunch, the others stood up to get back to work, Sasha made use of her spot next to Nora and kept her seated with one hand on her arm. When Nora gave her a questioning look, Sasha whispered, "I was just meaning to tell you… Niccolo talked to me two days ago. He asked how I am, and then he said I could drop by the restaurant for a meal every now and then, if I'd like!" By the end of the sentence, Sasha's voice had reached its regular volume again, her golden-brown eyes shining.

Could it be that Niccolo had actually listened to what Nora had said? Judging by Sasha's barely contained excitement, he must have decided to drop the cold part of the hot-and-cold treatment. A small miracle in the middle of this chaos, she thought—and felt absolutely nothing. The good news fell right into the pit in her stomach. "That's great, Sasha. You're gonna get fat."

"I won't! The captain's relentless." Sasha's expression changed as if she had, with a jolt, realised she had forgotten something important. Her excited blush deepened. "Please, don't comment on this."

Nora almost snorted. "I wasn't going to." Though he really was relentless in every aspect of his life—even on the sideline. Probably itching to either don his gear or whoop all their arses. Two days ago, for example, he had criticised her for not finding the right balance between speed and aim in ODM training—apparently, she was prioritising "having a merry time and zooming around like a loon instead of staying alive". Today, however, he'd been extraordinarily uncommunicative—to the squad's relief. Not so much Nora's.

"Oh, and Niccolo told me to tell you that he hopes you liked the food, back when you met in Shiganshina." Sasha was watching her, puzzled. Understandable reaction.

"That's… unexpected." Nora thought for a few seconds before deciding she neither had the necessary tact nor the right state of mind to deal with that herself. Sasha was better suited. "If you think he wants to hear it, you can tell him it was excellent."

She nodded, still watching with a focus she, outside of missions, usually only deployed during eating or target practice. "You didn't mention that you met."

Well, of course Nora hadn't. Would have been somewhere between uncomfortable and painful for both of them. "It was only briefly. No casualties. No throttling or kneeing in the balls, either."

"Ah." Sasha waited, in vain; this was all the information Nora was willing to volunteer: the necessary one. Once that became clear, Sasha stood up. "Anyway, thank you."

Nora frowned, pondering the things she had said during the course of this conversation. "What for?"

Fiddling with the hair tie holding her ponytail together, Sasha shrugged. "Dunno. I just know it's in order." And the young woman with instincts as exceptional as her metabolism turned, looking back over her shoulder. "You coming?" she asked, with a small smile playing on her lips.

#

Mornings would never be Nora's thing. She either had to deal with the aftermath of the restless, too-short night before, or the day would greet her with an unwanted surprise.

More often than not, both.

She was just finishing braiding her hair back when she was distracted by dark-haired movement in her periphery.

Levi had walked by the open bathroom door—wearing certain black trousers and boots that were very much not casual clothing, paired with a light grey shirt, open at the collar. While she watched, openmouthed, he went to the cupboard and retrieved two sets of harnesses.

He was fucking serious. Bloody hell, she hated surprises.

"Are you insane? It's only been a week since you got out of bed rest, and three in total since the mission!" She wrapped a small hair tie around the end of her braid and stomped out, pulling both harnesses from his grip—or at least she tried; he didn't let go of his.

He rolled his eyes at her, starting to put it on. "Relax. I'm healed. Not even the slightest twinge whatsoever when I move."

Nora stared at the spot—or more like area—of his shirt where his scar lay beneath. His movements had been entirely back to normal for days; swift, fluent, precise, no caution needed. It should not be possible. "Ackerman…" she muttered, shaking her head while fastening the straps and metal clasps of her harness. Ayad would be so excited when he noticed Levi was already back in action that he might piss himself.

When Levi was done with his harness and straightened, ready to go, the reality of what was about to happen really sank in; him, soaring through the air so fast he was only a dark blur, and all that force working on his hips and midriff at every turn, each time he used gas…

Nerves stirred in Nora's stomach. "And you really have to gear up right away?"

Lazily, he stepped in front of her, helping with the last two straps. His knuckles brushed the side of her breast, and just for an instant, the shiver running through her distracted from her queasy stomach. "I would offer you to spar, but I already know your efforts would be half-assed at best, you paranoid brat."

Turned out, anger helped with her nerves, too. He was probably right, but she had a perfectly good reason. Still, he didn't need to know that. Glaring, she said, "No, I'd gladly aim for your abdomen."

Levi shrugged, turning and heading for the door. "Knock yourself out. If you manage to land a hit, I'll congratulate you."

The heat in her chest intensified. "I do hope to see the day," she hissed, following him.

"Don't get optimistic on me." He held the door open, waited for her to step outside.

She brushed past, for some reason excessively careful not to touch him. It didn't feel safe. It rarely did. "Arsehole."

"Bitch," he answered, following suit.

AN: An amazing, loyal reader made wonderful fanart of Nora (plus tea), and I AM ECSTATIC. I can't put images or links here on this site, but if you're curious, you can find it on AO3, where I also post under the same name. Credits go to the lovely dayblindxstars (again, on AO3).