Chapter 41: Hide Your Fear; Lie, My Dear

She had been wrong, so wrong. It hit her unprepared.

One second, she was lying in bed, drowsy, safe in the knowledge that Levi was sitting in the room right next to hers, doing something as mundane as paperwork. Separated only by a wall and an ajar door; just enough warm light trickled in from the office to infuse Nora's surroundings with a hint of colour, while leaving her corner fairly dark; perfect for sleeping.

In theory.

Because the next second, out of nowhere, a wave of hot-cold dread rose from her stomach to her throat, sweeping along bile. When her vision narrowed and turned grainy, she threw back the blanket and dashed into the bathroom.

Nora was on her knees and hugging the toilet before she could pass out, feeling her palpitating heart against the cool ceramic. This is the end, her body told her. This won't stop. Her brain, on the other hand, fed her images of blood and gunshot wounds and death. Of future what-if scenarios.

She forced herself to think practical things instead, leaving her eyes wide open, struggling to hold onto reality. Let her brain and body do their bullshit once again until they calmed the fuck down.

Did she need to puke? Well, if she continued to think of it, probably.

Cuddling the toilet on the cold bathroom tiles wasn't the prudent thing to do while wearing no more than her comfiest pair of knickers. But she sure wouldn't start wearing clothes to sleep in the middle of summer just because she was broken. At most she would, once it got less obnoxiously hot, steal a used shirt from—

Shit. Levi. She was no longer alone at night, hidden away as the pathetic came out.

Fortunately, she still had the presence of mind to turn on the shower—all the while hyperventilating and shaking. Nora went to the mirror, bracing her hands heavily on the sink. The woman staring back at her looked so normal. Tired and a little upset, but not like she was about to fucking lose her shit.

It'll pass. It always does. Mostly.

She waited, staring at her own dark irises, unblinking. She had to pull herself together and get out of here.

There was no magic cure. His return had only bought her a few days of reprieve. As much as Levi was a miracle to her—and she didn't even believe in miracles, as a rule—even he couldn't dispel the ghosts of her past haunting her. He couldn't change what had happened, what was etched in her mind forever. At most—and she desperately hoped this would continue to be the case—his presence reduced the frequency of her panic attacks.

Breathing was easier now. Most of her nausea had abated. Her heart rate was only doubled instead of tripled.

Nora let out a long breath through her mouth, turned off the shower, and, after flushing the toilet to waste some more water, went back into the bedroom.

When she opened the door, Levi greeted her with narrowed eyes, upper body bare, shirt in hand. "Why were you in there so long?"

"Hopped in the shower. I got my period all of a sudden. It was like a massacre." Technically not a lie, just not the answer to his question. She had hopped in the shower because she had got her period all of a sudden. That afternoon. She'd never have thought periods could come in handy.

"And that's why you look like hell?" Levi came to stand in front of her, his relentless scrutiny almost making her squirm. "You're pale as death." He laid his palm on her forehead, like he'd done a select few times—okay, exactly twice—when she'd been particularly whacked from shifter training. Judging by the fluttering in her belly the simple touch elicited, she was quite sure she was already starting to resemble death a little less.

"I have cramps," she explained. Again, not a lie. He didn't look convinced, though, even as he lowered his arm, apparently satisfied with her body temperature, at least. Nora forced herself to return his frown. "Stop gawping like that. It's creepy."

It took him five intense, silent seconds until he complied with a sigh that was really just a barely audible puff of air out of his nose.

Then, he pulled his shirt back on—which was very much not the right procedure at this point. Outrageous; he was supposed to shuck his sodding trousers and go to bed with her.

"Where're you—"

"Be right back," he said, already halfway out the door leading into the corridor.

###

By the time he returned, Nora was back in bed where she belonged, but propped against the headrest, blanket up to her armpits. Still too pale for his taste; seemed like the rosy colour in her cheeks wouldn't return all that soon.

Levi dropped the hot-water bag he'd brought in her lap, made a quick detour to the bathroom, then held out a painkiller and a glass of water for her. She took the offered items slowly, after a moment of stillness—but her expression didn't fit her reluctance at all.

It wasn't the first time he had done this—and he didn't see what the big deal was anyway—and still she looked at him like he had just single-handedly won the war.

And made him feel like he had just single-handedly won the war. Fucking ridiculous. She was so infuriating. How the hell was he supposed to ever think straight in her vicinity?

"Don't get so emotional over nothing, woman." For his own good, he looked away from her face to he could not say where, trying to get a goddamn grip. "Tsk. Hormones…"

When he deemed it somewhat safe to look again, it was like a curtain had been drawn; her face had closed off, features tight. Not the expected indignation, just… shutting herself away. Again. Goal achieved, he supposed. Well done.

"Yeah," Nora said, voice flat. "Great tip."

###

When, at supper, the chair across from Levi and her was pulled back noisily, Nora didn't even lift her head. Nor did she as Hange took her seat just as noisily as usual.

A newspaper was pushed across the table, right to her bowl of soup. That made her look up—and she found that Hange was very much not Hange, but a stocky man with rumpled black curls. Ayad had the nerve to grin at her, after a long and busy day, while interrupting her and Levi's peace. Who, of course, was already glaring at the intruder.

Had Ayad overnight decided they were friends, or what? Nora dismissed the notion after a short glance at the newspaper.

On the hunt, then, once again, after tasting blood.

"I can't say I'm disappointed." Needlessly, he pointed at the word 'Colossal' in the article. "Regardless, my condolences to you. You drew the short straw. Figuratively spoken."

"Why?" asked Levi without missing a beat, sharp and demanding.

"The Colossal is particularly straining on the human body. You surely must have noticed?" Ayad's head moved back and forth between them, their expressions likely as incriminating as their silence.

He simply nodded that off and directed his attention back at the newspaper, reading upside down. What would be the best course of action, Nora pondered; ask him to elaborate and, as a trade-off, reveal details about her powers, or shut up and ignore the nosy bastard?

Before she could decide, he looked up, mild curiosity glinting in his eyes, his smile deceptively harmless. "So, Weiss is your last name? I assumed it was Ackerman."

"Why—oh." Shit. Her heart did an alarmed flip, eyes flickering to the man sitting next to her. "No. No, we aren't—" And that was it. Taken off guard like that, the silly little word wouldn't come out. Instead, she found herself shaking her head over and over like a blithering idiot.

Levi minutely raised a brow at her before fixing his cool gaze on Ayad. "We aren't married, you dimwit." He lifted his hand with the back facing Ayad, tapping his bare ring finger. "Not that it's of any concern to you." Levi picked up his fork and took another bite of his meal.

"Could have fooled me. You are behaving like a cranky old couple." Ayad shook his head at them, smiling as if he were an old friend who had enough of their shit. "Why not? Above everyone else, people like you should know how precious and limited time is."

Alright, add to that description a curious friend who had problems with boundaries.

Shit—he behaved like Hange. But only Hange was allowed to behave like Hange.

"Because…" Nora realised quickly that any answer she could give was a potential minefield.

Drat; the lack of an answer might just be as dangerous. Levi hopefully didn't think that she now expected…?

No, he knew her. And she knew that he just wouldn't, either way.

Others her age led a normal, reasonably safe life inside the Walls. Most were married, had children, already. Even many Garrison and MP soldiers settled down by the time they turned thirty.

She'd probably not get much older. And, looking at the man by her side, she thought screw it.

She didn't even need any of that. She did not and had never wished to start a family. Hell, the thought made her shudder.

However—since she had him, some of the things she wished or did not wish for might have changed. She wasn't sure about everything. The thought was so abstract; domestic shit like that wasn't in the cards, anyway. Otherwise, it would freak her out more than just a little. As things stood, it was pointless and painful to think about, and definitely pointless to sign some stupid document just to change her last name, at present as well as in general.

Nora spoke at last, feeling too hot, even though she had settled for the shortest, truest answer she could think of. "It makes no difference."

"What use would it be?" Levi said at the exact same time.

Ayad's brow furrowed as he stared back at Levi, slack-jawed. "Are you really asking what the benefit of a marriage would be?"

Levi crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking bored—in other words, his face was unreadable. "Maybe I am. Do tell. What would be the benefit of a marriage between two Survey Corps soldiers?"

Ayad huffed a laugh. "I was pointing out that lovers usually don't marry because it benefits them."

This was surreal enough that Nora could almost ignore her pounding heart and the flush in her cheeks. "Doc, you surprise me. Not what I would have expected from someone so opportunistic it borders on sociopathy. And here I thought romance was dead." She followed Levi's example and made quick work of the last few bites of her meal. It didn't matter that she didn't taste much.

"What can I say?" Somehow, Nora knew Ayad well enough already to hear the impish smile in his voice. "Even inside the hardest shell hides a soft core. Isn't that right?"

He looked at her for a beat too long before his gaze settled on Levi. Outrageous; how was her shell hard? Her shell was perfectly normal. No need to dwell on her slushy core, though.

Levi's expression had darkened, if because of the accusation—observation—or because of something else, Nora couldn't say. "I'm done with chitchat."

That, she could more than get behind. "Me too." She rose from her chair, reaching for her tray.

Quick as a snake, Levi's hand had clamped down on her wrist before she even made it halfway. "No. Stay," he ordered, as if she were a dog. Keeping his eyes on Ayad, he pulled her back into her seat. Her glare would have been for nothing either way; Levi evidently was in no mood to care about something as insignificant as her ire. "I wanna know all you know about the damage a shifter's powers do to them," he said to Ayad.

Some of the mirth drained from the scientist's eyes, leaving behind a cooler, shrewd glint the warm dark brown couldn't compete with. "Your interest is of a purely professional nature, I presume?"

"Talk, old man. I don't want to sit here with you till bedtime. And Hange'll be a little miffed if I threaten to break your nose." Still reclining in his chair, Levi crossed his legs, the picture of ease. "I might just get a slap on the wrist if I go through with it."

Ayad gave a haughty smile, clearly calling his bluff—or was it, in the long run, depending on how their 'collaboration' went? "Don't you think that, if I felt inclined to do so, I would have elaborated of my own accord instead of entertaining myself on your behalf?"

Levi had his answer at the ready. "If you're only half as sharp as you play it, you know that you can only win: more of our goodwill, possibly learn something new about this nutty, deadly weapon here." The bastard indicated Nora with a lazy flick of his hand, again not even offering her the basic courtesy of acknowledging her increasing vexation. If what he was saying weren't so essential, she'd already have punched him. Or tried to. "All that while having nothing to lose for giving up the information. Am I right?"

All three of them were quiet for a few seconds, the clattering of dishes and the voices filling the hall coming to the forefront. Then, Ayad chuckled, all the rebellious stubbornness vanishing just like that. "Brawn and brain, eh? I suppose one should never underestimate Ackermans."

Levi just asked, "So, what's up with the nosebleed? The headache, the nausea, the fatigue?" This time, his inscrutable gaze lingered on her. "Sure, it passes, but don't tell me that's it, no harm done."

How did he know about the nausea and the headache? She'd been careful to hide the invisible repercussions of shifting. His brows knitted in displeasure; he was reading her thought process right from her face. Perceptive bastard.

"No," Ayad said, quieter. "It leaves… marks."

Levi nodded, all business. "Then what happens to a shifter, in the long run?"

"Have you lot never even heard what they say about the curse of—"

"Come on," Nora interjected, her patience long since spent—somewhere during the tedious marriage talk. "Aren't you supposed to be a scientist? Ymir's curse is a myth, right?"

A split-second widening of his eyes. Even Ayad's poker face had its weak spots. "Why would you think that?"

Nora was running short of ideas; she had not been prepared for the turn this evening had taken. Shit, she'd never been as quick on her feet as Levi, who remained silent as well, waiting for her to make the call. Maybe because it was her father.

Nora heaved a sigh. "Information from someone whose memories couldn't be wiped."

"Really?" He leaned in a little, hand on the edge of the table. "A noble then, and one who must have been close to the royal family. Where is this knowledgeable fellow?"

"Dead, of course." Her answer was immediate, curt. Perfect for the relief she felt that the shrewd man left it at "noble", for once not sensing that there was much more behind it. Ayad only blinked, for a moment taken aback—until he seemed to remember where he was and whom he was talking to. Once he had collected himself, offering a wry smile, Nora prodded, "So?"

"You are correct. It's a Marleyan fairy tale. Much easier to control their Warriors that way. Who would volunteer to let themselves be eaten with the knowledge that they wouldn't have to die, regardless?" He paused, regarding her pensively. "That soon, at any rate."

"'That soon'…" Nothing in Levi's expression changed. "How long?"

"Well, shifters can regenerate even otherwise lethal damage at an immensely fast pace, meaning their cell division rate is incredibly high, especially when there is damage of any kind to mend. And this is where it gets tricky; infections and trivial diseases aside, repair mechanisms are always active during cell duplication, leading to—"

"Get to the point, old man." Something about the set of Levi's jaw was different, lending his tone a terseness that hadn't been there before.

"No," Nora said, ignoring the lump in her throat. "I want to hear that."

Ayad seemed piqued—Levi's efficiency had its disadvantages—but indulged her. He could say what he wanted and play the tactician all he wanted; it was evident he was enjoying himself, talking titan science. "I was almost done. I think. The point is that, aside from the considerable strain of transforming, a shifter's body constantly repairs itself. It's called passive regeneration. Those permanently increased repair processes—at a rate no normal human would ever reach—put continuous strain on the body, causing a minuscule amount of lasting damage with each cycle. Hence, it adds up, and the power fails eventually, leaving the former shifter with a body that is, inside, much older than it should be." His eyes darted back and forth between them, clearly waiting for them to digest the information. Good luck with that. "As you already seem to know, the power remains usable for about thirteen years. After that, it is done; the cells and their repair mechanisms are irrevocably damaged, and the body has already begun to deteriorate. The shifter doesn't have that long left."

This time, the silence was heavy, stifling. By now, the mess hall was almost deserted.

It doesn't matter, anyway. You already knew that you're living on borrowed time. Erwin's time.

Nora really did not want to check Levi's expression. She swallowed, wetting her dry mouth. "How do you know all this?"

"Research, of course. Marley has done quite a lot of it in the past one hundred years, you see." At this point, she didn't even care about the return of Ayad's patronising attitude.

"All that chin-wagging and you still didn't manage to answer my question, jackass." Levi's flinty eyes were piercing through Ayad's. His posture was upright now, rigid. "How. Long."

The swagger left the scientist's expression. "I can only extrapolate from the observations already made so far, and the physical deterioration doesn't progress in a linear fashion once the powers are acti—"

"Just say how long I'll have," Nora said before Levi lunged at the doc. She could feel his barely contained fury prickling her skin like an electric current.

"How old were you when you inherited the Colossal Titan?" asked Ayad.

"Twenty-eight."

"In that case, you likely won't see more than fifty. It also depends on how often you make use of your powers. And the last few years' quality of life would leave much to be desired; you'd be dependent on other people caring for you. I'm sorry."

Now that last sentence was particularly amusing, not only because of who'd been talking, but also because the matter his apology concerned was barely more than a shitty blip on Nora's radar. It was only logical. She smiled joylessly. "No, you aren't, and that's alright. I don't need empty platitudes from anyone."

"Truly, I…" He broke off, shaking his head as if he were startling out of a trance. "Never mind."

"Funny," Nora said flatly. "If not for this war—because I won't make it that far, anyway—so, if not for that, it would exactly be like it was with my mother. Even the age fits." The world's funny like that, Levi had once said. Hard agree.

"What happened to your mother?" Ayad asked.

"She deteriorated," Nora said, borrowing his apt description. That was more than sufficient for the wretched subject; she had to stay focused and factual, here. Her frozen insides helped. The accompanying strange, cold sense of hopeless disappointment did not.

Damned either way, trapped either way. No real happy ending in sight, not even the mere possibility, no matter how tiny the chance. It was like going to the doctor in pain, already knowing something was very wrong—and then they'd confirm it, and tell you what was wrong.

But she had always preferred the truth, even if it boiled down to pointing out a trap door you hadn't previously been aware of, right beneath your feet; it was there if you knew or not. The only difference was that you could prepare for the fall.

In that vein, there was one more thing, one essential thing, she needed to know just in case. "Would… would I be… aware of what's going on till the end? Or would I forget who I am?"

"It's likely you'd stay lucid until the very end. It's more an issue of the body giving out. You might have noticed how the central nervous system in titans is… different."

"You said the decay isn't linear," Levi spoke up abruptly. "How?"

"The last few years of a shifter's term are the worst in that regard. The decline grows steeper over time; the more damage has been done, the more the powers are utilised passively. It's positive reinforcement."

Nora went through numbers in her head. Hers. Eren's. Hers a second time. "So a shifter in his, let's say, tenth term has suffered significantly less damage than one in his thirteenth."

"Precisely." Ayad got that glint in his eyes she knew too well—just not from him, first and foremost. "I, myself, once ran tests on a subject in the scope of my work, and the decline worsens considerably after eight to ten years. What happens from then on is the main problem."

Nora nodded, eyes averted to her empty plate. What else was there to say? Thanks, that doesn't help us win this war in the least, but good to know I'm fucked either way?

Broken down like that, nothing surprising.

"I suppose thanks are in order, old man," Levi said, not sounding grateful at all. He sounded like nothing.

But had he just really thanked the doc, someone he didn't even like? If Nora had still been eating, she'd have choked on her bite. Levi stood before she could catch up.

"Hey, wait!" Ayad screwed up his face in indignation. "What do I get for my exceptional helpfulness?"

"You can discuss that with Hange. I don't give a shit." Levi poked Nora's shoulder. "You, come."

Like no one else, he managed to make her focus on the present instead of a hypothetical future. The present where he was a commandeering prick—again—who pissed her off. "Know what? I don't think I—" He turned and was off, clearly not interested in what she had to say. She sat for a few seconds, stewing. Ayad watched her, bewildered. Or curious. Or both.

As if her dignity had a chance here, with how Levi had left, had looked, had from head to toe radiated… disquiet. It had been palpable throughout the conversation, worsening the longer it went on, signalled by a variety of things about him she consciously or subconsciously picked up on.

"Oh, fucking hell." Nora's chair scraped noisily as she rose.

She left their captive-colleague and hurried after her boyfriend.

Who might or might not be disquieted.

AN: Bad news, sorry. Also sorry for letting my scientist show here. Hope your eyes didn't glaze over. I tried to rein myself in.