The light had grown stronger now. No longer a blush of gold, but a full-bodied warmth that poured through the infirmary windows and pooled across the floor. It painted the worn tiles in amber and bathed the narrow cot in a gentle halo.
Beatrice lay still.
Her body, still healing, ached in a thousand ways. But her mind was wide awake. Eyes open. Fingers laced with Levi's. And her heart—bracing. Because she had heard everything. Every word he whispered the night before, when he thought she was asleep.
His pain. His confession. His fear. And now she was done pretending she hadn't.
"Levi…" Her voice was quiet. But not weak. Not anymore. He looked up, startled slightly, still lost somewhere deep behind his eyes. But she saw the twitch in his jaw. The clench in his hand.
"What if I don't want to be safe?" she asked.
His brows furrowed, his body going rigid.
"What if I want to stay here? With you."
He didn't answer. He didn't have to. His silence already screamed. But she pushed.
"Even if it kills me."
That broke the dam.
"Don't say that."
His voice was sharp. Pained. Like the words physically hurt.
"Why not?" she whispered. "You're thinking it. Zackly said it. Erwin won't say it, but he knows it too."
"Because it's not a choice I want you to make."
"But it's mine."
She didn't yell. She didn't have to. Every word was a blade—sharp, unwavering, and deeply true.
"I was never safe, Levi. Not before this. Not in the walls. Not in my childhood. I've lived through monsters, and worse. I've been tortured. Forgotten. Treated like a tool. I've bled for people who didn't even look me in the eye. I've survived where no one should've."
He turned away then. It hurt too much to see her say it. But she reached for him. Fingers trembling. Touching his face.
"But with you… I lived. Not just survived. I lived. And I'm not giving that up. Not even for safety."
Flashback
Rain had pounded the forest in endless sheets. The world was nothing but steam, mud, and death. And there, crumpled in the mire like a discarded puppet—Beatrice. Her arms were wrong. Twisted. Her ribs were jagged against her skin. Blood streamed from her mouth, pooling beneath her face in black-red stains.
And Levi—Levi had dropped to his knees so fast he tore through the dirt like a blade.
"Beatrice…"
It was barely a whisper. But it was all he had.
"No. No, no, no—"
His hands had trembled. Trembled. Levi Ackerman.
And when he touched her cheek and she didn't move—not even a flinch—He broke. He screamed at Erwin. At the medics. At the world.
Until someone said—
"She's breathing."
But it didn't feel like a miracle. It felt like a warning. A glimpse of what it would be like if he ever truly lost her.
Back to Present
"I swore to myself," Levi said now, voice low, hoarse, "that if you came back to me, I'd never let you near death again." He looked at her. And this time— There was no mask.
No soldier.
No Captain.
Just a man.
Tired.
Grieving.
Desperately holding onto the last thing that hadn't been ripped from him.
"I almost watched you die. In the mud. In my arms. And I knew… if you went, I'd never come back."
She stared at him. Eyes wide. Breath caught.
And then—
"But I'm not asking to be saved," she said. "I'm asking to fight with you. Like we always have."
His eyes burned. His shoulders tensed. He stepped forward. Took her face in both hands.
"What if I lose you next time?" Her voice was a whisper.
"Then you'll keep living."
"Because that's what I'd want you to do."
He leaned his forehead to hers. Their breath tangled. He was shaking again.
And still—She reached.
Arms wrapping around his neck.
Weak.
Bandaged. But steady enough to hold him.
"I want you," she whispered. "Even if it kills me. I want this. Us. Whatever we are. I want you."
And finally—He breathed.
"Then we do this."
"Together."
That evening, Levi stood in front of Erwin and Zackly. The room was silent. The air heavy.
"She's going."
Zackly narrowed his eyes. "You're sure?"
"I'm not sure of anything," Levi replied.
"Except that if she dies behind the Wall or out here, I'll die inside again, I will be the one grieving her."
Erwin didn't speak.
He just looked at Levi with the quiet understanding of a man who had made this choice once too.
Zackly finally exhaled.
"She's still your responsibility."
"She always has been."
It wasn't planned. But the garden was quiet. And Levi—who never sought peace—had brought her there anyway. Beatrice sat on the bench, her posture careful, her breathing still slow. But she moved on her own now. Ate on her own. Walked, slowly, with grace earned from pain. Levi sat across from her. Elbows on his knees.
Silent. But tense.
She knew something was coming. She just didn't know what.
"There's a transfer arranged."
She blinked. "A… what?"
"You'll be reassigned. Out of the Survey Corps." The air left her lungs.
"Levi, what are you talking about?" He didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
"You'll be sent to the Interior. Military Police protection. Zackly signed it this morning."
Her stomach dropped.
"…You requested it?"
He didn't answer. Didn't have to. Her heart cracked.
"Why?"
"You're not safe here."
"I'm not safe anywhere."
"You are inside the walls."
"And not with you?"
That stopped him. Cracked something in his stare. Still, he said nothing.
"So I'm being sent away," she said, voice shaking.
"You'll be guarded. You'll have a home. You won't have to fight anymore."
"But I want to fight."
"You almost died."
His voice broke. The silence that followed swallowed the world.
She didn't scream. Didn't beg.
She just looked at him and saw-
The way his hands were clenched so tight they'd bled.
The way his breath was shallow.
The way his shoulders refused to relax.
"You're scared," she whispered.
Still—he said nothing. But his silence said everything.
And then—
"You're sending me away because you love me."
He finally looked at her. And in his eyes, every answer she needed.
Her tears slipped out. Quiet.
Unapologetic.
"I don't want to go."
She reached forward. Took his hand in both of hers.
Warm.
Shaking.
Forgiving.
"I'd rather be with you, even if it kills me."
His voice broke.
"And I'd rather hate myself… than see you like that again."
And there, in the wind and the light—between two soldiers who had lost too much and still dared to love—
They sat. Together.
But breaking.
In a way that only those who truly love each other ever do.