Work Text:
Silence hung in the air like mildew and cobwebs; the awkward ghost of earlier events transpired.
It had been midmorning two days prior; when the gaggle of rookies and his Commander returned, Erwin’s broad figure slumped on his horse and most of his right arm gone. Levi hauled his reckless fool to the infirmary, stress hemorrhaging from him in the form of swearing, but by evening infection had begun its nasty tango through Erwin.
Guttural screams and the frenetic ramblings of a heat (and guilt) addled mind – an endless chant of names and apologies. It was this that causes Levi’s intestines lurch upwards and wrap themselves around his heart; not the all too real, visceral gore of severed flesh, but the fever progressively destroying his Commander’s neurons and infamous composure. When Erwin’s shields begin to disintegrate, Levi finds himself scrambling to reinforce his own walls.
One moment of clarity sticks out amongst the hysteria – If I were a horse, you should shoot me.
“You’re not a fucking horse.”
How they’ve changed, Levi wonders idly – not just the slivers of grey encroaching on the crown of Erwin’s head or the crow’s feet which stamp the corners of Levi’s eyes. At the start, he’d been a distant target that Levi had been promised a ridiculous sum to eliminate – some laughable, too perfect cupboard cut out. The pathetic cliché of constant near death experiences among other things breeds intimacy, and Levi’s loyalty slid into Erwin’s magnificent hands.
Whatever lies between them now is a vast nameless being – its fathomless chasms devouring any words that attempt to place a moniker on it. Co-dependency is probably the closest to being an accurate term, and even that is not enough. They’re private creatures, and what is left unspoken swells underneath their skin – feelings intensified by the lack of release.
Steadily, the fever begins to dissipate; providing Erwin’s body the peace needed to heal, and a small part of Levi allows himself to hope.
One day.