Wild Card || Levi x Reader

twenty-two: you're headed for heaven

Levi hums. "We go home."

"We go home," you echo.

So close, yet so far.

"Go to sleep, idiot," Levi mutters. "You need all of your energy for tomorrow."

You know you do. You doubt you'll be able to sleep, but you hum in acknowledgement anyways and bury yourself further into Levi, knowing that if you don't sleep, at the very least, you'll be able to enjoy Levi's comfort for a bit longer.

As you predicted, you don't sleep. Levi doesn't either. But he doesn't say anything about it, and neither do you.

.

Suiting up for what could theoretically be your final mission is strange.

Hange fits you with a modified uniform, which isn't all that strange, because Hange's always the one to get you ready. Sure, the uniform itself is a bit different than what you're used to, only because of the nature of your role, but the buzz and excitement in the air is on another level entirely.

You can hear the whispers. The war could be won today. It could all be over today- it will all be over today.

"And, done!" Hange says proudly, patting the shoulders of your heavy cloak. "Okay, we finally got some of that work done on your armor- so you can handle a taser or those zappy sticks that the Capitol idiots have."

"But don't go running into crossfire, right?" you joke dryly as you pull your cloak tighter around your shoulders.

"Yeah, none of that." Hange spins to grab something from a nearby table, then turns back to you. "Alright! Bow!"

You take your bow from them. You'd spent a while with the weapons team yesterday testing out what they'd come up with and picking your favorite one: lightweight with minimal alterations. You don't need fancy things to help you shoot. "Quiver?" you ask.

Hange grins sheepishly. "We should've put that on before the cloak. Here, spin."

You turn around and Hange pulls your heavy cloak off. You roll your shoulders once before they help you slide your quiver over one shoulder and onto your back. You take your bow from them next, sliding that into place, then throw the cloak back overtop.

You turn back to Hange. "How awkward does it look?"

"You could be a hunchback," Hange says thoughtfully, adjusting your cloak slightly. "It's fine. Just a bit bulky. Can you still grab your arrows?"

Frowning, you reach over your shoulder as you normally would and the cloak interferes. "I'm ditching the cloak the second I get a chance."

"Of course you are. Just make sure you're set up, okay?" Hange sighs softly, pulling the cloak hood up and fidgeting with the edge of it. "And you've got the arrow colors down?"

You roll your eyes. "The red-feathered ones blow stuff up. Yellow is the special one. The rest are regular arrows. I've got it."

They sigh. "I know, I know, but I worry. I'm like a mother hen." They pat your shoulders, then squeeze. "You take care of yourself," Hange says clearly. "Remember, you're our Mockingjay."

"They couldn't kill me if they tried," you say, putting your hands on top of Hange's and squeezing. "I got it."

"Good." Hange reaches into their pocket and pulls out a pin- the pin you wore in the arena, the pin that indicated you and Levi were allies. They reach under your cloak and clip it onto one of the straps of your armor, up around your shoulder. "There. Come home safe, and then we'll pick our favorite Capitol building, sit on the roof, and drink mimosas."