Dismal clouds shroud the midday sun, cloaking Scout headquarters in a dreary grey light. As you pass under the stone archway and enter the main courtyard, you feel an inexplicable churning in your stomach. Levi walks calmly, albeit proudly, perhaps reveling in his human war trophy by his side. Other Scouts roam the ground, either failing to catch notice of the resurrected nurse or simply stopping in shock upon the sight of her.
"I'm nervous," you admit, shuffling closer to your partner.
"Why?" He flicks glances at passing soldiers, daring each one to say something. "You beat the odds and came back from the dead. Few Scouts are as remarkable as you."
You lower your volume when you enter a cavernous hallway, your voice easily bouncing off the walls. "I don't know. I feel like I'm in trouble or something."
"You'll be fine. I'm the only one at risk of insubordination." The sound of his gear swinging beside his hips is more prominent than his voice. "They can do whatever they want to me once they're done reeling from the shock of seeing you. I really don't give a shit."
You smile, finding comfort in his indifferent provocation. "You seem like you're looking forward to it."
"Obviously. These doubting fuckers are going to shit themselves."
"Gross," you laugh. "I don't really want to spur that reaction in anyone."
Levi finds an enormous door and heaves it open, helping you into the mess hall where Eld had offered the nurses expensive meat several days prior. You can't believe it's only been a matter of days since you were last in these walls; the time outside had felt like an eternity.
The hall is teeming with soldiers finishing up lunch, the air warm with laughter and conversation. If there's grieving soldiers, they're not motivated enough to come eat.
Levi scans the room in an instant, then mumbles some curse to himself before slamming a mighty fist into the wooden door. The wood splinters from his impact, a slight dent left as a result. "Oi!" he hollers.
The hall drops into silence almost instantly, all heads turning to the signature voice of Levi. They notice him, and they subsequently notice the living nurse beside him. The room seems to swell with newfound energy as shock and disbelief swirl among the soldiers.
Levi's content with the sight. Several dozen faces slapped with the truth of his victory is a pleasant picture for the soldier. "Where's Keith?"
Nobody speaks up, not for a while. You stand shyly beneath the gaze of this hive, unfamiliar with such attention.
"He's in his office." Miche's voice is quiet, but it seems to swallow the otherwise silent room. The section commander rises from his seat and weaves through the rows to approach the arrivals. "Signing death certificates, I believe."
"He'd better fucking hold off on that, then." Levi whips around, satisfied with that answer.
"Just a moment," Miche requests as Levi forces the door open.
You stay where you are, meeting Miche's lofty eyes with the same resolution Levi manifests.
The section commander stands tall, but he doesn't intimidate. He looks over the revenant, impressed with how well she maintained herself. "Welcome back," he rumbles. "You're a formidable Scout, to survive on your own like that."
"Just hid in the windmill." You don't think to salute or address him with any formality. You're separate from the other Scouts, a unique survivor that's endured something nobody else in the regiment can attest to. "Until Levi came back for me."
Miche doesn't have anything to say about that. He eyes Levi, the two legends sharing some secret thoughts in their unrevealing expressions. "It's good to have you with us."
Levi urges you along as Miche returns to his seat. Nobody else speaks to the supervisor, everyone immersed in their own opinions that they're not interested in sharing with you.
In the hallway, you expel a sigh as you keep up with Levi's painstaking pace. "Are you just showing me off?"
"A little." He starts up a flight of stairs, his boots hard against the stone steps. "It'll make the regiment think twice, this little spectacle."
"About what?"
"About the importance of human lives." Levi slows just slightly for you to catch up. "You'd think they'd care, but the jackass leaders of this place are too quick to sacrifice humans. My friends were two of them, and you would've been if I didn't come."
You follow him down a thinner hallway, to the commander's office. "I can't imagine being a leader of the Scouts. I don't know what they go through."
He stops before the office, his fingers snatching the door handle. "Frankly, neither do I."
Throwing the door open, Levi storms into Keith's office with no regard for formality. "Keith," he calls, allowing you to step in with him.
Commander Keith is stationed behind his desk, his enormous fist gripping a quill that halts upon Levi's entrance. His frame is silhouetted as the massive window behind him engulfs him in a blanket of light. He lifts his head, his sunken eyes barely widened as he witnesses the unexpected ghost come back to life.
"Tell me she's dead now," Levi snarls. "Fucking tell me."
Keith's silent, a sturdy dam against Levi's torrent. He's lost for words, and perhaps lost for emotions too.
"So you live," he finally utters, his gravelly voice having lost its power.
"Damn straight she does." Levi stalks towards Keith's desk, a fierce opponent against the gigantic commander. "My efforts paid off. I actually got off my ass and looked for her. I found her. That's more than you—or any Scout—bothered to do."
Keith stations his quill in its stand, his guilty eyes downcast on the table. "What were we expected to do, Levi? Risk more men's lives for the chance she might live?"
"I didn't want to endanger anyone else." Levi's thought about this, and he's ready to argue against the commander. "I was content going alone. You could've at least helped in that effort."
Keith shakes his head. He's hardly struck with the truth of your survival, instead too preoccupied with quelling Levi's argument. "I have to agree with Erwin regarding your value to the regiment. I cannot run the risk of losing our best soldier."
"I'm no different than anyone else," Levi insists, to which you mentally disagree. "People shouldn't be left to die because I'm too precious to spare."
The commander looks down at the death certificates before him, the telltale symbol of his regiment's failure. "Would you have saved Arnel, then?"
Levi stiffens. "What?"
"Or Finn, or Laura, or Stefan?" Keith slides papers aside, reading more and more names of the deceased. "Would you risk your life to go beyond the Walls alone, just hoping they're alive?"
Levi's frowning at the grim papers, uncertain of what to say. "I want to protect as many—"
"I do, too. I don't want soldiers to die." Keith clasps his hands together, bottling up his grief. "But they do. They die and they get left behind. There's only so much we can do." He finds your eyes, his dark irises digging into your soul. "You risked your life because she's important to you. I won't fault that, but I can't extend that dedication to every soldier in the regiment. We've accepted the fact that lives will be lost."
"Damn stupid," Levi mutters. "I don't give a shit about your obnoxious sermon. All I asked for was a little faith."
"If you had asked me a few years ago, I might've provided." Keith takes his quill again, resuming his work. "I've been a Scout for far longer, Levi. I can't have that same starry-eyed dedication to loved ones like you can."
Compared to this grizzled commander, Levi seems to be nothing more than a temperamental child. Both men hold steadfast and reasonable ethics, both a product of their environment.
Levi's done with the unshakable commander. "Aren't you even sorry? The woman you abandoned is standing right in front of you. Don't you have anything to say to her?"
Keith pauses his writing, hesitation racking his mind. He sighs, then shuffles through his papers again. "Usually, death certificates are given to the family of the deceased." Finding his target, he slips out just one paper and extends it across the desk, requesting that you take it. "I don't think I've ever handed a certificate to the very person it's been written for."
You step forward and take the thin paper, reading the script. Scout Regiment runs across the top paired with the emblem, then a blank, vacant gap precedes the sparse block of text.
Your full name fills the line that follows This is to certify that, even complete with a respectful Supervisor preceding your first name.
on the fifth day of the tenth month of the year 844, has been presumed killed in action beyond the Walls.
Stationed Under: Section Commander Erwin Smith
Position: Medical Supervisor
A wide gap, then:
12th Commander of the Scout Regiment,
Commander Keith Shadis
Keith has already scripted his signature above his printed name, sealing his verification of your death.
"Presumed killed," you repeat aloud, morbidly amused by the notion.
"Don't have to presume anymore." Levi crosses his arms as he glances at the text. "You're alive and well."
"The first Scout to receive their own death certificate," Keith says. "Perhaps we'll put up a plaque for you somewhere."
"Yeah, really memorialize the Scouts' lack of faith." Levi sighs, then turns on his heels. "We're speaking to Erwin, then returning to Trost. Send a letter to Dr. Walter Halstein if you want us back."
"Right." Keith resumes his work.
You want to follow Levi, but you can't bring yourself to entirely ignore Keith. An unnoticed nod and a quiet, "Commander," is all you give him before leaving his office.
Levi leads you through the corridors of headquarters, determined to seek out Erwin. His frustration doesn't seem to be soothed after that conversation with Keith, and he's only more motivated to speak with the blond jackass.
You tuck your death certificate into your pocket as Levi comes upon one of the many private bedrooms you had checked into as a Scout several nights prior. Levi raps on Erwin's door before barging in, giving the section commander no privacy or respect. "Erwin."
Erwin's inside, seated at the lone table and situating his doffed bolo tie in a small shadowbox. His head lifts to witness Levi enter, then he emits a low gasp upon the sight of you.
"Supervisor." He's on his feet instantly, perplexity and shock begging to infect his stoic expression. "Supervisor."
"Erwin," you respond, far more placid than him.
Words evade him, and he stiffly clenches his jaw to withhold any further reaction. You notice it easily, and you're starting to feel that haughty pride Levi is brimming with. You've never seen the leader so startled.
"You're alive," he states, almost as if he can't believe his own eyes.
Levi shuts the door, then plants his back against it. "No thanks to you, or the regiment." He's taunting Erwin, proud of his victory over the immovable section commander. "We all just abandoned her without a second fucking thought."
Erwin's unable to think clearly for some time. He's staring at you so intensely you might crumble from his gaze. Levi's words are eating into his mind and screaming at him, showing him the brutal truth of his negligence.
The resurrected supervisor stands before him, alive and well. She's been rescued by the unstoppable Levi, a bright trophy of his power and an undead witness to the true ethics of the Scouts. She represents those soldiers that are left behind, the hundreds of corpses and ghosts that cannot convey their fury towards the regiment. Unlike them, she lives, and Erwin Smith is forced to face the amalgamation of his abandoned troops.
He looks to Levi, searching for whatever emotion is fueling his words. "We did," he admits wholly, pulling his thoughts together. "But we have a job as Scouts. We can't prioritize one Scout over all the others."
"Maybe not." Levi understands that, at least. He, too, was caught up in escaping with the regiment. "But we could've assisted a skilled recon team, at the very least. We could've put faith in one talented soldier willing to risk his life just to check."
Erwin shakes his head slowly. Despite his soldier returning successfully, he will not waver from his stance. "Not one with your level of talent. It's too valuable to risk."
"I don't give a shit about my value—"
"No, but the regiment does," Erwin interrupts. "And so does humanity. I will fight for the benefit humanity over the life of one individual."
Levi scoffs, crossing his arms under his cloak. "Then you'd better hope that individual isn't you one day. Getting killed by your own morals would be a damn shame."
"Perhaps that will be the case." Disinterested in broaching the subject further, Erwin turns to you. "It's good to have you back, Supervisor."
You swallow, reminding yourself of your status over his. He's your section commander, but you're the survivor. "I'm glad to be back inside the Walls," you say evenly.
"Are you resentful, like Levi?" Perhaps Erwin is concerned about the reputation of his regiment, anxious to know the opinion of a woman believed dead. He's never been able to interview such a subject before.
"It's hard not to be," you admit. "I was alone for days out there. I cursed the regiment every damn minute."
Erwin's quiet. He can tell you're not done, and he'll wait as long as it takes for you to continue.
You sigh, reluctant to be honest in the face of this mighty superior. "But I was realistic. I knew you guys didn't have the resources to come look for me. I...I'm not happy with that truth, but I accept it."
He steps forward, requesting entry into your feelings. "I saw that smoke signal, too. Many Scouts did."
"I figured," you mumble.
"But we also saw Titans and danger. Back inside the Walls, we saw the pile of death certificates and the wounded soldiers and the disappointed citizens. I saw all that, and I had to attend to it." He flicks a glance at Levi, envy flickering in his blue eyes. "I don't have the freedom Levi does, to just run off on a whim and rescue soldiers. If I had his independence and strength, perhaps I would've investigated that smoke signal again."
When he looks back at you, you physically stiffen. He's reasserted his intellect and power effortlessly, unintentionally throwing you back into your box of a measly nurse.
"I don't ask for forgiveness. On behalf of the regiment, all I ask for is sympathy. Understand why we did what we did, and why we couldn't return." Erwin passively extends a hand, begging for silent communion. "Grant me that much, at least."
You try to hold resentment, but it feels impossible. They didn't abandon you willingly, just out of necessity. At least someone—at least Levi came. Free from the infinite cage of the outside world, you're absent of overzealous anger or flaring despair.
Forgiving the regiment doesn't feel right, and neither does hating it. You're floating in the middle, discontent with either side.
Erwin has told you what to think. If you can't forgive nor despise the Scouts, you will simply understand them.
You take Erwin's hand in a solid handshake, holding his enormous palm as much as you can. There's a line of thick, pitted flesh cutting across his palm, the healed remnant of the laceration you had stitched up. Feeling the scar, you find an iota of sympathy solely for Erwin, not the Scouts.
He's not close with you, like Levi is. His commitment is solely to the regiment, and to humanity, and he cannot devote as much dedication to one person like Levi can. Relationships are possible for the section commander, but never to the degree of devotion you and Levi share. He will continue to maintain his mind of strategy and war, and you acknowledge that you will separate from him in your world of compassion and intimacy.
"I get it," you breathe. "You've got more things to handle than just me."
"Thank you." Erwin nods, firm against the flood of stress and obligations tormenting him. "Your position in the regiment still stands," he says. "Do you wish to keep it?"
Indecision dominates, your thoughts revolving around that morbid decision. It's harder to make now than it was the first time, after you've already had a taste of the world beyond. Your drive to help others persists, but it's been tainted by this cruel regiment that failed its attempt to guarantee you safety.
You don't know, and you don't want to come to a conclusion. Home is all that you want right now. Levi is all you want. The damn regiment and its risky missions can screw off for a bit.
"I don't know, Erwin." You detach from him, urged to return to Levi's side. "I'm not going to rush to a decision right now."
"Understood." Erwin steps back. "You are always welcome back here."
"...Yeah."
"And Levi," he calls to the soldier. "Do I still have your loyalty?"
"You're not going to lose my loyalty, Erwin. Quit panicking." Levi shoves the door open. "I'm just upset. I wish you would've helped me."
"I know." Erwin sinks back into his seat, stepping off his pedestal. "It simply wasn't beneficial to send my best soldier on a mission with a low chance of success. I couldn't permit your request."
Levi sighs, out of energy to fight. Fury is stronger than rationality, and both are succumbing to pure mental fatigue. "I get it," he grunts. "But—just this once—I had to go against you."
"I understand," Erwin assures. "You won't be penalized for insubordination. You came back safely, and that's all that's important to me."
Levi grips the sleeve of your shirt, keeping you tethered to him. "Whatever. We're going to Trost, so send a letter to Dr. Halstein if you want anything."
"I will," Erwin says. "Safe travels, you two. I'm grateful you both made it back in good health."
"Sure." Levi ushers you out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
The hallway is cripplingly quiet, both Scouts alone yet with each other. You stare at the gaping corridor to your left and despise how hollow it appears. This whole building is a vacant, depressive void, one that you'd rather leave as soon as you can.
"Oi."
When you look back at Levi, that emptiness vanishes. He matches the environment, but he evokes a reassuring aura that wards off any despair or loneliness. Secure comfort blankets you from the mere sight of your partner.
His hand drops to yours, gently grasping your palm. Your thumb finds a place atop his knuckles to accept his connection.
He jerks his chin in the direction of Erwin's door. "Not bad, hm?"
"What?"
"Jackass just about hit the ceiling when he saw you. He's probably cursing himself for getting all flustered." Levi squeezes your hand, excitement morphing into strength. "Seeing him ruffled up like that was such a fucking rush."
"Levi," you scold quietly, a snicker tempted to come forth. "Keep your voice down—he could hear you."
"Let him hear." He tucks his chin down, quick to hide the triumphant smile gracing his lips. The glimpse of such an expression fires excitement through your muscles, and you clench his hand to restrain yourself.
Upon that signal, he lifts his head and reveals his face. His eyes are soft, happy, and the corner of his lips are just barely upturned. It's minuscule, but it's such a splendid, gorgeous sight.
That face, that beautiful face is worthy of the entire world. It's a picture that melts your heart and turns your brain to mush, nothing but fanatical passion surfacing. This joy of his is exhibited only to you, the pride of his efforts and the guardian of his heart. You cherish that joy, that battered joy that seldom emerges amongst the distress assailing him. It's precious, and you'd do damn near anything to witness it more. The essence of his humanity is contained within this perfect smile, and you're utterly obsessed with it.
You're in love with it.
With him.
"Levi," you breathe dreamily, your frame torpefied as you drink in his resplendence.
"I got you back, and I got to tick off that jackass." He draws closer to you, elated in your presence. "Best day of my fucking life."
You chuckle, swamped in his prideful satisfaction. "That's great. Probably the best day of mine, too."
"Let's get out of here," he urges. "I just want to go back to Trost, away from these fuckers."
"Yes, absolutely. I want to go home."
In less than an hour, the horses are retrieved and brought aboard a waiting ferry. The ship takes off, ambling along its wire like an exhausted mule. Silent clouds blanket the sky, just as tranquil as your thoughts.
It's pleasant, not having to fend for your life. While unlatching the saddle of your steed, you bask in the utter safety within the Walls—never has it felt so wonderful than right now. There's no need to look over your shoulder, or scan the landscape, or scream for help. You can simply live without fear of that life being stolen from you.
"There you go," you soothe, petting Cyrus's body. "It's gonna be a long ride, so don't annoy your friend."
"Talking to me or the horse?" Levi, the stealthy spider, slips up behind you with a hand on your upper arm.
"Both." You flash a cheeky grin, educing a small eyeroll from him.
"Snarky little shit," he mutters. "Well, let me know if I get too annoying for you."
"Oh, I don't think you will." Patting his hand, you're struck with the urge to snatch it, to hold his hand like two partners in love. There are people around, though, and he's not prone to engaging in that sort of display. "We've traveled together before; it's pretty nice."
"It is." He steps to your side and braces his forearms on the ship railing. "Whenever you're not bitching about being bored."
"Hey." The small of your back sinks against the railing as you fold your arms tightly. "I didn't complain that often."
"No; you spent the rest of your time fawning over your uniform and how exciting it was to join the Scouts." His voice is monotonous as he taunts you with his perfect recollection of how you had spent the last ferry trip. "I've never seen someone stare at their own clothing so passionately."
"Levi."
He shrugs up his shoulders, side-eyeing you passively. "Just teasing."
With a dismissive sigh, you look over your rather generic outfit that Levi had picked out. "Well, for once, I'm happy to be rid of that uniform for a bit. The Scouts are not my priority right now."
"Yeah," Levi agrees, cursing the very emblem he wears. "They can screw off."
"They can fuck off," you correct, a cocky grin surfacing.
"Oh, yes." His eyes seem to burn with a new light of pure worship, your partner just as elated as you. "You really can swear, nurse."
"It's your fault, soldier." You punch a fist into his shoulder, connecting with iron muscles that barely feel your attack. "You're a bad influence."
"And yet you stay with me," he notes, losing his obduracy.
"Of course I do." You grip the railing with just one hand, situating it close to his forearm. "You're amazing."
"Hm." He glances down at your fingers, hiding any reaction to your compliment. "Well," he begins heavily as if his words can cover up the way he picks up your hand. "I don't know what the hell you see in a jaded asshole, but I'm grateful."
"There's so much—oh." You go quiet suddenly as his lips touch your knuckles, the tiny kiss exploding dynamite in your hand that kickstarts your excited heart.
He breathes against your fingers, tucking his head down to hide the gesture from the other passengers. "Little kid," he chastises.
"W-well—"
"And my face is right here, if you want to strike me for overstepping." He nuzzles his cheek against your knuckles, lining up your potential target.
"No," you refuse immediately. "Not—not at all. You didn't overstep."
Content, he exhales with relief. "Alright."
The ferry chugs on, two of its passengers demurely connecting with each other like lightning should strike them down if they get any more intimate. The world is quiet atop this lumbering boat, merely two partners silently reveling in each other's company.
The trip is long, as always. There's a routine stop partway through, then a downpour of complaints and exhaustion fills the second half of the journey. Levi listens, though occasionally chaffs you for your persistent carping.
When you finally arrive in Trost, the sun is close to setting. It peeks out from between the thinning cloud cover and the horizon, a blinding sphere that is eventually cloaked behind Trost's wall. The ferry plods through the canal under the wall's shadow, returning to your home district.
"Shit," you breathe as you look upon one of the first visible buildings: your house. "Fuck yes. We're...we're home."
Levi stands stably beside you, humming at the sight. "So we are."
Upon another realization, you whip around to see the tucked-away clinic on the other bank. "Oh. Oh! Levi, we—we have to go see Walt. We gotta—"
"We will." He rests a hand on the small of your back, his fingers small but firm. "Let's stable our horses, then we'll go see him."
Corking up your excitation, you stiffly remount your horse and leave the ferry with Levi, itching to just gallop to the clinic right away. He leads you to a community stable, and he has to handle the negotiations with the stablemen since his partner is too occupied with urging him to hurry up.
The streets of Trost lack in pedestrians late at night, giving you a clear path from the stables to Walter's clinic. You're on the verge of sprinting, only hindered when Levi has to throw a hand out and snatch the fabric covering your back.
"Slow down," he commands. "You're going to give the old man a fright if you burst into his clinic so fiercely."
"I know." You're reeled back to his side, impatience barely contained. "I just wanna see him."
"I know you do." Levi keeps up with you, matching your brisk pace. "But you don't want to scare him out of his wits."
Frankly, when you make it to the riverbank, the sight of Walter's clinic shuts off any acknowledgment of Levi's warning. You tear away from him and zoom right up to the door, slamming a fist against the wood.
"Walt!" A hand grabs the door handle, failing to forget that it's already past business hours. The door is locked.
Levi calls your name as he comes up beside you, coaxing you away from the door. "Don't rush him. Just—"
A key works open the lock on the other side, jubilation swelling in your heart at the sound. You shove yourself into the doctor's view as he pushes open the door, overjoyed to see his face.
"Walt! Oh, Walt." You throw yourself at him before he can even speak, hugging him with days' worth of uncured loneliness. "I missed you!"
"You're back!" his thin voice exclaims, his arms wrapping around you. "Oh, thank the heavens! You came back!"
You squeeze his frame until Levi's warning hand on your back urges you to relax, and you do. "Walt, I'm so happy to be back. I'm so damn happy to see you." Pulling back, your grin is unhindered as you see his radiant, homely face. He's suppressing tears, a vain effort.
"Thank you for returning," he says as if you could control your fate. Seeing Levi right beside you, the doctor finds the real reason for your safety. "Levi, thank you." He ambles towards the soldier, his arms outstretched.
"I—"
Levi goes rigid as your mentor embraces him, paralyzed and stupefied. He's a wooden board in Walter's arms, discomfited but too reluctant to turn down the doctor.
"Thank you for bringing her home safe," Walter whispers. "Thank you so much."
"Of—of course," Levi grunts, his arms stiffly at his sides. A loath glance is flicked back at you before he shifts his eyes down to the small doctor. "I said I would."
Walter eventually draws back, his strength already waning. "Come on in, you two. Do you have time for dinner?"
"Of course we do." You follow him in, urging Levi along with a pull on his wrist. Levi's not swayed by your strength, but he steps forward of his own volition.
Shoes step on creaking wood as you drift through the clinic, the cozy business a blessing to your eyes. It's empty of patients and dimly lit, but the blissful amenity of the familiar establishment is glorious no matter the time of day. The two Scouts tread behind the doctor as he ascends the stairs, filtering into his living space.
Levi's encouraged to relax in Walter's home, eventually convinced to take his gear off. He's promoted by you as a remarkable sous chef and prep cook, and soon he's recruited by Walter to work on dinner. You polish Levi's gear as the men cook, shining up the surface of his sheathes and sharpening the blades within. It's a decent skill you had picked up during training, and it's pleasant to tend to Levi's possessions in this small act.
Over dinner, you recount stories of beyond the Walls to Walter, who listens with affrighted breath at every recollection of the horrific beasts and the dangers you faced. You explain how Levi came to the rescue, how Levi argued with Erwin, how Levi took care of the deceased soldier when you couldn't. The men share some sort of trust, some appreciation for each other that recognizes their shared devotion to you.
Nothing revitalizes your spirit quite like the safety of your mentor's home, and a shared meal with him and your loyal soldier grants you joy you didn't know you could feel anymore. You're a pleasant family, a simple trio consisting of a doctor, a soldier, and a blend of the two. Deep in the district of Trost, this content group eats and talks in the company of their cherished ones, safe from naysayers or enemies.