Archive of Our Own

Levi was five years old and eating a bowl of macaroni when it crashed into him.

It wasn't much unlike the time his mother had taken him to the ocean and a wave rushed to shore, smacking him in the face, the sand shifting under his heels as he slipped under.

One moment he was digging around in his bowl past the broccoli bits his mother had put in, listening to her hum as she washed dishes, and the next he was in another body, and another time, smelling the grime, dust, and rot. Sitting with his knees under his chin, curled close to himself in an attempt to stay warm as he looked at the bed. She was laying there, for what had seemed like forever. It smelt like death and he was hungry and tired and cold and thirsty. He had tried to wake her for hours already, and he knew – she was dead.

The spoon fell from Levi's hand, landing with a wet, orange splat before clattering, and he screamed .

His mother startled, the metal pan banging against the sink as she ran around the counter to him. Her fingers were still wet and soapy as she grabbed him, turning his chair and body to face her. "Levi?" she asked, voice edging hysteria. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

His screams fell away to sobbing, big, wet tears streaming down his face as he choked on his sobs. "Mommy," he wailed, throwing his arms around her neck and holding on tight. He held on for all his worth, his tiny body wracking with his sobs.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she begged him.

Levi couldn't do anything else but sob. "Mommy." First, Levi had been afraid, seeing his mother's rotting face turned towards him against the pillow in the dark red room. Then it was just the overwhelming feeling of sadness and loneliness. Even as his mother held him, and he could feel the heat of her body, the quickened beat of her heart, he could still feel the gaping, cold ache like a black hole in his chest from the memory of the loss he had experienced.

Levi did not stop crying, even after a few minutes had passed and his mother gently pried his arms off her neck. His fingers twisted into her shirt and he pressed his face into her stomach until his tears soaked the cotton. "Mommy… Mommy..."

She hushed him and stroked his head, cradling him against her and whispering to him, desperately trying to coax him into calming down. Eventually, she picked him up, like she used to when he was little and before she started teasing him for getting too big. He tucked his face into her neck and squeezed his legs around her, whimpering for her between sobs. "Oh, baby," she choked out, fingers digging into his hair, pulling at the roots in his scalp but he still didn't pull away. "Okay, okay, baby. It's okay. I'm here. Mommy's here." She hiked his legs up over her hips and carried him into the living room to sit with him on the couch.

He clung to his mother for hours, and, even when the tears ceased coming, his body still trembled with distressed sobs and whines and his fingers dug little bruises into her arms. He kept mumbling against her skin, begging for her to stay, please don’t leave him, Mommy please wake up. After an hour, she broke down herself, frustrated tears falling into his hair. "Baby, it's okay. It's okay, just please calm down. I'm here. I'm here," she pleaded. Levi just whimpered and rubbed his face into her neck, wet, flushed, and humid.

Levi’s voice grew hoarse, his eyes became tacky and swollen, but the whines never ceased, and his grip only loosened with exhaustion.

It hurt, remembering. He didn’t know what he was remembering, and yet he felt it. He knew the pain, had felt it before but couldn’t remember when. It pulled at his stomach and choked him and it hurt so bad he felt like he was going to burst. It felt like the saltwater that rushed into his mouth and up his nose until his mother had pulled him from under the wave. He had coughed up the mucky water and cried as his mother pat his back and soothed him.

It wasn’t enough this time, though. Even as she held him, he could still feel the hurt, felt like his throat was cracking and bleeding from thirst and his stomach was hollow from hunger. He could smell the ghost of her flesh rotting in his nose, even as it burnt from the strength of her perfume. It was confusing and it scared him.

Sleep was a thick, heavy blanket that pulled over him. A soft hand that smoothed the wrinkle between his brows and brought the peace of nothingness to his mind.

When he woke, he was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Levi pushed himself up with his hands and looked around the room, whining when he didn’t see his mother. The distressed noise died in his throat when he heard voices in the kitchen.

“Are you sure he’s okay? He was crying for hours . I couldn’t get him to stop. It was worse than when he was teething, Doctor.” His mother’s voice was thin, like she was going to cry, and Levi wanted to hug her.

“Kuchel,” a man’s voice said softly. “I assure you he’s okay. He’s not physically hurt. I do… have a theory. It’s uncommon and might be far-fetched, but–”

“Tell me,” Kuchel begged. “I just want to know how to help him. I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“You said he was crying for you, begging you to wake up, not to die…” The voice trails off and pauses. “It’s uncommon, but not unrecorded. I think your son is remembering his previous life.” Kuchel made a strangled noise in response. “I know it doesn’t provide comfort; he’s very young to be experiencing this, but I would be remiss not to offer it as a possibility. It might also be that he saw a scary movie, but you don’t have a television and I find it less likely. Children don’t typically react to movies with this amount of fear.”

“Oh my god,” Kuchel sobbed. Levi wiggled in the blanket, trying to get free, legs wobbly when he stood. He toddled to the entryway for the living room, peeking around the corner of the wall, pressing his face against the cool plaster. She was standing in front of a doctor with long hair and glasses, and he placed a hand on her shoulder as she cried into her hands. “What could he have seen, to be that scared?”

The man moved a little closer to her, squeezing her shoulder. “We won’t know until he’s older and can talk about it. I know it’s difficult, trying to scare away a monster we can’t see. We can do little more than hold them as they cry and hope we give them comfort.”

“Mommy,” Levi croaked out.

Kuchel looked up and the doctor stepped back as she held her arms out for him. “Levi, baby,” she said softly, “I thought you were still sleeping.”

Levi ran to her, tripping on his own feet and knocking into her legs. “I missed you,” he told her, voice breaking with unshed tears. She made a wounded noise before crouching and hugging him close.

“I missed you too, baby,” she whispered. “But I’m here, okay? Mommy’s right here. I’ve got you.” He pressed his face into her chest and his arms shook with the way he held onto her, hugging her with all his might.

The man picked up his bag and smiled when Levi turned to look at him. “I have a couple friends that specialize in past life memories,” he told Kuchel. “I’ll reach out to them to see if they have time to meet with Levi. I’m worried that not having a way to express what he remembers, especially this young, will affect him negatively. I think he would benefit from having a specialist.”

Kuchel stood, allowing Levi to hold onto her thighs as she nodded and reached out for the man’s hand. Levi watched as their hands clasped and shook. “Thank you for everything, Dr. Jaeger.”

Levi was twelve when he remembered Eren for the first time.

He had been going to his memory specialist for about seven years, learning a lot about what he had been remembering. The days he had spent in the room with his mother’s decaying body had only been the beginning.

He hated it.

Levi was diagnosed with insomnia, paired with episodic, dissociative memory triggers. Apparently his mind was so stupid and messed up that he couldn’t just remember his past life; instead, he had disordered flashbacks where he lost sense of himself and his current reality. Realistic episodes in which Levi was himself from his past life. He experienced every memory flashback as it happened to him before. Meeting a girl with red hair and a man with a soft smile, and the three of them fighting for everything they ever had. One moment knowing them and seeing them alive, and the next he’s back to himself, alone, knowing they’re dead and he hasn’t ever met them.

They haunted him like ghosts, shadows tailing him throughout the day. It made him angry that he couldn’t look at a bird in its nest walking to school without feeling like his chest had been ripped open.

On top of the yawning ache that grew in his chest with every episode, recently, anytime Levi found himself finally able to sleep, he’d started having nightmares about man-eating giants and being covered in blood.

Then there was Eren.

Levi had been in class, taking a mathematics test when the memory came to him. His body was older, stronger, tired to the bone. He was exhausted, his muscles aching and sore, but this was life. The pain meant he was alive and had survived. He sat at the table downstairs in the dining hall, leaning over a cup of tea. It was late, and he couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t something unusual; sometimes, Levi felt like he could never sleep. Fatigue was so common to him that it felt sunk into his bones.

Under his skin, there was an empty hurt, a hollowing in his heart that he had become too familiar with. They had lost more people in this last expedition. He had watched his men be snatched from the air and swallowed whole, some munched on and broken to pieces before being left to burn alive in a hot bath of decomposition and rot, only to be puked up like waste. Their already low numbers were being hacked away with every venture outside, but they persisted. They had to.

Because of him.

Eren was across from him, with his own cup of tea. Glowing in the light of the oil lamp. The boy looked drained, eyes set deep into his face, a dark shadow cast over him. There was a deep sadness that pulled on his body, made him sink into the chair he sat in and curl his shoulders forward. Beyond Levi’s own hurt, he wanted to comfort the boy in front of him. It felt like every day he was slipping further into himself, and Levi felt more like he was watching him wither away.

It was like watching a flower wilt and die.

He wanted to reach across the table and caress his face, cup his cheek and smooth the worrying lines between his brows and rub the downturned corner of his lips. Instead, he tightened his grasp over his teacup and took a small sip.

Levi knew Eren would welcome it, sink into his hands and melt under his touch. Where Levi was walled up and kept his wants buried deep in his stomach, Eren was wide open with his emotions, with the desire that sparked like fire in his eyes.

No, Eren would not turn away from Levi if he reached for him now, or tomorrow, or the next day. Levi, however, knew their responsibilities. Eren would die for humanity, but could care less about politics. He’d fight, spitting and yelling, if he knew the reason Levi refused to reach for him was because of their duty. Levi was bound to the Survey Corps, chained to Eren as his executor, not his lover. Levi’s duty was to kill Eren if he needed to. And he would, despite the agony it would cause him. He would kill Eren simply because he knew Eren would want him to.

And Eren loved so wholly and devotedly already. If Levi were to touch him, hold him the way he truly wanted to, Eren would never accept that Levi’s life meant less than his.

So Levi took another drink from his teacup and let out a soft sigh, watching the way Eren lifted his eyes to him. “You can honor their deaths by continuing to fight.” This was the only way he allowed himself to reach out to the boy. Stoke the determined fire of resentment and revenge. He’d rather watch Eren burn with vengeance than to watch him sink in despair.

Eren sat up straight, eyes glowing bright in the reflection of the oil lamp. His spine straightened and his shoulders squared. “Yes, Captain,” he said, voice trembling with emotion towards the end. “I’ll kill every last one of them.”

Yes, Levi would watch Eren kill every last titan. He would live long enough to see Eren fulfill this one wish, before holding him for the first and last time as he killed him, the last titan. Then Levi would go to the ocean, and see it in his place.

After that, Levi would have no other reason to live.

The pencil snapping in his hand brought him back. He took in a deep, almost panicked breath, and shoved himself back from his desk. It made a horrible screeching sound along the linoleum and he scowled when the heads of his classmates whipped up and towards him.

“Levi?” his teacher asked, quiet and concerned. “Are you okay?”

His fists shook, fingernails digging into his palms, his jaw tight and clenched, teeth grinding. He swallowed, looked wildly around at all the other kids looking at him, and then made for the door. Levi didn't even stop when he smacked into the chair of one of his classmates, causing it to skid a little and them to gasp.

Levi just stumbled forward, caught himself, and rushed out the door, letting it smack against the brick wall as he took off running down the hallway. Both the door to the bathroom and the stall he fell to his knees in banged against the walls with a thunderous noise. The sound of him getting sick was loud and echoing in the empty room.

He could imagine it, could remember imagining what it would be like to hold Eren in his arms and what it would feel like to slide his sword into his chest. Had he done that? Had he killed this boy – the one that looked so beautiful in the oil lamp, that Levi would remember what it was like to love?

Levi knew he was a killer. He knew he killed and hunted to survive. He had to; it was different than this. That was for Isabel and Farlan.

But Eren – beautiful, glowing Eren was good; Levi could feel that. He could remember that, even without experiencing it.

He scrabbled for the toilet handle, watching it flush with a disgusted look, nose wrinkling when he could smell the vomit on his own breath. Smacking his tongue, trying to keep from tasting that foul bitter leftover bile, he shoved back open the stall and leaned heavily against the sink. The water was cool as it dripped down his chin and his throat, getting his shirt wet as he swished it around, spitting it out, then repeating, twice, three times.

With his wet hand, he rubbed at his eyes, bringing his fingers up to push his hair back and away from his face. Levi looked at himself at the mirror, took in the tired, young face that was his reflection and grimaced. Sometimes seeing himself was odd, a juxtaposition of his memories. He was young, still tired, but healthy, and growing still.

He knew what it was like to be in his teens, with hunger pains, and his twenties, with indignant pride, and his thirties, with a body that had known what it was like to bleed, break, sweat, and ache. Levi knew all of this, and yet didn’t, all at once. It was confusing and frustrating.

Levi slammed his hand down on the faucet handle, stopping the flow of water. His lip lifted in a sneer.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

“How have you been this last week?”

Levi’s current memory therapist was an old man with thick laugh lines on his face. He always smelled like cigar smoke and cologne. Levi thought he was probably a drunk, because he always had a crystal bottle with a varying amount of brown liquid on his desk. His mother liked him because he was vaguely charming – Levi just thought he was obnoxious.

If he was being honest, he liked that Dr. Pixis didn’t treat him like he was a kid. His other doctors always spoke to his mother and his teachers coddled him whenever he had episodes in class. He was almost fourteen, for fuck’s sake; he wasn’t a baby anymore.

Levi scuffed his foot along the carpet, lounging further back in the chair. He was frowning and could feel the headache starting to form between his brows. He’d been dreaming more of Eren, was losing even more sleep because he’d wake up in the middle of the night with bile in the back of his throat, smelling the melting flesh from the man’s face from the times he’d have to hack him from the giant carcass he was buried in.

It was disgusting.

He flattened his lips in a thin line and scuffed his shoe again. Dr. Pixis was watching him, expression unreadable. This was something else about his memory therapist that he hated: Dr. Pixis was not someone to pry out what he wanted Levi to tell him with coaxing words. No, he’d rather just sit, silent, watching Levi unnervingly until the boy cracked.

Or instigate him into lashing out.

“Hm,” Dr. Pixis hummed out. “You look pretty pissed.”

Levi’s lip curled up in anger, and he snapped. “It’s stupid!” he burst out. “I don’t understand what the freaking point is!”

“The point of what, Levi?”

“Of the memories!” he spat out. His fingers curled around the arm of the leather chair, digging in and making it squeak under his skin. “What’s the point! Everyone is dead anyways. Who cares about them. I don’t care – I don’t care about Eren! Or any of them!” It felt ugly on his tongue, even as he said it, like uncoated medicine that was chalky and bitter and left a bad acrid aftertaste in his mouth.

Dr. Pixis frowned and shifted his weight where he sat. He had a stupid little notebook in his lap, even though Levi had never seen him ever writing anything in it. The end of his pen tapped on paper. “What made you feel like this? Did you have episodes last week?”

Levi felt his face flare up in a blush and burn. “It doesn’t matter! None of it matters – they’re all dead. Everyone that I see in my memories is dead and they don’t matter anymore.” His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles ached. His nails pressed into his palms deep enough to sting. “Everyone is dead and I’m sick of seeing them. I see them die and hurt and cry all the time. It never stops – and I don’t care. I don’t care about him.”

“Him?”

“Any of them,” Levi corrected, tight-lipped. They had spoken a few times about Eren, but there were still some things he hadn’t shared.

Eren slumped against him, being able to smell his sweat and his skin, feeling the warmth of his body, and the tickling sensation of his hair as the boat rocked. The mist of the water, the smell of salt, just stronger than the metallic sweat along Eren’s hairline. He was burning up, even in the cool mist from the waves. His body felt like a radiator along his arm, his face pressed into his shoulder, breathing deeply. The boat shuddered from the force of the water, and Levi caught Eren’s head gently before coaxing him into the curve of his neck. Glancing around at the others, and noticing the lack of attention, he took the opportunity to pull Eren’s hair back from his face, nails scraping gently along his scalp, closing his eyes when Eren breathed out softly and leaned heavier against him. His fingers led from his hair, down the extended length of his neck, resting on his collarbone, above the fluttering pulse.

Levi woke yesterday morning, wet and sticky, blood rushing in his ears, heart racing in his throat. He flushed hot with shame, burning up with it as the damp sweat on the back of his neck caused chills to race up his arms. When he shoved himself up, he cringed at the gooey wet feeling soaked in his underwear.

“What the fuck?” he croaked, horrified, and disgusted, and confused.

He had shoved his bedsheets and soiled briefs into the washing machine, grimacing when his hand touched something wet. “Fucking gross,” he grumbled, wiping his hand on his shirt. Levi sloshed some detergent in and slammed down the lid, punching the buttons to have it pre-soak before washing on the highest setting.

Then he froze and glanced down the hall to his mother’s closed bedroom door. All that he could hear was the machine locking it’s lid and flooding with water. With a sigh of relief, he slumped forward, banging his forehead on the cold metal lid, closing his eyes and trying to let it cool his flushed face.

When he was in the shower, scrubbing his groin with a furious scowl, he loathed the blush he couldn’t chase even with the tepid water – Eren wasn’t even awake! What kinda fucked up weirdo was he in his last life that he was horny and hard over another man sleeping against him.

Smelling him – like that was fucking normal.

So, yes, he was pissed off and he was sick and tired of dreaming of Eren. He was sick of seeing Eren hurt and sick, bleeding and exhausted, but he was also sick of thinking of Eren and getting a fucking chubby.

And Levi was not telling old-as-dirt Dr. Pixis that.

Levi clenched his jaw, staring at him, not offering to elaborate. He can, will, and has sat in complete silence for the whole fifty minute session because he didn’t want to talk about something and Dr. Pixis knew this.

Unfortunately the old man also knew how to nudge him along.

His therapist cocked his head and gave an interested hum. “Is your mother dead?”

Levi flinched a little in his seat, and he scowled. “That’s not funny.”

Dr. Pixis nodded. “Of course,” he placated soothingly. “I apologize. I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to make a point – you have had memories of your mother before, and she’s here, is she not?”

Levi scooted back up in the chair, frowning and looking away. “Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Then not everyone you have memories about are dead, Levi.”

“That’s not the same,” Levi barked, baring his teeth. “She’s the only one – that’s an outlier, not a pattern.” His shoulders rose up as he curled in on himself. “The memories I have of her are centered around her dying and rotting in the bed while I starved. Nothing good ever comes from the episodes. I hate them.”

The old man let out a noncommittal hum. “Do you hate the memories or the loss of control the episodes cause you?”

“Both,” Levi answered without hesitation. When the doctor didn’t respond, he continued, “You don’t get it; every time I have an episode I remember someone dying. It’s either in the memory, and I watch them get eaten by those fucking things, or the moment I come back to now, I have to remember all over again that everyone I used to know and care about died.”

“You don’t find any comfort in the memories you have, just sadness in the sense of losing it all over again,” the man paraphrased.

“Yeah,” Levi said lamely.

Dr. Pixis nodded, and they both fell quiet for a moment. “Levi?” He waited until the boy looked up at him. “Do you ever like the episodes you have?” When Levi frowned at him, he rephrased, “Do you ever enjoy anything you remember during your episodes? Do you always end up resenting them?”

Levi opened his mouth, then faltered. His face fell into a deep frown, brow and chin wrinkling with the action. “When I’m having an episode, I don’t hate it. I don’t even realize it’s an episode. I’m just living in them. I’m thankful I’m alive, and that the ones who have survived are there with me.” He paused, looking down at his hands, clasped together in his lap. “The moment I come back, though, it hurts. It makes me angry. I hate experiencing all the blood and violence – every memory is about someone dying or hurting, or what comes after that. I hate it. I wish I could make it all stop.”

Once more, Dr. Pixis nodded, more to himself, it seemed, than in response to Levi. “You know that past life memories are very understudied in the psychology and neurobiology community, don’t you, Levi?”

“My last memory therapist told me that less than one percent of people had memories.”

“About half a percent,” Dr. Pixis clarified. “Globally speaking, that’s still a lot of people. About one percent of those people are like you, to varying degrees, and have dissociative episodes. Most people just remember things. Like you would remember something from when you were very young, for example. You likely have very hazy, unclear memories from being a child, don’t you?” He gave a slight smile when Levi nodded slowly. “That’s how most of them are. They kind of remember something that happened, but not exactly how. Just like some people with episodes vary in extremity, these people vary with how well or poorly they remember their past lives.”

He crossed one leg on top of the other and shifted his weight to his left side. “Before about sixty years ago, people with past memories were often misdiagnosed and treated with varying levels of schizophrenia. They were treated as if they were having hallucinations, especially the small population like you who had such debilitating episodes. All it took was the work of a historian who realized his wife’s dissociative episodes sounded a lot like the diaries he had been cataloging for his museum. Can you imagine? The attention and love of one man has completely changed the way we treat millions of people.”

Levi scoffed. “Is there a point to this?” He scowled at the reactionary blush that spread across his face when Dr. Pixis chuckled affectionately.

“The point,” Dr. Pixis said amusedly, “is that sometimes the work of one, or a few people can change the lives of millions. For example, there’s a group of undergrads at Marley University that are experimenting with chemicals and hormones on the amygdala of rats.”

Levi blinked at him, then narrowed his eyes when the old drunk’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“A lot of neurobiologists believe that the amygdala triggers the episodes or the recollection of memories for the past life.”

“What?” Levi deadpanned. Then he thought about it. “Are you telling me they’re trying to do something about it triggering the memories from happening? Like a medication?” His eyes widened as he sat up in the chair, leaning forward. “Do you think it could stop the episodes?”

Dr. Pixis settled back. “At this point, we don’t know much about the study. It’s been going on for a few years, but they’re pretty secretive on the results they’ve cultivated so far. I think it’s promising though.” Levi felt a grin break across his face. “I will caution that I don’t think it will necessarily stop your episodes from happening, but it may decrease the likelihood of them, or keep them from being as upsetting when they do affect you.”

Levi didn’t care, though. He had hope that one day he wouldn’t have to live dancing around unprompted episodes.

One day, Levi wouldn’t have to relive being in the Corps, or fighting titans, or dream of Eren ever again.

“Dr. Pixis talked to me the other day.”

Levi froze where he was setting up the dining table. He placed the plate down quietly and stood to look at his mom in the kitchen. She had that annoying ‘testing the water’ sympathetic look on her face and he sighed, dropping the silverware onto the plates carelessly with his frustration.

“What’d the old geezer say?”

“Levi,” Kuchel admonished instantly. “Don’t be a brat.” Levi sighed louder, rolling his eyes before looking at her. “You’re going to pull something if you keep rolling your eyes like that.”

Levi groaned. “Mom.”

“Okay, okay,” she acquiesced, carrying the pot of pasta from the kitchen to the table. “Though, you could be nicer to your mother. I could really do with about half the sass–”

“Mom,” Levi interrupted, taking the hot pot from her and placing it on the bright red holder they had situated in the middle of their table. “The point, please?”

Kuchel huffed a little, reaching out to push his hair back from his forehead. “Watch it before I put you on dish duty.”

“I’m always on dish duty, Mom.”

“That’s because you think you can clean better than me – my teenage son, thinking his mom doesn’t clean well enough.”

Levi leveled her with a look, and watched her take a seat. His mom sometimes did this, especially when it was to tell him something she thought he wouldn’t like. Cancelling plans because she had taken another shift to put food on the table. Not being able to scrounge up enough money to send him on the field trip he had been enthusing about for the past week and a half.

Kuchel looked up at Levi, giving him a sheepish smile when he lifted his brows. “Dr. Pixis was telling me about a study that was coming from Marley University.”

He frowned with confusion. Then his eyes widened. “The memory trigger one? They finally finished it?”

His mother frowned a little, pausing in the middle of serving herself. “Well,” she said hesitantly. “Yes, they finished up their research. Apparently the results weren’t exactly what the medical community was expecting.” She put the handle back into the pasta.

“What do you mean?” he questioned.

She looked at him searchingly. “Levi, can I ask you a question?” At first, he wanted to ask her to explain what she meant about the study, but then he closed his mouth and nodded, face drawn into a frown. Kuchel worried her lip. “What kind of things do you remember during your episodes?”

The question surprised Levi. His mother had taken him to a memory specialist for as long as he could remember, because, he was told, he had an extreme episode when he was a child that had scared the shit out of her. When he was young, he remembered sitting in his mother’s lap as he drew pictures to talk about what he was experiencing. Sometimes she woke to the sound of Levi crying because of his nightmares, especially when he was in elementary school.

But he typically didn’t talk about what he relived. His mother was kind and empathetic. She loved him, worked so hard to provide for him everything that he had. It felt like he broke her heart whenever he even yawned in the morning going to school, like she knew that he hadn’t slept the night before, or maybe even had been woken from an anamnestic dream or nightmare.

So Levi didn’t talk about Eren, or Hanji, or the rest of the 104th cadets, his soldiers, and all Scouts he had seen die. He never told her about man-eating giants, and knowing what it felt like to be swallowed whole by one, only to be torn from its fucking throat by a sentient monster he was in love with.

Kuchel’s face crumpled with distress, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Is it really that bad?” she asked, voice tense and thick with emotion.

Levi swallowed and shrugged. “It’s not nice, Mom,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t like it. Sometimes they make me feel sick, or sad, or angry, because of what I go through. I don’t think my past life was really happy.”

She closed her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself. “The study didn’t result in a medication, like Dr. Pixis had thought it might,” she told him, glancing up with an uncertain look on her face. She paused.

“Mom?”

“There’s an experimental surgery they’re taking applications for,” she explained. “It’s some kind of brain surgery where they inject something into your memory nerves and it blocks the emotional trigger that causes episodes and memories.”

Levi stared at the table, trying to digest the information. Almost three years ago Dr. Pixis had told him not to get his hopes up; if they got any results from this study, it would likely only be an aid to lessen the frequency and the severity of his episodes. They spoke about his hopes and his wishes for it a few times over the years, about how angry and frustrated he got sometimes that it just seemed like they must not be finding anything at all with their study because no information was coming out.

Dr. Pixis ended up being correct, as much as Levi hated to admit it. The old geezer used to tell him that the university not providing information was promising. It meant they had information they didn’t want to share.

But brain surgery?

It was different, a lot different than the magic medication Levi fantasized about. Surgery was a bigger deal – but in exchange for a full stop on his episodes?

Levi looked up at his mother, studying the way her brows pulled together, and the soft melancholic look on her face. “Does it work?” His voice quiet, a wistful whisper he was afraid to raise, like it would shatter the illusion that there was a cure.

Kuchel breathed deep. “There’s been about 200 trials so far,” she tells him. “Almost all of them were successful.” It sounded like a miracle, and Levi was confused. If this could stop the episodes, if it could stop the sleepless nights and the nightmares, the confusing nauseous feeling of suddenly coming back to himself after reliving a whole other life, then why did his mother sound so skeptical. “About 80% of trial cases have lost all memories of their past lives completely. They don’t even remember having a past life, Levi.”

Levi fell back into the chair heavily, blinking rapidly. “They don’t remember?”

“Whatever they’re doing – whatever they’re injecting, it’s almost like it erases everything to do with their past lives. They don’t remember having memories, or having episodes, or anything they had remembered or saw. They’d forgotten all of it.”

Like an overpowered reset button. Clearing out the cache in his brain. Dumping the old information to make way for the new, Levi thought of it as. This was more than he had even dared to dream of.

“Does Dr. Pixis think I should do it?” he asked eagerly.

Kuchel frowned. “Actually, Dr. Pixis was telling me this because he thought that you might bring it up in a conversation and he wanted to give me his professional opinion on it.” Levi narrowed his eyes in frustrated confusion. “In his professional opinion, he thinks it’s a barbaric surgery that causes more harm than good. He says it doesn’t help you cope or manage your episodes, but completely destroys the years of therapy you’ve gone through.”

“I wouldn’t need therapy if I didn’t have these stupid episodes, Mom!”

“I know,” she soothed. “I know, Levi. You wouldn’t need to cope with your episodes if they were gone. He, more than anything, just thinks you’re too young to make a decision on whether you would want to potentially erase every memory you have of your past life.” Levi scoffed and Kuchel gave him a disapproving look. “I agree with him.”

“What?”

“Levi,” his mom countered. “I want you to think about it, and tell me honestly, would you be okay never remembering all the things you’ve learned about with your episodes? All the people you remember caring about? Are all the episodes you have really that bad that you think you would be better off never being able to remember them?”

Connie and Sasha were cackling; Jean reached across to place his hand on Eren’s head, messing with his hair and shoving his head down. “Are you really this fucking bad at poker?” Jean sniped. “I swear the only thing you’re good at is being a giant pain in the ass.”

“Shut up!” Eren bit out, slapping his arm away. “It’s not my fault you fucking cheat.”

“It’s not cheating! It’s not my fault you’ve only ever learned how to play backwards, hicktown poker.”

“Shiganshina was a city!”

Mikasa sighed and laid her hand face up on the table. “Stop, the both of you. I win anyways.” Eren and Jean looked at her hand and erupted into groans.

“That’s not even a thing, ‘Kasa!” Eren cried.

Sasha and Connie were useless, as usual, laying all over each other wheezing with laughter. Anytime someone broke out a deck of cards, the brat squad usually ended up dissolving into yelling and laughter like this. It didn’t matter that tonight Armin had a bruise on his face or that Historia was nursing a bandage on her arm.

Even Bertholdt, the quiet giant, often broke into heated discussion over winning hands. Reiner, the big brute, typically wrestled Eren or Jean to the ground to win his arguments. Ymir just sat and watched with an air of annoyed amusement, only stepping in to tell everyone Historia should win, even if it contradicted the last rule she claimed poker to have.

Despite the cacophony and arguing, it was relaxing. Dependable. Levi could sit and watch them and predict how the game would progress. Armin would try to logic his way through it – “It’s simple math!” he would exclaim, but it would usually shatter into laughter again when Connie would ask “And what fucking number is a King, Armin?”

Hanji was with him tonight, drinking a cup of coffee as Levi nursed his tea. She kept looking over at the scene playing out at the other table. Most evenings she was in her study, reading and eating whatever bird food Moblit was able to coax her into consuming. “Do they do this every night?” she asked, grinning as Eren slammed his fist on the table and stood up to yell in Jean’s face.

“Every night they bring out the cards.”

She cackled loudly, which drew the attention of the kids at the table. They had the decency to look sheepish, knew they were causing a scene and making a lot of noise.

“Sorry, Captain,” Eren called out, diffident.

Levi gave a resigned sigh and took a drink from his cup.

“Why don’t you guys just make up your own rules?” Hanji asked them, grin becoming more maniac when all the kids fell quiet, looking at each other, then her. “I mean, you all have your different rules depending on where you came from, so why don’t you just sit down and pick out the best ones and make it your own version of the game?”

Eren got that stupidly cute thinking look on his face, the one where his nose scrunched a little and his eyes drifted up. Then he cut a firm glare towards Jean. “We’re not using that fucking stupid rule about sevens.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jean erupted. “It’s just how things are .”

“Maybe for horse-faced morons.”

Levi hid his grin behind his teacup and shook his head as Hanji started laughing all over again.

Even as everything changed, poker nights stayed the same. The brat squad grew older, but they sat in the same order around the table, solidified their own rules for the game – at first they fought about what was made a rule and what wasn’t, but eventually it was just laughter and less heated discussions about each other’s shit bluffing face.

There used to be ten of them, crammed around the same table, stretching the deck thin.

Now, there were just six.

He had come back downstairs from making sure Hanji ate something. With Moblit and Erwin gone, Levi was the only one left to keep her from wasting away with ink as blood and paper skin. He stopped and looked down at the two plates in his hands; technically not the only one. Eren had gotten Hanji to eat some bread and meat earlier today.

The kitchen door was through the mess hall, and Levi could already see the brat squad settling down and starting to deal out cards. Eren and Jean always sat across from each other, because they accused each other of cheating every time they played. Armin would be on Eren’s right, then Mikasa between him and Jean. Connie and Sasha always sat too close to each other and practically shared hands, but they hardly ever won even with their combined efforts so it was never a point of contention.

Historia used to sit to Eren’s left, leaning over every now and then to ask a question and share her hand before placing bets. She was in her royal chambers this time of night, Levi hazarded to guess, and the group of brats he had taken in lost yet another person.

There was still an open chair to Eren’s left.

Jean was the first to notice him, eyes blowing wide as he straightened his back, almost like a salute in just his posture. “Captain!”

“At ease, Kirstien,” Levi said, placing his teacup on the table and pulling out the chair.

Eren looked up at him, with big, bright eyes. The boy let out a soft ‘oh’ and moved away to make room for the new addition. Levi ignored the part of him that wished he hadn’t as he sat down.

“Do you want to play with us, Captain?”

Levi gave Eren a deadpan look. “Like I understand all the shitty rules you brats mangled together.”

Eren laughed a little. “All kinds of poker are pretty similar. If you have a question we can help you.”

Levi did not think of the way Historia used to lean into Eren’s space and whisper to him quietly, and the way Eren would lean back into her space to answer. “Fine,” he sighed. “Deal me in next time.”

It wasn’t until he held cards in his hands, frowning with concentration, that he thought about how he had always told Farlan that he didn’t need to learn how to play poker because his skill was hunting down bounties, not gambling.

Levi supposed the good thing about his squad still being scared shitless of him was that they didn’t have the balls to tell him he was completely butchering the game. Eren, though, was a fearless shithead that kept leaning over to peek at his cards, would come even closer to whisper his advice. His breath ghosting along Levi’s neck, the heat burning up his ear.

“He’s cheating,” Mikasa said.

“He can’t cheat if he doesn’t know the rules,” Eren countered, glaring at her. “We stuck and pasted four different ways to play together. I’m sure it'd be confusing for you if you weren’t there to learn the rules, too, Mikasa.”

“The underground probably had its own special rules for poker too,” Armin reinforced. Levi was sure they did, if each wall and settlement had their own version. He didn’t know what they were, though.

She huffed and laid her cards face down on the table. “I fold.”

Jean let out an annoyed, disgustingly phlegmy groan and slapped his hand down too. “Me too. I’m out.”

Connie had backed out after the second round of bets.

Sasha pursed her lips and showed Connie her cards. “Are Eren’s second rations still off the table for betting?”

“Yes,” Levi and Mikasa snapped at the same time.

She huffed. “Fine. I fold.”

“You can’t give up because we’re not betting with food this round, Sasha,” Armin said with an affectionate headshake.

“I don’t remember that being part of the rules we made up.”

“Addendum proposed,” Armin immediately countered, tossing his bet into the pool on the table.

“Motion passed,” Eren, Jean, and Mikasa droned together.

“Hey.”

Eren leaned over to look at Levi’s hand, and he frowned a little. “I would just call,” he advised quietly. As if Levi knew what that even meant. Like he realized that, Eren himself called, just looking at his hand, and Levi followed his example.

Armin turned his cards up. “I have a Shadis.”

“What?” Levi immediately responded, glaring at the cards on the table.

Eren gave him a bright smile. “Well, since we made our own rules, we decided to change what we called the winning hands.”

Levi gave him an annoyed look before placing his own hand on the table. Eren’s smile froze for a moment, then he laid his cards down. “You win, Levi!” he said, cheer completely unconvincing.

It was even less convincing when Jean’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to presumably argue, then Sasha’s arm reached across and whacked him. “What the fuck!” Jean yelled.

“Shut your horse mouth,” she quipped, making Connie giggle. “Just because you’re sore you lost.”

“I’m not sore –”

“Jean,” Armin said, collecting the cards. “Lay off it. It’s Levi’s first game with us. Eren just helped him learn the mechanics.”

The brat leaned back in his chair with a roll of his eyes.

Levi sighed and stood up. “Alright, brats, you have drills tomorrow morning and I won’t take ‘world’s most fucked up, backwards game of poker’ as an excuse for any of you to be late or slacking off.”

His words dispelled the hold on the group, causing the kids to stand and stretch. He grabbed his teacup and made for the kitchen to wash it. Behind him, he could hear them talking quietly to each other, gathering their things and starting to head for the dorms.

Levi flicked water off his fingers as he came back into the mess hall. Eren was there, standing with his coat over his arm. “Do you need something, Jaeger?”

Eren smiled. “No, sir,” he answered. “I was just wondering if you wanted to learn more about our poker rules. In case you ever wanted to join us again.”

Levi took in a deep breath, squaring his jaw. Eren was always so eager, so open. Even without Levi ever encouraging him, or pursuing him, the boy was still shameless in obvious desire. “Do I seem like someone without anything better to do than play poker with a bunch of snot-nosed brats like you?”

“You played with us tonight,” Eren pointed out. He gave the boy an unimpressed look, and Eren simply smiled. “I just wanted to offer, sir,” he said, cheeky. “Any time you change your mind, I’d be happy to meet you in your study to help.”

“Go to bed, Jaeger,” Levi said with a smirk. “It’s past your bedtime, kid.”

Levi never thought he would ever take Eren up on his offer. He didn’t want to lead the kid on or make him think they could be more than what they were.

Then everything else happened, and Eren started fading and it felt like he was slipping away between Levis fingers.

“Eren,” Levi called, frowning when the boy took a moment before peeling himself from the empty stare he had been giving the wall. The boy hadn’t said more than what was needed of him to answer questions. Ideally, Levi would prefer getting him to sleep, but the haunted look in his eyes was something familiar that he knew would keep chasing sleep from the corners of his mind.

The boy gave a questioning hum. Levi frowned deeper and held out the deck of cards in his hand. “You once told me that you would teach me how to play your brat squad poker.”

Eren’s brows pulled together, then he looked at him, energy seeping from him like a leak. “I don’t really think tonight is a good night, sir,” he said tiredly.

“Are you telling me you don’t have time for your Captain, you shithead?” he taunted.

The relief that flooded his heart when Eren’s eyes flashed was inexplicable.

“No, sir,” he ground out.

“That’s what I thought,” Levi said, sitting across from him. “So show me how to play the stupid game you guys made.” Eren rolled his eyes and grabbed the deck from him, shuffling the cards.

“I’m not going easy on you, Captain,” he warned.

Levi gave him a smirk. “I would beat your ass if you did, Jaeger.”

“Levi?” his mother asked, worry on her face as he gasped, hand coming up to rub at his temples. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head a little. “I’m… I’m okay, Mom,” he assured her. And he was, surprisingly. There was a small headache pulling on his head, but it wasn’t a migraine like he sometimes got after long episodes. His heart hurt, remembering the faces of the kids he had seen grow up, knowing they were dead.

But did he want to forget they existed all together?

Levi was quiet when he reached over to fill his plate full of pasta.

The first time Levi met anyone he had remembered from before, other than his mother, he was visiting Maria University. His mother was towards the front of the tour group, talking excitedly to the guide about amenities Levi would likely not even use. He was hanging back, looking at the Pride House they were walking past. He grinned a little to himself, the obviously hand stitched flag that was swaying on the flag pole, jammed packed with colors, and the door set in a precarious wooden frame in the middle of the lawn. “CLOSET DOOR” it read, with a hand painted message of “for anyone who wants to come out.”

He liked Maria so far. During his senior year, he hadn’t been too sure about attending college. He knew it was expensive and there weren’t too many scholarships he qualified for, being as average as academically possible throughout high school with no other talent than having episodic memory triggers at unwelcome and unwanted times. His mother had talked him into at least looking. Maybe attending part time and living off campus.

“I want you to do whatever you dream of,” Kuchel told Levi, cupping his cheek. It was a school night and his school counselor had reached out to tell her most college applications would be ending next week and Levi hadn’t asked any of his teachers to be references.

“I don’t know what I want,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” Kuchel assured, smiling softly. “We can apply to schools to at least give you the option. Look around and research some things. You can always declare a major later.”

So he had given in. Applied to nearby schools because while he looked forward to moving out, he still wanted to be close to his mother. He still didn’t have a major in mind, but Kuchel dragged him around to all the individual major buildings on this and the last two campuses they had been to.

He thought he maybe preferred Maria a little more. It was more openly liberal, with a diverse student population and active cultural houses. As bright and crazy the Pride House looked, Levi thought maybe he would at least check it out during Freshman Week.

Levi nodded a little to himself, then turned to catch up with the tour group that was starting to pull away.

“Shortstack?”

He froze, eyes wide. Chills crawled up his neck, his arms breaking out into goosebumps as the pride flag smacked into the flagpole. He heard laughter from the tour group as it continued walking, and the metallic ringing of the grommets against the pole, like his world hadn’t just been yanked to a standstill.

“Is that you?” Her voice cracked.

He turned slowly, breathing in sharply when he saw her. She was young, just like he was, but he could recognize her with his very soul. Her hair was still up in that signature ponytail, and she wore glasses with blocky, dark frames. She wore a white button up shirt with tacos on it, with waist-high khaki shorts.

His diaphragm spasmed, a strange sort of strangled laugh of disbelief because she looked just like she always did, even now.

“Hanji?”

She let out a horrendous sob as she launched herself at him. Levi probably should have seen it coming, but she threw herself at him hard enough that they both wobbled and toppled into the grass. He wheezed as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, taking the brunt of the force. Levi winced at the sharp pain, bore the stinging ache that chased it, hands gripping her shoulders tightly.

Hanji stayed on top of him, dead weight on his chest, her face buried into his shirt, not bothering to hold back her blubbering. “Levi, holy shit, Levi,” she sniveled. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Four-eyes,” he repeats quietly, palm rubbing up her back. He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes tight as he felt her shaking against him. “Fuck,” he bit out, eyes blinking rapidly open, stinging and wet. He breathed in and out deeply a few times, relishing in the slight ache in his ribs from his fall and her weight on him.

The last time Levi remembered seeing Hanji Zoe, before he presumably died, she was physically and noticeably exhausted, more than just the genius mania that kept her up in the middle of the night, and the excited rambling that kept her from finding sleep. It was hours of research, of reading and rereading, a fatigue she wore heavy on her face, planning their next steps and doubting them the second they were made.

She looked like skin on bones, and he felt guilty that he hadn’t been there to watch out for her. Then again, she was a grown adult, commander of the whole Survey Corps, and should learn how to take care of herself better.

“Have you eaten?” he asked her.

Hanji blew a raspberry in response, making him scoff in disgust and side-step her spittle. “If I eat, I’ll just end up puking it back up. Too nervous to keep anything down right now.”

“Gross,” he muttered. “At least try to choke down some bread and butter. And drink some fucking water.”

“There’s water in coffee, technically.”

“I have no idea how you don’t just constantly shit your pants.”

“Technically my pants are brown; you would never even know.”

“Yeah you smell like shit anyways – when was the last time you took a bath?”

His lip curled when she gave him a sheepish smile. “When was the last time your squad played poker?”

“Hanji.”

“I’m sorry!” she winced. “I know. I don’t even know where the time goes. It just feels like it all blends together. There’s never enough time in the day.”

Levi sympathized. Hanji was doing the job of four people, trying to cram it all in one day and expect perfect results. It was no wonder she forgot to eat and shower. “Yeah, well, please create some time to take care of yourself.”

“That’s what I have you for, Shortstack,” she said cheekily.

Now, she felt healthier in his arms, weighed a lot more than that last time he saw her, too. She smelled freshly showered, her hair was in that kind of frizzy, poofy stage like she had let it air dry. He huffed as it flew in his face and up his nose. The trembling from her crying turned into laughter as she rolled off of him, sitting up on the grass.

Her smile was the same; bright, wide, and edging on manic. His chest ached looking up at her. Levi thought she was dead. He had thought they were all dead. Every episode ended with him realizing that everyone he ever cared about was dead and he was alone now, in this new life.

She was here, though, smiling and laughing and he was sprawled out on the grass in the yard of a Pride House, their tour group looking with unrestrained, nosy curiosity, and his mother giving him an amused, even if confused, smile.

They ended up at a diner Hanji recommended to them, Kuchel in the booth across from them as Hanji talked their ears off, hands moving excitedly. She was telling his mother about all the good times they had in the Corps. “Shortstack here always took care of me,” she said, elbowing him, eyes brightening when he smiled and ducked his head a little. “I wasn’t very good at taking care of myself back then, and he always made sure that I ate. I’ve missed him a lot.”

Kuchel smiled and ate one of her fries. “What was Levi like in his past life? Other than being a badass of course.”

“Mom,” he groaned, hiding his eyes behind his hand for a moment as they both laughed.

“A total badass,” Hanji teased, jostling him with her shoulder. Her smile was a little tighter when she turned back to his mother. “More reserved. We went through a lot as soldiers,” she told Kuchel. “But he was kind, and loyal. Fought with his whole heart to protect the ones he cared about.”

His mom gave him a loving look. “Sounds like my baby.”

Hanji laughed at that, shoving a few fries in her mouth before hunching over to take a bite of her burger. Levi tugged on her ponytail. “Don’t choke and die, Four-eyes. I just found you.”

“You won’t lose me that easily, Shortstack,” she told him, mouth full of food. “There are others I want you to meet now too. Though we’ll probably have to settle for a video call with Erwin, because he’s already overseas attending school.”

“God, you’re gross,” he said reflexively, wrinkling his nose at her bad table manners. It was easier to deflect than to think about it, to realize that there were others out there.

For so long, Levi thought it was just him and his mother. Hanji graduated high school with Erwin and Moblit. She and Erwin had memories, though the former commander’s were a lot hazier and spottier, especially towards the end of his life, she informed him. Hanji had pretty clear memories of their lives together. She and Moblit were both in their freshman year at Maria University, high school sweethearts taking the same biochemistry courses. Moblit often would recognize the faces of people he knew in his last life, but had no memories of anything.

That was probably for the best, Levi thought to himself.

He hadn’t told Hanji yet that he didn’t just remember his life, but relived it. Something told him that she probably knew; even before, Hanji always knew things without him having to tell her.

Just like how in that moment, she bumped him again and gave him an encouraging smile. He rolled his eyes at her and leaned forward to finish eating his sandwich.

Hanji demanded they video call Erwin right away, even though nearly one in the morning for him. “He’d want us to wake him,” she assured Levi, and she was right, of course. Erwin had still been up, finishing a report for a class he had the next day, and he about dropped his phone when he saw Levi.

They couldn’t talk long; Levi and his mother had to get back home before it got too late because she had a morning shift in the restaurant, but Erwin made him add his number and swear to keep his spring break open for a proper visit and reunion.

“You look taller,” Erwin teased.

“I’m sure you’re still a fucking giant,” Levi snapped. Then he gave him a smile. “Full three inches taller. Been eating my veggies and everything, Commander Asshole.”

Erwin’s smile softened a little. “I’m so glad we found each other again, Levi,” he said. “You’re different – happier.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not about to get eaten by a giant fucking monster at any moment, so I can’t complain,” he said dryly. “But it’s good seeing you too, Shitbrows. I’ve actually missed your uptight ass.”

“Good to hear that after all this time you’re still thinking about my ass.”

Levi gave a grossed out scoff and rolled his eyes. “Goodnight, Eyebrows.”

“Goodnight, Levi,” he responded with amusement.

After another long, enthusiastic tackle by Hanji, accompanied with a wet kiss on his cheek, Levi and his mother made their way back to the car. Kuchel sighed when she settled into her seat, and then looked at him with an expectant smile. “So?” she prompted.

“So?”  he repeated.

She laughed and ruffled his hair. “Aren’t you glad I talked you into visiting Maria? You found some of your old friends – I’m so happy, Levi.”

He smiled softly. “Yeah; me too, Mom.”

Kuchel turned back towards the windshield and started the car. “I’m really glad that you decided you didn’t want to do the applications for that surgery.”

His smile fell a little. “Me too, Mom,” he echoed.

Of all the things Levi did remember, he didn’t remember how he died. Dr. Pixis and even Hanji had informed him that he may never remember how he died. Some arbitrarily ‘unimportant’ or ‘traumatic’ events were often blacked out, like a traumatic event would be in present life.

Hanji mentioned to him, quiet over the phone in the middle of the night, that she remembered. She had been there, saw it happen.

Levi assumed it wasn’t peaceful, much like all the other events in his past life.

That still didn’t prepare him for the episode that bowled him over one night when he leaned forward in his bed to turn off the bedside lamp.

Levi clicked the handles on his gear, gas expelling with a loud hiss, hooks digging into the bricks of the building to his left and propelling himself forward. He could feel the humid, thick sweat coating his forehead, collecting along his hairline and the wind chased the heat, cooling the perspiration on his brow, under his pits, the wet pool in the small of his back.

Mikasa was to his left, following him without hesitation, her eyes forward, and he felt a small blossom of pride in his chest for her – even he was distracted by the crashing behind them, the sounds of Eren fighting somewhere they couldn’t reach. They had to trust him to do what was needed of him, because they had another mission.

Levi did trust him; he believed in him with every breath in his body. Eren would save them all.

He let out a grunt when his shoulder skimmed the edge of the building side, no doubt leaving behind scrapes under his shirt, where it snagged and tore. Mikasa glanced at him, a worried little furrow in her brows, but she squared her jaw and turned forward again, arching around the next set of buildings.

Levi huffed a little, then smirked and trailed after her. Mikasa had grown a lot since he had met her, not just in her ability to trust the ones she cared about to protect themselves, to learn how to love them and still know they were strong, capable men, members of the Special Operations Squad, comrades next to her – beyond this, she also grew in skill. Every mission they had together, Levi studied the way she moved, the natural talent she possessed, and begrudgingly compared her to his skill when he was her age too.

She was a lot more subtle in her cocky confidence though.

Most times, at least, Levi thought, scoffing mentally at the cheeky way she glanced behind her as if to make sure he was keeping up. He was older than them, for sure, but he wasn’t that old, insufferable brat.

The air around them reverberated with the scream Eren’s titan let out. Levi repressed the urge to look back, but didn’t blame Mikasa when she glanced over her shoulder, eyes frantic with worry, before her face setting and whipping to the front again.

“He’ll be okay,” Levi assured her. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“I know,” she snapped. “I just don’t like both of us being so far from him.”

“Trust in your squad members,” he said. “The Scouts would die for Eren, and your friends are more than capable of keeping him safe.”

“We’re better,” she said, just a statement, not meant to be cruel or bitter. She was right. It didn’t matter how smart Armin was, or the titan he held inside of him, or the determination Kirstien had – even the teamwork and natural abilities Sasha and Connie possessed.

Eren was always safest with an Ackerman nearby.

Levi didn’t say anything to combat her words, because she knew that he agreed. As much as he tried to hide what he felt for Eren, it was no secret to his squad that Levi cared about him – even if it took him years to convince Mikasa of that. Everything he did was to keep Eren safe.

Including racing away from where he was currently in danger in the most important battle they were likely to engage in.

Armin and Hanji were a force to be reckoned with when they put their heads together; the last few months were a massive, concentrated effort crossing military branches, spearheaded by the two crazy geniuses. Armin, at least, knew to take breaks and eat, but Hanji was juggling reconnaissance with everyday paperwork, and searching for a cure.

He was lucky if he could get her to eat a meal a day.

It all came to a head here, now, on this day. There was strong intel that there was a cache of weapons somewhere in the city, and no doubt with Eren creating a distraction and their two most capable soldiers descending on the stash, they’d be able to reclaim those for themselves. They were at a disadvantage with numbers, even with the help they had been given. Anything to aid them at this point was something they had to go after.

Even if it meant using Eren as bait.

“Here,” he called, swinging himself down into the alleyway to their right. Mikasa was quick and quiet when she followed, shoes barely scuffing the cobblestone as she found her footing.

“They said it would be in the cellar,” Mikasa said, already striding for the cellar door.

Levi grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Wait,” he told her, frowning. He looked around the street – it was quiet, even for an evacuation order under this section of the city. Something cold and not right crawled up the back of his neck. “Let’s go in through the back. Clear upstairs and work our way down,” he told her, letting go and stalking slowly to the door. Mikasa had also learned how to listen to him, despite their differences, because his hesitancy caused her defenses to rise.

He rolled himself onto his toes to peer into the kitchen window next to the back door. The curtains were drawn, but a small corner bunched up, and he was able to see the empty dining table. The area was clear of debris, but dusty – he could see it floating in the air, drifting slowly in the light of the sun.

Mikasa was looking out towards the street, attention split between keeping watch and keeping track of what Levi was doing. He gave her a look – clear, but not safe. Her response was a slight nod, and she turned back towards the street.

Levi skipped the first of the steps leading to the back door, hand giving the knob a slow turn. It was locked – good, but it still didn’t quell the dread that something was wrong that sat in his gut. He reached into his belt for his lockpick, jimmying it open. There was an audible click, and he pulled out his revolver, nudging the door open with his foot and leading with his gun as he peered in.

Nothing but dust.

He didn’t have to call for Mikasa to join him; he could already feel her against his back, her own gun in her hand. Levi moved in first, stepping quickly to the side of the doorway, making room for Mikasa to rush in and close the door quietly behind them.

The ground floor was open in design; he could see the kitchen, family room, and dining room from his position. There was a closed door by the front entrance, a closet, most likely. A second door was left open by the oven, showing a dry pantry, and a third door was closed under the stairs – the cellar. He tilted his head towards the pantry and Mikasa moved, peering in as he made his way to the coat closet. He saw her glance inside and she gave him a shake of her head.

Levi opened the closet door, knocking the coats from one side to the other with the muzzle of his gun. Clear. He looked over at the staircase and made a hold motion with his free hand. She should stay down here to keep an eye on the cellar door while he made his way through the top floor.

Her frown was displeased, but she didn’t argue.

Clearing the top floor was simple. Most of the bedroom doors were open, save for the master bedroom. It looked like any typical family home, even if unusually clean. Relatively speaking at least. There were no marks of human life on the wall, the charcoal smudges of little children’s fingers, or the measurements along doorways, the small accidents that should mar the pristine white plaster. Despite having a secondary room with a children’s bed in it, Levi saw no evidence of children’s books or toys.

This was suspicious even by normal standards.

Mikasa’s head whipped towards him when he came down the stairs. He gave her a shake of his head, gaze moving towards the cellar door. Something didn’t seem right. There should be soldiers protecting the weapons, even if it was a secret.

As much as Levi liked to talk about how they were a bunch of incompetent assholes, if that was true they wouldn’t need to steal materials from them. So there should be soldiers here.

The door to the cellar had no lock on it, and did not make noise as it opened, which made Levi frown. Nothing felt right. There were no loose floorboards or squeaky door hinges. Everything about this house was too perfect.

If he had the option, he would leave and get backup, but Hanji had sent the two of them because she trusted them to handle this. Without one of them on the lines by Eren, she had no other soldiers to spare.

The basement was empty, save for large cargo boxes lined across the back wall, heavy tarps pulled over them. It was dim, even with the sunlight coming down from the stairway and the small windows dotted around the top perimeter of the basement.

Levi let out a sigh and reluctantly holstered his firearm. “Let’s check the crates and then fire the flare,” he told Mikasa, walking over to the tarps. “I don’t want to be here any longer than we have to. This place gives me the fucking creeps.”

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

Levi’s gut twisted unpleasantly at the question. She was right. They had anticipated running into at least four, maybe even six, soldiers here, and instead there were none. “Eren might have caused enough trouble to drag them away,” he said, but even he was unconvinced by his own words.

He grabbed his knife from the sheath, slashing into the tarp and pulling it back. The crates were nailed shut and, with a lack of a proper tool, Levi jammed the tip of his knife under the cover and shoved it up with his strength, grunting as the nails popped out.

It was when he stopped to re-sheath his knife that he heard it, an out-of-place click, and then he smelt the acrid scent of burning copper. His gaze frantically went to where Mikasa was standing near the stairs. “Fuck, run!”

Her eyes widened in surprise and the disobedient brat took a step towards him when it all went to shit.

Levi had advanced exactly two strides when the explosives in the crates went off.

When he was young, and still with Kenny, the old man had watched him when he grabbed a metal spoke with no handle from where it was sticking out of the fireplace. It had burned his hand, and when he screamed, big tears rolling down his face, looking to Kenny for help and assurance, the shitty only man had only lit his cigarette. “That’s what you get for not using common sense, kid,” he had told him. “If you don’t know what it is, don’t fuck with it.”

The way that burn felt was the closest thing Levi could describe the pain that slammed into his back. It was hot, and it stung, hurt like a stab wound and burned like a gunshot.

He hit the ground face first, his nose crunching with the force, blood gushing out of his nostrils and into his mouth as he gasped, a cry of pain ripping from his mouth, which he couldn’t even hear over the ringing in his ears and the several other explosions that shook the house.

It was hard to breath, he felt disoriented, dizzy with a pounding headache, and heavy enough that he couldn’t move. He blinked several times, wincing as blood fell into his eye. His stomach burned with acid, nauseous like he was going to puke, but it never came, just sat like a lump in his throat.

Through the blood in his eye, he could see Mikasa covered in plaster dust, sprawled on the ground with a beam on top of her. Fuck, shit, he had to get to her. He attempted to push himself up, off his stomach, and yelled in pain, a hot flash of nauseous and vertigo washing over him. It was then that he realized the heavy feeling was because he was also pinned by debris – pieces of the foundation that had fallen with what he could only assume were more hidden bombs they had missed while clearing the house.

His vision spotted as and his eyelids fluttered as he panted, close to hyperventilating trying to breathe through the crushing weight. There was more light, now, sun filtering in from the holes in the foundation; through his darkening sight, he could see the dancing particles of dust and plaster, felt them as they coated the back of his throat, making him stutter out a painful cough.

He could see as Mikasa slowly came back to herself, the way she rolled her head back, and groaned, then jerked, yanking on her pinned leg and yelling out. “Captain!” she shouted, head whipping around with her eyes frantic and wide.

Her face filled with desperation as she found him. She struggled more under the beam. “Captain!” she screamed out. “Captain, don’t close your eyes.”

Levi frowned, trying to blink away the dark circles in his sight at her words. He wasn’t closing his eyes, stupid brat. There was blood and he couldn’t wipe it away; his arms were pinned under something rough, and he could barely wiggle his fingers.

“Captain Levi!” Her voice was sharp, borderline hysterical. “Stay awake, please; Captain, you need to stay awake – I’m almost out, I’ll come help you.” His eyes focused on her trying to shove herself from under the beam, to slide out, then breaking off into a pained scream.

It was with that noise that clarity broke through the dazed confusion.

Levi was going to die here. He could feel a wetness soaking into his shirt and his jacket, warm and uncomfortable – blood. He was having a hard time catching his breath, was fighting off a nasty concussion that felt like it scrambled his brain. He would lose consciousness and bleed out, in this stupid, dingy cellar, while his subordinate killed herself to try to save him.

It wasn’t worth it.

The explosions would draw the Scouts’ attention and backup would arrive soon, but if she dislocated her leg and put herself into shock, or knowing their shitty luck, nicked an artery, they would both be dead.

“Stop,” he croaked. Mikasa didn’t hear him, sobbing and gasping through the pain as she kept pulling on her legs. “God damn it, Mikasa, stop.”

Her eyes cut to him, distraught and wet as her chest heaved. “No,” she snapped, voice thick. “No, sir. I won’t.”

“That’s a direct order, Ackerman.” He closed his eyes when that tore an ugly sob from her mouth. “Fucking damn it,” he growled, jaw clenching as he opened his eyes and leveled her with the strongest glare he could muster. “You’re going to kill yourself.”

“No,” she combated. “I’m strong; I can do this.”

“No you can’t, Mikasa,” he told her firmly. “You can’t and that’s okay. I wouldn’t make it anyways – look at me, even if you got out, I wouldn’t make it, okay?” His chest hurt as he watched tears roll down her face, making clean trails in the plaster that had stuck to her cheeks. “Help will come for you.”

“Captain,” she gasped, laying her head on the ground to look at him. “Please, I can do it.”

“No you can’t,” he repeated quietly, breath shallow. “It’s okay,” he soothed, trying to swallow past the pain and fear choking him in his own throat. Fuck, god fucking damn it; he knew – Levi always knew he would die, he even expected it, for decades now, had expected to die. No day was a guarantee.

So why did he feel like crying?

He took in a deep, shuddering, painful breath, trying to chase back the emotion. He had to be strong for Mikasa; couldn't let her see him break. She had to know this was okay, inevitable, and not her fault.

“Captain,” she breathed out.

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “You’ll live. You’ll fight. You’ll become stronger. They need you.”

“Eren–”

“I know,” Levi interrupted, chest aching. “I do too,” he confessed, barely a whisper.

“I know,” she echoed, letting out a shuddering sob.

They fell quiet, and Levi could feel the foggy veil of his hazy confusion start to drift over him again, his headache reemerging with vengeance. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy, and he was too tired to be scared anymore.

“Captain?” Mikasa croaked. He heard her shuffling a little, the little panicked uptick in her breathing. “Captain Levi, don’t close your eyes!” Levi tried to lift his head up, fluttering his eyes, but his skull just fell heavily, cheek pressing into sharp, biting rocks. “Please, sir, don’t fall asleep. Don’t leave me here alone – Captain, wait…”

He wished he could quell her fear more, but he was too tired, and his eyes wouldn’t open, even as he tried.

There was shouting that stirred him from his doze. His whole body hurt and felt heavy, but he could open his eyes just enough to see Mikasa perk up.

“Down here,” she shouted. “Please! Hurry!”

Rocks rained down on them as they moved things, then sunlight flooded the basement, piercing into Levi’s skull painfully.

“Mikasa!” Jean cried, sliding down and rushing over to her.

“No,” she snapped. “The Captain – Jean, get Captain Levi!”

“Shortstack?”

Oh, Levi thought to himself, as tears leaked from his eyes against his will. He never thought he’d hear her again.

“Oh, fuck,” Jean said softly. “He’s not moving!”

Levi could see that he stayed with Mikasa, leveraging the beam on her leg. “Stop,” Mikasa tried again, grabbing at his arm, sobbing when he shrugged her off. “The Captain–”

“‘Kasa, the Captain is gone.”

“No,” Mikasa sobbed. “Please.”

“‘Kasa ,” Jean said, stopping to cup her face. “My orders were to get you out. The others will be down soon.” He turned back to the beam, grunting as he lifted, and Mikasa pulled her lame leg across the floor until it was free.

As the beam hit the ground, so did another pair of boots. “Levi,” Hanji sobbed. “Fucking damn it.” Her hands were hot against his face, traveling down to his neck. “Oh! Oh, gods, he has a pulse.” She kneeled down, peering into his face. “Shit, Levi, you look like shit.”

Fuck you, he thought to himself without heat. He was glad to see her smile, even if her eyes were watery.

“Commander!” a voice shouted from above.

“What is it?” she called, starting to move the rubble from his back.

“Commander!” The voice was hysteric now.

“What !”

A third pair of boots dropped down into the basement. “Commander, we just received news about the Beta team. Eren – Eren has been extracted from his titan and taken by the enemy.”

Levi felt a chill roll down his neck.

“What?!” Hanji screeched, scrambling to her feet. “How?”

“We don’t know, sir,” the soldier reported. “But Arlert and Braus were injured, and Springer was found protecting them.”

“Fuck,” Hanji spat out.

In response to the news, Mikasa made a move to stand up, and Jean had to catch her from falling.

It took all of Levi’s strength to tilt his head to look up at his friend. There was a torn look on her face as she looked at Mikasa, completely unfit for duty, and where he lay under the rubble. Her eyes caught his, and her face fell into something distraught.

She had to choose. She had to make the choice to save his life, and potentially lose Eren, again, or to leave him to die so she could show up with the whole operating Scout regiment and take Eren back.

This was not a difficult decision, for Levi.

He met her gaze and filled his thoughts with one last command, hoping that she would, like she always could, read his mind.

Go. Save him.

Hanji took a tearful breath in. “Okay,” she said. “All units to Ground Zero. Jean, take Mikasa to pick up Sasha and head to the medics. Understood?”

“Commander?” Jean asked.

“Captain Levi Ackerman lost his pulse two minutes ago,” she lied. “We won’t be able to recover his body.” She stopped, looking down at Levi once more. “Move out.”

Levi felt a rush of relief flood through him.

Thank you, Hanji.

Levi heaved, choking on bile in the back of his throat, leaning over with a nasty retch to puke in the trash bin beside his bed. Snot clogged up his nose, and his head throbbed with a migraine, his eyes swollen and achy from the tears. He coughed, hacking up the bitter, burning bile from being caught in his esophagus and spit it out into the trash bag.

He gasped, then his body shook as he sobbed. Levi couldn’t even keep himself quiet, could barely wheeze in anything to breathe, so he wasn’t surprised when his mother was suddenly on the bed next to him, wrapping her arms around him.

“Oh, Levi,” she cooed, kissing his warm, sweat damp forehead. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

Levi gasped in and out, hyperventilating, and clung to her shirt. Instead of eighteen, he felt five again, reliving that first horrible memory he had, the one where he watched his mother rot away. He felt like he was going to burst, like he was going to collapse in on himself like a dying star, like he was shaken up, poured out, and left to hang dry.

“Mom,” he gasped, lungs shuddering. “Mom.”

Her fingers were cool on his forehead as she pushed back his hair and tried to soothe his brow. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “I’m here.”

“I wasn’t there,” he wheezed. “I wasn’t there to protect him.”

“Protect who?” she asked him.

“Eren,” he sobbed. “Eren. Eren. I wasn’t there to protect him. I was supposed to protect him. Mom, I was supposed to protect him.”

“Oh, baby,” she whispered, voice muted and sad. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.”

Levi’s face fell into distraught crying, sobbing heavily into her chest.

His head felt heavy, his eyes tacky with the dried tears. Kuchel gently lay him down on his bed and he hummed, tired, but still distressed, his brows pulling together as he reached for her. She kissed his forehead. “Let me dump your trash,” she said. “I’ll be back, promise.”

He blinked slowly, and when she left the room, he looked up at where his phone was on his bedside table, thought of Hanji seeing him so broken, and dying, and having to choose to leave him to die because it was what he wanted.

His hand fumbled for it, and he winced when the screen burned his sensitive eyes.

He scrolled through his contacts and stopped at her name. His thumb hesitated, then pressed the call icon.

Levi closed his eyes as he brought the phone to his ear.

“Are you seriously thinking about doing that surgery?”

Levi closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his patience, before looking up at Hanji and the door she had practically kicked open. “What are you going on about now?” he sighed, turning his book to lay open on his desk.

“Your memories – are you thinking about getting that awful surgery?” she repeated heatedly.

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, glancing away for a moment.

“Oh my god, you are.”

Levi scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about it since I was twelve, Hanji. It doesn’t mean I’m going to the hospital tomorrow and letting them poke around my fucking brain.”

“It’s more than just poking!” He winced at the volume of her voice. “Christ, Levi, do you know what they’d even do to you?”

“They flood my memory block with some fucking hormone that will make the flashbacks stop – fuck, Hanji, you know how bad mine are.”

Hanji’s brows pull together, angry, desperate, and edging distressed. “They overdose you with a hormone that’s barely been tested on being used on the amygdala – in 76% of cases people lose all recollection of their past memories. It doesn’t just stop the episodes, Levi; it causes spiritual amnesia.”

He scowled at her, his agitation and defenses rising. Hanji didn’t understand, not really; she had memories and dreams of the past, but Levi had full dissociative episodes. Every time he remembered what it was like before, he forgot everything else – there was only the last Levi, and fighting titans, and Eren.

“It’s not like anything from before is any good, Hanji,” he pointed out. He tried to keep from sounding too pissed and bitter, but considering the sad look in her eyes, it didn’t quite work. “I have you, and I have my mom here and now. All the other episodes are just watching the people we used to care about die.”

“What about Eren?”

Levi’s teeth clenched, jaw aching with the pressure. “No,” he said firmly.

“No ?”

“No,” he repeated. “You don’t have the right to bring him into this. You found Moblit. Even if he doesn’t remember, you get to have him and you don’t get to talk to me about what I should and shouldn’t do with the memories I have of a dead man.”

“You loved him.” It sounded like an accusation – and perhaps it was. Not an accusation that his heart had at one point in time loved Eren deeply and wholly, but an accusation that he would erase it all knowing that he had loved Eren. “I know you did – Levi, I knew you then and I know you know. You can’t seriously tell me that you would choose to forget him.”

“Eren is dead,” he snapped. “Eren doesn’t exist anymore and it doesn’t matter how I feel. Every time I have an episode, he’s there and I see him, and I feel him, and when I come back, I have to remember that he died.” Levi leaned forward, glaring. “Every time, Hanji, I live through failing him all over again. So fuck your fucking high horse. If I want to forget ever seeing his face then that’s my choice.”

“I actually saw him die,” she exploded. “Fuck you, Levi, I was there; I saw both of you die and you don’t think I remember that every time I look at you? What about Moblit ?”

“You’re comparing apples to fucking shit-covered oranges, Four-eyes. My episodes are so much shittier than just remembering and honestly I’m done fucking talking about this.” He tossed his hands up in frustration, turning back towards his desk. He flopped his book back along its spine and reached up to switch on his lamp.

“You’re just done ?”

Levi sighed. “Like I said,” he punctuated harshly, “I’ve been ‘thinking’ about this since I was twelve. I’m not walking into a fucking operating room any time soon. It’s expensive as fuck anyways and I’m not making my mom take out another loan. Climb off my fucking back, you four-eyed monkey.”

Hanji stood there, just a few steps into his room, watching him as he started reading. Or at least pretended to. He paused when he heard her let out a soft breath. “You know I’m only saying this because I love you, right, Shrimpy?”

The sigh he released as he glanced at her was equal parts exasperated, annoyed, and fond. She gave him a little half smile. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone about it then,” she told him. “I just… I know it hurts, Levi. It hurts me too, and I can only imagine how you feel – but I loved Eren too. I wish I could remember him like you do, with that much detail.” She fell quiet and let out another sigh. “Okay, fine. I have a lab report due at midnight tonight anyways. Do you want pizza?”

“As long as there’s nothing disgusting on it this time.”

Hanji’s grin turned cocky and the sadness fled from her eyes. “Extra anchovies. Got it.” She gave him a cheeky wink that he rolled his eyes at. Then she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Levi breathed in deep, filling his lungs completely and letting it expand his chest. He leaned heavily back into his hair, head falling back. Behind his door, he could hear Hanji enthusiastically greeting the girl who worked the register at their local pizza parlor. It was more expensive than typical pizza delivery chain restaurants, but Hanji had been right the first time she had told him that it was worth it.

She sounded happy, and then he could hear her laughing.

Hanji was laughing when Eren jogged back to Levi, a bright grin on his face. As he got closer, Levi could hear him chuckling. He hadn’t heard the joke he had told Hanji, just watched as Eren had slid off his gelding and hurried over to where Hanji had been starting to take a catalog of her equipment on the back of the carriage she had been driving. She had been quiet throughout the ride, watching the soldiers around her.

She was Commander now, coming off a battle with massive casualties, and learning that her greatest weapon, someone she genuinely cared about, had a clock ticking on his life. Every night this last week, he’d found her hunched over her desk, hair falling out of her ponytail, tugged out as she looked at reports for the Corps and research on Eren. She hardly even left the room, coming out only for coffee refills and Eren’s experiments.

Levi had come to her office every night, demanding she take a break and bringing her food. He’d watch in equal parts disgust and worry as she wolfed it down, barely taking breaths between bites. There were orders for new equipment, and facilitating training, being diplomatic with the other leaders while still advocating for the rights and the needs of the Corps. There was only so much Levi could do to help her, especially when it came to a cure for Armin and Eren.

He’s sure that Hanji had slept a total of ten hours over the last three days.

This was certainly the first time he had heard her laugh for over a week. Even his dry shit remarks that would at least make her chuckle barely registered over the mess of words no doubt constantly streaming through her mind.

Eren’s smile was bright, kind of mischievous, but Levi gave him a fond eye roll. “Captain,” he greeted with a salute.

“Jaeger,” he responded drying, sliding off his saddle. “Are you looking for something to do? You seem to have time for socializing.”

“I just told the Commander a joke, Captain,” he said, eyes falsely innocent, seeing through the facade Levi presented.

“Oh?” he asked, feigning disinterest.

“Yes, sir. I asked the Commander if she knew there was some asshole talking shit behind her back.”

Levi froze, eyes widening, darting from the reigns he was removing from his horse to his subordinate.

Eren had a shit-eating grin spread across his face, eyes sparkling, dancing.

It made Levi’s stomach flutter, heat blossoming from his center. Of course it would be a shit joke that made Levi fall even more in love with Eren. Taking his time to check in on Hanji, make her laugh despite everything he’s been through, because Levi was sure he was still exhausted from their last battle; he could see it, in the way his shoulders were a little slumped, and the gaunt pull on his cheeks.

Sometimes, Levi thought that Eren cared about everyone other than himself. They had barely survived the battle of Shiganshina, and it decimated their numbers. Eren had only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion, focused on helping his friends that had been injured, being with Armin through his change.

Bringing Levi tea and trying to be a balm to the hurt of losing Erwin. It was ultimately Levi’s choice, but Eren tended to be a martyr, would carry the weight of the three walls on his shoulders, would fight until he died to protect and save. Levi also never apologized for attacking him. He understood what Eren had been fighting for; his friend was also dying, and Levi had been desperate to save him.

Desperate enough to punch Eren, just to get him to shut up. Desperate enough to stick the needle in.

The point was that Eren would work himself to death in order to comfort, help, and protect the ones he cared about.

His bossy sister and genius best friend at least made sure he would eat his double rations and sleep.

Hanji just had Levi now – and apparently Eren too. Eren would take care of Hanji, also. Telling Levi this joke was his way of promising that.

Rely on me, Eren seemed to be saying with his smile. Trust me to help you.

“You shithead,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. Eren chuckled, eyes crinkling with joy, because the little fuck probably knew that Levi found it as funny as Hanji did. “If you want to talk shit, I could make you brush out all the horse tails before dinner.”

“No, thank you, sir,” he said smugly.

“Get the fuck out of my face, Jaeger.”

His salute was always so beautiful, passionate, offering up his heart to humanity and, he liked to think, to Levi, too. At least he liked to pretend.

“Yes, sir .”

There was knocking on the front door of the apartment, and Levi winced, hand coming up to rub at his temples. Hanji’s loud, excited voice carried through the walls, but he couldn’t tell what she was saying. Paying for pizza, most likely. For being a short memory, it was a long episode, and that always made his head heavy with pain.

“Shorty! Food’s here! I got extra anchovies!”

Levi shook his head and chuckled to himself, standing from his desk and stretching his arms over his head.

Sure, the episodes sucked and it was shitty to always get those migraines, but it wasn’t like he had the time to take off for the recovery time brain surgery would require anyways.

Maybe some other year.

“Alright, Shortstack,” Hanji said as she opened his bedroom door. He glared at her, but he knew it wouldn’t do anything. In the three months that they lived together, the first term of his second year, he knew that a door was just an movable object to Hanji, even when it was to his bedroom. “Come on, let’s get ready.”

“Ready for what?” he asked wearily.

“For the party.”

“What party ?” His voice moved to peevish.

“Levi,” Hanji said, stomping over to his closet. “You have been bent over your desk for the last two weeks studying for your finals. Your last one was six hours ago and now you’re free for the next month. So please get dressed and come with me to the frat party I was invited to down the street.”

“A frat party – Jesus fucking Christ, Hanji.”

“I promise it’s not a shithole frat!” she cried, already digging through the shirts he had hanging. “Please; there’ll be free alcohol!”

“Hanji, I would have to be drunk before even stepping foot into a frat house or I’d probably burst into fucking flames.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “We can do that. I have some shit ass vodka in the freezer.”

He gave her an apathetic look. “I am not desperate enough to be drunk to drink vodka straight.”

Her lips pursed as she shrugged. “Fine, then walk into a frat house sober and burst into flames.”

“I am not going to a frat party,” he said firmly.

“Yes, you are,” she retorted. “I even called your mom and told her you haven’t seen anything other than the walls of your bedroom and the classroom for the last two weeks and she told me that if I didn’t convince you to go out today, you weren’t allowed to come home until you let me take you to a club.” Hanji pulled out a dark button up shirt and held it out to him. “So, this is really your choice, Levi. A frat party tonight, or a club some other night this week when I finally wear you down with all my nagging.”

Levi narrowed his eyes and glared at her. Like a standoff. Waiting for her to say she had been bluffing, that it was a joke and he could go back to surfing the internet for stupid videos. That was wishful thinking though. This was Hanji’s way of taking care of him, just like when he used to drag her into the shower and shove bread down her gullet. His mission was to keep her fed and well groomed and she had made it her mission to make him socialize and see the sun at least once every month.

“Fine,” he resigned, standing and stretching his arms above his head. “I suppose you’re dressing me, then?”

“Yeah!” Hanji said excitedly, swinging the hanger with the shirt at him. “I always loved playing with my dolls.”

“I don’t like the implication that I’m your toy.”

“I could always do your hair and make up too, so I would count your blessings and not push me because we both know I’d make it bad just to spite you,” she threatened. He rolled his eyes and pulled his t-shirt off, tossing it into his hamper and shrugging on the other. Her eyes brightened when she watched him. “Oh! You should wear the cologne I got you for your birthmas.”

He frowned at the stupid term, then shot her an accusing look. “Hanji,” he asked slowly, “why do you want me to wear the cologne you told me would get me laid?”

“No reason,” she responded, sickly sweet with fake innocence and fluttering her eyes behind her big glasses.

“Hanji,” he groaned. “I have tried dating more than ten times the last six years. It never works out. You know why it never works out.” His suspicion rising, he gave her an analyzing look. “Why are you wanting me to dress nicely and put on cologne for a party at a frat house that we have never gone to before?”

“I know, I know,” she said, waving her hand as if it would bat away his complaints and questions. “It’s a secret, but, I swear, it will all work out. Just trust me, Shortstack.”

That didn’t reassure him in any way. “I’m going to assume that even if I go to the frat party, if I don’t wear that cologne you’ll still tell my mom that I didn’t go and she wouldn’t believe me if I tried to tell her I did.”

“Probably,” she said with an unapologetic shrug.

The sigh he released came from a place of deep annoyance. “Fine. But no makeup or hair. And I get to leave whenever I want.”

“Promise!”

On top of the dark button up, the cologne, and breaking her promise to comb his hair, she talked him into squeezing into the tightest pair of dark skinny jeans he owned, which he vowed would find a home in the nearest donation bin after tonight because he was already pretty sure he was cutting off blood flow to his legs.

Hanji was in her room, getting ready herself. Apparently she and Moblit were going to meet there and hang out long enough to get buzzed, then go to his apartment on the other end of their complex for their traditional Friday movie night.

Levi could smell the spiced cologne on his forearms when he ran his hands through his hair. His stomach clenched with anxiety. He had tried dating, a lot, especially when he was in high school and still resented his memories. They never seemed to last long; between his own issues with the leftover trauma from his past life, and always seeming to have his episodes revolve around Eren, someone he loved, it would always be too stressful for his partners. One girl he dated for almost three months, when he had an episode about Eren during their date, and she told him she felt like she was competing with someone from the past she could never beat.

He had been pretty pissed about that for a while.

It felt like a nervous, kind of electric, anticipatory energy that crackled under his skin. Restless and expectant.

Levi grimaced and stalked over to the freezer, grabbing the cold as fuck bottle of vodka and pour what was probably between a double and triple in a clean mug that was left out on the counter. The burn that chased his swallow caused him to instantly regret the action, and when he heard laughter he turned his sour face towards the hallway to face Hanji.

“Not desperate enough to drink straight vodka, huh?” she teased.

“That was before the cologne,” he said hoarsely, coughing and then returning the bottle to the freezer.

She walked up to him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You know I wouldn’t ever do anything that ended up in you getting hurt, right, Levi?”

“Yeah,” he said, hand coming up to give hers a pat. “I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t make me nervous for whatever your evil genius brain has cooked up.”

“I’ll take ‘evil genius’ as a compliment,” she said with a laugh, slinging her arm over his neck. “Alright, Shorty, the frat house is close enough to walk, so let’s get going.”

It was a quick walk, surprisingly. He didn’t typically spend Thursday or Friday nights outside his apartment, but he still figured he would hear the party down the street from his open bedroom window. They must keep it down, he thought. Then they were within earshot and he was just glad that he didn’t hear this.

“I get to leave whenever I want?” he verified.

“After I introduce you to a new friend I met in the hallway outside my calculus final,” Hanji confirmed.

“You’re introducing me to someone you met four hours ago?”

“A friend of a friend, you could say,” she said cheekily.

“Okay,” he said skeptically as they walked up the steps of the porch. “But if I leave early, you’re still telling my mom I stayed the whole night and I get to go home for winter break.”

“Pinky swear,” Hanji sang, hooking her pinky with his and grinning as she opened the door.

It looked just like how he had imagined a frat party would. There were people he didn’t know and had never met, drinking something that was probably a combination of twenty different alcoholic drinks from the standardized red solo cups, and there was loud, shitty electro-pop blaring on the stereo. Hanji was holding onto his wrist as she dragged him through the throngs of people, texting on her phone with her free hand and not even really paying attention to where they were going. He heard the familiar chirp of a text coming across, then her face brightened and she tugged on him with purpose, yanking him through the house.

He stumbled over his feet when she pulled him onto the back porch.

“Hanji!”

Levi’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

Armin was sitting on the railing of the porch, a beer in his hand and a bright smile. Standing next to him, leaning heavily on the wood, was Mikasa, a red silky scarf wrapped around her hair, and to her right stood a man that stopped Levi’s heart in his chest.

Eren was tall, and still beautiful. His hair was pulled back into a tiny little bun, and had his back facing the sliding glass door, looking out over the dusk, the slowly fading light of the sun, only turning to face them when Armin called out. Levi saw the moment recognition came over him, the way his smile completely eclipsed his face. “Captain!”

Levi had no control over the laugh that burst from his chest, and the borderline scandalized look that flashed across all three of the brats’ faces only made him laugh more. “Jesus, Eren,” Levi chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s a whole second life and you still can’t call me by my name?”

Eren smiled with his whole body, eyes crinkling, shoulders lifting up, body open and shaking with his chuckles. Armin hid his laughter behind his beer and even Mikasa was grinning. Levi took them all in. They were young, like he remembered them being, but not much younger than he was now. Maybe freshman – that was likely if they hadn’t run into each other yet.

Hanji flew forward as he still gaped, studying them, and threw her arms around all three of them, making Armin wobble and hold up his beer so it wouldn’t spill, and Mikasa’s hand flying up to hold onto her headwrap. “I can’t believe I get to see all three of you together again!” she squealed, giving them a shake.

They laughed, steadying themselves when she finally released them. Levi walked towards them, just to be closer. “Do all three of you really remember?” he asked.

Armin hummed as he took a sip from his bottle. “Yeah,” he answered. “To different degrees, but we know who you all are.”

Mikasa leaned a little closer to them. “I mostly just remember faces,” she admitted. “I know you’re important to me, but not necessarily how or why.” Her smile was soft still. “It’s nice to meet you again, Levi.” Her hand came up to give his arm a friendly squeeze.

“Hanji and I are similar. There are just things we remember. Some days I wake up and remember something new, but it doesn’t ever feel revolutionary. It’s just normal,” Armin said with a shrug.

“Since we’re sharing,” Eren joined, pausing to take a sip from the red cup in his hand, “I used to have a lot of nightmares as a kid, but, for me, it feels like it’s just something that I’ve always known. My past life has always been a part of me.”

Levi hesitated. “I have dissociative episodes,” he divulged with a feigned apathetic shrug. The three kids in front of him looked at him with varying levels of concern. “I’ve had them since I was young. It’s not really a big deal,” he lied.

“And on that happy note,” Hanji said, throwing an arm around the necks of Eren and Levi. “Let’s drink this frat under the table.”

Eren broke into a laugh first, then lifted his cup to his lips and drained it. “Okay. New round for everyone but boring Mikasa.”

Levi gave her a curious glance and she rolled her eyes, pointing at her hijab. “Having a Muslim friend means that you have an automatic ‘boring’ designated driver,” she explained. “I am here to make sure everyone gets home safe, and that Eren drinks water.”

“I’m sure there’s water in the jungle juice,” Eren said.

“I’m sure that’s the only liquid that’s not in the jungle juice,” Armin retorted, sliding off the banister. “That being said, I could use another beer, so I will bring us all a drink, including water for ‘Kasa.”

Hanji stepped eagerly next to him. “I see Moblit in the living room from here, so I’ll come with you.” She turned to Eren and Mikasa with a smile. “It was nice seeing you guys. Let’s get together sometime soon – preferably not on date night.”

“You just want to get laid,” Levi accused her, moving to lean against the banister next to Eren.

She gave him a salacious grin. “Yeah. That’s right.” Hanji cackled and winked at them.

“Gross,” Levi huffed affectionately. Eren laughed next to him, bumping his shoulders with his arm a little, making Levi smile a little freer. He glanced up and caught Hanji’s eye as she walked back into the frat house, watching as her gaze darted back to Eren and she gave him another wink.

His eyes narrowed into a glare. That little shit. The cologne was for Eren.

Of course Hanji would remember the puppy crush Eren had on Levi in the past, and the way they danced around each other for years. Eren never having the confidence to proposition Levi with romance, and Levi having the good sense not to seduce his much younger subordinate into his bed.

Eren was here, warm and real against him. He could smell the sickly sweet concoction that Eren had been drinking, stuck somewhere in the cup that he placed on the banister and probably left on his breath. Levi could imagine how sweet and bitter his tongue would taste now, like sticky syrup and something hard and sharp like the straight vodka Levi had downed earlier.

“Levi?” Eren asked, pressing a little closer to him, giving him a gentle nudge.

Levi’s eyes snapped back to Eren and Mikasa, heat crawling up his face.

Eren’s smile froze a little, his eyes drifting along the curve of Levi’s cheek, before turning a little pink himself. Next to them, Mikasa snorted, lifting her hand to cover her mouth when they both turned and looked at her.

“Nothing,” she said, falsely sweet. Levi leveled her with a glare that he was pretty sure was a lot less effective now that he was twenty and also likely bright pink. Mikasa just chuckled. “I have a feeling you used to give me the same dirty look in our past life.”

“Well, you and your stupid brother were always good and pulling it out of me,” he droned.

“As said stupid brother, I resent that,” Eren said dryly. “I’m pretty sure that look was permanently affixed to your face.”

“That’s just because you and the rest of the brat squad only gave me reasons to give you this face,” he quipped back.

Eren laughed, pressing against Levi’s side. “I missed you,” Eren told him, sounded reverent and breathless. Like he, too, couldn’t believe that Levi was here with him.

A lot of words sat on Levi’s tongue. All the episodes he had lived through. Times he saw Eren young, angry, and brash, and the times he had known Eren to be more mature, determined, compassionate, and empathetic. The way Levi had grown to love him, in the past life, and come to ache for him on an emotional and spiritual level in this one. That Levi had felt like he had been split down the middle and missing his half until the moment he saw Eren tonight.

Instead, Levi just gave him a wisp of a smile. “I missed you too, Eren.”

Armin walked up to them with an arm full of drinks. “I see nothing has really changed,” he said slyly, handing Levi a beer and Eren another solo cup. “Even after all this time, Eren is still attached to your hip.”

Eren choked on his drink. “Armin!” he cried, cheeks bright red. Levi’s head fell forward as he looked down at the beer bottle and started laughing, Armin and Mikasa joining in with him.

They spoke for a while, getting to know each other in this new life. The more things were different, the more they were the same.

Mikasa was more open with her smiles, bright and vivacious, with a great love of her religion and her passion with basketball. She was studying to become a PE teacher, preferably elementary school. Armin was nose deep in two majors and two minors, with engineering, chemistry, mathematics, and something else Levi honestly couldn’t be assed to remember because what the fuck was the kid actually thinking.

When Levi asked him as much, they all laughed and Armin chugged the rest of his beer. “Honestly I ask myself that every day I have an eight o’clock seminar.”

Levi himself was still undeclared with his major. He was taking general courses while he figured out what he wanted to do. He was always nervous talking to people who seemed to have everything figured out, but it was more with these kids, the ones who knew him from before, when he was older and had a lot more confidence and stability in himself.

“That’s okay,” Eren assured him. “We have all the time in the world now; you don’t need to make up your mind now.”

“Especially with the money you spend on secondary education,” Mikasa deadpanned, sipping her water. “You deserve to be sure of what major you want to do.”

Levi gave a soft smile. “What about you?” he asks, nudging Eren against his side a little. “What’re you in for, kid?”

Eren grinned and looked down at his cup with a self conscious blush. “Paramedicine.” He barked a laugh at the blank look Levi gave him in response. “It’s basically taking classes to become an advanced paramedic. I have about a year’s worth of experience being an EMT and our first year is getting our paramedic license.”

“Still have a hero complex, huh?” he asked dryly. Armin and Mikasa broke out into laughter as Eren flushed red.

“I want to help people,” he said. “Be there to save them, to give them that second chance. I remember what it was like–to be saved. By my team, and you.” Levi’s smile faded, his stomach turning for a moment. “I also have a bad habit of acting like I still have the ability to instant regenerate,” he joked, twisting his arm and showing the long, curved scar that hugged his elbow and went down his forearm.

“Jesus,” Levi breathed.

Eren let out an amused chuckle. “I thought it would be fun to go jump cliffing off a waterfall I had never visited before when I was thirteen – didn’t realize the bottom was full of rocks.”

“Suicidal bastard,” Levi laughed.

Armin eventually hopped down from the banister and headed into the frat house because he spotted his chemistry partner and wanted to talk to her about their final. A few minutes after that, Mikasa was pulled away by the other girls on her basketball team. Before leaving, she reminded Eren to drink water and gave Levi a tight hug.

“Take good care of him,” she whispered against his shoulder.

Levi took care not to displace her hijab, holding her close for a brief moment. “You know I always do,” he told her.

She gave him a smile as she pulled away. “Somehow, I do.”

Eren’s smile was soft and affectionate when Levi turned back towards him. “Believe it or not, we’re not even related in this life,” Eren told him, taking a drink from his cup. “She moved to our middle school during eighth grade, but sometimes I still feel like her little brother.”

“Something like that transcends lifetimes,” Levi agreed.

“Perpetual baby brother,” Eren joked. “Fuck my life.”

After laughing, they fell quiet, listening to the sound of the music flowing out of the open sliding door and windows, listening to the laughter and conversations going on around them on the porch and carrying across the backyard. Eren shifted on his feet, pressing against Levi’s side, warm and heavy, and when Levi looked up at him in surprise, he gave a small smile, his cheeks a little pink.

Levi’s eyes widened and he could feel himself blushing in response, his chest tight, heart hammering, stuck in his throat. This reminded Levi of the time on the boat, smelling Eren so close next to him, feeling his body against his, the ghost of his breath against his neck. When he was young, and creamed his pants at the episode, he had been confused, wondering how something so small could cause arousal.

Levi wasn’t hard now, not in a public place where he felt pretty uncomfortable surrounded by people he didn’t know, but there was a warmth spreading in his stomach and he thought he understood. It was because it was Eren . It was intimate, a slow, gentle inevitability. Like boiling frogs. Turning the heat up slowly, not to spook, or startle.

It might be only one night in this life, but it felt like the culmination of years of wanting and desire.

He drained the rest of his beer, then took the cup from Eren, swallowing the last mouthful while holding eye contact, and suppressing a wince at the burn. Eren smirked and laughed lowly, pulling on that warm curled ball in Levi’s gut. Levi grabbed his arm and pulled on him a little, making Eren trail after him as he moved to the door. “Let’s go drink some water,” he said. Eren’s eyes roved over his face, looking him over, gave him the confidence to squeeze his hand around him. “And maybe go somewhere without shitty electric music.”

Levi could see Eren’s pupils dilate, and he couldn’t deny the way his breath hitched in his chest, and the spread of heat throughout his body. Eren’s steps were heavy as he followed Levi closely into the kitchen. There were a handful of kids there, and a scary looking bowl of jungle juice.

Eren was close to him, almost against his back as Levi rinsed the red cup and filled it from the tap. Eren’s eyes were almost a physical touch as he watched him drain it, eyes roaming down his face to focus on the bobbing of his throat. He handed the other half of the cup to Eren, who drank deep and without breaking eye contact.

Electricity under his skin. Levi licked his bottom lip, a blush high on his cheeks when Eren’s eyes darkened. He tossed the cup in the trash can near them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Suddenly Eren was chuckling, stepping back from being so close to him.

“So did you have a place in mind?” he asked. “Away from the shitty… music?”

Levi stepped past him. “I don’t live far,” he offered.

Eren’s eyes widened, and he didn’t say anything for a moment. Suddenly, Levi felt sick to his stomach, the twisting of anxiety and shame creating a toxic burn in his gut. Was that too forward? Levi thought Eren had been dancing around him, like he always did back then, that unsubtle, open desire, tracking him with his eyes wherever he moved, visually devouring him like he’d disappear with the next change of wind.

God, was what Levi even felt truly his emotions or was it some half-cocked episode where Levi wasn’t reliving his memory, but he was just stuck with the phantom of the emotions from his past life? Did he want Eren, or was he remembering what it was to want the old Eren?

“Your place sounds good,” Eren finally said, eyes in a soft curve as he gave him a tender half smile.

“I need to use the restroom,” Levi blurted out. Then he repressed the urge to slap himself in the face. God, he lived nearby, but not enough to hold it – could he sound more stupid?

“Okay,” Eren said easily. “I’ll meet you out front.”

Levi was thankful the bathroom he found was empty. He had been worried he’d maybe walk into someone drunk pissing with the door unlocked. Or, knowing his luck, he thought as he leaned against the counter and looked at himself in the mirror, he had imagined walking in on some drunken heavy petting. He rubbed at his face, then turned the faucet on to cold water, rinsing his hands before rubbing at his temple and then the back of his neck with his chilled fingers.

He breathed in deeply, and then held it for a moment, before letting it out slowly. He felt overwhelmed, and a little unsure. This felt normal, inevitable, like the aligning of time and the stars, but at the same time it felt rushed.

Levi has lived the last decade of his life thinking that Eren was dead, and reliving those memories of loving him, resenting those emotions that filled him every time like a phantom from his past life, knowing Eren was dead and there was nothing Levi could do but long for, miss, and ache for a dead man.

But Eren wasn’t dead. He was outside, waiting on Levi to take him back to his apartment, and, yes, they were definitely buzzed, but everything Levi felt seemed reciprocated.

Eren looked at him with desire and adoration and Levi wasn’t sure if he deserved it in this life. Or the last, for that matter.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he sighed, turning off the faucet and drying his hands haphazardly on the towel laying over the rack. It was a text message – a couple of them; he must not have noticed when his phone went off earlier.

He had a couple cheeky texts from his mom from earlier in the evening, telling him to have fun for once in his life and to please take a chance. Levi huffed a laugh and told her he was responsibly drinking with a new friend.

| Not too responsibly, I hope!

His mom included a horrible picture of a cartoon bunny with a wine glass. God, she was so lame, but he loved her.

Hanji was the one who texted him a moment ago.

| Knowing you, you’re probably overthinking everything, so here’s your sign, Shortstack:
| YOU LOVED HIM AND HE USED TO LOVE YOU.
| Take a chance! I promise everything will work out. It always does.

Levi huffed.

| Fuck off.

Her response was a line of alternating eggplant emojis and water droplets. Gross.

He looked up at himself in the mirror and paused when he saw himself smiling. As much as he hated to admit it, and he would literally never tell her even under the threat of death, Hanji was right. The love Levi knew intimately, held in his heart just for Eren, it being in the past didn’t mean it was any less real.

This was a redo. A second chance. To have Eren completely, without hesitation or consequence.

Levi nodded, licking his lips, then left the bathroom.

Eren was outside, leaning against railing for the front steps, texting on his phone. He looked up and smiled when he heard Levi’s steps. “Hey,” he greeted, pocketing the phone. “I was just telling ‘Kasa that I was headed out with you.”

“I’m sure she would have torn the house down if you hadn’t,” he droned, bumping Eren’s shoulder on his way down, coaxing him into following him onto the sidewalk.

“Yeah, probably,” he laughed. “So you have an apartment close by?”

Levi nodded. “Hanji and I rent a two bedroom flat down the street.”

“God I wish Armin and I were roommates – my roommate likes to play PVP shooters at early hours in the morning. Complete with rage quitting.”

“I would literally cut off his dick.” Levi cherished that laugh that burst from Eren’s chest.

Eren’s presence behind was like a weight blanket on his back, warm and comforting behind as he unlocked the door and let them into the apartment. It was a shithole, which was normal for a college town, but it was their dingy little shithole. When Levi said as much, Eren chuckled and toed off his shoes.

“It’s better than my dorm room.”

“Christ, I remember,” Levi grumbled, bending over to place their shoes on the rack. “I thought I was going to gut my roommate if he forgot to vacuum the floor one more time.” He turned, standing and looking over his shoulder. His face flushed warm – Eren’s eyes were trained down at his ass.

Eren also turned pink when he glanced up and caught Levi’s gaze. He looked a little hesitant, then he stepped towards him. “My most prominent memories,” Eren said softly, “always seem to revolve around you.” His approach was slow, as to not startle Levi, like he knew cornering Levi was a bad idea – because he knew Levi, his soul at least, the version of him he used to be in that last life they shared together. Even with the years of difference, Levi walked until his back hit the cool wood of the door.

His heart raced with adrenaline and his stomach twisted with nerves. He felt like he was barely stitched together, the threads fraying at the edges, trembling in the very foundation of his soul, like he would crumble in any moment.

Eren came closer, stopping only when Levi could feel the heat of his body, standing so close to him. Levi could feel the blush high on his cheeks when he tilted his head up to look up at him – the little shit still so much taller than him, even in this life where Levi had enough nutrients to grow the way his body meant to.

“When I was younger,” he continued, “I always dreamed of you. Drinking tea, by the river with your horse. I remember nights with you in your room, by the fire, learning to play chess, and teaching you to play some bastardized version of poker.” He grinned when laughter bubbled from Levi’s chest. “I was always embarrassed by how much… how I felt about you. It felt like I was going to explode.”

“I know,” Levi whispered. “I remember.”

Eren’s face turned tender, soft and longing. “This last year, I started thinking maybe I wasn’t the only one to feel anything – was I?”

Levi licked his lips, breath hitching when Eren’s eyes darkened and zeroed in on his bottom lip. He didn’t step closer though. He had Levi cornered, but gave him room to escape, gave him the opportunity to say no, to end this.

The fucking shithead was always so insufferably good.

He pushed himself up on his toes and grabbed the back of Eren’s neck with both hands, pulling down on him harshly, smashing their lips together. Eren’s eyes widened, his hand slapping the door to keep him from toppling over on top of Levi, and he let out a loud, muffled, surprised noise.

Levi pulled back a touch to adjust their angle, then kissed him again, still on his toes, back arching to press himself down the length of Eren’s chest. Eren moved one big, warm hand to cradle the back of Levi’s head, the other going down to cup the curve of his hip, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh in the bottom corner of his stomach, stroking the heat flaring through him.

He felt just the barest hint of Eren’s tongue on his lips when he’s feet ached enough for him to crash back down, flat-footed, heavy enough to make noise. “Fuck,” he snapped, fingers trailing up to grab the back of his hair, tugging some of it out of the stupid looking little bun. “Fucking hell, Eren, why do you always have to be so tall–”

Eren laughed, his breath sickly sweet enough from that shitty jungle juice that Levi’s nose wrinkled even as he smiled. “It’s not my fault.” He gasped sharply when Levi bounced up and nipped his bottom lip. “Shit, Levi.” He stumbled back when Levi gave him a shove back to squeeze his way past him; then he grabbed a fistful of his shirt to drag Eren with him as he walked backwards.

“It’s not fucking fair that I’m whole fucking three inches taller than before and I still can’t kiss your shitty fucking face,” Levi sniped back, a touch breathless. Eren laughed at him, following his steps with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just wait until I get you horizontal, Jaeger.”

“Shit, Levi,” Eren groaned, stumbling forward and crashing Levi against the hallway wall, bending down like the shit-eating fucker he was to kiss Levi again. His hands held his face, cradled his jaw, taking advantage of the gasp Eren drew from him.

Levi was right when he thought that Eren would taste like that shitty fucking jungle juice from earlier – some awful amalgamation of dozens of cheap ass drinks that resulted in the closest thing to what Levi imagined unicorn piss would probably taste like.

This was not how Levi had ever imagined, in any life, what his first kiss with Eren would taste like, but under his hot hands, one grabbing his waist and the other tucking under one of his thighs to hitch his leg up, making their hips press against each other, tearing another gasp from him, Levi really couldn’t find it in himself to fucking care.

Levi could feel Eren starting to harden against his stomach. Shit, he needed to get him to the bedroom before he broke one of the essential rules he had insisted upon when he moved in with Hanji – no sex in any common rooms, ever, or the offending party (Hanji, basically, because he didn’t date) would have to pay for professional cleaning.

Determined to get his attention, Levi’s hand slid under Eren’s shirt. His brows shot up and he absolutely categorized the debauched, shocked noise that escaped him as Levi pinched his nipple. Eren had stopped kissing him to make the noise, and now his face was bright red.

“We’ll revisit that,” Levi told him. “But we’re going to my bed first before I have to admit to Hanji we creamed our pants in the hallway.”

Eren snorted in amusement, but backed off, giving Levi room to unstick himself from the plaster of the wall. He led the way to his bedroom, fully aware that, just like they had been the whole night, Eren’s eyes were completely affixed to his ass.

Levi hauled him past the doorway to his room, kicking it shut, hitting the lights on, and, just in case Hanji did make the moronic decision to come home early tomorrow and burst into his room like she knew how to, locking it tight, before dragging Eren over to his bed and climbing on top of him.

Eren let out a groan when Levi settled onto him, dragging his teeth on his plush bottom lip before kissing him again.

He wasn’t prepared for how tender it was, the way Eren wrapped his arms around him, held him close. His tongue was gentle, caressing, exploring as his hand went down and cupped Levi’s ass, giving it a small squeeze. Levi’s jaw fell with a soft moan and he could feel Eren smile against his lips, tongue flicking against the roof of his open mouth, making him gasp and shiver.

That wave of fear was starting to creep back a little, that niggling, nagging thought that this wasn’t really what he wanted, that this was all happening too fast. Levi would never be here, in bed with someone the first night he met them, if it was anyone but Eren – and did he ever really know Eren? All he knew was some dead man from his past life.

Eren’s mouth traveled, hot and wet along his jaw, dragging his teeth, giving playful little nips on the length of his neck. “Fuck,” Levi hissed, nails digging into Eren’s shoulders.

Another part of Levi felt like this was as eventual as the tides. Levi, despite the differences between this life and the last, was the same. Some things changed with the environment that he grew up in, being loved and coddled by his mother, going to therapy since he was a child, and maybe he was the same because he was being influenced and manipulated by his episodes, and maybe Levi didn’t know who he was without that part of himself, but there was some confident, certain part of his very soul that knew Eren.

He’d talk about it in his next session with Dr. Pixis.

With that decided, he pulled away from Eren’s mission to mark his neck to meet him with a fierce kiss, fingers scrabbling up to pull the rest of his hair free of that stupid hipster looking manbun, laughing softly when Eren hissed in reaction to the painful tugging.

Levi used his new advantage with the freed strands to pull Eren’s head back slowly, leaning forward to leave a bite along the edge of his jaw, then holding him still as he latched onto his collarbone, giving him a thorough payback. There was a hot curl of satisfaction when he pulled back and knew this would not heal with his shitty titan powers. This would last him days, a mark of Levi carried on his skin for anyone to see.

When he grinned, Eren lunged for his mouth again, kissing frantically, desperate, a little wild. This was what he imagined, all those years ago, in the other lifetime. The impatience, the shameless display of open desire, desperation, like a bottle shaken and primed to explode.

Had Eren wanted this as much as Levi, in both lives?

Probably more, Levi knew, because Eren felt so deeply, for so long – that puppy crush that he held for him for years, that had developed into something Levi could only imagine, had never let himself taste, loved Levi before he even saw how beautiful Eren was, beyond just his looks, deep in his soul how beautiful he was, before he grew to love every little thing about him, the angry outbursts that made him want to chase Eren’s passion with his tongue, to taste every inch of his skin.

Eren’s hands fumbled with the buttons on Levi’s shirt, fingers clumsy, and he tore away from the kiss with an angry curse as Levi chuckled breathless. “I’ll do mine if you take care of yours,” he teased, easily slipping the buttons out of the holes. He gave Levi a heatless glare before peeling his shirt off, tossing it somewhere on the floor, grinning when Levi narrowed his eyes.

Then Levi’s eyes caught a piece of color on his side. “Holy shit,” he breathed, shrugging off his shirt and leaning forward while moving Eren’s arm. There was the Wings of Freedom, along with a bird, with a key dangling from its beak with a red ribbon. He swallowed, eyes stinging a little.

“I wanted something to remind me,” Eren told him.

“I thought you remembered on your own,” Levi said, frowning.

“I do,” Eren assured. “It’s just sentimental bullshit. A way to wear the wings again.”

“And the bird?”

“A piece of you, to carry with me.”

Levi bumped their noses when he surged forward. “Fuck you,” he whispered against his lips, heart fluttering uncomfortably at the smile that spread across Eren’s face, because apparently the little fuck was just as fearless and unaffected in this life as he was in the last.

Eren chased his mouth with his tongue and teeth, causing them to flop on their sides.

They kissed with a fervor, Eren’s hands hot  along his back, grabbing a handful of his ass and causing Levi to pant against his mouth. It felt like there was a heat wave rolling through him, emitting from his gut, spreading to his cock, down his legs, causing a bubbly nervous excitement, like butterflies in his lungs that made it hard for him to catch his breath.

He could feel Eren’s half hard cock against his hip, and the way their hips were slowly rocking against each other was making an awful mess of his bedding. Also, his own cock was getting thick and the fucking jeans Hanji made him wear were too tight to comfortably be hard and grinding against someone.

“Eren,” he panted, lips slick with both their spit, humming when Eren placed wet, warm, open-mouthed kisses along the bottom of his neck. “Shit,” he hissed, hands going down to fuck with the button on Eren’s jeans. “Come on, brat,” he said thickly, “help me out here.”

Eren hummed against his throat, then eased back, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping. Levi used the opportunity to watch him, until he shifted his hips and winced at the pull of his jeans. He rolled onto his feet, opening his fly and wiggling his hips to peel the fucking thing off his ass.

He looked up when he heard Eren laughing, and gave him a glare, cheeks burning. “Shut up,” Levi snapped. “These jeans are fucking tight.”

“I know,” Eren said, laughing lowly. “They make your ass look great.”

“Yeah, well, they’re still going into the trash after this,” he grumbled grumpily when he finally rolled the jeans down his legs and kicked them away.

Eren’s brows ticked up. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to keep them?”

Levi could still feel the blush on his face as he crawled back onto the bed, hovering over Eren for a moment. “I could be… persuaded,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss him.

Eren opened like a flower blooming in the sun under his tongue. It was beautiful, even if it still tasted like shitty alcohol, and whatever blood had drained from his cock struggling with those stupid fucking jeans came rushing back, making him strain against his briefs. Eren's palms were hot when they cupped his ass, shamelessly squeezing the cheeks as he pulled Levi's hips down onto his.

They both groaned, gasping at the sensation; Eren was hard too, so unbearably hot even through the fabrics. Levi bit at his own lip, looking down at Eren with a half-lidded gaze as he rocked them together.

Eren's head fell back along the pillow, his hair fanning out around him like his own version of a halo, his chin tilting up as his eyes fluttered shut, exposing his neck, which Levi took as an invitation for his mouth. He scraped his teeth along the length of his neck, laying open-mouthed, nipping kisses along his collar and down his chest. Levi’s hand moved to cup Eren’s cock around the strained fabric of his underwear, making him gasp, hips jerking up and back arching.

“Oh fuck,” Eren breathed, hands gripping Levi’s ass tighter, and Levi gave him a returning squeeze around the length of his dick, mouth brushing one of his nipples. Eren squirmed, rolled his hips with impatience, body sensitive and reactive to Levi’s touch.

He felt drunk, and not from the alcohol he had earlier in the night, but on Eren.

In the back of his mind, something hungry woke at the sight of him, bright eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and shiny, hair a tangled mess around him as he panted. Something that had craved Eren for longer than a lifetime, something that had wanted him, desired him with a fire so fierce that it felt like a fuse inside his stomach was being chased, until Levi would explode.

“Please,” Eren whimpered, one hand coming up to grasp Levi’s hair in a clumsy, shaking fist. “Please, please, please.”

Levi’s body jerked up, his hands shoving down Eren’s underwear, letting it bunch up on his thighs – part of Levi felt bad, like he should slow down. They weren’t going to have sex tonight; no, he wasn’t ready for that, but the first time he touched Eren should be with reverence and patience. Another part of Levi always knew it would end up like this, when they finally snapped. Like atoms colliding, an anatomical explosion that would change chemistry, and biology, and the world.

His cock jumped at Levi’s touch, hot – he was so fucking hot all the time, Jesus – and velvety, a kind of soft that came with such a tender, intimate place. He was already leaking from his tip, and Levi slipped his thumb under the skin there, wetting the tip of his finger with it and making Eren whine, his thighs tense under Levi’s weight, like he was keeping himself from bucking up.

Levi’s hand was clammy, but it was still dry when he wrapped his palm around Eren. He would have to reach into his nightstand for the lube soon, but for now he just wanted to hold him, to feel his pulse, the way he barely rocked, like he was trying to be patient but failing. He gave him a small squeeze, pumping once to watch the foreskin bunch over the wet tip, before peeling back to reveal the drop of precum pearling there.

Eren’s hands came to the waistband of Levi’s briefs, and he looked at Levi, a touch hesitant, waiting for permission, even as Levi was slowly jacking his dick. Levi looked at him, squeezing him again, making him gasp and hum. His fingers hooked over the edge of his band, tugging them down until they rolled down mid-thigh, right under his ass, which Eren wasted no time grabbing a feel of now that it was exposed.

He pulled Levi’s hips forward, both of them gasping when their cocks brushed against each other. Levi pressed down a little firmer, moving his hips in a slow rocking motion when he leaned up and over towards his bedside table, fumbling a little when Eren’s fingers brushed down his crack, then under, between his thigh, to press against the backside of his sac.

“Fuck,” he gasped out, falling forward and catching himself with a hand beside Eren’s head. Eren gave him a cocky little smirk, pressing a little firmer on that strip of skin, where it made fire burst in his gut, his mouth dropping in a silent moan as he panted. His hand struggled to jiggle the shitty drawer open, fumbling blindly before grabbing the lube and holding it tightly in his fist as he slammed it down onto the bedding.

Eren’s fingers slid out from where he had tucked them as Levi sat back up, settling heavily on his thighs. His hands rubbed up and down his sides, sometimes stopping to circle the pebbled nipples, as Levi opened the top of the bottle, using one hand to hold their cocks next to each other as he poured the lube over them. Eren’s hands squeezed his waist as he tensed, letting out a soft hiss. Levi grit his teeth – it was never pleasant without warming it in his hand first, but his patience was as thin as a razor at this point and he felt like the stitches holding him together were moments from being cut.

His hand moved easily and slick as he rubbed it along their lengths. Levi rose onto his knees a little, thrusting against Eren’s cock in his hand, squeezing gently, trying not to jostle them too much for his hand to lose grip on the other.

Then Eren tucked his arm around Levi’s neck, pulling him down to just barely hover over him, his right hand coming to wrap around their cocks and Levi’s hand, making Levi let out an embarrassingly loud noise when the heat of his palm slid over the sensitive tip. Levi caught his eyes and felt the aroused blush on his face, saw it on Eren’s cheeks too, the glazed, blown-out look on Eren’s face, mouth slightly open to pant.

He surged forward, crashing their lips together, coaxing their hands to move faster. Eren’s other hand grabbed Levi’s ass as Levi held onto a fistful of his hair. He kissed like he was trying to breathe through Levi, devouring him, sinking into him like he could fall into Levi’s skin and they could become one whole person. His fingers dug into the meat of his asscheek so hard Levi would have bruises, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Their hands moved together, going faster and harder – they broke their kiss for lack of breath, but stayed together, Levi’s forehead resting against his as they panted into each other’s open mouths. Levi felt hot and cold all over, heat waves that rolled through his body, caused him to break into a hot sweat, cooled by the air around them, and the bursts of air that Eren breathed down his chest, back arching to keep himself as close to Eren as possible, to keep pressing himself closer to Eren’s cock and in the cradle of their slicked palms.

Eren’s strokes were becoming erratic, straining Levi’s hand to keep pace. He started rocking his hips up, fucking his cock against Levi’s and into the tight, wet heat of their hands. It made Levi crack, his own hips starting to thrust, gasping when he felt the tension winding, like a wire priming to snap.

It was Eren who crumbled first, his hand guiding their strokes to a sudden stop, squeezing around their cocks almost to the point of pain, as Eren jerked under him, groaning and trembling, falling apart so beautifully, and it was the sight alone that made Levi cum too, gasping silently, breath not even making it into his lungs, stolen away by Eren, his Eren, cumming and moaning, writhing on the bed, head tossed back, hair wild.

He didn’t even have the mind to stroke them through it, both of them just wildly humping as cum dribbled around their fingers and pooled onto Eren’s stomach.

When Levi could breath normally, and he could feel the small tremors from Eren’s body finally cease, he eased himself back from Eren’s face for a moment, haphazardly grabbing a box of tissues with his clean hand and setting it on the bed next to him. They were both breathing heavily; Levi was able to see the steady, fast rise and fall of Eren’s chest. He leaned down and gave Eren a kiss, not meant to arouse, but just because he wanted to.

Eren hummed and tried to chase his mouth, but Levi sat up and grabbed a few tissues to start wiping them down as best as possible. It took more tissues than what he would have liked, and he had half a mind to drag Eren into the shower, but he could see the sleepy, lazy way Eren watched him with a half dazed smile, eyes lidded and heavy.

“Next time,” Levi said, cheeks pink when he realized he still sounded breathless, “you’re on clean up duty, you lazy shit.”

“Next time,” Eren echoed, a dreamy look in his eyes, and it sounded like a promise. He finally forced himself up to help Levi push the pile of cum tissues into the trash bin next to his bed, setting back the tissues and pulling back up his underwear as he watched Levi grab the lube where it lay, forgotten and still open on his sheets.

Levi closed the bottle and dumped it back into the drawer, glaring at the oily spot left on his sheets. Eren’s laughter pulled his gaze away, but Eren didn’t say anything, just grinned, eyes soft with adoration.

“I’ll clean your sheets, too,” Eren offered, reaching out to pull Levi’s briefs back up his ass, tucking his soft, still sensitive cock back into the fabric.

Levi twitched at his touch, and gave him an unimpressed scoff. “Little shit.”

Eren grinned and used his legs to hook around Levi, grabbing him to pull him down to lay on the bed, facing him. They shimmed the blankets down until they could slide their feet in, pulling the bedding up to their shoulders. Eren scooted closer to Levi, legs intertwining, his arm resting on his waist. He reached past Levi to switch off the lamp and lay his head next to his on the pillow.

Even in the dark, this close Levi could see the smile on Eren’s face, and Eren kissed him, soft and chaste.

He didn’t say anything, but Levi heard it all the same, because it echoed in his own heart: I’m so glad I found you.

Levi woke warm, a humid kind of damp with sweat along his side where heat radiated. Eren’s arm was heavy on his side, his breath making Levi’s neck uncomfortably hot. Miraculously, it wasn’t the heat or a hangover headache that woke Levi, just his need to take a piss. He blinked his eyes open, squinting unhappily at the curtains he must have forgotten to close before leaving last night. Eren’s arm tightened around him when he tried to move, but he was dead asleep, and Levi was able to extract himself from the octopus he had apparently invited to his bed the night before.

He yawned, stretching his arms over his head as he walked to the bedroom door, unlocking it and glancing around. Quiet and dark – Hanji was simultaneously a night owl and morning bird, going to sleep in the early hours of the morning and waking just a couple hours later, surviving purely on coffee and energy drinks Levi was sure would kill her one day – all good signs that pointed towards Hanji spending the full night with Moblit across the complex and had yet to come home.

He left the door cracked open as he walked to the bathroom. After emptying his bladder, he gave himself a shake and washed his hands. While he was in here, he might as well brush his teeth, and wipe off whatever leftover crusty, dried cum was making his groin itch. If he very specifically didn’t want Eren to wake up alone in his bed, he would just take a shower, but he wanted to be some semblance of a gentleman.

He made triple sure to place the washcloth in the hamper they kept in the bathroom because Hanji had the disgusting habit of using whatever towel was left out on the counter to do god even knows what, but he found one too many of his washcloths wet and laying on the sink coming home from lectures in the afternoon and he wasn't taking any chances with a cum rag.

After a vigorous brushing of his teeth to get rid of that gross, lingering aftertaste of unicorn piss jungle juice, Levi returned to his bedroom, where Eren was still fast asleep in his bed. Levi took a deep breath and climbed back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at him.

Eren was breathing deeply, his nose almost whistling with his inhalation, face completely slack with peaceful dreams. His mouth was open a little, leaving no doubt a small puddle of drool on Levi’s pillow, but he couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset, because the sun flooded over him, making him glow as he slept.

His fingers were gentle, trembling a little when he brushed the hair back from his face.

That familiar ache was deep inside of him, the yearning for something, someone he missed. He felt like that every time he came back from an episode, hurting because he had returned to a time where he was without Eren.

He moved the blankets a little, just until he could see the tattoo on Eren’s ribs. His skin was hot, even now, without titan blood, feverish to the touch. It was soft and malleable to his touch, the image moving under the coaxing of his fingertips.

Fuck, he was going to cry. It was god-fucking-knows when in the morning after finding the man he was in love with in a past life and having a frankly great fucking handjob and Levi was going to cry while seeing him in the morning light, in his bed, where he has always longed to have him.

He almost lost this, he realized. Levi almost chose to lose this. That surgery, from Marley University, if Levi had talked his mother into signing him up for the trials, or he had decided over the course of the last summer not to work, and instead use his free months for the recovery process, he would have lost this.

Levi would’ve had his brain overdosed on some chemical concoction to stop his episodes, and likely would have lost all recollection of his past life altogether. He would have seen Eren on that porch and had no idea who he was, that he once loved him.

That he might even still.

In retrospect, Levi couldn’t believe there was a time he even considered losing his chance to have this sight.

Eren suddenly hummed, shifting a little in his sleep, his lips smacking a little. He turned his face to press into the pillow, likely right in the the drool puddle he left on it, and Levi could see the moment Eren became awake enough to realize that, because his nose scrunched up and he groaned in the back of his throat, lips flattened in a displeased look.

Levi could feel the way his face became unbearingly fond, his heart aching, even though Eren was here, and Levi could feel the warmth of his body, could smell the damp heat on his skin.

Eren’s eyes squeezed shut, unimpressed with the bright sunlight filtering in through the window, and it made Levi smile a little. His eyes blinked open, turning away with another muffled groan, and turning himself right into Levi’s chest.

“Oh,” he said, giving Levi a disoriented blink, then he smiled, pressing his face space where Levi’s chest met his bedding, peering up at him with ocean eyes. “Good morning,” he greeted, voice muffled.

“Good morning,” Levi echoed.

Eren hummed happily, his smile so serenely content that Levi leaned forward to press his lips against his forehead. Levi’s breath hitched when Eren turned his head, eyes dilating, and then he leaned forward to meet his mouth.

Levi dodge his kiss with a deadpan frown. “I am not kissing you when you have morning breath,” he said, ignoring Eren’s pout.

“You have morning breath too!” Eren protested.

“I do not,” Levi said indignantly. “I already brushed my teeth this morning.”

“That’s not my fault,” he whined. “If you hadn’t brushed your teeth, then it wouldn’t be a problem, because we’d both have morning breath.”

“Eren, that’s fucking disgusting.”

Eren laughed, head lolling back onto the pillow, eyes closing with the force of his smile. Then he turned his bright, amused gaze onto Levi with lidded eyes, causing a fire to broil in his gut. “Do you have a spare toothbrush for me, then?” he asked, voice low.

Levi blinked, then licked his lips. “Uh,” he said. Eren chuckled, eyes crinkling again. Levi huffed and rolled his eyes. “In the drawer on the left to the bathroom sink. There should be a couple there.”

He watched as Eren stretched in his bed, legs shaking a little before rolling out onto his feet. “I’m going to assume your collection of toothbrushes is a leftover personality trait from your last life, and not an indication that you often have boys in need of toothbrushes the next morning in your apartment.”

“You know I could also just send you home if you’re going to sass me.” Levi narrowed his eyes in a glare that didn’t affect Eren at all.

“You love it,” Eren told him with a cocky grin.

Levi looked at him, standing in his bedroom, the sun still bathing him from the window on the right. He was beautiful with his bedraggled hair, in nothing but his boxers, and felt something like love blooming in his chest. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly, “I do.”