[It feels impossible to face him; has for a long time, but Eren's gotten used to doing impossible things. What he and Levi feared more than anything has, indeed, come to pass. The Eren that stands at his front door is the only Eren there ever was or ever could be. There's no denying that now.
[The last he remembers Levi, he was hunting Eren with a broken body. He can't quite remember how he left him here. He remembers other things; tear-choked voices, and an embrace in a quiet kitchen. Levi wrapped his arms around Eren. He was loved.
[There was grief then, and there's grief now. He doesn't think either of them believed they could stop the inevitable, but, perhaps, delay it. As ever, as always, Eren is prepared for Levi to cast him away. There is no way for him to pretend that he's anything like the boy he last saw. Eren never could blame Levi, in his mind, for hating him.
[But he comes to see him. He wants to see him. He owes him that. He knows.
After a year in this place, Levi has learned that the only thing he can count on in this place is the ebb and flow of particularly fucked up, stressful events that manage to string themselves together right in a row. Unfortunately, there's no predicting when calm will suddenly turn to chaos, and while it's not as though he's unused to extreme stress or violent things happening without warning, that hardly means he's unaffected.
Frankly, he's fucking worn out.
So Jean's message that Eren is gone coming on the heels of the latest round of fuckery just adds to the pile.
Unlike his last few rounds of losses, however, he can't help but notice how much more complicated it feels. Maybe it shouldn't be surprising, given what he'd learned; the realization that Eren is on an immutable path. Still, Levi recognizes that part of him is relieved in addition to the sorrow. But even that is complicated, too. Sorrow at losing him, sorrow at knowing what he'll go on to do, sorrow at knowing the only solution will be killing him.
The sudden emptiness of that bond still hurts. It feels different from losing Hange, from gaining the memories of Erwin's death. He can't help but think of Mikasa, both of them now like empty threads dangling in the wind, frayed ends like something's been cut loose.
In the following days, Levi rides to the farm to help look after Elke. Jean could probably manage, but he has less to do for the moment. The tea shop is open sporadically, at once providing distraction but also making him feel a little too confined without enough help to keep it open all day. But making sure Elke is taken care of...feels about like the only thing he can do.
It's a blessedly quiet day when there's a knock at the door. He's left Erwin to mind the shop for a few hours, just needing some time to himself, although the cottage quickly feels too...empty, too quiet. All of his life, there's always been some sort of din of humanity around him. But when he's by himself in their own dwelling it almost feels...lifeless. What will he do when Erwin leaves, too?
(Because, inevitably, he'll probably be the only one to remain here, too.)
So the unannounced visitor is a welcome interruption. Levi pads softly to the door in his slippers, a cup of half-finished tea on the table, and opens the door.
It takes half a heartbeat before recognition kicks in, and then suddenly it's like an icy stone dropping through his chest into the very pit of his stomach. Surprise is evident on his face, gray eyes wide, lips faintly parted. Realization slides like cold water down the back of his neck.
This is not the same Eren he'd seen last. Just as he feels something once again on the other end of that bond, Levi feels the gulf widen even more. Does it stretch beyond that footbridge they'd built before, right here in this very room?
Had it reached its limit even before he'd gone?
Stunned silence stretches for a time even he can't account for, and the longer it goes, the sicker he feels - grief, loss, anger starting to churn violently, confronted with the very thing he'd never wanted to happen.
Eventually, Levi swallows tightly, and drawls out: "What's the matter, Eren? Couldn't get enough of this weirdass place? Had to go and grow a few more inches? Not like you needed them."
[It seems that neither of them know quite how to act. Eren might have expected that. He's gotten too good at wearing a mask when he's uncertain. That cold stone sinking in Levi is founded; there's nothing warm about the way Eren stands, stares.
[Inside, his emotions are a storm. Levi is in one piece again, and Eren, having somehow pushed his cowardice aside, is standing on his doorstep. The man he'd come to consider family doesn't appear happy to see him, but, of course, he wouldn't be. Eren can't blame him for that. He can't blame any one of them.
[Still, that chasm stands between the both of them, wider than it's ever been. Eren has not earned the right to stand before his hero; all the same, he sees no point in hiding. Feels no real intimidation like he might have before, only...shame, which he's well-equipped to swallow.
[His voice is even. It betrays nothing.]
I hadn't intended to leave yet. I couldn't control returning, either, of course. [He thinks he could. He thinks he has. But he won't tell Levi that.]
Things have changed. If you want me to leave you alone, I'll do that.
Even before his disappearance, there had been hints of this. Jean had confirmed it for him. But even knowing where it was headed, seeing glimpses of it, still doesn't prepare him for the coldness in the person in front of him. It's such a stark contrast to the brat he'd first met in a cell, the fiery passion that had first caught his eye, the free-flowing of his emotions no matter what they were.
Maybe part of him had envied that. Admired it, even. Not just of Eren, but all of them, who'd seen so much of the horrors of their world. Seeing it seemingly extinguished is nearly like looking at a corpse; the Eren he thought he knew, the brat who'd once looked to him for guidance and reassurance, is long since gone.
Captain no longer. Just Levi.
He wonders what he really looks like, to this Eren. Those four years of memories now the greatest measure of that rift. Levi feels oddly isolated, left behind. More than ever, that amorphous span of time seems like a fiery abyss with nothing but pain to swallow him, hope scant on the other side.
And for what?
It hurts in a way he's never quite felt before. If he'd thought he'd accepted the inevitability of what Eren would become no matter what he tried, no matter how much Levi could try to turn him otherwise, in this moment he realizes that he never really had. Grief is a roiling wave within him, scrolled with sorrow that he couldn't do more, the reality of what Eren is and the fucking tragedy of it all. The horrendous loss that gets inflicted on the world.
It's agonizing.
He doesn't question why Eren wanted to see him; the orphan child in him understands.
Levi stares back at him, lips drawn into a severe frown, brow furrow against the pain. His hands slowly curl into fists, but otherwise he hasn't moved. Any casual passerby might think they were having a calm conversation, but his limbs are tense and tight.
"Things have changed," he echoes back, stomach twisting at what that means. "So you've finally done it, is that it?"
[Detached, hollow; what else is there to say? They all know what's come to pass, what will.
[And he won't apologize. It wouldn't matter, wouldn't solve, wouldn't bring the world back. He's said it all before, anyway.
[Furthermore, it wouldn't be the whole truth. There are things Eren is sorry about, but to pretend he'd do anything other than what he chose to do again and again and again would only be an insult.
[There's already enough he'll have to lie to Levi about. But he came here with the intention of being as honest as he can.
[He awaits Levi's response; gives nothing else. He half expects to be punched in the face or worse. That's fine. He deserves it. Maybe Levi will finally admit that he hates him, the way Eren's been expecting for almost a year.
It's the emptiness that tips him over the edge to anger.
The kick is faster than the eye can follow. Unlike every other time, Levi unleashes his full, unrestrained strength in the blow. The only mercy he affords is that it connects with the softer meat of Eren's stomach rather than his ribs, which would have shattered on impact. It sends Eren flying off of the doorstep and back into their neatly tended front garden, his landing perhaps cushioned a bit by a bushy evergreen.
Levi kicks off his other slipper and steps after him, barefoot. His blood is pounding in his veins, and he can feel the violent, fugue-like fury simmering under his skin.
All of the lives sacrificed because of Eren, to protect him, to escape him; their comrades, people Levi loved, people who had nothing to do with either of them. He sees Hange burn, Petra, Oluo, Eld, and Gunther's bodies broken and dangling. So many others, and those he can't even imagine because he doesn't fucking know everything that's happened yet.
Not that it matters. There's no accounting or atoning for what he's done, even if the brat wanted to.
Levi stalks after him, footsteps light and deadly. Eren might not fear him as he once did, but it's just as well. He'll heal.
"Would've gone for your head, for old time's sake," he growls lowly. "But would've had t'jump for it."
[There's really nothing else in the world like one of Levi's kicks. Eren is sent flying on his ass, all of the breath forced out of his lungs. Even his mask has to crack. He grips his gut, eyes shifting to look up at Levi.
[Breath is sucked back in. He stares at his former captain.]
Keep going.
[His breath is ragged. His body heals fast, but not fast enough to dull those sharp bursts of pain. He doesn't move to stand back up.]
"Yeah, bet you'd like that," he sneers, looking down at Eren. Perhaps there's a hint of something real there, but the brat seems determined to stay locked on the other side of his pathetic attempt to egg him on.
"'f I'm being honest, I would too. Would like nothing more than to kick you around until all your shitty teeth fall out and then wait for them to regrow and do it all over again." He begins to pace slowly around him, grass soft beneath his feet.
"Maybe I could just pull every fucking pathetic bone from your body and grind you into dust over and over again, since you'll just fucking come back every time while we're here."
When he reaches Eren's head, he stops. The anger is still visible in his gaze, but so is that pain and anguish and disappointment.
"Unfortunately for both of us, I have more important things to do than to spend all my time being the tool of whatever punishment you think you deserve."
[Levi's words are vicious. He recalls more tender ones. Somewhere among all the chaos, there is nearly a year's worth of memories in this place. Levi ceased to be his Captain and became something else. Eren felt a connection between them that he'd never even considered possible.
[It's clear that that's been shattered. He won't show his face again. He isn't entitled to Levi's affection. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't fault Levi for any of this. And he won't insert himself into his life.
[So, he just waits. There's not one word he could say as a balm. There's not one move he could make to bridge this gap. Levi hates him. He should. It's what Eren always expected.
[Slumped over, sitting on his ass in the garden. If Levi has more to say, Eren will let him have it. If not, he'll start to stand. He can't help but brace himself to be kicked back down.]
Levi hasn't forgotten, and he isn't done. If he was truly severing himself from Eren, he'd turn around and walk away, leave him to his own moping or whatever the hell this display is meant to be.
"Get up," he snaps. "Even when you were a sobbing, snotty brat you weren't this fucking pathetic."
Because while it would feel good to beat the shit out of something and ease some of the pressure that's been building for weeks now, Eren simply allowing it like some kind of damned martyr immediately erased all appeal. Like fuck is he going to give him the satisfaction of feeling that pain when he asks for it. Not after what he did.
For what?
He waits until Eren gets to his full height, and glowers at him, arms crossed over his chest. An audible muttering under his breath sounds like something about all of the brats getting so damned tall.
"You said you wanted to see me, so if you've got something t'say, spit it out."
[It is pathetic. He knows it is. It isn't a display, though. He's simply at a loss. All of the emotions that raged inside of Eren before still do now, just numbed, easier to control. He stands up when Levi asks. He can't give him the response he's looking for, though. He doesn't know what that is.
[Would it have been better not to come at all? Eren didn't have anything to say. He needed to make himself known and accept whatever consequence that brought.
[No one could blame Levi for thinking that Eren's intentions are ill, but they aren't.]
The almost empty answer catches him in a crux of complex feelings once again. Little had ever been simple about Eren's existence in his life. It seems that nothing ever will be, now.
For a reason without much purpose, Levi feels confused and off guard, yet not even so very far beneath the surface understands perhaps better than most. Despite the unforgivable thing that he's done, Eren still sought him out...perhaps for what he assumes to be the last time, perhaps knowing he could be met with scorn and rejection and the power of Levi's fury. Given what they've become, transcending captain and subordinate, it seems to almost particularly twist them together even more.
He understands. But it's not enough to overcome everything else. Not now.
Levi just looks at him, expression hard and unchanging, but there's an old, bottomless ache in his eyes, and a question he's never been able to understand:
"Couldn't you have just not trampled the whole fucking world?"
[Eren stares at Levi for a long time. The changes in his expression are microscopic - a tightening of the lips, and a pulse in his throat when he clenches his jaw.
[There's no way to answer that question. It could never satisfy them. They could never understand. Eren can't blame them for that.
[The answer is "no". There was no other scenario in which Eren did not destroy eighty percent of humanity. A thousand lifetimes and a thousand more timelines, and Eren never could bring about another result.
[As soon as he held that power, there was nothing more that could be done.
[What's more, he wanted to.
[But there's no use in saying so. What's done is done. He doesn't expect to be forgiven. It's time to walk away.]
I'll leave now. I won't interfere beyond this.
[Let that be that. He does turn to go. His words are true. He has no intention of making himself an unwanted presence in Levi's life. Levi is content here. Let him be.
No, he'll never understand. It isn't just because he hasn't lived it, those missing four years, that last struggle - it's because to Levi, it's a simple fucking decision. There's no justification for it and never would be, no reason that could ever convince him that such horrific loss of life on that scale is necessary. Sometimes people died because shitty things happen beyond their control, and other times there's definite, definitive sources of blame, decisions that led them there, that people made knowingly.
He doesn't understand the fucked up circumstances, but even if someone could explain it to him, Levi still doesn't believe in this sort of "inevitability" when there had been a choice no to.
The subtle shifts in Eren's expression don't go unnoticed, but when he still gives him nothing and starts to leave, that anger flares to life all over again.
The flash of gray eyes is all the warning he gives before he strikes out with his foot again, kicking Eren's shin out from under him and driving his knee into his chest when he buckles, feeling ribs crack.
"I didn't fucking say you could go," he hisses, looming darkly. "Why the fuck did you do it, Eren? What did you think it would accomplish? Could your puny brain not wrap itself around anything else?" No answer would absolve him, but Levi wants to hear it anyway. Another kick and a heel planted to one shoulder pushes Eren onto his back, holds him down as Levi leans down to glare menacingly. There's nothing but rage and pain in his chest now as he stares into a face older and so changed than he last knew. Bring him back, part of him wants to scream, mourning.
Instead he just waits, tense with fury, fists clenched so hard his hands ache, to see if Eren will just deny him again.
[This is beginning to feel like a waste of time for both of them.
[It's gotten easy to slip into the familiar safety of a cold disposition. Levi sends Eren to the ground and pins him down. Aside from some initial surprise - perhaps a grunt or two of effort - Eren doesn't react. He stares up at Levi with two hollow pits as eyes.
[There's what he deserves, and then there's what his pride will tolerate. He won't cower away from Levi as if he were still a child. He's a different kind of coward these days.]
No answer I could give you would satisfy. We both know that.
[Those cracked ribs are already binding themselves back together. It's uncomfortable.]
It's like I told you. When you're finished, we'll part ways. [No, actually. His ribs are ripping themselves back apart--]
Levi stares back. For a long moment, he can't even speak, despair and anger and grief a violent vortex.
Let go.
He doesn't know how.
But he can't hold on like this, either.
How do you reconcile love with this?
It feels as though his own ribs are breaking open.
After a time that both feels like minutes and only seconds, Levi silently shifts back, stepping away.
But with a fierce grunt of anger, more blows follow. He thinks of Hange, of Petra and Oluo and Eld and Gunther, of Erwin returning without an arm, of those moments on the rooftop, of Nifa, of Moblit, and so many others. Maybe Eren hadn't been directly responsible for all of them, but for most, it was close enough. They had sacrificed their lives believing he was their hope, and for what?
In truth it doesn't last long. A couple of vicious kicks, further breaking ribs and puncturing organs; Levi grabs a fistful of hair and delivers a swift punch to Eren's face, perhaps fracturing part of his skull or even destroying an eye. On the last blow, there's an audible crack as the bones in his bare foot splinter. The last glare he gives Eren, it's difficult to say how much of his grimace is from the physical pain, or from disgust.
Finally finished and trembling, he turns, wordlessly, and limps back toward the door of his cottage, leaving Eren to heal his wounds in the garden.
cw: gore, eye trauma (ohhh you gave me food to cook with)(also just a lil wrap here)
[He must look just like a corpse, lying in the garden in a steaming heap. He looks like the undead when he pushes himself up, teeth bared and gritting, an eye hanging from its socket. Eren carelessly does away with it.
[To say that Levi's reaction was unexpected wouldn't exactly be true. Eren understood that there would be consequences. Damaging a few organs and breaking a repairable nose can't begin to come close to what Eren's done to Levi. He can't fault him for it. He doesn't.
[No anger. No wrath.
[Emptiness, clawing; grief, overwhelming. It wasn't foolish hope that led him here, nor was it duty. It was a scene in a cottage where two soldiers embraced. Eren would have called Levi his family to anyone that asked. Whether you are robbed of something or sell it yourself, does it not create an absence? Eren doesn't expect forgiveness.
[He doesn't expect anything.
[It's a unique Hell to grieve the living. That's a balanced punishment too, Eren thinks.]
levi (don't forget to parent up hehe)
[The last he remembers Levi, he was hunting Eren with a broken body. He can't quite remember how he left him here. He remembers other things; tear-choked voices, and an embrace in a quiet kitchen. Levi wrapped his arms around Eren. He was loved.
[There was grief then, and there's grief now. He doesn't think either of them believed they could stop the inevitable, but, perhaps, delay it. As ever, as always, Eren is prepared for Levi to cast him away. There is no way for him to pretend that he's anything like the boy he last saw. Eren never could blame Levi, in his mind, for hating him.
[But he comes to see him. He wants to see him. He owes him that. He knows.
[They never had their goodbye.
[Eren knocks on the door.]
rip those parental feelings-
Frankly, he's fucking worn out.
So Jean's message that Eren is gone coming on the heels of the latest round of fuckery just adds to the pile.
Unlike his last few rounds of losses, however, he can't help but notice how much more complicated it feels. Maybe it shouldn't be surprising, given what he'd learned; the realization that Eren is on an immutable path. Still, Levi recognizes that part of him is relieved in addition to the sorrow. But even that is complicated, too. Sorrow at losing him, sorrow at knowing what he'll go on to do, sorrow at knowing the only solution will be killing him.
The sudden emptiness of that bond still hurts. It feels different from losing Hange, from gaining the memories of Erwin's death. He can't help but think of Mikasa, both of them now like empty threads dangling in the wind, frayed ends like something's been cut loose.
In the following days, Levi rides to the farm to help look after Elke. Jean could probably manage, but he has less to do for the moment. The tea shop is open sporadically, at once providing distraction but also making him feel a little too confined without enough help to keep it open all day. But making sure Elke is taken care of...feels about like the only thing he can do.
It's a blessedly quiet day when there's a knock at the door. He's left Erwin to mind the shop for a few hours, just needing some time to himself, although the cottage quickly feels too...empty, too quiet. All of his life, there's always been some sort of din of humanity around him. But when he's by himself in their own dwelling it almost feels...lifeless. What will he do when Erwin leaves, too?
(Because, inevitably, he'll probably be the only one to remain here, too.)
So the unannounced visitor is a welcome interruption. Levi pads softly to the door in his slippers, a cup of half-finished tea on the table, and opens the door.
It takes half a heartbeat before recognition kicks in, and then suddenly it's like an icy stone dropping through his chest into the very pit of his stomach. Surprise is evident on his face, gray eyes wide, lips faintly parted. Realization slides like cold water down the back of his neck.
This is not the same Eren he'd seen last. Just as he feels something once again on the other end of that bond, Levi feels the gulf widen even more. Does it stretch beyond that footbridge they'd built before, right here in this very room?
Had it reached its limit even before he'd gone?
Stunned silence stretches for a time even he can't account for, and the longer it goes, the sicker he feels - grief, loss, anger starting to churn violently, confronted with the very thing he'd never wanted to happen.
Eventually, Levi swallows tightly, and drawls out: "What's the matter, Eren? Couldn't get enough of this weirdass place? Had to go and grow a few more inches? Not like you needed them."
no subject
[Inside, his emotions are a storm. Levi is in one piece again, and Eren, having somehow pushed his cowardice aside, is standing on his doorstep. The man he'd come to consider family doesn't appear happy to see him, but, of course, he wouldn't be. Eren can't blame him for that. He can't blame any one of them.
[Still, that chasm stands between the both of them, wider than it's ever been. Eren has not earned the right to stand before his hero; all the same, he sees no point in hiding. Feels no real intimidation like he might have before, only...shame, which he's well-equipped to swallow.
[His voice is even. It betrays nothing.]
I hadn't intended to leave yet. I couldn't control returning, either, of course. [He thinks he could. He thinks he has. But he won't tell Levi that.]
Things have changed. If you want me to leave you alone, I'll do that.
Still...
I wanted to see you. Levi.
no subject
Maybe part of him had envied that. Admired it, even. Not just of Eren, but all of them, who'd seen so much of the horrors of their world. Seeing it seemingly extinguished is nearly like looking at a corpse; the Eren he thought he knew, the brat who'd once looked to him for guidance and reassurance, is long since gone.
Captain no longer. Just Levi.
He wonders what he really looks like, to this Eren. Those four years of memories now the greatest measure of that rift. Levi feels oddly isolated, left behind. More than ever, that amorphous span of time seems like a fiery abyss with nothing but pain to swallow him, hope scant on the other side.
And for what?
It hurts in a way he's never quite felt before. If he'd thought he'd accepted the inevitability of what Eren would become no matter what he tried, no matter how much Levi could try to turn him otherwise, in this moment he realizes that he never really had. Grief is a roiling wave within him, scrolled with sorrow that he couldn't do more, the reality of what Eren is and the fucking tragedy of it all. The horrendous loss that gets inflicted on the world.
It's agonizing.
He doesn't question why Eren wanted to see him; the orphan child in him understands.
Levi stares back at him, lips drawn into a severe frown, brow furrow against the pain. His hands slowly curl into fists, but otherwise he hasn't moved. Any casual passerby might think they were having a calm conversation, but his limbs are tense and tight.
"Things have changed," he echoes back, stomach twisting at what that means. "So you've finally done it, is that it?"
no subject
[Detached, hollow; what else is there to say? They all know what's come to pass, what will.
[And he won't apologize. It wouldn't matter, wouldn't solve, wouldn't bring the world back. He's said it all before, anyway.
[Furthermore, it wouldn't be the whole truth. There are things Eren is sorry about, but to pretend he'd do anything other than what he chose to do again and again and again would only be an insult.
[There's already enough he'll have to lie to Levi about. But he came here with the intention of being as honest as he can.
[He awaits Levi's response; gives nothing else. He half expects to be punched in the face or worse. That's fine. He deserves it. Maybe Levi will finally admit that he hates him, the way Eren's been expecting for almost a year.
[It would rip him apart. He deserves that too.]
no subject
The kick is faster than the eye can follow. Unlike every other time, Levi unleashes his full, unrestrained strength in the blow. The only mercy he affords is that it connects with the softer meat of Eren's stomach rather than his ribs, which would have shattered on impact. It sends Eren flying off of the doorstep and back into their neatly tended front garden, his landing perhaps cushioned a bit by a bushy evergreen.
Levi kicks off his other slipper and steps after him, barefoot. His blood is pounding in his veins, and he can feel the violent, fugue-like fury simmering under his skin.
All of the lives sacrificed because of Eren, to protect him, to escape him; their comrades, people Levi loved, people who had nothing to do with either of them. He sees Hange burn, Petra, Oluo, Eld, and Gunther's bodies broken and dangling. So many others, and those he can't even imagine because he doesn't fucking know everything that's happened yet.
Not that it matters. There's no accounting or atoning for what he's done, even if the brat wanted to.
Levi stalks after him, footsteps light and deadly. Eren might not fear him as he once did, but it's just as well. He'll heal.
"Would've gone for your head, for old time's sake," he growls lowly. "But would've had t'jump for it."
no subject
[Breath is sucked back in. He stares at his former captain.]
Keep going.
[His breath is ragged. His body heals fast, but not fast enough to dull those sharp bursts of pain. He doesn't move to stand back up.]
You're angry. Go ahead. I get it.
no subject
"Yeah, bet you'd like that," he sneers, looking down at Eren. Perhaps there's a hint of something real there, but the brat seems determined to stay locked on the other side of his pathetic attempt to egg him on.
"'f I'm being honest, I would too. Would like nothing more than to kick you around until all your shitty teeth fall out and then wait for them to regrow and do it all over again." He begins to pace slowly around him, grass soft beneath his feet.
"Maybe I could just pull every fucking pathetic bone from your body and grind you into dust over and over again, since you'll just fucking come back every time while we're here."
When he reaches Eren's head, he stops. The anger is still visible in his gaze, but so is that pain and anguish and disappointment.
"Unfortunately for both of us, I have more important things to do than to spend all my time being the tool of whatever punishment you think you deserve."
no subject
[It's clear that that's been shattered. He won't show his face again. He isn't entitled to Levi's affection. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't fault Levi for any of this. And he won't insert himself into his life.
[So, he just waits. There's not one word he could say as a balm. There's not one move he could make to bridge this gap. Levi hates him. He should. It's what Eren always expected.
[Slumped over, sitting on his ass in the garden. If Levi has more to say, Eren will let him have it. If not, he'll start to stand. He can't help but brace himself to be kicked back down.]
no subject
"Get up," he snaps. "Even when you were a sobbing, snotty brat you weren't this fucking pathetic."
Because while it would feel good to beat the shit out of something and ease some of the pressure that's been building for weeks now, Eren simply allowing it like some kind of damned martyr immediately erased all appeal. Like fuck is he going to give him the satisfaction of feeling that pain when he asks for it. Not after what he did.
For what?
He waits until Eren gets to his full height, and glowers at him, arms crossed over his chest. An audible muttering under his breath sounds like something about all of the brats getting so damned tall.
"You said you wanted to see me, so if you've got something t'say, spit it out."
no subject
[Would it have been better not to come at all? Eren didn't have anything to say. He needed to make himself known and accept whatever consequence that brought.
[No one could blame Levi for thinking that Eren's intentions are ill, but they aren't.]
I wanted to see you.
That's all.
no subject
For a reason without much purpose, Levi feels confused and off guard, yet not even so very far beneath the surface understands perhaps better than most. Despite the unforgivable thing that he's done, Eren still sought him out...perhaps for what he assumes to be the last time, perhaps knowing he could be met with scorn and rejection and the power of Levi's fury. Given what they've become, transcending captain and subordinate, it seems to almost particularly twist them together even more.
He understands. But it's not enough to overcome everything else. Not now.
Levi just looks at him, expression hard and unchanging, but there's an old, bottomless ache in his eyes, and a question he's never been able to understand:
"Couldn't you have just not trampled the whole fucking world?"
no subject
[There's no way to answer that question. It could never satisfy them. They could never understand. Eren can't blame them for that.
[The answer is "no". There was no other scenario in which Eren did not destroy eighty percent of humanity. A thousand lifetimes and a thousand more timelines, and Eren never could bring about another result.
[As soon as he held that power, there was nothing more that could be done.
[What's more, he wanted to.
[But there's no use in saying so. What's done is done. He doesn't expect to be forgiven. It's time to walk away.]
I'll leave now. I won't interfere beyond this.
[Let that be that. He does turn to go. His words are true. He has no intention of making himself an unwanted presence in Levi's life. Levi is content here. Let him be.
[Eren's lost the right to cherishing their time.]
no subject
He doesn't understand the fucked up circumstances, but even if someone could explain it to him, Levi still doesn't believe in this sort of "inevitability" when there had been a choice no to.
The subtle shifts in Eren's expression don't go unnoticed, but when he still gives him nothing and starts to leave, that anger flares to life all over again.
The flash of gray eyes is all the warning he gives before he strikes out with his foot again, kicking Eren's shin out from under him and driving his knee into his chest when he buckles, feeling ribs crack.
"I didn't fucking say you could go," he hisses, looming darkly. "Why the fuck did you do it, Eren? What did you think it would accomplish? Could your puny brain not wrap itself around anything else?" No answer would absolve him, but Levi wants to hear it anyway. Another kick and a heel planted to one shoulder pushes Eren onto his back, holds him down as Levi leans down to glare menacingly. There's nothing but rage and pain in his chest now as he stares into a face older and so changed than he last knew. Bring him back, part of him wants to scream, mourning.
Instead he just waits, tense with fury, fists clenched so hard his hands ache, to see if Eren will just deny him again.
no subject
[It's gotten easy to slip into the familiar safety of a cold disposition. Levi sends Eren to the ground and pins him down. Aside from some initial surprise - perhaps a grunt or two of effort - Eren doesn't react. He stares up at Levi with two hollow pits as eyes.
[There's what he deserves, and then there's what his pride will tolerate. He won't cower away from Levi as if he were still a child. He's a different kind of coward these days.]
No answer I could give you would satisfy. We both know that.
[Those cracked ribs are already binding themselves back together. It's uncomfortable.]
It's like I told you. When you're finished, we'll part ways. [No, actually. His ribs are ripping themselves back apart--]
You'll be free of me, so let go.
no subject
Let go.
He doesn't know how.
But he can't hold on like this, either.
How do you reconcile love with this?
It feels as though his own ribs are breaking open.
After a time that both feels like minutes and only seconds, Levi silently shifts back, stepping away.
But with a fierce grunt of anger, more blows follow. He thinks of Hange, of Petra and Oluo and Eld and Gunther, of Erwin returning without an arm, of those moments on the rooftop, of Nifa, of Moblit, and so many others. Maybe Eren hadn't been directly responsible for all of them, but for most, it was close enough. They had sacrificed their lives believing he was their hope, and for what?
In truth it doesn't last long. A couple of vicious kicks, further breaking ribs and puncturing organs; Levi grabs a fistful of hair and delivers a swift punch to Eren's face, perhaps fracturing part of his skull or even destroying an eye. On the last blow, there's an audible crack as the bones in his bare foot splinter. The last glare he gives Eren, it's difficult to say how much of his grimace is from the physical pain, or from disgust.
Finally finished and trembling, he turns, wordlessly, and limps back toward the door of his cottage, leaving Eren to heal his wounds in the garden.
cw: gore, eye trauma (ohhh you gave me food to cook with)(also just a lil wrap here)
[To say that Levi's reaction was unexpected wouldn't exactly be true. Eren understood that there would be consequences. Damaging a few organs and breaking a repairable nose can't begin to come close to what Eren's done to Levi. He can't fault him for it. He doesn't.
[No anger. No wrath.
[Emptiness, clawing; grief, overwhelming. It wasn't foolish hope that led him here, nor was it duty. It was a scene in a cottage where two soldiers embraced. Eren would have called Levi his family to anyone that asked. Whether you are robbed of something or sell it yourself, does it not create an absence? Eren doesn't expect forgiveness.
[He doesn't expect anything.
[It's a unique Hell to grieve the living. That's a balanced punishment too, Eren thinks.]