#aotchapter115

You never expected to see him again.

          Five years ago, you left the Survey Corps because you could not stand to watch everyone throw away their lives for the possibility of a better life. The future was too unstable, and you refused to wager your heart and soul to a man who had no intentions of keeping them safe.

         But despite your efforts, here he is. Slung over Hanji’s shoulder and covered in dark crimson from head to toe. The patch had slipped off of her eye, revealing a mangled scar and void that once held an eye. But she pays little attention to it, instead insisting that you let them both in to your little cottage immediately because people were going to try to kill him.

         You could have slammed the door in her face, but your gaze drifts from her trembling lips to his masked face. In the years that you had fought beside him, he had never been so reckless as to allow himself an injury, but now…

         “Mama, who is that?” your son asks you, clinging to your skirt. Your hand lands on his head, stroking his hair tenderly before you push him into the house. “Tell your sister to stay in the kitchen. If someone knocks on the door, do not answer. Understood?”

         Hanji helps you lower him into the bathtub, and you begin to remove his ragged clothes before throwing them into the sink. You don’t know whether to wash his wounds first or to stop the bleeding. At this rate, he would die from how much blood he is losing, so you rip your skirt and wrap his head, only leaving room for his mouth and nose to poke through.

         She tries to help, but you swat her away, telling her to attend to her own wounds before she thinks of helping Levi. You take a sponge and clean the dirt and blood from the rest of his body. When you lift his arm, you realize that he is missing two of his fingers… how sad.

         Why has it come to this? you ask yourself as scarlet swirls down the drain. Must you be obsessed with your own demise? He begins to stir, groaning and kicking his legs.

         You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to push him down, and as soon as your fingers curl over his bare skin, he relaxes and sulks back against the tub. “Where the fuck am I?”

         “You still have a foul mouth as ever. But you will not speak to my children like that.”

         Even though the bandage restricts him from seeing your face, he immediately knows who it is from the sound of your voice. And in two sentences, you’ve stirred old memories and revealed that you have children… A breath escapes from his bruised lips before he whispers, “(Y/n)… you’re alive.”

         “Better than what you can say. Shut up now, because I think the bleeding at your face as stopped. I need to clean your eye and maybe I can save it.”

         “My eye?”

         He didn’t realize that his face was scarred up? You raise an eyebrow and unravel the fabric. Indeed the flow of blood had reduced, so you tap the sponge to his cheek. Levi winces and pulls back immediately, lifting his hand to touch the flesh.

         “Stop that.”

         He curses under his breath, but continues to feel the scar. As his fingers nails press against the torn muscles, a disgusting squelching sound makes your stomach flip.

         “I said stop. You barely escaped with your life. This will heal, but let me clean it.”

         Levi looks at you for the first time since you’ve removed the makeshift bandage. His left eye is as dull as the injured one, as the life had left it many years ago. “When did you learn to be so demanding?”

         You laugh wryly, dipping the sponge into the tub. “After Henry really.”

         “Your son?”

         “No, my late husband.”

         Levi does not ask any more questions, leaving the two of you in silence until you’ve successfully washed away the dirt and dried blood. You stand, drying your hands on a towel, before throwing a bar of soap into the tub. “Clean yourself again, and I’ll get a needle and find something to keep that wound closed.”

         He keeps his head forward, but nods slightly, acknowledging what you’ve said. Downstairs, you look through the measly medicine cabinet until you’ve found some small bandage strips that you can use to close the wound until Levi can visit a proper doctor.

         Your daughter tugs on your hand, drawing your attention down. “Mommy, there’s someone at the door.” When you look up, you see shadow through the glass of the front door. “Take this upstairs to the bathroom, and don’t come down. Tell the lady to not say anything either, alright?”

         She does as told, allowing you to walk to the door. “Yes?”

         Three soldiers, equally bloodied as Hanji and Levi were, lean against the frame of the door. They wear mean scowls and try to step inside, but you block the from entering. “May I help you?”

         “Did two people come around here?”

         “People?”

         “Yeah, one with brown hair and an eye patch, the other a short guy with black hair. We’re looking for them – they’re traitors to the Crown and we’ve been sent to collect them.”

         You see right through their lie; the patches on their uniforms are that of the Survey Corps, not the Military Police or the Garrison. Why would the royal family send Survey Corps to search for traitors?

         “I don’t know, I’m afraid. No one has been here in days.”

         One of them cocks their head to the side. “Really? Why are there fresh footprints in the mud outside?”

         You smile and force a laugh. “I was doing laundry earlier. My son fell in the woods the other day and scuffed his skin. I had to wash the blood from his clothes, and because of the mud, I wore my husband’s boots.”

         They almost believe your story. “Can we speak with him?”

         “My husband? I’m afraid not.”

“Why is that?” another one demands.

         “He went to the market this morning to try and sell some items we had lying around. He won’t be back until much later.”

         “You don’t mind if we look through your house, though, do you? We’ll only be a minute. Just to…  verify your story.”

         Exhaling, you side step and allow the soldiers to enter. “Of course. I’m afraid I won’t have any food at the moment to offer you. Times have been hard lately…”

         You hear shuffling upstairs, so you cough to cover the sounds.

         “Have an animal?”

         “No,” you laugh, “just two energetic children.”

         Your heart thunders as they go through each room, intently looking at everything before moving on. One picks up your boots, and a chunk of dried mud falls from the soles, making your story more plausible.

         One of the men sits down, putting his feet up on the table. “So, while you were washing the clothes, you splashed bloodied water over yourself?” He points at your apron, which is covered in diluted scarlet dots and specks of mud.

         “The knock at the door startled me, and I dropped the sponge I was using.”

         Without saying anything, the other two go upstairs as the one keeps you busy.

         “Sorry for that...” he fibs, looking around the small kitchen. He’s trying to give his partners more time to search the upstairs. You only hope that Hanji and Levi managed to hide.

         After a few minutes, you hear voices upstairs – your son and daughter talking with the men. Then, four pairs of feet descend. “We’ll be leaving now.”

         With that, they exit the house, and you lock the door behind them. Your daughter comes to sit on your lap, but you raise a finger, signaling that she should not speak. “Would you like something to drink, sweetie?”

         You don’t know if the soldiers bought your story, so it would be best to play it casually for a few minutes.

         When you look out the window, you see their silhouettes pressed against the horizon, so you run upstairs. “Hanji? Levi?”

         She exists from your room, having hid in the closet with Levi. “The both of you should rest. I can go to into town to get some medicine.”

         But Hanji presses a hand to your shoulder. “We should not have come here. We can leave.”

         You look at Levi, who has pressed himself against the bed and fallen to the ground. “They won’t come back. This is the safest place you can stay for a few days. Until you figure out what to do. It’s alright.”

         She tries to protest, but you turn away and put Levi onto your bed, wrapping him in the blankets. “Did my daughter give you the clips?”

         He nodded and put them in the palm of your hand. You remove the backs and press the skin of his face together before taping the small strips over the wound. They would act as staples and help the muscles heal faster. “Are you in pain?”

         “Of course I am. Half of my face is fucking torn.”

         “I don’t have anything right now, but tomorrow I will get some.”

         You stand up, but Levi catches your hand. You look down, tempted to shake him off, but the subtle warmth from his skin makes your heart calm down. “While you’re here, I don’t want you to know my children’s names. Don’t talk to them more than you have to. Do not leave the house when I am not present either. This is for your safety, but also for my children’s and mine. Do you understand?”

         “Yes.”

         The pad of his thumb rubs against your calloused hand, making you choke on the memories that surface. You thought you had buried them deep enough that they could not haunt you, but now, the man you thought was unbreakable, had come back, shattered and bruised. Although he had not asked you to mend him, you knew that was simply because he could not find the words to do so.

         “I will get some more blankets. If you catch a fever, you’ll surely die.”

         Levi knows his place now. Memories are memories, even if the past might not be too far away. You had decided your life then and made the most of it, choosing a life without him. You were not responsible for him in anyway, but here you were, risking your live and the lives of your children for him.

         “Thank you,” he whispers, completely humbled by this realization. He was in no position to reject your help, and in fact, he was very surprised you had bothered to do so much for him.