Yesterday's Enemy [AoT]

ONE-HUNDRED-AND-TWENTY-TWO

'Often, we never quite leave our wars behind. The battles eat into our skin and taste of the blood we never got to shed.'

-An unseen extract written by scholar and journalist Aksel Briggs.

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ONE-HUNDRED-AND-TWENTY-TWO

Wall Maria, North-West Region, Falkirk, Falkirk Military Hospital

Levi idled his days away at Lorelai's bedside.

Another few days passed. He didn't care that his body was slowly wasting away, didn't care that his eyes were permanently bloodshot, didn't care that he now looked almost as bad as he felt.

Nothing else mattered but her.

Levi kept holding her hand, stroking lazy circles. He'd shout at anyone who tried to separate them.

The winds could change, a storm could blast against the window, but Levi knew that he would stay at her side until he could protect her no longer.

He drifted in and out of consciousness. Levi experienced fever dreams of times past, Lorelai laughing, only for her laughs to turn to screams.

Such dreams had once been just that, dreams— the nighttime creations of his lonely, fearful mind. But they were now real. Levi could no longer live under the pretence that he could protect her because he now knew that he was truly powerless to do so. He had failed. And the consequence had been Lorelai's life and body.

He blamed Erwin and his proud, driven spirit.

He blamed Lorelai for ever trying to convince him that things would be okay.

He blamed Elske for giving the sacrifice he had so quickly squandered.

But, all that anger was just the outward projection of his own self-hatred. Levi had a thousand names and moments to blame, but, the truth was, despite all that had happened, it was he who had failed.

And Levi only had himself to blame.

He awoke from his nighttime horrors with a start, gaining his bearings as he righted himself in his chair. The subject of his dreams evaded him, but, judging by his sweat-soaked brow and trembling hands, Levi didn't want to remember.

It was early morning, not 0600 hours. Lorelai hadn't moved, of course; the early dawn sun cast a warm glow across her face. For just a small moment, he forgot his troubles.

Levi looked up; there was a woman sat at her beside.

It was Adette, Lorelai's mother.

She'd covered Lorelai with an extra blanket, deep red cashmere, typical of the North. She'd brought flowers as well, white lilies, resting on the side table.

Levi had forgotten entirely about her if he was honest. He supposed she had a right to be here. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

Adette smiled at Levi. "Hello, dear. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

He was glad she did. Sleep wasn't kind to him at the moment.

"I don't mean to intrude. I caught word, and well... her godfather let me in."

"It's fine," was all Levi could manage out.

Romero had been near as attentive as Levi this past week. His was a more reserved worry, but he often lingered in the hospital corridor, complaining loudly to the nurses.