INSTANT CRUSH: AOT One-shots

Levi » A Heart's a Heavy Burden

canon-verse

"The comfort of your office is where Levi finds himself after every mission..."

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Waiting for the Scouts' return from their missions had always been a stressful affair.

Stationed outside the HQ with your team of nurses, you gnawed at your bottom lip in anticipation and fear, hands trembling despite the many years of experience.

Your heartbeat picked up when the sound of heavy galloping drew near, the sight of Levi to Erwin's right as they led back the flock assuaging if only a sliver of your anxiety. You had no time to inspect him thoroughly and check if he was safe and sound, though—the carriages of injured soldiers always came first. Mere seconds after they'd halted you were already commanding everyone around to ensure those who needed attention got tended to in time.

Only past midnight, after your final round of checkups on the rows of now recovering soldiers lining your infirmary did you walk back to your office, on your last legs, to find Levi there, in his usual corner on your couch.

He was usually always fine—which never failed to amaze you. It shouldn't, since he was literally hailed as Humanity's Strongest, and rightfully so from the many accounts of those who had shared the battlefield with him, but you still couldn't help but be left in awe of his vigor every time. It simply defied the laws of biology you'd spent years studying.

At most, he'd be sporting a few scrapes and cuts here and there which you'd still insist on cleaning, stitching, and bandaging for him as he'd tell you about the eventful day. He was a man of few words, but for some reason, when you'd be tending to his wounds was the time he'd serenade it all with abandon. You didn't know if it was to distract himself from the sting of the needle and ointments or if your touch had an unraveling effect, but you loved it nonetheless. And as messed up as it might sound, sometimes you even looked forward to it.

This time around, however, he actually showed signs of being human and admitted to having twisted his ankle. It was so unexpected you almost didn't believe him at first. His swollen and now blueish flesh eroded all doubt, though. Not without admonishing him for not having come to you earlier, you fetched the first aid kit and worked on alleviating his pain as he recounted how it had occurred, how the lapse of judgment of a young recruit was the reason, and then quieted down, watching you handle his wound with your habitual dexterity and tenderness.

You knew there was more to it—more had happened during the few hours they had been away. There was more that lingered heavily on his chest and the tip of his tongue. After all, his entire squad hadn't made it back. Dead or alive. And some of the nurses had brought more details from the surviving recruits. But for some reason, Levi only chose to speak about this incident. He left the rest of it out. And you didn't question it; you didn't press. You never had. It was how you'd managed to keep this special bond alive for so long—how you'd been able to create a haven for the other to run to, despite the brutal nature of your lives and duties.

He would open up when he was ready—if he would ever be. And whatever his choice, you would be there for him.

Once you were done, you squeezed his knee and asked if he wanted tea. It was usually how you'd spend the rest of your evenings after missions, but this was no ordinary one. Shaking his head, he said he needed to rest instead. It was the first time he'd ever admit so, to needing something so fundamental and natural, for god knew how he always prioritized others' well-being over his, leaving himself for last, staying grounded, and keeping up the façade when he was undoubtedly just as broken on the inside as everyone else. And it made your heart clench.

"Go ahead," you whispered. As he reclined to set his head on the armrest, you grabbed a pillow to your lap and gently placed his wounded foot atop it.

With a reassuring smile and gentle strokes on his leg, you watched him drape an arm over his face and doze off for a few hours, his chest heaving serenely as though it was not burdened with carrying such a heavy heart.

You liked to think it was your presence that helped lift some of the weight with him.