Return to sender

Two sides

Flying through the night's sky between brilliantly lit buildings, scraping the roofs with finger nails and laughing loudly, joy pouring out at the freedom of it all...you were coasting now, taking in sights and savouring the way a light wind whipped at your hair, voice close by to let you know Levi was right there too, soaring high by your side. You couldn't hear what he was saying, no words discernable but that low drawl was so near, almost tangible and you turned, taking your eyes off the route to catch a glimpse of his surely enraptured face.

The man spoke softly, paper in his hands as he hunched over the pile of letters he'd brought with him, all of your correspondence since that first missive stacked up as for what felt like the hundredth time, he read out loud through the white offerings. Sitting on a chair that he'd pulled up to your bedside, Levi kept glancing over, praying for some kind of recognition at his familiar tone, your own thoughts, anything. Finishing off one particular note from more recently, he sighed and looked up, only to be met by your beautiful (e/c) eyes staring out from under barely open lids.

You saw shapes, fuzzy and unformed - perhaps the speed with which you were gliding was too fast to pick up details such as expressions and anyway, the purring male narration had gone, alone again and you huffed with annoyance, pissed that he could leave in the middle of a flight.

"Could've stayed until we landed, fuck sakes."

Unrecognizable speech came from barely moving lips and the dark haired man smiled gently, stroking your hair back and talking in soothing tones.

"It's ok (F/N). I'm here waiting. Now kindly hurry the fuck up and come out of wherever you are. I miss you."

The doctors had warned of this exact occurrence, one which he'd experienced so many times already, the non-lucid wakenings that to you would undoubtedly be spent on some other plain of existence, a dream land of fuck knows what. These instances were seen as a good thing though, the brain organising itself in preparation for full consciousness, your grey matter apparently not yet ready to experience real life just now. The first time it happened, Levi nearly fell out of his seat, convinced that you were coming round so soon and he'd run yelling down the corridors, calling for anyone to come quick - the actual truth hadn't been so clement however, hospital staff advising him that whilst encouraging, this could go on for ages.

Your eyes were closed again, hands fisting at the covers and you twitched, a reaction which made sorrow shoot through his heart. Whatever you were seeing or doing seemed painful.

Back on solid ground, you battled with demons that had no faces, clawed through hundreds of them in an attempt to get to the top, spurred on by the man next to you, his audible chat encouraging you to break out, reach the summit and succeed - succeed at what, you weren't sure but it had to be done, injuries ignored and mouth snarling.

He'd resumed his vocal reading, having moved onto a novel and glasses were pushed up a delicate nose, legs crossed and one palm on you at all times, arm, thigh, stomach...anywhere, he didn't care as long as touch was involved. The door opened a crack, kindly nurse slipping in quietly and giving the speaker a warm smile.

"That's it Levi, keep positive. You're doing the right thing."

"I know but I'm getting a fucking sore throat, Hange."

"And I brought you some juice for that very reason!" The woman in blue passed a carton over, ridiculously small straw looking laughable between tight lips. He muttered his thanks after a long sip and continued the discussion, hell bent on having his voice out there as much as possible.

"She did it again."

"Mmm hmm, honey she's a fighter. Some people never move for weeks...or ever." She hated bringing that up, but the female was a medical professional through and through, sugar coating cracking away now and again. Also, Levi didn't strike her as one to believe in fairy tales, harsh truth preferable to having the proverbial wool pulled over anything. Checking stats, Hange adjusted the small oxygen tube in your nose and peeked under the bed, noting how full the bag was and measuring fluid intake versus output, most of your functions controlled and dealt with by modern machinery. "Needs more..."