[ Of all the things Eren could have said then, out of all the things he could have tried to apologize for, has apologized for, probably nothing else could have been so unexpected and yet an arrow straight to the deepest, most raw part of his heart.
His expression shifts, wide-eyed and blatantly caught-off guard, breath seizing in his chest as he just stares at Eren.
Hange.
What more can it do to me, Levi? I'm already dead.
They're dead, and one day he'll have to let them go to their death, just as he'll have to let go of Erwin. To step aside and let them both go, for reasons he does and doesn't understand. All of the things he doesn't know, everything that leads up to those moments; what went wrong, what truths he will have to accept - a hopeless situation, a mangled body.
They were here, and despite the years that separated them, he had still been able to love them in a way they could never have done before. Or ever. Is this the only place such a thing is possible? What happens after?
Levi can't even fall back on his usual philosophy in absolution of guilt in the way that he could when Petra and the others perished. Eren's decision might have led them to that route, but that didn't make him responsible for their deaths. From what he knows, he can't say that about Hange, fighting to bide them time to escape from a near world-ending catastrophe that Eren not only caused, but orchestrated.
A sharp pain in his chest forces him to take a breath, slow and heavy. Every subsequent one is harder now, his hands rigidly curled in place. It's easier to guide someone else through their grief, to pack his own away and save to look at later. His own grieving is constant, a piece of him that only seems to grow with him as the distance from those he loses also grows with time. A shredded soul, held together by threads.
His eyes drift away from Eren then, before closing against a wave that looms higher than he'd realized. No words come to him, because he can't offer any words of comfort; there is no absolution here, even if hate and blame feel useless as they so often do. Eren already knows his fate, and surely that is torture enough.
It clearly is. For both of them.
There's a familiar, cold knot of ice in his stomach. Rage. Anger that spikes through his veins. But unleashing it at Eren will do no good, doesn't make fucking sense in this moment. Instead it just paralyzes him, caught once again in that loop of uncertainty, barbed by all of the pain that Eren has caused him, will cause.
He packs sorrow and hurt around it, containing all three. It's just enough to stave off the stinging in his eyes, to relieve a little of the pressure in his chest, even though his breathing is still faster, his pulse thick with adrenaline. It keeps his heart from ripping in two.
But words won't come. His forgiveness is too thin for that, yet.
Instead, Levi just brings Eren in closer again, hands hard enough to hurt, and only then lets his expression crumple into abject grief, where it can't be seen. ]
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His expression shifts, wide-eyed and blatantly caught-off guard, breath seizing in his chest as he just stares at Eren.
Hange.
What more can it do to me, Levi? I'm already dead.
They're dead, and one day he'll have to let them go to their death, just as he'll have to let go of Erwin. To step aside and let them both go, for reasons he does and doesn't understand. All of the things he doesn't know, everything that leads up to those moments; what went wrong, what truths he will have to accept - a hopeless situation, a mangled body.
They were here, and despite the years that separated them, he had still been able to love them in a way they could never have done before. Or ever. Is this the only place such a thing is possible? What happens after?
Levi can't even fall back on his usual philosophy in absolution of guilt in the way that he could when Petra and the others perished. Eren's decision might have led them to that route, but that didn't make him responsible for their deaths. From what he knows, he can't say that about Hange, fighting to bide them time to escape from a near world-ending catastrophe that Eren not only caused, but orchestrated.
A sharp pain in his chest forces him to take a breath, slow and heavy. Every subsequent one is harder now, his hands rigidly curled in place. It's easier to guide someone else through their grief, to pack his own away and save to look at later. His own grieving is constant, a piece of him that only seems to grow with him as the distance from those he loses also grows with time. A shredded soul, held together by threads.
His eyes drift away from Eren then, before closing against a wave that looms higher than he'd realized. No words come to him, because he can't offer any words of comfort; there is no absolution here, even if hate and blame feel useless as they so often do. Eren already knows his fate, and surely that is torture enough.
It clearly is. For both of them.
There's a familiar, cold knot of ice in his stomach. Rage. Anger that spikes through his veins. But unleashing it at Eren will do no good, doesn't make fucking sense in this moment. Instead it just paralyzes him, caught once again in that loop of uncertainty, barbed by all of the pain that Eren has caused him, will cause.
He packs sorrow and hurt around it, containing all three. It's just enough to stave off the stinging in his eyes, to relieve a little of the pressure in his chest, even though his breathing is still faster, his pulse thick with adrenaline. It keeps his heart from ripping in two.
But words won't come. His forgiveness is too thin for that, yet.
Instead, Levi just brings Eren in closer again, hands hard enough to hurt, and only then lets his expression crumple into abject grief, where it can't be seen. ]