Chapter Text
The air stank of iodine and sulfur and sweat. He smelled shit and fear. That was what Hell would have smelled like, if there was a Hell. He was lying flat on his back, looking up, not at anything he could identify as a "ceiling", but at an indistinct, shifting darkness above him. Shapes were moving around him, voices murmuring nearby, but as he was gazing straight up, he couldn't see who they were or what they were doing. He couldn't make out a single word that they were saying, their indistinct speech a low, constant droning. Somewhere, someone screamed. And screamed again.
He was aware of a terrible pain, all over his body, but sharpest in his leg. His leg was burning. It had been set on fire. It was going to consume him. Who had done this to him? Bastards. He had to put out the fire. He had to fight the bastards. He'd kill them. He'd make them sorry they'd done this to him. He struggled to sit up, but he couldn't move. Although he couldn't see anything above him, a tremendous weight was pressing on him, holding down his entire body. A tremendous weight was crushing him, crushing him to death.
"Levi--Levi, wake up."
Levi opened his eyes to find a hand pressing down on his chest--not with any force, lightly resting there. Levi glared at the hand, then looked up into its owner's blue eyes, which were fixed on him with some concern.
"You were shifting in your sleep," Erwin explained. He didn't mention that this had happened before and would happen again. By "shifting", he probably meant "thrashing", but he was too politic to say so. Both of them had nightmares. They didn't ask each other about them. Erwin had been known to volunteer information about what he'd been dreaming, but Levi never did. He wasn't about to complain about dreams.
"Good. It's time I got up." He glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight, later than he usually slept.
He tried to sit up, but as in the dream, he met resistance, although, it was only a slight pressure from Erwin's hand. "Stay in bed a little longer. It's your day off."
Levi grunted. "I have things to do." Idleness made his skin itch. He didn't like days off. He'd done his best to avoid them altogether before Erwin had moved in. He pushed at Erwin's hand, and Erwin drew it back, but then leaned in to kiss him.
"I have things to do, too," he said, pressing his lips to Levi's cheek, and then his mouth. "We could do them together." Erwin's hand returned, but this time it stroked Levi's chest instead of pushing. Levi was very aware of his own bare skin and the warmth of Erwin's skin against it. Erwin's tongue slid into his mouth. Levi was wearing nothing but pajama pants, and it was a matter of a single, simple motion of Erwin's hand for it to slide down over Levi's body, hook a finger under the waistband of his pants, and pull, exposing Levi's hips and the thin line of dark hair that ran from just beneath his navel downwards.
There were things about days off that weren't so bad, but Levi wasn't in the mood to make things so easy for Erwin. He put both hands on Erwin's chest and pushed. Not hard. Enough to make that stubborn hand withdraw again. "Shower first."
"I'd be glad to shower with you, if you'll accompany me."
Erwin knew what he meant but was being a smartass, as usual. "No. You take a shower." His insistence on Erwin cleaning himself first wasn't a given, but he didn't want to let him get away with too much. If he did that--well, Erwin would have gotten away with too much, and Levi couldn't have that. If he let that go on, eventually Erwin would take over everything.
Erwin acquiesced to his request, unashamed by his nakedness as he rose and let the covers fall away. What a showoff. It was cold as fuck. Any normal person would have put something on once they'd left the blankets behind. Levi frowned as he watched Erwin move across the floor, granting him a generous view of the muscles of his long back, his ass, and his thickly muscled thighs. His broad shoulders, too, were nice to look at, and the severe scarring across them, and the little that remained of his right arm, couldn't mar the overall picture. Levi had seen too many injuries and had dealt with their aftermath too often to romanticize them, but the scars and the asymmetry were a part of Erwin's body. Levi was being deliberately tempted, but he wouldn't give in. He folded his arms over his chest, refusing to react. Annoyingly, he was aware that if Erwin had asked him to come shower with him a second time, he would have gone. Erwin didn't ask.
Not until Erwin had shut the bathroom door did Levi get up. His first act was to get a sweater from the closet, because he was a normal person who hated being cold and didn't walk around naked in the winter. Then he went into the kitchen to make some tea. He knew Erwin wouldn't rush in the bathroom. If he took a one minute shower in his hurry to get back, Levi would give him shit about it and say he had to start over. He wouldn't mean it, but once that happened, there was a fifty percent chance that Erwin would obligingly and amusedly take another shower, and a fifty percent chance that he would take another shower and pull Levi in with him. Levi saw no problem with either scenario.
Levi filled the kettle and put it on the stove. With a twist of his wrist he made the gas of the burner flare up into flame. Then he filled the percolator with water and ground some coffee, and soon enough the percolator was making its usual liquid hissing and sighing noises. Levi didn't dislike coffee, but he preferred tea, and the reverse was true of Erwin, so when Levi had the time, he made both.
The phone rang. It was in the kitchen, attached to the wall near the kitchen table, so Levi didn't have to leave the stove unattended. "Levi speaking." He was brisk but polite. It could have been someone from work. It could have been anyone.
There was a silence on the line.
"Hello?" Levi asked.
"Hello. Is Erwin there?" It was a woman's voice, not one he recognized. That meant nothing. Erwin had too many friends and associates for him to keep track of. He was always going to meetings, talking to people, making connections; things that didn't come easily to Levi happened naturally for Erwin. Not that Levi wanted to go to a lot of meetings and talk to a lot of pains in the ass.
"He'll be back in a minute." Levi saw no reason to tell the woman what Erwin was doing. It was unnecessary information.
"I see. Could you tell him to call me back as soon as he gets in? It's urgent."
It must have been urgent, because she hadn't told him who she was, and he guessed from the tone of her voice that she was about to hang up. He asked quickly, "Who am I supposed to tell him to call?"
"Oh, of course. It's Sarah Zacharius. Thank you!"
She ended the call, and he hung up the phone. Zacharius. He knew the name. How could he not? He'd heard the stories about Erwin's childhood, his adolescence, his Army days--his whole life before Levi had met him. Most of them were stories about Zacharius--not Sarah, but Mike, her son. Erwin's best friend. More than that. It was like one of those stupid, sappy romance movies--two kids growing up together and falling in love. Or it would have been like a romance movie if the children hadn't both been boys and not eligible to have love stories about them shown in theaters. Mike had died in the war. Levi knew all about that, too. He'd met Erwin shortly after it had happened. Erwin had been different, then--hollow, cold, and furious. And a fucking terrible patient.
Levi didn't know as much about Sarah Zacharius as he did about her son, but she had been like a second mother to Erwin, and they still spoke often. Usually it was Erwin who called Sarah. Levi had never answered the phone to find her on the other end. They'd never talked. As close as Sarah and Erwin were, she didn't know what Levi was to Erwin.
Whenever someone from Erwin's old life called, Levi felt distant, like he was being pushed away. No matter how many stories Erwin told him, he'd never be a part of that time. He had no connection to the things that had meant so much to Erwin, that had raised him and shaped him. He had no place in Erwin's past. He didn't want one. He didn't want to serve in the goddamn Army or get lost in the cornfields of Iowa, but the jungles of Vietnam and the cornfields of Iowa might rise up and swallow Erwin again. He'd vanish. The past would take him away. Levi suspected he wasn't as important as everything that had come before.
Who did Sarah Zacharius think he was? A friend? A friend who happened to be over at eight in the morning. No, a roommate. That would have made more sense. That was probably what Erwin had told her. I share an apartment with a roommate. Technically, it was true, but technically didn't count in this case. Did anyone believe that lie anymore? There must have been some men remaining in New York who had ordinary roommates, roommates they didn't sleep with, but Erwin wasn't one of them.
The coffee and tea were ready by the time Erwin emerged from the shower and dried himself off. He'd had the decency to wrap a towel around his waist. Levi was standing at the counter, pouring the tea, and Erwin's arm slid around him, pulling him close. Levi kept pouring the tea, then set the teapot down. Erwin's breath was hot on his ear. Erwin smelled like soap and his shampoo, like mint. He smelled good. Levi knew what he wanted. He was tempted to seize Erwin and bend him over the counter, but he'd gotten that phone call. It was urgent. It had sounded urgent. Not because Sarah had been upset, as she'd controlled her tone well, but there'd been an edge to her voice, an excitement, a confusion. She'd sounded like someone who needed to talk to Erwin. So he let Erwin nuzzle his ear and passed on the message. "You got a call."
"From who?"
"Sarah Zacharius."
"Sarah? Why would she be calling now?"
It was an hour earlier in Iowa, so it was a strange time to call your dead son's best friend. Levi shrugged. He was just the messenger. "She said it was urgent."
The playfulness in Erwin's manner faded, and he stepped away, turning toward the phone. "I'll have to call her, then."
Levi wasn't a part of this, so he didn't stay. Erwin could have his privacy during his important phone call. He took his tea with him, back to the bedroom. It wasn't that he didn't care what was happening, but it wasn't his business, and he wasn't going to stand there listening in. If Erwin needed him, he could call for him or come to get him. He set his tea down on the bedside table, the cup sitting carefully inside its saucer. It was purely white and without a single crack. He could still appreciate the luxury of this. He hadn't had anything so nice when he'd been a kid, nothing but chipped, cracked cups, most of them with no handles or broken ones. Once a cup was cracked, you could never truly get it clean. The dirt lurked in the crack, deep down. Where he'd lived, everything had been like that. No matter how you tried to scrub it away, the filth remained. Even if you pushed it down, later, it wormed its way out again.
Levi wasn't eavesdropping, but Erwin had raised his voice, and the apartment wasn't large enough and its walls not thick enough to keep the noise from his ears. "How is that possible? I don't--"
Erwin's voice lowered again, and Levi asked himself which thing Erwin thought was impossible had happened. Was it Erwin's mother? If something happened to Erwin's mother, it would be Mrs. Zacharius who called. Levi picked up his teacup very carefully, holding it by the rim. The handle was an ornament, as far as he was concerned. It was too weak. It couldn't be trusted. He breathed in the aroma of the tea, letting it linger in his nose, savoring it. He took a sip. He had steeped it perfectly. There was no sugar in it and no milk, just the tea itself. It was strong without being bitter. Levi didn't like praying, but if he had had someone to pray to, he would have prayed that whatever it was that had happened wouldn't bring back Erwin's pain and rage. Erwin, as Levi had eventually come to know him, was a controlled, calm person, which made the state he had been in when Levi had met him all the more striking a memory. Not that Erwin's state of mind had been surprising. People had every reason to get mad when their lives were blown apart.
Levi didn't pray, so he narrowed his lips and waited, with the taste of tea in his mouth.
Although he couldn't make out any more words, he could hear the low tones of Erwin talking in the kitchen, and he was aware of it when he hung up the phone. After that, there was silence. No sound of Erwin returning to the bedroom. Levi put down his teacup, steeling himself. If it was bad, he'd have to act. He had no idea what he'd do. He had to find out what the problem was, first.
Erwin was sitting at the table, leaning forward, with his hand over his face. He was still, but not entirely so. His shoulders shook, faintly. As Levi crossed the floor, Erwin gave no sign that he was aware of his approaching presence, or aware of anything. Levi came to stand at his side. When Erwin didn't stir, Levi placed a hand on his back, and Erwin looked up. Whatever his expression had been, hidden behind his fingers, it was calm when he turned to face Levi. His eyes were shining, but there were no tears on his face. He didn't say anything at first. He stared at Levi as if he'd never seen him before. There was no grief. There was something. He'd changed. There was a new tension in his body, an agitation he was keeping in check.
"What is it?" Levi asked.
"Mike's alive," said Erwin.
"Alive?" Levi asked automatically, uncomprehendingly. That was a word he'd never learned to associate with Mike, whose death had cut Erwin so deeply, leaving a wound deeper and more dangerous than the one that had taken his arm. The idea that Mike might not be dead was one that he'd never considered. Even Erwin, who could have clung to the fact that his body hadn't been found, had accepted the fact of his death.
"He wasn't killed. He was taken prisoner. The North Vietnamese are set to release US POWs as part of a treaty agreement. They've told the families first."
"They're sure it's him?" Being wrong about this would be an egregious fuckup, even for the Army, but egregious fuckups were made every day.
Erwin answered immediately. He must have asked Mike's mother the same question. It was difficult to believe. "Absolutely sure. Mike's very ill, but he was able to give his name and service number. They'll be bringing them back in a few months."
How was Levi supposed to react? What should he feel? Who expected to find out that a person you'd always thought of as dead had been alive all along? Not well, but alive. That almost mythical character from Erwin's old stories. He was flesh and blood, someone who might walk into a room, who could be met and spoken to: a messy combination of flesh and feeling, like any living person. Levi's first thought, as a therapist, was that the guy must be in terrible shape. He'd been imprisoned for what--six, seven years? Who knew what they'd done to him. Who was going to treat him? Levi had mixed feelings about Army doctors. There were good ones and unbelievably shitty ones. He also didn't want some incompetent shithead treating Erwin's friend once he got back to Cornhole, Iowa.
His second thought was a more assholish one. If Mike was back from the dead, then what about him? If the person Erwin had grown up with was around, the person he'd been so caught up in and so devastated about losing, what would Erwin want with Levi? He was a later addition. A lesser addition. "Good," he said, pushing down his resentment. There was nothing else he could say. "About time they got their shit in order and got something useful done." He meant the Army, the government. Emotional conversations were better avoided, but Erwin would appreciate any insults leveled at the government. He was predictable that way.
Erwin smiled at him. It wasn't a big smile, not some stupid grin. It was a brief quirk of his lips, but as subtle as it was, Levi had seldom seen him so happy. It was his eyes that had changed. There was a warmth in them that hadn't been there before the phone call--had it?
This was ridiculous. It was ridiculous to feel jealous over some poor bastard who'd been stuck in a Vietnamese prison for more than half a decade. "I hope your friend's the smart one. Someone needs to pound some sense into your head."
"No," said Erwin. "You're the smart one." He rose to his feet, his arm coming around Levi again as he pulled him close.
Levi gritted his teeth, then pushed a disdainful puff of air between his lips, one of his standard reactions to such displays of affection. He didn't push Erwin away when Erwin tightened his grasp, then leaned down to kiss the top of his head.
"I have to go, Levi."
Every muscle in Levi's body tensed. Go? For one moment, he thought Erwin was going away now, was going to go right back to Iowa and wait for his friend, move back in with his mother and leave everything here behind. For Mike. This person he loved, who'd been dead, who Levi didn't know. Wasn't that what you did, for your best friend? You gave up everything for them. You'd do anything for them. Especially after you lost them, when you'd thought you'd never see them again.
"I need to take a walk, clear my head. I have to think this through. It's a lot to take in."
"Right. A walk." If Erwin was going to leave, it wouldn't be an impulse decision. He wasn't like that. He'd consider all the factors, weigh his options. "Don't forget to wear a coat. You're flesh and blood." Erwin was far too dismissive about the cold. Acting like he didn't need human garments, such as scarves and hats. How cold did it get in Iowa? Levi had lived here all his life, except for his time in the Marines, and he wasn't used to the winters here.
"I know that very well, Levi. If I ever had any illusions regarding my invincibility, I lost them long ago." He kissed Levi again, his forehead this time, then his cheek. Levi stood very still, resisting the urge to turn and catch Erwin's mouth with his own. "I'll probably be back in a few hours."
There was nothing odd about it. It was like Erwin to want to be alone with his thoughts. He shouldn't read anything into it. "Yeah. I'll be here."
"Try to relax."
"I'll relax when I'm dead," Levi shot back. "Plenty of time then."
Erwin drew back, gazing down at his face. Sizing him up. What was he thinking? Was he comparing him to Mike? "That isn't the same thing. I'm hoping to spend more time with you before then."
"I'll think about it."
Erwin's hand moved lightly over his face. "You're too generous."
"You gonna wear your arm?" Levi sniffed, ignoring his sarcasm.
"No, it's not necessary today."
Sometimes Erwin left the prosthetic off as a political statement: to show people what happened to soldiers in the war, using that physical symbol of what they'd lost, to make them uncomfortable--but this wasn't one of those times. Levi preferred that he wear it, but Erwin was stubborn, and he didn't insist. Erwin didn't need his help with the prosthetic if he wasn't going to wear it, and he was able to dress himself, but Levi followed him into the bedroom nonetheless, seating himself on the bed. Erwin was no longer in the mood to fuck, but that was fine. Levi had gone more than ten years without fucking before meeting him. He could always wait. He watched Erwin rummage through the closet for clothes, then let his towel fall. He could enjoy the sight without getting hard. He didn't feel much like fucking, either. They didn't talk as Erwin dressed. Erwin was too caught up in his thoughts, and Levi had nothing to say.
"There. Do you like my coat?" Erwin turned in place, modeling it for him, and Levi sighed at his posing. Erwin's right sleeve hung empty at his side. Levi rose. He was used to pinning Erwin's sleeve up for him, so he moved automatically, the pins in his hand without him having to think about it. He carried out the actions expertly, quickly. He knew what he was doing. It was like any other day. Except it wasn't.
Erwin was smiling again. "He's alive," he said, as if he still couldn't believe it. He shook his head.
Levi couldn't not be happy for him. He had to be happy. He'd force himself, if that was what it came to. He didn't smile, but he leaned forward to rest his forehead against Erwin's chest. "He should be." Although he felt another selfish pang of jealousy, heated with resentment and sharpened by worry, he meant it. He shouldn't have died. Why should any of those men have died? Sure, some of them were bastards and assholes, and most of them Levi would have disliked, but that didn't mean he believed they should be dead. They should be alive. Erwin should get to have his friend back. He was going to have him back. He was a lucky man.
"I'll see you soon. All right?" Erwin kissed him again. His mouth, this time. Levi parted his lips for him. He opened himself up. He wouldn't do that for anyone else.
"Don't hurry back," said Levi, with a harshness he didn't feel. He was joking, but it was better that Erwin was going. Levi could use the time alone, too. He had to bend himself back into shape, to untwist his emotions and reshape them into something more acceptable.
"I'll keep that in mind." Erwin kissed the top of his head again, a gesture that mildly annoyed Levi, as it made him feel young. Erwin was the young one. Not even thirty yet, and Levi was past forty. Damn, he was too old for this. He didn't see Erwin to the door, because Erwin was a grown man who lived here and who could find his own way out.
Without Erwin, the apartment was quiet. He didn't turn on the stereo or the TV. The percolator and kettle were silent, but the air smelled of coffee and tea. He returned to the kitchen and poured out the coffee. It was going to be cold by the time Erwin got back. He watched the dark liquid stream down into the drain. He could make more. He'd been meaning to get one of those new coffee makers for Erwin, but he hadn't gotten around to it yet. Mr. Coffee. It was a stupid name. Maybe he wouldn't get one after all. There would be no point, if no one was going to be drinking coffee here.
He had to stop thinking this way. He had to think that it was good. They'd killed one less kid than everyone thought. He had to accept it for what it was.
Levi poured himself another cup of tea. He stared out the narrow kitchen window at the gray city. Erwin was out there. Somewhere, thousands of miles away, those POWs must have been told they were going to be released, or else they were already in an Army hospital. Mike Zacharius was sitting and thinking--what? Probably about the same thing. That he couldn't fucking believe it. Levi tried to imagine meeting him and failed. That wasn't a surprise. He didn't consider himself an imaginative person. It might not ever happen, anyway. Why would Mike want to meet him?
Right. There was no point in imagining anything. He had to face facts. If he was going to be left alone, then he'd be left alone. He'd dealt with it before. He could deal with it again.