Archive of Our Own

The battlefield was chaos.

It was always chaos. It never looked like the neat diagrams they’d studied in classes, or like the practice sessions they’d had in the training grounds. It was chaos, loud and bloody, and it took everything Armin had to see the patterns in the mess.

He gathered his reins, squinted at the fights going on in the distance. A piercing scream briefly broke his concentration, a man lifted straight from his saddle to the Titan’s mouth, but he couldn’t let that stop him, couldn’t let it distract him. He had to focus, damn it all. He was of no use to anyone if he allowed himself to be sidetracked.

Reinforcements came thundering in, just in time. Mikasa, next to him, tugged at her reins and turned her horse to face him. “Armin,” she said softly. “Tell them where to go.”

He looked over his shoulder. The newly-arrived men looked grim but still confused, hesitant. As if they couldn’t see where they had to go, but wasn’t it obvious? A situation like that, all they had to do was split up and ride in in a pincer movement but –

But the one at the front had already started off, riding head-on into the action.

“No!” Armin yelled, on instinct. “Not all at once! Two squads to the east, the other on the west side!”

The men halted and stared at Armin in surprise. Armin’s cheeks flushed. Who could blame them for their surprise? It's not like he had any right to order around experienced soldiers like that, expect them to obey without question, but - 

“Listen to him.”

Armin jumped and whirled in his saddle. Levi had shown up out of nowhere, blood streaking his face and blades steaming.

“Captain!” The squad leader of the reinforcements saluted. “What – ”

“You heard him,” Levi said impatiently. “Two to the east, others to the west. Now get moving!”

“Yessir!”

They rode off. Armin looked after them for a moment, then turned to say thank you to Levi - it wasn't the first time the Captain had backed him like that, and Armin had yet to show his appreciation for it.

But Levi had already taken off again.

“Come on,” Mikasa said impatiently. “We need to move. Armin?”

“Yes, yes.” Armin gathered the reins, urging his horse on. He looked one more time over his shoulder at the retreating squads, and fought against a sudden wave of nausea.

If only he could be certain that he’d led them right.

***

The safety of HQ had never felt more welcoming, when they returned that night. Everywhere Armin looked he could see his own relief, reflected on other people’s faces. They had survived. They had made it back home.

For now, they would live.

And finally Armin had some time to think.

He sat down, leaning against the wall, arms around his bent legs, and closed his eyes. Once again he’d gone into battle and had somehow, despite that always present terror, managed to pull apart the patterns, see order in all the chaos. And - even more than last time -  he’d actually been able to do something with that knowledge. People had listened to him. Veterans. Men thrice his age. They had followed his advice, just like that –

Well, no. Not just like that. They’d stared at him like he’d grown a second head, and had only obeyed because Levi had told them to. Armin was pretty sure that without Levi, none of those men would have spared him another second of their attention, let alone obey what essentially came down to an order. But Levi had backed Armin, and in the Legion, Levi’s word was law.

But why had Levi backed him?

Armin opened his eyes again. “What do you think of Levi?”

“He’s a shithead,” Mikasa said, without missing a beat.

Eren choked. “He’s not,” he spluttered indignantly, once he’d regained his breath. “Levi? He’s – ”

“A shithead,” Mikasa repeated, calm enough but with a glint in her eyes.

Eren shook his head. “He’s just – just trying his best in a difficult situation.”

“He beat you to a pulp just to prove a point,” Mikasa said, impatience starting to break through.

“Because there was no other way to convince the court! If it hadn’t been for them, I would have ended up being dissected by the Military Police!”

“He took it too far.” She turned to Armin, ignoring Eren’s protests. “Why do you ask, Armin?”

“Just… thinking,” Armin said slowly. “He’s been very supportive of me.”

“He should be.” Mikasa wiped her uniform down. “There’s no one else in the Legion who’s as good at strategy as you are.”

“He’s smart enough to see you’re the one to lead us through this mess,” Eren added.

Armin looked down, picking at his fingers. “I… It’s just a little unexpected.”

“Why?”

“He’s a veteran, and I’m only a recruit. I don’t – I don’t have the experience they all do.”

“Experience isn’t everything,” Mikasa said. “And obviously Captain shortass thinks that too. What’s the problem, Armin?”

“I don’t know.” Armin chewed his lip. “It’s – It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just that I’m not sure if I deserve it.”

“Of course you deserve it,” Eren said indignantly.

“Maybe.” Armin folded his hands together, forcing himself to stop fidgeting. “It’s just… I don’t know why he supports me. It’s not like I’ve really proven myself to him. And it’s not like he’s the type to just go on blind faith either, right? I just – I don’t get it.”

“Why don’t you ask him, then?” Eren said.

“Ask?” Armin looked up. “As in, talk? To Levi?”

“He’s not as bad as he seems,” Eren pointed out. “I spent a while with just him and his squad, remember? He can be a little intimidating and he doesn’t have much patience with foolish people, but I’m sure he’ll listen to what you’ve got to say. He’s very reasonable, you know.”

“I can’t just go up and say – I don’t know, that I want to know why he’s being nice to me? That I feel insecure?” Armin bit his lip. “I can’t, he’d – what would he think of me?”

“Ask him and you’ll know,” Mikasa said calmly.

Armin shook his head. “This is stupid. I’m being stupid. I’ll just – ”

“Armin.” Mikasa took his jaw and tilted his head to her. “Are you going to be able to let it rest?”

He blinked rapidly. “Uh… “

“Then talk to him.” She sat back and turned to Eren. “Come on, show me your arm, it needs a new bandage.”

And just like that, the conversation was closed.

***

It took until nightfall before Armin had gathered the courage to go up to Levi’s room. 

It wasn’t that he was afraid of Levi, not really. Not that much more than he was of the other veterans, anyway. It was just that he was extremely aware of how much experience Levi had, how good he was at what he did. And of course it didn’t really help that Levi had a reputation of being irritable and impatient and harsh, but the worst of it was… Someone like Levi made him feel – even more than usual – painfully aware of how inexperienced and young and weak he really was.

If there was a scale where Levi was at the top, Armin would be on the bottom of it.

He gritted his teeth and raised his hand. It was shaking, but he still managed to knock.

 “Who is it?” Levi’s voice came from behind the door.

“Armin Arlert. Uh, sorry, I can come back la-”

“Come on in.”

Armin took a deep breath, then pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Levi was lying on his bed, arms folded behind his head. He was still in full uniform, only his boots off. His pale bare feet looked weirdly incongruous with battle-hardened rest of him.

“What is it?” Levi asked, in his usual brusque tone.

“I… wanted to say thank you.”

Levi pushed up to his elbows, gave Armin a steady look, then jerked his chin. “Close the door.”

Armin did, feeling his nerves mount.

“Thank me for?” Levi asked, as soon as the door was closed.

“Supporting me like that, in front of the men. You've done it pretty consistently over the last few days and I don’t… I don’t think anyone would have listened to me without that.”

“Probably not, no.”

Armin flushed. “I – I didn’t intend to put myself forward. I just – just see opportunities, and no one else ever seems to see them, so I – ”

“So you gave them an order.”

“It's not my place, I realise that. I just – I thought it for the good of the Legion, that it would save people. And that’s why I, I – ”

“Why you decided on our strategy,” Levi finished, cold grey eyes fixed on Armin.

Armin's mouth went dry. Levi didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to.

Only a Commander should take strategic decisions.

Armin briefly closed his eyes. “I – I realise it looks like I’m trying to step into the void Commander Smith left,” he said, forcing the words out. “And I – I know that I can’t even begin to fill that void in any way – ”

“That’s true,” Levi said.

Armin swallowed.

“But you’re also the only one who could take that place and not crumble on the spot.” Levi swung his legs down to the floor. “You’re young. You’ll grow. You’re our best option right now, and you’re only going to get better as you learn more.”

“Oh.” Armin looked down. The words were probably meant as encouragement, but they just made him feel worse. “I, uh… Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, I’m just stating the truth.” Levi walked over to the window, then shot Armin a look. “Anything else?”

“Uh, no. I should…” He edged to the door, nerves eating away at him.

Levi frowned at him. “Spit it out.”

“Sorry?”

“Whatever it is you want to say but don’t dare. Either say it or get the fuck out.”

Armin glanced at the door. It was tempting to just run out, but – But if he did that, insecurity would continue to eat away at him.

So he turned to Levi. “I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing,” he said, hesitantly. “When I – the things I see, the options, the strategies. That I’m taking the right decisions. I – I thought about asking you for advice, but –”

“You can’t do that in front of the men,” Levi finished. “Or they’ll start questioning your judgement.”

“Exactly. So it’s just me, and you – you seem to trust me on this but what if I – ”

“Don’t worry,” Levi cut him off. “If I don’t agree with something you decide I’ll take it up with you. In private, so it doesn’t undermine your authority.”

“Is that what you and Erwin did?”

Levi actually looked a little surprised, but that was nothing compared to the surprise Armin felt at himself. Sure, he’d speculated a lot on the subject of Erwin and Levi, studied their relationship and the way they acted around each other, theorized, but he never thought he’d be brave enough to actually talk to either of them about it.

Yet here he was, and his words were out there and there was no way he could take them back.

“Yes,” Levi said, eyeing Armin. “At least, I tried to.”

“So you did disagree with him?” Armin asked, pushing on before he lost his nerve.

“Often enough. But he wanted me to keep it between us.” Levi leaned his shoulder against the wall. “I’d come find him afterwards, in his room. Either he explained his reasoning to me and I changed my opinion, or I pointed out a flaw or an aspect he hadn’t yet considered and he would change his opinion. Or, well…” He shrugged. “Sometimes he would explain and I’d still disagree.”

“What happened then?” Armin asked, fascinated.

“He’d beat me into submission.”

“Oh,” Armin said, feeling his cheeks turn bright-red.

Levi cocked his head, looking at Armin as if he was suddenly seeing him in a different light. “You didn’t know?”

“I – no. No, I didn’t.”

“Huh. Guess they really don’t gossip after all.”

“Who?”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “The veterans. The people who knew me when I just arrived here.”

“They – They don’t talk about that. They respect you too much.”

Levi huffed in derision and turned away, looking out of the window. Armin looked at the floor, cheeks still hot.

Beat me into submission.

Immediately the memories returned, of Levi wailing on Eren, meeting every sign of resistance with violence. Was that what Erwin had done to Levi? Torture him into agreeing? But that couldn’t be sustainable, surely? How do you build a relationship of trust and obedience on a foundation of violence?

“I don’t understand,” Armin said softly.

Levi didn’t speak.

Armin eyed the door. Any moment now Levi would send him out, or possibly even forcibly throw him out, punishing him for daring to presume he had any right to –

“I couldn’t adjust to life in the Corps.”

Armin jolted in surprise. “What?”

“At first,” Levi said, contemplatively. “When I just joined up. I was used to looking after myself, making my own decisions. Being part of a bigger whole was something new. Something I didn’t believe in, at first.”

“You were too independent,” Armin said, eyes fixed on Levi’s thoughtful face.

“Basically, yes. And that can be a fucking disaster for a group as closely-knit as the Legion. So he had to make me see sense, and the only way he could do that was violence. It was the only thing I listened to. The only thing I knew, really.” Levi fell silent.

Armin blinked. This kind of honesty was… unusual for Levi, to say the least. A thousands questions were popping up in Armin’s mind, but he didn’t dare to say a word, just in case he would break this fragile thread of connection, which for some reason was making Levi open up to him.

“It… worked,” Levi continued. “In a way. It created something between us. And gradually, he taught me the value of listening, seeing reason. The bigger picture. He showed me he could just persuade me with words. And I started to trust him. Eventually.”

“And the violence?” Armin prompted carefully.

“It stayed. But it… It became something else along the way. Less persuading, more… I don’t know.” Levi frowned, lost in thought. “What we did inside the privacy of his bedroom in a way reflected the way we were outside, on the battlefield. Except within that room, everything was contained. No risks, no distractions. Just us. I suspect that’s part of why we worked well together. We knew each other, knew how we would react to actions of the other.”

Armin stared.

“And for me, there was something reassuring in it,” Levi added.

“Reassuring?” Armin asked, voice a little hoarse.

“Some people need to feel someone’s foot on their neck occasionally. Someone to push against.” Levi glanced at him. “Eren does. I’m sure you’ve noticed that.”

Armin shook his head, trying to dislodge his sudden confusion. “I – Eren? I don’t know. I wouldn’t have put it like that, but…”

“And so did I.”

“Do you still?”

Levi looked at him, those grey eyes calm and cool. Levi never smiled, but there was still some kind of amusement in his expression when he asked, “Why, are you offering?”

“I, erm, didn’t, just – ” Armin spluttered, his entire face flaming in horrified embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to – ”

“Well, if you ever do mean it, you know where I am.”

Armin choked, coughed, then managed to stammer, “I should, uh, go.”

“You should.”

Armin fled.

***

It was stupid.

It was beyond stupid, it was ridiculous. Levi was – was a lot older than him, for one thing, and vastly more experienced not just in tactics and battle but in – in other matters too. The thought of Armin taking – somehow doing – beating –

He forced his imagination to a halt.

What worried him the most was that he’d had no trouble realising what Levi had meant, when he had talked about violence in the bedroom. Instinctively. Which was odd, because he had no experience whatsoever when it came to sex, and violence had always been something he viewed as a means to an end, a distasteful but necessary thing he needed to accept. He’d never thought of combining the two. But now…

Levi was just mocking him. He could be harsh, right? Vicious.

But never cruel. He never hurt someone just to humiliate them. Everything he did, he did because he thought it the best option, Armin had realised that fairly early on. Levi somehow teasing him just didn’t add up.

So the only option was that –

Once again his imagination briefly lost control and Armin had to force himself to calm down. Sure, he’d managed to improve his strength a bit since joining the Legion, but Levi could still snap him in two without even breaking a sweat. Levi would never take Armin seriously, not like that.

Except he did, he did follow Armin’s orders out on the field, and maybe he wouldn’t mind doing that in other conditions as –

“Deep thoughts?”

“Argh!”  Armin whirled. Mikasa raised one dark eyebrow.

“Guilty conscience?” she asked.

“Just – thinking about complicated things.”

She sat down next to him. “How did the talk with Levi go?”

“I’m not sure. I think he’s got my back. But he’s…” Armin rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Mikasa asked softly.

“I feel like I’m taking Erwin’s place.” Armin gave her a brief, troubled look. “But Erwin and Levi had a connection, and I can’t be so presumptuous as to take over that connection.”

“You’ll just have to build your own connection, then.”

“Similar to theirs? Because I don’t know if I can.” He smiled ruefully. “Erwin was always so – so sure of himself. I don’t know what I’m doing half of the time.”

“Yes you do. You just doubt yourself. Few others do.”

“I’m not Erwin,” Armin said firmly.

“No. You’re you. And you’ve got strengths Erwin didn’t have. You just need to trust yourself.” She leaned her shoulder against his. “And we’re going to need it.”

“Do we?” Armin asked, surprised.

“We’re going out again, tomorrow.” She looked at him. “We received our orders. Eren and I will be on the frontlines.”

“And me?”

“The center of the formation. Command post, and you’re to decide on our strategy.” She tilted her head. “Levi’s express orders.”

Armin’s stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Are you – are you sure?”

“Yes. Armin…” She took his hand and squeezed. “You’ll do fine. Just forget about everyone else and what they might think, and do what you’re best at.”

He looked at her. “And what if I mess it up?”

Mikasa gave him a small half-smile. “I don’t think you’re even capable of messing up.”

***

The next few days Armin didn’t have much time to dwell on anything beyond battle tactics. The constant attacks and raids demanded all of his attention; he couldn’t spare even one stray second on anything but strategy.

He was startled to find how quickly and easily he took to the position. Levi had made it clear to everyone that Armin was now to be considered the Legion’s chief strategist, and that all Armin’s orders were to be followed without question, but Armin hadn’t it expected to go so – so smoothly. Sure, the men hadn’t been too happy about it initially, but Armin…

He’d been expecting doubt, and fear, and mindnumbing panic, but instead – instead he just threw around orders like he’d never done anything else. He did what he had to do. He said what he saw. He simply didn’t have time for thoughts of inadequacy or fear, and so much to his surprise he actually did a decent job.

He was equally surprised by the way he almost immediately started to rely on Levi. To carry his orders, to take initiative when Armin was busy elsewhere, to give Armin all the correct and relevant information without wasting time on irrelevant stuff. Levi was invaluable, not just because of his skills in battle or the way his he enforced the obedience of everyone else, but because of how unconditionally and completely he put those skills at Armin’s service.

They worked well, together. Even Armin had to admit that, when they finally retreated back behind the walls and did a headcount. Few had died, compared to other missions.

Few. Not none.

He was exhausted. Thinking out plans and strategies had always been a second nature to him, but this, this was something else. The constant strain – and the people, depending on him, asking his opinion. That was new, that was different. He was so used to being somewhere in the background, in the shadows, so that suddenly being shoved into the spotlight was –

Worrying.

He rubbed his forehead. He longed for peace and quiet, but at the same time he was buzzing with a kind of nervous energy, sparking across his skin and refusing to back down. And he didn’t have a clue how to stop it, how to –

Armin froze. His neck tingled. He turned.

Levi was standing across the hallway, looking thoughtfully at Armin.

“Armin?”

Armin whirled. Eren was standing in front of him, eyes wide and grin huge. He’d collapse in exhaustion soon enough, but right now he still seemed to be riding the high. “Yes?” Armin asked.

“Come on, let’s go to the mess. Have a drink.” Eren clapped him on the shoulder. “Let people congratulate you.”

Armin shuddered. “No, I’m – I’m tired. I’m going up. Thanks for the offer.”

“Sure?” Eren asked, frowning.

“Yes. You did well today,” he added, and Eren brightened up again. “Tell the squad I said hi.”

“I will.” Eren squeezed Armin’s shoulder, eyes shining, then took off.

Armin watched him for a moment or two, then sighed and headed for the stairs.

***

He couldn’t sleep.

He should sleep. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn’t. His mind was still working at top speed – it was as if he’d never left the battlefield, as if he was still on his horse, galloping in the wilds. He could still smell the acrid smoke of the signal guns. Still hear the yells, the thundering of the ground as Titans approached. Smell the blood –

He squeezed his eyes shut, then jumped out of bed and started pacing.

Maybe he should have gone down after all, have a drink with the rest of them. Maybe alcohol would have dimmed his thoughts a little. But the thought of facing everyone was weirdly uncomfortable. He hadn’t been able to think of them as his friends for days – sentiment was a dangerous thing when you were out on the field, and he couldn’t allow that to stop him.

But how did he switch this back off?

A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Armin called out absently. Mikasa, probably, or Eren if he’d realised that Armin hadn’t just refused out of tiredness. He looked over his shoulder. “I’m – ”

It was Levi.

 “Is – is there something the matter?” Armin asked nervously as Levi closed the door behind him. “Is something happening? Or - Did I do something wrong?”

“You did good.” Levi leaned back against the door, arms crossed. “Up until now, at least.”

“Sorry?”

“You started fucking up the moment we were back here.” He nodded at Armin. “I can see your thoughts moving behind your eyes. You need to stop that, before you snap.”

Armin’s mouth fell open. He’d tried to hide the way he felt as well as he could, and he assumed he’s succeeded. The thought that someone had seen through that – and not just that, that someone had identified what he felt that accurately – was, was…

Armin shook himself. “But I – I’m not doing this on purpose, I just can’t seem to –  ”

“Then find something to distract yourself with,” Levi interrupted him, mercilessly. He pushed off and turned, reaching for the door.

“Wait!”

Levi looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“I…” Armin stared at him. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he’d called Levi back, other than that the idea of being left alone with his thoughts again suddenly made him sick. “Can you stay? Please? Just a moment.”

Levi turned back, frowning. “If you don’t want to be alone, call up one of your friends.”

“They don’t understand.”

Levi tilted his head back, frown disappearing.

“I can’t stop,” Armin said helplessly. “I can’t switch it off.”

“I told you, you need distraction,” Levi said. “Lying around here brooding isn’t going to do squat.”

“Then what?”

Levi shrugged. Evidently this was something Armin had to decide for himself.

He rubbed his face. Unwanted, the memories of last time they spoke popped back up, and all the complicated emotions and images those brought. A joke, surely, nothing more, and suddenly that idea made Armin so angry that he –

“Why did you say what you did?” Armin asked. “Last time?”

“Why?” Levi echoed.

“There was no need,” Armin said, with some heat. “I know I’d been stupid but to mock me like that was – ”

“I wasn’t mocking you,” Levi said, calmly.

Armin’s mouth went dry. “Oh?”

“I meant what I said.”

“You mean…” Armin swallowed. “You mean you… I…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Armin swallowed again. His throat suddenly felt like it was filled with sand. “I – why?”

“Because it would help you. Teach you some of the fundamentals. And I’d enjoy it, honestly.” Levi shrugged. “You’re a pipsqueak, but you’ve got a mind stronger than any other I’ve seen, and that works for me.”

“I – I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Armin stammered, overwhelmed.

Levi shrugged again. “I could talk you through it.”

Was he really doing this? Was this really happening?

“Don’t you need rest?” Armin asked weakly.

“Eventually, yes. But right now I’m still too wired to sleep, so this would work perfectly.” Levi tilted his head. “If that’s what you want.”

Armin shifted onto his other foot. He stared at Levi, waiting for the joke, the denial, whatever it was that would take that proposal back.

But nothing happened.

If that’s what you want.

“I want this,” Armin said softly, not even entirely sure what this was.

Lev nodded. Then he turned the key, locking them in.

Armin licked his suddenly dry lips. “I don’t – I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how this works.”

“Yes, you do. You just need to push past the embarrassment and the fear of fucking up.” Levi took a few steps closer, then stopped, hands loosely by his side, right in front of Armin. They were almost of a height.

He didn’t say anything else. He just stood there, waiting.

For orders.

“Uh, you…”

Levi still waited.

“Kneel,” Armin said, throat dry.

Something changed in Levi’s expression. He slowly went down to his knees, all the while keeping eye contact with Armin.

So. That had worked. What now?

Armin curled his fingers into a fist. He knew how to hit. Three years of intense training had given him no choice but to pick up a thing or two, no matter how bad he’d been at it compared to some of the others.

But even in a fight he’d often hesitated, even with the threat of someone else about to attack him and the adrenaline and the instinct to defend himself. This? Simply hitting someone without any provocation, any threat?

He looked at Levi. Levi didn’t show a sign of impatience or annoyance. He just waited, for whatever Armin would choose to do to him.

If only Armin could decide what it was he actually wanted.

No, this wasn’t working. So maybe he should – he should switch it around. What had Levi said again? That sometimes he needed the violence, something to push against. Armin could sort of understand that, if he tried, but the real need behind it…

He took a deep breath, centered himself and divided his weight between his feet, raised his fist.

Levi was still looking at him.

Armin hit him across the face.

As far as backhands went, it was a good one. Shadis would have been proud. Levi reeled back with the force, blood on his mouth. Armin slowly lowered his trembling hand.

Levi wiped the blood away, then looked up again. His usually cold expression had warmed up, and –

Oh. Oh.

Before he could think it through, before he could let hesitation stop him, Armin grabbed a handful of Levi’s hair and yanked his head back. Levi strained, eyes still fixed on Armin.

There was approval there, he was sure of it.

He let go and hit Levi again, putting all his weight and momentum behind it. Levi flew down, one hand ending up on the tiles, supporting him. He touched his mouth with his free hand, made to get up.

Armin raised his foot and planted it on the back of Levi’s neck and pushed.

Levi went down.

Armin’s breathing was coming too quickly. He felt like he was teetering on the edge of something, like there was a dam ready to burst.

Was this how Eren felt, when he changed into his Titan shape?

He lifted his foot. “Roll over.”

Levi complied. Armin lowered his foot a little and Levi’s hands came up, taking his ankle, stopping Armin from crushing his throat.

“Let go,” Armin said.

Levi met his eyes. Then he slowly unfolded his fingers and put his hands back on the floor.

Armin put a tiny bit of weight on his leg. He could feel Levi swallow underneath the thin sole of his boot.

“A foot on someone neck,” he said, softly, more to himself than to Levi.

Levi was breathing more heavily too. Something about it –

Armin pulled his foot back and kicked hard at Levi’s midsection. Levi rolled with it, curling into a foetal position. Armin took aim again –

And Levi lifted his hand. “Enough.”

Armin stared.

Then he staggered back, his legs hitting the bed behind him. He put his hand over his mouth, unable to look away as Levi got back to his knees, coughing.

“I’m sorry, I – I didn’t – ”

“Shut up,” Levi snapped.

Armin bit his lip.

Levi straightened up, one hand on his side. He prodded at his ribs, then looked up. “Do you get it now?”

“Are you all right?” Armin asked, still struggling with horror.

“Yeah, of course I am, forget about that. Do you get it?”

Armin looked at Levi’s bleeding face, his burning eyes. He nodded. “I think I – but you, but I – ”

“You’re not a bad person because you beat up someone who enjoys it.” Levi got up and went to the cupboard, where a pitcher and a bowl were waiting. He poured some water and started cleaning his face.

“No,” Armin said, slowly, “but that’s not what this is about, is it?”

“No.” Levi dabbed his lip and checked in the mirror. “To have the position you have means constant control. You need to have some kind of outlet for that. A defined time and place where you can drop that control.”

“By taking control?”

“By doing whatever the fuck you want to me.” Levi glanced at him. “Every punch Erwin wanted to land on Shadis or Nile or anyone else eventually ended up on me.”

“That’s – ” Horrible, he wanted to say.

Except Levi wasn’t just taking those hits because he felt it was his duty. Armin had seen the expression on his face. The relief.

“You let go too,” Armin said.

A quick look. “Yes. In a different way. We both get what we want.”

“It sounds very… efficient.”

“I suppose it is.”

Armin eyed Levi. There was no judgement in that face, no condemnation.

“Do you – Did he ever – wasn’t he afraid of taking it too far?”

“Yes.”

Armin blinked.

“But I’ve got a pretty good handle of how far is too far, and I could always stop him if needed,” Levi added calmly. “That helped.”

“I… can see that, yes.”

Levi continued cleaning himself up. He seemed perfectly casual, like what had just happened was completely normal. Maybe in his mind, it was. But to Armin – every time he tried to seriously consider what he’d just done, his whole mind reeled away from it. He couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t put it in words. Only that for a moment, it had felt so right.

He bit his lip, watched Levi. He enjoyed it, he’d said. Giving up control. Letting go. Armin tried to imagine it, someone else keeping you down like that, taking away your choices, your responsibilities…

“Did it… Did it ever go the other way too?” Armin asked, a strange shiver of excitement running through him. “Did he ever…”

“Yes.” Levi gave him a quick look. “But we’re not doing that.”

“Oh.” Armin tried to fight his disappointment. “I just thought it would be nice, you know. Just handing the reins to someone else for a while.”

“Only if you completely trust the person you’re giving the reins to.”

“I trust you.”

Levi moved quick as a snake, two steps and his hand was around Armin’s throat. “Do you?” Levi asked, eyebrows up.

Armin gasped. Levi let go.

“Yes,” Armin said. “But I…”

“You’re scared of me.” Levi went back to the bowl. “And that’s why this wouldn’t work. If it’s something you want, talk to Mikasa about it.”

“MIkasa?” Armin asked in surprise.

“I doubt Eren could manage. But Mikasa is a born caretaker, and not afraid to get dirty. She’d do. Not sure about any of the others, but you know them better than I do.” Levi unbuckled his harness, then took off his shirt. He looked at the bloodstains on the pale linen and clucked his tongue. “Ruined.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not exactly the first shirt I’ve had to discard because of my blood on it.”

Armin shook his head. “You sound so casual about it. As if this is something everyone does, as if – as if this is normal.”

Levi huffed. “This is the Survey Corps. Normal got left behind the moment you took your oath.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been normal, though,” Armin said, with a shy smile.

“See? You fit right in here.” Levi slapped the shirt over his shoulder. “Go outside, walk around, take in the night air and let the adrenaline fade. You’ll sleep like a child tonight.”

“Thanks,” Armin said hurriedly as Levi opened the door.

“Anytime,” Levi said, and then he was gone.

***

Armin came back to the barracks with an odd lightness in his step.

Like Levi had said, the cold night air had come as a blessing. He’d walked around until the moon had come up, mind feeling strangely empty. Only now was he starting to feel the exhaustion again.

He went down the hallway with a slight smile. Too much had happened in too little time and he would need a while before he could all process it properly, but right now –

Right now, even with all the lingering horror and embarrassment and confusion of it, there was a part of him that felt elated.

He ducked inside the room he shared with Mikasa and Eren. Eren still wasn’t in, but Mikasa was. She looked up in surprise as he came in.

“Where have you been?”

“Captain Levi,” Armin said. “We’ve been, uh, talking.”

“Have you,” she said darkly.

“He’s the second in command of the Legion, Mikasa. I need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Why are your knuckles bruised?” Mikasa asked, dangerously quiet.

Armin quickly hid his hand underneath his jacket. “I, uh, it’s nothing.”

Mikasa looked up from underneath her hair. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. No, he really didn’t.”

“So you did?”

“Yes. Mikasa, it’s complicated.”

“Is it.” Her hand balled into a fist. “He already hurt Eren. I won’t let him near you.”

“Mikasa.” He knelt down in front of her and put his hand on her arm. Her muscles were tense, tight – ready to fight. “I promise I’m okay. He’s helping me.”

“By letting you beat him?”

“Yes, actually.”

Mikasa frowned, eyes skipping over his face. “Really?”

“It’s complicated,” he said again.

Mikasa looked down, mulling this over. Armin waited. If he’d been Eren, he’d have no doubt that Mikasa would have immediately strode off to Levi’s room, dragged him out and challenged him to a fight to the death.

But he wasn’t Eren, and Mikasa knew that.

“All right,” she said, eventually. “But if it ever goes too far, Armin, I need to know.” She peeked at him from behind her dark, straight hair, frowning and concerned, and Armin abruptly remembered Levi’s words.

She’s a born caretaker, and not afraid to get dirty.

He took her hand and smiled at her. “I will. I promise.”

***

Before the week was out, Armin was outside of the walls again.

It felt odd, realising that some people never got to experience this. Of course, he still hadn’t lost the thrill, the elation as they rode through the thick gates and out into the wilds beyond, and he doubted this kind of thing could ever become routine, but… He had sort of grown used to it.

This time it was less battles to fight and more experiments to guard, but they still had to be on constant alert. And for some reason, everyone relied on Armin to tell them where to lie in wait, where to put up guard posts. Even Hange was starting to defer to him, asking his opinion on some of their experiments and giving in with minimal protest when Armin urged them to finish up so they could get inside again.

It was strange. And scary, not in the least because he could feel Levi watching him, constantly, as if he was waiting for Armin to fuck up.

He didn’t want this. He’d never wanted this. He knew some people craved power and control and ways to influence people but he never had, he just wanted to help.

But right now, that meant giving orders.

He looked up. Levi was sitting with his back against one of the sheds, eyes – once again – on Armin.

Any feeling of – of competence, of confidence Armin had had after Levi had left his room had long since faded. All that was left was a sense of horror, mortification. And determination that he would never do that again. No matter how it had made him feel at the time – and it was hard to imagine now, that simply hitting someone had made him feel so – so strong, for once.

But no. He wouldn’t, not again.

And Levi could stare all he want.

“Come on,” Armin yelled. “Let’s break up camp and head back.”

Levi gave him a small nod of approval.

Armin pretended he hadn't seen it.

***

“I don’t think I can do this again,” Armin said the next time he was in Levi’s room.

He hadn’t been intending to go. It was pure coincidence he’d passed Levi’s door – it was, it was. And when Levi had opened the door and called him inside he couldn’t just ignore him, could he?

So here he was. Again.

“Why?” Levi asked. “Think I can’t take this?”

Armin shifted uncomfortably. “It’s – it’s not about that.”

“Isn’t it?” Levi stood in front of him, arms crossed. He was only wearing his shirt, harness discarded on a chair behind him. “Are you afraid of hurting me?”

“I, uh, yes?”

Levi huffed. “You? You think you can do to me what even a whole horde of Titans can’t?”

“No!” Armin shifted onto his other foot, trying to get his thoughts in order. But at the same time, the words had stirred something else.

He had tried not to think about this. To just focus on what he had to do. To let go of the thoughts and fantasies that had started to plague his dreams, because – because what had happened was obviously a one off, and a sick and twisted one at that. He should’ve never let Levi convince him into this. He shouldn’t have come inside, should’ve walked straight ahead.

But now here he was, watching the challenging glint in Levi’s eyes and wanting nothing more than to wipe away that smugness with his fist.

Armin shook his head. Anger was all nice and good but all he had to do was to remind himself who he really was, who Levi really was, and the ridiculousness of this whole thing wiped all traces of desire away.

“What are you waiting for?” Levi lifted his chin, that aura of challenge getting even stronger. “Afraid?”

“No.” Armin frowned, realisation dawning. “Are you trying to make me angry?”

Amusement crossed Levi’s face. “Would that work?”

“No.” Armin rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t get violent when I get angry. Uh, sorry.”

“So when do you get violent?” Levi asked.

Never, he almost said, but then he remembered last time. He shrugged, awkwardly. “Don’t know.”

Levi gave him a thoughtful look. Armin felt like squirming under that scrutiny. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d overstepped, that he was somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. Playing with the big boys.

“Hit me,” Levi said, calmly.

“I, uh, I don’t,” Armin stammered, panicked. “I don’t think I – ”

“Hit me.”

No arguing with that level of determination. Armin took a deep breath, then raised his fist and hit Levi across the face.

It was weak. Even he could see that.

Levi touched his cheek, clucked his tongue. “Try again.”

“I don’t – ”

“Armin. Try again.”

Armin looked away, squeezed his eyes shut. He felt miserable, but he couldn’t find a way out. He didn’t have any choice. He slowly raised his hand. “Can’t I – ”

“Do it.”

He tried, he honestly tried, but something inside him just balked and instead of actually landing a punch it was more like a weak slap. Armin flushed.

“Well,” Levi said dryly. “This isn’t working.”

“Sorry. I’m not sure why…” Armin briefly closed his eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault, it’s just who you are.” Levi touched his cheek, made an irritated sound, and went to the nightstand.

“Who I am?” Armin asked nervously.

“Or what you were forced to become, maybe.” Levi wiped his cheek with a cloth, then leaned back against the wardrobe, arms crossed. “Everyone’s got a reserve of aggression. Instincts. Some people keep it bottled up better than others. With Eren, it’s always bubbling just beneath the surface. Mikasa’s got a perfect control on when she lets it out and can lock it back down in an instant. You… For some reason, you’ve got it locked up somewhere deep. What are you afraid of?”

“I – I don’t think I am afraid. It just never worked.” Armin twitched, suddenly feeling very stupid. “When I was – when I was a child, there were bigger boys, sometimes. I could try and fight back but it only got me hurt more.”

“So what did you do? Did you hide? Pacify them?”

“I… No.”

Levi tilted his head. Still not smiling, but he looked oddly triumphant. “You didn’t back down?”

“No. I just – cried, really. Or I kept talking.”

“Took the beating.”

“Until Mikasa and Eren showed up to help me.”

“That explains a lot.” Levi pushed off the wardrobe. “You’re used to having someone else around to take care of the physical violence for you.”

“Yes. The same way I do now. With the rest of the Corps, and with – with you.”

“It won’t work, though. Not in the long term.”

“No?” Armin asked nervously.

Levi gave him a hooded look. “The fact that you’ve got it locked up doesn’t mean it’s not there. And with the stress you’re going to go through, the weight of that, it’s going to be knocked free sooner or later. So you might as well get used to it here, in a safe environment.”

“Some people just aren’t violent, you know.”

Levi’s lip curled, mocking.

Armin looked away. “Look, I – I genuinely see your point, I do. It makes sense. But I just can’t – I can’t.”

“Try again,” Levi said, inevitable as death.

Armin rocked back on his heels, thinking. He had it in him. Somewhere. He’d managed it last time. All he needed to do was…

Was to let go.

He raised his hand and backhanded Levi across the face. This time it was pretty hard, enough to make Levi’s head snap around.

Levi touched his mouth. “Good. Better. Do it again.”

The next punch Armin aimed at Levi’s midsection. As Levi doubled over, some lesson from long ago reared its head and Armin raised his leg and grabbed Levi’s hair and rammed Levi’s face into his knee.

Levi staggered backwards, gasping. And something about that, something –

“Power,” Levi gasped.

Power. The same feeling he’d had the first time he’d given orders and saw them carried out.

Levi wiped the back off his hand across his mouth, an uncharacteristically crass gesture. “The ability to make people do what you want. To make ‘em obey.”

“You’re not – not obeying,” Armin stammered, reeling with feelings he couldn’t identify. “You’re just not fighting back. That’s not obedience.”

“Then make me,” Levi said, with the smallest of grins.

Armin jumped him.

Two punches and Levi stumbled, hitting the bed. Armin saw his chance and pushed, and Levi landed on his back on the mattress. Armin straddled his hips. Another backhand, another, blood spraying the pristinely white covers, and Armin raised his hand and –

- stopped.

He was breathing hard, heart hammering.

Power. Control. He could feel it, this huge strange wave of feeling, and it would be so easy to ride on that.

But he wasn’t going to let it take over.

He took a deep breath. Levi was watching him again, and for the first time that impression Armin kept getting, that Levi was looking down at him, patronising, completely disappeared.

Another deep breath. Armin felt after the anger, the will to hurt, to subdue. It was still there, and it was a little scary, and it would be safer to just back out of this but –

He carefully reached down and took Levi’s throat between his hands.

Levi’s eyes widened.

Armin tightened his fingers and squeezed. Levi tried to swallow, gasped. For a moment he just lay there, doing nothing, but then his mouth opened, trying to take in air, and –

The moment Levi started to struggle Armin let go. He dropped his hands onto the mattress on both sides of Levi’s head and squeezed his eyes shut.

The same horror and shame was starting to take over like it had last time. It shouldn’t, Levi had asked for this, it was important, he’d stopped in time and he was in control and –

- and he’d damn well strangled a man.

Warm fingers closed around his forearms. “Hey.”

Armin opened his eyes. He was trembling, he suddenly noticed. And Levi’s throat was covered with ugly red marks…

Armin rolled off him, awash with disgust at himself. He shivered.

Levi got up. He crossed the room to the wardrobe and took a bowl of water, a piece of clean cloth. Then he padded back and got back on the bed, legs crossed. He pulled his shirt off with a grunt, then shot Armin a quick look. “Boots off.”

“I’m – what?”

“Boots off if you want your feet on the bed.”

“Oh.”

Levi dipped a corner of the cloth into the water and wiped it across his face.

Armin pulled the buckles on his boots loose. It felt like a dream. Absurd, odd. Unreal.

He got out of his boots, then put his feet on the bed, hugging his legs. Levi was still cleaning himself up, wiping away blood and dabbing ointment on a few cuts.

“I’m – ”

“Don’t apologise.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Armin hugged his legs a little tighter. “I think. I don’t know. It’s scary.”

“You did good,” Levi said, and at the praise something warm and glowing flowered in Armin’s insides.

“Thanks. Um…” He cocked his head, watching Levi struggle with a bandage. “Do you – do you want me to help?”

A strange expression briefly crossed Levi’s face, before he shook his head. “Not unless I can’t do it myself.”

“Okay.”

Levi carefully felt his ribcage. “So. Did you get it?”

“What you said about – about making people bend to your will. That did.”

Levi nodded. “That’s part of it, yes. The most important part. There are other things too, but you’ll discover those soon enough.”

Armin bit his lip. “It still scares me, though.”

“That’s good. It should. If it doesn’t, you risk not knowing when you cross the line.” Levi raised his eyebrow. “If it didn’t scare you, I would have had you locked up.”

Armin managed a weak smile. He relaxed his hold on his knees a little, watched as Levi took care of his wounds, letting his thoughts wander.

The disgust, the horror, it was still there somewhere in his mind. But it was mostly buried now. Levi’s calm acceptance was helping lots with that. And instead of the horror, there was…

Elation, maybe? Like the first time, that strange light feeling like he was walking on clouds, like he could take on anything. That would fade, probably, just like the first time too, but beneath that, there was something else now. This strange, calm, steady sense of confdence. Power. No matter what happened after this, that moment – when Levi was beneath him, looking up at him, not moving and completely at Armin’s mercy – would never disappear.

Armin felt a small smile creep over his face. This was what Levi had wanted to show him. This was why that invitation had come. And now he understood.

Suddenly, his smile disappeared. “So, uh…” he started carefully. “Should I – am I done now? Now I get it? Should we – should we stop?”

“Do you want it to stop?” Levi asked.

Armin forced himself to contain his immediate instinctual no and really consider the question. Sure, it made him feel good about himself, and Levi seemed to enjoy it too, but there were disadvantages. It did scare him, which was good, apparently, but if they kept doing it he might get used to it. Lose that fear. That was a risk. And – despite what Levi said – there was also always a risk that at one point, he’d end up incapacitating Levi, seriously enough that he wouldn’t be able to fight. There was gossip to consider too, people were inevitably going to notice Levi’s bruised face and Armin’s visits to his room, and that would influence the way they would see the both of them. On the whole, there were a lot of messy, potentially serious consequences to all this.

Those were the disadvantages. But the positives…

Armin met Levi’s eyes. “No,” he said, steadily. “I don’t want it to stop.”

“Good. “ Levi gave him a grimly amused look. “Because the only reason this ever stops is when you stop wanting it.”

***

Erwin Smith had been the glue that kept the Legion together.

With each passing day, that became more obvious to Armin. The void that Erwin had left was gaping, and no one was capable of satisfactorily filling it. Levi was something of a mascot to the Legion, sure, but he couldn’t lead them. He was too distant, too offputting, too irritable, too antisocial, too damn weird to be really inspiring. Hange was similar in that way: sure, they could command the Legion in a pinch, but in the end Hange’s recklessness and weird obsessions made them unfit to be a Commander. What the Legion really needed was someone calm, someone experienced, someone who could kindle loyalty and belief in men’s hearts, who could make the men believe that what they were doing was not only necessary but heroic. Someone brave, impressive, worthy of devotion.

Instead, they got Armin.

Armin rubbed his forehead. It was starting to take its toll, this lack of leadership. Discontent was spreading. Cases of insubordination and desertion, which used to be non-existent, were on the rise. And the fights… Even the 104^th, after all they’d gone through together, wasn’t exempt from the infighting.

“They’re going to be at it again,” Mikasa said softly from next to him.

“Hm?” He looked up. Eren was glaring at Jean, and Jean was talking just slightly too loudly to Sasha and Connie. “Oh. Maybe they – ”

“I’ve had enough of this!” Eren yelled suddenly.

Mikasa closed her eyes.

“Yeah?” Jean said, turning half in his chair. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“You just sit there – complaining, critiquing everything, but I don’t hear you offer better solutions!”

“I thought it wasn’t our place to decide policies,” Jean said sarcastically.

Eren snorted. “That’s all you ever do, Jean. Complain. That’s all you’re good for, sitting inside and – ”

“Don’t!” Jean jumped up and whirled on Eren. “Don’t you dare fucking say that! I go out just the same like all of you – ”

“I don’t see you on the front lines – ”

“Because I’m not ordered to go there, what, you want me to disobey orders now? Like you keep doing?”

“ – hiding everywhere and then complain afterwards – ”

“ – go running off on your own and – ”

“Stop that!”

A ringing silence fell. Armin found, somewhat to his surprise, that he was the one that had spoken.

Jean and Eren were staring at him. Everyone else was staring too. Armin had to fight against his initial instinct, to stammer and blush and make himself smaller and make them stop looking but –

“This isn’t helping anyone,” Armin said, firmly. “We’re in a frustrating situation, we’re all feeling it. But if the rest of us manage without tearing someone else to pieces, I’m pretty sure you two can too. If you want to vent your frustrations, go outside. Train. Hack into a tree. But not into each other.”

They stared at him.

Then Jean sat back down, shoulders hunched and head bent. Eren opened his mouth, closed it again, and slouched over to them, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Well done,” Mikasa said from the corner of her mouth.

Eren sat down across them. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just couldn’t hear him criticise the leadership like that.”

“Armin doesn’t need you to defend him, Eren,” Mikasa pointed out.

Armin blinked. It was extremely odd, hearing his name and leadership connected like that.

“Old habits.” Eren ran his hands over his face. “Sorry. I just – next time I’ll wait for you to tell me to punch him in the face.”

“I don’t think punching Jean in the face is going to solve anything, Eren,” Armin said seriously. “He’s just frustrated, and if he’s got doubts I’d prefer him to talk in the open about it, rather than criticise me behind my back.”

“See?” Mikasa said. “Armin can handle himself. Although actually, I think I still prefer Levi’s way of breaking up fights.”

“Violence isn’t the answer to everything, Mikasa,” Armin said.

“It is when it comes to those two.” She sipped her tea. “Little idiots.”

“Hey!”

 “We only came back from outside yesterday, give everyone some time to come down first.” Armin ran his hand over his face. “And speaking of: I’m going up. Try not to fight anyone else,” he added, with a smile at Eren.

“Don’t worry,” Mikasa said. “He won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eren said indignantly.

Armin left them to their bickering, smiling to himself.

The extreme exhaustion of yesterday had mostly passed by now, and this time without any help. It had been difficult, though. The battle had been important enough that he’d had to send in all of his best fighters. Neither Mikasa or Eren or Levi had been close to him for longer than a few seconds; the moment they had reported back to him, he’d sent them away again. He couldn’t afford to keep any of them near him, they were just too important.

But it did mean that by the end of the day, he’d felt more alone than ever.

He went up the stairs, fingers trailing over the rough rock of the wall. The exhaustion may have passed, but the feeling of being alone was still lingering. And even apart from that…

People had died, again.

He hesitated on the landing. His room was on the left. He could just go there, hope sleep would somehow come soon, and bring him no nightmares. Or…

Or he could turn right, to Levi’s room at the end of the corridor.

He bit his lip.

Then he turned resolutely right.

The offer had been clear enough, last time. Whenever he needed it, he could go to Levi. He still couldn’t help the nervous tremble in his hands, the way his stomach clenched, but this – this felt right. Good. And not just that, it felt wise, too. Like he was taking care of himself.

In the weirdest way possible.

Armin stopped in front of Levi’s door. He tried to knock, but as soon as his hand touched the wood the door opened. Armin stepped inside, cautiously.

Levi wasn’t in.

Armin hesitated. The right thing to do was just to leave, maybe come back later when Levi was back. But right now the thought of going to his own room was weirdly daunting. And he doubted he could muster the energy later to come back.

So he went in and sat down on the bed, head bent.

As usual, his mind tried to take the mission’s events and pull them apart. He tried to stop it. He was still far too tired to deduce anything meaningful right now.

But his mind wouldn’t obey. Over and over again it replayed the same images. The Titans peeking above the trees in the distance. The horses carrying wounded and dying men back to the HQ. Mikasa and Eren, blood-spattered and furious, riding off into another battle.

Armin pressed his hands into his eye sockets. “Stop,” he whispered. “Please, just – stop.”

Footsteps, briefly halting, then starting up again. The door opening and closing. The turn of a key. More footsteps. And a hand on his shoulder. “Armin?”

“I need you.”

The candour of his own words shocked him. He didn’t say those kind of things, he barely even thought them, but now –

You need to push past the embarrassment and the fear of fucking up – well, apparently that wasn’t a problem as long as he was tired enough.

Armin raised his head. Levi stood looking down at him for a moment or two. Then he nodded and started unbuckling his harness. Armin watched in silence. Only when Levi took off his jacket and shirt as well, he thought to ask, “What are you doing?”

“We’ve already ruined two of my shirts, I’d prefer to keep the rest of them in decent condition.” He folded it neatly, then turned to Armin.

He was covered in bruises and cuts. That happened if you fought all day, and Levi above everyone else because of the way he fought, the intensity.

Still, it was a bit…

“Can we do something else tonight?” Armin asked.

Levi raised his eyebrows. “Something else?”

“Yes.” Armin licked his lips. Part of him wanted to ask for permission, or help, check if what he was doing was okay. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? That in here, he didn’t need to bother with that. “Lie down on the bed,” Armin said, trying to keep the quiver from his voice.

Levi didn’t show any surprise. He just came to the bed and lay down, loose-limbed and watchful.

“Grab hold of the headboard.”

He did. Armin fought down the nerves and sat up, swung his leg over, straddling Levi like he had last time.

He licked his lips again, then put his hands flat on Levi’s chest. Levi’s skin was hot, almost feverish. Armin shifted his hand and Levi hissed as his fingers brushed against a bruise.

There. That was what he wanted.

Armin carefully traced his fingers down until he found a big, ugly bruise across Levi’s ribcage. Then he placed his hand flat and pushed down.

Levi jolted and made a small noise. “Shh,” Armin said absently, his fingers finding a new path. There was a large abrasion across Levi’s side, where he must have scraped past the ground, or against a tree. Armin dug in his nails and dragged them down. This time Levi stayed quiet, but Armin could see the sudden tenseness in his stomach muscles. He glanced up – Levi’s hands were tight around the headboard.

Good.

Armin reached up and folded his hand over Levi’s throat. He could feel Levi’s heartbeat against his fingertips, feel the movement of his adam’s apple as he swallowed.

He felt for Levi’s ribs with his free hand. There was another ugly bruise just at the bend at the side – bruised ribs, maybe even cracked. He ran his thumb over the curve in the bone, then pressed down. Levi made another sound, quickly cut-off.

Armin’s breathing had gone slow. He was vaguely aware of something happening to him, but he wasn’t paying it much attention. He felt strangely focused, narrowed, as if all he could see and feel and hear was just Levi, nothing else.

The lines of Levi’s harness had scraped their way into his skin, the way that happened when you flew too long, too fast. Armin lazily followed the angry red lines from Levi’s hip to his shoulder, one hand still around Levi’s throat. Levi’s breath was coming in short sharp bursts now.

Armin reached Levi’s shoulder. It felt a little swollen. Hadn’t he come in at one point with a dislocated shoulder? Yeah, and he’d ordered another man to snap it back into place. It must still hurt.

Armin followed the shape of the joint beneath the thin skin until he found a good point.

Then he forced his fingers beneath the bone and pressed up, into the traumatised muscle and joints.

 Levi jolted again. His grip had gone white-knuckled, and his heart was racing. Armin briefly frowned at him, then went back to Levi’s chest. An ugly cut just beneath his pectoral muscle. Armin almost tenderly scratched his nail over it. He could feel Levi’s chest expand with each breath between his knees, and –

- and he could feel something else too.

Armin froze. Suddenly that focus and that calm he’d felt before evaporated. He tried to get it back, concentrate on Levi’s wounds again, but he just – couldn’t. Not with that feeling against his thigh of Levi’s –

He rolled off, scooting up to the headboard, only barely resisting the urge to flee.

Levi slowly dropped his hands to the mattress again. “Well,” he said, voice a little hoarse, a little breathless. “You’ve got a flair for this, that’s for sure.”

Armin made a tiny noise, unable to meet Levi’s eyes.

Levi turned his head and frowned at him. “Something wrong? Why the fuck did you stop?”

“You, uh, you, you got…” Despite himself, Armin’s eyes darted to Levi’s crotch. He quickly looked away again, blushing furiously.

“Oh. That. Yeah, that happens sometimes.” Levi huffed. “What, never been near an erection before?”

“I, uh, haven’t, actually.”

“Really?” Levi scooted up, back leaning against the headboard. “Huh. Then the barracks must have changed. From what I know, it’s a hotbed of sexual activity.”

“It might very well be,” Armin said stiffly. “But not for me.”

“Why not?”

“I just – just don’t have any interest in it, that’s all. And I don’t think anyone would be interested in me either.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Levi closed his eyes. He looked supremely relaxed. “I’m sure Eren or Mikasa would jump on the opportunity. Both, even. Or Jean.”

“Jean?” Armin spluttered, disbelievingly.

“I bet he wouldn’t mind being ordered around either.” Levi absently rubbed his neck. “How are you doing apart from the sex? With this, I mean.”

“I…” He chewed his lip. “I think it went fine.”

“Just fine?”

“No.” Armin looked away. “It felt – good. Like you said, distracting. And more than that. I really felt like I – like I knew what I was doing.” He glanced up shyly at Levi. “I didn’t go too far?”

Levi snorted. “No. As you may have noticed, I definitely approved.”

Armin’s blush returned full force.

“Were you done?” Levi asked. “Or did you just freak out?”

“I freaked out. I don’t think I was, uh, done yet.”

“Well, then.” Levi slid back down, arms up again. Armin looked at him, and something – woke.

It wasn’t sexual, that he was pretty certain about. But he looked down at Levi and remembered the noises he’d made and the tension in his body all because of what Armin did, and it was – he wanted that.

“What about…” He looked at Levi’s crotch again. The pants didn’t do much in terms of hiding it.

“Ignore it.”

“I… okay.” He got his leg back over Levi’s hips, struggling with the lingering nervousness. He could still feel Levi’s hard-on pressing against the inside of his thigh.

He didn’t have to do anything about it. In fact –

In fact, in a weird way, this felt a bit like having Levi twitch in pain. Levi wanted something. Armin wasn’t going to give it to him. In a way, that wasn’t too different from the other things he was doing to Levi.

“Okay,” he said, and just like that he could feel the calm returning. He put his hands back on Levi’s chest. “Okay.”

Levi curled his fingers, preparing. Armin watched him for a moment or two.

Then he balled his hand into a fist and – lightly – punched against Levi’s bruised ribs.

***

Life went on.

The unrest in the Legion stayed, but at least it didn’t escalate. Jean and Eren continued to be at each others’ throats every few days, but Mikasa tended to keep them from doing serious damage. And Armin…

Someone had called him Commander yesterday. It had slipped out unnoticed and the woman hadn’t seemed to be aware of it, but Armin had. He’d noticed the rest of the Legion’s reactions too. Where at first they’d stared at him after each order, needing Levi’s or Hange’s urging to jump into action, now they obeyed with only a little hesitation at most.

It was gratifying, but it was worrying too. They trusted him to make the right decisions, but what if he messed it up? If they obeyed without question, all responsibility was his. If he made a wrong decision –

He forced himself to stop. That line of thinking never got him anywhere useful. What he needed now was to get his grip back, work off his doubts and frustrations.

That was what he was here for.

“Done thinking?”

Armin startled. “Oh, sorry.”

He’d walked into Levi’s room fully intending on starting on the spot, but Levi had still been cleaning up. So Armin had sat down and waited, thoughts drifting to the point where he hadn’t even noticed Levi finishing. Who knew how long Levi had been standing there, waiting patiently?

“What was the problem anyway?” Levi asked.

“Just… Wondering how this works, actually.”

Levi raised his eyebrows.

“Why this helps,” Armin explained. “I don’t fully understand it. It’s – It’s like everything – everything becomes so much clearer. Clarity, that’s… ”

Levi didn’t respond. He seemed to be just calmly listening, taking it all in without judgement the way he always did.

Armin bit his lip. He wasn’t explaining this well, but he just couldn’t find the right words. “It’s – it’s like – it’s like everything makes sense,” he finished weakly.

Levi still didn’t say anything.

“What’s it like for you?” Armin dared to ask.

“Not like that. Clarity isn’t the word I’d use.” Levi frowned a little. “It’s… Pure. Freeing.”

“A relief?”

Levi looked up sharply.

Over the last few weeks, Armin had got the impression that Levi was slowly adjusting his opinion on Armin. At the start, even though Levi was still being pretty respectful by his standards, Armin could never shake the feeling that Levi was trying to make the best of a bad situation, that he was resigning himself to this in some way. That Levi saw Armin as yet another recruit to be trained up.

Now… He wouldn’t go as far as saying that Levi really respected him, but something had changed. A few times Levi had looked pleasantly surprised by choices or decisions Armin had made. And not just – just in terms of what they did. It went further than that.

And judging by Levi’s expression, Armin had just gone up another notch in his esteem.

“Something like it,” Levi said, guardedly.

“And what did Erwin feel?”

The look in Levi’s eyes made it pretty clear that despite everything they’d done, there were still very much lines Armin wasn’t allowed the cross.

“Sorry,” Armin said, looking away.

“So do you want to do something or do you just want to sit here talking all day?”

“Oh, sorry, yes.” Armin pushed his hair back from his face. “Actually, I had a question.”

“Yes?”

“I’m, uh, not strong enough to do much damage, am I? So, I was wondering, is there – is there a way around that?”

“Yes.” Levi gave him a grimly amused look. “And you’re probably creative enough to have found one already, so let’s hear it.”

Armin bit his lip, then glanced at the fire roaring in the fireplace. Levi followed his gaze, and actually seemed to freeze up for a second.

It wasn’t fear, Levi didn’t do fear, Armin knew that. He still couldn’t help the little shiver of satisfaction and pride that he’d at least had given Levi a reason to pause.

“You’re going to have to be careful.” Levi looked back at Armin. “You can do a lot of damage and we can’t afford having me be out of service.”

“I know,” Armin said seriously. “Which is why I’m asking.”

“Your instincts are good.” Levi’s eyes lingered on the fire for a few moments. 

“I’d need to be careful not to choose a spot where your harness goes,” Armin said, trying to sound calm and composed instead of – of sick with sudden nerves. “And, and have water handy for afterwards. And I’m not exactly sure – I mean, I’ve had burns before but this would be – ”

“Where does the need come from?” Levi asked suddenly.

Armin blinked, feeling caught out. “Uh. I don’t know. Just a feeling.”

Levi raised his eyebrows, calling bullshit.

Armin wriggled in his chair. “It’s just – I’m always aware that you’re the stronger one. That you’re just, uh, indulging me.”

“So you feel the need to one-up me?”

“I think.” Armin frowned. “Not just that, though. I know your reactions aren’t faked, I know it’s not – it’s not just pretending. I just feel – feel like I’ve eased in now and now I want to see if I can take it further.”

“How much further?”

“I’m not going to let this escalate,” Armin said firmly.

“Good,” Levi said.

Armin tilted his head. “That’s it? You don’t want to know what my – my endpoint is?”

“No.”

“Why not? Aren’t you – well, not worried, obviously, but…”

Levi shrugged. “I can take pretty much anything.”

Armin stayed silent.

Levi frowned. “You’re being even more thoughtful than usual today,” he said. “And for you, that’s saying something.”

“Sorry." Armin pushed his hair back from his face. "It’s just – It just occurred to me that I never asked you what you want. What – what you enjoy, what you like, I mean. And what you don’t.”

Levi looked thoroughly puzzled. “Why would you care about that?”

“Like you said,” Armin said, softly. “It’s not just about me.”

Levi didn’t respond, and Armin was suddenly struck by how little he actually knew the man. Which was odd, considering what they’d been doing together, but… Levi was an extremely private, closed-off person. Armin had hardly ever seen him display any kind of emotion, with the exception of the occasional outburst of anger, usually directed at people endangering others. Beyond that –

But surely he must feel something? Or was he so numbed, after all he'd been through, that he simply didn’t feel anything at all? Was that blank expression a true reflection of what went on underneath?

Because if it wasn’t, if it was just a mask, then…

Then he had the right to keep that on, if he wanted to. Armin shook his head. “Sorry. If you don’t want to share you don’t have to, obviously. This just feels like something I should’ve asked much much earlier.” He bit his lip, suddenly feeling a little guilty. He was right, he should have asked earlier. But Levi had been so confident and insistent on Armin’s comfort that Armin had never even thought to consider Levi had feelings and preferences too.

Levi was still staring at him. Even though his face was still unreadable as always, Armin also thought he detected some surprise. “What I like,” he repeated, slowly, as if the possibility that someone would care about that hadn’t even occurred to him before.

“And what you don’t, mostly,” Armin added. “So I can avoid that.”

Levi stayed silent for a moment or two. Then he shook his head. “It depends. There’s not much I can’t get enjoyment from, if it’s the right person, the right way. You get it right, most of the time.”

“And if you ever don’t enjoy something, you’ll tell me?” Armin insisted.

Levi shrugged. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Armin chewed his lip. “I think I get what you mean, actually, how it depends? I get moods too. Like now. It’s different, it’s…”

“Sometimes you feel like beating the shit out of me and sometimes you just want to take my skin off?”

“That’s, uh…” Armin blinked. “That’s exaggerating it a little bit. But in essence, yes.”

“Fair enough.” Levi pulled his shirt up. “Avoiding the harness should be easy enough, the straps got bruised in again. Where do you want me?”

“Against the wall.”

Levi went off. Armin went over to the fire and crouched down, trying to control his hammering heartbeat. Punching and hitting were all fine, he knew about that. But this – this was something else.

Something he’d suggested. Something Levi had agreed to.

He took a deep breath. Last time he’d spent a lot of time surreptitiously eyeing Levi’s razor, lying innocuously on his dressing table, but he’d chickened out. And this, this was far more serious. How the hell had he managed to gather the courage to ask this?

Armin glanced over his shoulder. Levi was leaning against the wall, bare-chested and his arms relaxed by his side, but his eyes were still fixed on the fire and there was something tight around his jaw…

There. That was why he wanted this.

Armin turned back to the fire and put in the poker. Like before, that strange sense of peace and purpose was starting to come over him.

“Close the curtains,” he said absently, eyes on the heating metal. For a few moments nothing happened. Then slow footsteps crossed the room. The curtains closed, leaving the room in flickering nervous shadows. Armin stoked the fire. Levi went back to his place.

Aggression, Levi had called it. It definitely had been the first time. And the few other times, when he’d been more careful, more deliberate, that had been aggression too. This, though, felt like something else. Far too slow-burning and calculated to qualify.

Sweat beaded Armin’s forehead. He wiped it away, annoyed.

The poker was starting to glow. Armin took the handle. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Levi shift, which meant something – Levi could be still as a statue for hours on end, if the situation required it. If he moved now, it was because he was feeling something.

An almost savage rush of satisfaction ran through Armin. He had to take a few deep breaths before he felt in control again, before the need to just cross the room and, in Levi’s words, beat the shit out of him abated. But it did, and he regained his focus. He straightened up, poker in hand, and turned to Levi.

Levi’s eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the redhot metal.

Armin took a few steps closer, holding the poker just far away enough from his leg to feel the hot glow coming off it. He tilted his head, considered Levi. Levi’s eyes had gone up to Armin’s face.

It was funny, really. Usually having Levi look at him with that kind of intensity would make him feel nervous, like he should try to be taller or bigger or stronger somehow. But right now, it was more like…

Levi wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Levi.

“Drop your pants.”

Levi looked genuinely surprised for a moment. Another strange sense of triumph came over Armin. “We don’t – ”

“I know. Drop ‘em.”

Levi frowned, then obeyed. Armin felt like singing inside.

“You need to be quick about it,” Levi said as he undressed. “Anything too long and you risk branding m-”

“I know,” Armin said, almost lazily. Once again, Levi seemed a little thrown.

Armin took a step closer. Levi straightened up again. His legs were zig-zagged with the marked bruises of the harness.

Which still left a large stretch of his thigh.

“Is anyone going to burst in if you end up screaming?” Armin asked.

Levi’s eyes gleamed in challenge. “I won’t.”

“But if you do?”

“I doubt it. They’re used to some pretty weird fucking noises coming from this room.”

“Good.”

Armin took a final step. Some part of him was insanely grateful that Levi was so short, that he didn’t have to go through the indignity of craning his neck. But most of him –

Most of him wasn’t concerned with anything much aside from the heat of the poker and the tension in Levi’s body.

He raised the poker. Levi’s eyes flicked down, then came up again. Armin tilted his head, watching Levi carefully. He waited, calmly, one breath, two, three, until Levi blinked and twitched.

Only then did he press the poker against Levi’s thigh.

***

“You’re going to have a limp.”

Levi winced as he tightened the bandage around his leg. “Doesn’t matter. Not once I’m off the ground.”

“Are you sure?” Armin picked at his nails, watching Levi finish off the bandage.

“Yes.” He gave Armin a look. “You’re less of a pain when you’re riding the high, you know.”

“Well, uh, y’know. Like I said. Everything makes sense, then.” He chewed his lip. “Not sure if it does now. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?” Levi put his weight back on his leg, testing it.

“Because you’re our most important fighter and this is going to hinder you.”

“So did you fucking with my sprained shoulder, but that didn’t stop you then,” Levi pointed out, sensibly.

“Maybe it should have.”

Levi turned. “Look,” he said irritably, “if it really would have fucked me over I would have told you.”

“Yes, but – ”

“So you don’t trust my judgement?”

“Of course I do!” Armin said, shocked. “More than anyone’s. It’s just that – ”

“What, that I’m temporarily blind when it comes to you?” Levi sneered. “That I lose all common sense the second you step through that door?”

“No!”

“Then take my word for it and stop whining.” Levi turned his back on Armin and strode over to the windows, yanked the curtains open. The setting sun bathed the room in yellow-orange light.

“I’m – I’m sorry.”

“I count apologising as whining.”

Armin gave a weak laugh. He ran his hands over his face, breathed out heavily. “I don’t know why I’m so – you’re not the first person who got hurt because of a decision I made, are you?”

Levi turned abruptly. He gave Armin a sharp look, as if he were looking for something, then leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “That’s always going to happen. No decision is foolproof.”

“So one day I may end up seriously hurting someone I care about, right,” Armin said softly.

“Yes. That’s a possibility you need to accept.”

Armin nodded. “I know. I’ve been working on it. It’s just that, in here, it’s… different. More direct.”

“Yeah,” Levi said. “But in here, we’ve got safeguards.” He limped to the door and opened it. “Now go back to your room, I need some time alone.”

“Oh, okay, of course!” Armin hurriedly got up and rushed over to the door. “Sorry – I mean – ”

Levi shook his head. “Out. And, by the way, you don’t need alone time. Go find your friends.”

“I will, thanks.” He paused, hand on the doorway, looked at Levi. “I mean it,” he added, more softly. “Thanks.”

Levi closed the door in his face.

***

Eren sniffed when Armin came in. “Why do you smell like roast?”

Armin choked. “I, uh, no idea.”

“I thought meat had gotten too expensive to be on the menu?”

“It is.” Armin closed the door behind him, fighting his blush. “Must’ve come from town or something.”

“You were in town?”

“No, with Captain Levi. We were, uh, discussing strategy.”

“Again?”

Armin shrugged, awkwardly. “Takes a lot of work, leading the Legion.”

“Huh.” Eren tilted his head.

“What?”

“No, it’s just – leading the Legion.” Eren smiled. “You’ve been doing a lot better lately, you know.”

Armin returned the smile. “Am I?”

“Yeah. You don’t look like you’re about to shit yourself each time you have to give an order.” Eren gave him another smile to take the sting out of the words, then patted the mattress next to him in invitation.

Armin sat down next to Eren, hugging his knees. “Do you mind it?” he asked curiously. “Having to follow my orders?”

“No.” Eren frowned. “Why would I?”

“Why would I know better than you?”

“Because you’re smarter than me,” Eren said easily, not a trace of envy in his voice. “You’ve always been the planner of us three. You point in what direction to go and we go. It works, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, but that’s – that’s because you know me. What about the others?”

Eren shrugged. “They follow you because your orders are good.”

“So far. What if I mess up? Or, I don’t know, what if they decide they do know better after all?”

“I don’t know.” Eren looked outside, idly picking at his fingernails. “I doubt they will.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Eren glanced at him. “Because they trust you.”

Armin groaned and dropped his forehead to his knee. “I never asked for this,” he said. “I didn’t want – and now they all rely on me and look at me and if I can’t do it, then we’re – we’re all…” He trailed off.

He raised his head.

Eren was looking at him strangely.

Apparently today was his day to be stupidly unaware of other people’s experiences and feelings. Of course Eren knew what it was like to have everyone depend on him, of course he knew how hard it was to carry everyone’s expectations like that.

“How did you bear it?” Armin asked. “Having everyone’s hope pinned on you. Weren’t you afraid of making mistakes?”

Eren looked away, frowning. “Of course I was afraid. But I didn’t – I mean, being afraid doesn’t help anything, does it? All that I could do was try my best, so I did.”

“It’s that easy?”

Eren shrugged. “It didn’t feel easy. But it’s the only choice you can make, really.”

“Yeah.” Armin rested his chin on his knee. “I suppose so.”

Eren leaned his shoulder against Armin’s. “Things were a whole lot simpler when we were kids, huh?”

“Couldn’t wait to grow up and be adults.” Armin smiled, wryly. “I wished we could’ve stayed kids a bit longer, now.”

“Yeah.”

Armin leaned back, resting against Eren’s chest. “Try your best,” he mumbled. “But how do you know what’s your best? You can always push yourself further, more…”

Eren ruffled Armin’s hair. “You’re smart enough to figure that out,” he said, fondness in every word.

Armin closed his eyes and for a moment, just concentrated on that, on Eren being here and close and safe and relaxed.

He’d deal with the rest later.

***

“Armin!”

Armin looked up from his plans and tried to remember the Squad Leader’s name. “East flank squad?”

“Yessir. Where do we go?”

“Ahead,” Armin said curtly, looking back at his plans. “Go up to that house over there and wait until the other squad comes to join you.”

They rode off. Armin spread the map open in front of him and tried not to lose sight of the overall strategy. All those people asking him for specific instructions was getting –

“Armin!”

He looked up. “Squad Leader Hange?”

“I’ve got two squads waiting for orders here.”

“What? Who?” He looked over Hange’s shoulders at one of the other leaders. “Didn’t I – ” He glanced back at the map, mind working overtime. No, he hadn’t sent them away yet. Shit. “You men to the south, the edge of the forest. The others need to join the centre of the force as quick as they can!”

“Yessir!” They took off, Hange on their heels. Somewhere in the distance, a green and red flare shot up next to each other. Good, that meant Levi was in position.

Armin closed his eyes. What he wouldn’t give for just one moment of peace, to reevaluate, to check…

“Sir?” a new one asked, appearing out of nowhere. “Where do we –”

“East, and quickly,” Armin snapped at the Squad Leader. He pulled the map to him, checked the positions. “I think that’s – no, wait – ” He looked up.

To his horror, the squad had already taken off.

“No, west!” he yelled after them. “You have to go west, go – dammnit!” He grabbed a random horseback rider by the arm and pointed after them. “Go to them and tell them to divert their course, go west instead of east.”

The rider took off immediately.

He’d be too late. The squad was going at top speed, like he’d told them to.

Armin stared, chilled to his core. For a moment it looked like they were going to be fine. They were still in the clear and the messenger was gaining on them –

But then the Titans that had just been driven that way by another squad showed up from beyond the trees. The squad tried to swerve and avoid, but they’d already progressed too far and –

Armin’s stomach turned.

“Commander!”

“Yes?” he said absently, eyes still fixed on the fighting men, the dying men, all because of –

“Commander!”

He tore his eyes away. Hange was standing in front of him. “Orders?” they asked.

I don’t know, Armin almost said.

But he couldn’t. With a massive effort of will he wrenched his thoughts back to strategy, blocking out the sight and sound of the men dying.

“Take the newcomers to that house – ”

People were dying.

“- and then take the whole group and go after the remaining Titans.”

“Yessir!”

Hange took off.

And Armin closed his eyes and tried not to throw up.

***

When they got back, Armin immediately went up to his room. He was leaving behind Mikasa and Eren, who both needed rest, but he really couldn’t think about facing them right now.

He locked the door behind him, then sank down, back against the wood.

He’d failed. He’d made a mistake, and now people were dead. A moment of being absent-minded and people had paid for it.

He closed his eyes, seeing once again the panicked squad, the squad leader pulled from his saddle, the others trying to flee, to fight…

Only two had come back alive. And they wouldn’t be fighting again anytime soon.

A sob tore through Armin’s body. He pressed his forehead against his knees. No. He wasn’t going to cry. He didn’t deserve to cry.

He’d failed them.

A knock on the door. Armin cleared his throat. “Not now!”

“Open this door or I’ll fucking break it down.”

Levi.

Armin scrambled up and unlocked the door before he even fully realised what he was doing. By then it was too late; Levi had already strode into the room.

“What the hell is this?” Levi snapped.

Armin looked down. “I just – needed some time to think.”

“To beat yourself up, you mean?”

Armin peeked up. “You know what happened?”

“Yes, Hange told me,” Levi said impatiently.

“Well then.” Armin looked down again, picking at his fingernails. “I think I’d like to be alone, actually.”

“Tough.” Levi dropped into a chair, arms spread and one leg crossed over the other.

“Why – why are you here?” Armin asked.

Levi raised his eyebrows. “To help you blow off steam, of course.”

“I don’t think I can – not right now,” Armin said, looking away.

“Why not?”

“Because I…” Because he had taken charge and messed it up, that was why. He didn’t deserve being in charge. “Because right now I feel more like being beaten up than beating up someone else,” he muttered.

Levi planted his feet on the ground and leaned forward. “Is that what you want me to do? Punish you for making a mistake?”

Armin looked up in surprise. “I – ”

“Would that make things better?” Levi asked, cruelly. “If you hurt the way those two survivors are hurting right now, because of what you did?”

“I don't – ”

“Because you’re getting away easy right now, aren’t you? Men are dead and you can just carry on like nothing hap-”

“I’m not,” Armin yelled, tears in his eyes. “I’m not, I swear, I’m not, I…”

Levi leaned back again. “I assumed so, yes,” he said calmly.

So he’d just been goading Armin. Armin turned away and wiped his sleeve over his eyes, disgusted by himself.

“It's a shock,” Levi said. “The first time it really hits you, what this responsibility entails. But no amount of punishment is going to take away what you did.”

“I know that,” Armin said, eyes closed. “I just - I don't feel like I can go on. Not without - I don't know.” He opened his eyes and forced himself to look at Levi. “"Actually, I don't think I can go on at all.”

“Why not?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Armin shook his head. “If I can make a mistake like that, who says I won’t do it again? How can I feel okay with being in charge when I know people have died and will die because of my carelessness?”

“How? The way you did before.” Levi shrugged. “Or you don’t. You decide you’re not fit for this position and pull back.”

Armin twitched.

Levi gave him a look. “There we go. You realise, now? If you leave, who else is going to fill your position? Are they going to do any better than you? Make less mistakes?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Hange would – ”

“Hange works far better when there’s someone above them holding the reins,” Levi said impatiently. “They could run the show, but they lack your oversight. Your tactical brilliance. I've told you before, you’re the best choice for the job.”

Armin stared at Levi. Levi didn’t do compliments, he didn’t see the point of them, so him saying something like that was –

“ – even if you do accidentally kill people sometimes.”

Armin’s stomach turned. He shook his head, fighting against tears. “I can't. I can't stop thinking, I can't get this out of my head, I don't dare to move 'cause I - I - If I had paid more attention they would still be alive, and now it's my fault that they're dead and I don't ever want that to happen again.”

Levi didn't reply.

Armin lowered his eyes, sick with misery. He'd thought his own disgust at himself was already enough to drown out everything else, but Levi's obvious distaste at Armin's whining, the contempt he must feel was doing - 

“When I was younger, I joined up with two – two people. Friends.”

Armin looked up in surprise. “Sorry?”

“When I joined the Legion,” Levi said, looking down at the floor. “The three of us joined up together. We'd already gone through plenty of things together, the three of us, the Legion and its expeditions would just be another - another adventure.” He shrugged. “We were young, and naive.”

Armin’s breath caught. No one ever talked about Levi’s past. Ever. The fact that he chose to share this with Armin, now of all times…

“Anyway,” Levi said, his voice a little hoarser than usual. “A few weeks after we’d joined up, during our first expedition, things went wrong. And they died because of an error in judgement.” He looked up, met Armin's eyes. “My fault.”

 Armin shook his head, tongue-tied, shocked. 

“Like you, it made its mark on me, that mistake,” Levi continued, voice flat. “But unlike you, I didn’t get paralysed. I just became obsessed with protecting people. Terrified of repeating the same mistake, doing anything to prevent it from happening again.”

“Isn’t – isn’t that a good thing?” Armin asked hesitantly.

“Not if it interferes with strategies. I lost sight of the bigger picture. Protecting people now can mean putting people in danger in the longterm. But I couldn’t see that. Not until Erwin dragged me to his office and laid it all out to me.” He dipped his head, looking at Armin from underneath his eyebrows. “You can’t let their deaths impact your judgement.”

Armin shook his head. “It – it wasn’t that. It wasn’t an error in judgement. It was a mistake, a stupid avoidable mistake. I can’t afford to make those, I can’t, not with my responsibilities.”

“No one is infallible. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Erwin didn’t,” Armin said gloomily.

Levi made a strange sound. Almost like a laugh, but Levi didn’t laugh, and anyway, that sounded much too bitter to qualify as laughter.

“What?” Armin asked, confused.

“Erwin made mistakes,” Levi said. “Plenty of them. It’s how he learned. And yes, people did die because of that.”

“How did he – how did he handle that? How could he just carry on?”

Levi met Armin’s eyes. “He stopped caring.”

“Oh.”

“I think that was part of why he needed me by his side,” Levi said. “I can’t switch off that caring. I made sure he didn’t go too far. Reminded him of the importance of those deaths he caused.”

“I – I thought you needed to stop caring,” Armin said. “How else can you make big decisions, if you’re too caught up in the importance of the individual lives?”

“To a certain extent, yes. But if you start seeing people as nothing but pawns, you become reckless. Casual. Throwing lives away without a care.” Levi tilted his head. “You need to find a balance.”

Armin looked down.

“Some mistakes we can learn from,” Levi said. “And some are just stupid, the consequence of exhaustion, of having too much to do in too little time. But they happen, and they’ll continue to happen. You can’t avoid them entirely. You just need to learn to live with them. It’s part of being a leader.”

“It’s hard,” Armin sighed.

Levi made another of those strange laugh-like sounds. “Yeah, it is. And no one is going to thank you for it.”

Armin shook his head. “I really don’t understand why some people would want to be a leader.”

“Because some people are idiots,” Levi said derisively.

Armin laughed, weakly. “If any of those would want to take over for a day, see what it’s really like…”

“You wouldn’t, you’re too responsible for that.” Levi leaned forward. “Now. If you want to punish yourself in a meaningful way, write the condolence letters.”

Armin nodded, slowly. “I think I will. It’s – it’s my responsibility, isn’t it? No matter what I feel about it.”

“Exactly.”

Armin mulled it over for a few moments. He still felt horrible. He could still see the scene play out in all its horrifying detail. But…

But he had to deal. He was in charge now. He had no choice, all he could do was – Like Eren had said, all he could do was try his best.

Armin looked up. Levi was still sitting down, watching him impassively. Waiting.

Armin slowly walked over to Levi. He still felt shaky, fragile, but less of a mess than he did when he came in.

“Responsibility,” Armin said softly, looking down at Levi.

“Yes.”

He stayed where he was for a moment, looking down, feeling weariness press down on him.

Then he jerked his chin. “On the bed.”

Levi obeyed immediately.

***

I regret to inform you your son has died in action on the 25^th of September. We will remember him as a brave soldier, a loyal protector of his comrades and devoted to his duty.

Inadequate as always, but there was no way to do this kind of thing justice.

Armin scribbled his autograph underneath it, then shoved it onto a pile of documents to be sent to Levi and Hange to co-sign.

The first condolence letter had been a trial, every word he wrote a silent recrimination, blaming him of his failure. He’d locked himself up in his room for a full day, trying to create something that wouldn’t feel terribly inadequate, until Mikasa had broken down his door and dragged him out.

But it was amazing what you could get used to.

He glared at his desk for a moment, then got up and left the room.

People he passed nodded at him. One or two even saluted. It was odd; he was still just a recruit, officially speaking, but more and more people were treating him like he was a Squad Leader at least.

He made his way down to the training grounds. A couple of the 104^th were in the ring. Mikasa and Eren were fighting – Eren losing as usual, and getting increasingly frustrated by it – and Sasha and Connie were watching from the sidelines, munching on bread they must have stolen from the kitchen. He really needed to tell them that was out of the question, but…

Couldn’t he just be not the leader, for one moment?

“Commander,” a cheerful voice said next to his ear.

Armin jumped, then whirled. Hange was standing next to him, leaning on the fence.

“Why do you call me that?” Armin said, suddenly feeling a little angry about it. “I’m not. I’m just a recruit.”

“Just recruits don’t give orders, kiddo. You might not have the stripes but you’ve got the moves, and personally, I think it’s silly just waiting for confirmation of what everyone already knows. So…” They grinned at him. “Commander Arlert it is.”

He shook his head. “I’m not. You all just follow my orders because you choose to, not because you have to. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“You really think that?”

He glanced at Hange. “I’m a recruit. They can all turn around and ignore me and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“You, maybe not, but Captain Shortass would tear out the throats of anyone stupid enough to go against you.” They grinned again. “Handy, isn’t it, having your own bulldog?”

Armin looked down at his fidgeting hands. “I never asked for this.”

“Those who ask for leadership rarely are fit for it,” Hange said, sounding unusually sober.

Armin looked at them. “You were acting Commander for a while, weren’t you?”

“Yep.” Hange pulled a face. “I know exactly what you’re going through, kid. Well, not exactly, maybe…” they added, with a wink.

Armin blushed and quickly looked away. “I never understood that,” he said, trying to change the subject. “Why he chose you and not Levi. He’d be the obvious choice.”

“Maybe, to outsiders. You should know better, though.” Hange turned, leaning their back against the fence. “I’m sure Levi can lead, if he had no other choice. But at what cost? Nah, Captain shit-for-brains is far better off being someone’s enforcer. He isn’t made for the front stage.”

“And I am?” Armin said sharply.

“You’re doing pretty well so far.” Hange looked at him from under their eyebrows. “C’mon, Arlert. If Levi supports you, that must mean something. You can see that, yeah?”

He slowly shook his head. “He’s – I don’t know.”

“Also I doubt Levi would be doing the dirty with anyone not worth their salt.” Hange shook their head. “A ringing endorsement there if ever I saw one.”

Armin choked. “You – you know?”

“I’d have to be blind not to, kid. My room’s opposite of his, remember?” Hange grinned wide. “Strange noises from his bedroom, you sneaking down the hallway, and the next morning short-and-grumpy is walking around looking like he got run over by a carriage. I can put two and two together.”

“I, uh, but, we – we don’t – ”

“Relax.” Hange shrugged. “It’s no big deal. No one’s going to say anything. It was the same with Erwin and Levi, you know. Everyone knew they were fucking, but no one actually mentioned that to their face. Or behind their backs, actually.”

“Because they respected both of them too much, I know that,” Armin said quickly. “But I’m – I’m just – ”

“The guy who’s leading them into battle and guiding them out again with minimal deaths. That’s worth respect, no matter how tiny-and-cute-looking you are, Armin.” Hange’s grin softened a little. “Levi isn’t the only one who believes in you.”

Armin shook his head. “I’m just not sure if I deserve that.”

“Well, you have so far.” Hange clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s try to keep it up, huh?”

***

“Did you know Hange knows about us?”

Levi made a disgusted noise. “What did they do this time?”

“Nothing, really. We just talked.”

“You’d do well to ignore ‘em. Half of what comes out of Hange’s mouth is complete and utter fucking bullshit.”

“They made sense to me, though.”

“I’m sure. Now can we get on with this?”

“Oh, sor-” Armin stopped himself. “In my own time,” he said instead.

Levi grunted.

Armin looked down at him.

Sometimes he liked having Levi on his knees. Sometimes he liked him on the bed. There was an idea simmering in the back of his head about having Levi stand, back to him and hands high against the wall, but he hadn’t fully figured that out yet.

This time, they’d started kneeling. Levi was already pretty bruised up before they’d moved it to the bed again and Armin had gotten out the razor.

“They called me Commander,” Armin said, thoughtfully.

“I can’t talk and do this at the same time,” Levi said, irritably. “Pick one.”

Armin roughly grabbed Levi’s neck and Levi made a choked noise. “Okay,” Armin said, lightly. “Talking later.”

Levi gave a croak in assent. Armin let go and returned to what he was doing.

“Lie still,” he said absently, eyes drifting over Levi’s chest. He carefully lowered the razor to Levi’s midsection and rested the point of it just below the endpoint of his breastbone.

Levi breathed in deeply and he moved his arm, grasping the sheets.

“I said, lie still,” Armin repeated. “And shut up.”

“I fu-”

Armin backhanded him. Levi’s head snapped around, blood spattering across the pillow and before he could recover Armin put aside the knife and hauled Levi around, so he was face-down on the bed.

Levi got his arm underneath him and tried to push up, lift his face. Armin grabbed Levi’s wrist and pulled, twisting Levi’s arm painfully behind his back. Levi still tried to get up but Armin planted his knee in the small of Levi’s back, securing his grip. There. No more wiggle room.

The fighting back was a recent development, and one that Levi had been very careful about it at first. On the whole Armin actually enjoyed it; having Levi struggle a little only made the satisfaction of pushing him down that much better.

But right now, for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling that Levi was indulging him. Even though the position was strong, good, solid – but if they’d been actually fighting, Levi would’ve had him down in three seconds flat.

Armin frowned. It was starting to bother him, and he’d found that as soon as there was something little like that interfering, he lost this state of mind and got distracted, and not in a good way. He needed to find some way to get rid of this feeling, to make sure Levi wasn’t just rolling over because he felt like it. Armin looked around the room, thinking. What could he…

Aha.

He lifted his knee from Levi’s back. “Turn around and arms up,” he said, leaning over the edge of the bed. He was pretty pleased with how he sounded. Giving orders was starting to become – not exactly natural, not yet, but it was getting easier each time they did this.

He straightened back up, holding Levi’s harness. Levi frowned at it, hands moving away from the bed.

“Hold still,” Armin said, slightly irritated.

Levi stilled. Armin took the harness and looped the straps first around the holes in the headboard, then around Levi’s wrists. He pulled the buckles tight and leaned back again.

Levi had gone very very still.

Armin blinked in surprise. Levi wasn’t much of a squirmer, true, but this kinda pinged Armin’s warning senses. Was something wrong?

He shook it off and grabbed Levi’s throat. Levi made a choked noise, eyes going wide. His foot kicked against the mattress.

Armin’s worry deepened. This kind of open reaction wasn’t normal. Was it?

Experimentally he raised his hand as if he was about to hit. Levi’s face turned, eyes squeezed shut, bracing himself – something he never did, not like that.

Right. Something was definitely wrong.

Armin immediately reached up and pulled the harness loose, then sat back, away from Levi.

“What the hell are you stopping for?” Levi snarled.

“You.”

Levi stared at him for a moment. Then he jumped up and stalked to the window, back to Armin. His hands rested on the wall, in clenched fists. His shoulders were shaking.

Armin looked at the harness, deeply confused. Had something about that set Levi off? That was the only thing he could think of, but he’d had bound Levi’s wrists once before and that hadn’t been a problem. Besides, they’d talked about it, and he was pretty damn sure that if it was a problem, Levi would have mentioned it. Instead he’d sounded perfectly casual about it, not a hint of unease in sight, he’d even mentioned that he’d had a fair amount of experience with them befo-

Oh.

Of course. How stupid he was not to realise sooner.

“Levi?” he asked carefully.

Levi slammed his fist hard against the wall. Armin jolted in shock.

His first instinct was to leave. And if this had happened a few weeks earlier, he would have. But right now the thought of leaving Levi behind like this went against his every instinct.

This thing wasn’t done yet.

“Levi,” he said, voice firm. “Get back here.”

Levi didn’t react.

“Levi,” Armin repeated, with a little more emphasis.

Levi stayed where he was for a moment or two. Then he turned.

His face was dry, but his eyes were red.

“Here,” Armin ordered, soft but firm.

Levi stared at him. He looked at the door, at the window, back at Armin. Then – it was like someone had cut the wires on him, he simply sagged with a huge sigh and came back to the bed. He immediately curled onto his side, close to but not touching Armin. His breathing was still uneven.

Armin swallowed, feeling out of his depth much like he had the first time Levi had propositioned him. But he couldn’t give into that. He had responsibilities.

He carefully put his hand on Levi’s shoulder. Levi jolted at the touch, then relaxed, slowly. Armin rubbed his thumb over Levi’s arm.

Slowly Levi’s breathing evened out, going deep, slow.

It took a moment before Armin realised he’d fallen asleep.

Armin looked down at him. With his eyes closed, he looked simultaneously younger and older. Lines more defined in his face, but there was also a sharpness about him that had now faded.

Armin carefully brushed a strand of hair away from Levi’s face. Levi briefly frowned, then relaxed again.

Time to leave, probably. Armin tried to take his hand back but Levi immediately made a small noise, much like the ones he made when the pain was getting bad. A whimper.

Armin settled back and prepared himself for a long sleepless night.

***

Next morning Armin woke abruptly. It took a moment before he realised where he was – the bedrooms in the HQ all looked pretty much the same – but then memories came flooding back.

He cautiously peeked to his side. The bed was empty, but the bedsheets were rumpled and – he patted the mattress – still mostly warm.

A tinkle. Armin looked up.

Levi was standing by the dressing table, shaving, his back to Armin.

Armin blinked. Had he dreamed Levi’s breakdown? Imagined it somehow? But why else would he have stayed here tonight – unless it was actually Armin who had broken down and he had projected that onto Levi? Were his memories reliable?

He glanced at the wall. There was a bit of plaster peeling off near the floor, and a faint reddish smear above that. That hadn’t been there before. Levi kept his room immaculate.

Levi…

Levi didn’t panic, he didn’t cry, he didn’t break down. Armin couldn’t count the times he had heard people calling Levi inhuman, often with an undertone of anger or fear, or disgust. By now, Armin was pretty certain that wasn’t true. Levi did feel things, of course he did. He just had an immense amount of emotional self-control. There was no other choice, not if you have to do the kind of things Levi had to do. You’d have to learn to numb your feelings, or you’d go mad.

But last night, that control had broken. Something had happened, some feeling strong enough to break through all his defences, to make him want to hurt himself with how much he couldn’t bear it, to –

- to make him show all that in front of Armin.

Armin eyed Levi’s back. The return to normalcy was jarring, but what else could he expect? He seriously doubted Levi appreciated having a witness to his one moment of vulnerability. But - did Levi really just want to go on as nothing happened?

“Do you – do you want to talk about it?” Armin asked hesitantly.

Levi tinged his razor against the bowl. “No.”

Armin looked down. Honestly, if he were in the position Levi was in now, he’d probably wouldn't want to talk about it either. Some things, it helped to talk about, but other things sometimes ran so deep that words couldn’t even touch them.

And Levi’s grief – what the hell could Armin say about that, anyway? That he was sorry that Erwin had died? That he hadn’t known just how much losing him hurt Levi? Those would just do more damage than good.

No; if Levi didn’t want to talk, he should respect that. So –

“Okay,” Armin said.

Levi turned. He was frowning, and the look in his eyes was even by his standards pretty intense. “Just like that?” he asked. “You’re not curious?”

“Of course I am,” Armin said, honestly. “But I’m not going to make you share something you don’t want to. Not if it isn’t relevant, at any rate.”

Levi slowly shook his head. “You couldn’t be less fucking alike if you tried,” he muttered, “and then sometimes…”

“Sometimes?” Armin prompted gently.

“Sometimes it’s like he’s right back in the fucking room.” Levi turned his back on Armin, movement suddenly a little jagged.

Armin stayed quiet, a little thrown. He’d never before thought to compare himself to Erwin – not favourably, anyway. He had definitely never really considered any similarities between him and Erwin. Levi saw something, though – but what?

Not a conversation for now, though. Levi might look back to his usual, but Armin didn’t doubt that that was just a façade.

“Do you want me to leave?” Armin asked, fully expecting a positive answer.

Surprisingly, Levi didn’t answer immediately. And when he did, he simply said, “No.”

“Oh,” Armin said. “Okay.”

Levi continued shaving. He was as precise and neat about it as always, but Armin could still detect a certain tenseness in his shoulders, his back.

Armin let his eyes wander to the window. It was still early, the bright light of dawn just coming in. He would need to find a moment to take a quick nap somewhere today. He’d spent the first few hours of the night painfully awake, constantly aware of Levi by his side. Levi, meanwhile, had slept like a child. And it had done him good, apparently. Armin glanced back - 

- and started. Levi was watching him, rather intently. 

But he didn’t speak. He just watched, his hands leaning on the dressing table behind him, face calm. Armin didn’t look away.

“So Hange called you Commander,” Levi said.

Armin blinked. “Uh, yes. I don’t – I mean, if you don’t want to talk right now I totally get th-”

“It’s fine,” Levi said impatiently. “So. Does it bother you?”

“A little.” Armin frowned. “I’m not the Commander. I’m just an – an advisor, right? The final decision isn’t mine.”

“So you’re afraid of the responsibility?” Levi asked, eyebrows raised.

Armin opened his mouth, closed it again. “I – I suppose so? But it – it just isn’t right. What right do I have of making decisions like that?”

“You already do,” Levi pointed out. “The title is just a formality.”

“That’s what Hange said too, but it’s not true.” Armin slowly shook his head. “My orders are followed because you choose to follow them. It’s not – it’s not real power. You can equally choose not to follow them.”

“What do you think real power is?” Levi asked, looking oddly amused.

“Sorry?” Armin asked, confused.

“All orders are subject to choice. You never have to obey. The choice is always yours. Sure, the consequences of disobeying an official Commander would be more serious than disobeying a recruit, but Commanders can be deposed. Mutiny can always happen. No power is absolute.”

Armin frowned. “I’m going to need to think about that.”

“You do that.”  Levi turned, then threw a shirt at Armin. “And get dressed. You can’t afford lazing around.”

“Of course,” Armin said, scrambling out of bed. “Is – is this one of mine?” he added, looking down at the clean shirt.

“Stole it from the laundry last week, just in case. Your other one is stained.”

“Oh, okay.” Armin pulled off his own shirt, put on the new one. “Thanks,” he added.

Levi looked at him again, with a slight frown. “You’re welcome.”

Armin hesitated briefly, wondering if he should say something, make an attempt at comfort.

But this was Levi. Whatever he took comfort in, it wasn’t awkward words or tired old platitudes. And Armin couldn’t think of anything else.

So he just shook his head. “I’ll let you know when I need you,” he said.

Levi nodded. “I’ll be there. Now get out.”

Armin smiled and left the room.

***

“Is it true?”

Armin looked between Eren and Mikasa, who had popped up in the hallway and now flanked him. “Sorry?”

“That you spent the night in Captain Levi’s bedroom,” Eren said, voice hushed.

“Oh. Yes?”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. “You mean you and Levi – ”

“What? No, not – nothing like that.” Armin felt his cheeks warm up. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Why is it ridiculous?” Mikasa asked. She sounded as calm as ever, but behind that front Armin thought he detected some kind of anger. “You spend hours with him, in private, doing things you refuse to talk about but that leave your knuckles bruised and your shirts stained.”

“What?” Eren exclaimed.

Armin quickly pulled the cuff of his shirt over his right hand. “It’s not like that. We’re not – he’s just helping me work through some things.”

“Like what?” Eren asked.

“And how?” Mikasa added darkly.

“It’s – stuff about being a leader. He knows, all right? Like no one else here does, because of him and Erwin, they…” He trailed off.

“Armin.” Mikasa stepped in front of him and took his shoulders. She looked serious, even more so than usual. “Are you okay with what’s happening?”

He put his hand over hers. “I am,” he said, pouring all the confidence and authority he could manage into his voice. “I really am.”

Her eyes went between his, as if she was trying to see the sincerity there.

“Although I could do without being the topic of gossip,” Armin added, with a weak smile.

“Don’t worry about that,” Eren said, full of his usual brash confidence. “Mikasa and I will take care of that.”

***

The next day Armin ran into Jean, who had a black eye. Before he could ask what happened, Jean shot him one nervous look, then rushed in the other direction.

From behind Jean’s back, Eren gave him the thumbs-up.

***

If anyone else gossiped about Armin after that, he didn’t notice it. What he did notice was the way people moved out of the way to let him pass – not obviously, not to make a point, but naturally, as if they didn’t even have to think about it. There were looks, too, like during the strategic meetings he had with the other Squad Leaders before going outside again; they tended to glance at him whenever someone made a suggestion, almost as if –

As if they needed his permission.

Armin rubbed his forehead as he walked down the hallway. The respect was welcome, but did feel odd. In the heat of battle he could deal with it, but outside of that, in the relative peace of HQ…

Still. He could hardly complain that people were being too respectful, right?

He eyed Levi’s door wistfully as he passed it. Levi wasn’t it; Armin had told him to go training himself. Didn’t mean he didn’t feel a longing little twinge. It had been more than a week – almost two weeks, now? – since the last time he'd been inside Levi's room, and it was starting to chafe a little.

He shouldn’t overindulge, though. He couldn’t afford having Levi permanently injured, and their – their whatever-it-was had been getting pretty intense lately.

Armin pushed the door to his room open with a sigh. The desk next to the window was heaped with papers, envelopes. Mail. Boring work, this.

He bit his lip. What he really wanted was just to go out, join Eren and Mikasa in training. Or not even join, just sit by and watch as they and Levi practiced those almost shockingly graceful moves of theirs.

But he had responsibility. Another sigh, and he sat down, sorting through the envelopes. Mostly reports, bills, and –

And one letter directly addressed to him.

He frowned at it, flipped it around. The front bore the official stamp of the Military HQ.

Carefully, slowly, he took a letter opener and slit the envelope open. He got out the letter and quickly ran his eyes over the elegantly written words.

Then he slid down heavily in his chair.

***

“Armin?”

Armin wrapped his arms around his legs and leaned his head on his knees, eyes shut. Five stories lower, on the ground floor, Eren called his name again.

“Armin? Are you here?”

Armin tightened his grip on his legs, stubbornly staying invisible.

Eren didn’t call out again. Armin took a deep shaking breath.

He was being stupid. The sun was going down. Before long, people would start getting seriously worried about where he’d disappeared off to. They might even start thinking that someone had hurt him, taken him, or they might set up a search party and how the fuck would they react if they found him here, hiding on the roof like a scared child?

But he still couldn’t face going down.

For once, even the thought of talking to Eren and Mikasa was too much. And that was stupid too, because how many times had they seen him scared, crying, weak? They didn’t mind, they accepted him the way he was. But they –

They wouldn’t understand. They were fearless. If Eren wanted something he threw himself in without any regard for safety or caution, and Mikasa… Mikasa had given up on fear a long time ago. Talking to them about this damn terror – that was impossible. They would never, ever understand.

Armin choked back a sob. Not that anyone could hear him. He’d come up to the roof exactly for that reason. No one would bother him here. Here he could just be, no pressure, no one to ask things from him he couldn’t give, nerves eating away at him until he could feel every muscle in his body cramp up.

He knew what he should do. He should be down in his office, preparing. Or, no, that wasn’t true. What he should do, what was the wise if not entirely normal thing to do, was to take all this tension and insecurity to Levi and letting it out there, with him. But...

Levi was as fearless as Mikasa. Levi was surrounded by people who were brave beyond measure. Levi had served under a man who, if he had at one point felt fear, had mastered it in the purest way possible. Levi would be disgusted if he knew how Armin felt.

Armin chewed on his nails, feeling stupidly close to tears. What he wanted more than anything right now was just go to Mikasa and Eren, not to explain or to talk but just to curl up with them, trust them to protect him. But he couldn’t.

Their protection and comfort was something he really couldn’t rely on anymore.

A loud creak made him jump. His head whipped around. The hatch that gave access to the roof was opening.

To his horror, it was Levi who got out.

 Armin quickly looked away, one arm tight around his legs, wishing as hard as he could that Levi would take one look at him and turn back. He’d read Armin’s moods accurately so often before.

But for some reason, this time Levi’s empathy failed. He just closed the hatch and came over to sit down next to Armin

“How?” Armin asked, after a moment or two, his voice hoarse. “How did you find me?”

“Mikasa sent me up here.”

The idea of Mikasa and Levi working together like that was so surprising Armin actually turned to look at him. Levi raised an eyebrow. “That should give you some idea how seriously worried she is. Eren too.”

Armin looked down again. Guilt joined all the other shit. He felt like he was stuck in a swamp, slowly sinking deeper, and there was no way to free himself. It was getting harder and harder not to cry - and that in itself was so pathetic that it just added to the pile until he could see nothing but –

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Levi asked.

Because he was ashamed. Sure, Levi had seen him scared and insecure before but that was – was normal. This, this paralysing fear, that was not. That was him being a stupid child. And he didn’t want –  It had become important to him that the people around him saw him as someone they could respect. Not someone who was nearly hyperventilating because he simply had to say a few words in public.

“I’m assuming this is about the meeting with Zackley?” Levi asked. “The invitation?”

Armin gave a tight nod.

“You’re ashamed? Of being nervous about it?”

Armin pressed his lips together, nodded again.

“Why?”

Armin closed his eyes.

“You’re going to face people who have three times the experience you have,” Levi said. “People with power.”

“I know,” Armin said quietly.

“Afraid of fucking up?”

“Not even – not even that.” Armin squeezed his eyes shut again. “I know I’ll fuck up. This isn’t – this isn’t something I can do. I’m sorry,” he added, automatically.

Levi snorted.

Armin burrowed deeper into himself, trying to disappear.

“You’ve faced – how many battles now?” Levi asked. “You do realise most of the people inside that fucking room won’t even have seen one, right?”

“That’s not it,” Armin said. “It’s – I – I don’t – ”

“I don’t need to know.”

Armin looked aside, cheek resting on his knee. Levi wasn’t looking at him, which helped matters.

“I don’t need to know why you’re feeling the way you do,” Levi continued. “If you want, I can listen. I can even talk you through it – although, I’ll be honest, I’m not great at this stuff. But I don’t need to know. I just need to know how to make it better.”

“Like you did for Erwin.”

“Yes.”

Armin’s stomach turned. He pressed his forehead against his knee. “This is – is wrong.”

“I thought you got over that.”

“Not that, not what we do. This. The – ” He gritted his teeth. “I’m not Erwin. I’ll never be. Comparing me in any way to him is a – a farce, that’s what it is. A joke.”

“Shouldn’t you let me judge that?”

Armin looked up. Levi was watching him again, and the calm patience just highlighted how utterly stupid and childish Armin was being.

“I knew Erwin better than anyone,” Levi said. “And I know you pretty well by now, too. You’re right, you’re not Erwin, but you’re made of the same stuff.”

Armin shook his head, lip curled in a sick smile. “No, I‘m really not. I know how to – how to pretend, how to stumble through, but I’m not any good. Not really. Not like he was.”

“You’re the best we have.”

“And it isn’t enough, okay?” Armin balled his hands into fists. “I’m not enough.”

“Quit whining,” Levi said irritably. “You think you have a choice in this?”

Armin jumped up and stared at Levi, breathing hard. He couldn’t get a handle on what he was feeling, couldn’t control it, couldn’t even damn well name it, and he wanted –

Above all, he wanted out.

“Tell me what I can do,” Levi said, looking up at Armin.

“Bedroom,” Armin snapped.

***

The door had barely closed before the first punch connected. Levi stumbled back, hand on his jaw. “Impatient, are we?”

“Shut up,” Armin snarled. He lashed out again, a backhand across Levi’s face, a hard low punch straight in his stomach. Levi stumbled again, struggling to straighten up.

“Get it under control,” Levi said, as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “Don’t let it rule you.”

Armin couldn’t. He knew that, as much as he knew that the words made sense in theory. Controlling it meant examining it and he didn’t want –

All he wanted was to get out. And he couldn’t.

“Stand up,” Armin said, heart hammering in his chest. Levi straightened up, but he was frowning at Armin, with a level of concern Armin had never seen before. “And stop – stop looking like that.”

He hit Levi again, a hard punch against his chin. Levi staggered and spat blood onto the floor. “Get a fucking grip,” he growled, “before you – ”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.” He tried to hit but Levi dodged. “Stop that, stop doing – stop – ”

“Armin.”

“Don’t.”

The next punch landed true, against Levi’s ribs. The punch hurt his hand but he welcomed the pain of it. Who fucking cared if he broke his hand? It wasn’t like he was any good in a fight anyway.

“Armin, you – ”

“Stop it,” he breathed. “Stop – stop looking at me like that, stop – stop it, I don’t want, I don’t – ”

“Armin,” Levi said again, reaching for him. Armin caught his wrist and wrenched it away from him.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t, he never did, he wanted it gone he wanted to escape run away be safe again but he was stuck and he wasn’t good enough strong enough brave enough –

“You need to contr- ”

“You should have let me die,” Armin yelled. He backhanded Levi again. “You should have chosen Erwin, not me. You should have let me die.”

The next hit sent Levi sprawling to the floor.

Armin backed away, bile rising to his throat, the furious impotent ashamed anger making him tremble with how much he needed it to be out.

Levi spat his blood onto the tiles, then raised his head. “No.”

Armin kicked him in the stomach. The force of it sent Levi onto his back. Armin straddled him and grabbed his shirtfront, pulled him up, punched him once, twice.

“You should have let me die,” he yelled. “You made the wrong choice, it shouldn’t have been me, it should have – I should be dead.”

He raised his hand but before he could hit, Levi caught his wrist. He pushed up, pulled, and suddenly Armin was the one on his back and Levi was on top of him. Armin pulled against the grip but Levi grabbed hold of his other wrist and pinned them both to the floor.

“Let me go!” he yelled, struggling futilely against Levi. “I should be dead, I shouldn’t be here, let me go, let me go, please let me – ” His voice broke, words devolving into unintelligible sobs.

Levi kept him pinned down, not giving an inch.

It was cruel. Armin couldn't do anything about it, he couldn't even think. All he could do was feel, these overwhelming waves of pain that left him no option but to cry, and sob, and choke, pain that didn't stop, pain he couldn't bear, that was too big for him, too strong, that felt like it wanted to tear its way out of him.

Until – after what felt like an eternity – even that became too much and he just lay back quietly, Levi's weight still on top of him.

His throat hurt. His face felt swollen. He wanted more than anything to curl up and hide somewhere, but Levi still wasn’t letting go of his wrists.

“Let me go,” Armin said, again, his voice thick.

“Not unless you order me to.”

“I just did.”

“Did you?”

Armin looked up at him, vision still blurry with tears.

This was Levi. Captain Levi. Hero-of-humanity-Levi. Why the fuck would he listen to a snivelling little kid?

He closed his eyes, too tired even to cry.

“Armin.” Levi’s voice was calm, but firm. “Order me.”

Armin swallowed, shook his head, weakly. “I  - I can’t, I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do. You’ve done it before. Remember?”

Armin carefully opened his eyes again.

Levi was right. He had ordered Levi around. Over and over again. And Levi had obeyed, ‘cause he –

Levi listened to him.

“Get off me,” Armin said, softly.

Levi let go. Armin sat up, rubbing his wrists. They hurt a little; Levi’s grip had been tight.

He got to his feet, still shaking. Levi stayed on the floor, watching him carefully. But he didn't say a word.

Armin ran his hands over his face, wiping away the tears, then started pacing up and down the room. His face was hot, and he felt incredibly fragile, like all he needed was one small push and he'd be on the ground sobbing his guts out again. He still wanted to hide somewhere, somewhere safe and warm but –

But this. Here. Wasn't that safety? 

Armin took a deep breath, then glanced at Levi. “Stand up,” he said, trying to achieve that specific cadence of calm secure authority he’d sometimes managed to hit before. He was way off, but still…

Levi got to his feet, eyes fixed on Armin.

Levi listened to him. Not because he was indulging Armin, not because he felt any kind of pity or affection or obligation to him – Levi didn’t do those feelings, everyone knew that. So, Levi listened to Armin because Armin was worth listening to.

Levi didn’t listen to a lot of people. Levi certainly didn’t listen to the types of Nile or Zackley.

But he did listen to Armin.

As if to put that thought to the test, Armin turned to Levi and said, “Kneel.”

Levi obeyed without hesitation.

A pure little thrill ran through Armin. It was a bit like the very first time they’d done this, but without the shame or fear - he simply didn't have any shame left to feel, not after what just happened. 

On impulse, he took Levi's chin and lifted his head a little, eyes roaming over that pale calm face. He'd gotten good at picking up Levi's tiny signals of anger or irritation, but right now all he could detect was calm and care.

“You're not disgusted by me,” Armin said, with wonder.

Levi shook his head.

“It got too much,” Armin said. “But I think I've - I've got it back under control now.”

Levi nodded, far too much understanding in his expression.

Armin frowned, tilted his head. He hadn't even seemed surprised, Levi. And sure, Levi was good at improvising and reading people's moods, but this was something else. He'd known exactly what to do, which could only mean...

“Did Erwin ever do this?” Armin asked, hand still on Levi's jaw.

Levi looked hesitant.

“Tell me,” Armin said.

“Yes. Not often, but yes. Once or twice.”

Armin let out a long breath. The guilt and inadequacy was still clawing at him, but it –

It was done. He couldn’t take the decision back. He couldn’t change that anymore.

The only thing left to do was to make the best out of the situation.

“I’m – I’m not entirely sure what I need right now,” Armin said, carefully. “I’m not sure if I can…”

“In my opinion? You need rest.” Levi shifted. “Can I get up?”

Armin nodded. Levi got back to his feet, dusting off his clothes. Then he took Armin’s shoulder and guided him to the bed. It felt weird, being the passive one for once.

And then that felt weird, because he’d always been the passive one, the one who needed protection and someone to tell him what to do. When had that stopped being the default?

Armin shook his head. His thoughts were all running together, one big undecipherable mess. Levi was right, he did need rest.

Levi pushed him on the bed. Armin took off his boots, then curled up on the mattress. Levi made to leave.

“Stay,” Armin said, eyes already half closed.

Levi seemed to hesitate.

But the last thing Armin saw before he drifted off to sleep was Levi getting back on the bed.

***

There was someone sleeping next to him.

He wasn't in his own bed, either, but there was still something familiar about the scent of the sheets. Clean, fresh. Oddly comforting. Even the shape lying next to him, their slow deep breath and warmth felt like it belonged there, but who - 

Levi.

Armin rolled onto his side. Levi’s eyes were closed, his face relaxed. His breathing was coming slow, regular. Very regular. Armin squinted, counted…

“You’re not asleep, are you?” he asked.

Levi’s eyes popped open. “No,” he admitted. “How did you know?”

“No one breathes that regularly.” Armin got up, sheets sliding to his waist. “But thanks for the, uh, the moment of privacy.”

“You’re welcome.”

Armin put his feet on the floor. They were bare, surprisingly, and he was missing his shirt too. He didn’t remember taking either of those off. For that matter, he didn’t even remember getting underneath the sheets. Did Levi tuck him in?

Now there was a thought.

Armin went to the night table. He splashed some cool water onto his face, then looked into the mirror. Still a little puffy around the eyes, but nothing serious.

He took a deep breath and examined his feelings next. Still scared, still wobbly, but that horrible panic had disappeared, thankfully.

A rustle behind him. Armin turned. Levi got out of the bed, a little gingerly.

“Thank you,” Armin said.

Levi shrugged. “It’s what I’m here for.”

“Is it?” Armin pushed his hair away from his face. “How did you know what to do?”

“Like I said.” Lev reached down for his shirt, conveniently turning his back to Armin. “Erwin used to break down too, sometimes.”

Armin watched him for a moment, then walked to the window, giving Levi at least some semblance of privacy. He pushed the curtain aside, and squinted at the light. It was already a great deal later than he’d thought. “You should’ve woken me up,” he said, with a quick glance over his shoulder.

“Then you should’ve told me to.”

“I was asleep,” Armin said, with half a smile.

Levi shrugged again.

Armin shook his head and reached up to pull the curtains open. The movement made a dull pain in his hand flare up sharply. He pulled his hand back, then made a surprised sound when he saw the bruised and bloodied knuckles.

“Something wrong?” Levi asked.

“Hurt my hand. It’s – ” Armin broke off.

He stared.

He’d gotten into the habit of avoiding Levi’s face lately, but last night he’d obviously been too occupied with other things to remember that. The bright morning light did nothing to hide the consequences of that lack of care: Levi looked horrid. His lips were split, his eye blackened, his cheek swollen and discolored…

“I’ve had worse,” Levi said, with his typical lack of drama.

“People are going to talk,” Armin said, a little thrown.

“Good. Keeps their thoughts off other things.” Levi went to the night table. “Come here.”

Armin cautiously came over to join him. As soon as he was close, Levi took Armin’s hand and carefully submerged it into his bowl of water. Armin hissed at the sudden sharp sting and tried to pull back instinctively, but Levi held him down.

Odd. The closest they must have ever come to role reversal, this. What was it Levi had said again, that first time? That you could only do this with someone you trusted completely?

Armin smiled, wryly. Typical for him not to realise the double meaning behind that.

“We’re meeting Hange in about half an hour,” Levi said, while he was cleaning up Armin’s hand.

“Doesn’t give me much time to prepare.”

“You don’t need preparation.” A quick look. “Do you?”

Armin shook his head. It was true, he did know all the important facts and numbers by heart, it was just the way his mind worked.

“The best you could do in this situation was rest as much as possible,” Levi said.

“Which I did. Thanks to you.”

“Yeah, well.”

Armin pulled his hand out of the water. Levi got out a piece of clean bandage and wrapped it expertly around Armin’s knuckles.

“I’m still scared,” Armin blurted.

“Yeah,” Levi said. “But you’re still going. Aren’t you?”

Armin curled his fingers. The pain burned low across his knuckles. “Yes,” he said, slowly. “Yes, I’m going.”

***

The meeting was held in the Central Command Building.

Armin had never been inside before. He’d glimpsed it from the outside, and had marvelled like everyone else at the impressive front, but he’d never dreamed he’d set foot inside. And yet here he was, flanked by Levi and Hange, summoned by Zackley himself.

His stomach was doing somersaults. His hands were sweating. His vision felt over-focused, too sharp - and wouldn’t it be fabulous if he fainted right here, right now?

He gritted his teeth and marched on. He couldn’t let everyone down like that.

They stopped in front of a door. Levi made to enter but Hange yanked him back, then knocked. They waited for a moment. Levi made an impatient sound.

Then a deep voice said “Enter.”

Levi held the door open for Armin. He went in, heart beating overtime.

Zackley was seated behind his desk. He barely glanced up when they entered. “Ah, the Survey Corps’ best. Let’s keep this short, I – What happened to your face?” he interrupted himself, staring at Levi.

“Training,” Levi deadpanned.

“I… see.”

Armin peeked quickly around the room. It wasn't the great big meeting room he'd been expecting, nor were there any other people inside. No panels, no row of judging faces. Just the Supreme Commander.

Who was, of course, intimidating enough all on his own.

“Anyway.” Zackley cleared his throat. “Like I said, I want to keep this brief. You are a Commander short, and desperately in need of a new one.”

“We’ve been doing fine these last few months,” Levi said sharply. “I don’t see why – ”

“Levi,” Armin chided, gently.

Levi closed his mouth, still looking pissed-off.

Zackley’s eyes went to Armin. “So this is him, hm?”

Armin saluted. “Armin Arlert, recruit of the 104^th Training Squad, proud member of the Survey Corps, sir!”

“Hah. At ease, boy.” Zackley leaned back, his chair creaking. “You look even younger than I expected.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Armin could see Levi’s hand ball into a fist. Armin carefully nudged him.

“But he has your vote?” Zackley looked at Hange, then Levi. Hange quickly stepped in.

“I think I speak for all of us, Supreme Commander, when I say that we believe in Armin’s leadership and trust his decisions completely, and have been doing so for quite some while.”

“Huh. I see. And you, Levi?” Zackley turned his eyes to Levi, who returned his gaze impassively.

“Yes,” Levi said, flatly.

“Really?” Zackley raised his eyebrow. “Do you think this – this boy is a worthy replacement for Erwin Smith?”

Shock flooded Armin. He almost collapsed on the spot, the only thing keeping him upright his sheer will.

He didn’t doubt that Levi trusted him, relied on him, believed he’d do a decent job as Commander, even. But a direct comparison like that was too cruel, too blunt. No one could come up to Erwin’s level, no matter how smart, no one would ever be enough to –

“Yes.”

Zackley leaned forward, eyes wide. “You do?”

“Unquestionably.”

Armin made a quiet sound. Zackley briefly stared at him, then at Levi, then leaned back again. “Well. Far be it from me to question the judgement of the Legion’s veterans. I’ll ratify the decision. Keep it quiet for the moment, the red tape will take a while to organise.”

“So I’m – I’ll be Commander?” Armin couldn’t help but ask.

Zackley looked at him again. “Acting Commander, initially. Levi here will serve as your right hand. This is a probationary title, recruit. If I find you don’t do your job adequately, you’ll be back to shovelling horse shit before you can blink.”

“I will fulfill my duty to the best of my abilities and bring glory to humanity, sir!” Armin said, and tacked on a salute for good measure.

Zackley seemed a little taken aback. “Yes. Excellent. I’ll let you know when we can have the official ceremony. At ease, Commander Arlert.”

“Sir!”

“Well…” He looked at them, shaking his head. “Off you go, then.”

Armin was sure he could hear Zackley mutter weirdos just before the door was closed behind them.

***

He lasted until they reached the HQ again.

Then he collapsed. His legs actually gave out, and it took Levi hauling him back to his feet to prevent him from falling. “Did – did that just happen?”

“Toldya,” Hange said, with a wide grin. “Commander Ar-”

“Shut up, four-eyes,” Levi snapped. “We’re supposed to keep this quiet.”

“Oh, really? And since when do you do what Zackley tells you, Levi?”

“No, Levi’s right,” Armin said quickly. “It’s better to keep quiet about this. I want to – to be prepared when everyone finds out. All right?”

“Sure,” Hange said easily.

“Okay,” Armin said. “You go back to your squads. Levi, can you come with me, please?”

Levi fell into step behind him while Hange took off, not saying a word. Armin felt grateful for it. He didn’t quite know what to feel, to be honest.

He went to his room and let Levi in, then closed the door. He leaned against it and breathed out slowly.

“Well,” Levi said. “You didn’t fuck up.”

“Not yet.” Armin looked at him. “Did you know this was going to happen?”

“I suspected. This had been coming a long time. No fucking clue why they waited so long, anyway.”

Armin crossed the room and sat down on the bed, leaning his arms on his knees. The implications were starting to sink in. Sure, he’d been taking charge of the Legion for months now, but he’d always comforted himself with the fact that he was hierarchically pretty low on the ladder. Technically, he’d just been an advisor. But now…

He could feel the responsibility settling on his shoulders, like a cloak made of lead.

He breathed out heavily and ran his hands over his face, then looked up. Levi was still waiting at the door, standing at ease. “Sit down,” Armin said.

Levi pulled out a chair and sat down, gaze focused on Armin.

“I think I need to talk to you,” Armin said slowly. “About Erwin.”

Levi nodded.

Armin tried to gather his thoughts, decide on what to ask first. It was difficult, though. He’d been fascinated by Erwin Smith from the moment he’d first heard of him, and that interest had increased tenfold now he’d essentially taken the man’s place. But he’d never really satisfied his curiosity when it came to Erwin. The Commander had been remote, mysterious, untouchable, and asking anyone close to him had always felt – like he was intruding, being nosy.

But he had to move beyond that. He needed this knowledge.

He tried to pull a thought from the tangle, and finally settled on, “How did he react, when he was made Commander?”

“Relieved, mostly,” Levi said, without a sliver of hesitation.

Armin made a small sound of surprise.

“The situation was different,” Levi said. “Shadis was Commander before him, but he was incompetent. Few things are worse than serving under an incompetent master, especially when the stakes are that high. Erwin becoming Commander meant an end of that, at least.”

“So he was happy?”

“I didn’t say that.” Levi leaned back, arms crossed. “He was – people celebrated, the night he was promoted, but he slipped out as soon as he could. It was just after the Wall was breached, and he’d already realised that humans were involved. He was – worried.”

“Planning?”

“Yes. Trying to find a way to get us through this hellhole of a situation. Seeing potential futures – and they were pretty grim, too. And he didn’t want to talk about it to anyone because he didn’t know who to trust. Except for – ”

“You.”

“Yes.”

For the first time, Levi actually looked a little shaken. Armin suddenly and vividly remembered that contained trembling tension when Levi had broken down, the grief so painfully clear and yet so repressed, and every instinct he had was screaming at him to move away, give Levi some privacy, let him deal with his pain at his own pace.

But he didn’t have time to indulge in sensitivity.

“So how did he feel?” Armin asked, softly.

“Alone. Scared too, I think, but mostly… Afterwards he told me that – ” Levi broke off. His mouth became a thin line and he looked away.

Armin waited.

“Afterwards,” Levi said, in a slightly too-careful tone, “he told me that he was grateful he had me. Someone who kept treating him as the person he was, instead of the Commander. He said it helped.”

Armin looked down at his hands. It felt cruel, blunt, to question Levi like this. The man didn’t cope with his feelings by talking about them, Armin knew that, and he could see the damage every one of his questions was doing to Levi. Dredging up things Levi would much rather keep buried.

And what did it say about Armin, that he knew that and still pushed on?

He shook his head.  “Helped with what?” he asked.

Levi eyed him. “You know what.”

“He was…” Armin frowned. “He got lost in the role. Right?”

“Yes. Becoming inhuman.”

“You mentioned that, once,” Armin said thoughtfully. “That he stopped caring, that he started seeing people as nothing but pawns.”

“He – He didn’t really stop. Caring. He just locked it down.” Levi cleared his throat. “He had to, it was the only way he could function. But he never got rid of that caring completely. It came back to haunt him. Fuck, how it did.”

Armin leaned back, eyes closed. “You see the dead,” he mumbled. “Watching you. Asking you if it was worth it, if they died for nothing.”

“That’s what Erwin used to say too.” Levi paused, lips thinning for a moment before he could continue. “He had nightmares. Especially towards the end. He never talked about them, but – he’d wake up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat, shaking.”

“You were there with him?”

“Often, yes.”

“Could you comfort him?”

“I don’t know. I tried. Simply being there helped, I think. That he could go back to – to reality.” Levi’s lip curled. “It was about the only thing I could do for him.”

“Did you love him?”

“Love?” Levi seemed genuinely surprised. “I suppose I did, yes. I never thought about it.”

Armin watched him for a moment. He didn’t seem that affected, Levi. His voice a little hoarser than usual, the words coming a bit slower, but that was it.

Maybe Armin was wrong, maybe Levi didn’t feel it that much after all. Maybe he had learned to numb his feelings. But he doubted it. Far more likely that he just locked it all down, like he said Erwin used to.

Which meant he did grieve, inconsolably and invisibly, not just for Erwin but for Petra and Eld and Gunther and Oluo, for Mike and Nanaba and Ness and all the others that had died, his friends and comrades and lovers and brothers and sisters…

It was a horrible thought.

“The point is,” Levi said suddenly, “that he felt as scared and alone and worried and even incapable as you do now. But he knew that he was the best man for the job, the only one. He did the best he could.”

“And he died.”

It was out before he could stop it, and he watched the pain hit on Levi’s face, only to be hidden away again after only a second or two. “Yes. But he’d led us to that point. Left us a decent legacy.”

Armin rubbed his face. “It’s a big burden. I don’t know if I can – if I’ll be able to…”

“You can today. And that’s all that matters.”

Armin looked up and gave Levi a grim smile. “Easily said if you don’t have to plan out long-term strategies.”

“True.” Levi shrugged. “I’m not here to do the work for you.”

“You’re just here for the support.” Armin stood up and walked to the window, hands folded behind his back.

“Can I go?” Levi asked behind him.

“No,” Armin said absently. “Not yet.”

The only man for the job. That much was true. He still didn’t really believe he was actually good at this, but he did know, with absolute certainty, that there wasn’t anyone who could this any better than him. He saw things others didn’t, made connections that were invisible to most people. And what kind of coward would recognise their own abilities and then ignore them instead of using them for humanity’s good?

It was far from perfect. But the world was far from perfect. He just had to cope, the best he could. Just like Erwin had done, apparently.

Armin glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Levi asked, disinterestedly.

“Zackley. He had no right to ask you that question. He could’ve phrased it a million different ways but he chose that one because he wanted to goad you.” Armin gave Levi a small smile. “I appreciate you refusing to play his game.”

“It wasn’t a game to me.”

Armin frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I answered honestly.” Levi smiled faintly. “You should know by now that I don’t lie, and especially not to higher-ups.”

“You…”

But words failed him. Armin simply stared at Levi, shaken to his core.

Levi stood up, eyes fixed on Armin. “You’re not Erwin,” he said calmly. “You’ll never be Erwin. And if the choice would have ever been between the two of you, all things being equal, I would’ve chosen him. But Erwin’s dead, and there is no one else alive who can fill his position as well as you do.”

“I – yes, but, if there were someone else, if I…”

Levi shook his head. “I did say that you were made of the same stuff, and that’s becoming clearer every fucking day.”

“I – ”

“It’s a fucking shame he died that early,” Levi said, voice shockingly casual. “He’d seen your potential, had planned on mentoring you if he found the time. But he died, so…” He shrugged. “It fell to me.”

Armin opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say.

He came up blank.

Levi shook his head, as if in amusement. “Can I go now?” he asked, lazily.

“Uh – yes, of course, yes. I need to think.”

“Thought as much. Let me know when you need me.”

“I will, thank you.”

Levi nodded and went to the door.

Armin squeezed his eyes shut. He was trying to erase the images of a world where Erwin had lived, where he wouldn’t have had to figure this out alone, where between Erwin and Levi he could have learned at his own speed, instead of being thrown into deep without any fucking warning.

They’d thought him worthy. Erwin had seen him as a successor. Never in a million years would he have dared to think –

“Armin?”

Armin turned in surprise. Levi was still standing in the doorway, frowning at Armin as he couldn’t quite figure him out.

“What I said about it being a choice between you and him…” Levi said slowly.

“Yes?” Armin asked, mouth dry.

Levi met Armin’s eyes.

“It would have been a close fucking call.”

***

True to their word, Hange stayed quiet about the promotion. Armin on his part made an exception for Eren and Mikasa, who both reacted with such a total lack of surprise at the news that Armin almost felt disappointed. But they did vow not to speak a word about it.

Still, the way these things worked, before long the whole HQ was abuzz with rumours. Armin denied them all, of course, and so did the others, but he could see the way people were watching him, considering, speculating…

The final decision didn’t come a day too soon, in the form of another letter addressed to him by name. This time it was several pages long, and one of those pages consisted almost solely of autographs of a whole score of important people.

It was official now. Black on white, no denying it: Armin Arlert, Commander of the Survey Corps. All that was left now was to announce that decision to the men - which included a whole new challenge to prepare for, one he had lost sight of in all the things that had been happening:

The speech.

“Don’t overstate the danger. Everyone’s aware of it.”

“I know,” Armin said. “But I can’t pretend there’s no danger at all, can I? I need to acknowledge it.”

“I didn’t say that. Just don’t – ow.”

“Sorry,” Armin said quickly. He lightened his touch on Levi’s arm. “I get it, I do. It’s just a hard balance to strike.”

“Err on the side of caution.”

“I will. Turn around.”

Levi turned, baring his back to Armin. Despite himself, Armin winced at the sight of all the welts and bruises. “You’re going to feel those tomorrow,” he said.

“Good,” Levi said, with grim satisfaction.

Armin shook his head and dipped the cloth back in the clean water. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” Levi shuddered as Armin drew the cloth across his back. “Keep it short. And make sure it’s heartfelt, whatever it is you’re saying.”

“That’s what Erwin’s speech was on our graduation, you know. Short, to the point. Blunt. But I liked it.”

“I know.”

Armin looked up in surprise. “You were there?”

“No.” A hint of amusement. “I proofread it for him.”

“Oh.” Armin smiled as he wrung out the cloth over a bowl of clean water. “Odd, isn’t it? How things can change?”

Levi huffed.

 Armin cleaned up the last of the cuts, then put the bowl away. Levi pulled his shirt back on.

“How are the nerves?” Levi asked.

Armin put the bowl down on the table and considered the question. “Surprisingly okay,” he replied.

“Really?”

“It’s sort of...” Armin gave him a wry smile. “Compared to facing you for the first time, speaking to a few dozen people about duty and honour doesn’t seem that daunting.”

Levi huffed in amusement.

“You’ll be there?” Armin asked.

“Yes.”

“Thanks. It helps, you know.”

“I guessed.”

Armin sighed. He ran his hands over his face, then straightened up, looking at himself in the mirror. He still looked like himself. A little scrawny soft-faced child, insignificant compared to his memories of tall, imposing, impressive Erwin.

He winced.

“Still doubts?” Levi asked from behind him.

“Not really,” he said, honestly. “I’m… I’m just not looking forward to dealing with the way people will look at me.”

“The Corps knows you. They don’t give a shit you look like a milkmaid. And fuck everyone else.”

Armin smiled.

Levi showed up next to him. They were almost the same height, and in their uniforms you couldn’t really see much of the muscle and sinew that made the difference between them.

“You’ll do fine,” Levi said.

Their eyes met in the mirror. “I know.”

Levi looked Armin up and down, slowly. Then he nodded and turned on his heel. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Levi went over to his chest of drawers and got out a small package. He unwrapped it. The light caught on the pale green.

“Oh,” Armin said quietly.

“It’s yours now, officially.” Levi raised the chain of office. “It’s been yours in practice for a pretty long time, if you ask me. But I didn’t want to push it on you.”

Armin turned to face Levi and raised his chin. “Put it on.”

Levi frowned. “Shouldn’t you be the one who – ”

“I want you to do it.”

Levi gave him a long look. Then he stepped forward. He carefully turned Armin’s collar up and put the leather thong around his neck. His hands brushed Armin’s cheeks.

He fastened it. Then he stepped back. Armin touched the stone.

“It suits you,” Levi said.

Armin didn’t reply, hand still on the stone and eyes fastened to Levi.

A knock on the door made them both look up. “Yes?” Armin said, not looking away from Levi.

The door opened behind him. “They’re ready for you,” Hange said. “Commander.”

Armin turned decidedly on his heel. Levi fell into step behind him, without needing to be prompted.

Armin’s heart was hammering, but for once, it was about as much excitement as it was fear. It was odd, but he really did feel like he was in the right place. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.

They reached the antechamber. Hange held the door open. Armin went in and immediately went over to the double doors that gave out on the balcony that looked out onto the courtyard. He peeked out.

The whole Corps had gathered below. They were whispering, looking restless.

There were a lot of them.

Armin took a deep breath, looking down at the crowds. All he needed to do was take a few steps forward and he’d be on the platform, for all to see.

He swallowed. “Levi?” he called out.

Levi left Hange behind and came over, taking position at Armin’s side. Armin glanced at him. He looked as calm as usual, but Armin could just spot a ring of bruises around Levi’s wrists.

Levi saw him looking and raised an eyebrow. Armin smiled and turned back to the balcony. He took another deep breath and squared his shoulders, feeling more than seeing Levi’s reassuring presence at his shoulder.

He could do this.

Levi pushed the doors open.

And Armin stepped forward to speak to his Legion.