FicWad

"I wasn't always a SWAT captain."

Eren made a face at the screen, and Levi allowed himself a laugh in response. "Well, nobody has always been in their career," he said matter-of-factly. Levi rolled his eyes.

"Smart ass," he retorted with no real venom. "I've only been working with the LAPD for a few months. Before that, I was in the military."

Levi expected some sort of impact to come with his words. Shock, intrigue - reasonable responses a person might have when finding out, surprise, someone they knew was in the armed forces. Eren certainly gave a notable response, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. Levi mirrored the expression. Was it truly that baffling? What was running through his mind?

"A few months?" Eren finally repeated, eyes wide and inquisitive. Levi nodded slowly, unsure what he was getting at. The brunet shook his head in response. "I thought Hanji said . . . "

He trailed off, staring at Levi as if trying to decode something, perhaps something in his expression or otherwise. "Hanji?" Levi queried. It made sense, now, somewhat. Of course she had said something. She always told people things. He was definitely not a fan, but she never got explicit or spilled anything that was not already general knowledge among his circle. Still . . . "What exactly did she tell you?"

Eren looked suddenly uncertain, as if he had done or said something wrong. Sure, it was not exactly favorable that Hanji had spoken about Levi behind his back, but it was hardly Eren's fault.

"She said . . . " Eren hesitated, looking away, and hugged his pillow to his chest guiltily. Levi waited patiently, not wanting to pressure him. "A year ago? Something like that, you went to Nevada with an old squad, and they all died. But you've only been with the LAPD a few months."

Suddenly, Levi was eternally thankful for Hanji. She had not skimped on the important details, but obscured the rest of the truth. He should have expected no less from his best friend. He sighed slightly, questioning if he was truly ready to share this story. He could just tell Eren that was all, call it a night, and move on with life, not bothering him with unnecessary and burdensome details of his past.

No, that would not do. Eren was an open book to Levi. Now that they were . . . whatever they were . . . he needed to return the favor.

"That isn't the entire truth," Levi said into the stretching silence that had developed during his thinking, and Eren jumped slightly, almost imperceptibly, at the sudden noise. "A year ago, I lost my squad, but not in Nevada. Not even in the United States."

"Your squad," Eren echoed. "Just what military branch were you in? The Marine Corps?"

Levi offered a half-smile. "Bingo. Not a squad in technical terms, really; we were a small special ops team, and we were fighting in the Middle East. I know, big surprise."

Eren laughed in spite of the serious mood, and Levi allowed himself to be amused for that small moment, as well. He supposed it did not have to be all depression and sob stories and pity parties. It had been an entire year, after all.

"Where were you stationed?" Eren asked.

"I'm under lock and key," Levi said, shaking his head. "Can't tell that kind of information. I honestly shouldn't be telling you any of this," he added, lowering his voice, "but, well . . . I suppose you've a right to know."

"You don't have to tell me if you're not sure about it," Eren told him immediately, and though Levi was not even remotely worried about the emotional vulnerability aspect of things, he appreciated the sentiment. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and leaned back in his chair.

"It isn't a problem," he replied honestly. "I want to tell you."

Eren relaxed a little at that, and shifted on the bed, presumably getting into a more comfortable position. Levi's gaze drifted away from the screen to his keyboard, then to his laced fingers that were resting in his lap. How to begin something like this? Where would he start? Subconsciously, he rubbed at his wrists, taking and releasing a deep breath. Wherever he started, it couldn't be from silence.

"We were on a special mission," he started, choosing his words carefully, mindful of his oath, "taking down what was assumed to be a leader of the opposition."

"What was assumed to be?" Eren was already at full attention, pillow clutched close and eyes sparkling with intrigue. It was rather cute, like a child listening to a bedtime story. Levi wished it was as lighthearted as that.

"We never found out if the intel was correct. Whether it was nothing more than a trap, or whether he truly was there. Our target could have been in that building, or he could have been a million miles away. It made no difference. It was a setup." Eren had no response to that. "Whatever the case, he was later found and executed, so that isn't important."

He could see the bob of Eren's throat as he swallowed, and wondered if he was making the kid uncomfortable. He perished the thought. If Eren was uncomfortable, he would tell Levi, whether outright or via nonverbal cues, or even find a reason to cut the story short - not that Eren would do something so mean as the last one. Levi took his eyes off the screen once more when the brunet did not offer any commentary. He had a feeling he would not, at this point, unless prompted.

"They were my family. My uncle - he was a drill sergeant, once. Trained me and my siblings. They were there, too. I wasn't related by blood to them, of course, they wouldn't put us together if we were, but we had grown up together. They meant a lot to me."

Levi realized it was getting a little personal, and cleared his throat, putting himself back on track.

"We broke into the building." He could see it, in his mind's eye; it muddled with his most recent mission, but he could see the desolate wasteland around him, could see the distinct figures of his teammates. "It was all running quite smoothly. As long as we kept our pace, we would be all right.

"We get inside, we take a few out, and we're on our way to meet Hanji's team." Eren seemed surprised by that tidbit, as if he had not considered that Hanji was also involved. "It was so empty. After the first few people, there was nothing. No sound, no life. We knew something was wrong, but we couldn't go back and leave the others alone there. We'd get them killed, and we'd get executed for treason."

Levi sighed then. He was sighing a lot that day, he realized. He expected he would fulfill his sigh quota for the next few years by the end of his story.

"Looking back, we should have turned tail and run. The alternative wasn't much better. They dropped like flies. Someone snuck up on us, someone who expected us. Our intel had set us up. The guy knocked us out, and I woke up in a cell."

Eren made a sound, something distressed. It was odd to Levi, when he glanced back at the screen and saw how Eren had seemed to shrink, curling in tighter on himself, fists clenched in the pillow. Odd how emotional the Alaskan seemed in comparison to the numbness Levi felt. He had lived the reality dozens of times, had watched it happen every night for months. He supposed the lack of feeling was a trained response.

Levi realized he must have been quiet for a while, as Eren said in a trembling whisper, "What then?"

What then? What always happened when high-ranking militia were captured by the enemy? He wanted to snark back, but refrained. Eren did not need to know all the gory details. He did not need to know how Levi had been strung up, sometimes hanging by his wrists from the ceiling, sometimes chained down to the wall, wrists never getting a chance to recuperate.

Did not need to know that Kenny's corpse had been dragged into his cell so he could not get a breath of fresh air, so he had to watch the asshole rot, bloating and changing color and falling apart, so he was forced to watch and listen as rats came out from the woodwork and feasted on his remains.

Did not need to know that Farlan was across the hall from him, at first. How Levi had seen him beaten bloody, fingers chopped off, limbs broken. How Farlan had not given in once, not even when he had a lead pipe taken to his body over and over and over and over in their pursuit for information, to the point that he stopped moving altogether.

Did not need to know that after Farlan, Isabela had been placed in the cell across the hall. That Levi had been forced to watch as dozens of terrorists came and went over weeks, as they used and abused her, took their turns with her, not even doing it for the information. That he had watched as, with tears running down her face, she struggled and screamed and, as they wore down at her spirit, cried for her brothers to save her. That after she was little more than an empty husk, a toy for them, he had watched them slit her throat like a pig at a slaughterhouse.

Did not need to know that after they were done with his family, they came for Levi. Did not need to know the ways they beat him, broke him, used him, scarred him. Not only the beatings, but the sensory deprivation, the waterboarding, the starvation, the hands on his body -

"Levi."

A rather embarrassingly pathetic noise issued from Levi's throat as Eren's voice jerked him to the present, and immediately he rubbed at his face, dry-washing away the emotions that threatened to surface. It had been a year, and he had been through the best counseling the States had to offer. Levi let out a slow, shuddering breath, finally removing his hands. It was natural to cry, he chided himself gently, but then again, he hardly wanted to do that in front of Eren.

Said boy was staring at him with unconcealed concern, looking almost a little frightened. Levi cleared his throat. "Isabel and Farlan died while in captivity. Squad Zoe reported that we were missing, and came back as soon as possible to retrieve us, though unfortunately that 'soon' wasn't until weeks later.

"Admittedly, I . . . was not in the best shape. Erwin was the one to find me. Oh - you don't know Erwin. He resigned shortly after that mission, probably out of guilt. I was discharged and put through intense counseling and therapy."

It was getting easier to speak again. He could breathe easily once more, though his hands touched at his wrists again, a self-soothing motion. Eren seemed to notice by the way his eyes subtly flicked down and back up, but he said nothing.

"While I was busy, Erwin found a position at the LAPD. I was struggling to find a job. I had no skills outside of battle, so he offered me a spot there. Much less stress, still doing what I know, and a valuable asset to the department. Little later, Hanji drops out too, and joins us there. Now, I'm here."

There was another silence. Levi had no more to say, and Eren seemed to be fumbling for words, opening his mouth a few times and always shutting it right after. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sorry."

Surprised, Levi automatically asked, "What for?"

Eren seemed doubly surprised that Levi had such a question. "For - for all that happening to you. And . . . and because I don't really know what to say . . . "

"Oh," Levi said dumbly. Was he really worried about that? Levi did not spill the beans like that for consolation, only because he felt it was important for Eren to know. He shook his head, cracking a smile. "Don't worry about it, kid. It just feels good to get it off my chest."

And it did. He felt a little shaky, a little vulnerable, but light. Eren was there, he was safe. It was ancient history. Everything would be quite alright.

Eren smiled as well, and the sight of such a precious thing made Levi's heart flutter. "Then I'm happy you told me."

They spent the rest of the night mostly quiet, with small chatter here and there, until Eren fell asleep. Levi, a warm fondness spreading in his chest, disconnected and followed suit.

.-.-.-.-.

A countdown in a monotone. A deep voice that sent pleasing shivers up his spine and callused hands on his body. His mother's honey eyes as she spat hurtful things at him and his father's glasses glinting in the light as blood dripped onto the floor. A confusing mess of horror and desire, of desperation and need. Those rough hands moved from his chest to the waistband of his jeans, and silver eyes stared into his soul.

"Three. Two. One."

Eren awoke with a jolt, a soft whimper as loud as a foghorn in the otherwise silent house. His heavy, panicked breaths calmed with a little time, and he willed his rapidly beating heart to do the same.

The dream had been recurring, not every night, but semi-often since the first. His dead mother always tried to kill him. Levi always saved him. Levi always assisted his father's suicide. Eren always awoke with lips tingling from a phantom kiss and fear sharp in his heart. Every night, dream Levi got handsier, and it was making things even scarier and more confusing as his mind and body gave differing responses, but Eren did not cry out or weep anymore when the nightmare came back.

His heart still raced, though, and the dread did not fade. He wished he knew what the dream meant. He wished his parents would just stay dead. He wished his mind would stop using his - his crush? His significant other? Whatever Levi was - to carry out the sick acts.

Anxiety still high despite the subsiding panic, Eren fumbled on the nightstand for his phone, and checked the time. Six thirty in the morning. He started to tell himself it was far too early to call Levi until he remembered the time difference. Seven thirty was a reasonable time for an officer to wake up, right? He had to go to work fairly early, Eren thought. Suddenly he could not remember anything about Levi's work schedule for the life of him.

It took effort to stop from psyching himself out. After a few moments of anxious debate, Eren tapped out the memorized number and held the phone to his ear. It rang, and rang, and rang, and . . .

Beep. "Please leave your message for: Nine Zero Nine, Six Four - "

Eren hung up on the uncomfortably robotic voice and its strangely placed pauses, slumping and letting his hand fall to his side. It was wishful, of course, to think Levi would be awake. Or perhaps he was awake, but ignoring him? It was a stupid thought, he knew it, but it persisted. He should just go back to sleep. He was being dumb.

A noise blared, making him yelp in surprise, and it took him a much too long moment to realize it was his ringtone. Heart pounding, he scrambled to answer it, holding the device up to his ear once more. "Hi," he greeted breathlessly.

"Are you okay?" came Levi's worried voice through the speaker. "I just got out of the shower, I dried off as fast as I could."

Oh. The shower. Right. Eren felt beyond stupid, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Showering, like normal human beings did before work. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I-It was nothing," he stammered, guilt spreading through his chest and trying to close off his throat. "Bad dream. I called on impulse, I guess."

It was not a lie, and Eren felt worse about that. Why bother Levi during his busy schedule? What did he expect would happen? A long therapy session discussing and interpreting a persistent nightmare? Consolation and drying of his tears?

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Levi's voice startled him out of that train of thought, so pressing and borderline toxic in its implications that it scared him. Eren shook his head, chiding himself. He should not be thinking like that. Levi cared about him and wanted to help. Eren was allowed to ask for said help.

"There's . . . " Not much to talk about? That was a lie. Instead, he settled on, "It's weird. I just kind of . . . I don't know."

The anxiety was returning. What was he doing? What was he saying? This was a waste of both of their time. Eren fought against a shaky sigh and shook his head once more, trying to clear it. This was stupid. Levi needed to take care of his own shit and Eren was just getting in the way with his pathetic indecisiveness.

"It's okay," Levi said, breaking Eren's reverie once more. "I'm not really sure what to do in that case, but we can talk while I get ready for work. If that'll help, I mean. If you want."

Surprised, Eren was silent for a few moments. Levi had a way of blocking out all the awful things the mean little voice in his head said, of proving that asshole wrong and making Eren feel all soft and warm inside with his consideration.

"I'd like that."

It baffled him. Why would Levi go so out of his way to help Eren? He was just some basket case that shoved his affection on him and hinged his life on whether Levi liked him back. But somehow . . . somehow he did, unless it was just some lie to make him feel better. But what reason did he have to lie? He lived thousands of miles away. If he wanted, he could cut off contact completely and move on with his life. Not to mention the things he had confided in Eren about that the younger felt he likely did not often discuss with others.

"Levi?"

He had not realized Levi was talking, and upon interrupting him, felt guilt spike once more, but Levi only gave an idle, "Hm?"

"What are we?"

There was a pause, and Eren got antsy, weaving his his fingers through his hair and tugging in anticipation.

"I don't know. Something. We like each other, don't we?" There was a softness in his voice, and a warmth spreading through Eren's chest. "Dating, if you'd like."

If he'd like? God, he would love. "Does that make us boyfriends?" Eren asked, unthinking, and then smacked a hand over his mouth as if it made any real difference. Levi let out a chuckle from the other end, and there was a rustling noise as he presumably picked up the phone and set it down in another location.

"I would like that," Levi echoed, a sort of tenderness in his tone that Eren had never heard before, and it made him melt. "Makes me feel like a highschooler again, but who cares?"

Eren laughed, a noise that was a mix between nervous and pleased. Boyfriends. Highschoolers indeed. Levi was his boyfriend. Fuck, that was cute.

"I need to head out. Text me if you need anything, alright?"

And just like that, there was despair. Eren fought it back determinedly, closing his eyes and forcing a smile as his chest threatened to cave in and his voice tried to crack. Thankfully, neither of those things happened when he responded. "I'll be fine. Have a good day at work."

Levi snorted at that. "A day of paperwork, yes. My favorite." A pause, and then a hesitant tone. "I . . . " He seemed to struggle with words for a second, and Eren knew what he was trying to say - what he did not want to say. Finally, Levi settled on, "Be safe, Eren," and just like that, Eren's heart sank.

"Yeah," he said dumbly, mouth dry, "you too."

.-.-.-.-.

Levi tapped his pen against the folder laying on his desk rapidly, absently, as he stared unseeingly at the computer screen in front of him. It was important information, he knew, but fuck if he cared. He could not focus for the life of him. Eren overwhelmed his thoughts and conquered his mind, an all-encompassing whisper, a name that elicited both fondness and concern.

It would be so much easier if Eren was there. With him, in California, close at hand and easy to check up on, where Levi knew he would be safe. He knew Eren wouldn't go for it, though. He had a house to watch and friends to wait for.

Friends. Levi barely withheld a scoff in the quiet office. What a load of bullshit. What kind of friends left one of their own to suffer like that, especially one with such strong demons, without hardly ever checking up on him? Anyone would suffer in Eren's position. Hell, Levi did not think even he could handle it - with darkness brought bad things, bad thoughts Levi did not know if he could shut out in such an environment. To think they had subjected Eren to that . . .

And then his phone buzzed.

Eren: levh

Eren: levu*

Eren: fcuk it

Eren rarely had typos unless something was wrong. A meltdown? Not unlikely. Cold dread settled in his stomach. Eyebrows creasing in concern, Levi tapped out a quick response.

[What's wrong?/]

He saw the chat bubble appear, disappear, and repeat a few times before finally a response came through.

Eren: bad

Eren: itd all bad

Levi didn't hesitate, workplace be damned. He tapped the call button and brought the phone up to his ear. He didn't care - Eren was more important than his shitty job.

It took several rings before Eren picked up, enough rings that Levi could feel the fear settle in as memories of last time crept into his thoughts, but the sound of Eren picking up soothed him somewhat. What was not so soothing was the crackly sound of rapid breathing, and small, periodic sniffles.

"Eren," Levi managed in the same breath as a relieved sigh. It was grounding, having him there, even if he was distressed. "What's wrong? What's bothering you?"

"I - I don't . . . " He took a few more breaths, desperate sounding, like a man starved for air. His voice trembled as he spoke and Levi hoped it was from nothing worse than general stress. "It's just . . . all bad. Low. It all hurts."

"Hurts?" Levi queried. He wished he hadn't after hearing a sharp, staticky exhale.

"In my chest." It seemed to be such a great effort for him to speak, and Levi wanted to applaud him on the effort, praise him for even answering a call like this, but there was no way to work it in. "H-Hard to breathe."

"What can I do?" The panic was contagious. Eren was in such a low, lower than Levi had ever witnessed, and he had no clue what to do. He was not trained for this.

"I don't know," Eren said, a pathetic whimper. Then, somehow even more upset, he managed, "Fuck, Levi, I c-can't - I want to die - "

"No!" was Levi's instinctual response, and he would have been embarrassed by the strangled way he said it if it weren't for the panic rising in his chest, whether in response to Eren's urge or simply a contagious state he was not sure, and did not care. "I just . . . don't. I'm coming to you. Just - just stay there. Please."

The words all tumbled out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying, and despite the lack of preparation he knew it was true. He was coming. It was so stupid to think Eren could do this alone. So many people couldn't. Depression and suicide rates skyrocket during the months of darkness. So many people, so many from so many backgrounds, from the lowest of the low to the biggest optimist, all taken by the night.

"You shouldn't . . . "

But Levi was already shutting down his computer and throwing on his jacket. "Stay there," he repeated, too much fear in his heart to be ashamed of the way he stammered. "Just - God, Eren, don't do anything stupid and stay there."

A choked noise answered him, and Levi wanted to echo the sound, but refrained but doing so. He grabbed his cane from its spot against the desk. "I-It's hard, Levi - "

"I know," Levi said, but he didn't. He had no idea. Even when he had lost everyone he loved, he had never been through that. He had never wanted to take his own life. All he knew was that Eren was suffering and that he should have done this a long, long time ago. "Just - just text me your address. And stay in your room. Don't go in the kitchen. Or the bathroom."

Static, a harsh breath. "I'll try," Eren promised shakily.

Levi fumbled with his keys and locked his office door. The trek to Erwin's office was so much longer than it used to be with his lame leg, and he used that time to talk to Eren and program his address into his GPS. Stupid words, meaningless ones, tumbled from his lips, and he found himself thankful that the office was relatively empty this time of day - not that he would have stopped if it were bustling.

He was forced to hang up when he arrived at the door, and the dread in his stomach only got worse. His usually rapid knocks on the wooden door became frantic, and he stumbled when Erwin opened the door unexpectedly, looking surprised.

"Levi?"

"I need a private jet. Now."

Five hours. Five fucking hours. Five entire goddamn hours for him to get to Eren and make sure he did not do anything do himself. Five hours, and no service on the fucking jet. All he could do was fret and possibly cry and wait. Time had never crawled so slowly.

Erwin, after hearing more of the story, had arranged for a cab to wait for Levi right outside of the private port. For as much as they fought, for as harsh and critical as Erwin could be, for as jumbled as his priorities could get, he never failed to get Levi anything he needed. Whether it was genuine care or the guilt speaking, it was another case where Levi did not know and definitely did not care. All he cared about right now was getting to Eren.

It was freezing in Barrow, so cold Levi's leg instantly went stiff and screamed at him with every step. He did not care. He nearly fell when he moved from the warmth of the cab to the chill of outside, and the cold of the snow underfoot seeped through his shoes and shot straight up his legs, locking up his muscles and forcing him to hobble rather pathetically up to the front door, the scene only lit by a dim street light.

The house was huge, and idly, Levi remembered Eren lived with multiple people. It only elicited bitterness through the panic and adrenaline. Those multiple people abandoned him to this fate, this darkness that was already driving Levi mad only a few minutes in.

He could not feel his hand as he curled it up into a fist and pounded on the door, other hand attacking the doorbell. When no response came, the dread only increased, to the point that he, a war veteran, could feel tears prickling behind his eyes. He leaned on his cane and kicked the door with his good foot. It took another two kicks before he got through the dead bolt, and the frame of the door was too splintered to lock it again.

The inside was definitely warmer than the outside, though still much colder than Californian-born Levi was used to. He shut the door behind him and, in a voice trembling either from the cold or emotion (likely both), called out.

"Eren!"

No response. He spotted a darkened hallway - the entire house was dark, he noted - and limped over to it, calling out for Eren once more. There was a door cracked at the end of the hall, and a soft yellow light filtered through, making its thin trail across the floor and onto the opposite wall. He pushed it open with a hoarse call.

"Eren?"

There he was. Levi's breath was stolen in an instant. He never could have predicted how much more stunning Eren was in person - that beautiful caramel skin, the fluffy brown hair, those long lashes that brushed his cheeks . . . and the eyes that would never open again.

Pills were scattered all over the floor, three bottles laying nearby, and a wicked-looking blade was still clutched loosely in his fingers. Levi fell to his knees next to him, immediately checking for breathing, but he knew it was futile. Eren was long gone, his face pale in contrast to the dark tan Levi had always loved, lips and fingers blue, cold in his arms. Blood had stopped running from the deep lacerations on his arms a long time ago.

A tear fell on Eren's face, and it took too long for Levi to realize it was his own. This was wrong, all wrong! This was not how it was supposed to go!

He gathered the freezing corpse in his arms, shaking hands falling to that mop of chocolate hair, and it was every bit as soft as he had imagined. He was going to find Eren on time, alive. They would fall into each other's arms, and he would be so warm, so cuddleable. The tears would dry from those breathtaking jade eyes and those pretty lips would meet his own in desperation, in relief, and those delicate hands would clasp in his own. He would hear his name in that gentle voice for the first time.

Levi cupped a cold cheek, thumb tracing over one of the dried tear trails under the forever closed eyes. He hovered close to Eren's face, hesitating, his breath warming the skin ever so slightly. Finally, he changed course, and planted a tender kiss on Eren's forehead. A hello, a farewell. A declaration of love far too late.

He glanced around the bedroom, familiar from the dozens, possibly hundreds of Skype calls. Levi was gentle in setting Eren back down, and stepped over to the desk. His laptop was still on, and a screencap of his own face, taken straight from one of their calls, stared back up at him, a soft smile on his face. There was a document open in Word. Levi could not bring himself to read it.

Lying under a lamp, the only light on in the room, was a small plastic container with a post-it note on the lid. Labeled on the side was a name - Manten. Inside, on a thin twig, sat a pretty monarch butterfly, its fresh, still crumpled wings waving slowly in what almost seemed to be a greeting. After what felt like years watching the butterfly, Levi finally made himself glance at the sticky note.

He read it. And re-read it. Again. His hand went to his mouth, and yet another tear fell.

He'll probably come out in a little bit. Take care of him, Levi.

Eren had an untidy scrawl. Was that just a doctor thing? Dentist, he corrected himself. The wings kept waving, circulating blood, as Levi's eyes glued to the last line.

I love you.

.-.-.-.-.

if you skipped for spoilers: graphic descriptions of death, torture, and suicide.

the end, and thank you so much for reading.