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Assistant: Title: The Means
        Author: calacreda calacreda 
        Chapter: 10/16 
        Summary: 'He hears him say “Do not tell a soul, Levi” and wants to laugh. Tell anyone? To what end? So that others have the images that Levi now has running through his head; of grabbing hands and harness marks, hard words and soft lips, of lies upon lies upon lies in a desperate attempt to get to the truth?'Levi begins to notice Erwin leaving HQ alone and not returning until the dead of night. Slow-burn, pre-show Eruri.
        Contents: Chapter 10: The Crack In The Courtyard
    

    


      
        
          Y’all: Erwin PLEASE go to therapy king I’m begging you.Erwin: No time. Based ment. I’m glad I’m garnering a lot of sympathy for Erwin. He might be a lil sociopathic, but he is not a monster and I’m trying to convey that. He does get a bit of attempted help in this one. Thanks for your reviews, they mean so much to me! I had fun writing this one xx  
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    “You have the rest of the day to prepare. Visit your families, go to town, do what you must do. Tomorrow we make our way to Shiganshina. And then, the Fifty-Third Scouting Expedition begins. Make sure you are ready. It will be a long two weeks beyond the Walls, and that’s if everything goes according to plan.” Shadis sounds grave, but thankfully unshaking, addressing the Scouts over breakfast the following morning. 
   Visit your families. Enjoy the fair. Do what you must do. 
  ‘Get your affairs in order’, is what he means. The atmosphere is incendiary. Several recruits blanch a bone-white. Squadmates exchange nervous glances. There are some soldiers staring straight ahead, unblinking, leaving their minds for a minute so as not to make a fool of themselves. Levi sits opposite Hange; the only person in the mess to look actively excited at the prospect. Moblit, sitting beside them, fights down the nervous wobble of his lips.  The squad leaders look a little on edge, too, although they are doing better at hiding it. Most of them likely already knew this announcement was coming, maybe even knew the exact wording ahead of time. Gershin swallows hard, but looks stern. At the far end of the table, Erwin’s steely gaze brims with something like anticipation.  Levi feels apprehension of his own, but knows it won’t break the surface. It’s not fear for himself, more a grim expectation of more loss, more guilt, more lives he’s going to watch end. It can’t be helped. He’s not a deserter, even if he does think the goal of establishing a permanent outpost is ambitious at best and doomed at worst. He’ll go visit the kids, take them some more clothes, some meat he’s stashed from dinner because they splurge before a big expedition and he doesn’t like the feel of it between his teeth. If he doesn’t come back, he hopes they’re grown enough to make it on their own.  Despite having the day off, most squads convene to train for a bit in a last-ditch attempt to cram as much preparation into their bodies as possible. It feels a little desperate to Levi, as he swings round the buildings in a formation he could navigate in his sleep. The rest of the squad is equally well-practised, even Hallie seems confident in her movements, but there is still that nervous energy, that jumpy tension stringing between them, that makes everyone seem more on edge than ever. “Keep to your lines, and listen for my orders. If we deploy the diversion and attack formations correctly, there should be no need for panic, or catastrophe, once we get out there. Go and rest, spend the evening with friends. You have done well. I will see you tomorrow morning.” Erwin says as they stand and sweat in the rain below the looming wooden figure of a titan target. Keiji is paying attention for once. Lauda looks like she already has her evening planned, glancing over at the barracks, keen to be dismissed. Levi goes to leave with the group, but the way Erwin is looking at him makes him think he wants to speak with him alone. “What will you do tonight, Levi?” “I don’t know. I gotta run an errand, but I’ll probably just...clean.” Erwin laughs.  With him not at him. “Alright. Whatever keeps you calm.” “Tch. I’m always calm.” Erwin looks better than he has in months. The bags under his eyes have receded, his hair is freshly washed, and there is a sort of glow under his skin; eating, exercising and resting properly, Levi guesses. Last night was the first time in a while he left the compound for Sina, and the lessened weight of his other duties has made him strong and bright again. He looks different than he did last night, even. It’s absurd that the rain, the prospect of a dangerous mission, could imbue him with such vitality. “What about you?” He asks without knowing why.  “I will have my pre-expedition meeting with Shadis and the other captains. Then I will make some personal preparations. The men usually have a bonfire before big missions like this; out in the courtyard, if the weather is good. They burn things, drink and talk, sometimes cook food over the flames. It’s ritualistic, ceremonial, even. You should join us, if the cleaning can spare you.” The last time Levi received an invitation to socialise, he wanted to laugh. Go to the tavern with Erwin and his friends? He thought it was supposed to be his  day off. No one has asked him anywhere else since, and it figures. If this is to be his last free night alive, his last chance to soak in these people he used to hate, then perhaps he should take it. He likes being alone, but cleaning his room until dawn while everyone else bonds over a bonfire sounds less appealing than it normally would.  
   Huh. Must be all Erwin’s b@llsh@t about camaraderie finally getting through to me. 
 “Maybe.” He says, and leaves his captain smiling.  He cleans his gear with care. It’s spotless already - it always is - but he wants to make sure it’s oiled properly. The stuff they used as grease Underground was cheap, usually stolen, often not meant for ODM mechanics. This stuff is smooth and slippery and smells cleaner somehow. His hands don’t shake. His gaze is steady. He considers that it is the first mission that has felt important since his first. The smaller ones in between brought him no fear or apprehension, just frustration at having to follow orders. Now, as before, he feels invested, only the first time it was because his friends were with him, and he had a mission all of his own to accomplish. This time, as opposed to trying to kill Erwin, he will do whatever he can to keep him alive. Levi doesn’t believe in the b@llsh@t about an afterlife, but sometimes he daydreams that there is one, and Farlan and Isabel have not dissolved into nothing, but instead watch him. They would be disappointed, he thinks, to see him turn so quickly, so completely. They swore to kill a man, it was their whole reason for risking the climb, the expedition. Now, he protects that man, follows him, obeys his orders and tends to his wounds. He listens to his woes and his wisdom, worries about his dignity, takes on his trust and offers his own in exchange. He thinks about his mouth and his hands, thinks about them on his own skin, wants his attention and his touch. He’s...taken with him. He’s grown weak. He’s grown dependent. Erwin all but killed Levi’s family and in return Levi has lashed himself to him with a chord so tight and sturdy he sometimes worries he will never be free from it. He has a headache. A storm must be brewing. He thinks it’s stupid to start an expedition in the rain after what happened before, but Erwin seems to know better. The storm will occur on the safest leg of the mission - when they are passing through towns with plenty of grapple points and the formation is closer together - and then it will have passed by the most difficult stretch, timing the mild weather perfectly. Levi doesn’t understand how they know what the sky will do. Perhaps if you grow up Above you develop a sense for these things.  The pressure builds against his temples and puts him in a bad mood. He decides to find some peace and quiet before heading into town with the bundle of belongings he’s gathered for the kids. While he lies in his bunk, staring up at the bed above, he wonders how much more empty the room will be on their return. He has a sudden image, almost comical, of him eating alone in the mess, having all of the hot water to himself in the bathhouse, sitting in the shade of the silent training forest; the only Scout left standing. 000 Erwin makes time after lunch to go and talk to Hange. He’s been in meetings all morning, signing off paperwork and preparing for the worst since dawn, and so in the lull of early afternoon, he seeks them out in their dungeon-turned-lab. They are up to their elbow in what looks to be a deer. “I hope you didn’t kill that yourself, the men will be furious if you’ve deprived them of good meat.” “Of course not! Such a precious creature - I found it in the forest with a hole ripped in its stomach. Wolves, I think, or else someone’s dog went rogue. Still, pity to waste it!” The smell is almost unbearable. Erwin straightens his posture and endures. “I’ve come about our discussion last month.” Hange stops what they’re doing to peer at him. They then slowly extract their arm from the deer carcass. It makes a crude squelching sound. “Have you made up your mind, then?” “Yes. I think it would be beneficial to learn more about the enemy. The titan-enemy, that is. If your theory is correct then nighttime expeditions may incur fewer casualties.” Hange wipes their arm off on a rag and looks at him curiously.  “Have you spoken to Shadis?” “No.”  “So this is a  secret  undercover operation?” They sound excited. Erwin moves to do pre-emptive damage control. “No. It is not an operation. I am simply giving you permission to use the equipment we sourced for you, and Berner, if he is willing, to test out your theories once we have established the outpost. It is nothing nefarious, and you are to exercise restraint, caution and discretion.” “‘Discretion’ - so Shadis still knows nothing?” “I think it is better if he does not. You have permission to carry out experiments, and this is just an extension of that permission.” Shadis would never allow Hange to get as close to titans as they would like, but their hypotheses are compelling, and Erwin thinks getting more intel on the enemy is never a bad thing. Shadis’ main focus as Commander is kill counts and land reclaimed, rather than truths uncovered, and he wouldn’t risk losing a potentially brilliant squad leader in the name of science. Erwin knows Hange, has known them for years. They can be careless when they’re lost in their head, but there is a reason they have survived this far: they’re a good soldier and they’re smarter than most people Erwin has ever met. He trusts them enough to take the risk.  “Easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?” They say, pushing their goggles up into their hair. There is a smudge of either bile or grease on their cheekbone. “Certainly. Do what you need to do, but please keep yourself in one piece.” If Shadis finds out he has been giving out covert orders, he will be furious. Shadis is a proud man, an insecure one, and such a blatant questioning of his ultimate authority would be poorly received. It might even ruin Erwin’s chances of becoming his successor.  Hange will have arrived at this conclusion. They nod at him. “Thanks, Erwin. There’s lots I’d like to try and observe in their behaviour, and this is the perfect opportunity. I won’t let you down.” He smiles. “If you survive, you will be made a squad leader upon our return.” They beam at him, throwing themselves down into a rickety wooden chair behind their unbelievably cluttered desk, knocking over an empty beaker in the process. “Really? Sounds fun. So I get some young un’s to boss about?” “You will be responsible for a squad of recruits, yes. It also means a lot more meetings, longer working nights and more public appearances. And Shadis has already commented on your personal appearance before.” Hange blows a flyaway lock of hair out of their face and smirks up at him. “That guy is too uptight. I’m no oil painting, he should accept that. Can’t he leave the charming of the nobles to you? You actually  do  look like an oil painting.” He raises an eyebrow and smirks back at them. “I’m flattered.” Hange snorts. “One of those prissy, awkward paintings they put up in banquet halls in the Capital. You know, where the men wear loads of jewellery and look like they’ve got a stick up their ass for all eternity?” Erwin laughs lightly at their teasing. “Ah, yes I’m familiar with such works. I suppose you have a point.” Hange’s smirk goes a little sad. They are fond of each other, he thinks with grim finality. Regardless of what it would do to his career, his primary concern for Hange’s safety in their experiments is a personal one. They are also just a little too knowing. They’re sharp. They know exactly how successful he has been at raising funds for this expedition, and have probably guessed at his method. It makes Erwin feel ashamed.  “Have you thought more about...my proposal?” Hange says cautiously, chin tilted down against their chest. “It cannot be done. Shadis will never sign it off, and there is no way of doing it under his nose.” Hange slumps further down in their chair. “Fine. I’ll wait. When you’re commander,  you’ll  let me do it, right?” “We shall have to survive that far.” “Alright, I get it. No pets.” “Good. I’m only allowing you extra rein because I trust you to be responsible, and I believe in your work. Please don’t overdo it.” They hop back onto their feet with surprising dexterity. “I wouldn’t  dream  of it, Erwin!” He nods. “Bring few enough supplies to store them in Supply Cart W4. Aside from Moblit and myself, nobody else should know.” “Understood.” They say, mock-saluting. “I’ll see you tonight, Hange.”  “Yes! Nothing to start off a long excursion quite like a hangover! How are you feeling, Erwin?” “Excuse me?” He stops halfway to the door. “How are you feeling? You’ve been working harder than ever, I just thought maybe you need something to help you sleep.” They look sincere, leaning against the table, legs crossed at the ankle, studying Erwin. He pushes his shoulders back a little. “I appreciate your concern. I’m quite well, I assure you.” “Because, if you  were  feeling burnt out, I could help, you know?” They move their hands rather erratically as they talk, swatting invisible flies, scribbling equations in the air. Hange seems perpetually in motion. In truth, Erwin would love to borrow some of their energy. “Even if it was just...you know...talking. We used to talk a lot, you and I. Before things got too real.” Erwin smiles, sighs through his nose, looks around their lab as if to assess visually how they got here, how they are still standing, how far they have to go. “My duties have made me impersonal.” “No,  no,  I didn’t mean it like that - I mean you’re always so busy I miss getting to spend time together, that’s all. It’s silly, and selfish, but no one functions well alone, you know? Even you need something to rely on.” They are trying to reach out to him. Has he really lost his way? He thought he was handling things well, thought his demeanour was impenetrable, but Hange, with their quick eyes and quicker mind sees distress in him. And of course they would; they’ve been friends for years.  
   Am I distressed? Do I need someone to talk to? 
 He’s concerned that if he starts talking he won’t be able to stop, and the tower he’s been building painfully and carefully, brick by brick, will be shaken loose and come crashing down around him. The mission is all that matters. He can untangle the mess of his mind if he makes it back alive. “Thank you.” He says sincerely. “I regret my absence. It will be nice, at least for tonight, to have the company of you and the others.” Hange watches him for a long moment, the mirth in their gaze more hopeless than celebratory, like you might look at a particularly troublesome child. They amble over to him and drop a hand on his shoulder. He is ashamed that the physical contact, given easily and with nothing but affection behind it, shocks him. He keeps it from his face. “Tonight, then. And after: the Big Day.”  He looks at them softly, to convey his gratitude. They lift their hand away, head for the door. “I’m going to get something to eat, want to come?” He has already eaten, but nods and follows them anyway. “Thanks for bringing me this good news, Erwin! I can hardly  wait!”  000 The day passes in a blur, rife with manic energy, like a horse breaking into a gallop on the final stretch. After watching Hange eat their lunch (messily, and taking frequent breaks to talk at him) he has another meeting with Shadis and a few other squad leaders. He notices them taking it in turns to draw their eyes over each other: counting, commemorating, considering who will vanish from the table. There is still work to be done. He writes letters of personal gratitude to send to the nobles backing the missions. He checks and re-checks the formation plans, switches round a veteran-cadet pairing, then decides against the change and scribbles it out again. He lifts the floorboard and slides his father’s books further into the space underneath, tucking them against the foundation of the wall, in the hope that if he doesn’t return, when they are eventually found, they can no longer harm anyone connected to him. He tilts the portrait of his family away from the sun. With no one to close the curtains while the room is empty, he doesn’t want it to bleach. He cannot sit still; standing in the middle of writing a letter to pace as he runs through the supply checklist once more, straightening his collar, his cuffs, sitting down again, distracted by every noise from outside. It is normal to be on edge before an expedition, but this feels different. This feels like, more than ever, he has something to prove, and the success of the mission will reflect on him.  In the end, he knows he has planned everything perfectly. You cannot prepare for the unexpected, and it is foolish of him to waste his time trying. It is the soldiers, ultimately, who will decide the success of this mission, and if fate is generous enough to deal a fair hand when they leave Wall Maria. He should be focused on his troops, not his paperwork. So he stands, puts on his jacket, and glances outside at the rain; sheeting down through the sunlight, fresh and cleansing, putting a damper on the heat. He will make the rounds and then call it a day. Yenna and Samuel are checking their packing. Erwin pays special, subtle attention to the latter. He looks nervous, but is talkative and energetic. Yenna peers at him too. Erwin trusts her to keep an eye on him tonight.  He fails to find Lauda, and so assumes she is in the showers. Keiji is relaxed, playing cards with members of Sells’ new squad. They wave at Erwin and he feels reassured by their ease. Hallie is with Hange, listening to them talk about the possible correlation of titan height class and intelligence. Moblit is moving equipment from Hange’s lab into a crate outside.  “Good afternoon, captain.” Hallie says brightly. She seems excited. The stone in Erwin’s stomach turns over. She’s young but she’s fast, and she listens to orders. Maybe she can make it back. Nanaba comes to his room as he’s changing into more casual evening clothes. It’s under the guise of checking her new squad’s relay line again, but then she casually mentions that she’ll be taking her horse to make a call in the evening. Erwin imagines she wants to visit her lover before they leave. She doesn’t need to ask permission, but he suspects she is being cautious: telling him where she is going so he is not concerned when she disappears. He knows how brave she is, how steadfast. He would have arrived at the correct answer on his own. He doesn’t say so. Instead, they talk about her home and her people. Her father died the previous year, he remembers, but she didn’t request leave to go to his funeral. Then it’s just Levi. Erwin goes to look for him in his room but encounters him in the corridor by mistake. He is cleaning out a rarely-used supply closet. There is dust on his apron. This, of course, is not his duty, but cleaning relaxes him, and he is so focused that Erwin decides to leave him to it. “Do me a favour. Toss that outside.” Levi says, his back to Erwin, having somehow sensed it was him approaching. Erwin guesses he is referring to the bucket of murky water outside the door. He says nothing; picks the bucket up, carries it downstairs, pours it into a storm drain and returns it. When he gets back, Levi is leaning against the wall, the handkerchief pulled away from his mouth, wiping his hands clean. “Better?” Erwin asks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Levi says, still not really looking at him. Erwin smiles. “I wasn’t going to disturb you.” “Well, you disturbed me by staring. At least you made yourself useful. Did you need something?” “I thought I’d check how you were doing. I’ve spoken to the rest of the squad. The day before an expedition can be trying.” Levi snorts, beginning to remove his many layers of protective clothing, folding his apron up neatly. “Of course.” “Well? How are you doing?” “I’m fine, captain, thank you for asking.” He says sarcastically, rolling down his sleeves. “Filled with excitement at the prospect of more bloodshed.” “It’s ok to be anxious.” “I’m not anxious.” Levi says, slouched against the wall, brows lowered apathetically over calm eyes, the picture of ambivalence. Only his cleaning, his tense shoulders, his thrice-washed hands and his too-pink fingernails betray him. He just stands there, all loose posture and bad attitude, looking at Erwin evenly. He’s still such a novelty.  He will return. Of all of them, if there is any chance for anyone, it is him.  The thought brings Erwin a sense of morbid calm. “If there’s anything you need, just ask. I’ll see you tonight.” Erwin says, scrambling for distance once again, nodding at Levi, going to leave. “We could die on this mission, you know?” Levi says like he’s bored, examining his nails. Erwin stops, turns back to him. “It is a possibility that I have come to terms with, yes.” “I’d say more a probability than a possibility.” “For some, perhaps. Not for you. Not if you are careful.” Levi looks at him more, long and hard, trying to settle something in his own mind, perhaps. Erwin stands still, arms folded behind him, and lets himself be looked at. Levi’s eyes narrow. “And we do this again and again until we’re eaten, yes?” “Or until we are free, correct.” “And you don’t regret? You prepare for the worst over and over and just...accept that there are some things you’ll never get to do.” “That’s practically in the job description, Levi. Sacrifice means sacrificing  everything  in the Scouts. The chance at a normal life, at luxury, at peace, at safety and longevity: this is what we give up when we give our heart.” “Tch.” Levi rolls his eyes. Erwin has noticed that Levi is not fond of his turns of phrase when they lean towards rhetoric.  “Are you having doubts, Levi?” One moment of hesitation from Levi could spell disaster for the whole Regiment, and all of Erwin’s plans for them. “No.” “Regrets, then?” “I was talking about you, not me. Some people say what they mean.”  Erwin frowns. “I do not have any regrets.” “None at all?” “No.” “Not even about all those hours you have spent in the  company  of others? People you hate who ate up your time for a victory you won’t even get to see?” As he speaks, his voice drops. At first Erwin thinks it’s with distaste, but then he sees Levi’s eyes flick to the side. He is concerned about being overheard in the empty corridor, concerned about spilling Erwin’s secret.  “No. Whatever my own feelings on the matter, they provided a service and got fair payment, as per an agreement. There is nothing to regret in honesty, or in furthering a cause I believe in with what means I can.” Levi stares again. It burns behind Erwin’s forehead. How can someone so small have such... presence?  “Payment.” Erwin nods. He shifts his weight back, trying not to look uncomfortable. Levi shrugs, seems satisfied, bends down to pick up the bucket and put it back into the supply closet, and says “perhaps you should pay me for my services then, since you’re so big on fairness,” off-handedly, like he’s discussing what to eat for dinner. “Excuse me?” Erwin says, just managing not to stutter. “I  said, ” Levi emerges from the room, dusts off his hands, closes the door behind him, “Perhaps you should pay me. Then there will be nothing to regret. Just fair payment.” This is quite a change. Only days ago, Levi was furious with him because he thought there was a chance that Erwin was bargaining for his skill. He was disgusted, insulted, Erwin had to force him to tell him what was wrong, and now he is...asking for his due? “Is your wage not fair payment?” “Am I worth the same as the other soldiers?” “No.” Erwin answers honestly. “Alright. So how is it fair? You said so yourself: I’m special. Well, give me special treatment.” “Levi…” Erwin is incredulous. He drops his hands. “I...don’t know if you’re suggesting what I think you are, but I  explained  why - “ “Yeah, yeah,” Levi waves his hand around, knocking aside Erwin’s excuses, “Can’t compromise your neutrality, cannot besmirch your honor, your heart belongs to the cause and only the cause, I get it. I don’t care.” “Well, nothing has changed.” Erwin keeps his voice stern, stops it shaking, swallows his panic. “We might die on this mission, like you said.  Possibility or probability, whatever. You want to just...leave it like this?”  No. “I must.” “Why?” “Because it would be unprofessional. Irresponsible.  Inappropriate  - “ “Because I’m in your squad? Because I’m your  project?  Because I’m not scared of you and you’re the only one whose orders I follow?” “Because…” “Because you can’t get emotional, I understand. But you seem to do a pretty good job of keeping your feelings out of it when it comes to the others. Why not me? Just...think of it as payment.” He loses his nerve on the last sentence, glances away. The tips of his ears are red. “I thought you didn’t want me to pay you. The idea revolted you.” “Yeah, well, things have changed.” He looks back at Erwin, his gaze full of venom, like he hates him for putting him in this position, whether Erwin meant to or not. “This is the only way, isn’t it?”  We might die, is what Levi means.  He’s finding a loophole, bypassing Erwin’s safeguards, and preying on his weakness. Erwin is almost proud of him.  “Pay for me. The way you do with the others. I want to know. I want to understand.” He says, as close to blunt honesty as it seems he can bring himself to be. He looks away again, grinding his teeth, arms crossed. “I don’t want to regret anything either.” It’s bold. Erwin doesn’t know why he’s surprised. Levi doesn’t like being vulnerable, but he’s not a coward.  “I…” He can’t think of anything to say. His brain seems to have stopped working.  Levi raises an eyebrow, looks disappointed, and says “forget it”. He picks up his cleaning clothes. “I don’t want to make you feel like you owe me something, or that you have to do something you don’t want to. It was just...a suggestion.” He shrugs, plays it off, waits for Erwin to say something. “You would…” Erwin starts, trying to reconnect the ideas in his head, “You would want me, like that?”  And all it entails, all the shadows in the corner and baggage under the bed?  Levi squints at him like he’s simple. “Yes.” He says. “Right.” Erwin’s brain starts working again, starts thinking, piecing together information, drawing up possibilities. A door opens at the end of the hallway, and they are disturbed. “See you tonight, captain.” Levi says cooly, and heads for his own room, leaving the unflappable Erwin Smith standing in a corridor in something like shock.  This does not bode well. He has an anxious twisting feeling in his gut, a pressure behind his eyes, tired from fighting his instincts, of keeping his back straight.  Like donning a helmet, he draws himself forward again, pressing the power back into his face, unshakeable once more. The recruit that shuffles towards him down the corridor gives him an apprehensive “sir”. Erwin doesn’t know his name. He must be just out of cadet academy, along with the fresh batch of recruits, thrown into their first mission within a fortnight.  The afternoon is turning into evening. He has his final meeting with Shadis and then after dinner he will meet the men in the courtyard. He imagines that, whatever happens, he will not be sleeping as much as he should tonight.  000 Dinner is a strange affair. Part-celebratory, part-mournful, they open the stocks and use up all of the perishable food in one big banquet. Erwin isn’t hungry, but he manages to finish his portion, unwilling to look ungrateful or shaken. Shadis is drinking hard spirits, openly for once, but instead of giving him concerned sideways looks, his squad leaders are toasting with him. Hange slips in late; unusual for them. They must have been packing supplies when no one was around to see. Erwin quickly calculates the possibility that anyone else might think it strange, might nurture suspicions, might poke their nose in, and deems it unlikely.  Shadis gives his usual speech, dry in passion but full of threat; it will be enough to rally the troops. The more experienced soldiers drink beer and laugh amongst themselves. The new recruits look less eager to celebrate, but all valiantly maintain a brave face. Several of them look ready for a fight. Erwin hopes they make it to the courtyard before anything breaks out. Levi sits with his squad; a sight that Erwin takes for granted, but he once would have considered a distant fancy. Yenna on one side, Margot on the other, but Levi is openly staring straight at Erwin. It isn’t quite with interest, or really with particular intensity, more like he’s lost in thought and his eyes happened to alight there. Erwin tries to ignore it. After dinner is cleared away, Mike sidles up to Erwin and knocks their shoulders together.  “I guess it’s up to us now: all the older vets have gone.” “It’s an honour, I suppose, to start the fire.” “It’s work for lackeys, but I don’t trust these kids around open flames all that much, so it’s probably for the best.” He says. He seems in good spirits. Mike projects an unspoken but potent confidence that is supported by his field record. Erwin adds him to the list of people to not worry about. The list is currently very short: him and Levi. “I hope we aren’t using the last of the firewood. The Commander likes a fire in the evening.” “There will be plenty: everything is so dry because of the heatwave.”  “Always a silver lining.” Erwin feels that discomfort again, like wearing his dress shoes. This version of himself, the casual comrade, Mike’s friend since cadet camp, is difficult to conjure after so long of boxing it away. It’s gathered dust. It sits strangely on him now.  
   I won’t need to be anything else, out there. I can focus on the mission, on my teammates, and titans, and nothing else. Those nobles wouldn’t even recognise me, out there… 
 There is a crack in the courtyard. The story is that, several decades before, the ground shook. Everyone within the Walls felt it, like the world trembled for a few moments. The lakes rippled and sloshed in their basins, houses collapsed onto families, trees were uprooted and blocked the roads, and several square miles of the Underground caved in and had to be abandoned. So much damage, from a few minutes of instability. People thought the titans had broken through, or there were titans stirring beneath their feet, deep in the bowels of the earth. For a few minutes, the giants were inside. The very ground turned against them. And then it stopped, and never happened again. Erwin doesn’t know if he believes this story or not. People love to exaggerate disaster to make them grateful in hindsight. It is an ancient tradition of elaborating on the truth, or telling cautionary tales to children. However, there is so much about their world that they do not know. Erwin tries to conceive of it sometimes. In order for the ground to shake, it would need to be resting upon something, like a pontoon on a river. He cannot imagine that; that the grass and mud and bedrock of the land is not stable. It is almost too big a concept to fathom. And if it  wasn’t…  The shake came, destroyed, and left, leaving behind a crack in the central courtyard of the building they then developed into the Headquarters of the Survey Corps. It runs diagonally across, and in the middle, splits into two cracks before they meld back into one. This central channel has long been knocked loose, and now there is a hole, a rough dent in the stone, as if the ground has opened up and bequeathed them the perfect pit for a fire. The Regiment never found the money to fix it, assigning budget instead to more essential expenses.They hold their strange ceremonial vigil here, gathered around the crack, before long missions such as this. The rain has stopped, but clouds hang pregnant with the next downpour, blocking out most of the blue beyond. The threat lingers, waiting, a promise of a storm dangled in front of them, currently held at bay. Mike and Erwin help carry the firewood, and light the first log, then sit on a crate each and watch the first-timers mess around with kindling and straw, skewering leftover meat on sticks, trying to roll a barrel of beer into the courtyard for easy access. The fear in the new recruits’ eyes has fizzled into a sort of frenzy. He shares a look with Mike and knows they must be responsible. The only thing worse than riding out into titan territory for the first time is doing so hungover. They shouldn’t really be drinking in the first place. Shadis, however, understands the importance of morale, or perhaps simply doesn’t wish to seem a hypocrite.  Mike chews on a strand of flax, tossing his dice in the air and catching them, listening to Gelgar talk from the crate beside him. Erwin isn’t in the mood for games. He watches the troops gather, a gentle trickle from each courtyard entrance, flitting like moths to the outer edges of the flames’ warmth. The heat catches in his face. He slips out of his jacket, rolls his sleeves up, takes a sip of his beer and watches a group of kids, Miles’ squad, burn their precious scraps of beef by holding them too close.  People sip instead of swig, speak instead of shout, with a quiet appreciation for today rather than a desperate ruckus to ruin tomorrow. One by one, the veterans begin the ritual of burning - tossing their ‘tributes’ onto the flames - discarding a part of their personal life in order to face the brutal ultimatum of Outside, leaving behind something that tethers them to Walls that might hinder their service to humanity. It’s a tradition that is done more as an act of bonding to mark a notable expedition than what it must have started out as: a way to disconnect men from their own sense of self-preservation. Erwin watches Hange approach first, holding some of their notes. They get briefly distracted by what is written upon them, before remembering their objective and tossing them onto the fire. There are a few quiet cheers and a smattering of applause. Erwin watches the pages char and curl, like insects retracting into their shells. Following Hange is a group of soldiers, each about a year or so into their positions, who toss their tributes on together, so the fire coughs and spits, before swallowing them. Erwin catches a glimpse of a stuffed toy, letters wrapped in twine, a hipflask, a pair of spectacles, and flinches a little at the sight of a book, pages splayed and cover melting. With the tension broken, movement flows freer. People approach and retreat in soft waves, in pairs or groups or standing contemplatively alone, and with a sense of solemn duty and placid acceptance, throw a personal item onto the fire. One boy, Petyr, Erwin thinks, throws a garment of some sort on with ill-disguised anger. A pair of recruits look reluctant to part with their tributes - a box and a handkerchief - but encourage each other enough to surrender them to the flames as well. Nanaba drapes a shirt over one edge of the fire and several members of her squad coo at the sight of it engulfed.  People eat and drink, groups swelling and dissolving as talk comes easy and the Scouts enjoy this evening together - the last for many of them. The sun begins to set, pressing the crowd inward towards the glow of the fire and sealing them in its bubble of light. There is a new recruit, a woman in her twenties, transferred from the Garrison Regiment and with enough military experience to already be on her way to becoming a squad leader. Her name is Anja and she is gearing herself up to talk to either Erwin or Mike: he cannot tell which without looking directly at her and revealing that he has noticed her staring. When he looks over to Mike, one of his oldest friends, he spits the flax from his mouth, finishes his beer, reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of parchment. Erwin doesn’t quite catch what’s on it, but it looked like a drawing of a field flower: sketchy lines and bright colours. He screws it into a ball and throws it onto the fire with perfect aim, without standing from his seat or even breaking his relaxed posture. His eyes are impassive. Erwin smiles without knowing why. “Almost your turn.” Mike says, tossing his dice again, “Your tribute is here.” Erwin looks where he is nodding and sees Levi, hovering at the edge of the ring, the flames throwing flickering light across his impassive expression, making his scowl look deeper and his lips look smaller. Erwin scoffs. “I’ve hardly worked this hard on him just to toss him away now. That would be inefficient.” “And one thing you are is efficient, Erwin.” Mike concedes. “Still, we can’t have you paying too much attention to your pet project in the field.” “He’s more than that now.” Erwin says. “Yeah, I know.” Mike says, good-natured, watching his dice make a slow arc in front of his face before falling back into his open palm. “I know.” He says again, quietly, to himself. Levi must have noticed Erwin, but he’s not looking at him, arms crossed stubbornly, watching the more drunk recruits with open disapproval. Most of them give him a wide berth.  “I’ll watch his back if you go first.” Mike says.  “Thank you.” “And he better watch yours if I go first.” “He will. He can’t help it. I think he resents it.” “What do you mean?” “I’m being melancholic, ignore me.” “You are so dramatic. The pair of you.” “We are not a  pair.” Erwin says with uncharacteristic distaste. Mike rolls his eyes; a flash of white under his fringe of hair. “One minute I was holding his face against the dirt to stop him cutting you in half and now he follows you around like a lost puppy.” “You’d know more about that than me.” Erwin says, with a deliberately loud sniff. Mike ignores his teasing. “It’s creepy.  He’s  creepy. D@mn good fighter, I’ll give him that, and sure, he’s loyal, but forgive me if I ain’t singing tavern songs with him just yet.” Erwin laughs low in his chest, grinning. “I think he’s probably glad of that.” “He used to glare at me all the time. Little guy thinking he’s tough, forgetting the position we got him in Below. Thought he didn’t have to follow the rules, thought he was  better  than us all. It p@ss@d me off; arrogance like that.” “Whereas you, of course, are nothing but humble.”  “That’s not the point. It’s the attitude. I don’t give a d@mn where he came from, but he can’t expect to be put in charge just like that, just because he can  kill  good. He’s gotta put in the work like the rest of us. Gotta learn to give a sh@t. Somehow you’ve managed to make him do that. Put him in line, somehow, you know?” “I didn’t discipline him, I just talked to him.” “Like that isn’t a form of punishment.” He mutters dryly. Erwin shoves him with his shoulder.  “He’s just...difficult to understand. I cannot imagine what his childhood was like. He doesn’t know his birthday, his last name, his family or his background. He’s had to fight for everything he has. And then I strong-armed him into joining and got his friends killed, all because I was greedy. It’s a miracle he’s forgiven me at all, let alone decided to change his behaviour.” Mike watches him, sniffs, throws his dice and peers at them when they land on the ground in front of him.  “I don’t hate the guy.” He says, and that’s practically a love confession coming from Mike. “Good.” Erwin says. “You two are the power behind our defence. You will need to get along.” “If he keeps being cooperative, then I will. Might even consider that tavern song after a couple of years.” Erwin smiles, glances at Levi, watches his hooded gaze fix on the fire, his mind clearly drifting elsewhere.  “When you f@ck him, please don’t let him think it’s because he’s  special. I know that’s the kind of thing you’d say, but if I didn’t like him arrogant I don’t think I could stand seeing him smug.” “I don’t think Levi gets smug.” Says Erwin, deciding to ignore the bait. “I don’t want to find out.” Mike says, finality in his voice, and Erwin looks round to see Nanaba and Gershin approaching, pulling up their own crates, and the conversation is dropped. It is almost night. The shadows grow thicker outside the ring of orange in the courtyard. Erwin watches Levi standing alone, contemplating, and then he moves; walking with purpose towards the edge of the crack. He stops there, his weight slung casually over one hip, arms crossed, the fingers on his left hand tapping idly on his right bicep. He grinds his jaw. He does that, Erwin has noticed, when he is lost in thought. A few people are watching, but it is late enough that most are engrossed in their own conversations. Levi doesn’t seem to mind having a few audience members. He slips his hand into the pocket of his trousers and pulls out something small and wooden, a thick stick about three inches long. The flames glint off its smooth, varnished surface. Levi grips it along the diagonal of his palm, his fingers wrapped round one side and his thumb resting along the other, feeling its weight in his hand like it is new to him. It is then that Erwin realises what it is: it’s a knife handle, a crude and quickly-made knife handle. It is Levi’s. He must have smuggled it out of the Underground during his arrest.  Erwin knew he had been biding his time, of course, knew that he let himself be captured. Levi planned to wait for the perfect opportunity to kill him, perhaps using that very knife. Erwin was so caught up in Lobov’s dealings and the approaching mission that he’d put Levi’s motive out of mind. It would have been so easy to stumble and provide him that perfect opportunity. It is very fortunate that Levi never took it.  Levi looks at the handle blankly for a few long seconds, before throwing it, underhand and loose, into the fire. He turns and walks away without watching it burn, like he couldn’t be less interested. Erwin does watch. His eyes stick to it as it blackens, and then glows, turning to ash and embers. On the edge of the circle once more, Levi stops. He visibly sighs, and then changes course, approaching Erwin and the others. Mike looks up, and Nanaba greets him warmly. He glances sharply at the soldiers in the group next to them. A boy scrambles up and gives Levi his crate. He pulls it up. Gelgar offers him a drink. He surprises Erwin by taking it, grimacing at the rim before producing a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping it off. “Are you  excited, Levi?!” Hange asks, standing behind Nanaba, Moblit to their right.  “No.” Levi says, taking a sip. “Ah, that’s too bad! This job really is terrible if you don’t get excited by it!” “Is everyone else excited?” Levi asks the group. The resounding silence makes Hange gape. “I  am excited to see open land again.” Says Nanaba, throwing them a bone. “I’m excited to get away from Sells’ whining.” Mumbles Mike. “I’m excited to establish an outpost.” Erwin says, because he feels that he needs to.  Box-ticking. Fitting back into his own skin.   Levi rolls his eyes. Hange laughs. “Of course! Nothing like some hard-won progress to get Eyebrows all hot under the collar. I am excited to see some titans! What about you Moblit?” Moblit seems to seriously consider the question. “I am excited to see a proper sunset.” “Beautiful! Good answer. Gelgar?” Gelgar is in his cups. He sits slanted sideways and squints at Hange. When he gestures, beer sloshes over the rim of his glass and onto his trousers.  “I am excited to get home again. That will be a cause for celebration.” “...I  guess  I’ll accept that as an answer, but it is sort of cheating.” Hange says. They ruffle his hair and he yelps, spilling more of his drink, knocking their hand away and frantically patting his quiff back into shape. “Levi! What about you?” Levi’s glare is more performative than ever -  all bark and no bite tonight  - and Hange meets it with a smirk. “I’m excited to get away from your stench.” Hange cackles, half-collapsing onto Mike. “Do you  hear  this man?! He just says what he thinks;  no  messing around with Humanity’s Strongest!” “A blessing and a curse.” Erwin says, feels Levi’s eyes on his throat as he swallows his drink. “Have you burned your tribute, Levi?” Nanaba asks. “Yes, I have participated in your inane tradition, thanks for asking.” He says, low like a growl, laced with good humor. He drains his cup, wipes his mouth despite nothing spilling. “What did you burn?”  “None of your business.” He says. Exposure to Levi must lessen his effects. Two months ago, his rudeness would have made the atmosphere icy and tense. Now, Nanaba just shrugs and says “alright”. “Erwin?” Gershin asks.  “Not yet.”  “That sounds suspicious.”  “It isn’t. I just prefer it being dark.” “Do it now!” Hange says. “The new recruits should see us vets furthering the tradition, right?” “Very well.” Erwin sighs, stands, approaches the fire. After the clothes and books and flowers and even  jewellery that has gone before him, the letter he pulls out is a little anticlimactic. He gives it a final cursory glance, feeling nothing, and drops it onto the flames.  “Well?” “None of your business.” He says, in his best Levi, and it makes the others laugh. Levi’s lips twitch. Erwin sees it.  It is strange to see Levi here, amongst Erwin’s friends, speaking informally, drinking like that’s something he does. His shoulders are still tense, but he rests his forearms on his knees, and it opens his posture a little. He listens with his usual mixture of disdain and disinterest as they talk about Gelgar’s girl and Hange’s hygiene, but he  is  listening. They have come a long way in less than a year. Erwin hopes there are many more ahead. The night passes. Some drink more than others. Erwin is talked into a game with Mike, which he wins. When the darkness is absolute, the energy reaches its peak, and the chanting begins, the toasts, the embracing, the arguments. Anger and joy and pride all reach a level of manic necessary to disguise the fear behind them. Erwin stands and watches as the younger recruits rise from their crates and hurl them into the fire. It belches huge and bright in the crack in the courtyard, consuming and crumbling all in one.  Levi stands beside him, watching the flames again. A group of women are roasting what’s left of the meat on the growing inferno and handing it out.  “Are you hungry?” Erwin asks.  Surely my small talk is better than that?  He expects Levi to say ‘no’, but what he actually says is “I don’t like meat.”   Unusual. “Oh? Why not?” And instead of telling him to mind his d@mn business, or brushing the question off, a second phenomenon occurs.  “We used to have to eat what we could get Underground. Rats, dogs, sometimes, if we found any. Stuff that had just died. Stuff we could catch and kill. Filthy. Tasted like…like rot and sewage. Like death. I got sick once, from a cat that had been dead too long, and it almost took me with it.” He swallows, not taking his eyes off the fire. Erwin keeps his mouth shut. The sounds of cracking wood and laughter seem to fade away.  “And then I was up here, and I’m not worried about eating but instead being  eaten. Flesh is flesh. I don’t want it in my mouth. Makes me think of rats, and titans.” His shoulders lift in a very subtle shudder, and his brow lowers once more, closing off his face after allowing Erwin a peek underneath.  “I suppose it is a bit morbid: to consume other animals and then go out and kill titans for doing the same.” It must be another thing Erwin has lost touch with, he supposes. Another muted sensation that may have once been horrible and is now commonplace to him. His numbness always prevails.  Erwin’s never seen Levi throw meat away. He wonders if he gives it to someone else. Someone on his squad, perhaps.  “Why don’t  you  go eat?” Levi asks, almost accusingly. The rest of their little group are picking around the food. Mike tears a chunk off his piece with his teeth, and Erwin sees Hange tease him for it. Anja has finally drifted over to talk to him. “I have had my fill.” They stand in silence that is almost companionable. Erwin thinks about Levi pulling the handkerchief from his mouth to proposition him in the corridor. Then he thinks about the long road ahead, starting with tomorrow. Always starting with tomorrow.  “What did you do with the blade?” Levi is quiet for a moment, and then says “Gave it to the armory. Didn’t want to waste good steel.” “Good.” More silence. They watch Hange torment the recruits and Mike gather a small group of squad leaders to play dice with. The atmosphere is a little charged. Erwin cannot think of what he wants to say, for once.  “Why choose that as your tribute?” Levi sighs. He sounds tired, a little defeated.  “I don’t have much else. I’m not going to get rid of  their  things. Then I’d have nothing to fight for, I figure. So I burned that instead. It’s like, I don’t know, a tie to my old life. The one I’m not going back to. I suppose I’m one of you now. You’ve won, Erwin Smith.” It perhaps isn’t Erwin’s victory, but it  feels  like his victory, now, as Levi tilts his head to look at the dark sky above. The prideful, animalistic part of Erwin longs to claim his prize.  He blinks it away with alarm, reminds himself that he is not an animal, he is a man. Only monsters consume without need of nourishment.  “What was that letter?” Erwin glances at him. He looks like he knows the answer. They’re establishing level ground, then: honesty for honesty, truth at last.  “Camille’s. Her last. I should have burned it as soon as I read it, but…” He feels Levi’s eyes on him. They drift away again and he nods.  “It was her last.” “Yes. I wanted to treat it with some respect.” “And now?” “It is just a tradition, Levi, I am simply playing along.” “You don’t do things by half. Everything has meaning with you.” Their eyes meet. Levi’s look liquid in the flickering light, like the surface of whiskey in an expensive glass. Erwin decides that he doesn’t regret sharing his secret with Levi, even if it has made things harder.  “It is done with.” Levi scrutinizes him. “I don’t believe you.” Erwin huffs out a laugh. “I’m not asking you to. That’s not the point of the tribute burning. It’s personal.” “So you’re not just ‘playing along’ - you’re serious?” Erwin sighs, watches the activity around the crack in the courtyard, the warmth and destruction and fear and hope cradled in the aftermath of something inexplicable and uncaring, like a bird’s nest in the skull of a beast.  “I don’t know, Levi. I cannot predict the future. But I understand it is not sustainable. I wouldn’t want to break before my time.” Admitting weakness does not come naturally to Erwin. He finishes his beer and doesn’t look at Levi.  “Fine.” Levi says. His voice pitches low. It makes Erwin think of echoes in a cave.  A cold, wet sensation blooms on Erwin’s cheekbone. He glances up at the source: a storm cloud looms. The weather is turning. More raindrops fall. Levi clicks his tongue in displeasure. “That’s one way to put an end to this.” Erwin says, watching the troops notice the gradual patter on the stone, stretching out their palms to feel it on their skin. Several shriek and giggle. A few cover their heads, clumping close together.  “That’s your cue to clear up and clear out.” Shouts Shadis from an upper window, emerging from his room into the second-story corridor, slamming it closed behind him. “I’d better help.” Erwin says. Levi scoffs, wrenches his jacket up over his head as the heavens open, follows Erwin into the fray. They work side-by-side to pack away crates and cups. Nanaba takes the beer barrel off some recruits attempting to roll it in the wrong direction. They run things to and from the kitchen as most of the younger troops scatter. Those remaining gather beneath the archway entrance and watch the rain sheet down, fighting the fire, tempering its glow.  “It’ll burn itself out. Let’s leave it.” Mike says, tossing water from his hair. “I’m all for going to bed.” Gershin rubs his brow. They traipse towards the barracks, clothes beginning to soak through, and bid each other goodnight in the hallway. Levi peels off towards his own room. Erwin watches rainwater drip from his fringe onto his face, running down the point of his nose and slipping into the crease of his lips, like an artist’s pencil lovingly tracing the fine lines of his creation. Erwin clears his throat. He hears a door shut further up the hall. Levi glances at him. The low light makes him look smaller. Erwin jerks his head up, a tiny movement, easy to miss, or misinterpret. Levi does neither. Erwin heads for his own room. After a few careful seconds, he hears the quiet, precise sound of Levi’s footsteps following him. There is a fire burning in his room, still. He moves quickly to light a couple of candles so he can see properly. He hears the door open and close behind him as he does this. He puts a candle on the windowsill and turns to carry the other to his chest of drawers. Then he pauses and looks at Levi, leaning nonchalantly against his closed door. The bolt is pulled across the lock. The rain picks up outside until it sounds like a carriage careering down a cobbled street. And then they are alone again.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          We will get to the expedition I promise I just have to get some stuff out of the way first'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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