In Our Own Little World (Injured/Sick Levi x Reader)

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Author's Note: Hello, lovelies! Here's another slight AU where Levi is arrested at the beginning of the Uprising instead of Erwin. Enjoy!


Everything hurt. And he was cold. So, so cold.

He was horribly aware of the grime coating his naked body – a mix of sweat, blood, and whatever muck was covering this stone floor. Yet, he couldn't wipe it away. Even if there hadn't been chains around his ankles, wrists, and throat, he wouldn't have been able to move. His muscles had no strength left.

He was trembling from head to toe, and while his body felt cold and clammy, his head was unbearably hot. A fog had taken hold of his brain, making it difficult to think. Yet, he was coherent enough to consciously recognize that he was sick, and that it was serious. He may have escaped the Underground, but decades later, in this dank cell, contagion had finally caught up with him. All his efforts, his obsessive cleaning, had been for naught. He was going to waste away, slowly and messily, just like his mother.

His eyes stared straight ahead at the iron bars of his cell, at the hallway beyond, not really seeing them. Of course, there wasn't much to see from this position – lying on his side, cheek pressed against the hard floor. Only more stone, and dim torchlight...

Vaguely, he registered the sound of his cell door creaking open, but it seemed oddly far away. Perhaps the MP's had come back to beat him some more. Or maybe they'd finally decided to kill him. That would be nice. Then he could die quickly, wouldn't have to suffer for days or weeks while his body rotted from the inside out...

"Oh!"

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Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling your shocked gasp. You'd known the Fritz regime wouldn't be kind, but this...it was heartbreaking.

Levi was lying limp on the dungeon floor, chained, naked, covered in dirt and injuries. Clearly, the MP's had beaten him – perhaps even tortured him – just because they could. Because they were pathetic, and they wanted to feel powerful, despite the fact that they never could've taken Levi in a fair fight.

Wasting no time, you rushed across the cell and dropped to your knees at his side. "Levi, my love, can you hear me?" you whispered. "It's me, (f/n)."

You threw back the hood of your cloak, letting him see your face – if he could see you. He didn't seem to be coherent, and when you placed your hand on his forehead, his skin felt clammy and much too hot. You couldn't tell if he was sick from exposure or if his wounds had become infected. Perhaps both.

"Don't..." he mumbled, the sound so slurred faint that you could barely understand him. It seemed the fever had made him delirious. "Don't look...at me..."

Your heart shattered all over again. He must've been embarrassed to be seen like this – Humanity's Strongest brought low. Yet, you didn't think any less of him, could never think any less of him. You were only filled with sorrow at the sight of his suffering.

"Shh, Levi, it's alright now," you whispered while removing your cloak and covering him with it. "I'm going to get you out of here. I'm going to take you somewhere safe, and get you cleaned up. You don't have to worry."

Using the keys you'd swiped from a hook in the hallway, you unlocked the restraints around Levi's throat, wrists, and ankles. Then you made sure your cloak was securely tucked around him before lifting him in your arms, cradling him like a baby. He was noticeably lighter than the last time you'd picked him up, and you wondered if his captors had fed him at all during the several days he'd been imprisoned here. Given their obvious cruelty, you seriously doubted it.

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