His Wounded Heart Beats For One (Levi x Reader Fanfiction)

22: Worlds Away

For this reception of the army, you're now waiting beside Keith Shadis instead of waiting for him. The commander is motionless and silent while his army works like ants around him, the stone amongst the tumultuous river. You try to stand as confidently as him, but you're nothing more than a mouse beside a giant.

"Commander," you whisper, spurred to speak when you see the tiny lines of horsemen appear in the distance. You can't believe you're asking the commander for consolation, but a small dialogue with him might soothe your nerves.

Strangely, Keith doesn't shut down your silent request to talk. He stares at the same focal point you're fixed on, melding his thoughts with yours. "Supervisor," he answers. "What do you think has happened this time?"

You instinctively grasp the hem of your cloak, praying for the return of the man that gifted it to you. "I don't know, sir. This is my first time in a situation like this."

"It's the same here as it is inside the Walls." Keith's voice stays low, and it's saturated with somber melancholy. "You're receiving the Scouts after a premature conclusion to their mission. It's the same as always."

You chew your lip anxiously, wishing these horrific emotions didn't have to be faced again. It's gut-wrenching, this constant pendulum between joyful attachment and despair-inducing grief. The pain is immense, and it seems eternal. There's no end in sight, not to this relentless purgatory of suffering and loss.

For a moment, you find just a hint of validity in Erwin's strategy in allowing nobody close to him. He builds no connections, constructs no castles of warmth. There's nothing for grief to destroy if no structure exists.

"It should be better this time," you say with an attempt at hope.

"It will be on a smaller scale," he admits. "But it will be the same. It's always the same."

It's troubling to hear the Scout Regiment Commander express despair. He of all people should be the beacon of hope, the one pulling the rest of the regiment out of that well of despondency. In this moment, though, he sheds that brutish front and exposes his insecurity to one of his measly subordinates. You're burdened with carrying his heart along with every heart of the regiment, joining these devils and their leader in their hellish torment.

"We're here to help," is all you can say to reassure him.

He doesn't take solace in that. He only watches the horizon, preparing himself to face his ruined troops.

As the army approaches, you start to make out the faces of those on horseback. Leading the group is Miche, seemingly uninjured. Good. Several men ride behind him, but you know none of them. You can't find who you're looking for.

And you scream at yourself to stay calm. You must stay calm, because the regiment comes first. Healing the soldiers come first. No matter how much you want to deny it, finding Levi will have to wait.

"Section Commander!" you shout to pull yourself together and to summon the leader. Miche's upon you instantly, closing the distance and recombining the two armies. "Did you take role?"

"Twelve injured, seven dead. The rest are in good condition." Miche answers immediately and effectively, already far more proficient than Keith was last time. He leaps off his horse as the swarm of men continue past him, ready to report to the commander.

"Tw-twelve," you repeat shakily, frozen as the subsidiary army rushes past you. "Seven—okay. Um. Fuck. Okay. Twelve." Your eyes watch each passing horsemen, but your brain doesn't process any of them. You're lost in the current, stunned and malfunctioning. "Injured. Injured! I need the injured with me! Where—" You stop, looking for anyone to speak to. Most soldiers are heading to their officers or inside, disinterested in slowing down for you. "Somebody," you whisper. "Where...fuck."