Eren stands on the ground. His knees are shaking—visibly. His hands are bloodied and dripping. The crimson of the thick liquid plip plips on the ground audibly, arrhythmic. Even Levi, residing on a nearby rooftop with the pounding of titan feet headed in their direction, can hear it. Can almost even hear the drawing in and pushing out of his ragged breathing. His eyes are a mix between ravenous and fearful. Wide. He's unmoving.

"Jaeger!" Levi shouts down to him. He's sure Eren has heard, but the boy makes no move to respond. "Eren!" he calls again. Glances toward the left. The titans are approaching. Not too quickly, but they are. And if they're to survive, they have to retreat and now.

"Eren!" Levi nearly screams. Finally, the brat's head snaps up. He trains his wide, fearful eyes on the corporal who's balancing one foot on the gutter of a roof while holding onto one of the chords of his maneuver gear, wrapped around a chimney. "Get out of there!" he orders. "Off the ground! Now!"

Eren's eyes fall to his trembling hands. "I can't," he nearly whispers.

"What?! Stop fucking around!"

"I...I can't!" Eren repeats louder. "M-my gear is broken...and I can't transform..."

The latter was clear from the blood all but gushing from the boy's hands, but the news about his gear comes as a shock to the corporal.

"Dammit," he hisses. He retracts the cord back into his gear and allows his feet to slide the rest of the way off the roof. He braces himself for a hard landing on the ground, hoping his legs (shaking much like Eren's) will manage to catch him.

But, as most things are in this world, his hope is in vain. As soon as his feet make contact with the ground, his knees buckle and his ankle—the one he'd injured while fighting the female titan—twists and cracks. He hisses again, catching himself on his hands as the pain blooms throughout the lower half of the limb.

"Captain! Why did you do that?!" Eren exclaims, rushing to Levi's side. "Get yourself out of here!"

Biting his tongue, Levi rises to his feet, making sure to keep most of his weight on his good ankle. The booming of titan feet are becoming louder; he glances over to find at least three in pursuit of them.

Eren's in a frenzy. His clothes are bloodied from his hands, his hair disheveled and his eyes—god, the fearful, worried, innocent look in his eyes kills Levi. Those eyes have seen so much and they are still so young...

"Can't," he says. "I'm out of gas."

Eren's eyes widen fractionally and he kneels down, beginning to fumble with the tanks in his own gear. A hand, rougher than intended, stops him.

"No," Levi says. "It'll take too much time, and I am not leaving you here alone."

Eren's liquid turquoise eyes lift again to Levi's hardened gray ones, skin darkened around their edges from lack of sleep. From seeing so much himself.

"You should get out of here," Eren retorts. "So at least one of us can survive."

"No," Levi states firmly. "On your feet. We need to get inside somewhere." His eyes are already scouring the area, scouting out a place to take refuge in for the time being, for some place to give them the last little speck of hope that maybe, maybe they'd see their comrades again...provided they aren't already dead.

Eren, as usual, is in no position to argue and reluctantly pulls himself to his feet. They start in the same direction the titans are headed in—north—to move themselves further from the hungry beasts. Levi bites his tongue as they start walking, trying his best to move quickly despite his injured ankle. When he's fallen several feet behind, Eren turns.

"Let me help you," he says, offering a bloodied hand.

The corporal's first reaction is to recoil from the messy limb and deny he needs any help, but with three approaching titans and his ankle flaring up more and more with each step, he has no choice but to accept the offer. Quickly, he hooks an arm around Eren's neck and allows the kid to support him around the waist. This is quicker, but not by much, and they only make it a few blocks before they're forced to stop around the corner of a building.

"Fuck it," Levi mutters. He leans against the wall where vines have started to make their home, retaking the structure bit by bit after having been abandoned for almost a decade. He begins to fumble with the straps of his gear to get it off.

"What are you doing?!" Eren asks fearfully.

"Giving you my gear," he explains. "Put your gas tanks in it and get the hell out of here."

Eren blinks down at him as if he's trying to determine whether or not his superior is serious. But of course he is. Levi isn't one to joke, has never been, and especially wouldn't at such a critical time.

"No!" he protests. "I won't leave you, either! Don't be stupid!"

"Stupid?" Levi spits. "You're one to talk, falling into that damn armored titan's trap back there! Besides, you're too important an asset to humanity. It's my duty to assure your survival, now take the damn gear and—"

"No."

"This is an order, Jaeger!"

"And I can't obey, captain! Not this time! If you won't leave me, I can't leave you, either. We...we go together or we don't go down at all," he states firmly.

Levi can just see the stubbornness set of Eren's jaw, the absolute resolve in those beautiful set of eyes, and he knows this will be a losing argument for him. Not that there's much time to continue arguing, anyway.

"Fine," he mutters. "Then we need to get inside."

"Yes, sir," Eren says, and they resume their position. They hobble a few more blocks before reaching a fairly tall building.

"This will have to do," Levi says. They stumble inside and immediately start up the stairs, Levi abandoning Eren's support while noting the extra paleness of his usually pretty flushed face.

"C-captain—!"

"I'm fine. Hurry."

Eren, of course, has no other option but to comply. He scrambles after his limping superior, hefting his tired, injured body up the stairs and leaving a trail of blood in his wake as the bite marks in his hands aren't healing.

There's something wrong, he thinks. The marks should be healing, whether he'd exhausted his titan abilities for the time being or not. Wounds always continued to heal with his regenerative abilities...but this time...

The two manage to make it to the top floor. The entire place is dusty, worn, nearly in ruins of having been abandoned and unmaintained for so long. The windows are cracked and the ceiling is beginning to cave in, but it will have to do.

"We'll stay here until sundown," Levi says. "Maybe a little after. Once those beasts have lost their energy from lack of solar power, we'll have to make a break for it." He sits heavily on a stool in the corner, grimacing minutely as the pressure comes off his injured ankle.

"Where will we go?" Eren asks in a small voice. He's got his hands cradled in front of him. The plips of blood droplets hitting the wood floor is louder now, due to the surrounding silence. Levi stares at them, thinking his own pain must be nothing compared to those deep bite marks.

"Don't know. We'll figure something out...even if it means you take my gear and get yourself out of here." The raven pulls himself to his feet, though reluctantly, and shuffles toward the cabinets and things around the room. Clearly, this floor was something of a kitchen before its abandonment; surely there's something to bandage Eren's hands with...

"Captain, I already told you—"

"Shut the hell up, Jaeger." He shuffles around in the cabinets. "We'll figure something out, but if we can't find a way for both of us to escape, you are going. That's an order, non-negotiable."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the kid flinch and tuck his hands closer to himself. He says nothing, but Levi knows he knows better than to argue as much as he may not agree with the orders he's given.

By the fourth cabinet, Levi finds a roll of gauze and some tape. No antiseptic, but were there any it would be long expired and would likely do more damage than good. He tries the faucet; it sputters a moment before spitting out quite a bit of rust. He waits a moment and eventually the water runs clear enough.

"Come here," he says.

Slowly, Eren crosses the room. Levi pulls the towel from hanging on a cabinet and soaks it, wrings it out, and holds a hand out. Tentatively, Eren offers one of his bloody ones and watches as Levi uses the towel to clean it of the blood. The bleeding has slowed, but Eren is shaking. Levi makes it a point to remain gentle, and when the hand is cleaned of blood, he rolls the gauze around it, rips it off, and seals it with the tape. "Feel okay?" he asks, keeping his eyes from Eren's.

The titan shifter offers nothing more than a shaky nod in response, and Levi gets to work on the opposite hand, repeating the actions and clarifying that it feels okay. With a tired huff, he leans back against the counter, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

"Your ankle," Eren says quietly.

"It's fine."

Eren shakes his head, the stubborn brat, and kneels down. "Let me take a look."

Levi slides his boot back. "I said it's fine."

"Come on," Eren pleads, gazing up at his captain with those shiny, luminescent eyes. "You took care of me."

For a moment, Levi keeps his hardened mask in place, brows pulled together tightly as he waits for Eren to give in. But after a moment, he's the one to give in. A sigh brushing past his chapped lips, he hops up onto the counter and allows Eren to slide his boot off, undo the maneuver gear straps from around his leg, and roll his pant leg up enough to reveal his swelling ankle. Eren's fingers are warm and very gentle as he probes around the joint, noting where Levi stiffens a bit at the pressure.

"I think you re-fractured it..." he murmurs.

"Well," Levi mutters, "nothing we can do about it now."

"It needs support," Eren says as if Levi never spoke. He reaches up for the gauze; it's not ideal, but it will at least wrap it for the time being.

"Like that will do any good," Levi scoffs.

"Just let me do it," Eren says, already fumbling for the end of the gauze with his shaking fingers.

And let him Levi does, despite not understanding how something designed for open wounds can help a fractured ankle. It seems to put Eren at ease, at the very least.

When he's finished, Levi hops from the counter (making sure to put his weight on the opposite leg, of course) and slides his foot back into his boot, much to Eren's chagrin.

"I'm gonna go look around," he says before the brat can protest. "See if anyone else has taken refuge here. Or to see if I can find any food..."

And to Levi's surprise, Eren doesn't argue. Levi passes him without a glance and heads back toward the door leading to the stairwell. He's halfway through it and about to descend the first step when he hears a considerably loud thunk...thunk from behind him. Frowning deeply, he turns back around wondering what in the hell could've produced that sound...

...to find Eren lying face down on the floor.

"What the...?" As fast as his injured ankle allows, he moved back to Eren's side and kneels next to him. "Jaeger," he mutters, shaking one of the brat's shoulders. Shakes a bit harder when he gets no response. Though he'd never admit it or show it, panic begins to bubble up in his stomach. "Eren..." Slowly and as gentle as possible, he lifts one of the teen's shoulders and eases him onto his back, halfway into his own lap.

Eren is pale, and almost deathly so. Levi forces a dry swallow, eyes roving over the length of his body to find any other injuries. Shakily, he moves Eren's already bloodstained scout's cloak away from the front of his torso to find the shirt he wears underneath to be absolutely soaked in blood on his left side.

That's not from his hands, he thinks. The blood slowly continues to bloom across the fabric, staining it darker and darker, the moisture of it causing it to stick to the skin underneath.

Levi feels his throat close, his stomach clench. He pulls Eren closer. He has no choice but to dress the wound, which requires ridding Eren's torso of the 3DMG straps and his shirt. His shaky fingers fumble with them, slipping up on the buckles. He pulls the shirt from where it's tucked into Eren's belt and lifts it to reveal the boy's muscular torso and a deep cut curving around his left side, along his ribs and ending near his navel.

"Dammit brat, why didn't you tell me?" he hisses. He internally denies the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

If I lose Eren, too...I'll have nothing left.

But he won't think about that. He refuses to lose Eren; refuses to let this boy die. Refuses to bear the burden of another death upon his shoulders. Out of all, he knows Eren's would be the heaviest.

Gently, he lies the teen on the floor before pushing himself to his feet to retrieve the bandages and wet cloth. As best he can, he cleans up Eren's skin, wishing again he had some sort of serum to help clean and heal the wound. Blood continues to seep from the cut. It's deep. Too deep.

Levi props Eren up the only way he really knows how—leaning the boy's back against his own chest—and goes around and around his torso with the bandages until the roll is empty. He makes sure it's secure and tapes it off.

Eren hasn't responded to his touch yet, but shallow breaths still pass through his nose. His body retains warmth, and he'd look more like he's asleep than passed out were it not for the paleness. Thinking of nothing else to do, Levi moves the several feet it takes to make it to the wall just beneath a clouded window where vines and leaves have found their way in after having grown up the side of the building as nature has attempted to reclaim the structure. He drags Eren along by the shoulders; his blood smears across the floor. The corporal settles the boy's head in his lap, cradling it on his thighs in an attempt to make him comfortable as possible. Places one hand on Eren's head, his fingers gently tangled through his unruly yet incredibly soft hair. The other falls to rest against the boy's lightly rising and falling chest, just over where his heart beats steadily. It's a reassurance of sorts, Levi thinks, to feel his heartbeat. Make sure he stays with him.

Levi wishes he could sleep, but sleep and he have never really gotten along too well. As a result, he sports constant grayish circles around his eyes and a look portraying him to be more pissed off than he usually is. Most nights while the rest of the castle was off in dreamland between hard days of working and training, Levi would stay up catching up on paperwork or lying awake staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his mind wander places he'd never, ever admit to anyone.

And this moment is no different. Night is beginning to fall; the sun has already disappeared behind the once great Wall Maria and all that's left of daylight from what the corporal can see is a grayish sky, fading into the dark, velvety blue with thousands of miniscule pinpricks of light he's so familiar with. And he doesn't sleep, nor does his brain fly with different strategies of how to get their asses out of there, or how he might have to hook Eren up to his gear and shove him out the window himself once he wakes up. Doesn't think of how, if that's what it comes down to, he'll meet his end.

Instead, he thinks of Eren. Of this idiotic brat he's spent so much time with in the past several years. Of his stubbornness—that undying fire in his eyes devoted to destroying the titan population, free humanity, and avenge his comrades and mother. Of his clumsiness—trying to clean to the best of his ability but still managing to miss the dust in the corners and not quite organizing things up to par. Of the bright flush in his cheeks and stubborn set of his jaw, furrowing of his brow as he watches Levi inspect his work, be it cleaning or training or simply the way he makes tea. (He's gotten a lot better, but has a long way to go if he truly wants to impress Levi.)

Since the entrance of Eren Jaeger, Levi's life proved to get more...interesting (yes, that was a safe word to use). He won't go so far as to say there's never been a dull moment in Eren's presence, but such moments are fewer and further between. He'd never met someone so absolutely devoted that it could, to some, be considered scary at times. Never thought a simple teenager could care so much or be so fearless toward a force attempting to annihilate the remainder of the human population.

And that is precisely why Levi would do everything in his power to keep Eren alive and able. The kid wasn't expendable. From the beginning, Levi's duties were to keep Eren in check and kill him if he ever showed signs of losing control of his unique abilities, but the brat has proved himself in the past several years, and gradually Levi found himself more concerned with protecting Eren than keeping him in check, with making sure he stayed alive. This was never ordered of him. No one had ever told him to protect Eren. This decision is of his own accord, whether it comes from logic in knowing Eren truly is their last hope, or from personal feelings of never wanting to see Eren fall victim to a titan the way he's seen so many others go down, he doesn't know, nor does he particularly care. It is his decision, and he's never once brought himself to regret a choice he's made.

A gasp startles Levi out of his thoughts; his eyes snap open to find Eren sitting up swiftly and then groaning as the pain of his side has surely registered. His hand clutches at the bandages, and he reels for a moment in seeing them.

"What...?" he breathes, bewildered.

"You shouldn't move so quickly," Levi chides softly. "Or your wounds will never heal."

Slowly, Eren's head swivels around. His bright eyes are wide, shimmering, scared and confused. He blinks a few times before he nods slowly.

Those eyes, as they always have, pierces Levi deeply and beckons at something within him—something  he has never been able to pinpoint.

"How long has it been?" Eren asks.

"Few hours," Levi responds, judging by how greatly the light flooding through the cracks in the ceiling has changed.

"Has anyone else...?"

The corporal shakes his head. Eren's Adam's apple bounces as he forces a swallow. Levi, too, is aware of his own cottonmouth and scratchy throat. Using the window sill for support, he hefts himself to his feet and tests his ankle as Eren watches. Pins of pain shoot through his leg at the pressure, eliciting an involuntary hiss. But he bears it, because at the very least they need hydration. The water can't be too bad to drink...

All under Eren's watch, Levi finds a couple of glasses that appear mostly clean and fills them before hobbling back in Eren's direction. The teen gratefully accepts but does not delve into the liquid right away as expected. Instead, he continues to watch his superior with those giant eyes filled with concern.

"What?" Levi all but snaps as he eases himself back onto the floor.

"You're in pain," Eren says, swiveling carefully to face him.

"So are you," Levi mutters. "Any other obvious things you'd like to point out?"

"No." Eren's eyes drop. "Sorry, sir."

Levi lets out a small sigh and takes a tentative sip of his water. It's not the best flavor, but it does well to chase away the dryness of his mouth. Eren, too, takes a small sip. His bandaged hands cause the glass to shake, and he carefully lowers it back into his lap, holding fast as if he's attempting to hide his shaking.

Part of Levi wants to say something. He knows anyone else would likely be trying to reassure Eren, tell him they'll be fine and find a way out, but the corporal has never been one to instill false hope into anyone, even himself. As hopeless and scared as Eren looks—an expression Levi has never truly witnessed him bear—he won't tell the brat they'll be fine. Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. Only time will tell.

Levi pretends not to notice the shaking in the boy and makes something of a show about carefully drinking his water. The room remains silent for a long, long while. The only sounds are small, brief breezes whistling through the cracks in the ceiling; the fabric of Levi's clothes brushing softly against itself as he continues to drink, and even the sound of his swallowing miniscule sips. Eren, on the other hand, had made no move to drink any more of the liquid and has since gone virtually still, his hair concealing his eyes.

Levi's lips pop open gently as he prepares to tell Eren to drink, but he's cut off.

"Captain?" Eren asks in a hushed voice. Really, it's little more than a whisper. In one word, fear has crept in and causes his articulation to shake. Levi feels a pang in his gut.

"Hm?" he asks, equally as soft.

The shaking picks back up; if possible, Eren's fingers tighten around the glass. The liquid inside ripples. "Have...I let everybody down?" The inquiry sounds choked. Strained. Like he forced himself to ask and is afraid to find out the answer. Almost like it physically pained him to form the sentence.

Levi looks steadily over the boy. He doesn't have a direct answer. Can't say 'yes' or 'no' without uncertainty. Won't anyway, because he doesn't want to lie to Eren.

"I don't know," he says after a few long breaths of silence. "I suppose it depends on whether or not they're still alive."

"A-and if they're not?"

Levi blinks slowly at him, watches as those magnificent eyes begin to gloss over with moisture. He wants so desperately to say something to alleviate Eren's fear and pain; he's always hated to see this kid anything short of...mostly happy...

"If they're not, you should do everything in your power to make sure their deaths weren't in vain."

Eren nods. Tears are making pools of his lower lids. His entire frame seems to be shaking.

"Have...have I let you down?" he whispers.

In that moment, Levi swears he feels his heart crack, if not break completely, straight down the middle in a jagged line. Eren's pain pierces him and becomes his own pain, and he hates it. He doesn't want to feel. At all. Yet he owes the answer to Eren.

He lowers his glass to the floor; it clicks as he gently sets it down. He meets the cadet's gaze steadily.

"As long as you're still alive and fighting, you will never let me down, Eren."

And just like that, Eren breaks down, utterly and completely. Tears cascade down his cheeks, wetting those long, feathery lashes. His fingers release the glass; it rolls from his lap and onto the floor, wetting the wood and part of his bloodied pant leg. That beautiful face twists up in pain, so much pain and hopelessness; his arm lifts in an attempt to hide his tears. He hiccups as if he's trying to hold in his hysterics, and Levi is at a complete loss as to how to react.

He's never seen Eren so broken. Has never seen his tears. He's not the type of person to know what to do when someone he cares about is in so much pain, with endless tears pouring from their ducts. He's never been good at comfort period, never mind someone crying the way the titan shifter is. With his bandaged hands and torso, he looks like a broken doll who's been through way too much rough play and ended up broken, taped up in an attempt to fix him.

"S-s-sorry," he manages through a thick throat. He gulps in a breath like he's trying to regain his composure, but it's fruitless. He resembles a small child with his arm covering his eyes like that. And Levi can do nothing but stare.

"Eren..."

The boy doesn't respond. Or perhaps he can't. Levi's unsure. But his own chest aches and he can't shake it.

Slowly, slowly, Levi reaches out and places his hand lightly on the quivering shoulder of his soldier. Eren gasps a bit. His arm lowers, revealing wide, bloodshot, watery eyes. Those eyes, those eyes that Levi adores...

"I-I'm..." the boy stammers.

Levi merely shakes his head. He doesn't want an apology. In fact, he doesn't really want Eren to say anything.

And suddenly Eren's diving right into Levi's chest, a broken sob ripping from his throat as he goes. His fingers wrap themselves around the edges of Levi's jacket and his body is wracked with sobs in just a few short seconds. Levi can't move. He doesn't know how to comfort this boy, as he can't even find comfort himself in this shitty situation. But for the strangest of reasons, he wants to try. One hand slides up to the back of Eren's head, the other remaining on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, he lets the boy cry into his chest.

Eren just needs something, someone to hold onto. Levi knows he isn't the best thing, nor the most ideal, but for now he's all Eren's got. And, admittedly, Eren is all he's got, too. But for him, that's enough. Eren is the single most important thing in his life; even if the boy is broken, he's alive. He can make it.

After several long minutes, Eren's weeping begins to subside (though his shaking does not). He sits back a bit, his eyes open but unfocused.

"Captain, I..." He stops. Swallows. Hesitates before saying a hushed, "I'm scared."

Levi's fingers curl on the back of Eren's head, threading through his soft, thick locks. Strangely, he can't take his eyes off this kid.

"Me, too," he whispers.

Eren's eyes gradually lift to Levi's. They shimmer in what little light streams through the clouded window above them by the silvery moon. "If they're gone...if this is our last night...please stay with me. I don't wanna be alone. Please...just stay..." he pleads brokenly. A few more tears escape.

The corporal pulls him in, snaking his arms around Eren's broad shoulders and pressing his face into one of them. A light gasp escapes Eren's lips, right in Levi's ear. They're still as statues for a moment, Levi too embarrassed to pull away and face what he's just done on top of the fact that he, admittedly, really doesn't want to let go; Eren too confused to pull away, and yet completely drawn to his captain's warmth. Tentatively, he moves his arms around Levi's slender waist and presses his own face into the other's shoulder. He smells of sweat and dirt, yet strangely something sweeter. And he's so warm, Eren can't bear to let go...

"Yeah, Eren. I'll stay."