neighsaying | inbox | labyrinthum

Thanks to Dolph, the damage to his chest is already a memory - though the events leading up to it will probably stay in his nightmares for a long time. His leg as well is doing much better, almost healed, and he isn't favoring it anymore.

Somnius is starting to get back to normal, so Jean and Eren resume their delivery service - although things have changed between them. People still need to be fed, though, and Jean finds a certain peace in having something to do, rather than sit around and feel useless.

The knock is somewhat unexpected, and when he opens the door the last thing he expects to see is Levi. There's the briefest moment where his shoulders tense, for a moment, before he relaxes. He knows the two of them are fine - he found the horses fed, after all.

"Captain," he says, sounding relieved. There's a brief pause where Levi may be able to get a word in, but a moment later he steps forward, wrapping his arms around Levi tightly.

"Sorry," he says as he does it, "I know you're not much of a hug person. But I'm glad to see you're okay."

That really is his concern - that Levi is okay, at least physically. Not hurt, not dead, and neither is Erwin or he's sure he wouldn't be here. As far as he's concerned, though the sight of Levi over him will haunt him, that's water under the bridge.

Edited 2024-06-25 02:12 (UTC)

There's a moment where they just stare at each other. Heartbeats.

When did he get so damned tall? At least the angle is familiar, but just like in moments that occasionally happened with Hange, the gap of years between them suddenly seems so vast. Of course Levi has marked all these differences before - not just how much Jean has physically grown, but the changes in his temperament, the wisdom and thoughtfulness that can only be gained through experience. All of the lessons learned, no matter how painful - some of which Jean often says came from him.

Years he doesn't have.

What sort of shitty lesson did he impart this time?

Levi forces his throat to unstick.

"Jean...-"

The relief in the younger man's voice and on his face is so unexpected he hasn't even processed it--

-- and then Jean crosses all of those years and that scant distance between them--

...there's arms around him.

Levi freezes.

There's a flash of a thought - intrusive, instinctive, ingrained - too close a knife is coming for your back knee to the groin break the hold fight flee free

But he's already let himself be thought, without hardly thinking about it. Because it's Jean, because if he's going to drive a blade into him he fucking deserves it for losing control, because-

...what?

It doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The words catch up to him. The embrace. That look. The sound of his voice.

And whether or not it's deserved, relief crashes into his guilt like rapids over stone.

Levi exhales the breath caught in his chest, soft and shuddering, and slowly wills his stiffened limbs to work, wrapping his arms around Jean in turn, one hand resting carefully at the back of his head.

He closes his eyes against something gathering at their edges, and mutters quietly against his shoulder.

"...I'm sorry."

Jean honestly expects it to be a one-sided hug, if he's honest. He's always been a physical person - Levi is too, if you know how to look for it, but he's more subdued. His affections are a hand on your shoulder, a ruffling of hair, a bump of his side to yours. Gestures he's more used to seeing given out, to people like Hange, Eren, and Armin, but has received himself.

This is the first time he's hugged him, ever. It's unique to them here, at the very least; something Jean needed after everything that happened, after losing Mikasa and Eren, even temporarily. He'd told Dolph he couldn't lose the other two of them, but the truth is: He could live through losing Erwin again. He's not sure what he'd do if he lost Levi.

He's surprised, then, when Levi exhales and doesn't step away; when he brings up his arms to wrap them around him too, a hand at the back of his head. Jean closes his eyes. It reminds him a lot of getting a hug when you come home; no matter how awkward due to changes in heights, it feels familiar.

"You're forgiven," he tells Levi immediately, no trace of reluctance in his tone or body. He'd tell him not to worry about it - but he knows Levi will. "You weren't yourself." Jean also thought he could handle it - he was wrong. He won't get into that just yet.

Edited 2024-06-25 04:20 (UTC)

His physical affections have always been brief, benign, but undeniably there. Maybe it had been all that he could afford, reaching out to people just enough to make a connection without imposing himself. An embrace left you vulnerable, a show of trust that didn't come easily for him at all, and not even with most people. Even with Erwin, they had never been so intimately, physically close until arriving here.

Perhaps, in a way, he's become accustomed to it enough now that the initial, flinching reaction to confinement is easier to redirect now.

Love and guilt and gratitude help, too.

Of course, Jean just doles out forgiveness, even though Levi had no intentions to even ask. His fingers curl a little, in fabric and sand-colored hair, and he huffs a little, a gentle rebuke.

"Doesn't matter," he grumbles lowly. "I hurt you - could've killed you - for nothing. It wasn't real."

If they'd been home Jean would be spending weeks recovering. It's a lucky thing for both of them that he didn't have to suffer long. Maybe there just wasn't time to let the event fester into resentment; although that doesn't mean it never could.

After a few more seconds, Levi loosens his hold, and starts to let his hands fall away. "Don't go hurting your back for me, either. It'll get harder to comfortably take a shit when you're older if you fuck it up now."

Jean squeezes once, just a little tighter, before Levi loosens the hold. Ever respectful of his need for space, as he sees it, he doesn't stop him. he lets his arms fall away and straightens up, giving Levi a small smile; one that grows wider at the joke.

"Don't worry, I won't. I learned my lesson when we slept on the floor for a month." It's one thing when you have no option and have to sleep on the ground in a tent - it's another when three people bed down on a hardwood floor. Thank god for the hot springs, is all Jean is saying about that.

He steps back to wave Levi in, since clearly he came with something in mind - he did spot that parcel, after all.

"You could have done a lot of things you didn't. I also should have let you go - I was still injured and it would have been the smarter decision. I didn't. If you want to play the blame game, then I have some responsibility for it too."

He holds his breath reflexively at the squeeze, giving Jean a couple of awkward pats that are more like taps with his fingers. There's still a little lingering tension even after he's released, a mixture of wary concern and being caught off guard with affection. The smile helps, though.

Levi clicks his tongue in mild disapproval as he follows Jean inside, the small package once again in hand.

"Told you brats not to do that, either. Well - you're still springy at your age, at least."

Although springing back from bad sleeping habits is easier than broken ribs...but at least they did have magic. Maybe that was in part why he'd been able to justify it, even under the thrall; Jean would've been able to get help quickly enough, and certainly someone seems to have patched him up probably not long after he'd left. Levi has to cling to the belief that his aim had only ever been to keep Jean from stopping him...but quietly, he isn't entirely sure that would've been the end of it, if pushed hard enough.

It's rarely made sense to puzzle out blame; so many of the tragedies they'd both lived through had far too many variables to ever fully attribute them all to one person or another, or pinpoint to a single decision.

Levi gazes at him quietly a moment.

"Yeah, you should have listened to my warning. But you didn't believe I would follow through."

Jean makes sure to give Levi a little extra space after the hug, closing the door behind him and trusting Levi to slip off his shoes. He's the one Jean learned that habit from, after all.

Also out of habit, he moves to the kitchen to put on the kettle. There's a moment, bittersweet, when he opens the cabinet and spots the tea the Captain likes nestled to the kind Mikasa preferred too, but he pulls out the tin and sets about starting the tea.

He can feel Levi's gaze on him, but he answers without turning around. Trusting Levi at his back.

"Captain, I trust you mean everything you say. I thought I'd be quick enough if I pissed you off to escape, and lead you to the lake." He shrugs his shoulders, as if it's as simple as that. "I wasn't, and I won't make that mistake again."

In all honesty, he wasn't sure if Levi would stop. He knew he was taking a risk when he reached out to him, even more when he tried to get away. It was stupid, and even riskier with an injured leg.

Levi does have a point, though: one of his considered factors was trusting that Levi wouldn't kill him, even the way he was.

Edited 2024-06-25 17:54 (UTC)

There's a brief moment of hesitation before he steps out of his loafers, toeing them neatly together near the others. Mikasa's slippers are still in place as though she's gone out for the day, and Levi likewise feels that twinge of absence. He should have spent more time with her. But when someone is gone suddenly, however much time you did have together will never seem like enough.

A bit of skepticism shifts into his expression. Not that he doubts Jean trusts him, but there's an obvious contradiction there; Jean didn't correctly calculate the chance that Levi would follow through, didn't, apparently, believe that he would go so far as to kill him if necessary. Usually, Levi prefers that - he'd rather Jean and anyone else close to him not have to be afraid that his monstrous strength would be turned against them.

Maybe it's a mistake here, though, when something could take control of that.

Still, it's a little funny that the younger man believed he could somehow outmaneuver him. Maybe four years on it would be a better possibility.

"Must have gotten slow in my old age," he mutters, padding after him into the kitchen. "You got too close. Keep your distance, next time."

He sets the parcel on the counter, nudging it towards Jean. It's a small box, wrapped in an indigo cloth. Inside is a set of four small tins, each with a small amount of tea - Jean's favorite, Eren's, jasmine, and Darjeeling.

"I will," Jean takes the correction gamely. He did learn his lesson - fighting Levi has never been something he'd really expected to do, but now he's been reminded of the gulf between them. In training was one thing; one on one with no holding back is another.

"The only person who might have been able to beat you in your old age would be Mikasa, so I think you're safe."

Saying her name isn't easy, but Jean does it and keeps moving around, taking out cups and placing them on the counter. He retrieves a carton of milk and a small container of sugar, but doesn't put either into his cup for now. He hears Levi behind him and setting something down, and turns to examine it.

Carefully, he unwraps the cloth - why destroy when one can re-use it - and opens the box. He smiles a little at the collection of tea tins after he unwraps it, looking at Levi. "Is this your ... apologitea?"

"...sounds likely." Him on the edge of decline, her coming upon her prime. Levi doesn't know that she'll be able to pin him down in his exhaustion on a roof he hasn't seen yet, hasn't felt the direct force of her strength in a most desperate contest. Even with a couple decades on him, Kenny had still given him a fucking run for his money. He'll never not be lethal, but compared to a younger Ackerman, he'd eventually lose.

"I'm sorry she's gone, too," he offers quietly. There hasn't been time to really think about it until now.

Jean snaps back some of the moroseness of the moment with...that.

Levi gives him a flat stare similar to one usually reserved for Erwin's inanities, but the corner of his mouth betrays him a little, twitching briefly.

"Yeah, something like that. Best I could do on short notice."

"Well, it wasn't necessary, but apologitea accepted," Jean says with a wider smile on his lips. That's a familiar look on Levi, to him - a flat stare betraying some amusement. He's seen it often, directed at himself or Hange, while sitting over plans; training, expansion of the railroad, eventually the invasion of Marley...

He shakes off the memory, a twinge in his chest thinking of Captain Hange, and smiles down at the tea. He lifts the tin of Darjeeling.

"This one today, maybe?"

That recognition there is deeply appreciated underneath a shallow, meaningless surface annoyance; there's an easiness to his interactions with Jean now, in a way that few others seem to be able to do. Despite the miscalculation that led them both to this moment, Jean seems to have gotten to that point where he can understand the full meaning behind what Levi tries to convey, even (especially when) he does so clumsily.

It's nice to not have to work so hard at it.

Levi wants to argue that of course it's necessary, because he fucking stomped Jean's ribs in, but it'll start the previous exchange all over again. They both understand one another for now, and that's the important part...even if he'll go out of his way to avoid stepping on anything that could remind him of bones for a while. Maybe forever - we'll just have to see.

Levi notes Jean's selection and flicks a look at him after a moment.

"Have you been making this one much yourself lately?"

"Not this blend specifically," Jean admits after a moment, reading over the tin, noting the season it says it's grown in. "But we have some in the house - I like the fruity flavor."

A musky tea balanced with notes of bitterness, of course that's something Jean enjoys. He's well aware he enjoys wine - that's not remotely what Darjeeling reminds him of, but he knows it's made with grapes. It makes sense he'd gravitate to this as well.

The kettle whistles behind them, and Jean turns, flicking off the knob on the stove to give the water time to settle.

"Thought you might." Jean has a good sense for quality things, which Levi appreciates. He also might have brought it up because he figures Jean might have tried it for...other reasons. Ones that begin with a D and end with 'olph.'

He goes about measuring out the tea into strainers, strainers into cups, and then finally the water, which is now a perfect touch below boiling hot so as not to burn the leaves. If Jean has a timer of some sort nearby, he'll punch in four and a half minutes.

A few more moments pass before Levi picks up the conversation again. There's a bit of something not quite hesitancy or trepidation, but deeper than simple concern.

"Jean...I want to ask you about Eren."

There's a digital timer tucked away somewhere that Jean has learned how to use. It's great for managing the multiple dishes he now works on for Thermo, but - next to the counter is a standard hourglass timer, with little indents indicating how much time has passed by the level of the sand. Whichever Levi finds, he's free to use. (Apparently some creature comforts are hard to let go of, though.)

Jean produces two glass containers, one of biscotti - a recipe he's trying out - and some softer scones, putting them on a small plate to go with their tea. When Levi speaks again, mentioning Eren, there's the slightest pause to his movements. His shoulders stiffen just a little - but when he finishes and turns, it's not because he's uncomfortable. He looks more like he's girding himself for a difficult conversation.

"I don't know how much I can answer, but go ahead," he says.

Levi reaches for the hourglass and flips it. Electric things still get some amount of suspicion (except for the cleaning appliances), so he tends toward the mechanical options when possible. The little pastries get a look of interest - Jean really has been busy, it seems, and in a way it tingles a little bit more...hope, contentment, back into his chest. Eren will never truly settle, but at least, maybe, Jean still can. Maybe none of them ever really will, not fully; at least, Levi knows there is still more that he has to do, and it might feel strangely like betrayal to live as though it'll never happen.

Maybe.

He sees Jean tense, and that's almost all he needs to know; something tells him that it doesn't have anything to do with Eren's recent carelessness that got him stuck through the leg. That thought twists unpleasantly - they've both put him through a shit ton of unnecessary pain lately.

Levi feels his jaw tense, has to force himself to relax it before speaking again. His voice is even, as it usually is, but there's definitely detectable worry in his words and the crease of his brow.

"You're the only one of us aside from him who's experienced everything. I just want to know...what you think about how he's doing here. So much shit has happened in the last few months, and his behavior is changing." And yet in so many ways, it isn't. It's confusing and heartbreaking at once. "You told me before a little of what he was like before the rumbling. What do you see now?"

Jean's expression changes almost instantly - going from cautious to something sadder, his gaze falling down to the floor. It's not that he can't meet Levi's gaze, it's that it's hard to look at him and realize how much Eren really hasn't changed.

".... He's more like he was before the rumbling happened than he is where he came from," Jean says somberly, looking up at Levi. "At this point, the only real difference is in their physical age - he has the same withdrawn look, the same pain around him. I..."

Jean holds Levi's gaze, hoping he understands how painful it is for him to admit this.

"... I think he's always going to end up that way," he finally admits, the words like grit in his mouth. "Raging against an imaginary cage, and unhappy. Finding enemies in the darkness and placing himself against the world to defeat them."

Edited 2024-08-14 13:07 (UTC)

...it's the answer he'd expected, but even so, the confirmation doesn't ache any less. Levi feels that pit in his chest open wider, burrow deeper, and it seems fucking bottomless. He can only hold Jean's gaze for a heartbeat or two longer before his eyes draw away, resigned. Sorrowful.

Maybe in some way it should be a relief; that this was just how it would end up, no matter what any of them tried to do, including Eren. Maybe it should be freeing, to know that it wasn't that they'd fucked up only once, that in the end there isn't anything he could have done differently.

But he can't feel anything above the pull of that endless hole, swallowing hope.

"...I see." The words barely make it out, like glass in his throat.

It scrapes down as he swallows, fingers curling under his palm against the counter.

"So what will you do?" It's difficult, but not impossible to think that the bond between Jean and Eren now could be broken. This place has a funny way of reordering priorities, relationships...as small as it is.

When Levi looks away, Jean does as well. Their expressions are mirrors of each other it seems; resigned, apologetic over the situation that Eren has found himself in. Jean wishes Reiner had been right - that Eren had any chance of changing what he would become. Not this time, it seems.

When Levi asks what he'll do he looks out the window in the kitchen, exhaling softly. Then he moves, deliberate, to reach out and take one of the cups of tea, still hot, and cup it in his hands.

"I promised I'd stay by his side no matter what," he tells Levi. "I made that promise - to him, and to Mikasa."

He closes his eyes for a moment. He knows this means he's signing some portion of his happiness away. He won't ever be the person that Dolph needs him to be. One day, that might mean he loses him for good.

"It doesn't mean I'll let him get away with anything he wants, though. I told him... if I needed to, I'd kill him."

Again goes unsaid, but when Jean opens his eyes there's a wry smile on his lips.

"It seemed to make him feel better, at least."

There's no external reaction to that declaration, except for perhaps the way the steady sinking of his heart likewise continues to pull at his expression. So it might come to that (again), after all. The original task he'd accepted in that very first hour of meeting him, the sole condition of his survival: that if he ever becomes a real threat, Captain Levi, Humanity's Strongest, would be able to put him down.

It's something he's always been prepared to do, but hoped he never would. Levi still carries that hope, and he won't put it down unless Eren forces his hand. It's just becoming more and more likely that he will.

That, too, might be inevitable. Even Eren knows it, and he'll still do it.

Somnius isn't home; Erwin is home. Jean is home. Eren, too. Somnius is just the strange place they've all found themselves in and needed to build a life, for better or worse. Levi knows Eren would tear it down if he feels it's in the way of his freedom, if given the chance. But even disregarding his own wishes, there are other people here with no other chances than this, people who can find relative comforts here than they would otherwise - people who would die, all for Eren's personal wish fulfillment. That, more than anything, Levi can't allow to happen.

He also isn't ready to give up the things that he has now. He'll have the rest of his life to be without them and no memory of this place to hold onto then. Levi realizes that Eren will always see a cage no matter where he looks, but that doesn't mean everyone else is trapped with him, or must suffer his consequences.

After several long, quiet moments, Levi reaches and takes the other cup, raising it to his lips to take a careful sip. Tea here is still better most anything he could get his hands on inside the walls.

"You won't have to do it alone." Because he could never leave killing someone you love solely to Jean. His gaze returns to the younger man, deadly, achingly serious. "Eren was once my responsibility. If it comes to that, we'll do it together."

Eren is the sun to his moon, Jean sometimes thinks. Always orbiting each other but never actually crossing. People are drawn into his orbit - people like Floch, and Mikasa. Others from other worlds too, like Aubrey. Armin is charismatic but Eren has his own energy, as flawed as it might be.

And, one day, he's read, the sun will go out. He's already lived through it once. The sun can't be contained no matter what they do - and Eren will never accept anything he thinks of as a cage.

He's trying, that much is obvious to Jean. He's trying to be content with the situation. Sooner, or later, he'll burst like a powder keg. The only question is how large an impact it will make. Will it just be a small fight, or something bigger?

Levi's words, though, offered seriously - words he's sure the Levi of the future had time to say as well - make him exhale sharply. The fingers holding the cup tighten, but he sets it down before he could even dream of doing any damage to the set.

The clink of porcelain against counter feels loud, in the quiet of the house. Jean shifts his gaze to meet Levi's, expression pained but just as determined. An expression Levi has likely seen before, in the young man resolving to kill to defend his friends.

Jean tries to find words, fails; swallows and starts again. "Thank you," is what he ends up managing to say. It feels like not enough for the grief Levi offers to shoulder the burden of. There's so much pain in Levi's future that he genuinely hopes it never comes to that here, to having to put Eren down. For everyone's sake.

That memory is less further away for Levi than it is Jean; perhaps only Mikasa had been able to accept that reality so readily. He readily remembers that resistance, and later moving to full comprehension when that time so quickly came to pass. It is not a bad thing, to be resistant to killing another person, but their survival had depended on his young team being willing to do what's necessary.

Killing someone you care for, love, can feel even more unfathomable.

Jean doesn't have to say anything more; the weight of that understanding and shared burden passes easily between them. They both have held more than their fair share of pain in their lives, but also in this Levi is well adapted to carrying it. It'll never make it hurt any less, and some wounds will never heal. But it is something he knows he can do better than most. Much like violence. Much like killing.

If it's within his power to do it so someone else doesn't have to, he will. For Jean, it's never a question.

Eren is trying; even Levi can see it. Truthfully, he's never seen anyone more tenacious, perhaps outside himself. But it might not be enough.

Perhaps nothing will be.

He reaches to set a hand on Jean's shoulder (someday he'll grouse at how much they've all grown, even though the fact that he'll get to do that at all is precious in and of itself), and just offers a brief, affirming squeeze, gray eyes solemn and intent, before going back to his tea.

inbox | labyrinthum

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the parcel I immediately forgot about because I knew I would-

what's in the booooox

something entirely predictable-

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end?