Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d seen it the day before yesterday, displayed front and center in one of the shop windows they’d passed by.

A beautiful, felt bowler hat. Onyan had stopped to admire it. He’d said the color was burgundy. To Levi, it looked like a deep red, almost purple. He guesses that’s what burgundy was. Well, he’d been able to tell Onyan wanted it, but then he’d kept walkin’, pushin’ Levi’s chair down the street, and hadn’t said another word about it.

Levi figured, if Onyan wasn’t gonna’ treat himself, he’d do it for him. Onyan’s birthday was coming up soon, just a couple weeks away, and he figured it’d make the perfect gift, especially given the way he’d been struggling to think of something. Beyond that, he also wanted to give Onyan something nice for their engagement. Onyan’d spent all that damned money on his ring, and Levi knows enough to understand that’s standard practice when people get engaged. Still, it didn’t seem right, for him to get somethin’ so nice, and for Onyan to not get anything.

So, he’d told Onyan earlier that he was going out on an errand. Onyan, of course, had wanted to come, had offered to come, and Levi had had to lie a little and tell him he wanted to try venturing out on his own for once.

Onyan had looked suspicious, and he’d been worried. Levi guesses he can’t blame him. He hasn’t gone out on his own since the stroke, definitely not since getting outta’ the hospital this last time… He wasn’t exactly inspiring confidence. He was weak, still, lost his breath just wheelin’ himself ‘round the house, and he continued to have trouble breathing, even a couple months after his illness. Being outside made it worse, with all the pollution and pollen and shit, cloggin’ up the air. He has a portable nebulizer, called an inhaler. Small enough to carry around in his pocket. He figures he’ll be alright, even if he has an attack.

Anyway, he used to go out by himself all the time.

He knew these streets.

He was doing better, now. He was. And he’d pleaded his case to Onyan pretty convincingly, he thinks.

He was 40 years old, was gonna’ be 41 soon enough. He didn’t want to be treated like a child the rest of his life. Onyankopon had agreed, reluctantly, and allowed him to go on his own.

He could do this. He knew the way to the shop from his house. He remembered it. Remembered the exact route he and Onyan had taken a couple days before.

He would buy the hat and surprise Onyan with it come his birthday.

It’s a weekend, so there’s lots of people out on the walkways and streets, and Levi has to tell himself it’s okay. Has to ignore the stupid pounding of his heart against his ribs at the crush of bodies around him.

He’d faced down almost 30 titans at once, once upon a time. He’d done it without fear in his heart, only sorrow.

A group of fuckin’ pedestrians shouldn’t scare him at all.

He’s relieved when he reaches the shop and sees the hat still displayed in the window. He looks at it a while, wondering how much it is, hoping he’s brought enough cash with him. It should fit Onyan, just from eyeballin’ it. He hopes, anyway. If not, maybe they can exchange it for a better size.

He struggles to get the shop door open, the thing continually slamming shut on him each time he manages to push it in and start forward, until finally someone comes and holds it for him.

Levi’s face burns, even as he mumbles out a thank you, struggling again still to get his chair up over the door jamb.

He hears someone behind him muttering something, before suddenly he feels himself lurched forward, the wheels of his chair clattering loudly over the jamb and into the shop.

Something awful shifts in Levi’s chest as he realizes the person behind him has taken hold of his chair's handles and pushed him through the entrance.

The same person brushes past him now, not even looking at him, and the heat in Levi’s face worsens, his throat tight.

That’s happened to him before. People taking hold of his chair and moving him without asking. It makes him feel sick every time it happens. Makes him feel like… like people don’t even see him. Like he ain’t a person.

He tries brushing it off now, reaching up to pull his sunglasses from his face and making his way toward the clerk working the register.

“E-excuse me,” he starts, forcing his voice steady.

Don’t trip over your words, he tells himself.

The woman looks up from a magazine she’s reading, and Levi sees the way her eyes widen at his appearance. He’s relieved when she don’t say nothin’ about it, though, instead forcing herself to smile.

“Yes, sir? How may I help you?”

Levi gestures back toward the shops’ display window.

“There’s a hat in the window I’d like to look at. A bowler hat. It… it’s b-burgundy colored.”

The woman’s face seems to light up, understanding in her eyes.

“Of course! I know the hat! Just a moment and I’ll fetch it for you.”

“Thanks,” Levi tells her softly, turning to watch her as she strides easily across the shop to the window, taking up the hat from its stand.

She smiles tightly at him as she comes back over, handing the hat to him.

Again, he sees her eyes widen at the sight of his disfigured hand, and again, she says nothing.

The felt material is soft under his fingers as he runs their tips across the brim.

There’s a lovely, black silk band fastened around the hat’s crown, contrasting nicely with its reddish tint.

Flipping it over, he looks at the inside tag and sees its measurements, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he sees they’re an exact fit for Onyan’s head size.

He looks back up at the woman.

“How much?” he asks.

“Ah, I believe that particular model is around fifty marks. I’ll have to double-check the catalog.”

It was pricey, but Levi had expected that.

He nods and waits for the woman to check the pricing. Even if it was more, he’d brought a hundred marks with him today. It should be enough.

“Yes,” she says after a moment. “Fifty marks, plus tax.” She smiles at him again.

“Okay,” Levi tells her, “I’ll take it.”

“Of course, Sir.” She nods.

“C… can I get it wrapped or… gift-wrapped?” Levi asks. “It’s a present for someone else.”

“Absolutely, Sir, that’s no trouble. Would you like a card to be included?”

Levi chews on his lower lip.

“Do I gotta’ write it myself?” he asks.

He sees the confusion on the woman’s face at the question, but her friendly attitude remains.

“If you like, you can, or I can write it out for you.”

Levi nods.

“That second one. Just say… can it just say, ‘To Onyankopon, l-love Levi’?”

He feels a pang of hesitation at the words, even as they leave his lips, a sudden fear at what he’ll see in the woman’s face. Disgust or disapproval. He knows lots of people don’t have no love or tolerance for men like him and Onyan.

But the woman doesn’t even flinch, only smiling widely at him.

“Of course, Sir. If I could just get a spelling on that first name?”

She pulls out a card, pen poised over it, waiting.

Levi can give her that. He knows how to spell Onyan’s name. He tells her the letters with confidence.

Her writing’s much nicer than his own. A straight, cursive script.

“Is it extra?” he asks, ready to pay more, but the woman shakes her head.

“No charge, Sir. Let me just ring you up here.”

The total comes to a little over fifty-five marks. The woman places the hat in a nice, white hatbox, wrapping the whole thing in a blue and silver paper. She does a nice job, the folds and creases perfect and clean.

Levi thinks Onyan’ll be so happy, and he’s excited, suddenly, to get back home and hide it away. He thinks under the bed should do until he gives it to Onyan later. He just hopes he’ll be able to sneak into the house through the back, so Onyan don’t see he’s got a package.

He thanks the woman again, and she asks if he needs any sort of help carrying the package out.

Levi shakes his head.

He came prepared, slipping the box into the bag hooked to his chair’s back, the same method he’s always used whenever he’s gone shopping on his own.

Still, the woman is kind enough to hold the door open for him as he exits the shop, and tells him she hopes he has a good day, tells him she hopes Onyankopon likes his gift.

He tries smilin’ at her, tries expressing his gratitude. He don’t know how good a job he does, but he hopes she understands.

Getting back out onto the street, Levi replaces his sunglasses and checks the bag again, makin’ sure it’s secured to the back of his chair, the hatbox secured within, and once satisfied, he takes the wheels and begins back toward home.

//

Levi is lost.

He realizes it when he realizes he can’t read the street signs.

He stares and stares at ‘em and can’t make nothin’ out. The letters are there in his brain, but the order of ‘em don’t make no sense. Don’t mean nothin’ to him.

He sits there on the corner and can’t… can’t even remember how he got here. There’s people all around him, waiting on the cross sign to show, and he can’t… doesn’t know which direction he’s meant to go, doesn’t… doesn’t remember which way is home.

His heart starts to pound too fast against his ribs, sweat breakin’ out across his face.

Why can’t he read the signs? What’s wrong with him? He… he’d read ‘em fine on the way here. He’d read ‘em, he’d known what they said…

His hands begin to shake, and he balls them into fists, pressing them against his knees.

Suddenly, the din of voices surrounding him turns distant and vague, like they’re coming from beneath the ground. He can’t make out none of it. Doesn’t know what anyone’s sayin’.

The sun beats down on his head like some smothering blanket, heavy and awful, and Levi lifts a trembling hand, trying to shield his eyes. His glasses aren’t enough. The light comes pourin’ through the lenses, searing and painful.

His head hurts, a migraine beginning to form, pounding in his temples, nausea in the back of his throat.

How did he get here? He can’t… can’t even remember why he left the house…

He wishes desperately now that he hadn’t.

He’d been so fuckin’ confident. Had told Falco and Gabi that he’d be fine on his own… Or, no, it’d been Onyan he’d told. Onyan who’d offered to go with him. He was just… just…

What? What had he been plannin’ on?

He can’t remember, and it scares him. It scares him that he can’t read the street signs. He’d practiced so long and hard to be able to at least read that.

The people around him begin to shift and sway, lurching forward, and the nausea in his throat threatens against the backs of his teeth, mouth thick with saliva.

He can’t throw up. Not here. Not out here.

He’s shaken from his thoughts by a sudden, violent jarring of his chair, nearly tumbling him from the seat of it. His hands shoot out, grabbing hold of the armrests, white-knuckled as he drags himself back.

“Watch it! Damned cripple!” Someone sneers down at him, but Levi can’t see who, the rush of bodies surging forward too thick for him to make anyone out.

His palms grow damp, memory flashing through his mind, then, the horrible feel of feet slamming all around him, the crushing sound of it, unseeing, trapped on the ground and helpless. Knocked there, unable to keep his feet.

He can’t keep his feet now. He can’t even stand. If he… if he falls again, if he falls, he’ll be crushed. There won’t be anyone to save him, now. Onyan isn’t here. He won’t be able…

He thinks, what if I have a seizure now? What if?

Thinks, maybe… maybe he already has, and he just don’t remember… don’t recall…

God… he might’a already and the thought has his mouth dry…

His brain was shortin’ out, and he couldn’t…

His chair shifts, jerked suddenly to the side, pulling him with it.

Someone’s grabbed it. Someone has the handles and is moving him.

Levi tries turning to see who it is, his spine protesting the movement. For an instant, there’s hope in his heart. Some vague belief he’ll look, and it’ll be Onyan there, or one of the kids. They’ll have somehow found him, despite the seeming impossibility of it.

Only it isn’t Onyan, or anyone else he knows.

It’s some man he’s never seen before, his face twisted in annoyance as he shifts Levi out of the way and then brushes past him, crossing the street.

Levi’s heart thuds, sick in his chest, the rush of blood in his ears.

He doesn’t know how to get home.

He’s lost.

He’s lost and doesn’t know… doesn’t know how to get back, how to find his way back to Onyan, or the kids, or anything he knows.

Tears burn his eyes, and he reaches up, hand trembling as he pulls his glasses clumsily from his face, shaking so hard that the thin, metal rims slip from his grasp, falling to the ground.

He stares at them, there on the pavement, just beyond his grasp.

Everything’s beyond his grasp, he thinks. Even home.

He can’t find his way back, and nobody… nobody’s gonna’ help. Nobody even notices him. They just keep… just keep passin’ by, not even lookin’… not even seein’…

Someone bumps into his chair, jolting him forward, and Levi’s hands again grip the arms, heart kicking harder against his ribs, stale fear against his tongue.

The sound of something cracking fills his ears. Something breaking.

He looks down and sees his glasses, shattered and crushed against the pavement.

Sees the feet of a man dragging the broken glass underneath his heel as he keeps going, unaware, uncaring.

He’s lost, and there’s no way for him back home.

No chance for him to find his way there.

//

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?”

There’s a hand on his shoulder. Someone shaking him.

Levi don’t know how long he’s been out here. Don’t know…

His head pounds with a crushing migraine, white spots floating in his vision. He feels dizzy and sick, the sun burning him alive. He can feel his shirt, drenched in his sweat, clinging horribly to his skin. His breath rattles inside his chest, saliva thick in his mouth. His back has begun to seize up, his spine on fire, hips aching viciously. He’ll throw up, he thinks. He thinks, maybe, he already has.

“Sir? Can you speak?”

The hand on his shoulder jostles him again and Levi looks up.

It’s some man he’s never seen before. A young man. Maybe 25, 26 years old. Levi don’t know him.

Something awful shifts in his chest. Something like fear.

He blinks and feels something warm and wet trail down his cheeks.

His mouth falls open to ask what time it is.

He don’t know how long he’s been out here.

“Sir? Oh, you poor man… you’ve been out here a long time, haven’t you?”

“D… don’t know,” Levi finally manages, voice a dry whisper. “Can’t… can’t remember how long. Came in the mornin’…. Came…”

The man frowns at him, a worried look.

“It’s half an hour past noon, Sir. You’re pretty badly sunburnt. We need to get you out of this heat.”

The man looks away, then, looking around them.

“I can’t believe no one’s helped you,” he seems to mutter to himself, before turning back to Levi. “Are you lost?”

Levi blinks.

Lost.

Yeah… that was it. He was lost. He’d… he’d come out on his own for somethin’… somethin’… and then he hadn’t known where he was anymore. Hadn’t known how to get back home.

He nods, and the man nods back, like he expected it.

“Do you have a home? Some place I can take you?”

Home. Yes. He has a home. He knows where. He… he just doesn’t know how to get there from here.

“I have… h-have a home,” he says, and the man nods again.

“I’ll take you there. I have a car. I can take you.”

Levi can barely think through the crushing pain in his head.

He don’t know this man. Don’t know him. He thinks, suddenly, thinks… if this man wanted, he could take him. He could steal Levi away some place… could kill him even, maybe. He don’t know this man at all.

Did he say it was half past noon?

Levi had checked his watch sometime before.

He remembers. He’d looked at it. Remembers it had read 11:00 AM.

Has he been sitting here that long?

Nausea turns in his gut, sudden and sharp, thick bile coming up his throat.

He turns away and throws up onto the pavement.

Oh, God…

Shame burns through the pain in his head, the agony in his back. He begins to shake.

The man’s hand on his shoulder is on his back, then, rubbing firm circles between the blades of his shoulders.

“That’s alright, Sir. Hey… my name’s Leon. Do you want to tell me yours?”

Levi lifts a trembling hand, wiping drunkenly at his mouth, disgusted at the thick string of saliva and vomit that pulls away.

He swallows, and swallows again.

“L… Levi,” he answers weakly. “I’m Levi.”

“Hi Levi,” the man greets. “Hey… will you let me take you home, Levi? I have a car. We can load your chair into the boot, no problem.”

Levi don’t know this man, but he seemed kind. He… he was the only person… the only one who’d stopped to help…

Maybe he was a killer. Maybe he stopped to help ‘cause he saw Levi was an easy target. Maybe he’d take him away in his car, take him away some place wouldn’t nobody ever find him. Maybe he’d torture him and kill him, then.

But… the man has kind eyes. When Levi looks back at him… He has kind eyes. Truthful eyes. Levi can’t see no deceit in ‘em.

And what the hell choice did he have, anyway?

Couldn’t… couldn’t get home on his own. Didn’t know where he was, no more. Didn’t know the way.

He nods. He nods without thinking no more about it.

And then he’s bursting into tears. He can’t help it.

Nobody stopped to help.

Nobody helped him.

He was lost and nobody… nobody cared. Nobody helped.

He covers his face with his hands, shame choking his throat.

But the man, Leon… he don’t say nothin’ about it. Just has his arm around Levi’s shoulders, squeezing him tight.

“It’s okay,” he says. “You’re okay now, Levi. Hey, let’s get you home, huh?”

And Levi nods again.

“Thank you,” he sobs. He knows he sounds pathetic. Knows he is. But he can’t care. He just wants to go home. Just wants to see Onyan and the kids. Just wants to be with them again.

Leon gives his shoulders another squeeze, and then they’re moving, his chair shifting forward, smooth and easy.

Leon asks him where he lives, and Levi gives him the address.

“Can you stand at all?” Leon asks when they reach his car. It’s expensive lookin’, and Levi wonders if the man is wealthy.

“I… I dunno. Not really,” Levi admits softly.

Leon tells him that’s okay.

“I’ll lift you into the car. Is that okay?”

Levi nods, holding on as Leon picks him up easily out of his chair, gentle as he settles Levi into the passenger side seat.

“My grandpa uses a wheelchair, so I’m used to all this.” Leon smiles at him, leaning down to look at him in the car.

Levi realizes how big this kid is, then. Gotta’ be six foot three, at least. Looks as big as Jean.

Levi swallows, and nods.

“Thank you,” he whispers again, and means it.

He hopes Leon understands how much he means it.

Leon’s big hand comes to rest on his shoulder again, squeezing.

“It’s no trouble, Levi. Just give me a minute to get your chair loaded into the back, and then we’ll get you home.”

Levi tries smiling back, but he thinks it probably just looks like a grimace.

He realizes, finally bein’ outta’ the sun, how much his skin hurts. Leon’d said he was sunburnt, hadn’t he?

God, he probably looks like such a freak.

“Oh, you have a package here, Levi.” Leon is back suddenly, holding out a box to him. “It was in the bag on the back of your chair?”

Levi blinks down at it, and remembers, suddenly. Remembers what he’d come out for. The hat. The bowler hat he’d wanted to buy for Onyan as a gift.

That was it. That was why.

He takes the box, holding it in his lap.

His hands shake around it, and he grits his teeth.

He’d wanted to surprise Onyan. Wanted to get him somethin’ nice and surprise him.

Couldn’t even do that right, he guesses.

Couldn’t do nothin’ right on his own.

//

“I’m going out to find him,” Onyankopon announces, standing from where he’s been worrying on the couch.

He can’t take this anymore. Can’t just sit here.

Levi had said, before leaving, he’d be about 45 minutes, and instead, it’s been almost two hours. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong, and Onyankopon feels sick at the thought.

He shouldn’t have let Levi go on his own.

He shouldn’t have done that.

He just… he knows how much Levi values his independence. He’d wanted to give him a chance to do something on his own, for once. To help encourage him. He’d thought it would be okay. If Levi stayed in the neighborhood, didn’t stray far. It was a small enough community; most people here knew Levi. Would recognize him.

But now, he can’t stop thinking… What if Levi had been kidnapped? What if he’d gotten lost or injured and couldn’t make it back home? What if…

He shoves the fear down, gritting his teeth.

He needed to go out there and find him. He needed to find him now.

“We’ll go with you,” Gabi says.

“Okay,” Onyankopon agrees. More than one person searching for Levi would help find him quicker. “But, one of you should stay here, in case he comes back. Falco?”

“I’ll stay.” The boy nods.

Onyankopon doesn’t bother taking a jacket, wanting to get out onto the streets as quickly as possible.

He pulls the front door open, anxiety tipping over, awful scenarios of where Levi might be, of what might have happened, playing like one of those picture shows in his brain.

Only he doesn’t make it more than a step out onto the front stoop before he freezes, staring wide-eyed ahead of him.

For a moment, he thinks his mind is playing tricks on him, and then, a relief so powerful, it nearly puts him down.

There’s a man he’s never seen before, pulling what he recognizes as Levi’s wheelchair from the trunk of his car, and in the passenger side seat, he sees Levi himself.

Onyankopon stumbles forward, down the walkway, rushing for the car.

He doesn’t stop for the man unloading Levi’s chair, only hurries around to the passenger side, throwing the door open.

Doesn’t say a word as he reaches in and gathers Levi into his arms, lifting him up against his chest, holding him tight.

He feels Levi cling back to him, arms around his neck, face buried against his shoulder.

“My baby,” Onyankopon whispers, pressing kisses against his head. “My baby, my baby.”

Levi is shaking. He can feel it. His body trembling violently.

They just cling to each other like that for long minutes, until Onyankopon finally feels his knees lose strength, and he sinks slowly to the pavement, Levi still held in his arms.

He doesn’t know what happened. Doesn’t know who this man is that brought Levi back to him. But he knows he has to thank him. Has to say something.

He’s just so overwhelmed to have Levi safe with him again. To have him here and safe.

He’d really thought… he’d been so scared something awful had happened…

Finally, he pulls back, still holding Levi, really looking at him finally.

His entire face is beet-red with sunburn, his hair and shirt soaked through with sweat. Lines of stress mar his features.

God, what the hell had happened?

“I’m sorry to interrupt.”

He looks up and sees the man who’d been unloading Levi’s chair.

He has it now, set up and waiting, and Onyankopon feels another rush of relief and gratitude.

He stands again, arms secure underneath Levi as he lifts him, carrying him to the chair and setting him down carefully.

Gabi and Falco have come out, too, standing near, eyes wide with questions.

Onyankopon makes sure Levi is settled before turning to the man, looking up at him.

The man smiles, holding out a hand, and Onyankopon quickly takes it.

“You must be Onyankopon,” he greets. “Levi here told me all about you on the ride over.”

Onyankopon nods, a dazed feeling in his head.

“Yes,” he answers, “I’m… I’m Levi’s caretaker and his partner.”

The man nods, understanding.

“I’m Leon. I found him stranded on the corner of 5th and Main,” he explains, seeming to read the question in Onyankopon’s eyes. “He’d become lost, I think, and nobody was stopping to help him. I thought it was unusual that he was by himself, so I thought… someone should do something.”

Something awful uncurls in Onyankopon’s gut, a sick regret and pain.

He’d known he shouldn’t have let Levi go out on his own like that. He’d known that, and he’d let himself be convinced anyway.

Guilt tears at his heart.

“How… how long was he out there for?” he asks, voice shaking.

Levi’s burnt skin told him enough. It must have been for over an hour.

The man… Leon… shakes his head.

“I’m not sure,” he answers. “Levi said he couldn’t remember how he got there and that he couldn’t read the street signs. I think he must have been there since late morning before I found him.”

Onyankopon’s eyes burn, and he looks away a moment, trying to compose himself.

He needed to get Levi inside. Get him some liquids. He must be badly dehydrated, at the least.

“I’m grateful,” Onyankopon tells Leon thickly, turning back to him. “I’m so grateful. Thank you… thank you for helping him.”

“It was my pleasure”—Leon smiles tightly—“though I think we should probably get him inside now. His breathing seems a bit labored to me.”

A spike of dread works through Onyankopon at the words.

Levi’s lungs were fragile, now, from all the trauma they’d suffered, from years earlier, and more recently still, with the pneumonia and the collapses.

Any sort of issue with his breathing was cause for concern.

He thinks, if it persists, he’ll have to call a doctor to come look him over.

“Will you come in?” Onyankopon asks Leon. “The least I can do is offer you some lunch.”

“I’d be honored,” Leon tells him, “if I’m not imposing?”

Onyankopon shakes his head, turning to the kids.

They’re gathered around Levi now, fussing over him.

He knows Levi’ll want to get out of those sweaty clothes, too, maybe take a shower.

He hopes Gabi and Falco can keep Leon entertained while he deals with all that.

“Ah, also”—Leon starts, and Onyankopon turns, watching as he goes back to his car, reaching inside to pull a package from the seat—“he had this with him.”

He hands the box over to Onyankopon.

It’s gift-wrapped, something large, but relatively light.

Onyankopon frowns down at it.

Levi had it with him?

Had he gone out to buy a gift?

The thought has Onyankopon’s heart sinking.

“W-was s’posed to be a surprise.” He hears Levi behind him, the first time he’s spoken in all this time, voice distant and weak, and he turns, seeing Lee looking back at him, brow crumpled. “Guess it don’t matter, now.”

The sinking in his heart turns crushing, then, the tears he’d been holding back finally slipping free.

“Oh, Lee,” he breathes softly.

Levi looks away, shrugs.

“You can open it, if you want. I was gonna’… was gonna’ give it to you for your birthday…”

He trails off.

“We’ll save it for later, okay, Lee?” Onyankopon says, lifting a hand to wipe at his eyes. “Let’s… let’s get you inside, first, and get you taken care of.”

//

He gets Levi undressed and in the shower quickly, keeping the temperature a little cooler, hoping it might help soothe his irritated skin.

They’ve been sitting in the spray a few minutes already, but Levi won’t look at him, and it has Onyankopon worried.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he finally asks, gently, lathering the sponge against Lee’s chest.

His breathing had at least seemed to ease, his trembling lessening visibly.

He’d gotten Levi to take some painkillers, once he’d gotten him to the back and into the bedroom, and Levi hadn’t complained, so Onyankopon had known he was hurting. He’d also gotten him to drink a couple cups of water and was going to have him drink more once they were out of the shower.

Levi shrugs, and is silent so long, Onyankopon thinks he won’t actually speak.

“… I got lost, Onyan,” he finally says, voice hardly more than a whisper. “I couldn’t… couldn’t read the street signs. Th-the words, they got all jumbled in my head, and then I... I panicked. I couldn’t… couldn’t figure out how to get home, so I just froze there, and nobody was helpin’, Onyan. Nobody helped, and I couldn’t… didn’t know how to ask… I… I was scared… I was scared…”

Tears fill Levi’s eyes suddenly, slipping free and down his cheeks, and Onyankopon reaches out, pulling him against his chest, cupping the back of his head.

“I know, Lee,” he says. “It’s okay. I know.”

“I’m so fuckin’ useless, Onyan. I can’t… I thought I could do it. I thought I’d be okay out there, but I… I get fuckin’ scared when there’s too many people around now. I get… I get to feelin’ overwhelmed, and my brain don’t work right. It don’t work right no more… I don’t know what happened. If… if I just got confused or if I had a seizure or somethin’… I can’t remember things… I try… I wanna’ remember… but it’s like a fuse’s blown or somethin’… I didn’t… didn’t use to get this way… didn’t used to be so scared all the time…”

Onyankopon squeezes his eyes shut, bending down and pressing kisses to the crown of Levi’s head.

He wishes he knew what to say. Wishes he could tell Levi that things would get better. That his memory would improve, that the medication he was on would prevent him from suffering any more seizures.

But they both knew that probably wasn’t going to happen at this point.

He’d suffered a severe brain injury, and it was likely as healed as it was ever going to be.

Just like his body would never work quite as well as it once had before the stroke, and all the trauma that followed.

“It’s okay to be scared, Lee,” Onyankopon tells him now. “You’ve been through so much. I think… I think it’s only natural to be afraid, when you’ve lost so much in your life, and… you aren’t useless. Levi, you aren’t. We all get lost, sometimes. Whether that’s literally or metaphorically… Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.” He laughs weakly, and feels Levi shudder against him. Again, he kisses his crown. “You know, I think you were so brave, going out there on your own today. And to… to get me a gift. Levi… I’m always so proud of you. I’m proud to be with you.”

He feels Levi turn his face aside, pressing his cheek to his shoulder.

“… I’m proud to be with you, too,” he whispers, “and I… I hope you like your gift. I wanted it to be a surprise, Onyan.”

There’s a warmth in Onyankopon’s chest, then, and he wonders, not for the first time, how he ever got so lucky to end up with such a loving man

“It can still be a surprise, Lee.” He lifts a hand, carding his fingers through Levi’s hair. “I don’t know what you got me, after all. I’m excited to see.”

“Yeah?” Levi looks up at him, then, and Onyankopon smiles.

“Yeah.” He cups Levi’s cheek against his palm, careful against the burn “… Hey, you wanna’ get outta’ here? We probably shouldn’t keep your savior waiting so long.”

Levi huffs, eyes skirting away.

“… Yeah, I guess not,” he admits softly.

//

“Someone’s excited to see you,” Onyankopon teases as Fizzie comes running across the bedroom floor, leaping up into Levi’s lap.

“Shut up,” Levi says, even as he can’t help the soft tug at the corner of his mouth, a warmth in his chest as Fizzie stands up on his hind legs and puts his paws on Levi’s shoulders, rubbing his face against his chin.

He can’t admit it out loud, but the little animal always manages to make him feel safer. Makes him feel connected and grounded. Animals don’t judge; they don’t get no negative thoughts about you if you don’t give ‘em a reason to. They just accept.

Levi knows he ain’t gotta’ worry about Fizzie thinkin’ he’s ugly, or stupid, or pathetic. Don’t gotta’ worry about the cat hatin’ him for bein’ a failure.

Levi’s happy he could give the little guy a home. Happy he could give somethin’ back for Fizzie bein’ his friend.

He runs his hand along the animal’s back, scratching under his chin and along his jowls, and Fizzie begins to purr, kneading at his pants.

He bends forward, kissing the little cat’s head, Fizzie meowing up at him.

“I’m going to put some ointment on your sunburn, okay, sweetheart?” Onyankopon tells him, holding up the jar of cream.

Levi nods.

He hates that shit. It always feels so oily on his skin. But… he knows he needs it. Knows it’ll make him feel better.

So, he sits still, still holding Fizzie on his lap, as Onyan lathers the gunk onto his face, working it gently into the skin, and Levi has to admit the coolness of it feels nice against the aching burns.

Onyan works some into the skin of his hands, too, massaging it between his fingers and knuckles, and Levi’s eyes slip closed.

He feels so much better now, after taking a shower, gettin’ all the sweat and grime washed off. After takin’ his meds. His migraine was finally starting to go, the pain in his back and hips lessening to something manageable.

He’s so relieved to be back home. To be with Onyan and the kids.

He’s not ashamed to admit that to himself.

He’d been so afraid out there. He’d thought… and he knows it’s not rational… but he’d been so afraid he might never make it home again. Might never see Onyan or the kids again. Thought he might die out there from the heat. Thought his lungs might give out, or his head might explode. His migraine had started to get so bad, he really thought… maybe his brain was bleedin’ or somethin’…

He don’t know what would’ve happened if Leon hadn’t come by when he did. He thinks he at least woulda’ passed out, eventually, and then…

He doesn’t really wanna’ think on it, though.

Not anymore.

He was home now, and he was grateful.

He just wants to be here with Onyan and the kids and try to relax. Try and enjoy bein’ here, safe and clean and okay.

He’s okay, now.

He don’t think he’ll be leavin’ anywhere on his own for a while, though. Not again. He don’t… don’t think he can handle it again.

Fizzie stays on his lap as Onyan wheels Levi forward, out into the hallway.

He can hear the soft filter of voices coming from the kitchen, and he tamps down his nervousness.

Leon was a nice man. A good man.

Levi had spoken freely with him on the ride back to the house because he’d felt too unwell to care about what he said or how he said it. Been in too much pain and too desperate to get home to worry about what a fool he was being.

Now that he feels better, he realizes how pathetic he must have looked.

He guesses it don’t matter, though.

And Leon was a good man, he thinks. He wouldn’t hold it against Levi, for being what he is.

“Mr. Levi!” Gabi comes bounding over as soon as they enter the kitchen. “Are you feeling any better? How’s your headache?”

“It’s gettin’ better, kid.” Levi tells her. “I’m alright now.”

Gabi beams at him, bending down to give him a hug. Levi holds her back.

He don’t want these kids to be stressed out over him. He’s sorry he gave everyone such a scare. Especially given he’d nearly bought it just a couple months earlier. He feels like fuckin’ shit, lungs tight in his chest. Don’t feel like he can catch a full breath.

Guesses he shoulda’ thought of that before he decided he could handle goin’ out on his own.

Falco and Leon are talking to one another, seeming to get on well, when Onyankopon announces their presence, and Leon turns, smiling when he spots Levi.

“I hope you’re feeling better?” he asks, and Levi nods, his face a little warm.

Everyone kept fussin’ over him, kept worryin’. It’d grown more intense, ever since the hospital. He was hardly given a moment alone, these days. He guesses that’s part of why he’d pushed to go out on his own. He’d wanted… wanted to show all of ‘em he was getting better. Not just… not just physically. He was getting better in the head, too. He liked to think he was, anyway.

He could tell nobody really believed it, though. They all still looked at him with frightened eyes. He’s still tryin’ to get used to that. To people being scared for him.

Nobody ever used to be scared for him.

He knows it ‘cause they care about him, but it’s hard, sometimes, not feeling angry over it.

Sometimes, he wants to scream at everyone that he’s a grown man. He doesn’t need their help with everything.

… Only he does. He knows he does.

Knows he’s fuckin’ useless on his own.

Knows, to his unending shame, he would die without their help. Without Onyan there to care for him every day.

“And who’s this little guy?” Leon asks, smiling down at Fizzie, starting to reach out to pet him. Fizzie spits at him, pressing back against Levi’s stomach.

“That’s Fizzie.” Onyan laughs. “He’s Levi’s cat. He won’t really let anyone else pet him but Lee.”

“Ah…” Leon nods, withdrawing his hand. “He’s very cute.”

Levi curls his hand, massaging his fingers against Fizzie’s back.

“He was a stray,” he says. “He only likes me ‘cause I feed him whatever he wants.”

“No, he loves you, Mr. Levi.” Falco laughs, now. “He follows you all over the place, whether you have food or not.”

Levi knows that’s true. He feels the cat’s affection. He guesses he just couldn’t take no compliments. He huffs, scratching at Fizzie’s chin, and thinks about how much he loves the little animal, too.

He thinks, if Isabel were here, she’d be Fizzie’s favorite person instead.

Falco’s prepared tuna fish sandwiches for lunch, along with a light salad. It looks good, and Levi only now realizes how hungry he is, his stomach tight. He hasn’t eaten since earlier this morning, around 7 AM.

It’s a nice lunch. Levi forces himself to eat everything. Tries tellin’ himself not to feel guilty for it. He finds, these last, several weeks, the best motivator is fear.

He doesn’t want to end up with another tube down his throat. Not ever again. He can’t… can’t do that again.

Leon seems to enjoy it, and he tells them a little about himself. He’s only visiting Marley, here to see his parents. His work sees him traveling a lot, moving from country to country as a translator for hire. It turns out he speaks eight different languages fluently, which has Levi astonished. He could barely speak Eldian, was rudimentary at best in Marleyan.

When Leon has to finally leave, Levi feels sorry to see him go.

He wonders if he’ll ever see him again.

It was always so strange to him, meeting kind people, having these experiences with them, sometimes almost intimate experiences, and then never seeing ‘em again.

There’s somethin’ sad in that, he thinks, even as it gives him a sense of hope for somethin’ good in the world. Maybe even somethin’ better.

He hopes, wherever Leon’s travels take him, he’s met with the same kindness he’d shown Levi this day.

Chapter Text

“I recommend sending him to a sanatorium, or this is just going to happen again.”

Onyankopon blinks, and stares back at Dr. Cruize, uncomprehending.

“A sanatorium?” he hears Falco ask. “You mean an insane asylum?”

Dr. Cruize’s brow furrows.

“Essentially, yes, though a sanatorium is more focused on long-term care for physical disabilities, while also treating the mentally ill, whereas a lunatic asylum is, more strictly speaking, focused on the mentally insane. Listen, I know this is difficult to hear, but Levi is insane, as well as physically disabled, pretty severely so. His mental issues are maybe the most severe case I’ve personally come across in my career, and, frankly, I don’t think you all are likely equipped to take proper care of him at home. He needs professional, round-the-clock care. Anything less is”— the doctor pauses, a pinched look coming into her features — “well, I would say it’s unkind. He may even benefit from a new procedure recently developed called a lobotomy. Essentially, it entails severing certain connections in the brain’s pre-frontal cortex and frontal lobe. We’ve seen remarkable results since the procedure was introduced, and—”

“No,” Onyankopon cuts her off, “absolutely not. Severing connections in the frontal lobe? Are you insane?”

Dr. Cruize frowns at him.

“I know it sounds extreme, but—”

“I’ve heard about that procedure.” Falco steps in, shaking his head. “It has horrible side-effects, doesn’t it? Like making you mentally retarded or… or making you emotionless… They used it on some of the soldiers at the hospital, in Liberio… I saw what it did to them. They were like… like zombies, afterward… just blank…”

Onyankopon feels sick, head spinning. There was no way… no way in hell he was going to let them do that to Levi.

“There have been some rare cases where we’ve seen those unfortunate effects, yes, but in general, the thinking is that the benefits far outweigh the risks, given how successfully the procedure rids the patient of severe depression, which I think it’s safe to say Levi is clearly suffering from.”

“I said no,” Onyankopon half-spits, anger roiling in his gut. “We’re not doing that to him.”

Dr. Cruize sighs, steepling her hands beneath her chin.

“Alright, well, you’ll need to talk to a psychiatrist, anyway, but I at least recommend institutionalization. There are some excellent facilities available where Levi could receive proper care…”

“He doesn’t need to be put in a loony bin!” Gabi snaps. “He’s not crazy!”

“I never said he was crazy, but he is mentally unwell,” Dr. Cruize presses, an agitated tone coming into her voice. “Obviously, anyone who intentionally starves themselves is unwell. You’re all going to have to recognize that and take proper action, or Levi is going to die. I hate to be so blunt, but it’s the truth. He may be recovering now, but he’s going to relapse without intervention and monitoring. That’s how this works. Mental illness doesn’t just magically go away because we want it to.”

Onyankopon’s teeth grind together, hands curled to fists against his knees.

He wasn’t going to put Levi in an asylum. That wasn’t going to happen.

He understands Dr. Cruize means well, but she also doesn’t know Levi like he does. She doesn’t understand what something like that would do to him, being locked up like that, having all choice and control taken from him, when already he had so little control in his life.

Still, she wasn’t wrong that Levi needed help, that he would relapse if they didn’t take greater measures than what they’d been doing, leading up to his hospitalization.

“There must be other options,” he starts, trying to keep his tone level. “Something that doesn’t require him to be away from us. I know you mean well, Dr. Cruize, but it’s vital Levi stay with his family. He wouldn’t… do well, in the type of environment you’re suggesting. He wouldn’t do well.”

“Well, it’s just something to consider.” Dr. Cruize nods. “But, if you’re really set against it, the next best option is intensive outpatient therapy. Levi has someone he sees regularly, I understand. Again, you’re going to have to consult with them for a definitive treatment plan, but I’m guessing multiple sessions a week will be required, at least until his doctor feels he’s in a more stable condition.”

That had been the conversation between them and Levi’s attending physician, just before he’d been discharged from the hospital, a couple months ago, now. Afterward, he’d told Levi about it, about Dr. Cruize’s suggestion, and the look of naked horror on Levi’s face had been enough for Onyankopon to know, with certainty, that they’d made the right decision.

He’d looked stricken, face turning ghostly, eyes wide.

“Y-you ain’t gonna’… ain’t gonna’ put me in one ‘a them places, Onyan? Don’t put me in one ‘a them places, please!”

“No.” Onyankopon had shaken his head, trying to impress on Levi how against it he himself was. “I told Dr. Cruize under no circumstances.”

“I can’t… can’t be in one ‘a them places, Onyan,” Levi had gone on, almost as if he hadn’t heard him, hands wringing in anxiety. “They… they do all kinds ‘a bad shit in them places, don’t they? They… they dope you up and… and put electricity through your head. They strap you down and…”

He’d trailed off, his face growing impossibly paler, eyes overbright, and Onyankopon had pulled him against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around him, and had felt the way Levi was shaking.

He’d wished then he’d said nothing of Dr. Cruize’s suggestion, and promised over and over he would never allow Levi to end up in a place like that.

He’s only more convinced now he’d made the right decision, seeing the progress Levi’s made in the time since.

Sometimes, he imagines what might have happened to Levi, if he hadn’t had himself and the kids to look out for him.

The thought leaves him breathless with fear.

Most likely, he thinks, Levi would have ended up in a place like Dr. Cruize had recommended, surrounded by people who didn’t really care about him, who maybe even resented and hated him, trapped with them, and they would have cut his brain to pieces, and left him little more than a walking corpse.

And again, he thinks, this was all his fault. It was his fault, because he wasn’t capable of taking proper care of Levi. He’d stopped paying attention, he’d allowed him to get sick, his own, dumb optimism blinding him to reality, and now people were talking about needing Lee to be put into a hospital for the mentally insane, about needing 24-hour supervision, about performing surgeries on his brain to take away who he was…

And this latest incident, with Levi getting lost…

Onyankopon still doesn’t know what the hell he’d been thinking, allowing Levi to go out on his own like that, so soon after almost losing him.

Levi wasn’t a child, and he didn’t deserve to be treated like one. It was just… balancing that truth with the contradictory reality of Levi being dependent on him for so much was difficult… seemingly impossible, at times.

He wanted to treat Levi with the respect he deserved, to show Levi he trusted in him and believed in him. But it was when that desire interfered with his ability to actually care for Lee, that things always went wrong, and Onyankopon feels, more often than not these days, at a loss.

Sometimes he thinks he’s not a very good partner, even though Levi keeps telling him over and over that he’s the best partner a person could have.

But he’d let Levi get so sick, he’d almost died, and it had exposed him to talk of institutionalization, and then he’d let him get lost out in public, among a society that was still so hostile toward Eldians…

He could have been killed…

Onyankopon can hardly bear to think of it, and so he pushes it from his mind and tells himself to stop it. Stop it, because it wasn’t doing any good, not for Levi or himself, to wallow in past mistakes.

He would just have to do better, moving forward.

He would do better.

He can hear Levi’s voice in his head, now, telling him to live without regrets, and thinks, that’s respect. He can respect Levi by listening to him. By taking him seriously. By trusting in his wisdom and judgement.

Even if Levi was unable to care for himself anymore, even if he relied on Onyankopon to care for him, that didn’t negate Levi’s mind. It didn’t render Levi a child. It didn’t do away with all his great life experience. An experience more varied and raw and honest than probably his and all the kids’ lives combined.

So, he would trust in Levi and heed his advice.

There was no point in dwelling on things he couldn’t change. There was no point beating himself up for past mistakes.

He would take care of Levi. He would stay by his side and be steadfast. He would do the best he could, and he would learn from those past mistakes to avoid future pitfalls.

He feels relief at the thought. A burgeoning determination as he clocks out for the evening and says his goodnights to his coworkers.

Levi will be waiting at home.

He knows Lee’s been planning something for his birthday, and a warmth blooms in his heart, a joyful anticipation.

He gets to go home to the most wonderful man in the world.

He gets to be with this man, through bad times, yes, but also through so much good.

Together.

And Onyankopon thinks, it’s only really that which matters.

That they’re together.

All the rest of it is bearable, he knows, so long as they have that.

//

Levi checks the time for the tenth time in half as many minutes.

They’d have to start heading home soon if they were gonna’ finish setting up.

Onyan’s birthday is today, and Levi had been planning this party for the last couple weeks.

It’s meant to be a surprise.

Onyan acted like he didn’t know, but Levi thinks he probably does. He wasn’t very good at this kinda’ thing. Keeping secrets.

He’d never thrown a party for nobody.

Onyan is turning 31, and Levi wants it to be nice. He wants… wants Onyan to have a good time.

Levi doesn’t think he’s been able to relax even once in the last eight months, and he knows it’s almost entirely ‘cause of him and his fuckin’ problems.

He knows this won’t make up for any of that. Not really. But he hopes it counts for somethin’.

What he really wishes is that he could somehow magically get better, so Onyan wouldn’t have to worry himself so much anymore. So he wouldn’t have to constantly look out for Levi, and wonder and be so fuckin’ afraid.

He wishes Onyan would just stop caring about him entirely, only… the thought ‘a that leaves Levi sick in his heart.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without Onyankopon, now.

He doesn’t think he could keep living, without him.

He doesn’t want to say so to Onyan, though. He thinks, by sayin’ so, he’d only tie Onyan down more. And he wants… wants Onyan to be able to decide for himself, someday, if he really does want to leave… to decide without feelin’ no guilt or pain…

Levi shakes his head.

He needs to stop thinking about this right now. Needs to just focus on the party.

He’s invited most everybody. Called ‘em all up and told ‘em the date and time.

He hopes most of ‘em show up. It’d be pathetic, if only a few people came.

Most of them said they’d come.

He’d gone out with Gabi and Falco a week ago to buy Onyan a gift. One different from the hat. That one’d gotten ruined. It’d gotten ruined by him getting lost, needing to be brought back home. It had been meant to be a surprise, but Onyan’d seen the box. So he’d just given it to him for their engagement.

The new one’s not as good.

Levi worries Onyan’ll think it’s stupid.

It was a model airplane. One you had to build yourself. Levi knows… he knows Onyan likes working with his hands. Likes little, intricate things like that. So, he’s hoping…

The kids told him they think he’ll love it, but Levi worries he’ll think it’s a toy meant for a child. Even though the lady at the shop they’d bought it from had told him it was too advanced for a child.

Levi doesn’t know. He doesn’t know nothin’ about any of it. He’d just thought… maybe Onyan would like it.

His hands shake a little, and he squeezes them into fists, willing them to stop.

He needs to calm down.

He can hear Thomas and the kids at the front of the shop, starting to clean up and close down.

One of them was gonna’ have to handle the writing on the cake. Levi couldn’t spell good enough for that. And anyway, his handwriting was shit, ever since his fingers got blown off.

He could handle this part, though, smoothing the icing onto the cake itself.

They’d all helped make it. They’d been working on it all day, makin’ it from scratch. Three layers of chocolate with a cream filling. It’d just come outta’ the oven, and Levi had had to wait for it to cool before putting the filling in, and from there, he’d started in on the icing.

They were cuttin’ it close.

It’s 4:15, and the party was meant to start at 5:30, right when Onyan was due home from work.

He knows Mikasa and Jean had volunteered to start setting up the decorations at the house early, so things should already be underway there. He hopes.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and Levi looks up, sees Falco standing there, smiling softly.

“We’re all done closing up,” he says, “so whenever you’re finished, we can start to head back. Mikasa called, by the way, and said they’ve got a bunch of stuff set up already, so things should be mostly taken care of by the time we get home.”

Levi feels a rush of relief, his shoulders sagging.

“That’s good,” he says. “I’m almost done.”

“You need any help?” Falco asks, stepping into the room, and Levi shakes his head.

“Just… can you do the writin’? Just put Happy Birthday or somethin’?” He nods at the cake, and Falco smiles.

“Sure,” he says, leaning against the counter. “It looks beautiful,” he goes on.

Levi shrugs.

“He’s gonna’ love it,” Falco says. “Don’t worry, Mr. Levi, it’s gonna’ be a great party.”

Levi glances up at him.

“You think?” he asks.

He knows he must sound pathetic, lookin’ for reassurance from a kid, but he can’t help it. He guesses it’s obvious, how nervous he was feelin’.

Falco nods.

“Yeah. Onyan’s gonna’ be really surprised, I bet.”

“… Yeah.” Levi looks back down at the cake. He guesses it’s good enough. He’s been smoothin’ this stupid icing all over it for ten solid minutes now. “Alright, let’s get the writin’ on it, and then we’ll box it up and head out.”

Falco makes quick work of writing out the message, his neat cursive done up in a pretty, pink and blue frosting.

“Happy 31st Birthday, Onyankopon!” it reads, and Levi thinks it’s as good as it’s gonna’ get.

Falco gets the cake into the box, and all that’s left after that is to lock up and start home.

Thomas is coming with them.

“My mom said she’ll be by later,” he tells Levi, pushing his chair as Gabi and Falco amble along ahead, and Levi nods.

“Okay,” he answers, happy to hear it. He liked Patricia a lot. She was a kind woman.

As they make their way from the shop, he thinks about how, tomorrow, he’s got another appointment with Dr. Lawrence. It’ll be the second time this week. All total, since the hospital, he’s been seein’ the doc three times a week.

He’s been trying to keep every appointment with the doc since getting out of the hospital. Trying, really trying this time, to get better.

Still, he ain’t exactly looking forward to it.

All the doc wants to talk about lately is his eating habits and how he’s feeling about eating and about what “triggers” make him not wanna’ eat.

Levi’d snapped at him during their last session, telling him that talkin’ about all this shit was making him not want to eat at all, and instead of taking the hint, Dr. Lawrence had used that admission to talk more about it.

It ain’t like he don’t know it’s important for him to eat, to keep a regular, consistent schedule with his meals and snacks. That it’s important for him to keep gaining weight.

He just doesn’t want to have to think about it all the time.

Wasn’t it enough that he was going to his appointments with Dr. Lawrence? That he was willing to go to the hospital to get his blood drawn whenever the doc told him he had to, to get poked and prodded and weighed and worried over? That he was eating every meal he was supposed to? That he was trying at all?

He don’t know what sitting there for an hour, going over all of it again and again, was supposed to accomplish, other than makin’ him feel guilty for sometimes thinking about skippin’ meals, for once in a while thinking about wanting to be thinner, for wishing everyone would just get the fuck off his case.

He ain’t stupid. He knows he did this to himself. Knows everyone was hovering over him and watching him and monitoring his behavior because he’d proven to them he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself. That he couldn’t be trusted.

Deep down, he also knows the fact he’s still having those kinds of thoughts is proof that they’re right. That he can’t be trusted, that he isn’t capable of caring for himself.

But admitting that to himself makes him feel sick inside. Makes him start thinkin’ he really would be better off dead. Because what sort of grown man couldn’t be trusted to provide for himself his most basic needs? Like eating when he was hungry, or getting to and from work, or bein’ able to control his fuckin’ moronic compulsions, like counting his inventory over and over, havin’ to start over from the beginning when he lost track, or cleaning the same fuckin’ spot on the counter again and again ‘till the wood started to warp, like he’d been doin’ earlier that day before Gabi had stopped him?

That was the other topic Dr. Lawrence wouldn’t shut up about. His OCD. His anorexia and his OCD. That’s all anyone ever wanted to talk about.

Sometimes, it felt like that was all Levi was. All he ever would be.

Didn’t matter that he’d once been a soldier. That he’d fought to save lives, or that he’d once been trusted enough by men smarter than him to do so.

All he was now was a pathetic, weak little man who, more often than not, needed help just getting outta’ bed, who needed help takin’ showers or using the toilet, who had to be watched during meals to make sure he didn’t chew the food up and spit it out, didn’t get trapped in a spiral of compulsive, repetitive habits, or didn’t black the fuck out and start seizing and pissin’ himself in public.

If it wasn’t none ‘a that, it was his brain short-circuiting and leavin’ him lost and confused, like what happened when he’d tried goin’ out on his own to buy Onyan his birthday gift.

He couldn’t be left alone anymore. Like some little brat too young and dumb to know nothin’. Doesn’t think he’ll ever, truly be capable of being on his own again.

He don’t know what the point is, some days, keeping this up. Fighting like this.

And he knows it’s that kind of thinking that’s got everyone scared, too. Knows it’s that kind of thinking that makes everyone think he needs to be watched.

And he guesses he does. He guesses.

He still thinks about what Onyan’d told him, about Dr. Cruize suggesting he be admitted to an insane asylum. About how easy it would be for any of ‘em to put him in a place like that, and how there wouldn’t be nothin’ he could do about it.

It scares him. It scares him so bad, thinkin’ about how easy he could end up there, locked in a fuckin’ padded room, probably put in one ‘a them straitjackets, so he couldn’t hurt himself or anyone else. Thinks about how they’d keep him doped up and helpless, on account no straitjacket could probably hold him on its own. They’d keep him doped to hell, and eventually, Onyan and the kids would forget about him in that place. They’d stop comin’ to visit, when they realized he wasn’t worth the trouble, and they’d never, never let him out, because they’d say he was crazy and couldn’t be trusted, and he’d be too drugged to argue otherwise, and that’s just how he’d spend the rest of his life. Lost in a haze of dope and no one believin’ a word he said about anything. And that’s when—‘cause he knew about places like that, knew about how the people there got treated—that’s when they’d start doin’ things to him, beatin’ him and rapin’ him, and nobody would know or care, and he’d just die like that.

He knows he’s being silly, thinkin’ this shit.

Onyan wouldn’t do that to him, and neither would the kids.

But it just… it scares him. It scares him, because even if he knows his family wouldn’t put him in no hospital like that, they still think he’s crazy, and sometimes the family didn’t get no say in the matter, if someone was truly a lost cause. Sometimes the state could intervene. He knows that. And he is crazy. He’s fuckin’ crazy, and he don’t know how to stop bein’ like this.

It just makes him feel helpless. Makes him feel like there ain’t no point to his life, anymore.

He supposes Dr. Lawrence is gonna’ wanna’ discuss all that tomorrow, if Levi can even bring himself to confess it.

He’s scared of that, too. Thinks, if he tells Dr. Lawrence about his fears, the doc’ll take it as proof that he needs to be locked up.

He frowns, shakin’ the thoughts from his head.

Wasn’t no use in dwelling on it now. Not unless he wanted to ruin Onyan’s birthday with his dreary attitude.

So, he tries not to think about tomorrow and instead focuses on today.

This was supposed to be Onyan’s day. Was supposed to be fun and easy.

I ain’t gonna’ ruin this, too, he promises himself.

Just this once, he wants to get it right.

Wants, for once, to be someone Onyankopon can look forward to coming home to.

//

Levi is a nervous wreck by the time they reach the house, worried that something’s gonna’ go wrong. Worried that the decorations won’t be up, or the caterer will have fucked up his order, won’t show or won’t have gotten it right.

But it becomes clear soon enough that everything’s taken care of and going according to plan. All the decorations are securely hung, brightly colored letters strung up across the front entry, spelling out, “Happy Birthday, Onyankopon!”. Even Levi can manage to read that.

There are tables set up in the living room, lined with large trays, piled high with finger food, paper plates set in stacks beside the dishes, another table with paper cups, a giant punch bowl in the center, the handle of a ladle sticking out over the edge.

There’s already music playing from the gramophone, soft dance music which Levi guesses someone must’ve brought, not recognizing the record himself.

Jean comes running over to take the cake from the kids.

“Where do you want it, Captain?” he asks, and Levi nods toward the table, lining the wall adjacent to them.

“There’s good,” he says, and Jean nods.

Levi checks his watch, frowning.

“Onyan’ll be home in less than an hour,” he starts. “The guests know they’re supposed to show up no later than 5:15, right?”

“They know, Mr. Levi,” Falco promises. “Don’t worry. They’ll probably start arriving any minute.”

Levi nods, pulling a breath in through his nose, letting it out slow.

He needs to relax. Everything was taken care of. He’d planned it well enough that he shouldn’t have to worry. It was just a matter of waiting, now.

Still, it’s a relief when the doorbell rings, the first guests arriving within the next, few minutes.

Half an hour later, and it’s a packed house, all the kids, along with several of Onyan’s coworkers. Thomas’ mother arrives, and Marshell with his wife.

Altogether, there must be 25 people, crammed into the small house.

Everyone knows the drill, that this is meant to be a surprise.

It’s Connie who waits by the front window, acting as a spy, jumping up when he finally spots Onyan pull up in front of the house.

“He’s coming!” he half-shouts, and that’s everybody’s cue to get in position.

Levi don’t bother hiding, sitting in the foyer, palms sweaty as he wipes them against his knees, anxious with anticipation.

He hopes Onyan is happy about this.

As soon as he comes through the door, Levi forces his lips into a strained smile, Onyan smiling back, taking a step toward him before at once everyone jumps out, yelling “Surprise!”.

It’s smiles all around after that, and Onyan particularly seems happy, mouth stretched in a wide grin, laughter rumbling in his throat as he comes over to Levi and pulls him into a warm hug, whispering “thank you’s” against his ear. Levi hugs him back and knows he should be relieved that Onyan seems welcoming of the surprise.

The party was for him, after all, and Levi had been planning the stupid thing for weeks now. Onyankopon being happy was the only thing that should matter.

It’s just… Levi ain’t used to being around so many people, and he finds, as the afternoon wears on into the early evening, everyone breaking off into smaller groups to socialize and converse, his own exhaustion begins to weigh him down, a throbbing ache starting in the small of his back, down through his hip and knee, threatening something much worse later on.

Making it worse was having so many people talking on top of one another, all at once. It’s nearly impossible for Levi to catch what’s being said by any of them. He tries. Tries to keep up, to pay attention, but his already shoddy hearing is overwhelmed, until all the voices seem to bleed into a single, monotonous drone, a persistent buzz which sets his ears ringing, a gauzy haze over every word spoken, so that they become indistinct in shape and tone.

His anxiety worsens whenever anyone addresses him directly, and Levi can’t hear shit. Doesn’t know what they’ve just said. If they’ve asked him a question or made an observation. So, he just keeps nodding like some brain-damaged retard, hoping it’s good enough.

He knows it ain’t, though.

He can see the confused looks, melting into irritation and even disgust. Can’t miss the way the people look at him for long seconds, gaze roaming over his crippled form before finally turning away, losing interest altogether, striking up conversation with someone else. Someone who can actually give them something back.

Onyan keeps coming over to him, asking if he’s okay, and it only makes Levi feel worse. He’s taking Onyan away from his own party, he thinks. Causing him to worry. He probably sees the stupid look on Levi’s face. The strained embarrassment, each time he loses someone’s interest.

Levi keeps telling him he’s fine, not to worry, but more and more, Levi finds himself isolated from the crowd, unable to contribute. More and more, he thinks he must be embarrassing Onyan in front of his friends and coworkers.

It makes him think of all those times Erwin brought him with him to some function or fundraiser. All those times Levi ended up making him and, by extension, the whole Corps look bad with his shitty, crude behavior.

The last thing he wants is for Onyan to look bad because his half-wit partner couldn’t keep it together for a few fuckin’ hours.

And so, he tries harder, tries listening more closely, tries following along with what people are saying.

There’s a group around him now, standing over him, and Levi hates how small it makes him feel. Bad enough… bad enough, always bein’ the shortest, always havin’ to look up at everyone. Now he’s in this chair, most days, most hours of the day, and he might as well be lookin’ up at titans, he thinks. It makes hearing even harder, voices distant above him.

One of them’s Onyan’s boss. Levi’s never met him before, but he remembers seein’ his picture in the paper, once.

He tries focusing in on whatever he’s saying, thinkin’ maybe if he can keep track of that, at least, it might be enough.

He doesn’t catch even half of it, though, and when the man suddenly turns to address him, Levi feels himself go stiff, hands gripping, white-knuckled, over the arms of his chair. He watches the guy’s lips move, hears the timbre of his voice, and nothing else.

And then he stops talking, lookin’ down at Levi, waiting, expecting an answer.

Levi has no idea what he’s just said, and he can feel sweat, poolin’ in the pits of his arms, the slow slide of it, down his temple.

His eyes cut away, finding Onyan across the room, standing amid his own group, laughing and carrying on, smile broad and happy.

Sees the kids, scattered across the cramped space, much the same. Talking to everyone, smiling, laughing, being social. Being normal.

Levi’s hands shake, and he struggles to make them still, digging his fingers into the armrests, forcing himself to turn back to Onyan’s boss.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he thinks he has to say something. He’s embarrassing Onyan. Maybe humiliating him. He can imagine his boss taking him aside later, tellin’ Onyan what a fool Levi’s made of him. Telling Onyan Levi’s behavior was insulting, that it’s reflected badly on him, and so reflected badly on the company, like how Levi used to fuck up with those functions and fundraisers for the Corps. Maybe he’d punish Onyan for it. Dock his pay, or demote him, or… all ‘cause Levi couldn’t just be normal!

Words form and break apart in his mind, clueless and grasping, sitting heavy on his tongue, and then they’re falling past his lips, stilted and blind, casting out a net and hoping something catches.

“I… I g-guess,” he stammers, and has no idea what he’s saying. No idea if the words are right. “Th-that’s great,” he tries, and watches, heart hammering in his chest as he sees the confused looks all around, the uncertainty turning to sick anxiety as the confusion of their faces turns over into naked rage.

“That’s… great?” Onyan’s boss asks, voice clipped, suddenly clear as the group around them falls silent. “Would you say the same if it had been your fiancé there flying the plane?”

Levi blinks up at him, and swallows, and knows already he’s misjudged, somehow. Said the wrong thing.

“Did you not hear what I said?” the man goes on, impatient. “One of our planes went down recently, over the Pacific.”

For a moment, Levi’s mind comes to a screeching halt, struggling to process the words. When at last it does, he realizes with growing horror what he’s said. What it sounds like he’s just said.

He stumbles to correct himself, a drowning panic in his chest, closing up his throat and turning his tongue to lead.

“I… I mean…” he struggles, shaking his head, “I d-didn’t mean… I meant…”

Fuck, fuck, his brain screams, face burning, spit it out, spit it out already, you fuckin’ idiot!

“I did… didn’t… I didn’t hear right…” he finally manages, voice brittle. “I didn’t hear…”

“You didn’t hear?” a woman questions, disbelieving. “Then why pretend like you did?”

Levi’s mouth works, trying desperately to come up with something, anything to relieve the hatred crushing down on him. But he can’t think, no words coming to explain his way out, and so he only sits there, eyes wide and lips numb, hands trembling over the arms of his chair.

“Oh, you’re hard of hearing, aren’t you?” Onyan’s boss starts, suddenly, mouth pulled into a tight frown. “You’re partially deaf?”

Levi can only stare up at him, mouth still refusing to work, a brutal embarrassment adding onto the shame.

“Well, he should have just said so,” the woman says, turning away, starting up with the man on her left.

Levi sees her eyes roll, sees the open disgust, and his insides feel like they’ve shriveled to ash as the rest of the group does the same, turning from him, forgetting him as they begin talking amongst themselves.

It becomes clear after a few minutes more that nobody has any further interest in him, and Levi bites the inside of his cheek, hard, blinking rapidly against the burning in his eyes as he takes the wheels of his chair and turns from the group.

Nobody tries to stop him, and there’s both relief and horror in it. The same as he makes his way through the crowd, toward the hallway.

He doesn’t look in Onyan’s direction, or toward any of the kids.

He just wants to get away. Get to their room and close the door behind him.

Wants to be someplace where nobody has to look at him.

Someplace he can hide away and pretend he doesn’t exist at all.

//

Falco sees Mr. Levi as he works through the crowd, out of the living area and into the hall. Watches as he disappears down the corridor, he guesses to the bedroom.

He glances toward Onyankopon and realizes he hasn’t yet noticed.

He thinks maybe Levi is just going to retrieve something, maybe use the bathroom, but as the minutes tick by, and there’s no further sign of him, Falco grows suspicious.

He’d been watching him earlier, sitting frozen and silent among one of the multiple groups filling the space. Had noticed the tension in Mr. Levi’s frame. The way nobody was seeming to pay attention to him. There’d been an exchange at some point, and Falco had seen the way Mr. Levi’s hands shook around the arms of his chair, the stricken expression across his pale face. All of that had happened only minutes before he’d left the party, and Falco suspects now something must have happened.

He reaches out and takes hold of Gabi’s arm as she’s passing him by, and she turns toward him, face screwing up.

“Hey!” she starts, and Falco cuts her off, shoving the tray of refreshments the two of them have been serving into her hands.

“Can you take over for me a few minutes? I need to go check something.”

Gabi gapes at him.

“What? It’s supposed to be your turn! I’ve been serving drinks the last hour, Falco!”

Falco sighs. “I know, Gabi. It’s just for a few minutes. I… I saw Mr. Levi go to his room, and he hasn’t been back since. I just want to check on him and make sure he’s okay.”

Immediately, Gabi’s demeanor softens, her eyes growing concerned. “Is he okay?” she asks. “Should I go with you?”

Falco shakes his head. “No. I think more people would just irritate him. I only want to make sure he doesn’t need help or anything.”

Gabi doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she nods anyway, mouth pulled down at the corners. “You’ll let me know if he isn’t alright, right?”

Falco nods. “Thanks Gabi,” he says, before turning, slipping down the hall and toward the bedroom at the end.

He waits a long moment outside the door, ear pressed to the wood, listening for any movement within.

He doesn’t hear anything, though, and his chest feels tight with anxiety.

Finally, he lifts his hand and knocks, a solid, three times, waiting.

No answer, and Falco reaches for the doorknob, letting his hand rest against the warm brass of it.

“… Mr. Levi?” he calls gently. “It… it’s me. Can I come in?”

Still no reply, and Falco takes a deep breath, turning the knob and pushing the door in.

Inside is dark and silent, and for a moment, Falco feels a spike of uncertain fear, eyes taking too long to adjust, until finally he spots Mr. Levi on the bed, lying against his side, one leg curled up toward his chest, the other stretched out on the mattress.

Falco swallows.

“… Mr. Levi?” he calls and feels a rush of relief through him as he watches Levi shift, only a little, before his gruff voice reaches his ears.

“… What?” he asks, and Falco closes the door behind him, moving slowly forward.

“… Are… are you feeling alright?” he asks, coming around the foot of the bed, closer to where he can see Mr. Levi’s face.

He doesn’t miss the way Levi turns from him as he does, burying his face against the pillow.

“Mr. Levi?” Falco tries, concern mounting.

“… Just feel shitty,” he hears Levi mutter. “I’m fine. I’ll be out later.”

Falco doesn’t think he’s fine at all, but he swallows the words down and instead lowers himself to the edge of the mattress.

“… Did something happen with the guests?” he asks and thinks he’s guessed right if the way Mr. Levi’s body stiffens is any indication.

“… It’s nothin’,” Levi answers after a long moment. “… Just ain’t no good at this sorta’ thing.”

“… Socializing, you mean?” Falco asks, and Levi grunts in reply.

Falco licks his lips, staring down at his cupped hands.

“… You don’t gotta’ be here, kid,” Levi tells him suddenly, his muffled voice coming clear as he finally turns his face from the pillow. “You should get back out there and have fun.”

“… To be honest, Mr. Levi… I… I’m not much of a social person myself,” Falco admits softly. “I mean… not compared to Gabi, anyway. If I had a choice, I’d probably choose to spend the whole party hiding in here with you.”

He smiles when he hears Mr. Levi’s huff of laughter, turning to see the small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Yeah, well… can’t blame you there,” Levi says after a moment, before falling silent again, long seconds passing. “… I can’t hear well, Falco,” he at last starts again, voice nearly a whisper. “… It’s worse when there’s lots ‘a people around. I fucked up in front of Onyan’s boss… I couldn’t hear what they were sayin’ and I just… I tried to say somethin’ vague and made myself look like some kinda’ pyscho… Wouldn’t be the first fuckin’ time I screwed up and embarrassed the people I care about…”

“… You didn’t embarrass anyone, Mr. Levi.”

“You don’t even know what I said, Falco,” Levi argues, voice thick. “I shoulda’ just kept my mouth shut. I ain’t no good at this. I ain’t no good at… at talkin’ to people.”

“Well… what did you say?” Falco asks, certain it can’t be as bad as Mr. Levi is making it out to be.

Levi shakes his head, finally pushing himself up and leaning back against the headboard.

“Onyan’s boss and a few others were talkin’ somethin’ ‘bout a plane that went down over one ‘a them oceans. I can’t remember which they said it was. Fuck… I worry so damn much about that. I worry about Onyan flyin’ around in those fuckin’ things…”

Falco frowns, reaching out and taking hold of Mr. Levi’s hand.

“I know,” he says, “but they’re pretty safe, usually, and Onyan’s a great pilot.”

“I know that,” Mr. Levi agrees. “Just…” He shakes his head again. “Anyway, I’m gettin’ lost here. I couldn’t hear what they were sayin’, and then they asked me what I thought ‘a the whole thing, and I panicked, ‘cause I didn’t know what to say, so I just said ‘that’s great’ and they all looked at me like I was a sick freak or somethin’. Can’t fuckin’ blame ‘em.”

Falco feels himself wince.

That was kind of bad, but he doesn’t say so.

“I’m sure Onyan’s boss understands, Mr. Levi. He knows about your hearing issues…”

“Yeah, well…” Mr. Levi mutters, looking away. “He said somethin’ about that, and I tried explainin’, but you didn’t see their faces, kid. Didn’t none of ‘em wanna’ talk to me after that, so I just came in here. It’s better with me in here. I don’t wanna’ ruin this for Onyan.”

“You won’t ruin anything, Mr. Levi,” Falco promises. “This party wouldn’t even be happening if it weren’t for you. And I know Onyankopon will have less of a good time if you aren’t out there with him. He’s gonna’ start wondering where you went soon, I bet. He’ll be worried.”

He feels Mr. Levi’s hand twitch in his own, and he looks down, realizing with a start that his hands are larger than Levi’s now. Longer, anyway. Mr. Levi’s fingers are still thicker, though, strong looking in a way that Falco doubts his will ever be.

“… I don’t want him to worry,” Levi goes on quietly. “He deserves to get a break from that.”

Falco closes his fingers over Levi’s palm, giving his hand a tug.

“Then won’t you come back out, Mr. Levi?” he asks. “Maybe you can just stick with us kids. We could always use some help in the kitchen.”

Levi stares back at their hands, jaw tight, before he’s looking up at Falco, lips tugging up a little at the corners.

“You’re a hell of a kid, Falco,” he says, “smarter ‘an most adults I’ve ever known. Okay, I’ll help you guys in the kitchen.”

Falco can’t help but grin at that, his face a little warm.

“Th… thanks, Mr. Levi,” he looks away.

He helps Mr. Levi back into his chair, after, and offers to push him, but Levi declines, saying he’s fine on his own.

Still, Falco keeps pace at his side as they make their way back out to the party.

They bump into Onyankopon as they emerge from the hallway.

“Oh, Lee! There you are! I was just coming to check if you were in the bedroom. I got worried when I couldn’t spot you.”

“Mr. Levi just needed a little break,” Falco jumps in, seeing the frozen look on Levi’s face. “He’s alright now, though. He said he wants to help me and Gabi out in the kitchen for a while, if that’s okay?”

“Of course!” Onyan smiles, bending down and giving Mr. Levi a quick peck against the cheek. “I know how taxing it is on you, having to do parties like this, Lee.”

Mr. Levi reaches out, taking hold of Onyankopon’s hand.

“Thanks, Onyan,” he says softly. “It’s just hard… with my hearin’ and…”

“I know, babe,” Onyankopon tells him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

Once in the kitchen, Falco can see Mr. Levi visibly start to relax, falling into an easy rhythm with him and Gabi, helping to prepare food and drinks for the guests. Jean and Mikasa come by and sit for a while, talking with Levi, and then later Armin. Falco is relieved to see Mr. Levi’s previous anxiety slowly dissipate, until he’s talking freely with all of them, even laughing a little at Gabi’s antics.

They keep it up until Connie comes bursting in a couple hours later, telling them they’re ready to light the cake and sing happy birthday.

Someone’s already turned the lights low, and Falco takes hold of Mr. Levi’s chair to help navigate him through the darkened room, toward where Onyankopon and the guests are gathered ‘round the cake.

Mikasa lights the candles, 31 of them stuck carefully into the frosting, the soft glow of them soothing, Falco thinks, as he helps maneuver Levi closer to Onyan.

“Okay, everybody, on three!” Armin announces. “One… Two… Three!”

The group bursts into song, only a slight hesitation at the beginning before everyone picks up their tempo.

Beside him, Falco can pick out Mr. Levi’s voice, steady and strong, even in the denseness of all the others, and when he looks over, he sees Onyankopon with his hand in Levi’s own, looking down at him, features naked with fondness. Mr. Levi looks back up at him, the same expression plain.

Falco can’t help but smile to himself at the sight, turning away after a moment to find Gabi beside him.

He takes her hand too, and leans over, pressing a kiss to her cheek, a warmth in his chest as she moves closer, letting her head fall soft against his shoulder.

//

“I saw Mr. Roberts talking to you earlier, while I was opening my presents.”

Onyankopon rubs absently at Levi’s shoulder, the two of them in bed, finally, the clock ticking over into the morning hours.

The party had lasted well into the evening, the last guests leaving after 11 PM.

Onyankopon wishes they could have left sooner. Not for his sake, but for Levi’s.

It had been obvious, even hours ago, how much he was struggling to make it through the party, his energy flagging, the familiar lines of stress which came with acute, physical pain marring his features, the tremor which worked through his hands, and which Levi tried to hide, failing to escape Onyankopon’s notice.

But even when Onyankopon had offered to ask everyone to leave, Levi had refused.

He’d been planning this party for the past, three weeks, and he’d wanted Onyankopon to have a good time, and Onyankopon wasn’t going to deny Levi the satisfaction of success.

Because he had had a good time.

He’d had a great time, even, and he knew, for Levi, seeing him enjoy himself had been worth all the effort.

It made his heart swell with pride, for how kind, how generous this man was. For the fact he got to claim Levi as his own, to show him off to other people, and for those people to see how lucky he was.

Still, Levi was suffering for it, now, and Onyankopon can’t help the curl of guilt he feels at the realization.

Levi turns toward him, curling against his chest.

“… Yeah… he was apologizin’…”

Onyankopon frowns.

“Apologizing? For what?”

Levi shakes his head.

“Nothin’, really. Just… earlier, I was talkin’ with him and a group ‘a people, and I couldn’t… my hearin’ was givin’ me trouble, so… they was talkin’ about that plane that went down, over the Atlantic, but I didn’t catch it. I guess I was embarrassed that I couldn’t follow along, so instead of admittin’ to it, I tried actin’ like I knew what they were sayin’. I said somethin’ stupid about it bein’ great, and everyone got pissed at me. They… they thought I was bein’ a shit…”

“Oh,” Onyankopon breathes, his hand tightening over Levi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Lee.”

It was the Pacific, where the crash had happened, but it's not important, he thinks, and he doesn't want to embarrass Levi by pointing it out. It doesn't matter anyway.

It's only, his heart hurts, knowing how, ever since the stroke, Lee's memory issues made it even more difficult for him to socialize, on top of all the other ways in which he struggled.

It wasn’t unusual, for people to think things like that about him. Either because of his deafness, or his way of speaking, people often mistook him for intentional rudeness, or insensitivity, when rarely was that the case. Certainly not about something as awful as a plane crash. Usually, it was just because he hadn’t heard correctly, or because Levi wasn’t so good at filtering himself.

Again, Levi shakes his head.

“Nah, it… it’s okay. Your boss told me he was sorry for snappin’ at me. He didn’t have to do that. He… he seems like a good man.”

“He is,” Onyankopon agrees. “Though some days I want to strangle him.”

Levi laughs at that, a low rumble in his chest, and Onyankopon rubs again at his shoulder.

“Seriously, though, Lee… thank you. For the party. I had a wonderful time.”

“… Yeah?” Levi asks. Onyankopon can feel him shift, can feel him looking up at him.

He glances down and smiles.

“Absolutely. And thank you also for the amazing gift. I can’t wait to start building it.”

Levi turns his face away, then.

“… I know it ain’t as nice as the bowler. But I wanted to get you somethin’ else, since the surprise was fuckin’ ruined.”

“Well, now I have both, and both are amazing.” Onyankopon says. “I mean it, Lee. They’re my favorite gifts.”

Levi huffs, incredulous.

“Well, at least it’ll give you somethin’ else to do at home besides them coloring books you’ve been fuckin’ with.”

“What? I like my coloring books!” Onyankopon defends, feigning offense, and he laughs when Levi smacks his chest.

“You’re obsessed with ‘em.” He scolds. “It don’t look good, you spendin’ three or four hours, colorin’ in some book.”

“You wound me, Levi!” Onyankopon again laughs. “It’s an artistic endeavor!”

Levi doesn’t say anything, only takes Onyankopon’s arm and pulls it over himself, pressing closer to him.

Onyankopon smiles, bends to kiss gently against his crown.

The room falls quiet, then, and Onyankopon reaches to turn out the light.

He sinks into the steady rhythm of Levi’s breaths, the feel of his back, expanding and contracting beneath his arm.

“… Happy birthday, Onyan,” he hears Levi’s muted voice, heavy with exhaustion.

And he’s relieved, when he feels Levi’s body grow lax with sleep, knowing, at last, he’s escaped his pain.

And he thinks, as he lies there in the quiet dark of their room, of how blessed he is…

How truly, truly blessed, that he should get to call this man his.

That he should get to come home to this man, who gave of his heart so freely.

To this man who loved so unconditionally, and to find himself the unsuspecting object of so true and pure a love.

He thinks, as he lies there, this beautiful man beside him, held in his arms, he thinks…

And he knows…

He knows, better than he’s ever known anything…

I really am the luckiest man in the world…

Chapter Text

Dr. Lawrence wants them to eat lunch together again.

He’s brought them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and boxes of juice.

Levi fuckin’ hates this. He hates when they have to do this.

He knows it’s important. Knows he needs to be watched. But it makes him feel self-conscious. Makes him hyper-aware of his habits, hyper-aware of how weird he’s being. Especially when the doc asks him to try and stop, like he’s doin’ now.

“Just try to take a single bite without cutting it up like that, Levi. Just one bite. Like this.”

He watches Dr. Lawrence bite into his own sandwich. A big chunk, which he chews and swallows like it’s nothin’. And then he looks at Levi, all expectant, and Levi feels sick.

He thinks…

He thinks, if he does that, if he don’t cut his sandwich up into four, even squares, somethin’ awful’s gonna’ happen.

He thinks, if he don’t do it, Onyan’s plane is gonna’ catch on fire and he’s gonna’ crash and die. That’s what’s got in his head today, and he knows it’s insane. He knows it’s irrational. Knows how he cuts his sandwich don’t have no bearing on anything. But he’s got it in his head, and he can’t get it out.

He feels himself breathing too heavy, and he swallows, hands twitching over the food on his plate.

Dr. Lawrence doesn’t say anything, but Levi can feel his eyes on him.

“… I don’t know if I can,” he finally admits, and his face heats with shame.

“… Can you try?” the doc presses.

Levi shakes his head.

He half expects the doc to yell at him, but that’s stupid. Dr. Lawrence never yells.

“What do you think’s going to happen, Levi, if you don’t cut your sandwich up before eating it?”

Levi swallows again, biting the inside of his cheek.

He doesn’t want to say it out loud. He doesn’t want to, because he thinks that’ll make it happen, too.

“… I’m scared,” he manages. It’s so fuckin’ stupid. It’s embarrassing.

“Okay.” Dr. Lawrence nods. “What are you scared of?”

“… I’m scared… I’m scared somethin’ bad’ll happen… if I don’t…”

“Like what?”

Levi imagines the engine of Onyan’s plane exploding. Imagines Onyan getting caught in the blast, the fire and heat incinerating him to dust.

He closes his eyes and presses his knuckles past his teeth.

“… Levi,” Dr. Lawrence’s voice calls softly, “please stop.”

Levi bites down hard before forcing his hand from his mouth.

He can’t look at the doc.

“… I keep… keep imagining Onyan’s plane blowin’ up,” he finally forces the words from his throat. He digs his nails against his knee, focuses on the pain.

Dr. Lawrence doesn’t laugh, or tell him he’s stupid. He just says okay.

And then he asks Levi to try again to take a bite without cutting the sandwich up.

“But what if it’s true?” Levi asks, voice ragged with desperation. His eyes sting and he feels like such an idiot, but he can’t help it.

“Well, what if it is?” Dr. Lawrence asks back, and Levi gapes at him, his heart frantic against his ribs. “Then again, what if it’s not?”

And the doctor reaches forward, suddenly, taking one half of Levi’s sandwich and biting into it.

Levi watches him. Watches the doc’s throat bob as he swallows the food down.

Something unlatches in Levi’s chest and he sags back against the cushion of his chair.

“Do you think, if Onyankopon’s plane were to crash right now, I would somehow be responsible because I just bit into your sandwich?”

Levi twists at the fabric of his coat.

He wishes the doc hadn’t said that. He wishes he hadn’t said it out loud like that.

“… No,” he answers softly.

“You don’t think it would be my fault?”

Levi shakes his head.

Of course not. It wouldn’t be.

“But you think it would be yours? If you took a bite of your sandwich, and Onyankopon’s plane crashed, it would be your fault for not following your rituals?”

“… I don’t know,” Levi croaks. He feels confused and desperate. “I don’t know. Okay? It… it wouldn’t be anybody's fault, I guess.”

Dr. Lawrence doesn’t say anything, and Levi wishes he would tell him what to do. What to think.

“Do you think you can try taking a bite?” the doctor asks again.

Finally, Levi nods, and reaches for the sandwich.

He brings it to his mouth, hesitates, and then forces himself to bite into it.

It tastes good, the jelly and peanut butter washing over his tongue, the crunchy bits gnashing pleasantly between his teeth.

He closes his eyes and imagines Onyan’s plane landing safely on the ground. Pictures Onyan exiting the plane, whole and well.

Nothing was gonna’ happen. He knows that. Not from him taking a bite outta’ some stupid sandwich.

“That’s good, Levi. That’s really good. How do you feel now? Do you feel less or more anxious than before you took that bite?”

Levi shrugs, only half-realizing as he takes another.

His stomach grumbles.

“… Okay,” he answers. “… Less. I feel less anxious.”

It was true.

He’d thought, somehow, before… he’d thought he couldn’t possibly eat the sandwich without cutting it up. Felt for sure, if he did, something terrible would happen. The feeling had been powerful. But now it was just… just gone.

He didn’t feel scared now.

He wants to finish the rest of the meal, suddenly. Suddenly realizes how hungry he is.

Dr. Lawrence smiles at him, and finishes off his lunch.

Levi hesitates, then takes another bite, and then another, and the sandwich is gone. He feels guilty for eating it, feels like a pig, but he tries to ignore those feelings.

Then, Dr. Lawrence asks him how he’s been feeling about himself in general, and Levi shrugs.

“Can you be a little more specific?”

Levi picks at the weave of his pants, and shrugs again.

“… I had a dream about bein’ in the hospital again…” he trails off. “I been thinkin’ about that a lot, for some reason. Just thinkin’… thinkin’ about what got me there. Why I ended up lettin’ myself get there.”

“About how close you came to dying?”

“… Yeah.”

“Do you have any idea why you might be thinking so much about that?”

Levi frowns.

“… I guess… it scared me. I didn’t really… didn’t really know how scared I was ‘a dyin’ ‘till it almost happened, maybe…”

“You realized you don’t want to die?”

“… Yeah. I don’t wanna’ die.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Levi. Can you tell me a bit about why?”

Levi is quiet a long time, thinking.

He doesn’t know how to phrase it, and he struggles, trying to explain.

“… I like bein’ with everyone. I like bein’ with Onyan and the kids.”

“That’s a good reason,” the doc tells him. “You want to experience your life with them more?”

Levi nods.

“Yeah. And…”

Dr. Lawrence waits, and Levi swallows, picking again at his slacks.

“… I don’t… don’t wanna’ end up nowhere. I mean… I don’t wanna’ end up in one ‘a them looney bins. They… Onyan done told me the other day ‘bout how the doctor that treated me, at the hospital, sh… she suggested I get put in one ‘a them places. Like… like for crazy people…”

Levi’s eyes burn and he digs his knuckles against them.

Don’t cry, you pussy bitch…

“Really?” Dr. Lawrence sounds surprised, maybe a little disgusted.

Levi glances up at him, uncertain.

“… Yeah, I guess. She… she said I needed to be insti… in-institutionalized, or whatever. That Onyan and the kids weren’t… weren’t equipped to take care ‘a someone like me…”

His throat goes tight, and Levi tries swallowing past it, past the ball of terror suddenly crushing his chest.

“Well, she’s wrong,” Dr. Lawrence tells him flatly.

It takes Levi a moment to process his words, and when at last he does, something in him lets go.

His eyes well, and he can feel the sob which tries forcing its way up his throat, just barely swallowing it down with the press of palms against his mouth.

“… Levi, you’ve been making incredible strides with your therapy these last, couple months. You don’t need to be institutionalized because you’re doing well on your own. And I can say this from experience, but your family, Onyankopon especially, are some of the best and most dedicated caretakers I’ve ever met. More often than not, the people who end up in asylums are, sadly, the people who have no one to care for or look after them. That isn’t a position you’re in, Levi.”

“… Yeah?” Levi chokes, voice thin and wavering. Fuck, he’s gonna’ cry.

“Absolutely,” Dr. Lawrence reassures, and Levi nods, gulping air.

His heart’s slammin’ against his ribs. He needs… needs to calm down.

God, fuck, he hadn’t realized how scared he’s been… how much it’s been pressin’ on his mind. How convinced he’s been that the doc would be the one to have him committed.

“… ‘m sorry,” he gasps, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I just… just need a second…”

“Of course, Levi. It’s okay. Take your time.”

Levi works to get his breathing under control, wiping again and again at his eyes.

He’s such a fuckin’ child. God…

It takes too long, but finally the knot in his chest loosens, his throat opening back up. He wipes against at his eyes and nods at Dr. Lawrence.

“Okay?” the doc asks, and Levi nods again.

He gives Levi a minute more, and then he’s askin’ questions again.

Levi’s almost relieved. He wants to move on to somethin’ else. He’s so fuckin’ embarrassed.

“How have you been feeling otherwise?” the doctor starts.

Levi glances up at him, and then away again.

“Fuckin’ great,” he half-laughs, doesn’t even try keepin’ the sarcasm from his voice.

There wasn’t no foolin’ the doc, anyhow. He was smart as a tack.

Dr. Lawrence doesn’t say anything, and Levi sighs.

“… I feel like… like I’m makin’ everyone’s lives harder,” he finally admits. “I need so much fuckin’ help, with fuckin’ everything. I know they must be sick ‘a me. I’m fuckin’ sick ‘a me.”

“Do you know they are, Levi, or are you just afraid they are?”

Again, Levi glances at him.

“… Just afraid,” he says softly. “But I don’t see how they couldn’t be. Onyan especially. He needs to help me with everything. I can’t even use the fuckin’ toilet on my own. He’s gotta’ be sick ‘a me. I’m such a fuckin’ useless sack ‘a shit.”

“… You’re being pretty mean to yourself, Levi.”

“Yeah, well…” Levi looks away. “… It’s what I deserve,” he says under his breath.

He shouldn’t’ve eaten that sandwich, he thinks.

Fuckin’ peanut butter had so much fat in it. Even if… even if he’d cut it up like he’d wanted to, it still would’a amounted to the same calories and fat. He shouldn’t’ve eaten it.

“Fuck…” he mutters, and feels desperate. He feels fat. Suddenly, it feels like his gut is pressin’ against the waistband of his slacks.

He wants to throw it up. Wants to go to the bathroom and throw the whole thing back up.

“What’s wrong, Levi?”

Levi swallows, wipes at his forehead. He pushes a thumb between his waist and slacks. He wants the pressure gone.

“… Nothin’, just…”

“… You can tell me, Levi,” the doc presses, and Levi shakes his head, eyes burning.

“I’m fuckin’ fat. I… I mean… I feel fat. I wish I hadn’t ‘a eaten that sandwich. Fuck. I ate the whole fuckin’ thing like some kinda’ pig. I’m a fuckin’ pig.”

He’s overcome with the sudden urge to hit himself in the face. Wants suddenly to knock his own fuckin’ teeth out.

“Levi, let’s hold on a moment.” Dr. Lawrence’s voice is calm. “The way you talk about yourself is very alarming. Do you realize?”

Levi just stares at him, doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

The doctor frowns.

“I want to try an exercise with you, if that’s okay. Alright?”

Levi bites the inside of his cheek ‘till he tastes blood.

“… What sorta’ exercise?” he whispers.

“A role-playing exercise. I want you to pretend to be Onyankopon, and I’ll pretend to be you. I’m going to talk about myself the way you talk about yourself, and then I want you, as Onyankopon, to tell me what you think Onyan would say in response.”

Levi looks at the doc.

He almost tells him to fuck off.

How the hell was that supposed to help anything? How was he supposed to pretend to be Onyan?

Dr. Lawrence smiles.

“Let’s just try, okay?”

Levi huffs.

“… Fine.”

“Now remember, I’m you, and you’re Onyankopon.”

Levi shrugs.

“… I’m such a fucking piece of shit,” Dr. Lawrence says suddenly, tone harsh in a way Levi’s never heard before. It startles him, and he blinks up at the doctor. “I’m useless. I don’t deserve anything good. I think everyone would be better off if I was just gone. I make everyone’s lives worse…”

Levi stares back at him.

Is that what he sounded like?

He doesn’t think so. Or, at least, he thinks the harshness of the doc’s tone must be exaggerated.

Dr. Lawrence nods.

“Your turn.”

Levi rolls his eyes.

What was he supposed to do? Say something encouraging?

“… I don’t know what to say,” he answers after a moment. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Just say whatever you think Onyan might say if he heard you talking about yourself like that,” Dr. Lawrence tells him.

Levi sighs, shakes his head.

He tries to think.

Tries to hear what Onyan would say. Tries to hear his voice.

He’d be kind.

Of course he would.

He’d probably tell him what he was sayin’ wasn’t true.

“… That ain’t… tha… that isn’t true, Levi,” he says and feels fuckin’ ridiculous.

Dr. Lawrence is lookin’ at him like he expects him to say more, but Levi don’t know what.

He looks away.

“You’re not useless,” he tries. “Y-you don’t make anyone’s life worse. Y-you deserve somethin’ good.”

His face is hot with embarrassment.

This was so stupid. It wasn’t helping.

Onyan would be kind ‘cause he was kind to everybody. That’s all.

He doesn’t know how lyin’ to himself with Onyan’s words was meant to make him feel better.

“… Okay. That’s good, Levi. Let's continue.”

Levi don’t want to.

He don’t like how harsh the doc’s voice was, talkin’ like that. Don’t like the guttural sound of it. Sounded hateful. Sounded mean, like how some of the people Underground used to talk… used to talk to him…

It puts him on edge. Makes his body coil. Makes him think the doc’s spoilin’ for a fight.

“I’m such a fat fucking pig,” Dr. Lawrence spews, and Levi goes stiff. “I’m fat and disgusting, and I deserve to be treated like shit because I’m just such a fat fucking pig.”

He stops, and looks at Levi, waiting.

Levi shakes his head.

He don’t wanna’ do this no more.

He don’t like this.

“Your turn,” the doc pushes, and again, Levi shakes his head.

“… I… I don’t like the way you’re talkin’,” he whispers, voice weak in his ears. “I don’t wanna’ do this no more, doc.”

“Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah… yes. I don’t like it.”

“Why does it make you uncomfortable?”

“… Because… because it’s rotten. It’s mean. You soundin’ like them bastards I grew up with. You soundin’ like you mean business.”

“… I’m only imitating the way you talk about yourself, Levi,” the doctor says, and Levi again shakes his head no.

“Nah, no… that’s how them pigs talk to me. They… they talk to me like that. Like Mama’s men, like… like Kenny, they…”

His heart stutters in his chest, the words dying in his throat.

He looks away, sick inside himself.

“… What are you thinking, Levi?”

Levi shakes his head.

He don’t wanna’ think about this. Don’t wanna’…

“Do you think, maybe, the way those men spoke to you as a boy might have influenced the way you think and talk about yourself?”

Levi pushes himself up to his feet. His legs shake, knees going out almost immediately, and he barely catches himself on the chair.

“… Stop,” he chokes. “Stop it. I don’t wanna’ do this. I don’t…”

“Okay, Levi. We’ll stop. Can you sit back down for me?”

Levi sags against the chair and squeezes his eyes shut.

He feels sick. His head hurts.

“Levi, please sit down. I don’t want you falling and hurting yourself.”

Finally, Levi sinks back into the chair. He keeps his face turned away.

He wants to go home.

“Let’s try something else.”

“Fuck,” Levi breathes.

He don’t wanna’ try nothin’ else. He wants to go home. He don’t wanna’ think about this shit no more.

“It’s okay, Levi. I want to shift gears. You said you feel fat, that you wish you hadn’t eaten the sandwich I gave you. Can you talk a little more about that?”

Levi shakes his head. He wraps his arms around himself.

“… Talk about what?”

“About how eating makes you feel…”

Levi bites the inside of his cheek, arms tighter around himself.

He suddenly wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

He feels like… feels like a stuffed turkey, sittin’ here, the doc starin’ at him.

He’s probably thinkin’ what a fat pig Levi is, too. Probably noticin’ finally how fat he is.

“… Like shit,” he mutters.

“Does it make you feel guilty?”

Levi nods.

“Do you not feel you deserve to eat?”

“… I don’t need to eat. I’m already fat. I eat too much.”

“Levi, can we try something? An experiment?”

“What, like the last one? You gonna’ talk in that fuckin’ voice again? That ain’t… ain’t how I sound. I don’t sound like them…”

“No, Levi. I want to try something else.”

And suddenly the doctor’s standing up and he’s at his desk. He’s opening up a drawer and pulling out a large, folded sheet of construction paper.

Levi stares at him and has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

The doc brings the paper over and unfolds it, laying it on the floor. He pulls a marker from his breast pocket.

“Levi, I want you to take this marker and draw on this paper what you think your body looks like.”

Levi blinks up at him.

“What?”

“I want you to draw what shape you think your body is on this paper.”

“Why?” Levi blurts.

He don’t wanna’ do that. What the fuck was the doc thinkin’? Was he tryin’ to humiliate him?

He feels his hands shaking and stuffs them into his armpits.

He imagines the doc laughing at him. Imagines drawing what he knows… he knows his body looks like, and the doc laughing and telling him that’s right. He’s a fat little pig and the doc was makin’ him do this to laugh at him.

That’s irrational, he knows.

Dr. Lawrence was trying to help him. He wasn’t trying to humiliate him. Wasn’t gonna’ laugh.

But… he just thinks… and he’s scared.

He doesn’t see the point, other than makin’ fun…

Levi licks his lips. His mouth feels dry.

Finally, he reaches out and takes the marker.

Dr. Lawrence helps him stand up, helps lower him to the floor.

For an instant, Levi imagines the doc kickin’ him hard in the stomach, and when Levi goes over, he imagines the doc stampin’ on him, over and over, ‘till his ribs crack apart and his skull turns to mush.

Maybe if he does this, the doc’ll let him go home early.

He just wants to go home.

He knows what he looks like. Knows his body’s disgusting.

He pulls the cap off the marker, hands shaking still.

He knows what he looks like.

Short and squat, with wide hips like a girl’s. Kenny used to tell him all the time. Used to say if he gained any weight, on account ‘a bein’ so short, it’d all go to his hips and ass, like it did with women. Said he had wide hips anyway, and slim shoulders, and a narrow chest and a thick waist. Not like how a man should look.

Erwin was how a man should look. And Onyan, too. Wide shoulders and a broad chest, narrow hips and waist. They were tall and well-proportioned. They were beautiful.

Levi didn’t have none ‘a that.

He draws what he knows he looks like, and feels sick at the outline that takes shape.

It’s hideous, just like he knows he is, and he stares at it a moment, like some misshapen monster, before looking away, disgusted.

“Are you finished?” Dr. Lawrence’s voice shakes him from his thoughts, and Levi leans back, not able to look at him.

He don’t know why the doc made him do this.

He feels so ashamed.

“… Yeah,” he chokes.

“Okay,” the doctor says, voice gentle, still kind sounding. “Now, Levi, how this works is, I’m going to have you lie down on top of the outline you just drew, and I’m going to trace around you with a different colored marker, so you can then compare your actual outline with the one you drew.”

Levi frowns, not understanding.

“The fuck’s the point ‘a that?” he asks, frustrated and tired. “You told me to draw what I look like. We already know…”

“I told you to draw what you think you look like, Levi,” Dr. Lawrence says.

Levi tugs at his hair, irritation pounding at his skull.

This was pointless. It was worse than pointless. It was fuckin’ embarrassing.

“Look, doc, I know I got a shit body. If you’re tryin’ to convince me I should be okay with that, I already am. It don’t matter. You can’t choose what kinda’ body you’re born with.”

“Please, Levi, just indulge me?”

Levi grinds his teeth.

“… Fine,” he spits, and crawls forward, feelin’ like an idiot as he lies atop the paper.

He closes his eyes as Dr. Lawrence crouches down, the sound of the marker’s tip loud in his ears as it drags around him.

He doesn’t wanna’ see.

He feels himself tense as the doc gets around his middle. Thinks about the doc’s hands brushin’ his sides, feelin’ the fat there.

It makes him dizzy with sudden fear.

“Okay, Levi, you can sit up now,” the doc tells him finally, and he’s got Levi by the arm, helping him up.

He don’t wanna’ look. Don’t wanna’ see what he already knows.

“Levi, can you take a look?” the doctor prompts, and Levi closes his eyes, pulling a sharp breath in through his nose.

Just look, he tells himself. The sooner you look, the sooner you can get outta’ here.

It didn’t matter anyway, he already knew. Saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

So he readies himself, and at last turns, and looks down at the paper.

For a moment, he doesn’t understand what he’s seein’.

Dr. Lawrence had used a red marker over his black.

Levi’d known the outlines would match. That’s what he’d thought, anyway.

But the red outline don’t match at all to the black.

It’s so much more narrow… everywhere, ‘cept at the shoulders. The shoulders are wider. Everything else is more narrow, tighter.

The only thing that really matches is the length…

The red outline’s short, like he is, but…

It’s… it’s a fine shape, he thinks. Maybe even athletic.

He don’t know…

He thinks, for a moment, the doc’s playin’ some sorta’ game.

“What do you think?” he asks, and Levi stares down at the paper.

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he says. “That ain’t right.”

“I assure you it is, Levi. That’s your outline. Your actual outline.”

The hell it was.

That didn’t make no sense.

Levi saw himself in the mirror every day. He… he saw himself. He saw himself naked in the shower.

That wasn’t what he looked like. It wasn’t. He don’t know how the doc pulled that off, but it wasn’t accurate.

“You can lie down again and match yourself to it, if you like,” Dr. Lawrence suggests, and Levi swallows.

“… You ain’t pullin’ some trick?” he asks, finally looking up at the doctor.

The doc looks at him, eyes pained as he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Levi. I promise. The red outline is your own.”

Levi is quiet a long time.

He doesn’t know what to say.

It was a nice body. It was…

… Maybe he really was crazy.

He had to be, if that’s what he really looked like, but all he saw instead was… was what he’d drawn.

“... I’m seein’ things,” he finally whispers, eyes burning. Fuck… fuck, he doesn’t wanna’ cry. “I’m seein’ things that ain’t there.”

Dr. Lawrence comes over and takes hold of his arm, and Levi doesn’t resist as he helps him up and back to his chair.

“That’s how anorexia often manifests, Lev,” the doctor says softly, sitting down across from him again. “It distorts your perception of yourself. It makes you see and feel your body in a way that isn’t at all accurate to reality. I know you feel fat and deformed, but your current proportions say otherwise.”

“… So I’m crazy.” Levi says, and his head spins with it.

He’d known that already.

Deep down, he’d known.

It was just… seeing it like this… seeing physical evidence like this…

He doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re unwell,” Dr. Lawrence says. “But we’re all here to help you, Levi. We want to help. You just have to let us.”

His vision blurs, and he can’t help the tears which swell and slip down his cheeks.

He wipes at them, trying to hide, but he knows Dr. Lawrence has already seen.

God, what was wrong with him?

How did he end up like this?

“I know this is overwhelming, Levi, and scary, and that’s okay. But, when you feel yourself falling into that kind of thinking, when you look in the mirror and see yourself as fat, or if you feel like you’re becoming fatter during or after eating a meal, I want you to think back on this exercise, and remember what the actual shape and size of your outline is. In fact, I’d like you to take this with you and keep it, and maybe you can look at it whenever you feel yourself questioning what you look like.”

Dr. Lawrence takes the paper from the floor, folding it back up and handing it to Levi.

Levi takes it and holds it in his lap.

He feels like such a fool.

Feels like an idiot child who can’t even tell reality from fantasy.

“Also, we’re almost out of time, but there’s a few other things I’d like you to try at home. Okay?”

Levi looks up at him, a nervous dread at what he’ll say.

“It’s nothing bad.” The doctor smiles, as if reading his thoughts. “I just want you to start keeping a journal, writing down your thoughts and feelings. It can be about anything, really. Memories you have, or how you’re feeling, physically or mentally. Maybe certain goals you have, or things you’re looking forward to. Anything on your mind. And then , if you want, in our next session, you can bring the journal in and read it to me. Or I can look over it if you don’t want to read aloud.”

Levi fidgets with the paper. It feels like a burning rock in his hands.

“… I can’t write,” he admits after a moment, voice hoarse. Shame burns his face, and he can’t look at the doc now.

“… You can a little, can’t you, Levi?”

“… Y-yeah, but… but I’m f-f… functionally illiterate. That’s what they call it. I can’t read or write past… past like 2nd or 3rd grade schooling. I never went to school.”

“That’s okay, Levi. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But how’re you gonna’ read it? I can’t write, doc. I can’t. I only know how to spell a few words right. And… and my handwriting’s shit, ever since I got my fingers blown off.”

“Well, if I can’t read it, you can read it for me?” Dr. Lawrence smiles patiently.

Levi wipes at his eyes, vision blurry.

“I’m even worse at readin’,” he mumbles, “probably even my own writing. I’m tellin’ you, doc…”

“Levi, it’s alright. It isn’t a test. There’s no right or wrong way to do this. No standard you have to match. I just want you to have an outlet to express yourself. It might be beneficial to you forming more healthy coping mechanisms. You don’t have to show it to me at all, if you’re uncomfortable. Really, it’s more for your own benefit, just so you have a way to get out what you’re feeling.”

“… Oh… Okay.”

“Also, and this is just a suggestion, try making a list of negative thoughts or beliefs you have about yourself, and for each one, I want you to come up with at least one argument against it and to provide evidence supporting that argument.”

That sounds fuckin’ impossible, but Levi nods anyway.

He don’t know if he’ll actually do it.

But he guesses the doc was expecting him to, so maybe he’d at least try.

He just wants to go home now.

He’s suddenly exhausted.

And so he’s relieved when Dr. Lawrence tells him their time is up.

“I’ll see you Friday, Levi,” the doc tells him. “Be good to yourself until then.”

Levi doesn’t say anything, just nods at the doctor before wheeling himself out, heading toward the elevators to meet Jean, waiting for him in the lobby below.

Waiting to take him home.