When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. [Henri Nouwen]

Hanji was curled up in the hospital bed, glasses nowhere to be found and messy ponytail loose for once.

Thick bandages peeked out from underneath the covers and Levi sat down on the chair next to them with a sigh. He was dead tired after holding off a mob of Titans with his squad when the mission went to hell. They had distracted the Titans in order to let the wagons with the injured pass on the way back to the gate.

Thankfully, no member of his Special Ops Squad was injured badly enough to warrant a stay at the infirmary. Eld had a dislocated shoulder from a botched swing at a 15m-class and Olou had suffered some scratches and bruises as well as a minor concussion when colliding with the ground, but no major damage.

Hanji being out of commission was a blow to the machinery of the Survey Corps, though. Levi couldn't stand the silence at his usual table in the mess hall with Eld and Olou absent and missing Hanji's excited chatter. He had scooped down his soup quickly and then found his feet wandering into the infirmary.

Just as he'd settled for a long vigil over his injured comrade, Hanji stirred with a whimper.

„Four-Eyes?"

As they were obviously in the throes of a nightmare, Hanji started trashing and Levi quickly bent over the bed and gathered their wrists in a firm grip.
„Easy, dumbass. You wouldn't want to tear your wounds open again." Shit, he knew he was no good at comforting people.

Hanji bucked up against him and moaned in pain. „Stop fucking moving, you freak!"

Finally, bloodshot eyes fluttered open. Dim recognition sparked and Hanji relaxed. „Levi...?"

„No, the fucking king on his big fat golden throne. Are you that blind without your shitty glasses?"

A huff. „You should be nice, I'm hurt after all."

Levi let go of their wrists and settled back into his chair, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

„You gave poor Moblit half a heart attack. Get some sense of self-preservation, you little shitstain."

Their lack of a reponse about some Titan's fascinating attributes or whatnot was proof of their miserable state and Levi felt worry tugging at the center of his chest.

Hanji squints in the dim room. In a small voice, they ask: „Don't leave?"

„I'm not going anywhere", Levi huffs. After all, Hanji has become a part of him after all the years of seeing battle-hardened veterans and fresh recruits alongside getting swallowed by the monsters that lurk outside the Walls, the small core of Scouts that stayed alive for mission after mission had formed a close-knit family.

Hanji is the person that always manages to pull him out of his dark thoughts and provides an outlet for the ever-present tension that keeps him up at night by enduring his shitty sense of humor.

The relieved look in their eyes makes Levi half-afraid of how they place that much trust in him since Levi brings his own demons to every room he enters.

„Come here, then." Hanji pats the space next to them on the bed.

He shakes his head. „You're hurt." No matter how many times they've already spooned for warmth under the endless expanse of stars or huddled together on sleepless nights, he's always worried about startling awake on the wrong end of a dream and jamming a knife between their ribs.

„Good thing you don't take up a lot of space, then."

He looks up and there is something on their face that makes him relent. All the veterans have them: Nights were you simply need another living, breathing human next to you to shake you out of the ghosts whispering in the dark.

Levi takes off his boots, leaves the thin knife in its sheath hidden in the left one, methodically removes gear straps and finally the ever-present cravat and hops up on the bed.

„No drooling, am I understood?"

Hanji grins. „Wouldn't think of it."

Levi carefully aligns against their side and snatches his portion of the blanket. Hanji wriggles and slings their arm over him. They hesitate a moment, then curl up even closer.

„Hey, I'm not your teddy bear", he half-heartedly complains, because Hanji always ends up too close for comfort.

A cold nose brushes his neck and Levi shudders. „Would it help if I told you you're the best teddy bear I've had in my life?", they mutter drowsily.

„Tch. Go to sleep already."

Levi wakes up in the middle of the night to Hanji carding their fingers through his hair and, what the fuck, emitting an almost purring noise.

„What are you doing?", he rasps and tries to get away. Hanji throws one arm over his chest and keeps him in place.

„Would you grow out your hair so I can braid it?", they slur.

Levi is not prepared for such a question in his sleep-addled state of mind. „Huh?"

„It's so pretty..."

Whatever they're doing does kinda feel nice, so he closes his eyes and leans back into their touch. „Thanks, I guess, but I sort of like it the way it is."

He remembers something. „And if you'd wash that disgusting nest on top of your head more often it'd be softer, too."

„Heh." A few moments pass. „You know what, Levi?"

He deigns to indulge them. „What, Four-Eyes?"

The only response is a snore. Levi huffs and tries to go back to sleep. „Typical."

Naturally, Levi wakes up first, as his brain hates him and always has him up at the ass-crack of dawn. He unentangles himself from the knot of limbs that is half-draped over him and dresses in the dark, gathering his harness in his hands.

Silently he moves to the door and can't help a lopsided smile at the sight of Hanji's open mouth, mussed hair and twisted position.

„Get well soon, idiot", he whispers, tone softer than usual, and slips out.