A/N: The fascinating characters of Shingeki no Kyojin ~ Attack on Titan ~ do not belong to me, but to their esteemed creator. Enjoy~ xD

At His Command

For all his foresight and tactical competence, not even Erwin Smith had been able to predict the outcome of the battle. His usually quick mind struggled to comprehend Levi's report; harsh words in an icy tone – made harsher by the utter lack of care or cursing that so often peppered the other man's speech – that spoke of their greatest loss in very long time.

Their best and brightest; all killed in action.

Decimated. Slaughtered. Annihilated.

Dead.

Erd Gin. Auruo Bossard. Gunter Shulz. Petra Ral.

Erwin knew their names, their faces. Levi had known them. He had talked to them personally – each and every one of them. Levi had accepted them, had lived with them, had fought with them, had bled with them; had personally chosen them – each and every one of them.

At his command, they had fought; not even knowing why. At Levi's command, they had fought; because he was their captain, the one who had chosen them, the one they had chosen to follow.

At his command, they had died; obeying their orders with their last breaths. At Levi's command, they had died, died believing in him; they had died for him.

For humanity. Erwin knew what it would cost Levi, knew that it could break him, but Levi was only one man.

After all, what was one man compared to all humanity? What was one man compared to hope?

For freedom. Levi could not – would not – bring himself to regret his decision. They had honoured him with their trust – until the bitter end they had followed his orders, followed him – and he would honour their lives, their beliefs, their deaths, their sacrifice – what they lived for, what they died for, their struggles, their pain; the tears they cried, the blood they shed, it would not be in vain.

After all, what was a soldier or two compared to freedom? What was a soldier or two compared to the rivers of blood that had been shed, compared to the sacrifices burnt at the altar of survival, of a new dawn?

There was no comparison.

The air in the tent was heavy; unspoken tension hanging between them. They were still on the battlefield, and yet Erwin could sense that the bond straining between them had nothing to do with their professional relationship as commander and subordinate.

'Levi.'

The captain halted in his tracks, his back still turned. Erwin hesitated.

'If that is all-'

Abandoning his role as commander altogether, Erwin interjected, 'There will be no one there.'

He didn't think it was possible, but Levi's figure stiffened even further. The tension now was so thick that it was suffocating. The blond man gripped his pen, so tightly he feared he might accidentally snap it in half.

The wind rustled the flap of the tent. Neither man moved.

Then, Levi turned around; the complete and utter blankness on the other man's face betrayed by the soul-searing anguish that burned in his eyes. Erwin was glad that he had remained sitting; he was sure that he would've fallen otherwise.

The man standing before him was a captain who had just lost his entire squad.

The man standing before him was his lover who had just lost all his comrades.

The last one standing.

Erwin couldn't breathe.

He could've lost the man he loved.

'Stay.'

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the desperate whisper lingered between them. After all, it was because of him that Levi had lost his squad. He was their commander; he was the one who had given them the orders that had led to their deaths.

It was a necessary tactic, but one that was not necessarily forgivable, especially considering the circumstance.

Erwin wouldn't blame Levi if he just left.

However, something in his eyes, in his expression, must've touched the captain because Levi's blank expression had melted away, along with the tautness in his body. Grief and exhaustion clung to the younger man, and Erwin ached to take him into his arms, to hold him.

To prove to himself that Levi was still here.

The commander averted his eyes. He had no right to ask for this, especially not now.

'Erwin.'

The blond snapped to attention; the husky whisper his only warning before blue eyes fluttered shut and Levi just dropped. Banging his hip on the edge of his table in his haste, Erwin lunged forward, barely making it in time to catch the captain, slamming a knee into the ground to keep his balance. Clutching the limp figure close to him, cradling the smaller man against his chest, Erwin buried his face in black hair, his eyes tightly shut. The clean scent of his lover was barely detectable, nearly entirely masked by the stench of gore, blood, dirt, smoke, ash and Titan. If it weren't for the slight movement of Levi's chest, the breaths against Erwin's skin and the heat that burned through the uniform, he could've sworn that the captain was nothing more than a lifeless corpse.

A bitter, empty chuckle escaped him as he wondered what the soldiers would think; their legendary and immovable, seemingly invulnerable commander on his knees and Humanity's Strongest Soldier unconscious, bleeding, broken in his arms.

Because in this moment, Erwin was anything but the commander he was supposed to be. Tomorrow, no, later tonight, the soldiers would need them both again; neither the dead nor the living could wait that long.

But, in this moment, Erwin was selfishly glad that Levi was alive. Levi had survived where everyone else had died. He had returned to Erwin.

Had returned to Erwin, unlike Levi's subordinates, who would never return to him.

In this moment, Erwin was selfishly relieved that he had not lost Levi. Had not lost him to death the way Levi had lost everyone else he cared for; that he did not have to live with the loss the way Levi would because Levi was still here.

Still here, unlike Levi's comrades, who weren't.

And, Erwin was selfishly glad that he still had him. That Levi had still trusted Erwin to catch him even if Erwin had been the one to clip his wings in the first place; they had died by Levi's commands, commands which Erwin had given to the captain. That Levi still loved Erwin, and was willing to allow the commander this small comfort; Erwin could still protect Levi.

Protect Levi the way Levi had not been able to protect his squad.

Erwin always chose to put humanity first. At his command, Levi would fight. He always chose to put freedom first. At his command, Levi would die.

But in this moment, Erwin would put Levi first. Stripping the younger man down to his undershirt, Erwin tucked him into the commander's makeshift bed, piling the blankets around him. He then climbed into the bed himself, curling around Levi, spooning his partner from behind, carefully avoiding Levi's bandaged leg and other injuries. He draped his arm over Levi's thin waist, rubbing circles on a jutting hipbone with his thumb.

There was no response.

Not that Erwin was expecting any, but he wondered if he was so far gone that he would cry over something so small. Eyes burning traitorously, he tightened his arms around Levi, nuzzling his lover's neck.

In this moment, he just wanted to forget.

At his command, they would fight.

On the torn, blood-stained green cloak thrown carelessly over the back of the chair, the Wings of Freedom rippled; humanity's hope.

At his command, they would die.

In the bonfire, bathed in blood, burning, burning, the Wings of Freedom would no longer fly; shattered in sacrifice.

They were soldiers; trained to fight. They were soldiers; born to die.

For humanity.

For freedom.