Author's notes: This is me coping. I am coping.

Warnings: light language

Connie was clutching a picture frame in his left hand when he and Captain Levi returned. The knuckles had gone white, and trembled at his side. Without a word, he let Historia direct him to his room. He looked… awful. Worse than he had after the Titan attack on Trost.

Levi, on the other hand… Eren hadn't known the soldier very long, not even two months, but he had begun to realize that Levi took on a certain appearance when he was truly shaken. He became closed. Eren hadn't seen the Captain's expression so locked since the return journey from the disaster that had been the 57th Expedition.

"I see you kept the place tidy, Eren," Levi observed. As usual, he took the time to scrape the mud off his boots before proceeding into the house. Eren gave Jean a pointed look, and the other teen casually flipped him off once Levi's back was turned. Eren returned the gesture before answering his Captain.

"We did our best."

"Jean kept forgetting to wipe off his boots," Sasha muttered. Jean cursed loudly, and turned on his comrade with indignation. Historia shook her head at them lightly as she came into the room. These antics between Jean and Sasha had been going on for days now.

Armin had been running inventory again—with how expensive supplies were, he took painstaking measures to ration everything in preparation for their next delivery—and now he came back into the kitchen/dining room where the rest of his friends were gathering. The newly formed Squad already spent most of its time here, talking around the table as a fire was kept in the hearth.

Mikasa had been with the group from the moment Levi and Connie had entered, and so far she had said nothing. Eren had noticed that she became very quiet whenever Levi was around, and again he wondered what had happened between them.

Tch. It was a small noise Levi used to express his disapproval, and never had Eren dreaded a small noise so greatly. He watched as the Captain swept narrow eyes over them all. "And this is the new squad I'm stuck with," he muttered.

"I-I thought you chose us." Armin's stammer made a rare comeback, indicating his confusion.

"I did," Levi answered. Everyone fell silent. Levi reached into a lower cabinet that no one had known was there, and retrieved a dust-coated bottle. He gave it a distasteful look and immediately started cleaning it.

"Sir…" Jean was the first to speak. "That's whisky."

Trust Jean to know a drink from just a bottle. Eren still couldn't tell stuff apart by sniffing it, much less taste. Alcohol wasn't his thing, though. And nor was it Levi's. Eren had never seen the Captain drink anything other than water and tea.

"Very observant of you, Kirschtein," Levi said dryly. He pulled off the cap. The bottle hadn't been opened before. Eren watched as the soldier poured himself a glass—not enough to knock him off-balance, yet Eren still thought it was strange for Levi to be drinking at all.

The Captain took a chair by the table, acquired mug in hand. He saw Eren's look. "Leg," he said curtly, and Mikasa flinched. Eren didn't see her from where he stood. Armin's eyes shifted between his friend and his Captain, wondering what the connection in reactions was. He had suspected for a while now that Mikasa was somehow responsible for Levi's injury.

Eren nodded, uttering the appropriate yes sir, but he still couldn't bring himself to accept what was happening. Even shortly after his injury, when the pain had to have been at its worst, Levi hadn't touched so much as a beer. Something else was bothering the soldier.

The teen wasn't sure if he should ask. He remembered how much he had hated it when people asked him about his pains. Even more so, however, he remembered how much he wished people would ask. "Captain—"

They all turned as the front door was opened, and Squad Leader Hanji called to see if anyone was inside. Her voice still carried through the entire building, but it seemed subdued. First Connie, now Levi, and now Hanji. What had happened out there? Eren thought he could see Levi's jaw tighten for a second. "We're in here, Hanji," the Captain called back.

Hanji entered through the kitchen door. She hummed appreciatively at the fire Jean was currently restocking. "Cozy here, isn't it?" she remarked. Her eye was caught by the mug of whisky in Levi's hand, and her brows lifted in an expression that was somehow not surprise. "I never pegged you as the drinking type, Levi."

"The leg doesn't agree with this mountain weather," Levi answered, his voice bearing just a hint of impatience. "It just needs a few days."

"I thought it was nearly healed."

Levi stared up at Hanji evenly. The look she returned was almost sad. "Apparently not," Levi said, his voice bordering on a growl. He almost seemed defensive. This wasn't a Levi Eren had ever seen before.

Hanji sighed, pulling over a chair for herself and taking the bottle off the table. Levi's eyes widened as she tilted her head back and started chugging. Then his eyes narrowed into that distasteful expression again, because Hanji still couldn't be bothered to be hygienic.

After four gulps that left Jean sputtering in shock by the fireplace, Hanji slammed the whisky back down on the table. Unlike Levi, Eren had seen her drink many times in the past. But never like that. Hanji propped her arms on the back of her chair, staring at Levi. Levi returned the stare silently.

"It sucks," Hanji stated. Levi neither nodded nor shook his head nor did anything at all. He was eerily still. "It's the worst thing we've stumbled across, Levi, but don't forget it's only a theory. We don't have any proof. There's nothing to suggest that you're—"

"I have never needed your help coping in the past, Hanji," Levi said flatly. His squad was stock-still, watching the exchange between the officers. "And I do not need it now."

"Levi… if this is true, it could mean…"

"Shut up," Levi murmured. He stood up and set his unfinished whisky on the table. "Shut your damn mouth."

He stalked out of the room, out of the house. Eren started to follow him, but Hanji ordered him to stay. "Nobody can approach Levi when he's like this," she explained. She smiled a little, recalling something. "He hasn't been this way since his early years."

"What happened?" Armin asked. Hanji just shook her head and told them to look after Connie. Levi handled these things best alone. With that, the Squad Leader took her leave. She had a lot of work to do.

Connie's pretense of being fine lasted for about five seconds. Then Sasha was holding him as he wailed, clutching the picture of his family to his chest, and everyone drew in close. Eren was cursing under his breath, his resolve to destroy the Titans renewed. He couldn't let them continue destroying the lives of those around him. He wouldn't.

Connie couldn't tell them anything. And they could see the unspoken words were burning on his tongue.

The last time Levi had cried was more than a decade ago. It couldn't really be considered crying, though. Erwin and Hanji had been forced to grab a tiny man in arm locks as he screamed his grief to a brutally clear sky. He had always hated summer.

Levi had gone out perhaps a dozen kilometers from the house. It was strange to travel on foot through terrain like this, rather than on horseback. He had decided to sit down, back propped against a tree, and he looked up at a sky that was just as brutally clear as the one from that day. He had noticed it when he, Hanji, and Connie had set out that morning.

He could feel it, a twisting knot rising up in his stomach. Levi hadn't screamed in over a decade. Was he going to do it again today? He thought he might. That's why he had come all the way out here.

Now that he was alone, all he could do was think. The sun was hot, even through the layers of branches, and Levi's head bowed as his thoughts continued to turn. What Hanji had discovered, the mere possibility that every Titan was like Eren and Reiner and Bertholdt, that each one of them had a human trapped inside… if it proved true, and Levi was certain that it would, he was going to have to come to terms with the reality of what he was.

Not a soldier. A murderer. A damned mass murderer. Sixty-three by himself, and add to that all the people who had lost their lives because of his orders, his squad. Levi's fingers clenched into fists as the images flashed across his mind again, the seared memories of his squad's scattered bodies. Petra, the still-naïve woman who had wanted to devote herself to him. Oluo, who imitated him and thought he hadn't noticed. Eldo, the definition of steadfast. Gunther, bearing the marks of a great strategist.

Soldiers who had died under his watch. And if or when what Hanji had discovered turned out to be true, then would it mean they had died for nothing? That in truth, when they had believed so strongly they were fighting for humanity, they were actually fighting against humanity? That they hadn't reduced the kill count in humans at all, but simply added to it?

Damn. Damn it all. Levi's fingers gripped his head, tight enough to hurt, and he screamed. It was an unnatural sound to burst from his throat, raw and wild and so much who he really was that it terrified him. Eren wasn't the only monster in the Survey Corps. Levi had been here first.

He made himself quiet down. It was a few moments before the birds started singing again. Levi was on his feet with pistol drawn and his thumb on the hammer. Jean put his hands up quickly, indicating he was no threat to the Captain. Levi noted the bottle the young soldier carried; the whisky he had left behind.

"We're both on duty, Kirschtein," Levi pointed out, concealing the pistol once again in the folds of his jacket. Now that he had finally been cleared to wear his uniform again, he had no need to. "Neither of us can get drunk."

"Of course, sir," Jean replied as he lowered his hands. He paused, looking at the bottle. The look on his face was far too understanding for a boy of fifteen years; Levi remembered Armin telling him that Jean had a way of getting inside of people's heads. It was what gave him such strong leadership capabilities.

Jean walked over to Levi, still carrying himself with all the nervousness of a recruit interacting with an officer, and handed him one of the two mugs he had brought. "But sometimes, Captain, you just need to drink," he said. He hesitated briefly before continuing. "If I hadn't gone and made myself an emotional wreak before the Expedition… I probably would have given up by now."

"You really believe that breaking is so necessary to being strong?" Levi found it doubtful.

"I wouldn't say that," Jean replied. He was quiet. Levi had never seen him behave this way when his classmates were around. "A friend of mine once told me that I'm not strong at all. So maybe it's different for you, Captain, since you're strong. I only know that if I didn't give myself time to break before everything goes to hell again, I wouldn't be here."

Levi looked up at the man. He wasn't a boy, not by any means. "Who stayed with you?" he asked.

"Reiner. He cried, too."

Levi nodded. Jean somehow knew that the Captain was going to follow his suggestion, and the two of them sat at the tree with the bottle between them. Levi didn't have to tell Jean to keep his silence. He knew he didn't have to.

Levi had forgotten how good and numbing a strong whisky could be.