Chapter Text
~12 Miles from Fort Salta.
You were led into a camp that night upon horseback beside several cloaked men. The long ride west was tiring and the horses found trouble in travailing the earth that was scarred by the footprints of titans. You were nearly exhausted but being the only medical practitioner within 25 miles, you were told this case was urgent and the ride was absolutely necessary.
One of the cloaked men advised you to follow them inside a large tent at the head of the camp when you arrived. It was quiet and you heard little noise from inside the arranging tents. The only sound to be heard was the wind that carried through the canyon when you were met with a man upon entrance into the large tent ahead of you.
He was blonde, thin in stature and he was sitting at the head of a table, reading a map by the dim lantern light at his side. He introduced himself after standing to shake your hand and you were surprised by his revealed identity.
"My name is Armin Arlert. Two days ago, I was still Commander of the Survey Corps based on the island of Paradis. But, I think it's safe to say that after the events here, we'll be dissolved soon."
You bowed your head in a gesture of reverence and asked what was being requested of your medical expertise and Armin cocked his head up for you to follow into the next tent, he spoke softly as you both moved with quiet feet in the desert dirt.
"Captain Levi, our strongest on the squad, he's taken significant injury that we've done our best to treat with our own knowledge, but we don't want to hinder his recovery by not letting a professional take a look at him. I don't believe he would fare well with a ride anywhere, we needed someone brought here to the camp."
There was no lantern burning inside the next tent where you were being led, but Armin rose one from the dirt beside the entrance, lighting it quickly for you to see inside.
Levi slept upon a cot and his face read of a state of wavering pain that couldn't have been granting him peaceful rest. Armin stood, holding open the curtain opening and he mentioned in a soft voice, almost serving as a cautionary word of advice in dealing with the captain,
"He is a little disagreeable at first. But I promise he'll warm up to new company."
You promised that you could deal with an unpleasant patient. Marley had a surplus of injured soldiers swearing God and all of the above as you treated their injuries. You had thought you'd seen it all but you did want to approach this lightly.
Armin thanked you again, then left you alone to begin your assessment of Levi's wounds.
You removed your riding cloak and knelt at his bedside to remove some of your medical supplies, including gauze and antiseptic. You quieted the chatelaine at your belt to keep from chattering together as you moved but it appeared to be too late. Levi turned his head with a look that pointed daggers right toward you.
"Captain.." You began in a polite introduction, "I'm-"
He interrupted you quickly, a grunt of pain beneath his words as he spoke,
"I told Armin that nobody needed to treat me. Why...did I think he would listen?"
"Well..it sounds like you have kind people looking out for you. Do you mind if I have a look? I hear that your leg is in critical condition." You asked and he shot his unbandaged eye upwards in a sneer that he used to deflate your kindness,
"I'd rather you just kick rocks. I'm fine with the morphine and keeping the bandages clean."
You turned your face, seeing him as he was now after these harrowing turn of events. Hardened and unforgiving. Even towards acts of good nature. You remained determined to show him that you weren't accepting ‘no’ for an answer when it came to healing someone who had done so much for the sake of humanity.
"Captain, If you're well enough, I promise I'll buzz off and leave you be-" You told him with an added firmness for emphasis but you wanted to make it clear that he wouldn't be left to deal with critical injuries with only the help of morphine and bandages,
"But I'm here to make sure you survive these injuries, not vice versa. You can consider me as good as gone...but only if you're healed enough."
He sighed in defeat, figuring this couldn't possibly be the worst thing that's happened since the battle of Heaven and Earth so he gave in, telling you that he was fine if you wanted to assess him closer. He watched you raise your work gown to stand to your feet, staring with his one eye to study how seriously you were taking your duties. As if his healing was your goal in living at the moment.
You told him you'd begin with the worst, his leg. You stood by the bed, leaning over as he lay resting but he still watched you closely. You didn't know if he was decent under his blanket and you didn't want to embarrass him by removing it. After moving the bottom of the sheet upwards, you saw the harrowing sight of a gaping, mangled laceration across his thigh that must have been plaguing him in pain.
Usually, you were never left speechless. You'd seen limbs torn and shredded from violence inside of war. Men blinded by fire, deafened and bleeding from the cannons, but this was so much worse. How was he not howling for someone to put a bullet in his skull to take away the torment? Humanity's Strongest, they called him. It had to be gospel.
"A titan..." He mentioned weakly, trying to hold his head up but letting it fall back to the pillow in a drop,
"I was bitten by a titan."
"You're lucky it didn't take your leg." You mentioned, lighting a lantern to hang from the thin rafter above the cot.
"It could've. But...they saved me. Damn brats. Must think they're hot shit now because they're saving humanity and all. Big whoop."
You smiled softly but didn't want to take your attention away from the sight below you. You saw the tearing of his flesh that left this femur exposed, and knew someone on the grounds must have had some sort of medical training due to the cauterized areas within the cuts. Most likely to stop the bleeding and save the arteries from further damage.
"Am I gonna make it or not?" He asked tiredly after letting you have a moment to study the injury. He looked up suddenly, noticing the way you let the hair fall in your face when you held a heavy focus, almost letting his gaze soften at the sight as you answered honestly.
"Your femur is shattered." You began tensely, "They've taken good care of your torn skin, there's no sign of infection. But we can't risk bacteria getting to your broken bone. We need to suture what we can and cast your leg with what we have. If not...amputation is our only resort."
"Fantastic." He grumbled.
You mentioned that the suturing and providing support for his femur needn't wait until morning. You could tell by the slowness of his voice that he was already undergoing the effects of what you had to assume was morphine, so it wasn't wise to administer more of the drug for anesthetic. He was smaller, afterall. Smaller than you assumed in stature for a man that seemed so prolific and legendary amongst his peers.
You reached in your bag, knowing there was only one other thing that could act as pain relief and you presented a bottle of whiskey, half drank already but enough left to have a numbing effect.
He blinked slowly, shaking his head to the circumstances that he'd finally drink again and he muttered in a groan,
"Alright, let's party, I guess. But get me a glass. I'm not drinking from the bottle like some filthy pirate."