Chapter Text
At this point, the biggest threat in Hange’s life was exhaustion. It devoured them, munching away on their flesh and bones like the cruellest of titans. And no matter how deep those bites were, Hange just wouldn’t sleep. Exhaustion was not just a physical feeling anymore: it had become something greater, a monster intent on consuming their heart and soul. They had spent so long fighting for humanity. But what use would they be to humanity like this, pacing their quarters, worrying like a new parent? More than, in fact. Because there wasn’t only one child they had to worry about: they had to worry about the entire damned Survey Corps.
It was getting to the point where they didn’t even bother trying to sleep. What was the point? Sleep wouldn’t come, and even if it did…shit. How many times could they replay all those deaths in their head? How many times could they watch Moblit and Erwin and the cadets reach out to them with bloodied hands, crying and screaming and crying some more? How many times could they wake up with tears gushing down their face?
Be strong, they told themselves. For them.
But strength was getting more and more out of reach, and soon, it was impossible to keep their grief at bay.
But then, the exhaustion. It was like choosing between a rock and a hard place, a titan and the devil itself. Exhaustion or grief? Grief or exhaustion?
That night, they chose exhaustion.
They didn’t even bother undressing. Instead, they headed straight outside into the crisp night air, letting the cold gently bite at their skin. It felt strange to be out here, all alone. The sky above them seemed too dark, too strange; the silence surrounding them was louder than any scream.
Their legs were shaking. Instead of sitting, they practically fell down to the ground, stretching their legs out in front of them. They had a headache. It was just starting behind the eyes, creeping down to push against their jaw. Erwin told them the types of headache once, on one of the rare occasions the three of them were sitting and drinking together without feeling the immediate threat of titans. What was it he said? If it’s at the back of the head, it’s tension. If it’s at the front, it’s stress. If it’s pure pain, it’s a migraine. Was that right? No, that didn’t sound right…
They were beginning to forget Erwin’s voice. Moblit’s too. One day, when Hange met their inevitable end, maybe everyone would forget them, too. It would be Levi sitting here, all alone, trying to recall things Hange had said to him. Grief was a baton, passed from person to person. Hange had received that baton the day Erwin and Moblit died. How much longer before they would need to pass it on to Levi?
“You, too?”
Hange flinched so hard, they swore they must have dislocated at least two limbs.
They turned, blinking in surprise.
“Did I just summon you in my head?” they asked.
Levi gave Hange a dead look. “What?”
“Never mind.”
Maybe that headache was worse than they’d thought. Maybe they had concussion—or maybe they had fallen asleep after all and they were dreaming. Or maybe, Levi Ackerman the resident insomniac also couldn’t sleep. That was the most logical conclusion, Hange supposed, though it was difficult to be logical when they hadn’t slept for days. Time was beginning to turn into a blur. At this point, Hange wouldn’t be surprised if they passed out in the middle of battle.
You need to stop this, they thought. It was because of the titans, they supposed. Not enough fighting meant too much time to think, and too much time to think meant inevitable grief periods.
They groaned aloud, and Levi frowned in what might have even been concern.
“Headache,” Hange muttered.
Levi didn’t say anything, though it was obvious he didn’t believe it. Instead, he sat down beside them, not too close, and turned those eyes on Hange. God, those stupid eyes. Maybe it was part of the Ackerman thing, but Hange was willing to place bets that somehow, Levi could read people’s minds with those eyes of his.
After a moment of peering at them, Levi very kindly said, “You look like shit.”
Hange snorted. “Thanks. You don’t look too great yourself. It’s not healthy to sleep as little as you do, you know.”
“Cheap advice coming from you,” Levi said at once. “Last time I checked we were both awake at stupid o’clock, Four Eyes.” He paused. Then added: “You haven’t been sleeping as much, either.”
“Are you observing my sleep schedule now? And here I thought the bathing was getting too personal.”
“Like hell. If I didn’t do it, you would be fucking filthy.”
“Heaven forbid we get ourselves dirty in this wonderful time of war,” Hange muttered, rolling their eyes. But there was no feeling in it, no real anger. There was no way of getting angry at him. They only had each other, after all. “The leftovers,” Hange said aloud.
Levi stared at them. “What?”
Hange shook their head. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”
“Well, don’t. Headaches are contagious when they’re yours.”
“Evidence that sleep deprivation really does reduce brainpower,” Hange said.
Levi scoffed, but Hange knew better: there was the faintest ghost of a smile on his face, a sight so rare it would sell for millions.
And despite themselves, Hange couldn’t help but smile, too. It was nice to have him here. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but they might even go as far as to argue it was comforting, even if he was a grumpy short-stack with a bad attitude. He was all those things, but he was also the closest thing Hange had to home these days.
They couldn’t help but observe him now that this comfortable silence had fallen around them. He looked even more exhausted than her; the dark circles under his eyes had grown darker and darker. At least he looked a little less malnourished—shoving plates of food onto his desk and ordering him to eat was working, after all, even if it did make him more and more irritable each time. They took care of each other. If they didn’t, no one would, least of all themselves.
Hange felt a sudden, unexpected surge of gratitude towards him. For being here. For existing. For ‘putting up with’ them, as he liked to call it.
It wasn’t like Hange to get so emotional. God, I really need to sleep.
They thought of the grief baton again, and somehow found themselves talking before they could even form the words in their head.
“Do you think I was really the right choice?”
Somehow, even without clarification, Levi knew what they meant.
“You’re a good leader, Hange. The brats respect you. That’s important.”
Hange sighed softly. “I don’t feel like a good leader. I feel like a complete and utter failure.” They paused. Then, quietly: “I don’t know how to deal with all of this.”
“I don’t think anyone would,” Levi said, and his voice was softer than they’d ever heard it.
“I keep trying to think…trying to figure out…how Erwin would react to all of this. How he’d deal with Eren.”
Levi was silent. Perhaps it was still too painful, too raw. Years had gone by, and yet, he had been the one to make that choice. It was a heavy burden to bear, and Hange understood. Every day, they remembered Moblit. The way he’d shoved them out of the way, the way he’d sacrificed himself so that Hange could live. Hange remembered his hand pushing them away every single day. It was the first thought they had when they woke up, and the last thought they had before they fell asleep.
The pain numbed, but it never went away. That burden just grew heavier and heavier and heavier.
And now Hange was responsible for everyone.
And they were failing.
“It doesn’t matter,” Levi said suddenly.
Hange glanced at him, blinking. He met their eyes with a fierceness Hange rarely saw outside of battle.
“Fuck what Erwin would do,” he said. “He’s dead. He’s dead, and we’re not. So it doesn’t matter what he’d do. It doesn’t matter what he’d think. It doesn’t matter how he’d react. What matters is what you do, what you think, how you react.”
“I’m reacting badly,” Hange said. “I can’t deal with this.”
“Bullshit.”
Hange frowned. “Levi.”
“I said bullshit,” he repeated, a little firmer this time. “You’re doing just fine. But you know what’s not going to help? You staying awake to avoid nightmares.”
Shit. Mind-reader. He had to be one.
Hange was looking away before they even realised they were doing it.
“Hey, Four Eyes. Look at me.”
It was somehow harder than ever to meet his eyes, but they did.
“You can’t even focus,” Levi admonished. “I mean it. If you don’t sleep, I’ll knock you out and tie you to your bed myself.”
Despite his tone and glaring eyes, Hange smiled.
We’ll look after each other, they thought, until we’re both gone. Won’t we? We’ll take care of each other until there’s no one left to take care of.
“All right,” Hange said. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll start trying to sleep more, on one condition: you do the same.”
Levi raised an eyebrow. Without missing a beat, he said, “No.”
“You can’t lecture me and then do the exact same thing,” Hange reasoned. “We have time now. There’s no better time to get your shit together and sort out your sleep schedule.” Their eyes lit up. “In fact, we can make it an experiment! The benefits of sleep for people who never sleep.”
“I’m not becoming one of your shitty experiments. I want you to sleep so you can do your fucking job right.”
The words were harsh, but his tone was surprisingly soft. And there it was again, that ghost smile. Not a smile, but nearly there.
“Well, ditto,” said Hange. “I want you to sleep so you can continue being humanity’s strongest without looking like a walking corpse. Oh…but maybe if you look dead already, the Marleyans won’t shoot you? Maybe we could use that…”
Levi snorted. “Evidence that sleep deprivation really does reduce brainpower,” he muttered.
Hange grinned. It was like he’d lit up a light inside them, dragging them away from all their moping. It was a very temporary feeling, but it was a nice reprieve from all that weighty grief.
Which made them wonder...
“Oh! Oh! I have an idea!” Hange cried suddenly.
Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, already shaking his head. “For fuck’s sake. What now?”
Hange sat up on their knees, moving closer so they could try and grab his hand. Levi immediately snatched it away from them, and this time, when he met their eyes, he looked weary.
Well, whatever. That look wasn’t new. Everyone was tired of Hange’s antics, and everyone regretted being tired of them when they actually worked.
“Some people sleep with their pets or partners, don’t they?” Hange said.
Levi stared. “Yeah? And?”
“Neither of us can sleep,” Hange said, “because we’re having chronic nightmares.”
“I never said that.”
“Neither did I. It’s called perception. Anyway—I’m sure our nightmares are very similar, and are a result of the same thing. Grief.”
“Where is this going?”
“We should sleep together!”
Levi’s eyes widened, just a fraction, but enough to show he was taken aback. “That is the shittiest idea I’ve ever fucking heard, and we’re not doing it.”
Hange peered at him. Even in the darkness, she could see his cheeks colouring. “Are you blushing?”
“No—will you move?”
Hange had moved closer still, and tried to grab his hand again. He snatched it away for a second time, shooting them a warning look. This was promptly ignored.
“Move,” he said again.
“No,” said Hange, very calmly. “Anyway, I don’t mean sleep together sexually if that’s what you’re thinking--”
“That is not what I’m thinking—”
“--What I mean is it would be far better to share our troubles--”
“That’s enough.”
“--So that we can both fight the insomnia together. It would make sense, since our nightmares are mostly about losing people, and the same people at that so--”
“Hey! Are you listening? Stop talking.”
“--My hypothesis is this: if we sleep together, we may find it easier to sleep more frequently and for longer periods of time—we can try and do this over a set amount of time and then afterwards, if we start seeing good results, we can either continue or--”
“Hey. What did I just say?”
“You can’t tell me what to do, I’m the Commander—anyway…”
They rambled on for a few more minutes, ignoring every one of Levi’s interjections, until finally, Levi cracked.
“Fine,” he sighed.
Hange stopped immediately, blinking rapidly. “Hmm?”
“Fine,” he repeated. “Fine. If it shuts you up, then fine, I’ll do it. But I have--”
“Yes! I just know this is going to be a good idea--”
“I have conditions, Hange.”
“I’m sure this will have a positive effect, and even if it doesn’t, well, what have we got to lose? And it’s not like privacy is an issue, we’ve seen each other naked lots of times--”
“We are not sleeping together naked. That’s condition number one. Condition number two--”
“Oh, though I suppose your bed is smaller than mine—we’ll have to use mine, it just makes more sense--”
“Hange.”
He grabbed their hand, and for a moment, Hange stopped.
“Condition number two,” Levi started again, “is that if we must do this in your room, I want it clean.”
“Oh, the cleanliness thing again--” Hange began, and Levi immediately put his other hand over their mouth.
“Condition number three: this is between you and I. I don’t want anyone else finding out. Condition number four: you get a week. Just one week. Understood?”
Hange pushed his hand away. “You know, you ought to be less rude to your commanding officers. I could have you punished for insubordination for that.”
Levi looked about as frightened of that as he would be a titan. “Is it understood or not?” And then, sarcastically, he added, “Commander?”
Hange grinned. “Two weeks.”
“One week.”
“Two weeks. We might need time to adjust first.”
“Fucking hell, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” Levi muttered. “Fine. Two weeks. But that’s all you get. If you try for any longer I’ll kill you.”
“You wish. I could take you,” Hange said. And even when Levi rolled his eyes at them, Hange couldn’t wipe that shit-eating grin from their face.