Morning arrived chilly and foggy. As Eren and Levi sat for breakfast with their host family, the world outside their windows was shrouded in a thick mist. Levi realized that this was ideal for traveling, as they could hide easier, but it also meant they could get lost if they missed a street sign.

After breakfast, Levi used the family's toilet while Eren went back to their room to pack. He had put away their things and straightened the bed, but Levi was still in the toilet. Eren waited, tapping his foot. He saw one of the children in the hall, bouncing as he waited to go next. Eren pouted, strode over to the door, and knocked. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but then he realized he was supposed to be mute.

Eren hoped that Levi knew Morse code. He tapped on the door in a pattern, spelling out the message: Are you OK?

.- .-. . / -.- - ..- / - -.-

Inside, sitting on a toilet and hunched over with tears in his eyes, Levi looked up. His face was pale, his brow furrowed, and he was green around the lips, desperately trying not to vomit from the pain.

Eren!

The Morse code message was in English, but Levi had to reply in French. Eren only knew a little French, so Levi thought of a way to reply that he might understand.

"Ça va, je termine bientôt!" I'm fine, I'll be done soon.

He wiped himself and saw blood.

"Putain," he whispered.

He cleaned up as best as he could, but he saw that the toilet bowl was bloodied. What they had been eating was torture on his gut. He had medicine to soften his stool, but sometimes it was not enough.

Levi flushed the toilet, made sure there were no traces of blood, and washed his hands and face. He looked in the mirror and saw just how pale he was. Eren would definitely notice something was wrong.

Still, he had to leave. As soon as he opened the door, the little boy who had been waiting rushed in.

"Je savais pas que c'était un gamin qui devait y aller." I didn't know it was a kid who had to go.

Eren shook his head in exasperation, but then he saw Levi's sallow skin. He jolted in worry, but he could not speak around this family. He thought about quickly whispering in Levi's ear, but that was risky. Instead, he did his best with actions. He pointed at Levi, then raised his thumb with a concerned look.

Levi shrugged it off. "Je vais bien, allons-y." I'm fine, let's go.

Before Eren could be tempted to say more, Levi turned and walked away. Eren decided he could question Levi on the road, although he already knew this man was too proud and stubborn to admit he was not doing well.

After packing up and many thanks to the family, they left the farmhouse and continued. Sure enough, when Eren asked Levi if he was okay, the Jew stubbornly brushed it off.

"I took a long shit, that's all."

The shimmer of ice pellets sparkled faintly on the frost-hardened ground, remnants of the previous night. Eren and Levi trudged across the glistening roads, their breaths misting in the freezing air. Levi was glad for the thick fog, since the barren farmlands surrounding them offered little shelter, neither from sight nor from the biting wind and the persistent drizzle that soaked through their worn clothes.

It was the last day of November, yet it already felt as icy as mid-January. Every step felt heavier under the weight of exhaustion and cold, yet they pushed on with grim determination.

They left the endless, frosted farmland as they reached the edges of the Ardennes. Heavily-forested hills loomed ahead, offering both concealment and an ominous promise of harsher weather. The higher they climbed in elevation, the sharper the chill bit at them. The fog that had shielded them from unwanted eyes now clung to them like ice, slowly seeping into their bones.

Eren hugged himself tightly, shivering with every step. Beside him, Levi cupped his hands around his face, breathing warmth onto his nose in a futile attempt to stave off the numbness. They were not dressed for weather like this, and Levi began to worry what they could do if a blizzard hit.

As they pressed further, the distant rumble of engines began to punctuate the silence. A line of American military trucks approached them, their outlines hazy in the fog. Eren and Levi shifted to the side of the road and kept their heads low. With their weathered hats and rough clothes, they looked like two simple farmers out walking through the Belgian countryside.

One truck slowed, and an officer called out. "Hey! Where are you two heading?"

Levi's quick apology in French was enough for the officer to wave them off as harmless locals.

after the last truck had passed, Eren murmured, "I wonder if something is going on."

"We can ask around in the next town." Levi pulled out the map. "We should be coming up to Libramont."

Eren remembered the city from looking at the map the previous night. It had a train depot, which explained all the Americans. The soldiers would be traveling by rail from port towns to the front lines. These officers might be going ahead of the rest, or off to a meeting further south in Neufchâteau or Arlon.

Eren grimaced as he tried to scratch beneath his cast. "Do you think we could rest early? I'm cold, and the rain is not good for this cast. Besides, we're not in a rush anymore."

"We are! We're in a rush against Hitler changing his mind and suddenly going on the offense."

Levi pressed on. Rather than stop and discuss this, they should get to a town first and see about warming up.

Eren tried to follow, but the exhaustion was starting to show on his face, although it had only been a few hours. Levi glanced over at him, starting to seriously worry for Eren's health. His pallid face still looked ill since that night in the snow, and his nonstop chattering teeth worried him. Still, he knew they were not safe yet.

Eren flinched in pain and coldness, and his breathing turned ragging and uneven. Finally, he cried out, "Levi, I need a break. My toes are going numb, I'm ... I'm feeling dizzy. I can barely focus on the road."

Levi softened at Eren's obvious struggle. While he felt a paranoid need to move on, their health was just as important. "All right. We traveled much further than I first anticipated. We can stop in Libramont for the night and get a hotel room. We both need to warm up, I need some pills before my shit rips me in half, and I seriously need to soak in a real bathtub."

Eren quickly asked, "Are you all right?"

Levi hesitated, unwilling to reveal the truth. "Just a little constipation," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I need some prunes..."

"Truthfully!" Eren shouted, grabbing Levi's arm a little too hard, his eyes dark with seriousness. "If I don't know what's wrong, I can't help you."

While it was sweet to see Eren looking concerned, Levi did not want to worry him. "I'm still healing. Sometimes, taking a shit hurts a little. Once we warm up, I'll find a pharmacy, get some medicine, and then I'll be fine."

"Levi..." Eren began, knowing he must be downplaying it.

"We'll rest for a night, okay?" he cut in. Levi forced up a smile, hoping to appease Eren so he would not keep asking. "A real hotel this time. We could both use a night without half a dozen brats racing around asking too many questions."

Eren held back his worries for now. They continued down the road, their boots crunching against gravel and frosted mud, until finally the faint outline of Libramont appeared ahead, a promise of warmth and temporary reprieve from the harshness.

* * *

The streets of Libramont buzzed with life. Two-story brick buildings stood shoulder to shoulder, their facades promoting shops, cafés, and hotels. The occasional church spire pierced the overcast sky, while smoke curled from chimneys, mingling with the fog that lingered over the busy city.

Automobiles jostled beside horse-drawn carriages on the cobblestone streets, their tires and hooves crunching against the frost. The rhythmic hiss of trains at the nearby depot was occasionally punctuated by the blast of a horn. Yet what stood out most to Eren was...

Soldiers.

Everywhere!

All around him, there were men in olive-green uniforms bearing the stars and stripes. Some leaned casually against vehicles, sharing cigarettes. Others strode with purpose, their boots echoing on the cobblestones.

As they walked along the road, Eren kept his head down, his heart thudding in his chest. Each glance at the American soldiers sent a jolt through him—a mix of instinctive fear, simmering anger, and a deep, gnawing conflict. These men had been his enemies, an evil he had been instructed to hate, trained to fight against, soldiers whom he had killed without any mercy, and who had slaughtered his platoon, not just once, but twice, in Anzio and in Maizières-lès-Metz.

He felt the urge to glare, to challenge, to hate!

But were they enemies anymore?

He had turned his back on that life. He had left the Heer, betrayed his countrymen, fell in love with a Jew, and abandoned his platoon to chase after him. Levi's presence was a grounding force for Eren, a reminder of why they were here and what truly mattered.

This was not about Germany anymore. This wasn't even about the war. It was about Levi, about survival, and escaping the horrors that had consumed Europe. He had made his choice when he fled Metz, and he could not afford to waver now.

Beside him, Levi walked with a quiet confidence, his face calm, his eyes darting subtly, taking in every detail. The blend of vehicles, the chatter in French, Dutch, and English, the movement of soldiers to and from the train depot—all of it painted a picture of a town caught between war and liberation.

As they passed a group of soldiers, Eren caught snippets of their conversation. One man's voice stood out, jovial and loud: "Heading south to Metz tomorrow. You hear about the Krauts running tail down there?"

Another soldier laughed. "Yeah, you're gonna miss all the fun and glory. As for me, we'll be in Antwerp by Christmas."

Further down the street, a small group of soldiers began to sing a marching tune. The lyrics reached Eren's ears, sharp and grating:

"We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line, if the Siegfried Line's still there..."

"What's a Siegfried Line?" Eren whispered to Levi.

"What you call the Westwall."

He heard the names of other cities: Trier, Konz, Merzig, Saarbrücken, Stuttgart.

German cities! He guessed these were targets.

Eren gulped. These men were not just liberating Belgium and France. They were preparing to invade Germany. His Germany!

The idea twisted in his stomach. His mind flashed with memories of his comrades, of training grounds and marching drills, of singing songs and taking oaths to defend Germany, of bombs and blood and flames.

He slammed down those thoughts before they overwhelmed him. He walked right past these soldiers without even raising his head to look them in the eye.

He wasn't a soldier anymore.

Yet much like this town, Eren felt like he was caught between war and liberation, not really free from the hate, not yet safe enough to enjoy peace.

They passed a group of soldiers smoking cigarettes, and the men took notice of the two travelers.

"Hey fellas! Look at the shrimp. They sure are tiny here in Belgium."

Eren held back a sneer. "They're insulting you," he hissed to Levi.

Levi whispered, "Don't let them know you speak English."

"I can speak with the same accent as them."

"That could be even worse."

They tried a hotel, but it was full. Levi entered another only to find that the staff mostly spoke Dutch and had to fetch someone who spoke French, only to find out they also had no vacancy. With so many soldiers in town, the officers were booking up rooms. Finally, he came up to another hotel, bigger and slightly nicer than the others. Warm light spilled out from the windows, promising shelter and a brief reprieve from the chill. He normally would not aim for something expensive, but at this point Levi figured any hotel was better than sleeping in the cold again.

They pushed through the door into a spacious lobby, where savory smells wafted out from an attached restaurant and the lingering scent of cigarettes made Levi sneer, while Eren inhaled with a smile of relaxation.

A man glanced up from behind a desk, his expression inviting while also being a bit indifferent. Levi stepped forward, asked the man if he spoke French, and was relieved to find that he did fluently. He then asked if they had vacancy, and it turned out they did, although not many rooms were left. Levi had hoped it would have two beds, but the man apologized. All they had left were rooms with a single bed, but he said one of them at least was large enough for two people.

Eren lingered near the doorway, his shoulders tense as he watched the soldiers outside along the bustling street, still simmering with the knowledge that those men were heading to the front lines. In a day or two, their rifles would be shooting at German soldiers.

"Protect Levi," he whispered to himself, a mantra to drown out the noise in his head. "All that matters. Protect Levi."

"Eren," Levi said, yanking him from his thoughts. "Allons dans la chambre d'hôtel."

Eren was not sure what he just said, but he realized that speaking English would be suspicious, especially if he accidentally spoke with a German accent. Eren played the part of a mute once more and silently picked up their bags. He followed Levi up some stairs to a hallway with many doors. They found the room number, went in, and Eren immediately dropped the bags. He collapsed face-first onto the bed.

"Scheiße! I hurt everywhere. I need a rest."

"Me too. I went ahead and booked the room for two nights." Levi joined Eren on the bed, curling up to him. "I could use a full day just lying warm in bed."

Eren rolled over to smile at Levi. "And another day to eat hot food until my stomach bursts."

Levi's fingers began to play through Eren's long hair, and those green-blue eyes fluttered closed. "A bath and hot meal would be nice. This hotel has a restaurant, but I also saw a few cafés and pastry shops on our way here. Someone ought to have coffee. Maybe even some good tea with scones."

Eren smiled, his eyes closed as he thought of rich, savory dishes. "Würstchen, Schinken, Schweinebraten."

"If you order in German, they'll question you."

Eren sighed sleepily. "I need to learn English words for food."

"You need to learn French."

"I tried. It's hard."

Levi's fingers combed through the brown hair and around his ear, bringing a smile up on Eren's sleepy face. The bed was soft beneath them, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension in Levi's shoulders began to ease.

With his eyes closed, shutting out the world, this all felt familiar to Eren. The soft touches, the scent of Levi, everything. Yesterday's sensual moment in the forest returned to him, and a feeling of warmth seeped into Eren's body, spreading from his chest and chasing away the cold that had clung to him for days.

Levi's hands touched him softly, as if trying to piece Eren back together. He caressed down his cheek and gently stroked along Eren's chest, feeling it rise and fall.

Eren savored the feeling of human touch. After so long living alone, hidden in a wine cellar, barely seeing other life besides a few rats, simply having this connection was healing. Levi's scent, his touch, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all achingly familiar as it wrapped around Eren like a cocoon.

He felt tender fingers, and it was the same touch.

He felt gentle lips on his, and it was the same softness.

He heard Levi's soft sigh, and even the smell of his breath was the same.

If he could go back to those days in Carly's luxurious room...

If he could banish the phantoms of nightmares...

If he could crush all the pain, all the fear, all the hatred that clawed at the edges of his mind...

BANG!

The sound of a door slamming down the hall tore through the stillness. Eren's body jerked violently, and he pulled away with a sharp, choked whimper. His chest heaved, and his eyes darted wildly around the room as flashes of memories slammed into him.

Levi froze for a moment, also affected by the sound and the memories. However, he had more experience in how to work through the past and return to the moment. He held Eren's hand. That helped him.

They were here, now, together.

His voice was low and steady. "It's a hotel." His thumb rubbed against Eren's trembling fingers. "Doors will shut. That's all it is."

Eren's breathing was shallow, ragged, and his fingers clawed at the blanket beneath him. His mind refused to stay in the present, dragging him back to Metz, dark rooms, shouted slurs, the searing pain of fists and boots, the shrieks from Levi echoing from far away, the sound of his arm snapping as he tried to reach through prison bars, and the ever-present burning of the bullet wound to his shoulder. He grabbed it now, numbed, the nerve severed, and yet somehow still burning, always burning.

Levi moved closer, his hand firm yet soothing as it rested on Eren's chest. "Hey," he murmured, his tone a quiet anchor. "Look at me. Eren, look at me."

Slowly, Eren's wide, unfocused eyes shifted to Levi. The fear in them was raw, a pain so deep it made Levi's chest tighten. "Levi..." Eren's voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

"I'm here," Levi said, his hand cupping Eren's face now, forcing him to stay grounded. "You're here with me. No one's coming. You're safe."

Eren's hands still shook, his body tense as if waiting for the next blow to fall. "It's never safe," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Not for us. Not anywhere."

Levi's expression softened, his own heart breaking at the vulnerability in Eren's voice. He pulled Eren into a firm embrace. "I know it's not fair. It's cruel. But you're here, Eren. You survived. We both did. They don't get to take this from us—not you, not me, not us."

Eren's hands gripped Levi's shirt tightly, his face pressed against Levi's chest as his breathing gradually slowed. "I hate it," he seethed, his voice muffled. "I hate that I'm so scared, that even this—" He gulped back tears. "I hate that it feels like we have to run away from being us."

Levi did not reply right away, his chin resting on Eren's head as he held him close. He had only been dealing with hatred against gay men for a few months, after all. Eren had been living with it his entire life!

"You're not running alone anymore," Levi finally said. "I'm here. I'll be here no matter what."

Eren pulled back slightly, his eyes red. "You don't have to. You could go back, marry a wife, be happy. You shouldn't have to suffer because of me." He gulped and turned away. "And you shouldn't have to protect me."

Levi gave him a small, wry smile. "Idiot takhshet," he said, though there was no malice in his tone. "You think I do this because I have to? I'm here because I want to be, because you're worth it."

Rather than reassuring, the words hit Eren's heart like arrows.

He hated how hateful the world was!

Just for falling for a man, people wanted him dead, or imprisoned, or tortured.

If only he could crush all the evil in this world...

Fuck them all!

Suddenly, Eren pulled away and leaped out of bed. He removed his boots, pulled off socks that had nearly worn down to nothing, and stripped out of his clothes. Levi was stunned and felt his heart race as he watched Eren strip. What was he planning?

Finally, Eren was fully nude. He stood there in the middle of the room, his face turned away, so Levi could not see what sort of expression he was making.

If Levi had, he would have seen a man murdering his own inner demons so he would not do anything too dangerous with the man he loved.

Finally, Levi whispered, "What are you doing?"

Eren jolted, almost completely forgetting that Levi was there. He had to come up with an excuse. After all, saying 'If I'm naked then I will be self-conscious enough not to act foolish or dangerous' sounded... well, foolish and dangerous.

"I need to rest," he blurted out, "but my clothes are dirty and stink. I don't want the bed to smell."

"Good point."

Levi groaned with muscle stiffness as he forced himself up. Then he also pulled off his shirt.

Eren turned his head to watch Levi and saw his bare back covered with all those whip scars. A thought screamed in his mind.

He's too far away! I want him to be closer!

Levi bent over to undo his shoes. "Since we're staying a couple of days, we can go to a lavoir, clean our clothes..." He pulled off what was left of his socks and sneered at the holes and dried blood from blisters. "Buy socks." He tossed them aside with disgust.

Suddenly, arms squeezed around him, one in a cast, and Levi jolted. He definitely had not expected this! Eren's mouth was immediately on his neck, kissing a line down to his shoulder. Levi shivered at the gentle breath tickling his skin.

"Eren," he hissed.

"When I see your back I'm okay, but when I see your face... everything hurts." He rested his head on Levi's shoulder. "I'm so sorry I'm like this."

Levi closed his eyes. Poor takhshet! "I understand. It'll take a while. Whatever makes you comfortable."

"It's not fair."

"Of course it is. I couldn't have you touch me for the longest time, but I liked to look at you enjoying my touches. Now you can touch me, you just can't look at me. It balances out."

Levi grabbed Eren's arms and pulled them around him even tighter. Eren let out a sigh, holding him preciously. Levi rubbed his hands up Eren's arms and to his naked shoulders.

"If that means you can't look at my face..." Levi smirked deviously. "...perhaps I should blindfold you."

"You've said that word before. Blind fold?"

Levi licked his lips. "Go back to the bed, lie down, and tell me when your eyes are closed."

Eren felt his heart race in a thrill of excitement he had not experienced in what felt like half a lifetime. He walked over to the bed, collapsed onto the mattress nude, and obediently shut his eyes.

"They're closed."

Levi turned around, took his handkerchief, and tied it around Eren's eyes. "That is a blindfold."

"Oh! Augenbinde, of course. I should have figured that out."

"Now, keep your eyes closed."

Eren did, and suddenly he felt lips on his mouth. He gasped in shock, but instantly melted into the kiss. Levi's kisses were somehow different now. He tried to figure it out. More aggressive? Yes, but what else?

It dawned on him. They were hungry.

He heard the sounds of a belt coming apart, fabric shifting, and then a weight on the bed as Levi crawled on top of him. Eren reached forward and felt bare skin as Levi let their nude bodies rub together. The hunger in that kiss infected Eren, and he realized...

He was starving as well.

Levi heard Eren make a soft, sensual grunt as his body surged forward, arching up to meet his.

"Levi," Eren moaned in a breathy whisper.

Yes! These were the kisses Levi had missed. "If you can't look at me, then feel me. Listen to me. Everything else, you can do. I will give you anything you want."

Anything? Did Levi really mean that? Like this, the hunger from before crashed back onto Eren. He would have let Levi fuck him roughly if he wanted to!

Their lips did not stop. Levi kissed him over and over, growing more wild. Their naked bodies surged up against each other, rutting together with aching desire. Eren began to breathe harder, trying to hold back moans as Levi's cock stroked over his, riling him up.

Eren saw a stream of light and opened his eyes in curiosity. The handkerchief had slipped, and now he could see the afternoon-lit room. At first, he saw only Levi's black hair as he leaned down to lick Eren's nipples. Then he raised up, and Eren saw his face.

The scar! The eye patch!

The screams!

Eren cringed and lost all air in his lungs. He began to scramble away, shivering with terror.

"No! Nein, aufhören, nein, nicht!" No, stop, no, don't!

Levi sat up, worried that Eren had completely fallen into a panic, and worse, it was bad enough to make him scream in German. Especially now that they were in the middle of a busy city, this was dangerous.

"Eren, you have to be quiet."

"Nein!" he cried.

"Eren!" Levi shouted over him.

Eren's face flinched as he fought through a labyrinth of nightmares. He felt Levi's hand on him, guiding him, his voice calling out to him, but the pain in his heart deafened him completely. All he heard were screams.

"Eren! Eren, stop!"

"I'm sorry," Eren sobbed, falling over and looking deeply guilty. "I'm sorry. Even when we are like this ... I'm so sorry!"

"No, I'm..." Levi gulped hard, trying to cool the inferno of passion inside him. "Maybe we can try that at night. It'll be dark, so you won't be able to see me even if you open your eyes."

Eren gnashed his teeth in shame. He yanked away, leaped up from the bed, threw the blindfold to the floor, and hugged himself to stop the shaking. "I shouldn't be this way. It's not fair to you."

"Eren..." Levi struggled, knowing he had acted like this so many times in the past. He had said it balanced things out, but it was still frustrating and heartbreaking. "If you can't look at me, I understand. I can't look in a mirror without hating myself. It's something we'll both get used to. It's okay, really," he said, hoping to encourage him.

Eren's lips still trembled as tears fell.

Levi sat up and faced the opposite wall. "Besides, I'm filthy. You shouldn't put your lips on me until I'm clean. This room has a private bathtub. We can get a hot bath." Levi walked toward a door that led to the bathroom. "We'll wash, then go eat. Two nights!" Levi stretched his arms and glanced back, only to see Eren close his eyes and turn away from his gaze. "Hopefully, it's enough time for both of us to heal."

They took turns getting a bath. Eren realized his stubble was coming in again. It had been four days since his last trip to a barber, and they did not have the money to spare on such a luxury. Perhaps they could find a shop selling razors in town.

They first went to the restaurant attached to the hotel. Levi ordered them a hot, hearty meal and made sure to order coffee for both of them. He hoped that the coffee would help with his constipation.

Levi did all the talking, but it had to be purely in French while Eren sat there and pretended to understand. Eren saw this as payback for when he had dined with Levi in Metz. Back then, Levi was not allowed to speak lest someone find out he was male. Now, Eren could not speak lest his accent slip and someone realize that he was German.

Simply sitting together was enough. Besides, at least he was not forced to wear a dress!

After filling their bellies, they decided to head out and get better clothes. With the weather getting colder, they bought thick sweaters and better trousers. Levi also bought a few pairs of socks. Eren found a shaving kit, and although it cost a lot, when Levi saw it he immediately grabbed it to add the kit to their cart. He truly did not like all that stubble on Eren's face.

They took their purchases back to the hotel and changed into the fresh clothes. Here, they could finally talk freely.

Levi blurted out, "We need to see if we can get some work around town."

"Work?" Eren asked, stunned by the sudden declaration. "Like a job?"

"Exactly. We'll be here for two days, and any money we can make will help toward our travel."

"How can I get a job? I can't use one arm, and I don't know the language."

"There are plenty of jobs that don't require talking. Come on!"

They went downstairs and to the front desk where the same man was sitting there. As they approached, Levi saw him quickly hide away a magazine of women in erotic, nude poses.

Levi said in French, "We want to speak to the hotel owner."

"That'd be me," the man said with a lazy drawl. "Dennis Aiblinger. What's the problem?"

Levi arched an eyebrow. The man looked slovenly, his light brown hair was messy, his face shadowed with stubble like he forgot to shave for a couple of days, and then there was that porn magazine he had just hidden. He was hardly the picture of a man who ran a thriving business.

Levi pushed that aside. "We'll be in town for a few days. We're looking for jobs."

"Jobs, huh?" he asked, eying the tall man in a cast and the tiny man in an eye patch. "You did pay up front, right?"

"For two nights," Levi confirmed. "While we're in town, we could do some work."

"Vagabonds," he muttered under his breath.

Offended, Levi sharply replied. "I'm sure you've seen your fair share during the war."

"Oh yes. Most are simply displaced, heading to the big cities with plenty of jobs. Others... well, there's a reason I carry a gun on me now. Don't get any smart ideas or you might end up in a soup."

Levi glared, and Dennis laughed.

"I'm joking, my friend. My chef would bury me in salt if I did that. I've had temporary workers before, travelers who needed a little spare money to make it to the next town. I can always use an extra hand around here. I lost most of my workers when the Germans first marched into Belgium and took away half my staff." He scoffed and grumbled, "Recruiting my ass! More like holding a gun to the head of a teenager and ordering him to put on a uniform or watch his family be murdered. Anyway! Come, we'll find jobs for you two."

Dennis brought them back into the kitchen.

"You, the mute one. You can work back here. We get a lot of dirty dishes."

"Washing dishes?" Levi asked in surprise. "He has a broken arm."

"A slow worker with one arm is better than no worker at all. If he's deaf and mute like you say..."

"Mostly deaf. He hears a little."

"There aren't many jobs for someone like that. Sorry, but dishwasher is the best I can do."

Levi looked to Eren, who seemed to understand what was being asked of him. He nodded in agreement. Back here, he could continue to pretend to be mute, as there was not much to the work besides scrubbing pots, which he could do with his good arm.

"And how about you, my friend?" Dennis asked Levi.

"I could work as a maid."

This time, Dennis looked stunned. "You want to be... a maid?" He eyed Levi up and down. "Is this something to excite you? This isn't that sort of establishment."

"No," snapped Levi. "I was a broom maker before the war. I'm good at sweeping and dusting. I can clean rooms."

Dennis scratched out his frumpy hair. "Well, I've got a few girls for that, but we're getting a train-load of American officers coming tomorrow. Some of these are real white-glove types. I could use someone who doesn't simply knock the dust to the floor." He shouted out loudly, "Like Hitch!"

A maid swung around the doorway. "Go choke on castor oil, you lazy jerk," the lady shouted back before vanishing into the other room again.

Dennis chuckled, clearly amused by her attitude. He looked back at the two men. "I've never heard of a male maid before, but if you claim you have skill, then show me what you can do, Monsieur Fabricant de Balais."

Levi was led into a guest room that reeked of stale air and old sweat. The bed was left in chaos, while cigarette ash and crumbs dotted the floor. The head maid, Hitch, gave him a bandanna, a feather duster, gloves too large for his slender hands, a broom, a bucket of water, and a threadbare rag.

Dennis lounged near the doorway with a glass of red wine as he watched Levi silently survey the disaster zone. With an air of calm efficiency, Levi tied the bandanna over his face, pulled on the oversize gloves, and grabbed the duster with the precision of a soldier preparing for battle.

Starting from the ceiling, Levi worked in methodical sweeps, dislodging cobwebs and dusting the light fixtures with quick, nimble movements. The feather duster moved like an extension of his arm, and as he shifted down to the furniture, his speed only increased. Flat surfaces gleamed as he moved with grace, his motions fluid and deliberate.

When the dust settled, Levi picked up the broom and swept the floor with rhythmic strokes, the swishing sound filling the air as he worked. It was like watching a dance—Levi and the broom in perfect sync, each movement purposeful and efficient. With the floor cleared of debris, he dipped the rag into the bucket of water and began polishing the windows. The glass sparkled, reflecting in the glow of a light bulb.

Hitch returned with fresh linens, and she paused at the sight of Levi flipping out the sheets and blankets with military precision. He tucked the edges so tightly that the bed looked like it belonged in a barracks, the corners crisp and flawless. He went over the entire room once more with his own glove, inspecting each surface, but there was nothing to redo. The entire room would have passed a military inspection.

Dennis and Hitch exchanged glances. Hitch shrugged dramatically, as if to say, Well, what are you going to do?

"You're hired," Dennis declared, tipping his glass toward Levi. "I've got five more rooms that need cleaning. When you're done, the second-floor hallway could use a good mopping."

Levi pulled down the bandanna, his face set in a stern glare. "Payment?"

"I'll give you back your money for renting a room for two nights, plus..." Dennis smirked, gesturing toward Hitch. "...half of whatever I'm paying her."

Hitch rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh. "You don't even know what you pay me, considering I handle the finances around here, you loafer."

Levi's glare darkened. "My companion makes a full day's wage."

Dennis scoffed, shaking his head. "Not happening. You get a free room, and you make half wages in return. Take it or leave it."

Levi hesitated, his jaw tight. But the promise of a rent-free room, especially with the uncertain weather ahead, made the decision for him. He pulled off his glove and extended his hand. "Deal."

They shook hands, and as Levi returned to work, a small but tangible sense of relief settled over him. At least for now, they had some security—a place to sleep and money for the road ahead.

* * *

While Levi tackled the rooms with meticulous focus, Eren worked in the kitchen, confronting an intimidating pile of dishes neglected by a short-staffed crew. For Levi, cleaning offered him something grounding, even freeing. There was satisfaction in scrubbing away filth, in seeing chaos transformed into order. For Eren, the struggle of trying to wash dishes while also not getting his cast wet was a struggle, especially when some of the pans weighed so much.

The two met up in the hotel's restaurant for a quick dinner. They ate in silence, but at least to Levi, the sight of Eren after a day of hard work was comforting.

Why did this feel so... domestic?

After the meal, Eren returned to the kitchen with an exhausted sigh while Levi happily got started on the mopping. After he finished that, Levi returned to the restaurant and offered to clean tables, for which the overworked restaurant staff was deeply grateful.

As the night wound down and the last patrons left to go to bed, Levi peeked into the kitchen. Eren was still by a massive sink, sleeves rolled up, hard at work scrubbing the dishes from dinner. Levi considered joining him, but a sudden cramp and burning sensation in his gut forced him to stop short.

The pain was sharp and relentless as he raced back upstairs to their room and to the toilet. He dropped his pants and collapsed onto it, clutching his abdomen with a face drawn up in agony.

Seconds later, a scream of pain echoed through the hotel. Hitch happened to be walking down the hall and heard. She went up to the room and knocked on the door.

"Is everything all right?" she asked through the door, but heard nothing. She tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. She slowly peeked her head in. "Hello? Are you okay in here?"

On the toilet, Levi was bent in half, his whole body trembled as waves of pain wracked him. He sneered and bellowed, "Get the hell out of my room."

That was not enough to scare away a woman like Hitch. She stepped in more and saw the door to the toilet left slightly ajar, with struggling breathing coming from beyond it. "I heard a scream. Should I get a doctor?"

Levi was ready to tell her no, but as he wiped himself and saw nothing but thick clots of blood, he realized he could put this off no longer.

He exhaled shakily, his voice quieter this time. "Will a doctor come this late?"

Hitch stepped closer to the door. "He will come anytime. Do you need him?"

Levi's head dropped, the weight of his pride crushed under the inevitability of his need. "...Yes."

"I'll call him now. Wait here."

As she hurried off, Levi leaned back, closing his eyes against the pain and the cold sweat breaking out across his skin. He hated being this vulnerable, but there was no denying it anymore. Something had to be done.

* * *

The clang of dishes echoed in the quiet hotel kitchen as Eren dried his reddened hands on a rag, the dampness from the soapy water clinging to his fingers. His first day had been exhausting, but he had wanted to at least catch up with the piles of dishes from days past. As he had washed, his mind was elsewhere, replaying snippets of their escape, their journey so far, and the endless questions about their next steps.

Now, all he wanted to do was collapse into bed. His eyes drooped as he walked into the front of the hotel, but all was quiet. Even the restaurant had only a few patrons nursing drinks with glazed eyes. He saw Dennis, the hotel owner, and the head maid Hitch huddled by the concierge desk whispering to one another.

As Eren walked over to the stairs, Dennis stepped forward, his face a mix of concern and hesitation. "Excusez-moi! N'y allez pas encore." Excuse me! Don't go up there yet.

Hitch jogged up to Eren so he would know they were talking about him. "Votre ami ne se sentait pas bien, et le docteur est avec lui maintenant. Attendez ici, s'il vous plaît, jusqu'à ce qu'il ait fini." Your friend was not feeling well, and the doctor is with him now. Please, wait down here until he's done.

Eren looked back and forth at both of them in a panic. What were they saying? It sounded urgent, but he cringed as he realized his French was nowhere near good enough to understand any of that.

Dennis scoffed and grumbled, "Bon sang, vous n'entendez pas un mot de ce que nous disons, Monsieur le Sourd-Muet." Good Lord, you can't hear a word we're saying, Mr. Deaf-and-Mute. Dennis also walked up to Eren and spoke slowly. "Vous." He pointed at Eren. "N'y allez pas." He held up both hands to show he should not go forward. "Votre ami." He put his hand down around chest height. "Le petit."

"Levi," Hitch snapped. "Il s'appelle Levi. Je te jure, crétin, tu ne connais pas le nom de tes propres employés." His name is Levi. I swear, you moron, you don't know the names of your own employees.

"Oui, oui, Levi. Très malade." Dennis rubbed his stomach with a sour look on his face to show that Levi felt sick. "Très malade."

Between the slower speaking from Dennis and pantomime, Eren figured out enough, and a spike of fear shot through his chest. He turned and stormed up the stairs. Dennis flung his hands up in exasperation.

"Et le voilà parti! Je pourrais me plaindre qu'il n'a pas entendu un mot de ce que je viens de dire, sauf qu'il a visiblement compris ce que je voulais dire." Off he goes! I would complain that he didn't hear a word I just said, except he obviously understood what I meant.

Hitch watched Eren run upstairs. "C'est son ami. Bien sûr qu'il veut être à ses côtés." That's his friend. Of course he wants to be by his bedside.

Dennis smiled flirtatiously. "Et toi, tu viendrais à mon chevet si j'étais malade?" And you, would you run to my bedside if I was sick?

She scoffed and rolled her eyes in disgust. "Non. T'es trop bête. Je te laisserais crever. " No. You're to stupid. I'd let you die.

Dennis just laughed in amusement. "T'es vraiment glaciale, Hitch." You're really cold, Hitch!

Eren's boots pounded against the wooden steps as he raced to their room. By the time he reached the door, he was out of breath, his heart hammering in his chest. The door creaked open as the doctor, a man with graying hair and a leather bag, stepped out. He nodded politely to Eren and bid him goodnight, but otherwise did not linger, disappearing down the hallway.

Inside, Levi sat on the edge of the bed, pale and visibly drained. His gaze flicked up to Eren, and a faint smile played on his lips, as if to reassure him. It did not work.

"What happened?" Eren demanded, his voice sharp and cracking with worry.

Levi waved a hand dismissively. "It's nothing. Just a little checkup."

Eren's fists clenched, and even the one in a cast shivered with tension. "Don't lie to me!" He strode forward and grabbed Levi by the shoulder. His voice dropped, raw and trembling. "Tell me what's wrong. Now."

Levi's mouth opened, but he hesitated. For a moment, he was about to brush it off again, but Eren's desperation was too much for him. With a sigh, Levi looked down at his hands, where the nails that had been ripped out were still healing and the two missing fingers sometimes had phantom pains.

"The injuries I took in Metz," he began slowly, not wanting to think about it for long, "they never fully healed. My côlon... um, intestins? What is the English word?"

"You got it right. Colon or intestines. Dein dickdarm. I may not know English food words, but I learned all the medical ones."

Levi nodded slowly. Eren's father was a doctor, after all. "It's ... It's damaged. Badly. Even with all the surgeries..." He gulped and looked away, but he could not run away from this. Eren needed to know the truth. "I probably should have stayed in that hospital for another month, but the Allies were coming, the whole place was about to become a battlefield. I had to get out. The doctor who tended to me gave me what little medication he could spare. I was supposed to follow his strict advice: find better medication, buy some castor oil, follow a special diet. But..." He gestured vaguely. "We've been on the run. I couldn't exactly take care of myself when I was more focused on getting the hell away from the front lines. I thought I could ignore it until we got to the coast, where we could rest, be safe." Levi's lips pressed into a thin line. "I didn't want you to worry. I was trying to be strong."

"Strong?" Eren's voice broke, his eyes lined with unshed tears. He dropped to his knees before Levi, his face looking like he was in agony and his breath catching in his throat. "Levi, I'm the one who's supposed to be strong, to protect you. That's why I left the Wehrmacht. For you!"

Levi's stern expression softened, and a rare chuckle escaped him. He half-shrugged his shoulders. "I'm free now, Eren. This time, you're the one in danger. It's my turn to be the protector."

Eren shook his head, his emotions too tangled to express a single word. He pulled Levi into a tight embrace, crushing him as tears spilled over. Levi's hand rested on Eren's back, comforting him in return. After only a moment, Eren pulled back to wipe his eyes, and this time he really looked at Levi.

He had noticed he was paler, but he had been avoiding truly looking at Levi. Now, he truly saw how ghastly white he was, and how even the color in his lips was fading away like frosted rose petals. He reached forward, brushed his finger over those lips, and Levi's eye fluttered closed as his lips softly parted.

Slowly, Eren leaned in, their lips met, and the room's tension dissolved into a fragile, tender kiss.

Levi sighed, mad at himself for deceiving Eren. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Eren tried to shove down just how scared he felt. "Will it get better?" he asked, wavering on hopefulness.

"With time. I have some medication now, suppositories—I fucking hate those—and the doctor will check up on me in a few days, see if I need something stronger, or ... or if I need another surgery."

Eren lowered his head onto Levi's lap. Was he seriously that bad? And he never said anything? "You are so, so stubborn," he whispered angrily.

Levi stroked the long strands of his brown hair. "I know. I guess that means we'll need to extend our stay."

"We'll stay until you're healed," Eren decided, his voice steadier now.

"Eren," Levi sighed, "that could take months. We don't have that kind of time."

"We'll make time," Eren insisted.

"It's not up to us! It's up to Chancellors, Prime Ministers, Generals..." Levi cut off his words. "I just want to get to America."

"You will," Eren said firmly. "But you need to be healthy."

Levi's silence said he was once again going to be stubborn. Even staying a few extra days upset him. In his mind, he imagined the entire might of the German military lying in wait, ready to blitz over Western Europe, just as they had in 1940.

Still, they did not argue further. Eren rested his head on Levi's lap, and Levi calmly stroked his soft hair. After a minute, he felt the tension loosening in Eren's shoulders, but he also thought that the young man might be falling asleep.

Levi tapped the back of Eren's head. "We should wash up. You smell like dirty dishwater."

Eren grunted in protest but relented, rolling back as Levi slipped off the bed and headed to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, removed the eye patch, and splashed water on his face, his mind drifting to dark thoughts that he wished he could wash away.

As he dried his face with a towel, he stared at his reflection for a moment. He was thankful that he did not have to see his face too often, and he hardly blamed Eren for panicking at the sight of him. With the eye patch off, he saw the glass eye—a pale blue eye obviously meant for an Aryan—like the gaze of his enemy was always staring back at him. The scar running down his face was still bright pink and healing. His fingers softly touched that scar.

Not only that, but after losing so much blood, he looked like a walking corpse, pale and weary, with only the dark circles under his eyes as color.

How could Eren possibly love someone who looked like this?

He had to look away from the reflection. He considered buying a bottle of wine, something to numb his fraying nerves, yet as he stepped out of the bathroom, he found Eren fast asleep, sprawled on the bed, still fully dressed.

A fond smile tugged at Levi's lips. "Like a little boy," he muttered, shaking his head.

Kneeling by the bed, he carefully tugged off Eren's boots. The movement stirred Eren, who groggily groaned and sat up. Half asleep, he unbuttoned his shirt, dropped it carelessly to the floor, undid his belt, and shoved his trousers down. Before he could kick them off his ankles, Eren passed out again.

Levi chuckled quietly to himself. He must really be exhausted, having to work so hard in the kitchen after days of walking. He finished pulling Eren's trousers off, picked up the shirt, neatly folded them, and placed them on top of a chair in the corner. Then he pulled the blankets around Eren and tucked him into bed.

After turning off the light, he crawled into bed beside Eren and rested his head on the pillow. His fingers reached out to brush through the long, brown hair, yet the sight of Eren's face made Levi pause.

How could it be that this young man—still merely nineteen—looked older?

Maybe it was the loss of lingering baby fat, living on the edge of starvation for weeks. Maybe it was simply the physical, mental, and emotional torment sucking away his youth.

The past month had stolen something from Eren, something that would take a lifetime to recover, if they ever could.

His fingers lingered on Eren's cheek, tracing the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his face. Gradually, a wave of sleepiness crept over Levi, pulling him down like a sea monster. His hand slipped from Eren's face, coming to rest on the mattress between them.

"Dors bien, mon amour." Sleep well, my love.

In the quiet stillness of the night, with the whole world at war just outside those walls around them, Levi let himself drift off, clinging to the fragile hope that tomorrow might be kinder.

# # #

# #

#

Finally, we are in Libramont. Much of the next arc will take place here, to let's settle in.

Hôtel Duroy — While I didn't want to specifically name which hotel in Libramont Eren and Levi are in, Hôtel Duroy was my inspiration. In 1944, it had a café on the first floor, electric lighting, central heating, a parking garage, and you could even rent a car. Quite a swanky joint!

Eren and Levi knowing the same Morse Code — The International Morse Code was standardized in 1865, so both Levi and Eren would know it. Fun Bonus Fact: While it was Samuel Morse who first came up with the system of dots and dashes in 1844, it was expanded in 1848 into the Modern International Morse code, now with umlauts and other letters used in European languages. This was initially used in Germany for messages between Cuxhaven—the city where Eren was born in this story—and Hamburg, where Eren was raised by Captain Hannes after his mother was killed. I was excited to see Cuxhaven get mentioned in a story about radio history. (My husband is a HAM operator, and I grew up using CB radio on cross-country family trips. We both learned Morse Code.)

https://youtu.be/UgXyVL7KgAY

We're Going to Hang Out the Washing on the Siegfried Line — Written in 1939 by Irish composer Jimmy Kennedy, a Captain in the British Army, the song became vastly popular, sung by a variety of singers throughout the war. It uses the English name for the Westwall: Siegfried Line. If you'll remember, the Westwall/Siegfried Line was a defensive line protecting the western border of Germany, heavily defended with artillery guns, mines, pits, and anti-tank barriers. The Allies had to break through this line if they wanted to invade Germany.

[Chorus]

We're going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
Have you any dirty washing, mother dear?
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line.
'Cause the washing day is here.
Whether the weather may be wet or fine
We just rub along without a care.
We're gonna hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line
If the Siegfried Line's still there.

This song was so well-known that the Germans made a parody in 1940 after the Battle of France. It translates to this:

Yeah, my boy, you thought it would be so easy
At the great Laundry Day on the German Rhine.
Oh, and you really filled your trousers,
But you don't need to be sad.
We'll soon soap you up thoroughly
From above and below.
When the German Laundry Day is over,
Man, you won't need laundry any more.
Sing this little song along, whoever wants to sing it,
With the Second War Correspondent Company.
Until Laundry Day, yes, until Laundry Day
In the early hours of the morning.
My girl, pour another drink
And dance and drink the glasses dry.
For when the great Laundry Day is over
I'll return home, I'll return home across the sea.

Jimmy Kennedy wrote around 2000 songs, of which 50 became popular. Probably his most popular, sung by every elementary school kid in English-speaking countries: The Hokey Pokey. (Also known as Hokey Cokey in the UK and Hokey Tokey in New Zealand.) The title allegedly came from an ice cream vendor shouting out "Hokey Pokey penny a lump. Have a lick make you jump."

Dennis Aiblinger and Hitch Dreyse — Hey, it's Dennis and Hitch! Being a hotel owner in Belgium, Dennis speaks French and Dutch fluently. He knows a little German (the Germans had control of Libramont from 1940-1944) and he knows a few lines in English, although not even close to fluent in those last two. Hitch is the head maid and basically runs things while Dennis sits at the front desk reading newspapers and porn.

Minimum Wage — I looked up how much minimum wage was in francs during 1944, found precisely what I wanted, read a whole article about the different fields of work, skilled versus manual labor, rural versus urban wages, worked out precisely what were good wages for Levi to be offered, wrote out a whole scene of him and Dennis haggling over his wages... and 5 minutes after finishing the scene, I realized Libramont is in Belgium, not France.

Dammit...

I couldn't find a similar website about Belgian wages during the war, or even the difference between Belgian francs and French francs in 1944, and honestly, it wasn't worth all that effort. I copped out and merely said it was half of whatever Dennis paid Hitch. I also could not figure out how much hotel rooms in Belgium were in 1944, but in America they were around $3 a night, and minimum wage was 30 cents.

So free room plus half-wages is a damn good deal. Dennis is actually really fair to his employees, despite coming across as sloven, lazy, and how he loves to rile up Hitch.

#

MAP STUFF WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Above is a map of their travels from Saint-Avold to Libramont. I used this to help figure out how many miles they can walk per day, what towns they pass through, and what's the general environment they're in (farmland versus forests).

—

https://i.imgur.com/hppOB6X.jpeg

Side note: You have no idea how hard it was to create this map! If you use the link to open up the full size of the image, you will see what I mean, just how MASSIVE this is, and how detailed. I had to make a shrunken-down version just to work on Wattpad!

First, when using a walking route on Google Maps, it won't let you cut through fields and forests (which is of course logical; it's private property and you shouldn't cut through). So I had to do my best with hiking trails. Second, although Google Maps lets you add multiple destinations to a journey, you can only add 10. Just to get the right route from Saint-Avold to Kœnigsmacker, it took 10 added destinations, and then Kœnigsmacker to Libramont was 9 separate destinations. So in a sense, this is two maps.

Then, in order for Google to show the names of the more obscure destinations (like Scheckelscheier forest) you have to be zoomed in fairly close. I couldn't see the full map with the destinations, which I needed as I plotted out this journey. So, while zoomed in, I took screenshots of each area—square by square. In all, this involved 25 screenshots. I pasted them together, lining up the layers so they'd blend into one solid map.

Due to the limit in destinations, I had to create two maps, zoomed in to precisely the same depth (which is hard as heck, WTF Google Maps!) The map had to show from Saint-Avold to Kœnigsmacker, but be wide enough to the west so, once put together, we could see Libramont. Same with the second map from Kœnigsmacker to Libramont; I then had to take screenshots going east well into Germany so, when put together, we could see Saint-Avold. Now I sympathize with wartime surveyors who had to piece together snapshots from spy planes.

Yes, I did this mostly just for myself, so I could see visually what path was best, but I also really wanted to share with all of you. I know some of my readers are map nerds. Rejoice!

A few other places I wanted to include on this map because of their significance to WWII or to this story:

Saarbrücken - We can see this city to the southeast, just past Saint-Avold. This is Jean's hometown. He was this close to his mother but could not go visit her. Now he's a prisoner-of-war, living out the rest of the war in some American camp. (Either Arkansas, Oklahoma, or Nebraska.)

Peltre - This little town is south of Metz. That's where Eren and Levi took refuge in a church and left Louise, Carly, and the rest. A little south of that is Marly... the fact that Marley exists in the manga and Marly is so close to Metz is a coincidence that still tickles me!

Maiziéres-lés-Metz - North of Metz, we see where Eren fought on the front lines and got injured as well as traumatized.

Poix-Saint-Hubert - Located in the northwest corner of the map. While we haven't seen that place yet, it'll come up later.

Libramont - Finally, their destination! Look east and just a little north and you'll see another historic town.

Bastogne - Anyone familiar with the Ardennes Offensive (AKA the Battle of the Bulge) will shiver at seeing how close that city is to where Eren and Levi plan to stay. Unfamiliar with the significance of Bastogne? Go watch Band of Brothers, considered the best TV series in history for a reason. I can't recommend it enough!