Levi Ackerman headcanon #2 — (My) analysis on his disability
This is my second time writing about Levi and his character. I previously did so for his intimacy and sexuality; this time, I would like to give my honest opinion and headcanon on his disability. With the utmost respect for the topic as it should be handled, and the disclaimer that I don't have enough knowledge in that field.
A panel of the manga explicitly shows how a titan, during the final battle, bit onto his knee. It most likely crushed his bone and damaged his nerves all the way down. His leg, even after surgery (I could see him resorting to a more technologically advanced country and their skills in the medical field to do so), healing and physical therapy, remained stiff.
When I say "stiff", however, I do picture it not being able to bend anymore. If he sits down, he has to manually bend it. It surely hurts when it's humid, or it aches as time passes and if he sits down for a certain and/or prolonged period of time.
The usage of the wheelchair is mostly because limping the entire time is not the best thing to do, and it surely bothers him if that happens. I can see Levi using a cane whenever he wants to take a walk alone, not relying on anyone else but that wooden stick. And in a way, to feel like he's not burdening anyone, being carried around.
The acceptance of his disability surely wasn't easy. That's more than obvious, it would never be pleasant to anyone. For someone like Levi, who got the title of "humanity's strongest soldier", losing so much of his mobility made him think if it was worth it. Yet, remembering the sight of the ghosts of his fallen comrades made him get through tons of doubts and moments of self-consciousness. If one like Levi let loose and cried because of it, it's a very big deal. One of those deals that made him think that yes, he's disabled. He struggles with certain mundane tasks now, and he has to rely on other people to grab an item that's placed on a high shelf, because that particular day his leg hurts, for example. In the Bad Boy chapter, there's no wheelchair in sight; though it meant that he could've parked it somewhere (where, we don't know), we can say that if he was sitting there with Falco and Gabi, he could, again, limp his way there. It wouldn't surprise me if he was stubborn enough to be willing to help despite his injuries.
It's not a bad thing to imagine him as defeated; he lost his dear friends, his family (by blood and acquired one), and on top of that, he was left with one blind eye, two fingers ripped off from one hand and a leg that doesn't work anymore. Anyone would've reacted badly.
We also know that Levi always showed signs of being stubborn: he still engaged in a battle with fresh bandaged scars and injuries, or when he told Armin "You'll forget that I exist if I keep resting". Despite how weak he clearly was, clinging and pushing himself forward as he struggled to walk, it doesn't only show that pain doesn't stop him at all, but how stopping itself means that he's giving up on a state of vulnerability that he doesn't want to go back to; I do connect it to the time when in Bad Boy he was being beaten up by those men, before he "activated" his Ackerman genes. Or even when he had to endure the pain of Kenny leaving him, his mother dying, or his comrades falling. Levi is not going to let his own body win.
"If I let myself be weak and vulnerable, I would fail the little kid in me that fought for himself and survived despite the shit he went through. I'm not going to let him down and fail who kept me alive and made me the person I'm today. The person that people relied on. But I need to trust that kid and rely on him too," I bet he constantly repeats himself whenever he's struggling and gritting his teeth. When getting to the bathroom makes him sweat a little, or dressing himself up takes more than usual.
On the other hand, I think the relationship between Levi and the way he denies himself some sort of vulnerability is because he thinks that it doesn't bring him anywhere. It never helped him in the Underground; when in "No Regrets" he cried after Isabel and Furlan died, he most likely told himself, "What did I gain from this? Did it even help bring them back? It didn't. Suck it up."
With that, Levi suppressed his feelings and bottled them up. He allowed himself to tear up only when he saluted the fallen Scouts. But that wasn't vulnerability for him: it was pride. Proud of himself, that he kept a promise and showed himself that he wasn't the same little boy that was left in a dumpster of an underground city, more than twenty years prior. Even despite the reason he was forced to join the Scouts, and cleared his name within his own self. The son of a prostitute and his client, the nephew of a man that wasn't surely a saint.
As time passed, Levi accepted his disability and the fact that he had to adapt. You fall today, tomorrow, the day after tomorrow you understand that you need some backup. Gabi and Falco, and the ones who kept in touch with him (I would say Onyankopon the most, since at the end of the manga he shows up with the other three), surely were with him when he got back to his new house and had to face the reality of things. He would grumble and push the others away at first, and he never wanted to be helped. That meant having people care for him; last time it happened, those people left or died in front of his eyes. Too many traumas made him independent and reckless, as well as stubborn.
But even Levi has his limits. Gabi and Falco are compassionate and understand that they have to respect the fact that he needs time to fully accept his disability and people's aid. Once again, when someone has been left alone for years or discarded as if they were an old and broken shoe, they toughen up. Not because they want it, and I do believe that Levi tried a lot of times to heal his inner child and only succeeded with those kids at the refugee camp, while handing them lollipops. Giving them candies meant that he was helping them grasp onto that childhood they had been denied—and that sounds awfully familiar. Another side of him, however, has been so used to doing everything alone and being his own and sole emotional support that asking for help is not even contemplated.
Day by day, week by week, and year after year, he understood that grieving his lost mobility was alright. Letting people help him was alright. Discovering his limits, rediscovering his body and making everything coexist was the key. That the little Levi in him would be proud of adult Levi for not pulling a card at the base of the house of cards he built and instead, recreating it. That was when child!Levi began to feel at ease, and veteran!Levi could rest.