Flickers of the Past - Victorian AU
An AU from 6 years ago came back to haunt me. I love the veterans and miss them together. Like this. In peace.
Summary: In a quiet moment of reflection, Mike and his comrades share a peaceful evening after the war, where Mike is slowly coming to terms with his recovery and the life he's rebuilding. The conversation turns to the mysterious woman who saved his life, with Mike admitting he’s wondered about her but never sought her out. As they discuss their futures, Mike realizes he's no longer just surviving—he's finally beginning to live, seeking peace and maybe even something more.
The Drawing Room, evening, early spring.
The rain had passed, leaving the windows fogged and the earth fresh with petrichor. Nanaba sat curled in one of the window seats, lace shawl draped over her shoulders, sipping from a steaming cup. Levi was sharpening a blade by the fireplace—not because he needed to, but because it kept his hands busy. Erwin stood near the sideboard with a crystal decanter, filling glasses with an elegance that suggested he had grown rather used to this aristocratic nonsense.
Mike entered quietly, shrugging off his overcoat and gloves. He moved with that same measured pace, but no longer with the rigid caution of injury. He looked… better. The kind of better that came not just from healing but from deliberate, stubborn effort.
“Don’t all get up at once,” he said dryly.
“Don’t tempt me,” Levi muttered without looking up.
Nanaba’s smile was slow. “Someone’s walking like a man who’s finally made peace with stairs.”
Mike raised a brow. “I don’t recall you carrying me.”
“No,” she said, “but I do recall the string of curses when you tried to wrestle the library ladder last autumn.”
Erwin chuckled. “I believe the ladder won that round.”
Mike took a seat near the fire, easing into it with a contented sigh. “I let it win. Out of pity.”
Levi smirked faintly, finally setting the blade down.
There was a lull, the kind that came with familiarity. Then Erwin passed Mike a glass, settling beside him.
“You’re looking well,” he said. “Stronger.”
“Mostly thanks to that batty old doctor Nanaba found.”
“She’s not batty,” Nanaba said. “Just enjoys unconventional methods.”
“She hit me with a spoon,” Mike replied.
Levi nodded approvingly. “Effective woman.”
They laughed softly, the fire crackling between them.
Then Erwin leaned back, studying Mike with that unsettling perceptiveness of his. “So. What now?”
Mike turned the glass in his hand. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve recovered. You’ve earned every title. You have an estate to your name, a staff that doesn’t quite know what to make of you, and more unsolicited marriage proposals than you’ve opened. What do you want to do with all of it?”
Mike stared into the amber liquid. “I’m not sure.”
“You used to talk about building something. A home. Not just walls and wood. A legacy.”
“I did.”
“And now?”
Mike glanced toward the window, where the rain had left streaks across the glass. “Now it feels like I’ve outlived the reason I wanted it.”
Nanaba’s voice was quiet. “Maybe the reason changed.”
He didn’t answer at first.
Levi rose, stretching. “You ever think she’s still out there?”
Mike looked up sharply.
“The girl,” Levi said, tone casual. “The one who saved your life.”
Mike didn’t respond, but his grip on the glass shifted slightly.
“She’d be what, mid-twenties now?” Nanaba mused. “Provided she made it.”
“I’ve wondered,” Mike admitted. “Sometimes I even think I catch a glimpse. In a crowd. In a dream.”
“You ever try to find her?” Erwin asked.
Mike gave a slight shake of his head. “I wouldn’t know where to start. She gave me a chance at life. Maybe that was all she meant to do.”
Levi was watching him now. Not with suspicion, but something close to knowing. “Maybe you were meant to give her a chance, too.”
Mike exhaled. “Maybe I already did.”
Nanaba sat up straighter. “So then you owe her nothing. Which means you’re free to want whatever you want.”
Mike didn’t answer right away. The silence settled around them like a soft blanket.
“I want peace,” he said finally. “Not the kind people write treaties for. The kind that lets you breathe without flinching.”
“And maybe someone to breathe next to,” Nanaba added gently.
Mike gave a quiet smile, more real than most. “Maybe.”
Erwin looked toward the fire. “It’s strange, isn’t it? The war took nearly everything. But the people who walked out of it… we might just be the ones who can build something better.”
“Assuming we don’t get assassinated first,” Levi offered.
“That’s why we keep you around,” Nanaba quipped.
Mike leaned his head back, eyes closed for a moment. He could still feel the ache in his shoulder if he moved wrong, and there were days when his knee reminded him of everything he’d been through. But for the first time in years, the future wasn’t a battlefield.
He wasn’t just surviving anymore.
He was living.
