Chapter Text
If you asked him, Levi wouldn't say he came from a broken home.
After all, "broken" implied that there had been something whole to start with. That there was something there to put back together again.
His mother wasn't a bad person; she wasn't. But you don't really have a lot of options when you're seventeen and knocked up by your loser, 20-something stoner boyfriend and your parents kick you out of the house because you refuse to get "it" "taken care of". You have even fewer options when said loser boyfriend pulls a disappearing act instead of facing the responsibilities of being a father.
So, you shack up with another loser man-child, get a job at a shitty fast-food restaurant because that's the only place that will hire you without a high school diploma, and work literally until the day you go into labor while he lays his lazy ass on the couch all afternoon, getting stoned and collecting government assistance.
Within two years, he was gone. The couch was still there, though.
But it never stayed empty for very long.
Whether it was out of loneliness or a sincere belief that she couldn't manage on her own (even though that was essentially what she was doing 90% of the time), Levi's mom never went for very long without a boyfriend. It didn't seem to matter if they were kind, or controlling, or abusive, or apathetic, as long as they were there. Other kids at school grew up with a Mom and a Dad. Levi had a Mom and an ever-changing parade of Steve or Tom or Frank (later recategorized in his mind to Asshole or Shithead or Fuckface).
Levi liked it best when it was just him and his mom. She'd let him sleep in her bed (their tiny apartment only had one bedroom), and, when she wasn't at work, he'd follow her around the house, helping her clean and watching her cook. She seemed happier then, standing at the sink and humming as sunlight pooled around her long black hair.
But, eventually, a new guy would move in and Levi would go back to sleeping on the pull-out couch. Gradually, his mom would smile less and stop singing. Sometimes, she'd cry. Sometimes, she'd have bruises. Levi pretended he didn't notice the fighting. He didn't want her to worry about him.
One night, he couldn't pretend any longer.
It was shortly after he'd turned eight, and his Mom's latest boyfriend (Levi couldn't remember now what his name had been, K-something) had stumbled in drunk at three in the morning. He tripped over the edge of Levi's "bed" and started to scream at him for it. Levi's mom had come out of her bedroom just in time to see him backhand Levi across the face, and she quickly placed herself between them, telling Levi to go into her room. He'd hesitated, and she'd screamed at him to just go as she tried to hold the enraged man back. So, he'd went, shutting the door behind him.
It didn't do much to block the sounds of the fight.
At first he was okay. The screaming, the sound of a slap, breaking glass, those were familiar; he could deal with that. It was when he heard the distinct sound of a fist hitting flesh, accompanied by a sickening crunch and the abrupt stop of the screaming, that Levi became truly frightened and used the phone on the nightstand to quietly dial 911.
The night ended with the boyfriend in jail, Levi's mom in the hospital with a concussion, internal bleeding, and a broken jaw, and Levi shivering in a hospital waiting room while a string of men, first in police uniforms and then in suits, tried to coax his story out of him.
The next day, different men in suits bundled him off to a foster home. They'd contacted his grandparents first, but they'd adamantly refused to let "street trash" into their house. They hadn't been able to contact his father's side of the family at all. It was only supposed to be temporary, just until his mother got out of the hospital, but when she'd refused to press charges against the man that had nearly killed her, Family Services had stepped in and declared her home "unfit." Just like that, Levi became a ward of the state.
For the next five years, he was bounced around from foster family to foster family. Levi didn't really understand why he wasn't allowed to return home, when a lot of them were as bad, or worse, than what he’d left. Some of the families were neglectful, some were abusive, and even the ones who weren't were soon begging the social workers to take him back, claiming they couldn't handle him. Levi supposed that part of it was his fault; he already had a tendency to be withdrawn, and soon he became sullen on top of it and prone to occasional fits of violent outbursts. He just wanted to go home.
He said as much to Keith Shadis, the social worker assigned to his case. The man had picked Levi up that morning from the latest failed foster home, and that afternoon he’d be dropping him off with a new family.
Someone else to look at Levi like he was a problem that needed fixing.
Shadis sighed and ran a hand over his bald pate as his eyes flicked up from the thick file on his desk to the thirteen year old sitting slouched in a chair, picking at non-existent dirt on his faded jeans. Levi was short for his age and wiry, his straight black hair falling forward and obscuring his eyes as he focused on his knee.
“You know you can’t, Levi. You really need to stop fighting your foster families so much; they’re only trying to help you.”
“Help me?” Silver eyes shot up to glare at the man behind the desk. “Those last bastards would lock me in a fucking broom closet for hours at a time so I could ‘think about what I’d done.’” He raised his fingers up to make sarcastic air quotes. “I’m surprised I never got a bladder infection from holding my piss for so long.”
“I didn't mean the Harpers in particular, and we’re looking into that.” Levi snorted and rolled his eyes. Shadis ignored him and continued, “It’s getting harder to place you; there aren't very many families willing to take you in anymore after seeing your file.”
“No one wants me, big fucking surprise. Next thing you’re going to tell me is that eating makes people shit.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head away to stare out the window.
There was another heavy sigh from Shadis as he pulled a page out from the file. “The point is, Levi, you’re running out of options. I really had to fight to get you assigned to this new family; normally they just take temporary placements, but now that their son is older, Professor Smith said he’d take a kid on a more permanent basis. A lot of my co-workers,” he paused to make a noise of contempt, “thought that the spot should go to a ‘kid that deserves it, not someone that’s just going to end up in Juvie in a couple years.’” Levi didn't say anything, but his eyes locked on Shadis again, and his jaw noticeably clenched. Shadis nodded as if he was satisfied with what he saw, “I want you to at least give them a chance. This could be a good opportunity for you.”
Levi shrugged then stood, grabbing his single duffel bag of belongings as Shadis moved his paperwork to his briefcase. “Fine. If they’re terrible, I can just run away again.”
“You really need to stop doing that, Levi.”
A small smirk, “Always gets your attention.”
~~~~~
Levi's new foster father, Ethan Smith, was a Sociology professor at Sina University. His wife, Rose, chaired some sort of outreach program for disadvantaged youth. They had one son, Erwin, who was a couple years older than Levi and just finishing his freshman year of high school. After the introductions, Professor Smith told Erwin to show Levi up to his room. Levi shouldered his bag once more and followed the tall blond boy out while the adults stayed behind to talk with Shadis. He looked around curiously as he walked. They passed what looked like a living room, but they'd just left the living room. Who the fuck needed two living rooms? And the dining room looked like it could fit twenty people. As they climbed the stairs, Levi muttered, "This is a big ass house."
Erwin laughed a little, "Yeah. We have to keep a couple Sherpas on stand-by whenever Mom and Dad host a party in case any of the guests get lost."
"Oh, great," Levi rolled his eyes, "you think you're funny."
Erwin just laughed again before turning left at the top of the stairs and opening the second door on the right. "Here, this one's yours." He stepped aside to let Levi enter first.
Levi set his bag down on the floor and looked around. The room was painted in a soft cream color, and the carpet was a darker version of the same shade. There was good-sized bed against the wall opposite the door, under a window that looked out over a flower garden behind the house. Next to the bed, there was a writing desk under a second window. A tall dresser stood to the right of the hallway door, and there were two doors in the wall on the right-hand side of the room. One of them opened up into a small closet and the other...
"I have my own bathroom?"
Erwin nodded, "Yes. Sorry it only has a shower. If you want to take a bath, there's another bathroom in the hallway."
Levi raised an eyebrow, "Like I'd want to marinate in my own filthy ass-soup. Gross." He started to pull his clothes out, putting them away in the dresser and the closet.
Erwin watched him for a moment, "Is that all you have?"
"No, I'm Mary fucking Poppins. Give me five minutes and I'll start pulling lamps and shit out of this thing," he snapped.
Erwin had the grace to look embarrassed. "Sorry. Uh, anyway, dinner's usually at seven, and we dress for it."
"I should fucking hope so."
"No, I mean we-"
"I knew what you meant, Christ. It was a joke." Levi grabbed his toiletries and put them in the bathroom before rolling up the empty duffel and putting it in the bottom of the closet. He turned back around. "Look, uh, Erwin. Don't take this the wrong way, but I've had a long-ass day. So could you kindly get the fuck out so I can take a nap?" Levi walked over and opened the door, raising one thin eyebrow as he craned his head to look up at Erwin.
The older boy smiled, "Sure. If you want some company later, I'll be down in the family room. We just got a Playstation; we could load up some games if you wanted."
"Family room?"
"We passed it on the way here; the room with the big TV in it."
"Oh. I thought that was another living room."
Erwin laughed, "It's the same thing, really. Well, I'll let you sleep. See you at dinner, Levi." He left, and Levi shut the door behind him. When he did, he noticed that there was a lock. On the inside. He stared at it for a moment before clicking it.
Levi sat down on the bed, still staring contemplatively at the door. He'd never had a room with a lock before. At least, not on the inside. There'd been a few where there'd been locks on the outside. Or there'd been no door at all. Or he'd had to share a room, either with other foster children or with the family's own children. It was weird, but thanks to that one little bit of privacy, he actually felt like he had a space that belonged to him, and only him.
He laid down on the bed and stared up at his ceiling. His ceiling in his room. His mind wandered back to Erwin. Levi had been abrasive to him on purpose, testing to see what his reaction would be. He always tested new foster siblings, to see how bad their temper was and if he'd need to be cautious around them. The temperament of the kids usually also gave him a good idea of what the parents would be like, once Shadis was gone and they dropped their masks. It was a survival instinct by this point.
Erwin had been completely unruffled. Calm. It was a good sign. But it scared Levi for a different reason: it meant that it might actually hurt when he had to leave.
Levi rolled over on his side. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered how long it would be this time. How long it would be until the Smiths gave up on him, like everyone else had.