Chapter Text
He doesn’t belong here. In this place. Doesn’t belong around these people. Doesn’t fit.
Levi has no idea what he’s doing.
This big motherfucker here… Mike, or whatever the fuck… he hates him. Levi can tell. He hates him a whole fuckin’ lot.
Levi guesses he can’t blame him. He did try to kill Erwin. He was gonna’ do it, too. Fuck, he’d… he’d been ready. He’d been so God damned fuckin’ angry… Still was, sometimes, at the big, blonde bastard. When he thought about…
Ah… but what the hell difference did all that make now?
Erwin had started talkin’, and Levi had… he’d realized he didn’t know this man at all. Had had him pegged all wrong. Let his own fuckin’ pride get in the way of seein’ right. Seein’ at all.
It was what… what got Furlan and Isabel dead.
Fuck, he can’t think of this right now.
Mike hates him, and the feelin’s fuckin’ mutual, and the big son of a bitch is itching for a fight.
There’s a group of Corps members gather round them, growing larger by the second. Levi can hear ‘em whisperin’ to each other, takin’ bets on who’s gonna’ win this fight.
Most of ‘em are dead sure it’s Mike. Levi can’t blame ‘em for that either. The fuck’s more than a foot taller than him. The top of Levi’s head barely comes up to his chest.
But they don’t know, like folks in the Underground didn’t know, ‘till they learned better, just what Levi was.
Mike’s big, and strong, and pretty fast, for a guy that size. But he ain’t no kinda’ shit Levi hasn’t taken care of a hundred times before.
“You’re fuckin’ gutter trash, you little bastard!” Mike spits down at him, his long body tensed, ready to pounce. “You don’t belong here.”
Levi says nothing, just stares up at him with the same, blank expression he always wears, and he can see it riling Mike up all the more.
It’s not like Levi don’t agree.
Mike sneers.
“Someone ought to beat some respect into you, you damned punk. You think you can get away with that shit you pulled back there? Not saluting? You think that’s alright?”
Someone ought to beat some respect into him, huh? Yeah, heard that plenty. Got that plenty, from Kenny. From Finch, back before Mama died…
“I don’t care about your shitty salute.” Levi tells him. “If you wanna’ beat my ass, you're welcome to try.”
There’s a collective “ohhhh” that goes up around the gathering crowd.
“Pff, what would be the point?” Mike snaps back. “What are you, five foot one, maybe two? There wouldn’t be any sport in it.”
“That’s a convenient excuse.”
More ohh’s and ahh’s from the crowd, and that finally seems to force Mike into action.
He comes at Levi, not sloppy, but quick and precise. A trained control you only got from practice and natural ability.
Levi ducks easily out of the way of his first strike, and fast as Mike is, Levi is faster still. He turns before Mike can regain his balance from the missed blow, reaches out and grabs hold of his collar, hooks his calf round behind the bigger man’s knee and sweeps his feet out from under him, using his weight to push him down into the dirt.
He steps back and clear of Mike’s reach and watches him splutter on the ground. He isn’t hurt. Just angry.
He jumps to his feet, a look on his face like he can’t believe some pint-sized twerp just put him on his ass.
Levi got that a lot. People thought, ‘cause he was small, he was weak. He wasn’t. He was strong. Really strong.
Levi looks back at him, his hands loose at his sides.
Mike reaches up, flicks at his nose.
“Alright. I’ll give you that.” He says, voice tight. He’s more wary now than before. Not as sure.
Levi shrugs, casual, unconcerned.
“Come on Mike! My ten year old kid’s bigger than his ass! Beat him up!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mike calls back, never taking his eyes off Levi.
He’s waiting for Levi to make a move, but Levi just stands there, no intention of moving at all, until Mike finally loses patience and comes at him again.
He tries jabbing Levi in the face, and Levi bobs out of the way, ducking under it and coming up, catching Mike in the side with a left hook. He doesn’t hit him that hard, but hard enough to make it hurt. Mike grunts and tries to counter with a right hook to Levi’s jaw. Levi makes him miss again, and pops him in the face with his own jab. It doesn’t have much strength, ‘cause he has to punch up to even land it.
Mike reaches out to grab him, and Levi’s takes hold of his wrist, jerking him forward. He sees Mike’s eyes go wide in shock at Levi’s strength, and Levi’s got his calf hooked behind Mike’s knee again. Sweeps him again. He’s still got hold of his wrist as Mike hits the ground, and Levi lets himself fall with him, onto his back as he pulls Mike’s arm out straight, locking it between his knees, gripping the wrist with both hands now. He twists, and Mike’s face twists with it, naked pain screwing up his features.
Levi could snap the bone in a second, and Mike knows it.
“Fuck…” he grinds out, trying to rip his arm free. Levi doesn’t let go.
“I’ll break it if you don’t give up.” Levi tells him.
He won’t really. But he wants Mike to know he can. To stop fuckin’ with him.
“Like hell I’m gonna’ let a shrimp like you win!” Mike growls, and he’s really straining now, putting all his strength into tearing free. But Levi’s got his entire body locked round Mike’s arm. There’s no getting away. He twists it harder, and Mike cries out.
The crowd around them is starting to get whipped up, voices rising to a dull hum, all mixed together.
Mike’s face is startin’ to turn red with his effort, and Levi can feel his strength draining. He doesn’t let up.
Finally, after nearly a full minute of useless struggle, Mike concedes, voice panting harshly.
“Al-alright. Alright! Lemme’ go, you little rat bastard!”
Levi lets him go and is back on his feet, already turnin’ and walkin’ away.
The gathered soldiers are smart enough to get outta’ his way as he pushes through ‘em. Halfway through the crowd, he feels a heavy hand land on his shoulder from behind, and when he turns, he’s met with a broad chest.
He looks up, and it’s Erwin Smith.
“That was impressive, back there.” Erwin nods his head back to where Mike probably still was. “I’ve never seen anyone do that to him. I’ve never seen Mike lose a fight at all.”
Levi shrugs, looking away.
Erwin unnerves him.
He’d had a hard time admitting that to himself, at first. That there could be anyone who left him feelin’ like this. Off balance and unsure. But Erwin does. Levi can’t read him. Not really. He don’t ever know what the man is thinking, and that sets off all kindsa’ alarm bells in his head. Anyone you couldn’t read, couldn’t predict, that left you exposed to all kindsa’ danger. Levi knows. Kenny always taught him good, ‘bout that kinda’ thing.
Not that Levi doesn’t think he could take Erwin in a fight. He could. But he don’t know what it is Erwin sees when he looks at him. Don’t know what he wants.
He don’t let none of that show on his face now though, keepin’ his expression flat.
Erwin keeps lookin’ down at him with those piercing eyes of his which seem to see too much, and Levi struggles not to fidget.
“Do you think you could teach some of what you know to our recruits? Our vets even?” He asks after a long moment.
Levi shrugs again.
“I can try. I’ve never taught no one how to fight, ‘cept Fur…” his voice cuts off, teeth clenching hard together when he realizes what he’s about to say. Furlan and Isabel. He’d tried teachin’ ‘em what he knew. Taught ‘em as much as he could. Lot ‘a fuckin’ good it did ‘em, in the end.
Erwin’s hand is warm and heavy on his shoulder, and Levi resists the urge to tear outta’ his grip when that hand squeezes gently.
He don’t know what Erwin sees in him. What he wants.
“That would be appreciated, Levi.”
“Sure.” Levi says, still lookin’ away.
He wants to leave. He wants to go some place dark and cool, where nobody can look at him.
He’s sicka’ all this. People lookin’ at him, that scared, awed look in their eyes, like they can’t decide if he’s somethin’ they should run from, or watch and study, like some kinda’ animal in a cage.
There’s nobody in this place for him to talk to. Not really. They don’t understand him. Where he comes from. What it’s like, down there. Down in the dark. He don’t know how to tell ‘em. Doesn’t think they’d even care to know if he could. Why would they? Who wants to know ‘bout that kinda’ stuff? What it’s like to be starvin’ to death. Real starvin’, when your stomach starts eatin’ itself. What it’s like when you can’t even get holda’ clean water. When there ain’t no where to shit but in the street.
Nobody wants to hear ‘bout that kinda’ stuff.
He talks to Erwin sometimes, but that’s it, and that’s usually just to exchange strategic ideas for outside the walls. Erwin seems to think Levi’s got a good head for that kinda’ stuff. He listens to Levi’s ideas ‘bout how to take down Titans. ‘Bout how to work more effectively in units. Levi don’t know why, but Erwin listens.
But Erwin leaves him feelin’ off-center. Leaves him feelin’ small and wretched, like he really ain’t nothin’ more than a petty, stupid criminal. In the face of Erwin’s far-reaching gaze, lookin’ off someplace Levi can’t even begin to imagine, let alone see. He feels the weight of his own insignificance, standing next to this man. The meaningless struggle of his own, poor existence.
He wishes he could be like Erwin, sometimes. Wishes he could see that far. See somethin’ more, than all the pain and scratchin’ and fightin’ that makes up all Levi’s dumb life.
Erwin’s hand gives his shoulder one last squeeze, before he finally pulls it away, and Levi nearly sags in relief.
“Wonderful. Maybe come by my office later this evening, if you have a chance, and we can discuss implementing lessons into our daily training exercises?”
Levi nods, and swallows past the dryness in his throat.
He don’t say anything more, just turns and pushes the rest of the way through the crowd.
He keeps goin’, ‘till he reaches back to the stables, and ducks inside.
It stinks like horse shit, but that’s okay. Levi’s used to worse than that.
He goes and finds his little mare. Some of the other Scouts laughed, ‘cause Levi was too short to ride the big stallions the other men rode. Whatever. People were always laughin’ at him ‘bout that. ‘Bout how small he was. Whatever. Didn’t bother him none, no more.
He’s named his horse Chrissy. She’s a good horse. She whinnies when she sees him, and he reaches up, cuppin’ her soft snout, likin’ the way the stiff hairs rub against the pads of his fingers.
Somethin’ like a laugh works from his throat when she reaches over the stall and wiggles her lips at his hair, mussin’ it up.
“You’re a good girl, huh Chrissy.” He tells her, quiet, holdin’ her noble face between his hands. She huffs, warm breath in his face.
Levi pushes himself up onto the tips of his toes, leanin’ back over the door. He presses his forehead to her snout.
“Yeah,” he tells her. “Guess you’re the best friend I got now, Chrissy. Huh? Guess… guess you’re the only friend I got.”
Levi snorts at himself. That sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.
… Wasn’t like it wasn’t true though.
Ain’t got no friends here.
Guesses…
Guesses, he ain’t felt this alone since Kenny left him, all them years ago.
Ain’t felt this alone since then.