~STITCH IT TOGETHER~
Following Levi's Special Ops squad long before the events of Trost... four soldiers determined to make a difference in humanity's fate. Four hearts beating as one; four sets of paired blades paving a future for humanity with the blood of titans.
And to lead them, one man of unprecedented skill, the living legend known as Humanity's Strongest Soldier.
But beneath the guts and glory, these five are only human after all. Most people wouldn't necessarily count the ruthless, expressionless Lance Corporal Levi in that category, however...
Petra Ral is determined to prove that notion wrong.
PROLOGUE: Stitches
"It's okay… shh… that's a good girl," the honey-blonde haired soldier crooned, her hand outstretched with an offering. With a resigned snort, the black beast accepted the carrot, and the soldier.
Petra liked her captain's horse, she decided as she brushed the dark mare named Crasher. The powerful thoroughbred was calm and graceful, but fierce when the situation called for it, much like her owner. She was, however, rather bull-headed towards most people and had an odd propensity towards crashing into things just to give a rider she didn't like a hard time. Even as a horse, she didn't take shit from anyone... also like her owner, Petra thought behind an amused smile.
The day had been a rather routine one at the Survey Corps headquarters; hours of training followed by hours of chores. The horses needed to get their new shoes put in today, and Petra had volunteered for the task. A troubling lack of new recruits to do the busy work meant that even the elite squads had to take shifts doing some of the manual labor. Erd, Gunther, and Auruo had all gotten stuck with mucking out stalls for the afternoon, but Petra's extended knowledge of horse care had blessed her with a better job to do.
Crasher was the last horse left that still needed to receive the new horseshoes. Petra led her out of her stall and tied her down the middle of the barn hall. She first removed the old shoes, then began picking out the trapped dirt from the hooves with the hoofpick. She was just finishing the second leg when her ears picked up soft footsteps behind her.
Petra turned around to see her captain, standing by the doorway with his arms crossed, his bored eyes staring vaguely at his horse. His raven-colored hair framed his face neatly, with his signature undercut, cravat, and scouting legion jacket. Although he was small of stature, he was undeniably large of presence.
"Captain! Hi, umm," the honey-haired girl fidgeted awkwardly for a moment, not sure whether or not to salute. But something about his stance looked more relaxed than usual, so she decided it probably wasn't necessary. Instead she gave a warm smile. "What brings you here?"
"I finished all my work early, and shitty-glasses took it as an invitation to talk my ear off about titans," Levi began, plopping down on the bench against the wall, "I decided I'd rather help my squad in the stables than listen to her incessant chatter. But like hell if I'd ever help those idiots scoop out heaping piles of horse shit. So here I am with you, Petra..." he trailed off, rubbing his temple between his thumb and pointer finger.
Petra nodded, noting that he didn't really look to have any intention of getting up to help her. More likely he had just come here to get some peace and quiet. She doubted he realized that replacing horseshoes required hammering in a lot of nails.
She got back to work cleaning the rest of Crasher's hooves, allowing her captain to have at least some quiet time. His horse, like everything else he owned, was always kept in pristine condition, so the cleaning didn't take long. She felt his eyes on her as she worked.
After nailing the first front shoe in, she looked up to see Levi rubbing his temple again.
"Captain, would you like to help me nail these in? It's always easier with two people," Petra said softly, amber eyes looking him over kindly.
The Lance Corporal nodded, getting up rather reluctantly, and she almost felt bad for not just letting him sit and rest. She waved the slight regret off as he walked over to stand in front of her.
"Tell me what to do, " he said, patting the black mare softly on her muscled neck. She nickered at her owner in response.
"Just pick up her foot and hold it up for me as I fit the shoe, then I'll hammer it in," Petra said. She peeled her gaze away from his tired face, his eyes roaming the well-groomed mare approvingly. Those icy-gray eyes of his were almost too easy to get sucked into at times; especially in the rare moments when the intensity of his face dropped to reveal a more human side of the inhuman titan slayer. She found him infinitely fascinating in this way; she swore she could watch him all day if not for the fact that it would hardly be appropriate. She was his subordinate, after all.
Levi trailed his fingers down Crasher's front leg, leaning his shoulder against the mare's to shift her weight to her other side. He bent over as she lifted her hoof, his hands supporting it.
Petra went about nailing the shoe in as Levi held everything in place patiently, silently observing the procedure. Her fingers worked quickly with deft precision. As they worked on and made their way to nailing the other shoes, she became more at ease with his close proximity, and they fell into wordless, synchronized teamwork.
As she was hammering in the finishing nail on the last horseshoe, her hand slipped and she caught a sharp edge of the shoe, slicing deeply into her right-hand palm.
"Ah!" she yanked her hand away, blood dripping down to her wrist. The pain was sharp, but it was eclipsed by her imminent embarrassment in front of her captain.
"Shit, Petra," Levi frowned, setting the hoof down and pulling out a handkerchief. "Here," he gently took her hand and wrapped it in the white cloth, permanently dying it red with her blood. His expression looked slightly more tired than before, brow low over sunken gray eyes.
Petra felt him apply pressure to her hand, and she imagined her face as a deep shade of red by now; she was definitely flustered at this point.
"I-it's ok, captain! It's just a cut…"
"Bullshit. You're bleeding like a fucking fountain," he grumbled, squeezing her palm harder with both of his thumbs, enveloping the rest of her hand in his own warm hands. "Tch... you're gonna need stitches or something."
Levi dropped one of his hands, but continued to apply pressure with the other.
"Come on, let's get out of this dirty place and take care of your hand." He turned away, tugging on her hand for her to follow him out.
Captain Levi… holding my hand? Petra thought as she followed her captain's lead out of the stables into the dark night. She knew it definitely wasn't like that, and that he was just helping her to stop the bleeding, but it still made her nervous. She hated how it was making her blush like some silly wall Sina maiden, and was thankful for the darkness that would hopefully conceal the shade of her face. It was ironic how his stone-cold glares never fazed her but a simple kind gesture got her all flustered. Perhaps because it was unexpected; she was actually rather surprised he hadn't called her an idiot yet for accidentally cutting herself.
Luckily they didn't encounter anyone on the short walk to Levi's office; it was just around supper time so everyone who had finished their chores and training was probably in the mess hall eating. Levi was still gripping her hand, and she felt more at ease with it now. It felt nice, truthfully, and she fought the urge to curl her fingers and grip his own hand in return just for the hell of it; she almost laughed at the thought of how ridiculous that would be. She wondered idly what kind of unamused glare that would earn her.
"Sir, do you think someone will put Crasher back in her stall?" Petra said as they made their way down the hall, remembering how they had left the mare tied up in the middle.
"Don't worry about it," Levi replied evenly. He pushed the door into his office and led her in, closing the door behind them. He lifted the bloodied handkerchief from her hand, his sunken eyes seeming pleased to find the bleeding mostly stopped.
He handed her a dampened cloth. "Clean the wound, Petra," he ordered, walking back to his desk to retrieve something.
She wiped away the dried blood on her hand and wrist, cringing at the sting as she passed it over the open cut. By the desk she heard Levi rummaging for something and wondered what it might be.
He found what he was looking for and placed it on the desk, then walked back over to her. He looked from her to the desk, seemingly debating something in his head.
"Oi… I can stitch you up myself, but I'll be honest here: I've only done this once before. If you're uncomfortable with me doing it, you can probably get the legion medics to take care of it. It will take much longer for them though, as they always have a long queue of injuries to tend to."
"You can do it, captain. I trust you," Petra affirmed with a bright smile, meeting his sunken gray eyes with her own.
"Sit up here then," Levi said, patting the clean top of his desk.
Petra hesitated a moment. Sitting... on his desk? It would probably put her in the best position for him to work on her hand, she guessed. She wondered vaguely if he had ever let anyone else sit atop his desk as she scooched herself onto the wooden surface.
He reached over to retrieve a thin, translucent pair of gloves and slipped them on; the same kind he used for cleaning; to which Petra stifled a giggle - it was so like him to ensure the cleanliness of every situation.
He threaded a needle with twine then struck a match, holding the tiny flame to the needle point.
"You taught me how to shoe a horse today. Now I'll teach you how to stitch a wound," Levi low voice came calmly as he shook out the match and tossed it into a cup of water.
"Yes, sir," Petra said. She was no stranger to receiving stitches - she had acquired more than a few scars of varying length throughout her years in the legion - but she had never really paid attention to the procedure. Levi's steady hands were easy to watch, though she winced as the hot needle pierced her skin at first. He was holding her hand steady, palm up, with his left hand while his right wielded the threaded needle. He was really close to her, his hip against her knee, and she could smell his subtle scent; pine and soap. The man really did have cleanliness down to the finest details.
It took a while for him to sew up the whole wound, but his demeanor remained remarkably calm throughout. If he hadn't told her before that it was only his second time giving stitches, Petra would never have guessed. He was a natural; as if he were one of those medics who sewed people up every day.
After tying the last knot, he cleaned her hand again with the cool damp cloth, then wrapped it thinly in bandage. She glanced up at him briefly, almost smiling at his low-brow face of concentration. He managed to look good no matter what he was doing ...
Petra felt the comforting warmth of his hands leave hers as he drew back to remove the gloves. She looked down, admiring his neat handiwork.
"Thank you, captain," she said with another bright smile. She wished she could say something more to him, or have a real conversation, but he was tired and her superior and so utterly unreachable...
Levi said nothing, but instead opened the door and flicked the lights off. "You should go get supper with the other soldiers. Hopefully those brats haven't eaten your rations for you by now... tch... shitty food anyway..." he trailed off.
"Ohh.. you're not going to eat anything, captain? Do you want me to bring you something?" She asked, catching up to match his pace beside him down the hall.
"I'm not hungry. I'm fucking tired, that's what I am," he stopped beside the staircase and turned to face her, his hands tugging at his cravat to loosen it. "Get enough rest, too. Tomorrow we resume our training schedule at first light ."
They made eye contact briefly as she nodded, not failing to notice his bored gray eyes looking a bit glazed over. Wow, he really is quite tired... she thought.
He turned his back to her and proceeded up the stairs, and Petra's lips turned to a small smile as she watched his small form moving away. He had such nice shoulders when he walked away, small but strong…
"Good night!" She called as she turned to walk to the mess hall. Although she received no response, she knew he had heard. His brash attitude was nothing new; she was used to it and unfazed. Among the Special Operations squad, they had all come to respect their captain deeply; from his meticulous cleaning habits to his blunt, standoffish manner to the subtle way when, at rare moments, he showed infinite compassion for his comrades. It made him who he was, and Petra admired all of him.
Thanks for reading!
This story will update roughly twice a month... stay tuned all you Rivetra/SNK fans :)