Mikasa

Levi,

What the hell was that stunt you pulled just then?

Whipping Eren with a tube of toothpaste, throwing a doorknob at your editor, answering the doorbell with a dried-up condom—you've always had a flair for theatrics, even though you try to cover it up by sipping away at your coffee and/or beer, all while faking boredom. I usually have a pretty high tolerance for these antics, but please, for the love of God, going into "V-tach," as the doctors called it, is taking things way too far.

Did you give up just then? You have a long road of recovery ahead of you. Dozens of follow-up neurological examinations, physical therapy for your busted leg, two long scars running down your face—surely, it's daunting. But I know for a fact that you can do it, and I'll be right here by your side, ready to listen every time you need to bitch or moan. Don't you dare give up, Levi. You're better than this.

Let me remind you that until you publish, Erwin's story is and will be unfinished, even if Floch happens to beat us to the punch. You're the only one on the face of this planet who can give proper justice to that story, so please, no more cardiac scares.

It's time to get back to work.

Wake up soon,
Mikasa

Levi,

You told me about how Furlan wrote you all these letters when he was in South America. When you wake up, we need to catch you up to speed, so I figured I'd borrow Furlan's strategy. That way, I'll get everything down while it's fresh in my mind. I'll try not to miss anything.

And also, you told me that pen and paper can "tease out stubborn thoughts." I've been trying to process things better. I've been pushing myself to talk to Eren about how I'm feeling and how I'm handling everything, and he's the best, Levi. He knows me like the back of his hand, and he knows how to listen to me. But at the same time, there's more on my mind, hiding in the way-back corners of my head. So hopefully, writing will coax those thoughts out.

Some quick updates. I apologized to Jean, and I gave that letter to Eren. Eren tricked me into reading it out loud, which was a harrowing experience for me, but I'm glad he did. Building up the courage to say things is an uphill climb, but once those words come out, the relief is incredible. Jean and I aren't talking, which is probably for the best. But Eren and I are talking, as in properly talking again, and we have so much ground to cover.

I'm living with the Jaegers right now. They're letting me stay in their guest bedroom, but sometimes I go home when I need to be alone, and I sit on the back patio. I'm making good progress on interviews and copy-editing, and there's a lot to argue over, so bring your A-game when we duke it out. Coach Rico was pissed about me missing a week of school, but she still let me play at states. We won, by the way, and Ymir (the loud, freckly one) threw a celebratory party at her house. Carla misses you a lot. She looks so tired all the time, and I think you were her rock throughout these divorce proceedings.

A random thought, but Levi, we would both benefit from therapy. You'd insist that we're fine with our home remedies of weed, beer, and stationery, but I still think we should look into it when you get better.

Wake up soon,
Mikasa

Levi,

I went to the public library and dug up every one of your articles. I walked out with stacks of old newspapers. Granted, I could've pulled these up in the online archives, but you've always seemed to be loyal to ink and paper. You scorned the idea of getting a Kindle, and you only take your news and magazine subscriptions in print. Physical manuscripts read differently than digital texts, you told me, when we were arguing over this.

I read your obituaries of Isabel and Furlan. Isabel seems like such a character, and it's evident in your writing that you had a soft spot for her. You mentioned that you answered each and every one of Furlan's letters after he died. What ever happened to those responses?

I also got a copy of the book you wrote with Erwin. I know you're on the rocks with your editor, but I'm so tempted to send her an email. As I was reading, I noticed that your prose was devoid of our usual points of contention, which means that she managed to convince you of her revisions. I also noticed that you and Erwin alternated chapters. You're right. His writing tends to get too flowery and ornate. In contrast, yours is crisper and cleaner. This is just my take, but I feel relieved when we switch over from Erwin's chapters to yours.

Wake up soon,

Mikasa

Levi,

Sorry if this letter comes off as a little heated, but I'm frustrated right now. Eren and I are fighting. And it doesn't help that we're living under the same roof right now.

I can picture your face right now, Levi. If you were awake, you'd roll your eyes, and you'd go off on how stupid this drama is. And here's the thing: you're right. It's downright stupid, and I wish you were lucid so that you could say your snide, cynical things, which somehow both irritate and amuse me, but at the end of the day, it makes me feel a little better. And after you make your last wise-crack, I wish I could hear your verdict on the matter. (I'm pretty sure you'd take my side.)

Every so often, Eren goes into Chicago to see his half-brother Zeke. I have a feeling Zeke would really grind your gears. I've only met him once, but he only talks in circles, and by doing this, he knows how to swindle people into doing him enormous, strenuous, risky favors. You'd see right through his B.S, Levi.

As you know, Connie and Sasha have a marijuana business, and because Eren and I are good friends with them, we get discounts on weed. Zeke caught wind of this, and he's been asking Eren to buy massive amounts—sometimes five to six O's at a time!—which Zeke then sells to his customers in Chicago for higher prices.

I don't like it because Zeke's been wrapped up in some sketchy stuff, especially with harder substances like cocaine. He's introduced Eren to shrooms and LSD, which, to my understanding, are relatively safe, but I'm worried that the more Eren does, the more curious he'll become towards other, more dangerous drugs. Also, I'm pissed that Zeke drafted Eren as a participant in his enterprise. This makes me nervous because Eren thinks it's okay to drive twenty miles-per-hour over the speed limit on the highway. If a cop happens to pull him over, and if Eren happens to have those five-to-six ounces on him, then it's game over.

So naturally, I sat him down, and I tried to talk some sense into him, but he kept shrugging me aside, telling me not to worry. I kept trying to dissuade him from helping Zeke, and eventually, we started yelling at each other. I might've jumped the gun on this, but at one point, I threatened to tell Carla. I must've hit a particularly sensitive nerve because I've never seen him so angry before. He blew up at me, saying that I'd never understand what it's like to be both "Team Mom" and on civil terms with his dad's side of the family. And he accused me of almost wrecking the delicate balance he's found between these two interests.

As a result, it's awkward and tense now. It's hard to be in the same space as him, and I think I'm going to spend a couple of days alone at home. I hope it blows over with time and space. Waiting it out—that's the best solution, right?

Wake up soon,
Mikasa

Levi,

I've never hung out one-on-one with Hanji before. It's always been the three of us—you, me, and her—sitting in her bar or walking around Hyde Park. But I just had a much-needed escape from Evanston, so I spent the weekend with her.

For the record, this was her idea, but she helped me get a fake ID, an endeavor that took up an entire afternoon. She helped me take a picture, and she even messed with the pixels and colors in Photoshop to make me look slightly older. Then, she took me to a friend of hers who prints counterfeit driver's licenses, and she let me pick between Iowa, Wisconsin, and Indiana. Apparently, it's best to use a neighboring state—a crucial detail that went unheeded by Eren, who decided to pick Rhode Island, of all places.

Once we got it printed, we took my Wisconsin driver's license out for a test run by going clubbing. I'm an awful dancer, but alcohol does wonders in loosening me up—well, maybe a little too much. I almost twisted my ankle in those heels you always make fun of. Also, please don't yell at Hanji for this, but she had a little too much to drink, so I had to almost carry her back to her apartment.

I tucked Hanji into bed and made sure that she was rolled onto her side with a trashcan within reach. After that, I crashed on the couch. That's where you used to sleep, right? How did you ever get a good night's rest on it? It was ridiculously squeaky, not to mention hard as a rock!

The next morning, we were both horribly hungover, so we spent the whole day watching movies and recovering. We talked for hours, and Hanji spilled a bunch of secrets about you. She's armed me with a huge supply of blackmail, so don't plan on winning any arguments for the foreseeable future. She's confident you'll have a speedy recovery, and she's already planned our first outing once you're up for it. I don't want to spoil anything, but if you want a teaser, it has something to do with crossing the border into Canada and wreaking havoc in Toronto.

By the evening, we felt better, and Hanji suggested that we drive to Floch's place with a carton of eggs—again, her idea, not mine. Let's just hope his windshield wipers work properly… Don't worry, we have photo evidence, and you'll see the carnage when you decide to join us again.

And now, I'm sitting at the bar, writing this letter, as Hanji pours drinks for patrons. Remember how I used to hate IPA's? They're growing on me. I'm starting to see what you mean when you say that hops have a "grapefruity" flavor. While this weekend was fun, both Hanji and I agreed that it felt off without you. She somehow compared the three of us to the Affordable Care Act, saying that we're like a tripod stool that topples when one leg is missing. Strange choice of metaphor, but I hear what she's saying.

Tomorrow, I'll have to drive back to Evanston. I hate fighting with Eren. I think I stepped out of bounds when I mentioned Carla, and I should apologize.

Wake up soon,
Mikasa

Levi,

I have some explaining to do. Please read this in its entirety before you blow a gasket at me.

I'll start with the good news. Eren and I talked. At first, the conversation was jumbled. We were both trying to apologize at the same time, and we ended up getting into a mini-argument over who gets to say "sorry" first, but eventually, we were able to discuss things in a mature fashion. Surprisingly, Eren thought things over, and he's decided to stop ferrying weed orders for Zeke. Eren says that I'm always right about these kinds of things and that he'll always trust my judgment (which made me feel kinda smug, but I did my best to conceal it). I'm getting better at saying what's on my mind without having to write it out first. I apologized for intruding on the complicated affairs of his family, and he insisted it he was the one being dumb. Everything's peachy now, hooray.

So… the bad news.

We hadn't seen each other for several days, and we missed each other a lot, so Eren suggested that we watch the sunset by Lake Michigan. I'll spare you the details, but we fooled around in the back of his station wagon, and while we were laying in the trunk, looking at the stars, there was a knock on the window. Sure enough, it was the police. We had to scramble to get our clothes back on, and since we're just one year shy of being legal adults, the cops had to call Carla, informing her of, well, our activities.

Anyways, when you get better, there's a notice from the police waiting for you on the mail counter, and I thought that I'd give you a head's up. Carla yelled at us for being careless, and she sat us down for The Talk, which was humiliating. But luckily, nothing will ever compare to that screwdriver incident. I still can't believe you had the gall to answer the doorbell like that…

Don't worry, we bought Carla some beer and made her an apple pie as a proper apology—though she's not convinced of our white lie, in which we insisted that Hanji helped us purchase the alcohol. Now she suspects that we have fake IDs.

Wake up soon,
Mikasa

Levi,

I do want you to wake up—please wake up—but a part of me dreads the moment when you read this particular letter. You've always had this uncanny, borderline creepy ability to know what's going on, even though the details haven't made themselves explicit to you. You know things, like the reason why I got involved with Jean, and also the fact that I was just going through a pregnancy scare, rather than the real thing. How do you do that?

So when I wheel you out of this hospital and hand you all these embarrassing letters, please don't rub it in too much. You win, okay? Or, at the very least, don't rub too much salt into the wound, please and thank you. I can imagine your expression when you read this. You do this thing where you raise your eyebrows in an annoyingly pompous way when you win arguments. It's by no means a dramatic, Steve Carell-level expression, but I wonder if that's by design because the subtle smugness ticks me off to no end.

So here goes: The other day, I told Eren that I was in love with him.

You've never actually commented on this, but I could tell you were itching to say it. I can hear your voice in my head. "Fucking called it," you'd remark with an indifferent shrug. Fine, whatever, go take your victory lap.

Screw it, if you're going to be annoying about it, two can play at this game. This letter is about to get sappy, so deal with it.

I've been thinking a lot about that conversation we had at that picnic table in New York City. In particular, the three types of love you've found in Hanji, Furlan, and Erwin. The love for a best friend who will support you all the way, the love for someone who's on the same wavelength as you, the love for someone who grows you into a better version of yourself. Is it possible to find all three of these qualities in a single person?

Eren's always been there for me, even after I tried to shut him out so many times. I'm so damn lucky that he's never entirely given up on our friendship. He always has a crystal-clear idea of what I'm thinking, of how I'm feeling, just from a single glance in my direction. And he's helped me break down those walls, and he's helped me become a more transparent, more honest communicator of my thoughts.

I love him, Levi. And he feels the same way towards me.

So there you have it. You fucking called it.

Shut up,
Mikasa

P.S. But wake up soon. Please.

Levi,

I'm writing this on our patio, and I'm drinking a Pilsner. It's a shame you can't see this sunset.

I'm losing my edge without our verbal sparring. The other day, Eren trumped me for the first time when we were bickering over something. You keep me on my toes. You keep me sharp.

Wake up, Levi. Why won't you wake up? It hurts to see you languishing away in that hospital bed. You should be sitting right next to me, shitting on my joint rolling technique or telling me stories or teasing me relentlessly. The house should smell like coffee in the mornings, and notes and documents should be spilling off the edges of our dining table. We should be eating junk food for most meals of the week, and you should be kidnapping me from school to embark on reporting adventures. You should be proposing malicious ways of pranking Floch, and I should be reminding you of vandalism laws.

I miss you, okay?

I miss how you test my nerves, and I miss your spot-on intuition about my emotions. I miss how you'd interview me, how you chip away at my defenses and push me to stop cowering away from things. I miss the little things you did for me. How you'd make me eat an extra slice of pizza before I went to parties. How you had us watch Rick and Morty after I had that bad trip. How you left me a glass of water and an aspirin on my nightstand after I drank too much. And how you somehow negotiated an extra plane ticket to NYC when you knew I needed to get out of Evanston. Please know that all these things didn't go unnoticed. I wish I swallowed my pride, and I wish that I thanked you sooner.

Please, Levi. Please wake up.

With love,
Mikasa

A/N: I've had this prepared and ready for a while. Please let me know what you think, and thank you so much for reading. Last chapter is on it's way, goddamn...