August 843
-A little over a year since Levi joined the Survey Corps.-
-Part II-
The sickening crack of Mike's fist breaking jaw bone punctured the air.
The hooded attacker stumbled back from Commander Shadis. The bloody ODM blade fell to the ground with a clatter. Mike grabbed the bastard's collar and swung again.
From the tallest tower of the Survey Corps' Trost headquarters, the bell tolled in a frantic chime to wake all soldiers.
Against the sputtering light of a fallen lamp, Levi glided through the room at striking speed. He yanked his knife from the forehead of the man who, just seconds ago, had been ramming his sword into the stubborn bone of Erwin's forearm. Levi's aim fell to the third black-cloaked figure, which was frantically rushing to the shattered window behind Shadis' desk.
"Don't kill him!" Erwin snapped just in time. Levi's throw faltered. The knife slammed into the assailant's shoulder blade— a mangled cry of paining escaping as they jumped.
"Shit!" Mike hissed as he lunged for the attacker. His hand gripped nothing but air centimeters from the trailing black cloak. Broken glass nicked Mike's arm, summoning little scarlet dots on his skin.
Grapple hooks and wires flew high over Trost rooftops as the assailant took to the air— their silhouette barely visible against the midnight sky.
Commander Shadis' knees buckled. He fell upon the shards that littered the floor; his hand clutched at bloody massacre near the base of his neck. Although Levi had been standing closer to Shadis, it was Erwin who found the solider at his side.
"What the hell happened?" Levi hissed, hastily grabbing the hem of Erwin's button down and tearing the white fabric. If Levi wasn't shirtless, he'd be ruining his own clothes instead. Mike tended to Shadis.
"That'll be answered later," Erwin said, voice low and steady despite the draining color from his face and flowing out of his arm arm. Levi could see Erwin's bone peeking from the mangled flesh. Quickly, Levi reprimanded himself for his queasiness and began to rip strips from the shirt scraps. Erwin's uninjured hand, palm coated in his own blood, settled upon Levi's dirty bruised chest.
"I trust there's at least one medic on night shift," Erwin said briskly as he pushed Levi away. "Go after him, Levi. We need answers."
Levi hesitated.
"You heard the man," Shadis croaked tightly, "Go."
For the first time in the past 12 hours, Mike and Levi exchanged non-hostile glances, with mutual expressions of unease upon both their features.
"It's an order," Shadis snapped. Reluctantly, Mike pulled his hands away from Shadis' massacred collar. Levi needed another shove to his chest before he, too, obeyed.
As Mike rushed to unbuckle and drag the ODM gear off the attacker he knocked unconscious, Levi took a single sword from his victim. He yanked out the wire that connected its hilt to the rest of the gear.
Squinting over his shoulder, Levi could still just make out the attacker half-running, half-swinging over Trost's ochre tiled roofs. He narrowed his eyes at the incepid little flea. It was clear from their clumsy, but familiar, maneuvers that while Levi's stab had significantly hampered their range of motion, their ODM technique was military quality.
Without another thought, Levi rushed to the window. His foot on the windowsill, his hand on the frame when Mike yelled, "What the hell are you doing?" from where he was crouched by the body, not even half way done with the gear buckles.
Just like Levi, Mike was shirtless, covered in various marks of struggle and far more exhausted than he cared to admit.
Levi didn't grace him with an answer. He jumped, knees pressing to his chest.
With a thud and a roll, Levi landed on the neighboring flat roof. The muscle memory of the maniacal chases rooftop chases of his youth sprinted Levi effortlessly along the tiled ridge. Without the bulky weight of the heavy gear at his hips, Levi ran faster than ever before.
Not far behind him, a pursuer surfaced.
Mike's loud steps pounded as he struggled to catch up. Like Levi, he had stolen only a single blade and no other gear. "You're fucking insane, asshole," Mike growled from three buildings away.
Levi sped up, effortlessly vaulting over the minuscule gaps the sloping edges.
"Go babysit the wounded, Zaccharius," Levi retorted, raising his voice just loud about for Mike to hear.
Mike didn't stop; his tired legs continued to graceless tumble and fumble over the ridges and slopes of the city homes. If it hadn't been for the abundance of adrenaline coursing through both men, they would've doubled down from exhaustion back at Shadis' office. Even humanity's strongest needed rest after 12 hours of ceaseless "training."
Levi came to a sudden halt, cursing under his breath. Seconds later, Mike was finally at his side. "Don't forget your rank at times like these, private," Mike snapped, breathing heavily.
Levi's eyes flashed up at him. "Save the insubordination lectures for another time, Squad Leader." Levi turned to the horizon before them: jagged roofs, glowing apartment windows, sleeping towers and looming walls. No little flea in sight. "Because we lost the damned bastard." Levi figured the attacker must've sunk to street level when they noticed Mike and Levi in hot pursuit.
Mike's jaw visibly clenched, but he followed Levi's advice and swallowed his aggravation. Silently, the blond giant tilted his head back, nose twitching in the air.
Levi's expression turned sour. "You're not serious with that crap, are you?"
"What's with that attitude? It saved Shadis' and Erwin's asses just now, so shut up and give me a second."
Levi glowered.
—
Side by side, the two men, with their 40 cm height difference, laid on the training center ground: chests heaving and drooping gazed set on the starry night sky. Not too long before, the temple clock had chimed midnight.
"You swing too low," Levi exhaled, his words coming out in slow, uneven beats.
Mike licked his lips. "You don't squat low enough. Makes your stance weak."
Although he didn't reply, Levi took note of it.
A heavy gust of wind rolled over them. Levi shielded his eyes from the sand.
Suddenly, Mike sat up.
Ignoring the screaming protests of every muscle in his body, Levi did too. "38 out of 39?" he asked grimly. Even now, neither man was satisfied with a tie.
"Wait," Mike said sharply, his posture stiffening. Levi watched Mike's mouth press into a hard line as his gaze set upon the low buildings circumventing the training ground.
"Worn out already?" Levi asked slowly, without true malice. His own gaze flickered briefly to the barracks.
"No...Something's wrong," the taller of the two said.
The wind rustled again. Mike sprang to his feet, eyes widening.
Levi also rose— senses alert.
And then Mike sprinted to the buildings.
"Oi!" Levi snapped, chasing the blond. "What the hell, Zaccharius!"
"I smell blood! The Commander's!"
—-
"Tch. You must have been raised by mutts," Levi muttered under his breath. In hindsight, Levi understood how insulting the words had unintentionally seemed— so having the tip of Mike's blade brush under his chin was at least mildly warranted.
Levi tilted his head back, staring Mike down.
"And you," Mike said slowly, enunciating every syllable, "must've been raised by the lowest of the low."
Levi's eyes flashed.
Without rush, Mike withdrew his sword. "38," Mike accepted, "out of 39." He turned and jumped to the left roof.
In punctured silence, Levi followed Mike's quick, but careful sprint.
The cool night air rapped upon their bare torsos. Neither had time to consider how ridiculous they looked running atop the affluent city's buildings in the middle of the night, clad only in dirty trousers with ODM swords but no gear. Dirt, sweat, bruises and blood littered their exposed skin.
The hound of a Squad Leader proved to be not entirely delusional; Levi was quick to spot the trail of blood splatters upon the slopping tiles.
Mike paused, Levi halted. It was time to descend to the alleys, but— multiple shadows oozed into view around them.
There was just a second for the two men to exchange a glance.
Levi's sword swung up, Mike's sword came down.
Back to back, they easily blocked the surprise attacks— sending the armed brats stumbling back.
Brats.
Levi's eyes widened. He watched as a gangle of decrepit teens with rotting clothes, feeble arms and hollow eyes crowded the roof. All wielded sorry excuses for weapons— hammers, bats, wrenches, rusting knives and broken bottles.
"Idiots," Levi heard Mike exhale sympathetically next to him. If these punks attacked, Levi and Mike's face would be the last ones they ever saw.
Levi's gut twisted. There was a girl not a centimeter taller than Isabel had been. There was boy who had a haircut just like Furlan's.
"Whatever you're being paid," Levi spoke up, twirling his blade in his hand, "It's not worth your life. Tell us where the bastard is and—"
Mike's hand slammed into Levi's shoulder. Levi lost his balance and fell to the side. A grapple hook shot a hair-lengths away from his head, the buzz of the metal ringing in his ear.
Levi caught himself on the ledge of the roof just in time, body swinging over a dingy alley.
Kissing metal clanged loudly as Mike defended his side from the hooded attacker just in time.
The punks descended, swarming like flies to shit.
What a pity.
With a grunt, Levi swung himself to the neighboring roof, weaving his sword clean through the young bodies as he did so. Truly, he did his best to keep the casualties to a minimum- to not cut deep. Those he could simply kick off, he did— but his limbs were shorter than his sword and crimson streaks followed most of his movements. The brats who fled in a panic, Levi didn't pursue. But those who charged to Mike's roof in hopes of taking down the more preoccupied scout were seamlessly smited.
The stench of iron was overwhelming, even more sickening than usual. Levi blamed the humidity.
In less than a minute, only the original players remained: Levi, Mike and the hooded attacker.
Levi watched Mike, now swordless, dodge the frantic grapple hook blasts and sword swings of the short attacker. The knife hilt was still lodged in the hooded back, an outline of darkened blood pooled around it.
The assailant was desperately trying to maintain a distance between themselves and the much bigger officer, but it was already clear to all how the fight was going to end.
Levi jumped to Mike's roof and discarded his own chipped blade. The brittle swords were designed to cut through thin Titan flesh and not the dense bones and sinewy muscle of worn human bodies.
Levi flanked the hooded figure's exposed side, squatting low as he punched. Mike took the opportunity to close the distance, deft high kicks knocking both blades from the attacker's hold. The swords rung as they bounced off stone walls on their way down to the alley floor littered with bodies.
Grapple hooks shot out. Mike dodged only the first one.
Levi dove forward. He caught the speeding wire and yanked. Instead of pummeling clean through Mike's organs, the hook merely grazed his side.
Levi swiveled toward the attacker, ignoring the burning pain in his palm as he wrenched the wire.
The wind blew their hood back.
As Levi jerked the young brunette close, Mike's arm swung over Levi's head to collide with her jaw. Simultaneously, Levi's kick landed on her chest.
Levi grimaced as the metal wrung over the seared flesh of his palm as her body knocked back, falling unconscious to the roof. Mike caught her by the hood just before she dared slide off.
A second of silence.
Another.
"Fucking hell..." Mike exhaled quietly. He dropped the girl over the roof ridge.
Levi fingers unfurled, letting the wire fall from his hand. His gaze didn't linger on the mutilated skin of his palm. What it did linger on, was the blossoming red wound just above Mike's hips.
"Is it deep?" Levi asked, coming closer.
Mike shook his head, his fingers hovering over the cut but not touching it just yet. "No. Just stings like a bitch." He paused and looked at Levi. "Glad that shit didn't go through my entrails… Thanks."
Levi nodded, gaze flickering away. "You did the same for me," he said. A pause. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Mike murmured, "Wasn't planning on letting you die before the rematch."
That did warm Levi's heart. "Don't concern yourself with it. I would've clawed my way out of hell to beat your ass one last time," Levi reassured him.
Mike snorted. Some tension melted from both their figures.
They looked at to unconscious figure between them. With her face exposed, they could see she couldn't have been a day older than 18. Her ODM gear was expertly strapped on.
Levi's slate-grey gaze flickered over her broken nose, bust lip and the gummy gaps where front teeth had been. A sickening feeling knotted within him.
"Recognize her?" Mike asked.
"No," Levi answered truthfully, "But… something about her unfortunately seems familiar."
Mike hummed. "Yeah…I got that impression too."
With a sigh, Levi squatted by the girl, turning her over. His hand lingered at the hilt of his knife in her back. He chose not to pull it out. She was injured enough; the last thing they needed is her bleeding to death before they returned. Instead, he carefully picked up a nearby fragment of what he assumed was Mike's blade and used it to slide through the leather straps at her chest, sides and legs. "Let's disarm her incase she comes to," he said.
"Good idea," Mike conceded quietly and began to pull the gear off her hips.
Mike didn't say anything as he watched Levi take the extra precaution of dragging his knife across the girl's palms, cleanly slicing the tendons. Red trickled out.
Blood, blood, blood. Levi never could escape it, could he? He kept his injured hand balled into a fist. At least that wasn't bleeding, the friction of the speeding wire had left a raw burn.
When Mike began to pull the girl over his shoulders, Levi told him to cut the crap. Mike's "little cut" was now leaking a steady ruby stream. After a moment of hesitation, Mike conceded and let Levi take the girl. With a wince, Mike pressed his dirty hand to his open wound.
"Don't touch it, idiot," Levi said, "You want a damn infection?"
"My skins already filthy. I doubt this is much worse," Mike retorted.
Both men looked grimly back at the Trost Survey Corp barracks. Only now did they realize how far they had traveled.
Lights all around the neighborhood flickered on in response to the cacophony of the tolling alarm bell and the scouts' fight. Civilians peered out of their wind, yelling and cursing about all the noise.
The journey back was going to be a long pain in the ass.
The two of them peered over the edge of their roof. A score of bodies littered the ground. With the yellow light steaming from apartment windows, Mike and Levi better saw the youth in the troubled faces.
"Poor idiots," Mike whispered.
Some were slumped against walls, nursing broken limbs and shaking in fear at the figures which stared them down. Others lay immobile atop of broken crates, warmed by the crimson puddles of their own making.
Blood dripped from the girls nose and arm to Levi's shoulders, rolling down his back and chest. How fucking disgusting.
"The stench must be overwhelming," Levi said flatly.
Mike didn't reply right away. He itched his nose with the back of his bloodless hand. "It always is."
For a moment longer, they stared down at the unfortunate relics of their handiwork.
"You weren't wrong," Mike spoke up, suddenly. Levi raised his brows at him.
"I was raised by mutts," Mike said and gave Levi a weak smile. "Or at least that's what I'm told. My folks said they found me in the woods suckling on some bitch's teet. I was completely feral when they took me in."
For a linger moment, Levi remained silent. Then, he surprised himself by replying, "My mother was a whore." Levi looked ahead, calculating the quickest and safest way to get back to headquarters with two bleeding bastards and no ODM gear. "But she wasn't low. She was...good."
"Ah, I see," Mike hummed quietly. There was nothing else left to say.
Mike hesitated, then jumped to the neighboring roof in the direction of the Trost barracks. Levi saw him fail to conceal a wince. Then, Mike turned around to wait for him.
By the skin of his teeth, Levi managed the jump with the girl on his back. Mike's hand fell to his shoulder to steady him.
One last time, they glanced back down at the alley. "Think we'll ever see any of them in the Survey Corp?" Mike mused drily.
Levi snorted. "Hilarious, Zaccharius."
A/N: no idea how i got here but look! Mike and Levi are pals now!