Furlan awoke from the strangled coughs and breathless heaves coming from the man in the bed at the other end of the room. His chest contorted and let out an uncomfortable twinge by the sound.
Most people in the underground had ended up there during their teen or adult years, either because they had nowhere else to go, or because they had committed a crime that had sentenced them to an eternity below ground.
Either way, once you were there, you were sentenced to a faith below man.
Furlan himself was part of the first category. He'd been underground for a few years now after his parents had been eaten by the titans. Before that, he lived a rather comfortable life in a small village between the mountains. His father was a priest, and he, his two older brothers, and his mother had helped to uphold the church. But once the titans had ravaged their small village, there was nothing, no one, left except him.
His safest bet was to seek refuge underground. That's where he met Levi.
As far as he knew, Levi had lived his whole life down here. How many years that was, Furlan was unsure. In fact, he was pretty sure that Levi didn't know himself. His real age remained a mystery, all though he had expressed that he was somewhere between twenty and twenty-five. He didn't look like it, but Furlan had quickly realized that it was unwise to question anything Levi said. Actually, he found no reason to question it either. He trusted Levi with his life.
Furlan himself was nineteen, or at least, he thought so. Time did not pass as it did up there.
The choked heaves coming from his companion kept him awake most nights, but lately, it seemed to be getting worse. The air down here was contaminated by smoke, sewage, and gasses. Furlan had noticed it himself. Before he left the surface, he never got sick. Now, he would frequently experience periods of excessive coughing and a runny nose. But Levi seemed to be getting worse every day.
Not that he ever acknowledged it, of course.
Anything life above deemed worthy of such lowlives as them was unable to thrive down here. Nothing grew.
No crops, no flowers nor grassy knolls.
No child, or young adult.
How Levi had been able to survive by himself all this time seemed more like a miracle than catching the rare glimpse of the sunset from their special place; beneath the ruins of the cathedral, someone once tried to build. Somehow, they had been allowed to build its towers to range above ground, but it had been easily ruined and shattered by titans.
In the few hours Levi slept at night, he would awake Furlan by his excessive coughing, and the feverish gleam to his skin had gotten too prominent to ignore now. Physical tasks would leave him breathless and fatigued, and as much as he tried to hide it, Furlan recognized the tell-tale limp he'd adopted these past couple of months. Levi was in a bad shape, but the stubborn man refused to acknowledge it.
In many ways, Furlan refused to acknowledge it too.
Because Levi was supposed to be his safety.
He was strong and reliable, and whatever Levi said, went.
And Furlan had yet to experience Levi being wrong.
Except for when he claimed that he was fine.
Because Levi was sick.
And that made Furlan worried and scared and confused because Levi was breaking and as long as everyone above ground was held at a higher regard than them and their lives underground, it would continue to be that way.
All of a sudden, Levi heaved for air and shot up into a seated position in bed. Furlan startled and tossed his body off his own cot, scrambling across the floor towards Levi. The noirette tried to stifle his grating chokes, one hand bundled in his shirt and the other held out, keeping Furlan at a distance.
"Go back to bed," he croaked breathlessly between hacks. "I'm fine."
"Shut up," Furlan said between clenched teeth and disappeared out of the room. He could hear Levi's raucous coughs all the way out in the living room and their small kitchenette. Isabel had also woken up by the commotion and was sitting up on the couch, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes while Furlan grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the bucket they used to fill up every night.
"Is Aniki okay?" Isabel asked half-dazed. She'd been living with them for a little over a week now. This was possibly the first time she had noticed Levi's declining health. He was good at keeping it to himself, usually being away doing who-knows-what during the daytime, and seldom sleeping at night.
"Yeah, he's probably just coming down with something," Furlan muttered non-committedly. There was no need to worry her. She peered at him with half-lidded eyes, before nodding, then turning her attention to the sparrow nested inside a box on the living room table.
"That's not good. I hope he feels better soon," she drawled silently. "At least Grayson seems to be getting better."
Furlan paused on his way back into the bedroom. "Did you name it?"
"Yeah," she smiled. "Why not?"
Furlan shrugged. "I don't know. I just think of it as the bird."
The redhead grinned brightly back at him. "I just think he needs the confidence. I think names helps with that, you know? Everyone likes to hear their name called. You wouldn't thrive being just the boy, right?"
"I've never thought of it like that," Furlan returned lightly, pausing right outside the door of the bedroom, noticing that Isabel seemed slightly dissatisfied by his answer. "Grayson is a good name for it though," he hurriedly added. He waited to see her brighten before he returned to Levi. The coughing fit seemed to have eased a little by then, but his breath still seemed raspy and strained.
"Drink," Furlan requested- demanded. Levi seemed to be out of breath and looked paler than he usually did. He accepted the glass without argument and drank about half the liquid before the next cough caused him to choke on the water.
"Easy," Furlan prompted carefully.
"Fuck off," Levi retorted irritated under his labored gasps, and pushed the glass back into the ash-blonde's hands. "I'm fine."
He laid back down and turned his back against Furlan, tucking his blanket tightly over almost unnoticeable trembling shoulders.
"I'll just leave this here," Furlan muttered solemnly, leaving the glass on the floor beside Levi's bed.
"I can get my own water," Levi croaked back, voice breaking in the middle of his sentence, leaving him close to mute.
"Doesn't matter. I already brought you some."
Furlan got up and scampered back to his own bed, swaddling into his covers to escape the frosted air. Minutes went by with him merely listening to Levi's wheezing breaths before the dim lights made his eyelids feel heavy. Eventually, he fell into a light, superficial sleep.
When Furlan woke back up, Levi was gone. Something shuffled outside in the living room, and for a moment, he hoped that Levi had come to his senses and decided to stay home and rest. No such luck, however.
Well actually, it was probably a good thing that he wasn't there to witness the distressing state of their kitchen. Isabel had spilled flour all over the counter and spread random splatters of batter everywhere; cupboards, floor, walls.
A stack of pancakes was resting on a plate by the small stove, while the culprit was stuffing her face full seated at their dining table, occasionally wiping jam off her cheeks with her sleeve.
"Mornin'," she garbled between bites, smiling brightly. Furlan paused in the archway, assessing the chaos distastefully.
"You do realize that Levi will kill you if the kitchen isn't spotless when he gets home, right?"
"He's out?" she asked obliviously, swallowing down her bite. "Must 'ave gone pretty early. I didn't hear a thing."
"Of course not. No one would with how loud you're snoring," Furlan muttered with a slight smirk, making his way towards the pancakes.
"Hey," Isabel squawked angrily. "I don't snore!"
"Sure you don't," he teased while he helped himself to the meal.
"Shut your mouth or I'll withdraw your jam privileges." She quickly grabbed the half-full jar and protected it within her wingspan.
"You can't deny me food I own."
"I bought it."
"With Levi's money. So, only Levi can deny me the jam."
"None of you brats will get any damn jam if you don't shut up." The teens' attention was drawn to the door where Levi slanted in. He looked horrible with a bright blush across his cheeks, contrasting sharply to the black circles underneath his eyes and the unhealthy sheen to his pallor.
Furlan knew better than to say anything. There was nothing he could tell Levi to make him listen anyway.
"Levi, you're home early," he said instead, trying his best to smile. Levi clicked his tongue, ignoring the younger man in favor of the littered kitchen. Furlan saw Isabel tense in his side-vision, anticipating Levi's judgment with horror.
"I'm gonna get cleaned up," he muttered hoarsely, slowly making his way for the bathroom. His limp seemed more prominent today and Furlan reckoned he must have overexerted himself. "Clean up this mess after you're done eating." He smacked the door closed.
Isabel let out a relieved sigh. "He must be in a good mood," she grinned obliviously. Furlan shot her a deadpan glare.
"That's what you got from that exchange?"
"Yeah? He didn't get mad or nothing." She lapped her plate for residue jam with her final pancake and crammed a large bite into her gap.
"Yes, because he's exhausted," Furlan retorted silently. Isabel's emerald eyes widened owlishly while he continued, "He's sick, doesn't sleep, and works inhumane hours to take care of us. Of course, he doesn't have the energy to get angry."
"But, we can help!" the redhead insisted urgently, struggling to swallow the doughy bite. "We can make money too! Then we'll have like… double the amount or something, right? And he won't have to work so hard!"
"You can't even keep the kitchen clean when you cook," Furlan smirked.
"I was gunna clean that up," she pouted, looking over at her mess shamefully.
Furlan sighed. "I know. And I help him out sometimes and you can do that too. It's just… the work down here is dangerous, Izzy. And Levi… is more cut out for that kind of-"
A noise, sounding like a bucket falling to the floor came from the bathroom. Furlan was up before the sound had even died down, rushing to the door with Isabel immediately at his heels. Flinging the door open, he found Levi kneeled at the floor, fighting to control his wheezed breaths while being ravaged by deep, hollow coughs. The bucket of water they used to fill the tub had been knocked over, cool water flooding the ground underneath Levi's shivering body.
"Levi, what happened?" Furlan demanded, hovering above the struggling raven. Levi shoved the younger man away with one arm while coughing into the other.
"Out," he managed to huff. The two teens backed away a few steps, but Furlan made sure to block Levi's attempts of shutting the door. Patiently, they waited as Levi's fit drew out. After several minutes, Levi's head started lolling back and forth, and he peered disorientedly around the room. One look up towards Furlan and Isabel's worried expressions sent the room spinning. Steel grey eyes rolled back and he finally slumped over onto the soaked floor, motionless.
"Aniki?" Isabel called carefully. Furlan cursed under his breath and bowed down, quickly scooping Levi's lifeless body off the ground and carried him to their shared bedroom.
The small man was frightfully light despite his considerable muscle mass. Furlan knew instantly that he hadn't been eating. He laid Levi onto his cot and started unbuttoning his soaked shirt.
"Hey, Izzy," he called. The girl stood restlessly in the doorway. "Can you get Levi a sleeping attire?" She gave a curt nod and began rummaging through the small dresser that held all of the boys' clothes. Furlan continued undressing Levi, tugging his sleeves off before he paused.
"What's this?" he asked silently, mostly to himself, and held out the arm of the white shirt.
"What's what?" Izzy chimed in, coming to catch a glance at whatever Furlan was watching so intently.
Several different sized drops of crimson dotted the middle of the sleeve.
"Is that blood?" she asked alarmed, and Furlan nodded.
"Yeah."
"W-what does that mean? Is he hurt anywhere?" The girl grabbed Levi's arm and searched desperately for a wound, praying she would find one. The only thing she could find was a collection of new and old scars. None that bled.
"Isabel," Furlan spoke gravely. "There's no use. It's because of the air down here. It's bad. It makes people sick."
The short redhead glared back at him. "I'm not sick! And you're not either," she argued angrily. "Why does Aniki have to be sick?"
Furlan merely shook his head. "Did you get his clothes?" he asked instead, reaching his hand out expectantly. Isabel grimaced and tossed the garments at him, before marching out of the room. After a few seconds, he could hear the front door being opened and shut.
He hoped she would keep out of trouble.
The next few hours went by with Levi unconscious and Furlan doing what he could to lower his rising temperature. A soaked towel rested on Levi's forehead, while Furlan kept dabbing off perspiration with another.
He felt terrible while he switched Levi's blanket out with a different thinner one. Levi's teeth had been clattering before, but any added heat would only help his fever get even higher. Jarring coughs and raspy, painful breaths filled the air between them.
Once or twice, Levi's eyes would flutter open and watch him for a few moments, before slowly falling shut again. Furlan couldn't be sure if he was awake or not; if he knew what was going on, but it was reassuring nevertheless.
Only when the daylight started to fade out, did he hear the door open again. A worry in his chest that he didn't know he was holding, ebbed out at the sound. He turned to greet her when the door behind him was opened and was startled when it wasn't the feisty girl that came in.
A young child, no more than six or seven stood and watched them curiously. His chopped brown locks were falling slightly beneath large, clear green eyes.
"Eren," a male voice called from the living room, and a spectacled man came stumbling after the boy, quickly grabbing his hand. "I told you to wait." The man straightened with a small apologetic smile tugging at his lips. "I'm so sorry for that."
Furlan hurried to adjust his seat protectively over Levi. Before he could respond to the stranger in their bedroom, Isabel came dashing in after them.
"I found a doctor!" she beamed proudly. "And not an underground doctor! A real one! From above!" She pointed towards the tall man as if he wasn't standing right in front of them.
"W-what?" Furlan stammered in surprise.
"A doctor! He has medicine, so he can help Aniki!" She leaped over to Furlan to check on Levi, clearly disappointed when she realized that he was not awake to witness her victory.
"You can't just drag a total stranger in here," Furlan growled lowly at her. "We have no idea who this man is!"
"Nonsense. He even has a kid with him," she reasoned easily. "I met him as he walked out of a house about fifteen minutes away from here. He's been accepting patience in the underground for the past month."
Furlan glared skeptically at the man who stood, resting his hands on the boy's shoulders.
"He has even seen Mr. Michael, and says he's been doing better." Furlan's expression softened a little by the thought of the middle-aged man that tended at their favorite pub. He had been absent for the past couple of months due to his declining health. Hesitatingly, he got up and approached the tall doctor and reached his hand out to introduce himself.
"Furlan Church," he muttered, still not entirely sure about this being a good idea. But, if there was any chance that this man could help Levi, he was willing to take it, albeit under close watch.
"Doctor Grisha Jäger," he introduced himself, before placing his hand on the child's head. "Your turn," he instructed.
"Eren Jäger," the child said, squeezing Furlan's hand weakly.
"Isabel, maybe you can entertain my son for a little while in the living room while I examine the patient," Grisha suggested pleasantly. Isabel smiled at the child and waved him energetically to come with her.
Furlan and Grisha watched them go before the older man moved closer to the bed.
"Levi, was it?" he asked Furlan, getting seated on the chair that Furlan had pulled up to the bed earlier.
"Yeah."
The doctor leaned down to listen to Levi's breathing for a moment, before opening his leather suitcase and pulled out a stethoscope. Furlan looked on as the doctor conducted his tests; listening, prodding, measuring, watching.
"How long has he had this cough?" Dr. Jäger asked severely, pulling off his glasses.
"As long as I've known him. So, at least three, maybe four years. But it's been gradually getting worse the whole time."
"How about the fever?"
Furlan shook his head. "I can't know for sure. Levi hasn't said anything. But it became noticeable about a week ago.
Grisha nodded thoughtfully.
"He was coughing blood today," Furlan added. "Just before he passed out. I don't know if it has happened before either, but it's probably important."
"Thank you, it is." The doctor brought out a thick hypodermic needle that made Furlan cringe. "I will extract some blood for a few tests, but I'm giving him a shot of antibiotics as well. It might have started as a respiratory infection, but considering the amount of fluid in his lungs and the fact that he's been coughing up blood, it's more than likely evolved into a serious case of pneumonia. Unfortunately, it's quite common down here."
Furlan shifted nervously while he watched the needle fill up with blood.
"How old is he?" Grisha asked suddenly.
"I'm not sure about that either," Furlan apologized. "Mid twenties, probably. I don't think he knows himself."
"Not younger?"
"No," Furlan said, finally sure about something. "He's definitely in his twenties."
The doctor hummed earnestly. "Well, he's still a lot younger than most of the people whose lungs have progressed to this weak state. How about his legs? Do you know if he has any pains? Is he prone to breaking bones?"
The uneasy feeling that was growing in the pit of the blonde's abdomen spiked violently. "He's been limping lately. And he had really bad swelling on his knuckles after a fight a few months ago. It looked like something was broken to me, but Levi refused to acknowledge it."
Carefully, Dr. Jäger lifted Levi's right hand and watched it attentively, before he moved on to the left one. He proceeded to push the blanket off Levi's legs and repeated the assessment.
"How did you know?" Furlan finally asked carefully, slowly moving closer.
"How did I know what?"
"About the leg, or bones, or whatever. Does it have anything to do with the other infection?"
"No, not exactly," the doctor drawled. "But these issues are mainly the ones I've had to deal with after I decided to treat patients down here. There are hundreds, if not thousands of similar cases and my waiting list is quite long. The reason young Isabel managed to pique my interest enough to get me here, however, was Levi's young age. People who've spent their whole lives underground might start to show signs of weak bones and decreased lung capacity in their thirties. Levi however, shows signs that I wouldn't expect to see on someone younger than fifty."
"What does that mean?" Furlan demanded urgently.
"It means that Levi has a compromised immune system. And considering his small stature, I would guess that it stems from severe malnourishment during his childhood. That could have stunted his growth, but also leave him with a weak immune system."
"People don't usually live to their sixties down here," Furlan uttered gravely. The doctor nodded.
"They don't. But, Levi is still stronger than most of my patients in the same progression of the disease he's currently in. For most of my cases similar to this, all I can do is offer pain relief, and maybe push the inevitable back for a few months. But, if we start treatment quickly, I'm confident Levi can beat this."