You're panting hard and everything aches. Exhaustion and rage are coursing through you simultaneously, filling you with a kind of dizzying nausea as you scramble onto your hands and knees. Your fingers are caked with mud dampened by this morning's rainfall. Tears are shining in your eyes but you'll be damned if you let them fall.
"Had enough, thug?" Floch's boot lands on your upper back, pushing you back down into the dirt. Mud sticks to your face as you squirm beneath the weight.
"Get the fuck off me," you growl, turning your head so the mud doesn't slide into your mouth. However the boot on your back only digs in harder. The boot's pressure on your spine increases and you emit a tiny cry. You won't give him the satisfaction of vocalizing the pain that is swirling around your back muscles and kneecaps.
"Such an uncouth way with words," your "comrade" sneers, leaning down to grab your hair. "But then what can we expect from Underground trash like you?"
You growl into the ground. "Piss off," you mumble.
Around you, Floch's friends laugh and when you turn your head, you can read the satisfaction on their faces from seeing you like this. None of them have made their disdain for your recruitment a secret. Learning that Commander Erwin had you brought from the Underground and enlisted in the Scouts without military training all because you were skilled with ODM gear. Stolen ODM gear, as your "comrades" liked to remind you. It doesn't matter that you used it to steal off greedy merchants so you and your friends could stay alive. As Captain Levi's "successor" in the Underground, that just made you a thug. It wasn't even an issue for them that Levi had the same past - no, he was just extraordinary and had proved himself to be humanity's strongest. He was the exception to all of their prejudice.
You received it all instead, in spades especially since you had been assigned straight to Squad Levi. Snide comments, jeers in the mess hall, "accidental" bumps and ruining of your cleaning efforts, whispers and stares and laughter at whatever you were doing, no matter how mundane. Even this training session was just another excuse to (this time literally) grind you into the ground. Those same few faces - maybe more if they could scaremonger other cadets about the new "thug" in the Scouts. Even though many other scouts didn't join in on the worst of the behaviour, you knew many of them were wary of you. You had your own room because no one had volunteered to have you as a roommate. Any invitations to join people at their tables felt forced or half-hearted. Beyond training or duties, you spent a lot of time alone.
He yanks your hair and stomps down on your back. Your curse is swallowed up by the ground. "You know what they say, L/N? Karma's a bitch and this is just some payback for all the people you hurt down in that cesspool."
You clench your fists, nails digging deep into the mud. You don't bother to argue that anyone you hurt either deserved it or had been injured by accident. You were a thief, yes, and a criminal certainly, but you weren't the kind of low life that hurt people just for kicks. Not like this bastard on top of you. But he doesn't care about that. No, he has to see you a certain way and that's that.
Another chorus of laughter surrounds you, quiet because Captain Levi is weaving between the pairs, criticizing people's sparring. It's a joint practice between Levi Squad and Marlene's new recruits therefore it had ruined your hopes for a good training session since it meant interacting with Floch.
In your mind, though, the laughter of his friends grows louder. Your cheeks are burning with shame and rage. For six weeks, these assholes have poked at you, tested every crevice of your patience, pulled at every ounce of your endurance, filled your head with echoes of the worst things you used to hear about yourself in the Underground. Now Floch is literally grinding you into the dirt.
One tear slides down your face, falling into the mud and the hatred boils out of you.
"People like you are disgusting," Floch spits, his foot loosening its hold. "You simply can't comprehend what it means to be decent can you? All the playacting at being civilized won't change the fact that you're just going to to end up as titan fodder….and so you should be."
… and so you should be.
… and so you should be.
… and so you should be.
… and so you should be.
Something breaks. A cord within you that's been overstretched and fraying for a while finally snaps. You feel a rush as all restraint flees your body at once. Your arm lunges backwards, fingers grasping Floch's ankle. You jerk it to the side and the pressure disappears. The pain in your back ceases but only for a moment. Floch curses and the impact of his body on yours, knocks your face into the ground again. However adrenaline takes over and you shove his uncoordinated weight off your back, over to your left side. You roll to the right, clambering onto your hands and feet in a low crouch. Muddy strands of hair hang in your face.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you sense nearby movements, stopping. You can feel the eyes of his friends on you but you don't care. You expect them to move in on you. However, you know that they have their own sparring to get back to. Besides, don't they trust Floch to handle it himself?
Not that you'll let him.
Heat and vengeance have filled up your insides, turning your veins into rivers of wrath, your heart the raging waterfall stirring them up. You're moving on instinct now, the same kind that kept you alive and running the gang in the Underground. An animalistic growl rips out of you as you rise up in a second. Your foot swings out, smacking into Floch's side. Red colours your vision and satisfaction blasts through you. Not enough, your baser instinct warns. Teach him a lesson. You bring your foot back into his side in an even harder kick as the rage pours out of you. Over and over, each one pumping a feeling of power into you, and control over the situation.
You don't plan on ceding that anytime soon.
"Titan fodder, huh?" you snarl as you kick him over and over. "What does that make you then? Jumped up little bastard," you seethe. You stomp on his thigh, perilously close to his family jewels and his cry of pain is a delightful noise, one that you crave to hear again.
"Always better than low life scum," Floch grits out between cries of pain, trying to shuffle away from you and drag himself into a sitting position, "like you." That time you do kick him in the balls and follow it up with another before he can even catch his breath.
With each blow you land on him, rather than being sated, your bloodlust only rises. Your mind cascades back through every encounter you've had with this jackass, every time he's made you feel exactly how he wanted you to, like a second rate citizen. Even as you kick and stomp on him, you don't care what anyone else is seeing. This cretin needs to be punished. You're done taking his shit. Gone are military protocols and the practice of giving your opponent a breather. No, you want him to hurt.
He's curling in on himself and reaches up to catch your next kick. He tries to replicate your move from earlier. You wobble but you lean forwards instead so that, as you fall on him, you catch yourself on the ground, legs straddling his thighs. A regrettable position to be in but one that allows you the freedom of both of your arms.
"You're pretty quick to pin me down," Floch sneers. "You pissed off because you're really just a disgusting pervert? Wouldn't surp-AGH!" Your fist connects with his face, cutting him off and filling your blood with renewed enthusiasm.
That felt so good.
So you hit him again, and again. Your heart is pounding loud in your ears and the rest of the world disappears in a kind of scarlet mist.
"As if I'd sully myself-" you begin to say.
"Sully?" Floch spits with a mouthful of blood. "There's nothing lower than you, bitch."
Another hit. Or at least, it would have been if it had landed.
"Get your filthy hands off him, thug!"
Several sets of hands haul you off Floch and throw you onto your back. The impact rattles your whole body and makes you choke. You can see two of his friends looming above you while, behind them, the third, a boy with tousled brown hair and skinny limbs reaches down to pull Floch to his feet.
You don't get too long to notice this as it's your turn to be kicked in the sides, both at once. The pain is muted somewhat by the fury pelting through your body.
"You okay?" The one on your right, a girl with a dirty blonde plait, calls over to Floch. She jumps back as you kick out at her. "Wow, you're just a brute, aren't ya?"
She brings her fist down in a punch. It would have pounded on your stomach had you not rolled to the left, right on top of the boy to your left's boots, preventing him from the kick he was moving towards making. He grunts and tries to push you off but you shove your body weight against his knees, forcing him to topple over you, towards the girl who steps back from him while you roll onto your knees. His long blond hair is spattered with mud which you enjoy seeing.
Unfortunately you're now facing away from Floch and he takes advantage. As you turn, his punch throws you backwards, his knuckles smashing your jaw en route. Although you stumble back, you manage to stop yourself from falling. Blood drips from the corner of your mouth as you lift your gaze to him.
Several pairs have stopped sparring, staring at the spectacle that five of you are now involved in. If you hadn't been consumed with temper, you would have noted the red flag that it was. As it was, the fact that you now have an audience is irrelevant.
"I've got this," Floch holds his arm back to stop his friends wading in again. With the blood seeping from his mouth and nose, his speech is coming out more clumsily.
"You've got nothing," you growl as you wipe away the blood at your mouth.
Floch charges towards you and you lower yourself into a defensive crouch. As his fist flies at you, you dodge and move in, swinging an uppercut into his chin. The victory is brief. As he groans, his knee flies up, smashing into your ribs, drawing a grunt from you. "You're pathetic," he spits. "Being a savage is all you know isn't it? It'd be pitiful if it wasn't so annoying." His fist collides with your side, sending you stumbling into the middle of his circle of friends.
Still wrapped up in your haze, your snarl comes out winded from the agony of the hit on your ribs. "I'm the savage?" You choke. "You're so Neanderthal, you belong in that zoo in Mitras."
Suddenly there's a knock in your back and you're toppling forward, your face meeting Floch's bloody fist. You feel a tooth fall out and so you spit the blood at him. His fist flattens out and in a second, he backhands you, making you topple sideways.
"I can take care of it from here," Floch admonishes whichever one of his friends stepped in.
"Couldn't resist," the girl chuckles behind you, "it's fun educating her."
"The only thing you're educating me on," you spit out some more blood, "is how poorly you fight."
"Says the one Floch is beating to a pulp," the brown-haired boy smirks.
"Even morons like you get lucky shots," you fire back, straightening up and raising your fists.
"Morons?" Floch scoffed. "That's rich coming from someone like you." He takes a swing, following it up with another.
You sidestep them both and deliver a roundhouse kick to his stomach, delighting in winding him. You leap into the air, your feet pushing into his chest until he staggers back into the other two guys. Somewhere in the distance, you think you might have heard someone call out but you pay it no mind.
"You picking fights with me is exactly why you're morons," you tell them, maneuvering so that none of the gang are behind you anymore. "Quick enough to talk shit but you take me on anyway?" Your voice is growing louder (or maybe everyone else is getting quieter) as you temper soars.
"Well?" you challenge when Floch and his pals exchange bemused looks. "Come on!" You rage. "You wanted to see the thug? HERE SHE FUCKING IS!"
Floch charges again and this time you aim your next kick at his legs, swiping them to the side so he crashes to the ground. You stomp at his stomach but he rolls aside.
You aim a kick at his back. Your leg swings, only to miss as two arms lock around you, yanking you back before your foot can connect. Floch and his friends' faces turn ashen at once. "Get your fucking hands off me!" You roar, too swept up in your haze to care who's restraining you at this point. "That bastard's had this coming!"
"Calm the fuck down, soldier."
Captain Levi's voice brushing against your ear is as cold as steel, a balm against the heat being pumped through your blood. Recognition begins to penetrate the fog of your temper. Not enough to fully calm down though. You thrash in the grip that has you pinned but you can't budge.
Levi stares over at your opponents. "On your feet, cadets," he snaps.
Floch is scrambling to his feet. "Captain Levi!" he panted. "Did you see the way Y/N was fighting me? She was like a demon. She's practically possessed, sir."
You make a renewed effort to break out of the Captain's grasp but he just tightens his hold on you. "Don't bother," he growls. You release a low growl of your own, "You keep fighting me and you're going to be on mess hall duty for the next four weeks."
The threat does nothing to deter you from struggling against him. The heat in your blood spurs you on. You can't stay still.
"She was deranged." Floch's female friend joins in, with a shaky voice. "She could have killed him. What she was doing was not sparring. Look at her - she's like a beast."
"Tch. Save your breath. I saw plenty for myself, Brooks." Levi's tone is blunt as he scowls at the younger cadet. "None of you were remotely sparring properly. It was like watching a bunch of street brawlers." He paused to release a small scoff. "I don't recall telling you to practice four on one either."
Seeing the rapidly rising discomfort on Floch and his friends' faces goes a small way towards loosening the edge of your anger. You squirm a little less in Levi's arms. He's not even breaking a sweat, holding you back. You watch the unease in their eyes travel to their lips and Floch steps forward, a placating hand raised.
"I'm sorry sir. It didn't start out like that. They were trying to help me. As Clara said, Y/N's attacks were unnecessarily vicious. I thought she might be trying to kill me."
Fury wells up inside you again. "Pathetic ratbastard!" you snarl, renewing your struggle in Levi's grip. "Why would I deprive the titans of that pleasure?"
"Stop!" Levi barks down your ear, pulling you so hard against him you can feel the muscles of his abs against your back. This time there's no room for any wriggling.
"Did I ask to hear your excuses?" Levi fires the question at Floch. "Are you that feeble, you can't even fight off your own comrade? You're going to be facing far worse beyond these walls. If you can't handle this without pissing yourself then maybe you should transfer the hell out of here. Do you think I give a titan's ass about what you assumed was happening? When I give you an order, it's not optional."
Floch flinches as though the captain has just slapped him. He looks a mess: blood dripping down his nose and lips. His red hair is almost completely caked in mud.
"Captain," another voice joins the conversation. You turn your head and see that Jean has stepped up next to Levi. "I witnessed some of it earlier. Floch had Y/N pinned for an unnecessary amount of time. I was on the verge of stepping in when she finally fought him off."
You blink over at Jean. It's not so much a surprise that he'd be decent enough to speak up for you but you can't deny that knowing he was going to step in cools off some of your rage. This time, you go fully still in Levi's arms but his grip doesn't loosen.
Levi sighs irritably but before he speaks, Floch speaks up.
"Don't bullshit me with that, Kirschtein. I was utilizing military training. I wasn't going for her throat like a lunatic."
"Oh piss off, Floch. You've had it out for her since she got here." Jean growls, stepping up towards Floch. He stands over him by at least a few inches and Floch stiffens. "You and your pathetic tag alongs. Meanwhile the rest of us grew out of those gang tactics in school."
Floch squared his shoulders and straightened up. "Calm down. Don't be dramatic. It's called banter. Anyway you've got to have a thick skin to serve in the military."
"You must have a thick skull if you think that anyone's gonna buy that. You haven't been discreet about your shit." Jean retorted.
Floch shrugged his shoulders hard. "'I'm allowed my opinions, Jean. Why don't you fuck off and stay out of it?"
"Same reason you can't seem to leave Y/N alone? I don't fucking want to."
"Don't make it sound like that. I might just be sick."
Watching the argument spilling out, the anger seeps from you, gradually being replaced with fatigue. Your chest pushes against Levi's arm You can feel pain beginning to flare up around your body now that the adrenaline rush is wearing away. All of Floch's hits seem to be finally registering. You feel yourself sagging against your captain for a moment as a headache begins to grow.
You can feel Levi taking in an exaggerated breath behind you. "These fucking brats," he growls. You feel his head turning back to you. "You calm yet?" he murmurs in your ear. You nod and his arms loosen up gradually, as though he expects you to suddenly try and leap on Floch again. Once he lets you go, you stay still.
Jean and Floch's argument continues but their speech sounds muffled to you. You bring a hand to the middle of your forehead and begin to rub.
"Stop that," Levi's voice cuts through to haze of voices. He's grimacing at your hand. "You're filthy."
You look down at yourself. Your uniform is so patchy with mud that you can barely see the original colours beneath it. Your hands are covered in mud and blood. Knowing that some of it is Floch's stirs you up again and you finally look back over to where Jean and him are arguing.
"Enough!" Levi's limit with the arguing cadets has been reached. He points to Floch and then to you. "There's no place for this kind of bullshit here. If you can't be fucking grown up about your issues then you don't belong in the Scouts. The titans don't give a shit about where you come from. They'll chomp on you just the same."
You don't belong in the Scouts. Levi's words linger in your mind, aligning unpleasantly well with all of Floch's jibes.
Levi fixes you both with an individual scowl. "You can grow up together: cleaning the basement," he lifts a pale hand, raising a finger for each activity, "cleaning the kitchen, cleaning my office and Erwin's. For the next three weeks." You suck in a breath. Levi's standards of cleanliness for his office are thrice as high as they are for everywhere else. Behind Levi, you see that Floch's jaw is locked tight, presumably from gritting his teeth. "Gonna argue?" he challenges, eyes glinting like blades as he looks between you both.
"No," you say.
"No sir," Floch says at the same time.
"Get back to sparring. Kirschtein, you partner with Y/N for the rest of the session." Levi commands Jean. "Forster, you'll spar with Blaus." He steps back from you all but remains facing you, arms folded like he doesn't want to leave you unsupervised. You suppose you can't blame him. "Now get to it."
"Sir!" Jean nod and approaches you. You smile a little, grateful for the reprieve.
Meanwhile Floch flashes you a dirty look. "What's the matter with you?" the words leave his mouth in a sneer that's twitching into a smirk. "Will it burn you up inside to show a bit of damn respect? Or will that vile tongue turn to ashes if you call him sir?"
"Shut it, Floch." Jean snarls.
"Like I'm going to take respect from the likes of you." You bite back at Floch.
"Likes of me, huh? Seems she's getting confused again, Clara," Floch smirks as he begins to make his way over to Sasha who's watching the scene curiously and… is she chewing? "She still doesn't seem to realize she needs remedial lessons in everything."
And just like that, your rage returns. Your cheeks burn and your fists clench. Your hands are shaking as everything swirls around in your head again.
"Oi!" The captain calls over to you both. "Cut the bitching and get back to work."
"And you're oh so charming are you?" you can't resist spitting out as Floch passes you. "What part of charm school was that little beauty from?"
His lips quirk. "None of it. I'm not going to waste any wit on a piece of trash like you."
"Y/N-" Jean begins to say just as you lunge at Floch.
Your leap tackles him onto the ground, on his side. Your fists get to work as the hurt courses through you.
Not good enough. Piece of trash. Remedial. Someone like you. Brute. Savage. Scum. Thug. Deranged. Demonic. It comes flying back to you in startling technicolour; the build up of the mockery, the "accidents", the judgment, the fear and the looks you'd thought you'd escaped when you left the Underground. With each reminder, the weight of it all falls even heavier. You're never going to escape being seen that way. Maybe you should have just gone to prison and been shoved back into the Underground. Maybe that would be kinder than being up here, constantly trying to prove yourself, to make yourself worthy of living here.
It's all so goddamn tiring.
You're crying with every hit, even as the anger continues to blaze through you.
"For fuck's sake!" Levi growls as he and Jean grab you by the arms and pull you off the heavily bleeding Floch. You're flung behind them both and your captain is whirling on you, his eyes glinting under the sunlight. "You're fucking done for the day! Get to my office now! I'll deal with you there."
Jean runs a hand through his hair. "Why did you do that, Y/N? You played right into his hands."
Deal with you. Played right into his hands.
You step back, disbelief filling your face. "Seriously? I'm the problem?" As you say the words, a harsh laugh escapes your lips and the truth settles over you. Of course you are. You're the Underground kid who's expected to know better while others can stare and fear and mock and hate. How could you let yourself believe it would be any other way. You'll always be the problem.
Shaking your head, you take another step back and then another. "No," you manage to get out as everything topples on top of you, like a broken shelf letting all its contents crash to the floor. "No, fuck this. I'm… no… I'm out. Fuck this."
Jean's face contorts. "Y/N, that's not what I meant-"
In a second, you're running, not towards the castle but the comforting shadows of the trees. You ignore Jean's calls as you disappear into the woods.
Adrenaline bursts through you one more time as you race to get away. Far from anyone who dares to expect too much from you, from anyone who will never accept what you can be and from anyone who wouldn't give a shit either way. The trees blur by as you run in no particular direction.
You just have to keep going.
It's sunset when your legs finally give out. You crumple to your knees at the foot of a tree and sag your exhausted weight against the trunk. The canopy of tree tops shields most of the light from you but as you stare upwards, you can still see some of the orange-gold hues fall in those thin streams of light around you.
How far you've run or where you've ended up, these aren't things you know. The cool shade of the forest is welcome against your hot, flushed skin. Silence wraps you in its embrace and you close your eyes as you catch your breath.
That's it now. You can't go back. You'd only get hauled into Levi's office, physically this time. Erwin would probably kick you out of the Scouts once word spreads about your violence today. You broke today and now you've given them all a reason to buy into Floch's shit. Guess you weren't strong enough after all.
Tears trickle down your face as you begin to sob. You really wanted to stay up here, for however long it lasted when you were enlisted into the regiment with the highest death count. You could handle military life for the price of being able to live in the sun. Now that was going to change. Either you would be hauled to jail or sent back to the Underground. The only other possible option would be to run away but where could you go? You bring your aching knees up to your chest and lay your head on your kneecaps. If only you had your ODM gear, you could have gotten further. Your shoulders shake slightly, hindered by your own exhaustion.
Your eyelids feel so heavy and, honestly, you're done fighting for today. You slump to the side as the weight of this afternoon finally crushes you.
Everything's much colder and darker when you wake up. Your eyes struggle to adjust in the darkness at first but the thin beams of moonlight around you, give a minimal sense of your surroundings. You push yourself back into a sitting position and brush your hand over your face, attempting to wake yourself up some more. Your chest feels empty, dried up of the emotions that consumed you earlier, with just enough traces left to remind you of it all. Your body aches all over and you release a half grumble, half groan as you move. All the adrenaline from earlier softened the blows considerably. Now it feels like you're surrounded by people punching you all over your body.
Breathe through the pain.
Pain isn't something unfamiliar to you and you've been in worse pain than this. But on top of your emotional state, it hits heavier than normal. Still, the steadying rhythm of your breathing helps a touch.
You can't stay here, you know that. You'll have to get moving and figure out where you are and where to go from here. You'll need to find food and the river. You'll have to stay close to it. You're not sure what you'd do in the winter. Maybe you could hide out in farmer's barn or something. Maybe you could help out in exchange for board. People living remote like that might not ask too many questions. There was that village that was emptied of its people except for that one titan that's stuck. You could go there and hide in one of the buildings. No, maybe not. The Scouts might keep visiting there.
You're so focused on your thoughts that you don't hear the whoosh of cables flying nor the sound of a pair of thuds as grappling hooks connect to a trunk. You don't pay attention enough to spot the figure soaring towards you, recalling their hooks once they reach the clearing and dropping down into the moonlit space before you. You don't notice any of this until you hear them speak.
"Oi, brat." Levi grumbles. "Your awareness was shite."
Panic floods you at once and you scramble to your feet. However your legs wobble from getting up to fast and so it doesn't take many strides for him to reach you. His hand wraps around your upper arm like a vice.
"No you don't," his voice is as firm as his grip. You fight him anyway. He emits a low growl his other hand finds your other forearm. "You're not running away again."
"The hell I'm not," you bite back. "I'm not going back to the Underground. I'm not going to fucking jail either. Leave me alone."
Levi's brows furrow. He pushes you back so you're leaning against the tree which may not be a bad thing with your shaky legs, probably still worn out from running and walking through the forest for hours. "Who the fuck said you were going back to the Underground? Or to jail?"
"That's what happens if I get kicked out of the Scouts right? For disobedience." You remind him, hating how shaky your voice sounds. You turn your gaze from him, focusing on the darkness of the woods instead "Only reason I'm not still below or in jail is this place."
"Who said you were getting kicked out of the Scouts, brat?" Levi questioned, annoyance practically radiating off him now. "Hm? Who said that? Because I sure as hell didn't say shit and I'm pretty sure it's me and Erwin who get to decide that, not you."
"Pretty sure it's frowned upon to beat your comrade half to death."
"Tch. Don't flatter yourself. The kid will be all right. Unfortunately." Your gaze flips back to him in surprise. A corner of his mouth has raised in the tiniest smirk but it disappears quickly. "Of course, you're now doing five weeks of cleaning instead of three," he adds. "Starting with yourself. You're fucking filthy." You realize you're still caked in mud and blood, both of which are also smeared across your face. You glance down at his grip on your arms which are particularly mud-stricken. "And you're making me filthy," Levi added with a grumble.
You make another half-hearted attempt to shake him off again but your body still feels tired and you give up again quickly. "I can't go back."
"Why? You and I both know you probably took plenty of shit down below."
You scowl up at him. "Yeah, and I'm not taking it again. I'm-" you cut yourself off and shake your head.
"Finish that thought."
You hesitate, closing your eyes. You're so tired of arguing with people, of trying to hold onto a life above ground.
"You know what? Just throw me back below. Throw me in jail. I-I don't care anymore." You couldn't run away even if you wanted to at this point. There was no point in even thinking about it. He'd catch you.
Tears begin to form again and you knees give out. Levi curses, lowering you until you're sat at the foot of the tree. He releases his grip but kneels close by.
"I'm not being the poster child for the Scouts' charity work with Underground thugs." You say, your head drooping forward.
There's a long silence between you.
"Tch, like you're the first." Levi finally says. "When Erwin dragged me here, people treated me like the thug I was. I had to stick it out and prove myself."
"Clearly you did something I didn't because they respect you now!" You snap at him, tear tracks staining your filthy cheeks. "They came round for you. Now no one cares that you came from the Undergound because you're Humanity's Strongest."
"Things may change after your first mission. When the mission to reclaim Wall Maria takes place, you'll have your chance to prove yourself. "
"Assuming I survive. If I do, I'll only be disappointing some people." You shake your head. "They've seen me train. They know what I can do. They don't care."
"You need to give it longer than six weeks, brat," Levi's tone was unnervingly gentle. "People can be stubborn assholes."
Sniffing, you let out a small scoff as you bow your head. "Maybe I'm not strong enough. I'm tired of fighting to be seen as anything other than scum." You exhale. "I'm too tired." Your shoulders begin to shake as despair takes root again. "I know it's not everyone but I can't let it go. I know I should," you mumble as the tears run once more. "But I can't. I can't take it anymore."
"I thought you had the right idea before today," Levi remarks. "Ignoring those shits. Focusing on your duties. Giving them a response is what they want."
"That was the plan," you mumble. "But it takes it out of me to do that. More than I thought"
You hear Levi exhale. "You should have talked to someone about this," his voice softens somewhat, "when it was becoming overwhelming. You can't afford to risk going off like during a mission. Not when you and your team need to rely on each other. You're in my squad. We're going to be right in the thick of the shit."
"Oh yeah because tattling on those guys would have really solved my problems. It wouldn't have stopped them."
"Maybe not, but at least you could have vented without rearranging that brat's face." His tone turned sharp. "And disrupting training," he added.
"That's not the-"
"-Underground way, I know," Levi interrupted. He was silent for a moment before he spoke softly again. "You're not in the Underground anymore, Y/N."
You nod once. You do know that but you can't help but feel that venting to someone still wouldn't have achieved much except making you look whining and feeble. It didn't feel like things were that different from the Underground in that regard. You still had to be seen as tough in the military. So, in that sense, you were screwed either way. Probably always had been, from the moment you were born. Was this your own twisted kind of destiny?
You raise the the back of your sleeve to wipe your face but Levi grabs your wrist. He releases a sigh before his hand moves around your wrist. Despite the mud undoubtedly rubbing onto his uniform, he pulls you over towards one of the patches of moonlight. Sitting you directly under one, he pulls his arm back. You raise your own to shield your eyes from the moonlight for a moment. Meanwhile Levi pulls off his cravat. You stiffen in surprise as he reaches out to wipe your face.
"You're unbelievably filthy," he complains although his lips twitch.
You ignore it. "You shouldn't ruin your… weird scarf thing…" you finish lamely.
"It's called a cravat, brat, and I have others. This may even wash out."
"Even so, you shouldn't bother." You mumble although it's muffled against the cloth wiping away the blood and mud off your face.
"Tch, did I ask for your recommendation?"
"What's it matter if I'm dirty? I'm not going back there," you try and fill your voice with strength again. However your voice, just like your legs, wobbles. "Don't make me go back," you plead, eyes overflowing with tears you've long given up on holding back. "Please just let me escape. No one needs to know."
"No." Your captain answers calmly. "You're not running away from this, Y/N. You do that and that bastard and his friends win."
"Maybe, I don't care. My pride's shot to hell at this point. Fuck, I don't even care what happens to me anymore." Honestly at this point, you feel too exhausted and wrung out to think straight and your body is still refusing to cooperate with you.
"Then you won't mind coming back." Levi says. You scowl at him. He pulls the cravat away, folding it and tucking it into his pocket. "You're out of your mind if you think you can survive out there on your own, in your condition. You took a beating from Forster didn't you? You really thought you could run away like this?"
You look away from him, not willing to admit that he's right. You wish that he'd just leave you alone here, not drag you back to base for more of the same. Maybe that made you selfish, or a coward, or weak. You didn't care anymore.
With an unsteady breath, you gaze into Levi's eyes. They shine under the moonlight and for a moment, they captivate you with their beauty.
You force yourself to snap out of it. "Why would you want someone like me to come back? I'm not any kind of special soldier. We both know I was dumped in your squad because we're both from the Underground and skipped military training. I've proved today that I'm not thick-skinned enough. I've defied you multiple times today alone. I'm not a soldier. I'm exactly what that bastard's been saying I am."
"Throwing a self-pity parade isn't going to help."
Your hands clenched at once as Levi's words stoked the last embers of anger burning away inside you. "This isn't self-pity, Captain. It's the truth."
"It's bullshit," came the blunt reply. "You're full of bullshit. You've had opportunities to desert when all this was building up. You didn't. You chose to commit. So don't think I'm going to take any of this crap. You're wound up, exhausted and I'm assuming in some pain. You're taking all the shit that those bastards put on you and making it your problem. It's not your fucking problem, it's theirs. We're already carrying humanity's hopes. Don't carry their prejudices as well."
His speech hit a nerve. somewhere within the mess of emotions whirling around inside you, maybe because you weren't expecting him to go on that kind of rant It made a spark of sense but a headache is making an appearance, making it difficult to stew over.
"I-I don't know how to stop doing that," you admit.
Levi huffs a little. "You can start by coming back and getting a shower, something to eat and then some fucking sleep. We'll go from there tomorrow."
Although you hesitate, it's more for pride at this point and you are soon nodding, slumping forward. "Okay," you mutter.
"At last, sense prevails," he grumbles. He rises to his feet and stares down at you. "Up you get."
You use the ground to push yourself to your feet. Once you're steady, Levi takes the controllers of his gear out and gestures for you to step closer to him. "Hold onto me." As soon as you're close enough, he wraps one arm around you. You cautiously wrap our arms around his neck. "Tch, tighter, brat," he chides. You tighten your hold on him.
"You know, when you're not being a pain in the ass," Levi murmured, "you're a decent soldier. Even if you're beating the shit out of your comrades."
You barely manage a laugh as you cling to him. His firm physique feels nice against your limp figure and trembling legs.
In the next second, you hear his cables shoot out and soon you're both flying through the air.
The rest of the evening passes by so quickly, you are half-convinced you are dreaming it it.
On arrival, you're checked over by medics who confirm that, apart from your lost tooth and likely bruising on your ribs, you are not, in fact, as injured as you could be. However lying in the cool damp forest hasn't done you much in the way of favours. You're prescribed bed rest for at least 48 hours. After that, Levi orders you to go shower which is a slower and more painful process than usual but it does allow the hot water to soak into your muscles more.
When you emerge, there's a plate of bread and a cup of tea waiting on your bedside table along with the small bottle of painkiller the medics gave you. You gratefully sink into bed. It's a good job the captain did not linger to watch you drop crumbs onto the sheets.
After that, you slip into a mostly dreamless sleep, your mind too drained to conjure anything of note.
Sleep did help, at least somewhat. You woke up late morning, to another plate of food and a note from Levi ordering you to stay in bed. You made no move of defiance this time, your frazzled emotions at least somewhat untangled by rest and food.
In the afternoon, Levi delivered some paperwork for you to do. It was a relief, to throw yourself into something that didn't allow you to dwell on last night.
Before you knew it, hours had passed and Jean stopped by after training to deliver some news. Flock and his friends will be taking over all of yours and his designated chores for the next six weeks. Except for Levi's office which will be solely your responsibility for the next three weeks. You try and hide your relieved smile at the reduction in punishment time. You don't need to question it, nor the punishment of Floch's cronies.
For the first time in a long while, you're grateful and… that isn't exactly a terrible feeling.
