Chapter 4: Winter I
Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin
Previously: Petra befriends Levi, Farlan, and Isabel. They begin training and running drills. Petra offers to work part-time at a clinic. Levi is angry with her for not listening and going out.
The cold bit her cheeks and nose sharply. Cupping her hands, she blew them to keep warm. Winter was almost upon them and the temperatures were dropping fast. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she ignored the body slumped against the wall to her left. It wasn't the first and it certainly wasn't going to be the last.
The dead deserved a proper burial, but the ground was cold and frozen and solid. And there wasn't enough fire to keep the living warm much less to burn the dead. Isabel had assured her there was a group that went around collecting bodies to keep them from decaying and letting diseases fester.
As the weeks passed, she was glad to see it was true. Petra sighed, entering the cozy apartment. It wasn't as warm as she would have liked, but it was a vast improvement to the outside. She got a fire going while she waited for the others to return. Knowing they would be a while, Petra pulled out a small notebook and began writing.
Originally, it had been a way to keep her mind from losing important details about the upcoming years. And she was sure to write it out in code. As a child, she had kept a diary and took it everywhere. Thus, she ended up misplacing it a lot, which had led her to create her own little code. A codebreaker could decipher it easily, but a normal person wouldn't bother to put in the effort. That was enough for Petra.
Voices came through the door before the bodies did and she had ample time to switch the brown leather journal with a book about herbs. Isabel moaned happily, placing a bag down and collapsing next to Petra. "You're so warm," she sighed and curled next to the ginger-haired woman.
"How'd it go?" Petra inquired.
"As well as you'd expect," Farlan answered.
Petra's stomach filled with dread. Food was getting harder and harder to secure. The cold was killing much of the little vegetation the people in the Underground managed to grow. She could not help but be grateful once again for the underground reservoir. At least there was no fear of running out of fresh water.
"Let's go, it's time." Levi turned and walked out.
The cold wasn't the only thing frosty. Much to Farlan's disappointment, Levi and Petra had chosen to ignore whatever happened between them altogether. It would have been fine except for the awkwardness that would spring up at odd times. Majority of the time they were cordial so he let it go. They were adults, they would figure it out. Sometimes though, he just wanted to lock them together into a room and force them to deal with it.
"I'll come, too." Farlan moved to stand, but stayed at Petra's hand.
"It's fine, you're tired and cold, stay here and warm up."
"I really don't mind," he protested.
"It's okay." Petra smiled and squeezed his hand. "You should stay, I'd feel really bad if you got sick because of me." She thought he was a really good teacher, strict, but gave out compliments and helped her "improve" her skills with the 3D gear. It was nice having him around, he was pleasant company. And she could even use the "he's a good teacher" excuse on how she was so good at using the 3D gear.
"Okay," he accepted, smiling widely.
Petra followed Levi out silently. After their argument following his and Farlan's little mission to get her the Titan fighting gear, there were many moments of silence when it was just the two of them. The quiet was nothing new to Petra. The awkwardness was.
Leaving their problems behind, they began. Not for the first time, Levi wondered if it was truly her first time learning how to use the 3D gear. If he didn't know any better, he'd say she already knew how to use it and was holding back on purpose. It didn't make much sense to him so he let it go.
When they were done, Levi didn't explain where they were doing and she didn't ask. Mentally, she went over everything she did, wondering if she went too far. He's starting to get suspicious. She should have gone with the natural-born-user-of-the-3D-gear excuse, like Mikasa, instead of pretending to be a first-timer. Petra's stomach squirmed in discomfort. Eren talked about her a lot, along with his best friend, Armin. Thinking about Mikasa made Petra think about Eren and miss her friends and family.
She still had no idea what the Petra Ral—of this timeline or universe or whatever it was—whether she was still alive. The nightmare of her child version dying would reoccur every now and then, not letting her forget.
They arrived, waiting at the end of a street and standing near the edge of an old, dust coated building. Petra knew the area well and only kept half an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. It was safe enough and she wasn't too worried with Levi next to her.
Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Levi had crossed his arms over his chest. Why wasn't he wearing gloves? It wasn't as easy to acquire winter gear down there as it was on the surface though it wasn't that difficult either. Still, he should have a pair from the previous raid. She noticed the paper peeking out of his pockets and realized it was why he wasn't using them. His hands must be freezing. Considering how long they'd been outside, they had to have gone numb.
Come to think of it, Levi gave these to me. She looked down at her own hands. He would have known the gloves were a better fit for him. Guilt swirled around in her stomach. She wasn't as used to the cold as they were. Unlike her, they'd lived their entire lives there.
They didn't know that, but it was obvious she was the most affected by the low temperature between the four of them. Wincing slightly at how much damage the cold must have done to his fingers, she got at idea. Petra pretended to shift her weight and turned away, unwilling to let him see the pink staining her cheeks.
Arguing the pros and cons of her decision in her head, she decided to go for it. Levi blinked when she moved to stand before him. Pushing off the wall, he stood straight and alert. "You're going to get frostbite on your hands." She pulled off her gloves.
"I can handle it." Rolling her eyes, to his surprise, she put the gloves in her pockets and unbuttoned the last button of her coat. "What are you—" Levi began and she cut him off by taking his hands and pulling them under two layers of her clothing.
She grimaced. Even with a layer of cloth between his hands and her skin, she could feel the ice-cold of his fingers. "Don't," she told him and kept a firm grip on his hands to keep him from retracting them. Rotating her thumbs very, very gently and carefully over his skin to get the blood circulating, she finally looked him in the eyes.
Levi, for his part, wasn't sure how to react. It wasn't every day a woman grabbed his hands and pressed them against her belly. Suddenly, he could distinctly imagine what a passerby might think of a man putting his hands on a woman's stomach. "There's no need." He attempted to pull away again.
Shaking her head, she kept her grip solid. "No, don't." Staring at his impassive face, she saw the redness creeping up his neck and bit back a smile. His fingers twitched. "They're hurting, aren't they?" A sharp and needling pain stabbed the nerves of his skin. "That's good. It means you're getting feeling back into your hands. The change from cold to warm can cause that."
Levi stared neutrally, listening to her babble away and not meet his eyes. Eventually, she fell silent. His hands are rough. They were only slightly bigger than hers. My fingers are slimmer, his are longer. Not having anything better to do, she began memorizing the feel of his hands and fingers.
Her stomach... His fingers were frozen, dropping her core's temperature. "I think that's enough." Through his fingers, he could feel the muscles in her stomach and he figured that was confirmation enough.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," he replied, and to prove his point, he wiggled his fingers.
Petra squealed adorably and contorted her body, her forehead brushing against his coat. "D-Don't do that," she whimpered and clutched his hands strongly, trying to keep them from moving. She was very ticklish.
Levi grunted, tugging his hands. "Are you going to let me go?" Mumbling an apology, she moved to his side, buttoning up her coat.
"Here." She held out her gloves. "I've got my coat's pockets," she added before he could argue.
Levi accepted them, knowing she wouldn't stop insisting if he didn't take them. "You could have done this in the first place you know," he pointed out. "She opened her mouth...and nothing came out. To his amusement, her face began to turn red.
"No, yeah I mean, it," she babbled, "but, wouldn't've—wouldn't be as effective and fast." Swallowing the rest of the jumbled words ready to burst out and embarrass her further, she turned her blushing face away from his amused gaze.
Coat wrapped tightly around her, Petra observed her surroundings sullenly. The worsening weather and food supply had her worrying about Mary, the woman who had been kind enough to give shelter and food to a stranger. A gentle touch on her arm broke her out of her thoughts. "You okay?" Farlan frowned lightly.
"Fine, just thinking."
"You don't have to hide your fear. It's worrying, I know. This is one of the worst winters I've experienced so far," he muttered, eyeing the shops around them intently.
Petra felt a coil of dread tighten in her stomach. "Are we going to...?" The look on his face was answer enough.
Farlan sighed, "I don't like it either. These people aren't so bad and they're trying to survive, just like us. But if we want to continue to live, we have to do whatever it takes."
I guess all bets are off. There were too many people and not enough supplies. Unfortunately, it meant taking even from the good ones or those they were on somewhat friendly terms with. They walked in silence until something caught her eye. Quickly, she patted her pockets for some leftovers.
Farlan's hand stopped her before she could take one step in the little girl's direction. "Don't."
She glanced at the starving child before turning to him. "Why not?"
"It's too cruel." He shook his head. She stared at him, dismayed. "You're not giving her food. You're giving her false hope. She may survive for the time being, but eventually, she'll die while holding on to a small bit of hope someone will come save her. That's too cruel." His gaze softened at her crestfallen expression. "C'mon." Farlan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her back. She's too kind and generous. He didn't think she belonged in the Underground. She's too good, too pretty for this ugly hellhole. This place will swallow her whole one day.
"What's wrong?" Petra tilted her head, meeting his eyes.
"Nothing," he replied, embarrassed at having been caught staring. Looking ahead, he tightened his hold and sped up. "Let's hurry back, Isabel and Levi are waiting."
When they arrived, they heard Isabel in the kitchen while Levi was studying some papers. He looked up and raised an eyebrow at them. Petra was confused momentarily until Farlan hastily removed his arm. He cleared his throat, nodding to the papers in his best friend's hands. "What's that?"
"Our new target."
The plan was familiar. One team acted as a distraction while the other one took the merchandise. A few days later, they pulled off the plan perfectly. Happy at first, Petra changed her mind later that night as she lay in bed. While stocking up their supplies, she had been glad they could survive for another few weeks, if they rationed carefully. Now, she couldn't help but feel guilty.
Those people they stole from would suffer. Did they have children? Would they starve because of the theft? The survival excuse felt weak when faced with the possibility of a child slowly dying of hunger so she could eat. Quiet as a mouse, she slipped outside and climbed up to the flat roof.
Pausing briefly to look up the ceiling of rocks, she let disappointment quell in her chest. The Underground didn't have a vast sky. She settled back against the cold roof, knees drawn up to her chest. The guilt wasn't going to let her sleep. Resigning herself to a night of restlessness, she placed her head on her arms and closed her eyes.
Petra didn't need to look up to see who had joined her by her side. "What are you doing up here?" Levi finally asked.
"Same as you," was her muffled reply. "Couldn't sleep."
"What's wrong?"
"Why would you think anything's wrong?"
"Because you're an open book, it's easy to read your emotions. You seemed pretty happy earlier today, all smiles and bright eyes. Now you look like shit."
"You can't see my face."
"I can hear it in your voice." Not the kind of guy to know subtly, Levi placed his hand on her head and made her look up. She stared back despondently. "Now I can see it, too." His shook her head lightly, like it would shake some answers, or that sad expression, loose. "Tell me what's wrong."
Petra sighed, knowing he wouldn't understand and probably chide her for being weak, but she needed to say it out loud and get it off her chest. "I...those people we stole from, I was thinking about how they're going to suffer."
His answer was as she expected. "We do what we have to so we can survive. It's an—"
"I know, and I understand that. I can almost live with it. But I keep thinking what if they have a family? It's one thing not giving food to a starving child I know is going to die and it'll be cruel and I'll only be giving her false hope," she rambled, "but it's different from taking food and stealing hope. I don't know how to live with that." She stared at him expectantly.
"I don't have an answer that'll satisfy your moral dilemma." Levi shrugged, being honest. "It doesn't work like that down here. You do what you have to for your survival and the people you care about. That's all that matters to me. Innocent people get hurt but that's a consequence of life. You don't have to like it, I don't, it's just a sad truth you have to accept and learn to live with."
Petra looked away. "It's not so easy for me. I'm not built that way," she muttered bitterly. "I can understand logically, but I only wish I could discard my emotions without hesitation. Stop feeling."
I don't. As frustrating as it could be, Levi found her kind nature rather endearing. And some part of him would be disappointed if she changed from her kind, warm self to someone more harsh and practical, like him. Levi's face twisted into a glare. "Is that what this is about?"
Petra blinked, unsure what he meant. "I'm sorry?"
"You feel bad so you're trying to make up for what happened by punishing yourself," he replied with disdain.
She furrowed her eyebrow and disagreed, "I'm not punishing myself."
"Can you feel your arms?" Levi eyed her bare limbs. "Or your toes? Or your fingers?" She was too underdressed for the weather and he wanted to pull her into his arms, warming her up. "Punishing yourself isn't going to help anyone," he scolded.
"I'm not—"
"You'll make yourself sick and that won't make it easy on anyone. You can either accept the truth and stop your stupid pity-party, or leave before you let your bleeding heart burden us." He looked away and muttered, "I'm not letting you die on my watch."
Petra stared at his profile before standing up and leaving for her bed. Levi followed her a minute later, knowing she may have set her guilt aside for now, but it was going to come back to haunt her. Sometimes, she was too caring for her good. But he wouldn't have her any other way.
I know him. Petra tucked the blanket around the shivering, pale young man. She eyed the two women and a boy he came in with. They must be his family. All four were sick, having come down with some stomach flu. Later in the evening, before she left, a few more familiar faces came in to be looked at, complaining about the same symptoms.
They were the people—and their families—who had helped her and her friends steal a shipment a few days before. Petra figured they hadn't watched how much they ate. The sudden difference in the intake of food after rationing the little amount they had for a long time had likely upset their stomachs. She made a mental note to keep the same thing from happening to her friends.
Petra knew something was wrong the second she stepped into the apartment. She had been looking forward to going home and warming up by the hearth—they'd traded some of the stuff for the wood for the hearth—and retiring for a quiet evening with the other three. "Did something happen?" She eyed all of them for some injury that was going to pop up out of nowhere.
"Did some people from the previous raid come to the clinic?" Farlan's voice was low and solemn.
She relaxed. None of them were hurt. They were just worried having heard about their comrades. "Yeah, they had upset stomachs. We should be careful about how we eat. I don't want to get sick."
"We've lived here all our lives," Levi stated, "everyone knows eating too much all of a sudden after going a long time without food makes you sick."
Petra didn't understand Levi's words until Farlan clarified at her confused look. "There was something in the food. The rumor about a large shipment, easy to steal for people with the right skills, it was all done on purpose. It was a trap to poison any thieves and scare others from trying to steal their stuff."
Petra's first reaction was relief. They still had enough food so they hadn't touched the tainted stuff. Her second reaction was worry, for those didn't have any food. They must have eaten it right away. Her mind raced. The people in the clinic, they must have had some clean food and some poisoned. So it didn't kill them right away. The majority of the others hadn't come in. She could only come to one conclusion.
"Most of the others," she began, "they didn't come because it was too late, wasn't it? They had too much of the poisoned food and it..." No one said anything until Levi declared they had to get rid of the tainted food. It was an almost physically painful process, tossing out the food despite knowing it was poisoned.
After it was done, they ate a little from their meager supply and went to bed very early. Worry kept Petra up. Hearing Isabel's soft snores, she couldn't understand how the young girl could sleep so easily, within minutes of her head hitting the pillow.
Then again, this probably wasn't her first time going to sleep knowing she might not be eating for the next week. Petra had seen enough of the Underground—and it was mostly the "nicer" districts—to know how lucky they were to have a proper roof over their heads and some provisions.
But to an only child who spent most of her life in a safe town with a parent with a steady income and three meals a day, it was a difficult adjustment.
Shivering and tightening the blanket around her, she shoved the stressful thoughts away. I'm worrying so much I'm hearing things. Except she heard something again. She sat up. Had someone broken in? Straining her ears, she listened closely. Her tensed muscles loosened, she recognized the breathing and the footsteps. What's Levi doing up?
The answer came to her immediately. She knew he had sleeping problems. She'd long suspected it and her theory was confirmed when she came to the Underground and began living with him. The soft click of the front door made her jump into action without thinking. Levi stopped halfway down the stone stairs when Petra emerged. "Where are you going?"
"Out for a walk, I can't sleep." He turned and began descending. "I won't be out long. Don't worry, go to sleep."
Petra closed the door and sat on the top step. "Okay, I'll wait for you here."
He stopped, but didn't face her, "It's cold out, Petra, go back to bed. It'll be a short walk."
"We both know that's not true."
The day after their argument, Farlan had tried to help patch things up. He'd told her why Levi may have come off too strong. Petra had understood—though she'd still been a little upset—why he reacted after what happened to Isabel. He'd gone on a short walk then too and come back with a bloody knife.
"You don't have to do this."
"Yeah, I do."
She sighed, her warm breath visible in the freezing night. "How is senseless violence going to help anyone?"
"While we weren't close, they were comrades, I will avenge their deaths."
Petra couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic." Levi whipped his head back angrily, emotions bursting, ready to yell at her. "We're the thieves. We have our reasons, yes, but we still steal from them and make life difficult for them and their families. Does it really come as a surprise to you that they took such drastic measures? To do what they had to for their survival and the people they care about?"
He was speechless at having his own words being used against him.
"What they did was horrible, but I can't say I don't understand where they are coming from. It's why I think killing them is a bit much. But hey," she shrugged, "if you still think they deserve it, it's not like I can stop you."
Yeah, right. He thought bitterly. Physically she couldn't, but she knew how to guilt trip him. For a minute there, he really hated her. If she wasn't around, he would have gone and done what he had to. But no, there she was, sitting horribly underdressed—again—in the cold, taking the role of his conscience and keeping him from "senseless violence." He was torn.
Warm fingers wrapped around his arm and tugged him out of his stupor. "It's cold, Levi," she repeated his words. "Come to bed." She pulled him up the stairs. Shutting the door behind them, she led him up and paused momentarily before leading him to the closest room. Isabel slept like a log and wasn't likely to wake before them.
Butterflies erupted in her stomach while she waited for him to remove his shoes. She hadn't thought of him as her captain for a while now. It crept on her in the weirdest moments. Mentally shaking off those thoughts, she reminded herself it wasn't unusual for the people there to huddle—not cuddle, she told herself, huddle—for warmth, especially in the winter time.
Petra stuck to him like glue the second he slipped under the sheets. She rested her head in his collarbone, arms and legs wound tightly around him. The low temperature was the excuse she used, refusing to admit she was a little afraid he was going to sneak out after she fell asleep. It's cold, and he's warm. She closed her eyes.
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