Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 2 - so point me toward the morning

"Fuck," Levi sighs roughly, leaning back in his chair. He pinches the bridge of his nose, rubbing the bone there harshly as he tries to think, eyes burning from the hours he has spent staring at the computer screen, trying to figure out what grant proposal he can put together first. There's the research that Erd and his team is doing, but that isn't far enough along to put together a convincing pitch. Neither is the project that Petra's on...

Dragging his hands through his hair with a loud exhalation, Levi realizes that he's at the end of his rope. It's been two weeks already since his deal with Smith, and he has no progress to show for it. His fingers tighten, pulling his hair until it is taut, a very physical pressure against his scalp. He has to figure this out, and fast, so this Sword of Damocles can stop hovering over him already.

Levi rights himself, looks around his office. Sitting in here isn't going to do him any more good than it has already.

He makes his way down to his lab, footsteps clicking authoritatively on the tile floor. Dust motes swirl in the light streaming in through the windows, disturbed by the wind of his passage, and Levi pushes open the door to the lab with one shoulder, raising his eyebrow at his students within. Levi does a quick headcount and nods to himself.

Raising his voice, Levi says, "Good, most of you are here. Alright, you guys. Come over here, I need to talk to you all for a moment." Levi waits until he has everyone's attention, some of them shedding gloves as they take a few much-needed steps away from their machines. "We need to come up with solid plans about our research and goals for the grant proposal bullshit circus we'll be entering here soon."

Levi catches Erd making a face. Resigned, Levi crosses his arms and asks, steady and calm, "Alright, Erd, what fucking problem do you have with that?"

Erd jerks guiltily, but he swallows, steels himself, used to Levi's casual vulgarity. "Why do we have to come up with more projects? We haven't even submitted anything yet, and we already have plenty of things on our plates."

"Better safe than sorry. If we talk it out, we can focus on the projects that are more solid and come up with a fucking golden timeline for the proposals. I'm not going to bank on something that hasn't happened yet, so. Meetings." Levi meets all of his students' eyes and nods once, sharp, when he sees understanding and resolve in each of them. "Good. Now. Plans, ideas, I want to hear all of them. I want to hear how far you all are on your projects, anything you think is interesting or worth exploring. We'll go around the room. Petra, you first."

The meeting runs long, though it is arguably fruitful, as Levi and his grad students get a firmer schedule set about the tracks to take their research. One hour turns to two, and Levi orders everyone to get back to their lab work, pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves to join them. Outside, the light dims and disappears completely as the hours wind on.

Levi is hunched over a microscope, taking measurements, when Petra's voice interrupts him.

"Captain?"

Levi twitches. "Yes, Petra?"

"It's almost two in the morning." Oh? Levi glances over at a clock, and sure enough. The laboratory is deserted aside from the two of them, the hour hand pointing almost accusingly at the two. "Shouldn't you be going home?"

"I could ask you the same question." Levi groans as he forces himself up, his spine popping as he does. "Don't you have a life or something to get to?"

Petra shakes her head and smiles faintly. "I gave it to science," she says, and Levi smirks a little at that before he sighs. Petra's hands are shaking where they're clenched on the table, and her hazel eyes stand out stark against her skin, waxy and washed out in the harsh fluorescent light. She's listing to the side just standing there; Levi might be called heartless, but Petra has proven her competence time and time again, and he can't stand to see her like this.

He nudges her with a hand on her shoulder. Petra jolts, startled like some kind of small forest creature, and Levi shakes his head. "You're dead on your feet. Go home."

She -bless her, stubborn girl- stands her ground, shakes her head even though that visibly disorients her. "Not unless you do too. I've found you sleeping here for the last three days, and I'm not going to do it again."

And Levi can feel his shoulders loosening, a fond (irritating) sort of affection burning up below his sternum. He sighs, rubs the inside corners of his eyes, which feel gritty and strained. Petra's probably right, damn her. He needs a break. So Levi puts his hands on Petra's shoulders and pushes gently again, enough to make her sway only a little bit. "Don't nag, it's not charming. I'll go home. You go ahead so I can lock up."

Petra looks at Levi suspiciously, and he rolls his eyes.

"I promise, alright. Go. I'll be right behind you."

"I'll wait outside-"

"You will go home and go the fuck to sleep. If I see you here earlier than nine, I'll kick you out for a few days, understand?"

Petra looks for a moment like shes' going to argue, but then she seems to deflate, nodding as she gathers her books and papers. She pauses in the doorway and turns around. "Captain?" she asks, her voice uncertain. "We are going to be okay, aren't we? We're going to get this right?"

(Levi is struck, suddenly, with how very young she is, and his heart goes out to her.)

"Who the fuck do you think am I, Petra?" he asks, one eyebrow cocked. His voice is gentler than the words would usually allow, something approaching reassuring, even for his monotonous tone. "Of course we're going to get this done, and then we're going to throw it in everyone's faces, aren't we?"

She grins. "Yeah. Night, Captain!"

Levi waves her out the door, only lowering his hand once the door has shut behind her. Petra has a point. He probably should go home and sleep there for at least one night this week. Levi flexes his hands, looks around the lab.

He'll leave tonight.

A machine beeps, at the end of its cycle, and Levi looks over at it.

Alright, so he'll leave as soon as he's done taking measurements and finishing this up. No big deal.

(One thing to finish turns to two, turns to four o'clock in the morning and four cups of coffee later, and it surprises Levi not at all when he folds his arms up on a lab table and lowers his head, surrendering to the darkness behind his eyelids.)

"Levi."

No, Levi's sleeping here. Whoever's calling him can go fuck themself.

A cough. "Levi."

Fuck no.

"Levi, if you don't respond, I'm going to start calling you Doctor-"

His eyes jerk open. (When had he even closed them? He can't quite remember). Levi snaps upright, whips his head towards the voice and-

Doctor Erwin Smith.

Damn it.

Heart racing, Levi rubs his face roughly, hoping he doesn't look as wrong-footed as he feels. He inhales shakily. Maybe if Levi pretends hard enough, when he opens his eyes again, Smith will have disappeared, taking his perfectly styled hair, rolled up sleeves, and coffee with him.

Coffee.

Levi's skin prickles a moment later as he takes his hand away from his eyes, swallows tightly before speaking. "I'm sure," Levi grates out, his voice rough, "that you have a very compelling reason to be here bothering me in the middle of my very important work, but I'm willing to let it slide right now if you give me your coffee."

Smith, in Levi's periphery, blinks slowly, then looks down at the mug in his hands. He chuckles under his breath, but he passes the coffee cup to Levi anyway, who takes it with greedy, clutching hands. Caffeine, pure and bitter and lovely, floods Levi's tongue, sending pricks of heat along his arms as his hair raises. Smith at least takes his coffee properly, black as the day is long.

Smith waits politely while Levi inhales his relinquished coffee. "I take it that you like the coffee?" he asks mildly.

"I'm marrying it," Levi says into the cup. Then, with a heavy sigh, he sets down the mug and looks up at Smith. "Alright, what do you want?"

"I was wondering why the lights in this lab were on at six o'clock in the morning," Smith says in that same, fucking even tone of voice that makes Levi's murderous impulses surge. "I apologize for, ah…" and he pauses, just long enough to make Levi want to start twitching, before continuing, "...interrupting your work. I have to admit, I should have guessed that I would find you sleeping in here. Would you like me to-"

Levi interrupts, caustic, "Leave me alone? Yes, I would like some time to get my proposals sent out before I'm taken before that shitty fucking joke of a committee and reamed again. Thank you for your concern, Doctor Smith-"

"Erwin."

"-Doctor Smith, but I'm doing fine." Levi takes another bracing drink of coffee and evenly meets Smith's steady, flint-blue gaze. He feels oddly vulnerable, caught sleeping here like he was, and Smith's obvious scrutiny isn't making the situation any more bearable. Levi starts to unroll his sleeves from where they had been bunched around his elbows, and Smith's gaze follows the motion of his fingers.

There's a quiet noise, and it takes Levi a moment to register the soft hum as coming from Smith, and by the time he does, Smith has already turned his back and is headed out. Levi opens his mouth-

"I wasn't here to demand progress immediately. You need your time. Just remember to go home to sleep occasionally," Smith calls over his shoulder. "A top researcher like yourself should know the importance of getting real rest."

And the door swings shut behind him.

Levi's teeth click as he closes his mouth.

What the fuck?

"Where the hell does he get off, telling me what to do?" Levi mutters under his breath as he opens a drawer and fishes around for the clean shirt he knows is in there. His continued bitching is muffled as he changes, but it never really ceases. "Stupid, controlling bastard. It's been two weeks, not even a full month yet! Give me some fucking time, you fucking piece of shit fuck-"

Levi is still swearing when the first of his students begin to filter in, two hours later.

The following Monday, the sun is beginning to set outside, throwing red and bronze streaks across his laboratory, when Hanji strides through the door, getting everyone's attention with two sharp claps of their hands. "Alright, sorry everyone, but I'm here to steal your doctor!"

"Does that mean we get to go home early?" someone, probably Oluo, asks from the back of the room.

"No, it just means I get to escape you bottom-feeders for a bit. Keep working," Levi snaps back, amused, and he waves at Hanji to lead the way back to his office. "Alright, Hanji, what did you want to know?"

Casually, too casually, Hanji drawls, "Oh, nothing in particular. The state of your mental health, which student is already on your 'when I inevitably have a psychotic breakdown, they're gonna be the one I kill first' list, how your grant process stuff is going." Their eyes light on a calendar, and Hanji lets out a noise previously known only to dogs and whistles. "Fuck yeah, that's right! More importantly, most importantly, have you figured out what your Halloween costume is gonna be?"

Levi raises an eyebrow. "I don't do Halloween, Hanji."

Hanji clasps their hand to their chest, miming staggering around in shock, and Levi watches, unmoved but amused. "You don't take an opportunity to scare children? Levi, who are you?"

"Hanji, you've worked with me for the last three years. I haven't celebrated Halloween since I was ten, and I'm not going to start fucking around again now. Why are you so surprised?"

"Ehh, the way your students talk, your heart shrinks each year, so you might just collapse in on all of that bitter hatred." They grin widely. "Last I heard, someone had started a betting pool about when you'd try to ban Christmas, Grinch-style."

Levi raises an eyebrow, the side of his mouth twitching with something he won't admit is humor. "And?"

"If you let yourself go before next year, I will be so upset and I won't split my imaginary pot of winnings with you," Hanji decrees impishly.

"My poor, empty wallet." Levi's tone is endlessly dry, and he suffers through Hanji's faux-offended scoffing before he picks up his papers from his desk and begins organizing them neatly. "No, my plan on Halloween is to hole myself up in my bar and drink until I can forget the cold. It's strangely similar to how I prefer to spend most of my shitty Fridays."

Hanji winces slightly.

Levi raises an eyebrow at them. "What?"

"Well, it is going to be Halloween, Levi. Your quiet little hole-in-the-wall bar isn't going to be quiet at all, because of the parties and idiots in costumes…." They trail off meaningfully.

It's tough work to suppress the groan the thought elicits, and honestly, Levi doesn't try all that hard. "I know. Let me dream."

"No such luck. It's one of the closest bars to campus, and I had to rescue you from it last year, remember? Luckily for you," Hanji says brightly, "I know a great place that's right by where you live. Quiet, guaranteed only a few people for company, max, and they have a great selection of booze, music, and movies for your enjoyment!"

Levi side-eyes Hanji, hands stilling on his papers. "I'm listening."

"My apartment!"

"Not listening anymore."

"Levi, Levi, don't be like that! Just give it a thought!" Hanji pleads as they flop an arm across his shoulders dramatically.

Suffering through their attentions, Levi shoves his now-organized papers into a folder before brushing Hanji off. He sighs, shakes his head. "I'll think about it next time I'm in the bathroom for a while, okay? Now that we've gotten off-track, what did you actually come here for?"

Hanji shrugs one shoulder, tucks their thumbs into their belt loops. "A little birdy told me that you'd been sleeping in your lab too much, so I'm supposed to make sure you go home." They pause, considering, and then their grin widens. "After drinks, of course. I have to make sure you're doing your work right, but that's just me being a good friend."

"Of course."

"Glad you see it my way, short-stack."

"If you were anybody else, four-eyes…." Levi shakes his head. "Whatever. You mentioned booze, and I intend on making you pay for at least the first round. Just let me tell my team where I'm going first. They deserve a little time off."

They end up, to no one's surprise, at Levi's favorite bar (a short walk from the campus, and a comfortable distance from his apartment), sitting at Levi's favorite table. Hanji sets down Levi's usual drink in front of him, and they enjoy a semi-companionable silence mixed with some easy small talk for the first few rounds, before Hanji apparently deems Levi liquored up enough to talk seriously.

"Alright, Levi, lay it on me. What's eating you about the grant business?"

Levi cocks an eyebrow. "You mean, besides the general bullshit about the whole process and the backstabbing and ass-kissing that usually goes into it?"

"Yeah, yeah, exactly, besides those minor details."

Minor details.

The things that have kept him from getting funded for the last ten years aren't exactly minor details to Levi, but he holds his tongue, closing his eyes tightly for a brief moment. "Alright then, Hanji, my problem is that I don't know if I can do it." Levi holds up a hand to halt Hanji's reflexive objection, and continues tersely, "I don't have enough preliminary research put together to bring to the table for a serious grant bid, and I want to get this inane, bullshit requirement out of the way before Smith starts breathing down the back of my neck."

Hanji opens their mouth, shuts it with an impish look. Levi, about to take a drink, slowly lowers his mug and squints at them, waiting. He draws back his foot in preparation.

As expected, Hanji can't keep the comment to themself. "Well, yeah, but Erwin would pretty much have to kneel to get to your neck anyw- ow!"

Levi growls under his breath, retracting his foot from where he had kicked them. "Height jokes aside, Hanji, I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do here. It's not like I haven't been applying for grants while I was employed before. It's just. All of my proposals got turned down. Meanwhile, you could shit onto a napkin, submit it, and have ten agencies falling over themselves to give you money in an hour."

The fact that Hanji doesn't disagree with him is one of the reasons that Hanji is Levi's favorite. They spread their hands on the table, palms up. "You just need research that's sexy!"

"It's science, it isn't supposed to be sexy," Levi grumbles mulishly.

"You, my dear, Bonapartian friend, have been doing science all wrong. Research is always sexy if you play it right."

"You think you're so clever."

"Ah-ah, no," Hanji tsks, waving a finger in Levi's face with far too much dexterity given how much alcohol Levi knows they have consumed. "I know I'm clever." The easy grin drops off their face a moment later and they cross their hands over their beer, looking serious. "But I'm also serious. You don't just need good research, you need sexy research. Buzzword research. Things that look good, not just to study and work on, but that look good getting money too. Academia is very concerned about what the projects look like because not all of our donors are academics. They don't all know, or care, about what you're researching, as long as it sounds good in casual conversation."

Levi sighs roughly. "That, Hanji, is dumb as fuck. Research is research. It's always going to be relevant somehow."

Hanji sniffs. "I never said it was intelligent. And you're right, science is always going to be important, no matter what your research focuses on, but you're supposed to draw in outside interest. You can't do that with…" They tap their finger on the glass. "What are you working on right now?"

That derails them for a good hour, with Levi explaining his ongoing projects to Hanji while the other scientist viciously and gleefully tries to poke holes in his test methods and hypothesis. When Levi drains his glass again, he looks around the bar, at the clock, winces.

"Alright, we should get going."

Hanji looks up, blinking behind their glasses. "Hm? Why? We haven't figured out what to do yet."

Levi's mouth ticks to the side. "It's Monday night. And Monday night means football, which means that little brat over there under the TV is about to get rowdy and obnoxious if his team is playing."

"Enthusiastic supporter?" Hanji asks, pushing themself up with a hand braced on the table as they look over to see the boy in question stand, wobbly from alcohol, and bellow at the screen:

"Hell yeah! Go-" the boy pauses, squints at the TV, and then leans over to one of his friends, the small blond one who has a pained look on his face, visible even in the bar's dim lighting. "Armin, who's playing?"

(Hanji's eyebrow quirks upwards. Levi sighs heavily as he digs his wallet out of his back pocket.)

His friend doesn't look like he wants to answer, but he quietly responds nevertheless, and the obnoxious brat straightens again. "GO SCOUTS! FUCK THE TITANS!"

"More like," Levi says dryly, "he hates one particular team and roots for whoever's playing against them. Let's leave before he gets worse." With that, he stands, pushing back his chair and fishing out a few dollars to leave as a tip.

Hanji mimics his actions, though their attention is still on the boy, a wide smile on their face. "Don't you have him in one of your classes? He looks familiar."

"Yeah, and the sooner he realizes that he gets called on more after he's annoyed me at the bar, the less fun I'm going to have in that class, so you, Doctor Hanji, aren't going to say a word." Levi points at them, and Hanji holds up their hands innocently.

"I would never ruin your fun, Levi."

Levi scoffs, suffers through Hanji's friendly shoulder-bump as they walk out together. They both move to the side of the sidewalk to allow a group of three students -one girl who looks about ready to break someone's jaw, one large man built like a goddamned tank, and one skinny, unfairly tall man- pass into the bar. Sneering at them as they pass, Levi hikes his hood up over his head. "It's definitely good we left. Those three heckle the drunk kid until he gets even worse."

"I take it you've been there to see it happen?"

"More often than I'd like. Which means I've seen it more than once, and even that once was enough." Levi sighs roughly, digging the fingers of one hand into the inner corners of his eyes. "Fucking college kids."

Hanji grins widely as a gust of cold wind stirs their bangs, making their already flushed cheeks even redder. "Our lives are a trainwreck, aren't they? With the two of us put in charge of young, impressionable students? It's amazing we haven't killed anyone yet, fucking christ almighty."

The wind flutters around him, and he breathes in deeply, letting the cold coat his throat and nose. Levi leans his head back and breathes out and watches the vapor-cloud dissipate. "Something like that," he allows a moment later with a faint smile.

"So I will see you on Halloween, right?" Hanji asks a few days later, apropos of nothing, and Levi waves his hand idly, looking through a stereoscope.

"Only if you keep your promise to supply the booze, shit-for-brains."

Hanji takes it as the answer it is and leaves, laughter and the vague chemical scent of acid lingering behind them as his students murmur to themselves, confused.

(Levi wakes up on the thirtieth of October in his lab after another long night of work, face squished against the smooth black counter tops and the edge of a spiral notebook, just in time to see the door of his lab swing shut. No one else is in here, though, but there is a lone, hot cup of coffee, waiting just outside of arm's reach. A note, attached to it, reads:

"Beds are still more comfortable than your lab tables.

-E. Smith"

Levi swears, crumples the note, and vindictively holds it over a Bunsen burner until it's nothing more than ash.

He drinks the coffee anyway.)

As it turns out, drinking over at Hanji's on Halloween is the best idea they could've had, since all of Levi's usual bars (and therefore, all of his usual spots at said bars) were taken up by idiots in costumes who should've been able to find something better than binge drinking to do with their Friday night, like studying. Even if Hanji makes Levi wear little devil horns and answer the door to pass out candy to kids. It's a small concession for the top-shelf booze they bought for him.

Levi tips back his tumbler as the doorbell rings and he tries not to worry about grants for a night.

Which is, of course, why Levi heads back to the lab the instant that Hanji sets him free. He intends to get work done; he really, really does in all of his half-drunk earnestness, but only an hour into Levi's inebriated midnight craze, his eyes light on the empty coffee mug that Levi has no intention of giving back to Smith, and his train of thought is instantly derailed.

That fucker.

Who the hell does he think he is, sneaking into Levi's lab and probably... Probably watching him sleep? Like a gigantic fucking creep. Fuck that guy.

"Fuck him," Levi growls, and he finds a pad of yellow sticky notes and a pen. Writes "Fuck you" across the top of the pad, continues it down and down until he's filled up the whole thing. And once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, until he ends up with a sticky note, finally, that says:

"you're an overcontrolling bastard and if I didn't want tenure so much, I would've told you to kiss my ass a month ago.

-Levi"

And Levi is just drunk enough to go slide the note under Smith's office door, made bold and reckless by the brandy still working its way through him. Fuck, Levi thinks, I should've... fucking. Told him about trespassing. Because that was totally trespassing, and that shit's illegal.

Maybe another note. Just one.

Levi swears that he'll be able to focus after this next note, it's just. He's so pissed off, now that he's letting himself think about it, and doesn't Smith, with his fucking hair and stupid broad hands and self-important attitude, deserve to know about it all?

He'll stop after this. He'll be able to focus once he's got it all off his chest after all, Levi reasons as he slides another sticky note under Smith's door.

Levi wakes up the next morning in the lab, mouth stale and head throbbing. Groaning, he pushes himself upright and squints around the room. Surveys the small carnage of sticky notes, most of them illegible, surrounding him with no small amount of trepidation.

Shit.

Levi remembers, though an alcohol soaked haze, leaving some notes under Smith's door, but if this is anything to go by... the number might have been greater than he realized. And, if he's right in remember the contents of these notes. Fuck, he needs to get them back.

As soon as the idea comes, Levi is standing, and he heads down the sunlit hallways towards Smith's office, hoping beyond hope that since it's Saturday, Smith will be late in, or perhaps won't have shown up at all. But the universe continues to think that he's the brunt of several cosmic jokes.

Smith's office door is open.

Levi thinks he can see his life flashing before his eyes. Slowly, he leans around the doorjamb.

And there is Smith, calmly sipping a cup of coffee, with one eyebrow cocked as he reads a pale yellow sticky note. More of them are scattered around, either stuck to the pads of Smith's fingers or along the edge of his desk. Wincing, Levi pulls back. He has no idea how he's going to get around this. Fuck. This is going to get him definitely fired.

"Levi."

Shit.

But Levi steels himself and steps fully into the doorway, crossing his arms across his body defensively. "What?"

Smith cocks one of his fingers, baring the written side of one of the sticky notes to Levi. "I wasn't aware that you knew the penal code in regards to trespassing violations."

Levi's mouth ticks to the side, and he shrugs one stiff shoulder. "I looked it up last night, apparently."

"You looked up a lot of things last night, it seems," Smith says as he tilts another note. Across the top, Levi can make out "A list of synonyms for shit, and by shit, I really mean you," with a list in increasingly scrawling handwriting below and he closes his eyes. He is never, ever drinking again. Smith continues with, "You have some frankly alarming ideas of what I get up to at six in the morning here."

Levi feels almost obligated to interject, "You snuck into my lab to leave me coffee. That's creepy enough on it's own."

"I think this one is my favorite," Smith says, ignoring Levi. "It's nice, simple, and to the point."

Levi doesn't want to look.

He looks up anyway.

'Thanks, dad,' and 'dad' is underlined approximately seven times, as if that would make it more sarcastic. Levi hates his drunk brain. He never should have put any of those under the door.

"I think I'll have it framed."

"Oh fuck you," Levi says, but it has no venom to it. Smith just shakes his head and peels the last note off his fingers.

"After how much you had to drink last night, I must say that I admire your dedication to work. I was surprised to find you in here this morning. Though next time, I would advise you to refrain, either from the drinking or from the, ah. Note-leaving."

Levi winces. "I wasn't exactly planning on writing all of those notes. I just. Got carried away."

Smith wordlessly shakes his head, smiling. "It seems like it. Have a good day, Levi. I recommend taking at least the morning off, if I can't convince you to take the entire day. I'll see you either tomorrow or Monday."

Levi blinks.

He's not fired? He should absolutely be fired for this.

But this is the second gift horse he's gotten, and Levi is no more keen to take it for granted than he was the first one. He nods shortly and about-faces, heading back to the lab as panic sizzles down his nerves. That was a mind-bogglingly stupid stunt for him to pull, and the fact that it even kind of came out well has Levi breathing in and out in short, controlled bursts as he gathers up his wallet, pen, notes. He's about to grab his coat and swing out of the lab when he finally sees it.

Levi lets out a short bark of laughter.

There, previously going unnoticed on the counter, is an innocuous, lukewarm cup of coffee with a note attached to it (reading 'You are one of the only people I know who thinks doing science drunk is an even better idea than doing it sober. Perhaps you should take some time off and relax for once. I know an excellent masseuse. - E. Smith') , and seriously, Levi hates the guy.

He still drinks the coffee.

[.end chapter 2.]