I've been waiting for this chapter since day one.

Maybe it was a church. Catholic perhaps, or maybe it was Jewish. Levi didn't know much about architecture, and even less about organized religion, but the dust particles were invading the porous tissue of his lungs, and he decided that maybe it wasn't Jewish because of the giant cross at the front of the altar. If it could still be called a cross. The wood was broken on one side, and the emaciated Christ statue was hanging halfway off.

Levi sat in a bench, after carefully brushing away all the cobwebs and dust and probably asbestos. He was tired, and if he were truly honest, not at the top of his game. They managed to reach the innermost wall in a record time, but not record enough to warrant a stay at an inn to bathe, or sleep.

If it weren't for the markets and shops that perpetually lined the streets of Wall Sina's capital city, Levi and Mikasa would have not been able to eat. But a old baker and his wife made each one of them a sandwich with a little extra charge, and while Levi's adrenaline pumping a little too fast to even stomach the idea of food, Mikasa silently chewed away as she walked around this abandoned infrastructure.

The two of them managed to find a middle ground, which was actually rather impressive for them, so what would have been bickering over the upper hand was replaced with professional silence. Due to the circumstances of their trip, Levi did not allow himself to think much of the oral sex she performed, but he was also a human being who couldn't help it, so he thought about it anyway.

She was a little toothy, but it wasn't uncomfortable, and it felt good enough for Levi to wonder if it was intentional, or if she just wasn't able to widen her mouth one more inch. He came harder than he would've liked, but she swallowed all of it, and the rest of the trip wasn't nearly as awkward as it could have been.

And now they were here. Mikasa finished her sandwich, and even ate half of Levi's, and spent the remaining amount of freetime aimlessly wandering around the cathedral. The roof was caved in, and moss and vines and little sprouts of grass were popping out of every readily available crack, but it still had its glass mosaics and marble statues and that religious sort of charm that was both overwhelming and intimidating. She occasionally picked up a book from the ground, flipped it in her hands once or twice, but never bothered to open it, and always gently put it back where she found it.

"Why are we here, exactly?"

Levi wondered how long it would take until she broke. For the past twenty-something hours, she patiently kept her curiosities to herself and only spoke to either undermine Levi or affirm the orders she was given. But, finally, she asked.

"Escort mission," He honestly wasn't sure what to call it, actually. The paperwork called it an escort, but Erwin would never send his finest killer out as a delivery boy. But assassination seemed too scary of a term to tell her. "He's a drug smuggler, or something," Rapist, murderer, and father-of-the-year were also too scary of terms. "But he paid us a large sum of money to keep him safe."

As a polite sort of mood bolster, Levi would've assured her that she would receive her percentage of that money, but then he remembered that she was, in fact, more of a prisoner than a career-seeker. In fact, she was fully a prisoner and not at all in this for any sort of compensation. The thought of this made Levi inexplicably uncomfortable to think about.

The silence wasn't helping anything, so he cleared his throat. "He has pissed off a lot of people in the past few months, so it's our job to make sure he gets from point A to point B relatively unharmed."

Even saying those words made him tickle.

Mikasa didn't sound scared. "Will it be dangerous?"

"As long as you don't piss me off, you'll be okay."

She stared at him, not in any malicious way, for once, but it was hollow and long, as if Levi's words held some double meaning, or possessed metaphoric value. It didn't, of course.

"I'll keep that well in mind."

It only took another few minutes before the cathedral door swung wide open. Levi was expecting it, so the sudden noise didn't make him jump, but he could see in the corner of his eye the way Mikasa was a little too quick to reach for a knife. She didn't pull any weapon out, and once she saw it was presumably the escort subject in question, she regained her nerves.

Once he made sure Mikasa wasn't about to scare him off, Levi was able to fully and truly focus his undivided attention on his guest of honor. It wasn't as if they could embrace in open arms, and Levi was nearly positive this man did not know of their true relationship. For all he knew, they were nothing more than two separate men on two separate ends of the business spectrum.

Speaking of business, Levi stepped forward. "Money upfront."

"Right you are," The man said.

He was large, at least in a body-mass sense. With facial hair more unruly than stubble, but not quite robust enough to be called a beard, and broad shoulders that revealed that he was, at one point in his younger life, in very good shape, the man dropped a satchel of money to the wooden, mossy floors. With a swift kick with his unpolished boot, the satchel slid the distance to reach Levi. Not taking an eye off his father, he reached down, lifting the bag into his hands.

It was very light, a lot lighter than what the true payment price would've weighed, but Levi wanted his father to think he was clever enough to trick him. With the way his father's tobacco-stained teeth held a sly grin, he thought Levi was as good as stupid.

Without any initiating or formal departure words, the three of them simply started walking. Both Mikasa and Levi walked with their forest-green capes and their hoods up. Mikasa even had her red scarf on to cover the majority of her face. Levi's father was in a black trench coat that could use a trip to a seamstress. The night was chilly, but with the pace they were walking, they'd be warm soon enough.

"I'm traveling to a bordello in the next city over, and I already have the route memorized," In a voice that attempted to be quiet, but failed miserably, Levi's father avoided the eyes of all the market goers as they passed through the streets. "I'm smuggling a few hundred thousand dollars worth of heroin."

"Of course you wouldn't want to make it too easy," Levi barely whispered, blending in with his heavier sigh. Louder, he looked at the back of his father's head. One clean shot and this would all be over, but no, not in such a public place. "How many are after you right now?"

"Several," He said with no hesitation, or shame. "They've been tracking my location for several days now," Levi's father turned back to make eye contact. "The last escort your Commander sent was a joke. Hardly lasted a mile."

Levi was on good terms with the man who died trying this escort mission. He swallowed his rage deep back down to the dark pits of his stomach. "Good thing we've sent the best this time."

"I've never heard of either of you before," His father glanced back again, paying no mind to all of the common people he kept bumping into and knocking aside. "What'd you say you two were again?"

"That doesn't concern you," Levi spat, and he even saw the way Mikasa scrunched her face at his sudden hostility. He forced himself to regain his cool.

Mikasa spoke up, voice bleak with professionalism. She added speed to her own steps, taking the lead. "All you need to know is that you have the two best on your side. Don't expect more than that."

"A dainty little princess like you?" Levi's father laughed, with that twinge that was nothing short of insulting. "You look like you'd be better off in the ballet! Jeez, you're too tiny, and too soft for this sort of thing."

Levi was waiting for Mikasa to bust a kneecap, or some act of intimidation to prove her worth. But, to his horror, she actually shrugged her shoulders. "You may be right," With the way he truly glared at the two of them, he was glad he was in the back. Her voice was ethereal and hopeless, like she wanted to appear weak. "I'm still learning, but I'll do my best."

"Instead of learning a man's job, how about you learn something useful to a woman?" The audacity he possessed to reach out his hand and run his fingers through her hair. Levi's fingernails were an inch sunken into his palms. "Put that pretty pussy of yours to work."

She didn't offer any whorish comments, which was to Levi's benefit. This sort of rage had never reached him like this. His anger was unprecedented, and he could only dream of painting these cobblestone streets with his father's brains. With every one of her little giggles, and each of his disgusting gropes at her ass, Levi could only feel himself sink deeper into this hateful pit.

There was nothing virginal about Mikasa Ackerman, and if there was, it was deeply locked away. She knew when to soften her touch, and when to drop her pants, and those were two things that only came with experience. She wasn't pure and below Levi. She was a force to be reckoned with, and a veteran at a game that Levi though only he knew how to play.

With the last semblance of self-discipline that he could ever hope to demonstrate, he forced these thoughts away, and let himself focus on the true task at hand.

This was all going a little to well for Levi's liking. Granted, he wasn't complaining, but he didn't expect this to be so boring.

Aside from the occasional shadow that lingered a little too long on a wall, and an isolated stranger's too-long-for-comfort watchful stare every other mile, this was mind-numbingly boring. It was just one foot in front of the other, walking in silence.

In fact, they were right on the outskirts of the drop-off city, already so close to the bordello's finishing line. And it was that time of night where Levi couldn't tell if it was late, or if it was early, but either way, the quietness was making him stir a little to much. In all of his existence, silence never equated to peace.

Then again, he was an arm's reach from his father, so it wasn't like he was currently on a soul search for peace. And yet, the stillness coming from even his father did not bode will with Levi's instincts.

For the first time this entire mission, they stopped walking. His father pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and lit a match. "Would either of you like one?"

It was rather polite of a gesture, but Levi wouldn't take the bait. "What are you doing stopping here? We are not even a full mile away from your drop-off."

He ignored Levi, extending the pack to Mikasa. "Would the pretty girl like one?"

Levi saw the coldness in her eyes again. Genuine and skeptical, because he knew she felt uneasy too. "I read that smoking isn't good for your respiratory health."

"The pretty girl is literate as well?" He laughed, pocketing his smokes. "It seems that times certainly are changing."

While he wasn't the poster boy for feminism, his father's misogyny started getting kind of old almost ten miles ago. Putting an ounce of faith in Mikasa, he allowed himself to begin strategically mapping out a timeline of how and when he'd put a dagger in his father's throat. All he needed was for Mikasa to sit tight, minimize her predicted freak out, and not do anything disproportionally stupid.

They stood in a street, with no soul to account for. Buildings were on either side of them, shops and homes and modest structures, but not a single light came from a window. No peeping eyes wondering why three hooded strangers were outside.

Uneasiness started to turn into mild panic.

"Baby girl, how about you come stand by me from now on."

Mikasa did not hesitate. She was as cold as ice, and just as hard. "No thank you, sir. I think I'm okay right here."

She was right beside Levi, and Levi was letting his mild panic turn into a more severe degree of panic.

"You'll regret it," Levi's father warned more than threatened.

In the corner of his eye, Levi saw the way she pulled a knife into the space between her index middle finger. Her thumb stroked the length of the blade. She was armed, and she was ready for whatever was about to come next. "I don't regret shit."

"She has a foul mouth," He sighed. "What a waste."

And with that, he lifted his arm, flicking his hand once. With military precision, men appeared from every dark corner and filled the emptiness that Levi was unsettled by. There was one, maybe two, on the rooftop of the buildings, some already at a lethal distance from Levi and Mikasa, but most of them were spread out in the distance. Lining the streets, blocking any chance of escape. Of all shapes and sizes, they all had one thing in common: loaded guns aimed point-blank.

"Still don't regret coming by my side?"

First and foremost, Levi wanted to know why. Why his father did this, what motives he had for staging this entirely elaborate double-crossing. But that could be asked later. In this crucial fucking moment, Levi had to think, and he had to think quickly. He had to choose wisely, because it wasn't just his ass on the line. Mikasa didn't sign up for this, so he wouldn't let her go down for this.

In an attempt to find some sort of calm in this storm, he allowed himself a quick look at Mikasa. Maybe she didn't have a plan either, but she would look poised, and Levi was relying on her zen to force himself into a similar emotional control.

But she looked scared. Like a little girl with ballerina dreams and a loving family and was now braced with the real fucking possibility of death. She wasn't crying, but her jaw trembled and her eyebrows creased and Levi saw the way she closed her eyes for some last sort of prayer or plea or spiritual goodbye.

He failed, and they were about to die for it.

Levi's father stepped closer, one foot at a time, until he could comfortably reach for Levi's cheek. He stroked gently, but there was nothing gentle in his eyes. His voice was as low as the pits of hell. "It was good to finally meet you," He frowned. "My son."

Maybe he couldn't win, but he could buy some time. For Mikasa.

Before the opportunity lost him, Levi dug his only pocket knife into his father's wrist, twisting him around to get a sturdy lock around his neck. "Anybody wanna fuckin' fire," Levi's voice was echoing in the streets. "And it'll have to go through him first."

With a quick scan, none of the men with guns had a precision rifle. Mostly shotguns that could never isolate Levi for a clean kill. In a true act of desperation, he turned for Mikasa, about to tell her to run, but she stepped behind Levi. "Trust me," He heard her breath against his spine.

She threw her knife, but it was upward. Levi wanted to throttle her right there. She was wasting so much valuable time. And he thought this, until a shattering of glass made every person around jump. A streetlight lost its light, darkening the immediate radius of the light post. And she did this again, and then again, and one more time. Four lights were out, and for the most part, they were invisible in the dark. None of the men dared to make a move. Levi and Mikasa were just as dangerous to them, so long as they remained unseen.

It was a botched plan, but with a burst of stupid adrenaline, Levi couldn't think of anything better to do than take Mikasa by the sleeve, and run.

Levi looked at the pinkish tinge of the water. His knuckles never seemed to stop bleeding. It got to the point where he didn't know where his own blood stopped and the water of the bathtub began. The water was already cold, but the innkeeper strictly ordered that there would only be one tub of hot water per person. He thought about stealing Mikasa's ration of hot bath water, but he decided he was reckless and selfish enough for one night

There have been many times where Levi was convinced he was going to die. So many that Levi couldn't remember them all. But he did remember that they were all at the hands of his own doing. He didn't like the word suicide, but it was all a matter of semantics. He remembered all the nights where the liquor never ended and the depression never alleviated. He hated himself.

His father was still out there, and now it was all out on the table regarding their true relationship. Levi had several opportunities, but he never took them. It could have been when his father bent over to tie his shoe, or maybe the very second he put a hand on Mikasa. But he didn't. Levi was weak, and soft, and almost died because he simply couldn't. There weren't many times Levi wished for a do-over, but this seemed to be one of those dramatic moments where he'd really truly go back if he could.

Dull throbbing pulsed in his head like a heartbeat, with just as much fervor, as if it belonged. Levi sat in the porcelain tub of inclement water, feeling the low temperature lowering his heart rate and pricking like needles into his goosebumps. His eyes were hooded, but it burned to close his eyes for anything longer than a blink.

And then he was crying.

It wasn't gross sobbing, but it wasn't as simple as a lone tear running down his cheek. His only flesh and blood was disgusting and scum and deserved to rot, and even then, he tried to kill Levi. He was alone. His family was Commander Erwin, whose camaraderie was conditional. He was utterly alone in this world, with nothing to his name except for a meaningless fortune built on the slaughter of others.

He wiped his face, sinking deeper into the cold water. If only he was an atom. Small and invisible and able to wash down the drain into a dark abyss of nothing. He was nothing. His father tried to kill him because Levi was a weak fucking failure who couldn't beat him to it.

Leaning forward, he fisted his hair, tugging and pulling and letting his breathing run rampant. Even the sound of the echoing sniffles made him hate himself more. Levi gritted his teeth, growling like the filthy animal he was, before letting his vision go dark enough for him to pound his fist into the sold wall again and again. The blood kept flowing.

"Captain Levi," There was a knock at the door. Levi rolled his eyes, wiping away all evidence of true pathetic grief from his face, sinking lower into the tub. He kept going until his collar bones were submerged. "Are you okay? I brought you food."

"Yeah," He said, more to himself. "I'm fine."

After not bothering with anything more than a bar of soap to his underarms, he drained the tub. With a towel around his waist, he opened the door to the bathroom. Right on the floor on the other side, politely on her knees, Mikasa waited patiently. A bowl of rice sat in her lap. Levi saw the way her eyes went straight to his clenched fist. The bleeding finally stopped, but he could only imagine how ugly his knuckles were.

Not even humoring her uncharacteristic act of kindness, Levi walked past her without a second glance. He sat on the edge of the only bed.

She followed him, but he noticed the way she kept her distance. And she didn't seem to think the rice bowl belonged anywhere but her hands. "You were crying."

It wasn't a question, but it wasn't quite an accusation either. Levi was exhausted, and alone. There was no point in refuting the obvious, but he wasn't too lost from his pride to admit anything. "Everyone does.

"Mission failed, he turned on us," She took a cautious step toward him, carefully taking a seat right beside him. They weren't touching, not even close enough to make it feel like it was an option. "We plot revenge, execute, and succeed. Then we move forward."

Levi was so tired. He wanted to sleep and never wake up. He wanted her to touch him. Hug him, rub his arm, even just sit close enough for their thighs to touch. Levi wanted her to force the sobs out of him. "He was my father."

Mikasa took her time with the silence. "I know."

"How?"

"It was more of a guess."

He was just so tired. "He raped my mother. Held her down, while she was still a kid that lived at home. She was, what, fifteen?" So fucking tired. "And my mother always beat the shit out of me when I was a kid, because it is kind of hard to look at living, breathing proof of what happened. Or maybe because she was always high. I could never tell."

There was no attempt at comfort on Mikasa's part. She offered no kind words, or even rude words, no awkward pats of assurance. She was quiet, staring into the rice as if it was the answer to the fucking universe. Levi was ripping at the seams, and she was a foot away from him, and she didn't do anything.

But Levi was so tired. "Then my mom died. I watched her inject the heroin, and let her kick the shit out of me. It made her feel better, and it helped me get enough pity from people to get scrap to eat. It wasn't like she fed me." It hurt to hold his eyes open any longer. "But she seemed to stumble and convulse right when she was really getting into hitting me, and I tried to help her, but she kept screaming for me to never touch her because I was his kid, not hers. She was dying, and she didn't want my help."

Mikasa was a smart girl. She could probably figure out where the rest of this story was leading.

"I'm going to bed," Levi finally said, sliding between the quilt and the mattress. She didn't even say sorry. She didn't say a fucking thing. "Are you joining me?"

She sighed, finally putting that fucking rice bowl on the table. But she didn't slide under the covers, either. "I don't think I'll be doing much sleeping."

"Look, I know we have this fucked up sort of thing going on," She cared. "And I'm the big bad wolf that ripped you out from your real life," She brought him dinner. She had to care. "But pretend I'm tolerable enough," He wanted her to care. "And please just lay with me."

He needed her to.

"No."

Dawns were never peaceful and romantic, the rising sun wasn't majestic, and the stillness of a new morning was not hopeful in the poetic sort of melancholic way.

The truth of the matter was that the curtains weren't thick enough to hide away the brightness of day, and it wasn't even dawn, probably. With the intensity of the humidity building in the room, it had to be closer to midday. Which made Levi feel even worse.

He could barely crack open his eyes, and when he did, he wouldn't let himself look anywhere but the wall directly across the spot in the bed. The wallpaper was a pukey green, with a darkwooden trim, and Levi hated both of those colors separately. His distaste of the combination was unthinkable.

Then again, mostly everything he would soon have to face was unthinkable. Like the day-long ride back to the castle. Reporting to Erwin the results of this mission. Even having a sip of water that would surely burn his chapped lips. Of course there was the whole Mikasa thing. But Levi decided he would try a hand at that water before even thinking her name.

Speaking of flaky, slutty, intimidatingly talented beauties, Mikasa was gone. Levi didn't bother to look away from the puke wallpaper to ascertain if he was even right, but he didn't feel the weight of a body occupying the vacancy beside him, and the room wasn't filling with the sound of her comings and goings.

Except, when he finally paid attention, the room was filled with the sound of something.

Muffled breathing, and low-pitched...grunting?

Without even a beat of hesitation, Levi was off the bed and facing the rest of the room, tired eyes and scabbed fists alive with the readiness to fight to the death.

"What the—" Levi took a careful step around the bed, approaching with slowly increasing confidence.

His father, of all humans on this earth, looked up at Levi from his spot on the ground. There was so much dried blood on his exposed body that Levi wasn't sure if it even belonged to him. His black eye was in its infant stage, and he was gagged in the mouth with cloth that matched his torn shirt. Saliva was trailing down the corner of his lips, a small expanse of his shirt darker than the rest from where it was collecting. His arms were bound behind his back, and his ankles were tied together. The skin of his father's throat was rubbed raw from the twine that kept his neck tied to the archway of the bathroom, and by the look of how deep of a shade of blue his face was, Levi could only guess he was tied there for a while.

But the thing that caught Levi's attention the most was the little stiletto knife that held a piece of paper tacked onto his father's chest, like a nail in a wall.

With whatever little strength his father mustered, he tried to reach for Levi, struggling against the three separate ropes that kept him immobile. Levi, who was still exhausted and past the point of tolerance for his father's bullshit, gave a swift kick to his cheek. It wasn't a lot of power since, after all, he wasn't in the mood for cranial soccer, but enough to force his father to take some time to recover from the brute impact. In this time, Levi ripped the paper from the knife.

Consider this your breakfast in bed.

Levi crumpled up the note, doing something like a smile while he did.

Fuck decent prose. Like, I'm so sorry.