Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Levi got the call at 2:34 am, but when he pulled his car out of its parking bay underneath his apartment building fifteen minutes later no one would have guessed it. He was shaved, clean and his tie was knotted perfectly. When the other detectives were rostered on call overnight they tended to shamble out like the newly-dead, and Levi’s neatness was a source of wonder and occasionally derision.

Levi didn’t dress out of respect for the job, or even respect for the dead, but out of some misbegotten sense of respect for himself. Southport was filthy in more ways than he could count, and he grubbed around in the dirtiest parts of it. But it did not stick, not to him. He could curl his lip in contempt of it while his shirt was unwrinkled and his hair was neat.

It was raining. Not hard, but the swish-clunk of the windscreen wipers threatened to send Levi to sleep again; he hated being woken up by his phone.
It meant bad things. It meant blood and paperwork and crappy coffee at the very least. It meant worse things sometimes, like fishing a four-year-old girl out of the river, or wading through a scrum of reporters to get to work while they shouted at him, asking why he hadn’t found whoever had thrown said four-year-old girl off the bridge like a sack of garbage. Tonight neither of these things looked likely at least.

Multiple homicide, they’d told him, but they didn’t say how many victims, which meant it was very multiple, but Levi knew the district and he doubted many of the dead were going to be missed.

He lowered the window and lit a cigarette in lieu of stopping for coffee. Regulations prohibited smoking in police cars, but it was his damn car, and no one was going to chip him over it. The nicotine was like a slap in the face and the fine, cold raindrops that slanted in, whipped against his cheek by the slipstream, were like tiny needles against his skin. The city smelled like a greasy wet dog, but when did it not?

Levi was thirty-four, still a corporal and unlikely to make sergeant any time soon unless he did something so spectacular it would have embarrassed the department not to promote him. He felt closer to fifty-four, especially on nights like this.

He found himself driving to Oakshott Lanes, and soon he was among mouldering tenement blocks, were landlords and employers didn’t ask for ID, where hope and happiness were chemical. Gentrification was decades away. He'd grown up in Southport, and there were few streets that weren't familiar to him. He navigated with ease to the nondescript street enlivened by the flashing blue lights strobing over the sagging apartment buildings that flanked it.

Uniformed police were waiting for him.

He parked next to a patrol car, probably blocking its exit but he'd be leaving long before they would.

An officer came to meet him, her radio buzzing unintelligibly and water dripping off her spray jacket and cap.

“Hange here yet?” Levi asked her as he stepped out of his car. The officer didn’t look happy about having drawn the short straw to stand outside in the rain and keep away the non-existent crowds, but the corner of her mouth quirked derisively at Levi’s question.

“No, sir,” she said.

“Hange has been contacted, haven’t they?” Hange was famous for all the wrong reasons, and it was probably not a compliment that they and Levi had been assigned each other in the first place. It wouldn't be the first time someone had 'accidentally' made things harder for them.

“Don’t know, detective.”

He wasn't going to get a helpful answer either way, he could tell. Levi was too smart, too clean, and he didn’t play politics. There was also a persistent rumour that he was gay, which pissed Levi off no end. As far as he was concerned it was immaterial that it was true.

Hange was too noisy. That was the short explanation at least; the long one would have filled a book.

Levi frowned and stomped off, pulling out his phone and dialling, taking the shortest route across the street to get out of the rain.

“Hange!”

“I’m on my way, Levi.” Their voice sounded like it was coming from underwater; once Hange got going they were inexhaustible, but they took a while to wake up on these occasions. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

He hung up and headed inside.

The first clue that this building wasn’t all it appeared to be was the reinforced steel door at the entrance. It wouldn’t hold off a determined assault indefinitely, but it would keep someone out long enough to mount a counter-attack or escape. No self-respecting meth lab was without one.

This one had been bludgeoned aside. Levi broke stride and looked at it for a few seconds before heading in.

He could smell the faint reek of cordite on the air, and something richer and meatier that when mixed with the ubiquitous damp was nauseating. Still, Levi knew it could have been much worse. The hallway was full of cops. The medical examiner wasn’t even there yet. Everyone was busy, or at least looking busy, putting up tape and talking into their radios.

They stepped aside to let Levi pass.

The appearance of Officer Ral was the first good news Levi had received since he’d woken up. Almost everyone underestimated her because she was short and pretty, but she was good at her job and wouldn't bullshit him.

They'd been in uniform together, and she smiled when she saw Levi, although she looked pale and stressed.

“Sorry to get you out of bed, detective,” she said politely. When Levi was close enough to accept a pair of latex gloves from her she added in a lower tone, “It's pretty bad in there. It's like they had a whole gang war in one room.” She didn't look all that upset, however; the Southport police were forever cleaning up after the gangs, and no one lost a lot of sleep over a few dead hoodlums.

“I see. So who called us?”

“A neighbour.”

“This isn't a neighbourly area.”

“Yes, well gunfire’s not unusual here and is rarely reported, but there was a lot of gunfire about an hour and a half ago. Some old lady's nerve snapped. By the time we got here the door was busted open and, well, see for yourself.” She led him down a corridor lit with overhead fluorescent lights. At the end a door was hanging off its hinges, having been kicked in, and beyond it was a scene of utter destruction.

The room was quite large and housed a bar and a pool table. A large flat-screen TV was hanging on the wall, permanently silenced by gunfire. There were tables and chairs scattered about and knocked over and it looked rather like a down market bar.

It was your standard boarding house for thugs; somewhere they could crash or lie low. There was nothing to indicate which of Southport's gangs owned this particular establishment, but given the area Levi suspected it was the Titans; they dealt mostly in drugs and people and had little power politically. They were bottom level predators; they might take your life, but they were unlikely to cost you your job.

“We've been through the whole floor,” Petra said. “There are bedrooms further on, and a kitchen, but no survivors.”

Levi only glanced around the room for now, taking in the bullet holes in the wall next to the door, and the furniture upturned in what had to have been a swift and terrible battle.

Levi counted three corpses, and a lot of blood soaking into the carpet. All male, all armed, or had been when they died. Some of the victims had tried to take cover behind the furniture. Levi's expression didn't change as he looked around the room. He didn't see these corpses as people, as lives ended, he couldn't afford to. When he worked he placed himself in a strange mental space in which emotions were muted to better observe and consider the facts.

Sometimes it was hard to snap out of it at the end of the day, but this day was only beginning and he needed every scrap of detachment he could muster.

Levi frowned and prowled about the room, while Petra paid close attention to every move he made and kept out of his way. He was looking at the broken TV, having picked his way carefully around the blood-soaked patches of worn carpet when Hange arrived.

“Holy fuck, look at all of this,” they said, something approaching a kid-in-a-candystore expression on their face as they stood in the doorway. They had their bag over their arm and two styrofoam cups of coffee in their hands, the reason why they were delayed.

“You think it was just a fight with a rival gang?” Petra asked.

Levi frowned. He hadn’t heard of anything brewing recently, and he'd never seen a firefight that had been so one-sided either, although the victors may well have taken any of their casualties with them.

“I see a lot of guns,” he said. “And a lot of bullet holes,” he gestured at the wall next to the door. “No bullet wounds, just from a casual inspection.”

“Really?” Hange took a sip from the cup in their left hand, grimaced and took a sip from the one in their right. “This one's yours,” they said to Levi, offering him the first cup. He didn't move.

“You can have them both,” he said. “Now that you've slobbered in them.”

Hange grinned. “Well, if you insist.”

Levi turned away from them. “I could be wrong, but from a superficial look at all this blood, these guys were carved up, not shot.” Levi stood over one of the corpses, looking down at the deep slash marks that went right through the man's leather jacket. He could see meat glistening in the gaps.

“They brought swords to a gun fight and won,” Hange said. “Maybe these guys are yakuza.”

“Maybe you're still dreaming, Hange. Drink your fucking coffee and get your gloves on.”

They found a fourth corpse near the bar, half buried under a broken table. The medical examiners arrived and the room lit up as they took dozens of photographs. Levi got out of their way; there wasn't much for him to do here at this point.

Levi and Petra talked to the sullen old woman who'd called the police at the first place, but it was clear very few people were going to admit to knowing or hearing or seeing anything. She claimed she didn't even know who lived at the crime scene. She looked like she regretted her panicked phone call.
Petra accompanied Levi back to his car when he left the crime scene. Dawn was starting to streak the sky between the buildings, and the clouds had broken up. Levi felt greyed out in the pre-dawn light.

“You know where to find me if there's anything more you need, detective,” Petra said.

“Yeah. Good to see you again.” He pretended not to notice the slight disappointment in her gaze.

Levi knew Petra was probably more invested than she should have been in disbelieving the gossip about his sexuality. So invested, in fact, that he'd considered outing himself to her more than once. In the end it hadn't mattered; he'd made detective and they didn't see as much of each other any more. She shouldn't even have been here, and it was to her credit that she was. She had the sort of sweet nature and good looks that doubtless saw her offered positions in public relations. That she hadn't taken them was something she'd once quietly admitted was all Levi's doing. She'd wanted to follow his example. At times like this, Levi felt vaguely guilty about it.

It didn't take the lab long to identify the bodies; all four victims had records, mostly drug related, with the odd assault thrown in. As Levi had suspected, they were low-level Titan muscle. In another city, this event might have provoked comment and a task force, but in Southport the slicing up of a roomful of low-level criminals barely made the morning papers, and only then because the murder weapon was so unusual.

There wasn't much interest from Levi's colleagues either. The general consensus was that it was 'gang related' which covered practically everything that wasn't a domestic dispute or a serial killer, and only the latter was cause for real concern. The victims were not to be missed, and Levi knew his colleagues would be clearing as much work as possible off their books by attributing it to the dead men.

Levi spent the day delving into the sordid personal lives of the deceased and contacting their families. He found a handful of recalcitrant and monosyllabic ex-girlfriends, a couple of tired parents unsurprised by the bad news he had to give them, and a long list of criminal acquaintances he knew he'd could spend a year fruitlessly tracking down. None of these people were going to talk to the cops.

Levi didn't care about the dead personally; the world was probably a marginally brighter place now they were no longer in it, and their life expectancy hadn't been great to start with, but he worked through the evidence diligently and meticulously anyway. Because it was his duty. Because it was something that should be done. Every murder victim that crossed his desk was entitled, he believed, to his full and thorough attention.

And besides, even if everyone else had dismissed this case as business as usual for the street gangs, Levi's instincts told him otherwise. When he and Hange left the building that evening, after a long and fruitless day going through reports and police records, Hange asked him what he thought.

“I don't think it's fucking yakuza, if that's what you're asking,” he said, pausing and shielding the flame with his cupped hands as he lit a cigarette.

“You think it's personal?”

“I think unless the labs give us gold we're probably not going to find out,” he said. “No witnesses, no clear motive. There was five thousand dollars worth of cash on the victims, so it wasn't a robbery or even disguised as one.”

“You're interested,” Hange said. “I can tell because you've got that constipated look on your face.”

“Go fellate a sewer outlet, Hange,” Levi said, without inflection. Being interested in a case was a pain in the arse; it merely meant he'd end up bringing it home with him, and have no bearing on whether or not he'd make any progress.

Hange grinned and they went their separate ways in the parking lot.

It occurred to Levi, not for the first time, that Hange was probably his best friend. And wasn't that a cheery thought to go home on.

Their case was not high priority, and the lab reports started to trickle in over the next few days. Hange handled those, while Levi went and visited his contacts. One of his best sources of information was a semi-professional snitch named Mike whom Levi had known for years.

They met at the usual spot, a short distance from a cafe overlooking Southport's crowded and dirty harbour. It was out of their way for both of them but Mike liked good coffee, and he appreciated the fact that Levi did as well. Levi hated the distressed furniture and the hipster kids this place always employed, but the coffee here was almost worth the money he paid for it and even if the scenery wasn’t nice at least it was a change from the usual.

Mike was waiting for him when Levi emerged, leaning against the railing and looking at the shipping, the oily breeze ruffling his unkempt hair. Levi carried over their drinks, winding his way through the trendy young things playing with their tablets and soaking up the watery sunshine. Mike was tall and scruffy and handsome in a rumpled way and it was hard to guess his age. Over the years Levi had observed him live a life on the borderline. Sometimes criminal, sometimes straight, sometimes homeless, sometimes housed, sometimes fucked up and sometimes clean. He was too smart to stay down and out for too long at a stretch, however. And then there was his nose.

It had taken Levi a few years to learn to trust it, but Mike could smell trouble long before anyone else caught on. It explained his longevity.

Mike dug his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket and accepted the drink. Levi tried not to let their fingers touch; he could see the dirt under Mike's fingernails.

“Been a while,” he said, taking the top off and inhaling some of the steam.

“Yeah. How's things?” Levi asked, out of some vague sense of politeness. They both knew Mike's business was none of Levi's.

“Shit. Don't have a car right now.” If that was the worst he could complain about, things could have been a lot worse.

Mike of course had heard about the killings, even if it wasn't from the paper. When Levi asked him about them he sipped his coffee and shrugged.

“Well, no one's got a fucking clue who did it. No one's claimed responsibility; the gangs were talking but nothing came of it. Doesn’t look like anyone’s decided to take it personally.”

“Someone new?” Levi suggested.

“Yeah, well maybe, but why? Why kill those four guys and take off again? They were nobodies; it’s been two days and hardly anyone can remember their names. That's not how you carve out some turf. In Southport, that ain't gonna impress no one.”

“So basically you don't have shit.”

“Neither do you,” Mike pointed out. “But I came all the way out here-”

“You got your coffee. If you have hard info you get money, otherwise you're just entertaining me.”

“Huh.” Mike looked out over the harbour. “Those guys weren’t important, and people like them die for stupid reasons every day. Maybe one of them forgot to pay their dry cleaning bill or something. Thanks for the coffee.” He raised his cup, “Don't be stranger.”

At this point Levi would normally leave. Mike didn't have anything to sell this time, and knew better than to pretend he did to Levi. Still Levi hesitated, shifting his jaw.

“What does your nose tell you?” he asked eventually.

Mike looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you'd decided that was all bullshit.”

“It is,” Levi replied. “But I want to hear it anyway.”

Mike inhaled deeply, although all Levi could smell was diesel and salt and garbage drifting up from the harbour and he bent his head over his coffee.

“Whatever this is,” Mike said. “It ain't over yet. Not by a long way.”

Levi wished he hadn't asked; it was just the kind of soothsaying that was no use at all. “You're meant to be an informant, not a fucking fortune teller. Until your nose starts giving me names and addresses it's still bullshit as far as I'm concerned.”

“Sure,” Mike said amiably. “But if it's worth nothin' to you I ain't bothering next time.”

Levi reluctantly gave him fifty dollars, just to ensure he'd show up next time. Mike just nodded, without saying thank you, and then asked for a lift to the nearest bus stop. He mustn't have been kidding about lacking a car.

“Have you even showered this week?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. Day before yesterday I think,” Mike replied.

Levi shook his head. “You can walk.”

Mike sighed deeply and Levi left him standing there, still solemnly slipping his coffee.

“Please tell me you found something interesting,” Levi said, when he returned to the office. Hange was at their computer. It was hard to tell if they'd been working or not; Hange's desk was always a mess.

“You didn't have any luck?” they asked, looking up from the screen as Levi sat down.

“No.”

“Well. You were right. They haven’t done full autopsies yet; apparently the morgue's gridlocked this week, but I did harass them until I got their preliminary reports, and you were right; no bullet wounds. They were all carved up.”

“Murder weapon?” Hange had stacked a neat pile of files in Levi’s in-tray, the only portion of his desk they were allowed to touch, and Levi started going through them.

“A big knife with a straight edge. They’ll have more later. So far, it looks like whoever killed them didn’t leave anything behind. No stray hairs or blood.”

“That’s a lot of bullets to dodge.” Levi frowned and leafed through the photographs of the crime scene. He’d seen a lot of ones that were similar, but there was something odd about this one. “What about the door?”

“Knocked in with a couple of blows; they must have been prepared for it and brought a battering ram or something.”

“But why? Why go to all the effort? What were this lot doing that got them killed?”

“Dealing drugs, apparently. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“And no one saw them leave after all the gunfire?”

“Uniform aren’t getting jack out of the neighbours. They can’t wait for us to clear out and let things get back to normal. Apparently they were all watching TV real loud that night and didn’t hear or see anything after the shots.”

Levi wasn’t surprised.

Levi realised they were being watched. An officer he didn’t recognise was hovering around, looking at Hange.

“What the fuck do you want?” Levi said, knowing exactly why the man was there.

“Ah, just finding my way around, detective.” He withered under Levi’s glare and edged out again. Hange didn’t appear to notice the exchange.

Levi knew what it was. Hange was the local tourist attraction, although they pretended they didn't notice.

The force had written into their rules a whole lot of garbage about inclusive policing, and no one had given a rat’s arse about it until Hange showed up. Hange knew all the regulations like the back of their hand, and Levi had to admit he sort of admired their determination, in the same way he admired salmon jumping upstream into the mouths of bears. He honestly didn’t know what had driven Hange to join the force, or what unearthly strength of will kept them there.

When he’d received the memo, the day before Hange was transferred in and assigned to him, he’d rolled his eyes so hard he’d nearly strained something. Then he followed it to the letter with neither sarcasm nor self-consciousness.

Hange had noticed Levi was getting their pronouns right a day or two after they'd started working together.

“I see you read the memo,” they began. There was a rehearsed quality to their speech. “If you have any questions you want to ask, now’s a good time.”

Levi had looked up from his screen without expression. “Just one,” he said. “Is there still a desk under there or did someone accidentally upend a skip in the middle of the office?”

“Huh?”

“Maybe you work better surrounded by landfill, but if any of that mess migrates anywhere near my desk, it’s getting shredded; I don’t care if it’s evidence they faked the moon landings. You understand?”

“Yes boss,” Hange said. And grinned.

That was almost, but not quite, the end of it. Hange heard the rumours about Levi as well, although they were far less connected to the grapevine than Levi himself was.

“You know, if you ever need to vent-”

“I don’t discuss it,” Levi said curtly. From that point on they understood each other, and even if their careers didn’t exactly soar they got on as well as could be expected.

The autopsy reports trickled in the following week. The only thing that was of interest was that one of the victims had been shot and patched up again somewhere from six months to a year prior, although there was nothing in the man’s official health records about it. It wasn’t unusual; gunshot wounds tended to attract questions in a hospital.

Then somebody knifed a pretty blonde woman who hosted a gardening show on one of the local TV networks and in the weeks that followed, during which the department did eventually establish that yes, it was her ex-boyfriend and not the mysterious man in the grey hoodie who had attacked her, the gangland killings got buried further in the pile of work.

Levi knew that the trail had probably been cold for weeks, and it was likely to remain on the books indefinitely.

Assuming that Mike’s nose was wrong, of course. Levi couldn’t quite convince himself that it was.

Chapter Text

Nearly a month later, Levi found himself diverted from the office directly to a crime scene first thing in the morning. He stopped at a set of traffic lights and glanced over at a newspaper stand. On the front page was a large picture of a large man, or at very least a fat one.

BALTO SLAIN IN HOME, was the headline in thick, official capitals.

The corner of Levi's mouth curled up slightly. It was a nice day, he reflected, perfect for someone who deserved it to bite the dust. When the lights changed Levi stepped on the accelerator and flung his car around the corner with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary.

Southport was built around the harbour. The two arms of the harbour were known as South Shore and North Point, and the views from both these places ensured one had to be very, very rich to live there. Today, Levi was going to South Shore.

Eric Balto had been a big fish in this pond, and far beyond the reach of the law. He played politics and attended charity dinners, but within the 'robber baron' jokes told to polite laugher over the clinking of silverware lurked the truth; the casinos he owned laundered half the dirty money in the state, and the cheap toys he scattered about for the TV cameras every Christmas like birdseed were made in sweatshops by illegal labourers. He got nasty when crossed, but never dirty. His lawyers and his money and his connections kept him above such burdensome and tiresome things as the rule of law.

At least until today.

There was no way Levi would be put in charge of this investigation. It would have to be handled tactfully and carefully, but given the importance of Balto to Southport, and the importance of his neighbours doubtlessly disturbed by the number of police cars parked on their street this fine Tuesday morning, a show would be made of 'putting our best officers on the job.'

Levi rarely went to this part of town. Huge mansions hidden behind electric gates and high fences lined leafy, quiet streets. There wasn't a house here worth less than a million dollars. Balto's monstrosity was easy to spot. Its gates were wide open and the driveway, photographed so often for the society pages, was swarming with police and lab techs in overalls taking photographs of everything.

The street was jammed. The line of uniformed police keeping back the cameras broke to let Levi's Ford through. Someone even took a picture of him. Fuck knew why. But there wasn't much else to make note of. This neighbourhood was too polite, and too scared of having its photo taken gawking to come out to watch, but Levi could feel the attention being paid through curtained windows and security cameras to the slow-moving drama being played out.

The ambulance had been and gone. The wife had been whisked away behind tinted glass to be gently questioned in private.

Hange was waiting for him with coffee.

“Nice day,” they said idly.

“Indeed.”

“So what happened?” Levi asked, while they waited for orders. In these kinds of big operations you were either without anything to do or rushed off your feet; he would make the most of the former while it lasted.

“Someone climbed the wall,” Hange said. Said wall was eight feet of sheer brick, with broken glass cemented into the top and they both paused to look at it with respect. “Busted open the reinforced steel shutters on Balto's study and stuck a knife in his ample stomach sometime after five forty-seven this morning, which is when Balto hit his panic button.”

“Reinforced steel?” Levi raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. They've put an APB out on a 300 pound gorilla,” Hange joked. “It looked like it was torn off, not prised loose.”

“Was the wife home at the time?”

“Yeah, but she'd taken her pills the night before. Slept through the whole thing, apparently.”

“Huh.”

“I have papers! I am not illegal!” a woman's voice raised in protest from somewhere in side the house cut their conversation short.

“That's the housekeeper,” Hange said. “She's been hysterical ever since I arrived. She thinks we're gonna deport her.”

“If she is illegal we probably will.”

“Mister Balto was a good man, a good man!”

Hange shrugged, “That's all she's saying. They're not keen to let her go in case she just vanishes.”

“Tch. What a way to treat a witness,” Levi said. Hange smiled at him as he finished his coffee and ran his hand over his hair.

“I'll take that, boss,” Hange accepted his empty cup. “Good luck.”

Levi didn't acknowledge the gesture. He headed inside, following the sounds of weeping.

The house was huge. Levi made his way through immaculately kept rooms, over wooden floors so polished it was like walking on a mirror, past elegant vases in which yesterday's flowers still smelled fresh, and past walls lined with an eclectic and yet oddly tasteful collection of modern art.

He left these richly appointed rooms behind and found himself in a huge kitchen, in which a uniformed police officer was trying to give the housekeeper a cup of coffee, and talking gently to her.

The housekeeper was a middle-aged woman with a careworn face. Levi looked her once over, taking in the ring on her finger, the state of her clothes, and the faint smell of floor polish that clung to her.

The officer was looking rather fed up with her theatrics. The housekeeper sounded like she was crying, but no tears were falling from her eyes, although she kept making passes at them with a handkerchief.

“Hey,” Levi said. “Go get one for yourself. I'll take it from here.”

The officer nodded her thanks, looking relieved to be going.

The housekeeper looked at Levi warily.

“I'm not illegal,” she said. “I have papers.”

Levi tilted his head to the side a little and shrugged. “Of course you do.” He walked over and crouched down beside her, rather than taking the other chair, so he could look into her face. He sounded different too; he probably couldn't have fooled her anyway, but he let his inflection slip a bit further, back towards the street he'd come from, his vowels flattening slightly.

Normally Levi wore the fuck off dead eyed stare that any cop who'd worked in Southport for too long started to develop, but now he made his expression soften slightly. Rather than assert his authority he deferred to her instead.

“Okay,” she said, sniffing a little, keeping up appearances even as she eyed Levi off.

“You'll be okay, ma'am.” Levi said. “Mrs Balto likes your work doesn't she?”

“Well, I hope so. Maybe this house will be too big for her.”

“I wouldn't worry about that,” Levi said dryly. He saw a little smile on the housekeeper's face in response. He knew what she saw, what he wanted her to see, a young tough made good, a neat, tidy man who deferred to his mother. Levi had never known his real mother, but in women like this one he saw echoes of her, just as they saw echoes of sons they'd never had, or the son they'd hoped their sons would be. “What's your name?”

“Rose,” she said.

“I'm Levi.” He handed her his card. “You can call me if you need to, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, what happened? You were here when Mister Balto died, weren't you, ma'am?” Levi took out his notebook.

“Y-yes. He always asks me to come early, you see. He likes his breakfast before six. He works very hard. He's a good man. Was a good man.” She pressed her handkerchief to her face again.

“So what happened today?” Levi asked gently.

“ They rang the doorbell ?” Hange asked incredulously. They and Levi were finally back in the office. After Levi’s successful interview with the housekeeper, Levi had offered to drive her home and by lunchtime Levi was entering his report in the database along with all the other witness statements.

“Pressed the buzzer on the intercom at least. Whoever it was, Balto didn’t let them in, but a little while later she said she heard the window being broken and Balto started shouting. She knew he had a panic button so she just locked herself in the pantry and hid until we arrived.”

“Sensible lady,” Hange said.

“Whoever did this, they thought that Balto might let them in.”

“So they knew him personally?”

“Not that personally; he didn't let them in in the end.”

They had a case briefing after lunch, to bring all the detectives up to speed. Some of the neighbours thought they’d heard a motorcycle early in the morning, but no one was entirely sure. For now they were looking for a single individual. Levi spent most of the meeting staring at the photograph of the broken window shutter stuck to the whiteboard with magnetic tacks and wondering what sort of individual could do that.

Balto’s web of contacts was huge, and a lot of them were powerful and had to be handled carefully. Hange and Levi, along with all the others, were given their marching orders.

They spent the afternoon in expensive waiting rooms and expensive offices, talking to the Balto’s business associates, all of whom expressed great shock and surprise that such a highly-regarded citizen could meet such a brutal end.

Levi hated it. He hated these people. Even if most of them weren’t openly criminal, they benefited from the system, the same system that Levi spent his life cleaning up after, sifting through the wreckage of lives making petty moral judgements on those who had little choice. He’d rather have been back in Oakshott Lanes. At least there he could pretend he had moral authority. Here he had to be scrupulously polite and the knowledge that these people had so much unearned power over him rankled.

By evening there were plenty of theories floating about, both within the pages of Southport’s broadsheets and in the police headquarters itself. Levi heard most of them and believed none of them.

He sat at his desk, watching his screen saver as the others collected their coats and headed home for the day.

“You all right, boss?” Hange asked, idly swinging their car keys around one long finger, their coat over their other arm.

“Do you remember that gang killing in Oakshott Lanes a few weeks ago?” he asked.

“Yeah. Haven’t heard anything new about that for a while though.” Hange frowned, “Why? You think they’re connected? One thing Balto wasn’t was friendly with the Titans.”

“They feel similar,” Levi said. “In through the front door, or close to it, with apparently suicidal disregard for any security measures and then there’s the method of killing. Another knifing with a similar weapon, if not the same one.”

“Weren’t we looking for more than one perp though? Do you think one guy could have taken out four armed people?”

“One guy ripped through a steel security shutter,” Levi pointed out.

“Fuck, at this rate you’ll be telling me we’ve got a supervillain on our hands. Or a superhero, depending on how you look at it.”

“Don’t break out the bat signal yet, Glasses. This is just a feeling, but it might be worth looking for a connection. I’ll bring it up at the next briefing.”

“They’re gonna think you’re just looking for some glory, linking your case to theirs.”

“Like I give a fuck what they think. Goodnight, Hange.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

Levi didn’t like getting feelings about cases. They were necessary for those flashes of insight that could make everything fall into place, but they could also be a complete waste of time and energy, and there was no way to tell which it was going to be. It meant he wouldn’t be able to put the case down, that he’d be eating his risotto in front of his computer at home, ploughing through public records. It meant he’d think of nothing else while he cleaned his spotless apartment, or when he lay in bed trying to get the case files behind his eyelids to fade and let him sleep.

As expected, no one thought much of his theory the next day. Well, he didn’t think it was much of a theory either, not yet.

There was some good news at least; blood on the broken glass that lined the top of Balto’s garden wall had yielded a usable DNA sample. Unfortunately, it didn’t match any of their databases; they were sending it off to Interpol but Levi didn't expect it would turn up anything there either. The DNA sample had raised everyone’s hopes and then dashed them again as they started another day of interviews, casting the net a bit wider.

Levi pursued his theory in any spare minutes he could scrape together, but he wasn’t coming up with much. The two crimes seemed almost entirely unconnected, but the more he looked at the autopsy and crime scene photographs the more convinced he became that there was something there.

It put him in a bad mood.

He gazed at the photographs of Balto’s study. The house had been equipped with security cameras, but Balto had valued his privacy, and rather than transmit the images to a private security firm, they were stored on hard drives in the house itself. The latest one had been ripped from the computer, taking the last two months of data with it.

“He’s not entirely stupid,” Levi muttered. He still couldn't quite get over the fact that someone had the sheer brass balls to break into the house of one of the most powerful men in Southport after knocking on the front door.

It looked like a half-hearted attempt had been made to search the study, but again nothing had been stolen. Balto had nearly eight hundred dollars in his desk and another twelve thousand in the untouched safe in the wall. There was no blood inside the house, however, other than Balto’s. Maybe the killer brought a spare pair of gloves.

Levi received an invitation from Erwin to go out for a drink after work that Friday evening. Levi felt obligated to go. Erwin always made him feel obligated, and even if it wasn’t entirely Erwin’s fault, Levi knew he was aware of it and didn't exactly mind that Levi felt obligated. Theirs was a strange relationship; Levi hesitated to call it a friendship.

They met in the usual place, a quiet, expensive establishment called Bar Sina. It was a short distance from the courthouse and as usual was full of lawyers. Levi felt a bit like a goat at wolves’ convention. But, the drinks were good and Erwin would always pay.

Erwin was already there when he arrived. Levi could see the dim overhead lighting reflecting off his blonde hair and he joined him at his little table. It, like all the others, was designed for private conversations, the background noise just a dull murmur under the jazz playing quietly from the speakers near the bar. Erwin signalled the barman when Levi arrived, and his tequila, neat, was brought over directly. Lime and salt were for people with too much time on their hands. Erwin had long ago given up trying to improve Levi's taste in alcohol.

“Balto, hm?” Erwin greeted him. “I hate to see so much work go to waste.” Erwin was a public prosecutor, and he had a thing for lost causes. Levi hadn't known he'd been chasing Balto's tail, but the news didn't surprise him.

“Be realistic,” Levi said taking a seat. “You never would have got him.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Erwin muttered. That was probably some sort of awfully smart quote that he learned at his awfully smart school. There was so much to hate about Erwin, but Levi couldn’t quite manage it. He was just the right mix of saintly and completely amoral that left Levi grudgingly agreeing with him more often than not. “A toast then,” Erwin suggested.

“To the dead?” Levi asked.

“To hell,” Erwin said. “May those who deserve it rot there.”

“Are you sure that doesn’t include you?” Levi asked.

“I’m sure it does,” Erwin said.

“Good enough.” Levi raised his glass. The liquor went down nicely, and these days Levi didn't feel the need to follow it up with another five or six. Not as much as he used to, anyway.

“So which of Balto’s many enemies finally got sick of his fat face?” Erwin asked.

“We don’t have a fucking clue,” Levi said. “We’re checking alibis on all the usual suspects, but it's just guesswork so far unless one of the witnesses remembers something more useful.”

“By that pout of yours I’d say you’d rather they try another line of enquiry.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. Erwin always rubbed it in that he could read him no matter how carefully he schooled his face.

“I don't have any idea who did it, I just have this feeling that he's struck before, whoever he is.” Erwin would just needle him until he shared his opinion, and Levi didn't really feel like being cross-examined on a Friday night, so he told Erwin his half-baked theory while he ate boiled peanuts from a bowl in the centre of the table. He realised he was hungry and he wanted to do something with his hands. Erwin hated the smell of smoke, and thus Levi only smoked in his presence when he was really annoyed.

“So do you think he'll do it again?” Erwin asked.

That was the real question, wasn't it?

“If he does it might indicate my theory isn't so fanciful. But I hope he doesn't.”

“Oh, why?”

“Because the last thing Southport needs is another fucking serial killer. You remember what happened last time. The crank calls, the fake confessions, the half-arsed copycats. Besides, even if it is the same guy, it might be a professional rather than a nutter.”

Levi didn't think it was either, not exactly. Maybe a nutty professional. He refused to countenance superhero, even though the word had been floating in the back of his brain ever since Hange had uttered it.

“You really want to find him,” Erwin said, regarding Levi thoughtfully.

“Of course I do. If he exists he's killed four people at least.”

“Some would argue those people deserved it.”

“No one has the authority to argue that.” Levi stopped shelling peanuts for a moment and thought. “Still, we could be looking at a vigilante. Balto's potentially hurt hundreds of people in his time, but the original victims were far less powerful.” Now there was an angle he could work on; he knew the first set of victims were suspected of several crimes.

Levi finished his drink and pushed his chair back.

“Thanks, for once the conversation's been-” he cut off as Erwin snaked a long arm across the table and caught his wrist. “What? You want to ask me on a date?”

Now it was Erwin's turn to look unamused. “You're not my type.”

Levi just glared at him, and Erwin released his wrist.

“Levi, it's Friday night. This is a murder case not a kidnapping; they're not going to get any more dead. I'm sorry I brought it up, so sit down. Order something more substantial to eat; you don't have to sift through peanut shells like a Portside Park squirrel.”

Levi sat down again, while Erwin waived over a waiter to order more drinks and something to eat.

“We should discuss something other than work,” Erwin said.

“Like what?” Levi asked. Erwin had about as much of a home life as Levi did; probably less, as he spent his spare time cultivating contacts for his eventual ascension to District Attorney. Levi wasn't actually sure how far Erwin's ambitions extended, but it wouldn't have surprised him if the Supreme Court was on his list eventually if he didn't end up in politics.

They stared at each other in dissatisfied silence. Erwin broke first, and he shook his head with a rueful smile.

“Well, this is a little depressing. How's Hange?”

“Still breathing.”

“Been to the gym lately?”

“Not really. How's the family?”

“Still disappointed.” Erwin came from serious money, and his family had spent the last ten years wondering when he was going to get sick of public service and start seriously adding to it. He treated them like he treated all his other political allies, but no better than that.

Levi didn't know, had never known, where he now fitted into Erwin's plans. Erwin himself claimed that he didn't fit at all, that he was a true friend, nothing more and nothing less.

They'd met over ten years ago, when Erwin had been a preppy college student out on a night on the town and Levi had been ...something else. Levi had taken one look at him, his slightly drunken gait, the cut of his clothes, his watch, and followed him for fifteen minutes until he turned down a quieter street. Then Levi had sauntered up to him, shown him his blade and asked for his wallet. It should have been easy.

To his utter surprise, Erwin hadn't given it to him. To this day Levi didn't know how drunk Erwin really was, but rather than being cowed by the knife, he'd practically hurled himself at Levi and fought with the fierceness of a tiger and the coordination of a baby elephant. Levi could have taken him apart without breaking a sweat and as it was he'd ended up putting the knife back into the back pocket of his jeans just to avoid causing Erwin a serious injury. He hadn't understood it; this fearless idiot giant with a bloody nose and a terrible right hook who just kept coming no matter how many times Levi knocked him down.

“Do you want me to fucking kill you?” he'd snarled in the end, slightly panicked.

Erwin had stopped, swaying slightly, and looked at him thoughtfully. “No,” he said carefully, with the dignity of the truly hammered. Headlights had swept the end of the road they'd been scrapping in the middle of and Levi was obliged to yank his would-be victim out of the way before he got himself run over. He'd swayed and stumbled and Levi walked him to the curb.

“Call a taxi, and go to emergency or something,” he muttered, grimacing at the blood being smeared on his jacket.

Erwin was still sitting in the gutter at his feet when a squad car cruised by. Of course they stopped and Levi started to look for an escape route.

“Are you all right, sir?”

“I fell down a lotta steps,” Erwin waved his hand vaguely. “We're waiting for a taxi.”

They weren't entirely convinced. Levi folded his arms to hide his bruised and bloodied knuckles and gave them the blank stare he gave all cops. He didn't know why this guy was covering for him, but he'd find out later.

“They probably thought I was your dealer,” Levi said once they'd left.

Erwin was gingerly mopping up the blood on his face with a handkerchief. Levi could see his initials embroidered on the corner. He stopped and gave Levi a surprisingly hard look, “Do you deal?” he asked.

“If I did I wouldn't need to mug people, would I?”

“So why don't you?”

“Because I like scaring the crap out of people like you,” Levi sneered. “And I hate junkies. Now call that fucking taxi before the cops come back.”

“Nope, I'm not done yet. I lost my friends. We have to find them.”

“What do you mean 'we'?” Levi had asked. But it had been too late. He'd have spent Erwin's money on booze anyway, and he found himself dragged off and bought drinks and they never found Erwin's friends in the end. Levi had woken up smelling and feeling absolutely disgusting, sitting on the kitchen floor of Erwin's apartment. He didn't remember giving Erwin his number, but somehow he had it and Erwin called him up next time he wanted to celebrate the end of a school week. It was free booze; Levi didn't mind.

And then Isabel and Farlan had drunkenly wrapped their stolen car around a telephone pole and the only reason Levi hadn't been with them was because he'd been sleeping off a hangover, and he turned up on Erwin's doorstep one afternoon because he had no one else to go to.

“I'm sick of this,” he'd said.

Erwin didn't look surprised. “You finish high school?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a record?”

“I'm clean,” Levi said. “I'm not stupid.”

“You'd make a good cop,” Erwin said.

Levi snorted.

“You've got an eye for detail, you're clean, and you're not stupid. And I'll help.”

It was such a ridiculous idea Levi went along with it, and by the time he was sworn in he was wedded to the idea.

He'd asked Erwin about it later, what he thought he'd been doing.

“Why'd you have so much faith in me?” He frowned, “This isn't some shitty love thing, is it?”

Erwin had thrown his head back and laughed and laughed, although he'd sobered up quickly when he saw the sheer relief on Levi's face. It hadn't been a conversation Levi had been looking forward to.

“It was an experiment. I'm glad it turned out well for you,” he added stiffly, and refused to be drawn further. He'd probably been telling the truth, Levi thought later; working out his own ideas about crime and punishment and justice independently from his lecturers and tutors. Levi wondered if there were other experiments out there, and if they'd fared as well as he had.

He'd never asked.

And he'd never managed to shake the feeling that Erwin had made him somehow. That he was obligated.

Chapter Text

In the end Levi followed Erwin's advice and did his best to put work out of his mind until Monday, with some success. He was already at work when Hange arrived Monday morning, searching through the police databases.

“Come on,” he said, just as Hange had sat down at their desk. “We’re going to to talk to some people.”

The college kid who’d been mugged. The store owner who’d been held up. He even tried tracking down a couple of the dead men’s customers, but they had no reason to talk to cops. None of them were happy, but oblique questioning didn’t turn up anyone thirsting for revenge in Levi’s opinion either.

“What is this all about?” Hange asked, when they were on their way back.

Levi told them.

“You still think the two cases are linked then?”

“Yeah.” Levi wound down the window and fished around for a cigarette. “On the bright side, if I’m right, I think this guy is going to strike again.”

“An awful lot of people get stabbed in Southport,” Hange said.

“I don’t think he’s in the habit of leaving survivors,” Levi said. “I’ll know it when I see it, I’m sure of it.”

“As you say, boss.”

Levi wasn’t wrong. The next time a Titan safehouse was breached, only one person died. Balto’s murder was still an open case, and the political pressure on the Commissioner to close it was mounting daily. Levi didn’t give a fuck. Once the initial furore had died down, he’d been reassigned back to his previous cases, and since no one took his theory seriously, he was working on them alone with Hange.

When the report of the latest death came in, Levi pounced on it.

“This one’s one of mine.” Eld didn’t argue; he had too much on his plate as it was.

Levi was getting used to this. A secure location cracked open like an egg, and a corpse, or corpses, inside.

“He screwed up this time,” Levi said, pulling up the victim’s police record. “No one was there but this guy who is, by Titan standards, practically clean. We already know he’s not after drugs or cash. Which means someone else is in  great danger.”

“Who?” Hange asked.

“Someone in the Titans’ hierarchy.”

Unfortunately, the police’s knowledge of the Titans’ inner workings was patchy at best. Levi spent a lot of time tracking down known associates and trying to fathom the complex web of relationships that allowed a large criminal organisation to function.

That evening saw him buying Mike drinks in a filthy bar in the middle of nowhere, relatively speaking, because Mike was waiting for a guy who had a car to sell him. Levi had to bend in close to try and hear what Mike was saying over the noise of country and western music, raucous conversation and the endless rattling of slot machines.

“So where the fuck is he, then?” Levi asked.

Mike regarded him dubiously. “I don’t really think it’s good to say. If Father Nick don't want to talk to you, it's best not to bother him.”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even want to question him. I’m trying to save his worthless life, so help me.” If anyone deserved to meet the vigilante's blade it was Father Nick. He wasn't a priest, but his habit of dressing all in black, along with a certain penchant for presiding over people's final moments, had earned him the nickname. Balto was businessman first; he'd wanted to be part of respectable society and paid good money to appear so. Nick didn't care; he wanted to be feared, and he was for good reason. He'd once bitten a man's nose clean off, and the man himself refused to press charges.

He ran a good portion of the Titans' legitimate front businesses, and could easily have delegated the dirty work, but he preferred not to.

Levi was not looking forward to talking to him. The only thin g in his favour was that even Titans hesitated to kill cops on sight.

Mike looked at him. “I was right, wasn’t I? When I said this weren’t over.”

“It was fifty-fifty,” Levi said. “You gonna tell me where he is?”

Mike gave Levi a dubious look, but Levi would not be dissuaded.

“You gonna pay me for it?”

Levi nodded.

“He's holed up in a pawn shop southside, at least that's what I've heard.”

Levi wrote down the address and handed Mike his money. No one paid any attention to the transaction; similar exchanges happened all the time in a place like this.

“What do you mean you’re at home?” Levi asked Hange.

“It’s where normal people go after they finish work,” Hange replied. “I'm not surprised you've never heard of it.”

“How many normal people do you know?” Levi took the exit off the bypass and left the stream of traffic.

“Fair point, boss. Sensible people then.”

“Hange!”

“I’m on my way, I swear. I hope you appreciate I'm missing Game of Thrones for this. Just wait, all right?”

Levi pulled up outside a shuttered second-hand shop. As was usual for these places, there were bars in the window and across the door. The door was now hanging off its hinges.

“Sorry Hange, I can’t do that. Looks like he's already here.”

“Levi-”

Levi hung up, and drew his gun.

When he stepped out of the car, the streets were quiet. At, least, as quiet as they got. This part of town serviced the industrial area, and was too far away from anywhere to have much of a night life. After sundown it was dead, and it wasn’t all that lively to start with. Levi could hear cats wailing somewhere nearby and the evening traffic on the bypass was a dull roar.

He looked around for a motorcycle, but didn’t see one.

He edged over to the open door of the shop, light from the streetlight reflecting icily off the broken glass in on the pavement in front of it. He could hear the sounds of someone opening and shutting drawers from somewhere inside the shop.

He stepped back and reported a robbery in progress, but he didn’t expect backup, or Hange, to make it out here in time to be useful. He eyed the twisted metal frame of the door, and went in.

Levi was not a particularly reckless person. As he saw it, he did what needed to be done, without fear. Everyone was fundamentally the same and to live as a criminal was to live as an animal.  He knew; he’d been there. And animals could be herded and caged, and if you knew them well enough, you could tell when they were going to turn on you. They had to work themselves up, to use emotion to conquer their fear, while Levi’s strength was his ability to move past instinct and emotion and grasp the correct course of action to take.

So he didn’t wait.

“Police! Stay where you are!” he shouted, and ducked in the doorway. The shop was empty and dark. There was a light coming from the back room. No one replied but the noise ceased, and then he heard wood splintering and something snapping followed by shattering glass.

Levi swore and swiftly crossed the room to the doorway hearing muffled movement, thumping and scuffing sounds.

He caught a glimpse of someone dropping down out of the window, and a stray beam of light from the room caught on a pair of green eyes and then they were gone. He could hear a thump from outside and running footsteps.

Levi went after them. He only spared a brief glance at Father Nick. He was sprawled legs splayed and his back against the wall, and he was definitely dead; he'd been smashed into the wall so hard the plaster had fallen off the brick. Levi darted through the office, glancing at the open safe with the untouched money inside. He didn't waste his breath yelling further. He put his gun away, placed one foot on a chair and launched himself up through the window.

He wriggled through like an eel, nearly tumbling out face-first as the last of the window frame splintered away. He managed to catch himself with his hands and swing his legs out.

He could hear rather than see his target running down the alleyway behind the shop, and fuck he was fast. Levi lowered himself on his arms and then let go, landing with a soft grunt in the ankle-deep rubbish behind the shop. It hadn't been particularly graceful, but he hadn't damaged anything.

Levi ran. It had been a while since he'd had to pursue someone on foot like this, but he found he'd almost missed it. This was the essence of what he was, what he'd decided to be when he gave up the doomed business of merely surviving via a knife. He was the dogged pursuer, the conscience for those who had none. He was unappreciated, underpaid, and he didn't care because this was where he deserved to be, where he could do the most good. Adrenaline sang in his bloodstream.

His target vaulted over a skip, apparently effortlessly, and Levi followed grimly, scrambling over the top. He rounded a corner, his foot skidding in some nameless muck in time to see him scaling a chain link fence. Levi gained ground when he realised the chain link was loose and he wrenched it back and squeezed around beside it.

Levi knew he wouldn't be able to catch him, he could only hope he'd run into a dead end. They were in a maze of small alleyways, some untouched for over a century, and others re-purposed, built into and over, and the buildings were a disorganised jumble. It was very dark back here. Levi paused occasionally, tracking his prey by the sound of his footsteps. Levi thought he'd got him when their way was blocked by a wooden wall. Levi couldn't tell if he looked over his shoulder or not, but he turned and charged at the fence, shoulder down and he crashed through it like it was plywood. There was something monstrous about it; something inhuman about his disregard for his own safety and the sheer force he could bring to bear. Levi couldn't understand where he got this strength from. He'd seen people do strange things while they were high, but the focus and control this man exhibited suggested his mind was clear even if he was otherwise chemically enhanced.

Levi heard a burst of noise as a motorcycle engine roared to life nearby. He stumbled out onto the street just in time to see the single tail light swing around the corner.

“Fuck!” It didn't make him feel better.

Breathing heavily, he lit a cigarette and started walking back to the shop to secure the crime scene. He wasn't going to get any sleep early tonight, he could tell.

“Well this is going to be interesting,” Hange said, as Nick's body was taken out on a stretcher. There was nowhere to buy coffee around here, but Levi didn't need any. He felt wired; he hadn't managed to come down from his fruitless pursuit. “If we're not lucky this could start a war.”

“I nearly had him,” Levi growled; he didn't care all that much about gangland politics right then. “He was just too fast. And knew where he was going; just crashed through everything to get back to his bike.”

“And you didn't get a good look at him.”

“Just his eyes. Fuck. You know, I think I've seen them before.” Levi shut his eyes and frowned, summoning up the memory and examining it.

“You know him?”

“I wouldn't go that far. But there was something familiar about them.”

“Maybe it'll come to you. But you were right, this guy's got a vendetta against, well, people like Nick.” Hange grinned, “Maybe he'll put us out of a job.”

Levi frowned. “He needs to be stopped. If I'm right this is the seventh person he's killed. He'd dangerous, Hange.”

Father Nick's death wouldn't be splashed across the papers; his fame was of a different kind, but Levi knew Southport would still be buzzing with the news. Unlike the previous victims, Father Nick had been somebody to the Titans, and his death demanded restitution. Levi could only hope that there wouldn't be too many innocents caught in the crossfire.

If they were, it would partially be his fault.

“So he came here to kill him?” Hange asked, as they walked back inside the pawn shop. They stood in the doorway to the office.

“When I arrived he was going through the drawers on the desk.”

“Balto's office had been searched as well,” Hange pointed out.

“Yeah. He must have gotten disturbed again; Balto hit the panic button and uniform was there within twenty minutes or so. But what could someone possibly be looking for that's in Balto's office and in this place?”

Hange was silent.

Levi looked at them, “Names and addresses for future targets?” he suggested.

“If you're right this guy's not gonna stop. Joking aside, you can't just kill your way to a city without crime. There's no end to it.”

“No,” Levi said darkly. “But I have no proof of any of this. He didn't even use a blade to kill him this time. Unless we're lucky enough to get a matching DNA sample there's nothing to connect this murder with Balto's.”

“Something else is bothering me,” he continued. “He knew Nick was here, and he's not an easy man to find. He's got contacts too, whoever he is. Not everyone he talks to ends up dead.”

“I think you should be grateful for that, boss,” Hange said quietly.

“He's got no interest in fighting us,” Levi said. “Both times he's taken off when arrived.”

“That might be because we haven't come close to catching him yet,” Hange pointed out. Levi frowned at them. “Well, not until tonight anyway.”

“I'm not afraid of him, Hange,” Levi said, turning to go.

The next day, or rather, later the same day, once the sun was officially up even though it wasn't visible through the haze, Levi tried to track down those green eyes. The more he thought about them the more he was convinced he'd seen them somewhere before, and he spent hours trawling fruitlessly through mug shots.

Hange went home at the end of the day.

Levi went to the gym. If he went home it would keep niggling at him and he'd get nowhere. He needed to distract himself, not to think for a while. Get moving.

Levi still went to the gym he'd started attending when he'd joined the force. It was almost exclusively police and ex-police. When he'd first been introduced to the place, Levi had been delighted; finally a place in which he could legally beat up cops. And he did, too. He'd still smelled of the street, and his attitude had won him no friends. His height lulled opponents into a false sense of security.

He found it hard not to fight dirty at first, but in the end he found that he preferred the rules; that made his victories all the more official, and to his defeats he could always apply the balm of knowledge that he could have won if he had to.

He wasn't looking for a fight tonight. He swapped his suit for boxing shorts and left the former folded as neatly as he could in one of the lockers before taping up his hands and tugging on his gloves. He hated wearing gloves but he wanted to exhaust himself, not simply win a street fight, and he'd need them. The place stank of sweat and testosterone; two young officers were rather cautiously and ineptly duking it out in one of the rings, but the place was hardly full.

Levi ignored everyone and warmed up before installing himself at a punching bag. It took him a while to get back into it; before he'd made detective he'd come down here three or four times a week, but now he had to make time, more often than not. This latest obsession had seen him pulling more hours staring at screens than usual.

He knew he was going to feel this tomorrow, but it would be a good feeling. Sore muscles were a sweet kind of pain that he'd carry with him like a secret.

Fuck that brat had been fast. He'd had the long, loping stride of a teenager.

WHAM.

Levi had warmed up enough and put enough force into his next hit that the bag jangled on its chain. That was satisfying. So he did it again.

WHAM.

He still couldn't bust through steel security bars though. It had to be on the edge of what was humanly possible, but whoever had squirmed out the pawn shop window couldn't have been much broader than Levi himself.

He didn't. Want. To think about it.

WHAM WHAM WHAM.

He could feel himself starting to sweat. Good. He lost track of time, losing himself in his own breath and heartbeat, forgetting everything but how he was going to throw his next punch. He was in the zone and he wanted to stay there, push the world back for a while. In moments like this he was free.

Those eyes. He remembered.

Levi held a gloved hand up to still the bag as he stared at nothing, remembering.

“Autopsy report,” he said out loud. That's where he'd seen those eyes, staring and dead. Shit. What did that mean?

He wanted to head back upstairs to his office and find out, but he was drenched in sweat, hungry, thirsty and tired.

But he was triumphant. He pulled his lips back from his teeth in an unpractised smile.

WHAM!

Victory.

The showers at the gym made his skin crawl, but he wasn't going to get into his car, or his suit, like this.

He was standing in front of the locker, doing up the buttons on his shirt when the officer approached. He was built like a brick wall, heavyset features and close cropped blonde hair. He was dressed for the ring, and he rolled his shoulders as he approached.

“You're Levi,” he said.

“Keep that up you'll make detective in no time,” Levi said coldly. He knew this man was trying to be intimidating and he didn't know why, and didn't care. He didn't go looking for grudge matches any more. He was too old for that macho shit.

Besides, he was clearly leaving. If he wanted a fight he'd have to find someone else.

“Nick's death is going to make life harder for us for a while,” the stranger said, idly stretching his neck. He wasn't even looking at Levi directly.

Levi narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“I heard you actually surprised the guy. That's gotta sting, being so close and just missing out, but it was pretty lucky you were even there. I sure hope you catch the guy, for his sake, before the Titans find him.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Levi said, turning to face him finally. He hadn't stopped putting on his clothes the entire time, and he turned his collar down over his tie.

“Reiner,” he said. “Look me up any time if you want a bout in the ring. I hear you're pretty good. Or you were. Shame you don't fight much any more, but I know how it gets. Busy, right?” He shrugged.

Levi turned back and closed the locker before picking up his gym bag and preparing to leave.

“Not so busy I couldn't make the time to take roided up kids like you down a peg or two,” he said flatly. “I don't know what the fuck this little performance was meant to indicate, but I suggest you reconsider getting in my face again or you'll be shitting out your own teeth.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” Reiner said as Levi stalked away.

Fuck, there went his good mood. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that the Titans might have friends in uniform or an interest in the case; it was almost to be expected.

What did surprise him was that they were considering the idea that he might have done it himself. If it wasn't for the fact that they weren't known for their sense of humour, he might have found it funny.

The next morning was the same as the day before, only rather than looking at mug shots he had the displeasure of looking at autopsy and crime photographs instead. Hange saw what he was doing and frowned, but they didn't make any comment.

He had to go back nearly ten years before he found her. Those green eyes stared blankly out of a blood-splattered face, the cheek resting against the linoleum of a kitchen floor.

Carla Jaeger had been killed in her own home by a shotgun blast at close range. It had nearly cut her in half. It wasn't a case that Levi cared to remember; it had nearly cost him his job, after all. He'd been new and keen, and the idea that it was a home invasion gone wrong didn't sit well with him. He'd been stupid enough to remark within earshot of a reporter that it looked more like a messy but professional hit to him. He was lucky he'd been off probation.

He hadn't been directly involved in the case but it had been one of the first that had left an impression on him. They'd failed her. He'd known from the start that they'd failed her. The file was still open, like so many others.

Carla Jaeger. Wife of Grisha Jaeger, and there it was. His fingers flew over the keys as he searched through the police database, and then Levi leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, watching all the pieces fall into place.

“I think,” he said slowly. “I have the connection.” He sat up abruptly and got to his feet. “Get your coat, Hange.”

“Where are we going? What connection?”

“Between our possible crime scenes. Have you heard of Grisha Jaeger?”

“Name's familiar.”

“Underworld doctor. Not a lot on his record but some minor drug offences years ago. No longer licensed, but that never seemed to stop him. His wife was murdered nearly ten years ago.”

“I'm with you so far,” Hange said as they followed him downstairs.

“One of the first victims of our hypothetical vigilante was patched up by someone other than one of Southport's fine and not at all underfunded hospitals. Second killing, Balto, known associate of Grisha Jaeger. Third killing, an accident, fourth killing the actual target and another known associate of Grisha Jaeger. Nick wasn't a patient, but if he didn't want someone to die after he'd been playing with them, he'd call for the good doctor.”

“So we're looking for Grisha,” Hange said.

“No. Whoever is behind these deaths, he's not a man in his fifties, and besides, no one's heard anything of Grisha for at least six months. He seems to have vanished; left town or dead.”

“So where are we going?”

“Whoever I saw last night, they have Carla Jaeger's eyes,” Levi said. “Carla and Grisha had two children; a boy and a girl. The girl's adopted, and they'd both be nineteen now.”

“Ah,” Hange said, understanding gleaming in their eyes.

“I think someone's been going through daddy's address book,” Levi said as he unlocked his car. “So we're going to talk to Eren Jaeger about it, and see how far the apple's fallen from the tree.”

Chapter Text

“Has he got a record?” Hange asked, as they drove out towards the university.

“No.”

“So he wouldn't be in the DNA database.”

“He's got a motorcycle registered to his name as well,” Levi said. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, but this felt right. He'd know for certain once he saw Eren; he wouldn't forget those eyes.

Eren's address was a few blocks from campus, a dilapidated apartment building. This was a student area, and as Levi drove past coffee shops and second hand book stores and restaurants with prominently displayed student deals, he wondered if he was the oldest person in the street.

“Ah, I haven't been back here for ages,” Hange said, instantly in their element. Levi seemed to recall they'd done some sort of criminology degree or something, although he couldn't say it had done them much good. “So nostalgic,” they said.

Levi parked illegally outside Eren's apartment building. There was an intercom system, apparently installed sometime in 1980, and broken sometime soon after, and the front door opened when he pulled on it. Inside it smelled faintly of incense, ramen, damp clothing and floor cleaner. Levi took the stairs up to the third floor; experience had told him it was faster than waiting for the lift in places like this.

The building was quiet. Anyone not at class was probably still asleep, given the usual habits of students. Levi knocked on Eren's door, and waited.

He didn't wait long.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the young man who opened the door wasn't it. Despite the fact that he was dressed in jeans frayed at the cuffs and an oversized green sweater, Levi was almost offended by how unreasonably handsome he was. He didn't look like he'd just got out of bed, although his brown hair clearly had yet to see a comb today. Bare feet poked out from under his tattered jeans, and Levi noticed biro marks on his right hand. Because spotting that sort of thing was why Levi was paying so much attention to him. He was a few inches taller than Levi, and his eyes-

Levi wouldn't forget those in a hurry.

They were definitely inherited from his mother, and at that moment Levi knew, he knew, he'd found his killer. The same eyes, but different this morning, lively and inquisitive. And Levi was certain he'd recognised him; there was a flash of something that crossed his face when he'd met Levi's gaze, but he veiled it quickly.

“Eren Jaeger?” Levi asked.

“Yes?” He looked from Levi to Hange and back again, not a trace of concern or guilt on his face.

Levi showed him his badge. “DC Levi, Officer Hange, Southport Police. May we come in?”

He only hesitated a brief moment before standing aside and waving them through. “Is this about Dad?” he asked.

“Thank you. Why do you say that?” Levi asked.

Eren shrugged awkwardly, looking no more than his nineteen years. “He's the kind of person you expect to bring the police to your door one day,” he mumbled. His expression made Levi want to feel sorry for him.

Levi and Hange followed Eren into a room that smelled pleasantly of coffee. It wasn't exactly neat, but for a son of a known underworld identity, Levi had expected something less salubrious. A leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet were hung up on a hook next to the door, and a jumble of shoes, all the same size, were piled underneath. Levi briefly met his own eyes in the hallway mirror. The apartment was tiny, and most of the furniture looked comfortably second-hand. A row of medical textbooks were held up by makeshift shelves of plywood and brick against one wall. A smallish TV presided over a tangle of controllers and a stack of games sat next to it. The rooms felt lived-in, homey and comfortable. Levi was practised at reading places, as well as people, and nothing jumped out at him as being off or unlikely.

Eren had obviously been studying at the kitchen table; notebooks and highlighters were scattered across the surface and a mug weighed down a stack of printed notes. Last night's washing up was still in the sink, but nothing older than that. Levi couldn't smell smoke, and there were no empty beer cans in the recycling box.

It threw Levi off-guard a little. He knew from Eren's file that he and his sister had been raised alone for the past ten years by Grisha, but maybe they raised each other. This was the kind of room, the kind of lifestyle, Levi expected from nice middle-class kids raised in nice middle-class homes, the kind of people he existed to protect. Not the sort of person who went around murdering gangsters.

“Since we're on the topic,” Levi said. “Do you know where your father is?”

“No,” Eren said. “But we haven't really been close. I've only seen him a handful of times since I graduated High School. I haven't heard from him in, I dunno, six months. He called me ages ago and asked if I needed money, but I didn't really want his help.” He hung his head and sighed. “He tries, I guess.”

“You don't approve of your father's business?” Levi asked.

“How could anyone?” Eren asked, and Levi thought it was a deliberate change of topic when he added, “Oh, would you like some coffee? Sit down anywhere.”

Accepting hospitality was a good way to build a rapport and both Hange and Levi accepted the offer. Hange sat on the couch, and once Levi heard the unhappy noise the springs made when they did so, he decided to keep standing.

Eren fetched clean, if mismatched, mugs from the cupboard and started making their drinks.

“Cream and sugar,” Hange said.

“Black,” Levi said. Eren gave him a little smile, like he'd expected that of him. He was entirely at ease with a couple of detectives in his living space, and that in itself was odd. It was natural for civilians to feel somewhat unsettled by the police.

It was a nice smile. Levi didn't get those often, not from cute young college students anyway. Or from murder suspects, he reminded himself.

Eren handed them their coffee and sat back down at the kitchen table, dragging the chair a little to face them properly.

“So, what's up?”

Levi could tell Hange liked him already. It irritated him; he hadn't managed to get a handle on Eren at all, and the thought that a nineteen-year-old could throw him off his game was one he didn't like.

“Where were you the night before last?” Levi asked.

“Um. Well, I was working 'till six,” Eren said. “And then I came back here and studied.”

“Can anyone verify that?” Levi asked.

“Well, people at work, but no one else was here.”

So he didn't have an alibi. He'd had plenty of time to finish work and then kill Nick.

“Where do you work?” Hange asked.

“I'm a delivery boy for Shiganshina Noodles,” he said. “They're just down the street.”

“Ah, I used to go there a lot,” Hange said.

“You should come back,” Eren said enthusiastically.

“Maybe I should get some lunch since we're here.”

Levi could see this was getting a bit off track.

“All right, what about Monday night?”

“Um, I was here, studying.”

“What about the night of the twenty-forth last month?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Eren looked at him. “Was that a Friday? I was probably here or out with friends or working,” he shrugged. “That's kinda my life.”

Levi went through all the dates of the killings but the answers were the same; Eren didn't have an alibi, or he couldn't remember. He hadn't known the victims, other than Balto, and he claimed all he knew he read in the papers.

“Your father knew some of these people,” Levi said. “He never spoke about them to you?”

“He never talked about what he did,” Eren muttered. “Probably to protect us, as well as him, you know? We just kind of pieced things together.”

“Well, two nights ago a man known as Father Nick was killed in a pawnshop, and someone matching your description was seen fleeing from the scene,” Levi said flatly, his eyes on Eren's face.

Eren met his stare boldly. “I guess that explains why you're here then. But it must have been someone else.”

Levi looked at him for one long moment, letting it stretch on and grow awkward. Eren looked apologetic, and he smiled. Fucking smiled. This kid had nerves of titanium; no one smiled like that at Levi when he was all but accusing them of murder.

Levi narrowed his eyes. “I see. Well, whoever broke into Balto's house cut themselves. We could eliminate you from our enquiries if you'd give us a DNA sample.”

“No.” Eren didn't hesitate.

“The sample will be destroyed afterwards,” Hange added helpfully.

“No. Sorry.” His tone of voice was cheerful and firm.

“Then we'll speak with you another time,” Levi said, putting his empty cup next to the sink. It had been good coffee.

“Okay,” Eren said.

“What are you studying?” Hange asked.

“Nursing. My grades aren't great though; I have to work hard to pass, so there was no way I'd get into med.”

“Following your father's example?” Levi asked.

Eren didn't rise to the bait. He met Levi's eyes and answered calmly, “I want to help people.”

“Ah, keep at it then,” Hange said.

Eren walked them to the door.

“Hey,” he said. Levi paused and looked at him. “You guys probably don't hear this much, but I appreciate what you do, you know?” Levi got the impression he was speaking to him specifically, even though he was looking at them both. He seemed sincere enough.

“Thanks,” Hange said.

Levi just frowned. “If you change your mind about that DNA test, let me know,” he said, handing Eren his card.

Eren took it and glanced at it and nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

“Well, I don't think that was very productive,” Hange said, as they stepped outside again. “But it was kind of pleasant. Such a nice young man. Hey, let's go to Shiganshina Noodles for lunch. I miss their spicy stir-fry special.”

“Mm.”

They walked down the street, Levi with his hands in his coat pockets, while Hange chattered about their university days.

“Why are you so grim, boss? Not every lead pans out.”

“It panned out all right. It's him,” Levi said.

“What?” Hange was startled.

“He recognised me, I'm sure of it.”

“Well, some of the circumstantial evidence sure-”

“I saw him, Hange.”

“You saw his eyes, and only for a moment. Besides, how could he possibly have been strong enough to break into those places? He looked pretty scrawny to me.”

Lean, Levi thought, not scrawny. There was a bit of muscle on him under those baggy clothes- not that he'd been paying that much attention, of course. Either way, however, Eren didn't look strong enough to tear through steel. “I don't know.”

Hange frowned. Levi knew he had nothing on Eren, nothing concrete, and worse, Eren knew it too. Hange might have seen a nice young man, but Levi knew that didn't preclude him being a killer as well, even if the two sides were hard to reconcile. He didn't think he'd run across anything quite like Eren Jaeger before, and he had to be careful.

Levi verified Eren's half-arsed alibi at Shiganshina Noodles while Hange ordered half the menu.

Levi eventually gave in and ordered lunch there as well, and he had to admit it was cheap and filling at least, even if he couldn't quite understand why Hange was so devoted to it. He also felt like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when the roar of a motorcycle preceded Eren arriving to work.

Eren clumped in, wearing motorcycle boots and a leather jacket, pulling his helmet off and ruffling his hair as he greeted his co-workers. Levi had to admit the look suited him down to the ground. When he caught Levi's eye, and Levi refused to drop his gaze even though he felt an urge to, he grinned.

Like he was happy to see him.

He didn't stop to talk, instead collecting the take-out and two minutes later he roared off again to deliver them.

“Back to the office?” Hange said. “I could use a nap after all those noodles.”

Levi knew Hange was, in their own weird way, trying to cheer him up and it only served to irritate him further. “I want to talk to the sister, you can do whatever you like.” Since they'd both taken Levi's car, Hange didn't have a great deal of choice in the matter.

“You think I'm barking up the wrong tree,” Levi said, as they navigated the maze of buildings that made up Southport U.

“It just doesn't feel right,” Hange said. “I can't picture that kid ripping a door off its hinges and knifing four guys in a hail of gunfire. My instincts say-”

“Mine say the opposite. There's something about him I can't grasp. Even for the son of a career criminal, he was far too relaxed.”

“Maybe because he had nothing to hide?”

“Everyone's got something they feel guilty about. And why no DNA sample? He was pretty firm on that point.”

“Lots of people are wary about that. We can't force him without a court order and we're not getting one of those with what we have now.”

“I do know how it works, Hange, even if I don't have a fancy degree.” They stopped in front of a campus map briefly to make sure they were going where they intended. Levi didn't like it here; he felt out of place in this not-quite-public space. It reminded him too much of visiting Erwin in his youth, although he'd never actually gone on campus.

The students all looked ridiculously young, like they shouldn't have been out of high school yet.

Hange wisely, if belatedly, decided to keep their mouth shut.

They entered a large sports hall, in one corner of which a volleyball game was ongoing, and off to one side energetic young men were playing ping pong with far more enthusiasm than Levi thought the game warranted.

Their destination, however, was the small group of students practising kendo under the eye of a portly middle-aged coach. She noticed the detectives approaching and came to meet them.

“We’re looking for Mikasa Ackerman,” Levi said without introducing himself. He didn’t want to draw needless attention.

“Just a moment.” The coach called one of the participants over. A Japanese girl with a strong face that was handsome rather than pretty walked over, tucking her shinai under her arm and brushing her bangs away from her face. She regarded Levi and Hange with wary interest.

When they introduced themselves, Mikasa’s reaction was immediate.

“Is it Eren?” she demanded. “Is he okay? Where is he?” Her eyes blazed and it looked like she was a moment away from using her weapon if they didn't answer.

“He’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?” Levi asked.

Her shoulders dropped and she relaxed somewhat, “Because he’s always riding that stupid motorcycle around like a maniac. So is this about Grisha then?”

Levi noticed she didn’t call him father.

“Eren asked the same thing,” Levi said. “I take it you’re not close to your father?”

“He did me a good turn,” Mikasa said, tugging on the pleats of her hakama. “But he was always so busy we never saw much of him.”

Levi regarded her thoughtfully, “You raised him, didn’t you? Your brother I mean.” He spoke kindly, but with respect.

She gave him a little smile. “I tried. I just want to protect him.” She walked over to the benches at the side of the hall, Levi and Hange following, and set down her shinai before picking up a water bottle.

“You did a good job, he seems a fine young man. It must have been hard after your mother died.”

She didn’t answer, she just looked sad. “Look, what is this about? If it’s not Grisha-”

“Someone matching Eren’s description was seen fleeing the scene of a crime yesterday night,” Levi said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mikasa said, instantly and dismissively. “He’d never be that stupid. Why on earth would he want to steal something?”

“I didn’t say it was a robbery,” Levi said calmly.

“What was it then?”

“A man is dead, Ms Ackerman. A known underworld identity called Father Nick was smeared across the back wall of his office.” Levi watched her closely. She’d smoothed her expression into one of almost complete blankness. “Have you heard of him?”

“I don’t know. He sounds like the sort of person Grisha might know.”

“Very astute. Would Eren know him?”

“Grisha never told us anything,” Mikasa said. “He kept us away from whatever it was he did. So I doubt it.”

“Out of interest, where were you the night before last?”

“Here, training until nine. Then we went out for pizza like we usually do. You can ask the coach if you want.”

“Thank you, Ms Ackerman, you’ve been very helpful.”

She looked like she wanted to ask something more, but she didn’t say another word as they walked away.

“Well,” Levi said, scowling at the ‘no smoking’ sign as they left the hall. “It seems I’m not the only one who thinks Eren might be involved. Notice how her indignation dried up when I mentioned murder. Eren’s not a thief, but she obviously thinks he’s capable of killing someone.”

“What kind of person wouldn’t steal but would kill?” Hange asked.

“Someone who thinks they’re killing for the right reasons,” Levi said.

“She’s not going to tell us anything, that’s for certain. She seemed devoted to him.”

“Yeah. Close family.”

“She’s adopted, right?”

“Yeah, when she and Eren were nine or so. I had a look at records; it seems she was here illegally and Jaegers adopted her to let her stay in the country. They couldn’t find any family for her back in Japan.”

“So she just came out of nowhere?”

“She might as well have. The whole story’s a bit strange, but they’re a strange family, aren’t they?”

“Where do we go from here, boss?”

“Well, we can start trawling through Grisha’s contacts, if he is the connection it might give us a lead on who could be hit next.”

“You think he’s going to keep doing it?” Hange asked. “We might scare him off.”

“He might stop, but I doubt it. He’s not scared of us. If anything, he looked pleased. He may well think we’re on the same side, after all.”

“And you’re still sure-”

“It’s him. Feel free to try and prove me wrong if you want.”

Truth be told, as much as he disliked admitting he was wrong, he wouldn’t have minded if Hange had gone ahead and done so. When he looked at Eren he saw someone who was doing his best to make something of himself, despite a less-than-ideal home life. On the outside at least, his was a story that should have made Levi feel a bit better about a world in which stories like that were few and far between.

But Levi couldn’t look away from the truth just because he didn’t like it. He went back to work.

The case did not progress at all in the next two days, and when it did it was not with the discovery of another body, but with a phone call. Levi didn’t recognise the number.

“Levi here,” he answered.

“Hi, detective.” His eyes widened as he recognised Eren’s voice. “It’s me, Eren Jaeger.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Levi said.

“Good.”

Levi was at his desk and got up and walked out onto the fire escape to talk. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want anyone overhearing.

“Changed your mind about the DNA sample?” Levi asked.

“Um, maybe.”

Levi frowned. He didn’t like being led on.

“What do you want?”

“I was hoping we could talk in person.” He must have heard Levi’s irritated sigh because he rushed on, “I’m right nearby, you don’t have to go far.”

“What do you mean you’re right nearby?” Levi actually looked around, although from his vantage point all he could see was a slice of car park. “Right, fine. Come in and reception will let me know when you’re here.”

“I don’t wanna talk in the police place.” Levi winced at the terminology. “You’d take me to an interview room or something, right? And I bet the coffee sucks too. How about um.” He was obviously looking around. “There’s a cafe on the corner. Jumping Beans?”

Levi was familiar with the place. At least fifty percent of their customers had to be cops.

“Not there,” he said.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Eventually he gave Eren directions to a place a few blocks away called Sasha’s. He met Erwin there sometimes when the lawyer wanted one of his working lunches, which usually meant he wanted information which Levi almost always gave him.

“I’m going for an early lunch,” Levi told Hange as he collected his coat.

“That’s rare for you. Enjoy it!”

Levi doubted he would. He didn’t trust the little brat as far as he could spit him, and he was quite sure the suggestion that he might agree to a DNA test was nothing more than excuse to talk to Levi. Why he wanted to talk to Levi, on the other hand, was something he couldn’t fathom. He supposed he’d find out soon enough.

When he arrived at Sasha's, he spotted Eren's motorcycle parked outside. Eren was already waiting for him at a table where he could be seen, a cup of coffee in front of him as he picked at his phone. He put it away when Levi approached however, and he gave him one of those sweet but unsettling smiles.

“You made it,” he said. His leather jacket was hanging over the back of his chair, and he was wearing a button-up shirt and tight jeans. He'd dressed up, slightly.

“I didn't have to go far,” was all Levi said. Of course he made it; it was work, not a date. But he wasn't about to say that, not when he still didn't know why he was here.

“Of course.” Eren waited while Levi ordered coffee. He didn't look as calm as he had when Levi had visited him; he looked nervous but not in a guilty way.

When the server had gone, Levi looked at Eren enquiringly, “So, what can I do for you?”

“You talked to my sister,” he said, with a slightly reproachful look.

“I did.”

“She was upset. She called me at work and ranted at me.”

“Maybe she had reason to be,” Levi said.

“She worries too much. I'm fine. I didn't think you'd talk to her though. You're pretty thorough, aren't you?”

“Is that flattery?” Levi asked.

“I'm just trying to be nice,” he grumbled into his drink.

“Why?” Levi asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Well-” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “Um.”

He actually had the nerve to blush; it wasn't obvious under his tan and when Levi noticed it he realised he didn't want to hear whatever answer was coming.

This had been a bad idea.

Levi shook his head, and stood up. “Wasting police time is an offence,” he pointed out. “I'll let it slide this time-”

“Don't go!” Eren stretched out a hand, as if to pull him back but thought better of it and just sort of let it hang there for a few moments before lowering it. “I'm sorry. Please. I did want to talk to you.”

Levi sighed heavily and sat down again, glancing at his watch. He wanted to eat at some point but he had no intention of having lunch with this brat. Murdering brat; fuck, he needed to remember that part.

It was sort of important.

Chapter Text

“I looked up the cases you’re investigating,” Eren began, sipping his coffee. “In the newspaper. The university has a subscription to their online database- anyway,” he hurried on, seeing Levi’s impatient look. “They all seem to be the kinds of people who might have deserved it.” He regarded Levi with eyes that looked almost luminous as they reflected the sunlight bouncing off the row of parked cars outside the cafe.

“What gives you the right to decide that?” Levi asked. “We have a justice system, you know. Courts, lawyers, judge and jury. It doesn’t always work-”

“You’re damn right it doesn’t!” Finally, some anger. It was muted though, like this was an old outrage, one he’d grown used to. “It doesn’t work at all, does it? Maybe some of the guys who died would have ended up in jail, but Balto wouldn’t. Not in a million years.”

“You’re right,” Levi said. He wasn’t going to sit here and play Erwin’s part for this kid. If he was so desperate to see the world as it really was, Levi wouldn’t hide it from him. “The system’s fucked and it’s been fucked for a long time. If you’re lucky, you’ll meet someone within it who’ll treat you fairly, but that’s all it is; luck.”

Eren was staring at him, having apparently forgotten his coffee.

“I’ve been on these streets since before you were born. I’ve seen the innocent to go jail, I’ve seen the guilty walk free, I’ve seen the law followed to the letter perpetrate great injustice. I’ve seen incompetence, malice, apathy and even good intentions fuck everything up.”

Levi paused, and looked around at the busy cafe, although he didn’t really see it.

“But I still carry this badge, and I still sleep at night. And whoever killed those men deserves to be tried and punished for what they did.”

“But why, after what you just said-”

“Killing people is wrong, Eren.”

“The state does it,” Eren pointed out. “What about serial killers and people like that?”

“If you want to start a petition to end the death penalty, I will sign it. I will be the first name.”

“Why?”

“Because it cheapens us all. I don’t believe anyone has the right to stand in judgement on another human’s life. Who do you think you are?” he asked abruptly.

Eren didn’t flinch. “It wasn’t me.”

“Like hell it wasn’t.”

“I notice that none of the papers seemed to connect the cases. You’d think it would be news; one guy killing so many people.”

Levi didn’t answer.

“Well, I guess you don’t tell the papers everything, huh?”

Levi sipped his drink. He just wanted to get away from here, away from Eren. There was no clear air when he was in the room; he was almost impossible to look away from. Levi certainly hadn’t intended to speak the way he had. Since when had he waxed poetic about the shit he had to deal with?

Just who was he trying to impress here?

“You really think I did it, don’t you?” Eren asked, tilting his head to the side.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn't be wasting my time here,” Levi pointed out.

Eren looked a bit put out by that. “Even so, you’re not scared of me.”

“If I recall the first time we met, you ran away. Besides, you like cops, don’t you? All that bullshit about what a good job we do- then you don’t trust us to do it.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Eren frowned. “You’re only human. Like, what you said about the system is true, but it’s not true for you, is it? You’re better than that.”

“You don’t know that,” Levi muttered.

Eren merely smiled.

“Okay, I’ve got an offer for you,” Eren said, leaning forward eagerly. “I’ll take your DNA test.” Levi looked up sharply. “If you give me the file on my mother’s death.” He smiled and shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, a perfect solution.

Levi wasn’t impressed.

“Asking for something you know you can’t have isn’t indicative of a genuine offer.”

“Aw c’mon. I’ll take a copy, even. It’s not like you guys are using it after all. Unsolved after nine years.”

They stared at each other, Levi wary and annoyed, and Eren delighted with his logic and probably with Levi’s reaction as well, but in a brittle sort of way. Levi knew the cheeriness was an act, and he knew he was being played; he had probably been played ever since he agreed to meet up with him.

“Just take the fucking test,” Levi growled. “If you waste my time again, I will charge you.” He put down money for the coffee and tip and stood up to leave.

“Be careful out there,” Eren said.

“Is that a threat?” Levi asked.

“No.” Eren shook his head. “Not at all, detective. Thank you for talking to me.”

Levi knew there wasn’t much more he could do until Eren made another move, or something else turned up. He left Eren sitting in the cafe, and he knew he was watching him leave but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to check.

He didn’t need any of this; he had enough on his plate as it was.

Nevertheless, that evening when he’d cleared all the other work that needed immediate attention, Levi pulled up the file on Carla Jaeger. He’d looked at the autopsy photographs recently, of course, but he hadn’t consulted the original case file.

There really wasn’t much to go on; Eren would have been disappointed. One fine August afternoon, someone kicked in the door to Carla Jaeger’s house, cornered her in the kitchen and fired a shotgun at her from almost point blank range. That much Levi already knew.

Then he read on.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he breathed.

Her two children had discovered the body when they’d come home from school only half an hour or so later. Mikasa had been the one to dial 911; they'd even included the transcript of the call. She sounded calm and grown-up.

Levi hung his head. The system had failed those kids, that was for certain, and in hindsight his speech struck him as insensitive and almost mocking. Eren didn’t need to be told how badly the system worked; he’d experienced it first hand just as much as Levi himself had. Why hadn't he said anything rather than letting Levi run his mouth? Why had he forced himself to make a joke of asking for his mother's case file?

Levi realised he still didn't know the first thing about Eren Jaeger. He was like a cat; inscrutable and capricious and Levi knew there was danger in putting too much energy into trying to figure him out. But he could look over this file for him at least.

Suspicion had first fallen on Grisha, but he had a watertight alibi, and his shock and distress had seemed genuine. Without any other leads, it was assumed it was a home invasion, and the case gradually joined the piles of other, similar tragedies that made up the background radiation of life in Southport.

Looking over the case now, nothing particularly strange jumped out at Levi, but he still didn’t like the home invasion theory. It still looked like a hit to him. As far as everyone knew, Carla was a devoted wife and mother and the investigation had turned up no skeletons in her closet, which meant Grisha was probably the real target, albeit indirectly.

Grisha was a strange individual. He didn’t belong to any of the gangs, but treated everyone equally, for an equal price. The rumour was he got away with it because he had a huge dirt file on a lot of people, which his sudden death or disappearance would cause to be made public.

Well, he’d since disappeared and there was no sign of any dirty laundry, but someone too scared to hit him might have targeted his wife. Or children. Eren and Mikasa had been interviewed at the time, but not extensively. Levi found himself sitting in his office listening to the drone of the vacuum cleaner as the cleaners came through, and reading transcripts of ten-year-old Eren's interviews. Every word had to be coaxed out of him, while Mikasa had answered politely.

Even back then they'd been close, the investigators noting how the siblings stuck together and supported each other. Eren hadn't wanted to be interviewed without Mikasa. Levi still got no sense of him as an individual; what ten year old wouldn't be withdrawn and quiet after what he'd seen?

Eventually, Levi had nothing else to do, and nowhere else to go but home.

The next morning, Levi hadn't had time to take off his coat when Hange told him they were going out.

“A college kid got run over by a car,” they said, while Levi reluctantly put down his coffee.

“Why is failing to stop our problem?” Levi asked.

“They hit the breaks and backed over him.”

“Shit.”

It was going to be one of those days, he could tell.

They'd scraped what was left of the kid off the road, and opened it to traffic again by the time Hange and Levi arrived. Hange drove this time, so Levi could have his hands free to finish his coffee.

“He had a student card on him; Marco Bodt. Nothing on the database. It looked like he was heading in to catch a bus to SU; his address is just around the corner.” One of the officers at the scene gave them the details. “His family's out of state, so the local police will inform them.”

Levi was relieved he didn't have to do it.

“Any witnesses?”

“The juice bar across the street wasn't open yet, but the owner says he usually has to clear off a homeless guy who sleeps in the doorway most nights. We've got a description and we're looking for him.”

“Good. I suppose we'll see if anyone's home.”

Marco had lived in one of a row of old town houses, most of which were in the process of being done up. Levi knocked on the door first, although he had Marco's keys. To his surprise, he could hear someone inside coming down the stairs.

“I can't believe you forgot your fucking keys aga-” The young man who opened the door trailed off when he saw the police on his doorstep. He was about college age, with dyed blonde hair, and clearly wearing the clothes he'd been sleeping in. “Can I help you?”

“Does Marco Bodt live here?” Levi asked, showing him his badge and watching the young man's face grow pale as he did so.

“Yeah. He's- he's my room-mate.”

“Can we come in?”

When they left again, over an hour later, Levi needed a cigarette in the worst way; he wanted to taste something other than grief and smell something other than the dead boy's clothes on his fingers.

They'd searched his room, and questioned his friend, a Jean Kirschstein, but Marco had apparently been a dutiful and well-liked young man. Jean had collapsed onto the couch and Hange had eventually coaxed him into drinking some tea, and he'd answered Levi's questions in a voice choked with grief.

Hange sighed and brushed stray strands of hair away from their face as Levi paused to light up.

“I feel sorry for his room-mate. The poor kid was really cut up.”

“They weren't room-mates,” Levi said. “Or not just room-mates, anyway.” Jean had given them permission to search whatever they wanted to, and Levi had noted the cross-pollination of wardrobes and the photographs of the pair as sun-drenched teenagers stuck to the wall. He probably knew more about Marco than his parents did now.

“Do you think that could be a motive?” Hange asked quietly.

Levi just shook his head. It was too early to tell.

The morgue was next. Even the medical examiner looked rather subdued.

“This was the initial impact, which might have been survivable depending on how soon he got medical attention. But the rear wheel left two distinct sets of marks, here and here, so he was definitely run over twice.

“Do you know what sort of car?” Levi asked.

“I can identify the tyres. They're a high performance type.”

“Sports car,” Levi said.

“Maybe.”

“No motive,” Levi said, as Hange drove him back to the office. “No witnesses, unless we can find our mysterious gentleman with no fixed address-” He cut himself off as his phone rang. “Levi,” he said.

It was the reception desk.

Levi frowned, “I'm sorry, who? Yeah, I'm on my way back. Put him in an interview room.” He hung up.

“A Marco Bolt just presented himself at the front desk,” he said. “Claims he needs police protection.”

“Well that's a twist,” Hange said.

Marco Bolt turned out to be a small-time bookmaker, a shaky little man who kept asking if he was going to get some food at some point.

“We're not a hotel,” Levi pointed out. “So why don't you tell us why exactly you think your life's in danger.”

Bolt really didn't want to tell, but he didn't have any other choice, given Levi made it clear he'd throw him back out on the street if he didn't explain himself. It was an old and uninteresting story of too much money borrowed too fast for plans that hadn't worked out. Bolt was out of cash, out of friends, and out of options. Most of his business was just inside the law, so there wasn't even a lot of information he could sell, either.

Nevertheless, Levi got him a sandwich from the canteen and told him to stay put. As soon as possible he'd make him someone else's problem, but he had more important things to be getting on with. Marco Bolt had given him a name.

“We're going to South Shore,” Levi told Hange when they got back from a lunch Levi had foregone in favour of a muesli bar from the vending machine and a long drink of water. He could still see those smiling photographs and hear Jean's raspy voice telling him nothing useful, just the next few bars of an endless song he already knew all the words to. He knew he'd be hungry again eventually, but not until he'd seen this day through.

And then someone found the witness and Levi's day took a turn for the better, as Mr No Fixed Address had been both sober and awake at the time of the accident.

“It's a family business,” Levi said. He was driving this time. “Three generations, according to their website.”

“Gangs have websites now?”

“Oh, they're almost legit. Small business loans and personal finance.”

“Sharks,” Hange said flatly.

“Since Prohibition ended, apparently. Anyway, we're looking for a red Audi. And what do you know?”

Levi pulled up outside a Georgian monstrosity framed by roses and with a sprinkler-watered lawn. A middle-aged man, stripped to the waist and with a large moustache was scrubbing down a red Audi TT. He looked up briefly but went back to work as Levi and Hange approached.

“This yours?” Levi asked.

“No sir,” he didn't look up.

“You might want to take a break for now,” Levi said.

“The boss is inside, I gotta work.” He paused when Levi held his badge in front of his eyes.

“Like I said, you need to take a break. What's your name? Whose car is this?”

Hange was already calling in the registration, but it didn't hurt to ask.

“New tyres,” Hange said, bending down to look at the car. “Very new.”

“I am Hugo. And the car, it belongs to Jason, the boss's boy. It just got back from the shop this morning.” The man straightened up, cracking his back. “The boss asked me to clean it before his son comes home. It is a nice surprise, he says.”

“So you took it to the shop? When?”

“First thing this morning when I arrive.”

“What do you normally do?”

“I look after the garden and the dogs, and the cars.”

“Hey!” The front door opened and a hollow-cheeked man in a wife-beater and startlingly colourful shorts strode out. “Hugo! Get back to work.”

“He is police,” Hugo explained. “He asked me to stop.” Levi pulled out his badge.

“Then you should have gone and fetched me.”

“Kitts Verman?” Levi asked.

“That's me.” He forced a jocular smile that made him look even less prepossessing that he had before. “Come in, it's too hot out here.”

“This car belongs to your son?” Levi asked, not moving.

“Yes.”

“Do you know where it was at around seven-thirty this morning?”

“Why, here of course. I had Hugo take it to the shop first thing. My boy, he drives a little recklessly, you know. Nothing illegal of course!” He laughed when Levi didn't react to his friendly tone. “But the tyres needed replacing. It wasn't safe to drive.”

“And where's your son?”

“He went to a party last night. He said he'd probably stay over and he hasn't come back yet.”

“Address?”

Kitts was happy to give it to him. He seemed all together too happy about the whole thing.

“Do you know a Marco Bolt?” Levi asked.

“A long-standing client of ours, yes.”

“When I spoke to him earlier, he didn't seem too happy about being a long-standing client, of yours.”

Kitts' smile faded. “What?”

“Marco Bolt. No relation to Marco Bodt, a young engineering student who was struck by a sports car, twice, this morning.”

“I'm very sorry to hear that.”

“I'm sure.” Levi took a folded piece of paper from out of his pocket. “This means I'm impounding this car until our lab can take a closer look at it.”

Kitts hesitated a moment and then shrugged, “Sure, whatever you like. Always happy to help the boys and-” he faltered when he looked at Hange. “Girls in blue.”

It was a very clean car. A startlingly clean car, and Levi would know because even his own car wasn't quite as clean. Hugo had done a good job and Levi suspected it had been through the car wash a few times as well. Nevertheless, they waited around until a truck came to take it to forensics, and they could only hope they'd get something useful out of it.

“He used his son's car,” Hange said, shaking their head as they drove away.

“No. He knows what Bolt looks like; he wouldn't have confused Bodt for him. I'd put money on Jason.” Levi frowned. “Our witness didn't see who was driving though. Without forensics it's going to be hard to make anything stick.” But he was sure as hell going to try.

They visited the house where the party was supposed to have taken place, but the hungover frat boys they talked to weren't very helpful. Jason had been there the night before, but beyond that everyone was hazy. No one knew where he was now.

The auto shop was more lucid, but couldn't give them any more leads; the tyres had gone.

Marco's parents flew in the next day, and Levi took them to an interview room, the nice one with the couch and the view across the street, where they always took the grieving families and assault victims.

Mister Bodt was doing his best to support his wife, who looked like she'd been crying non-stop since she heard the news. Levi had been trained for this, and he'd had practice; he knew what he had to say, and he said it. The condolences. The 'we're doing our best.'

“It was mistaken identity. They thought he was someone else with a similar name.”

He thought about Kitts and his jolly laugh. He thought about the gleaming Audi. He made the Bodts no promises.

But when he went home he was hungry. Life went on, after all.

The next day it all went to sand.

The witness withdrew his statement. He was wrong; it was orange, and probably a BMW. He wouldn't say where he'd spent the night, but he looked well-fed and rested, and he was wearing new shoes. No amount of persuasion or bullying on Levi's part would get him to change his mind, and Levi didn't entirely blame him. He'd already seen what Verman was capable of first hand, and safety was a luxury rarely afforded those who sleep rough. He was lucky he was bribed rather than killed.

Both Vermans had unreliable alibis, but Levi couldn't disprove them conclusively.

Levi pinned his hopes on forensics finding something on the car, and concentrated on other cases. The report came in Friday. Other than the fact that it was suspiciously clean, they'd found nothing. The auto shop had already disposed of the tyres, and even if they found them again, there was no longer anything to link them to the car.

Marco Bolt left town.

Levi tossed the file into a different pile, and then immediately straightened it. Sometimes, the best will in the world could only take you so far. He needed a drink.

Bar Sina was the same as always. It was almost as if time didn't move there; the same staff, the same music, the same people. Sometimes Levi found the familiarity comforting, but tonight it just reminded him how little difference anything he did would make. The same shit would keep happening, over and over. Levi had arrived first for once and when Erwin joined him at the bar he frowned.

“Well this isn't encouraging,” Erwin said, nodding at the glasses in front of him.

“I'm not going to get shitfaced on three drinks, Erwin,” Levi said. “And I'm not planning on having any more,” he added, which was what he knew Erwin really wanted to know. Even as he said it, he could feel the old black magic drawing dark, comforting clouds across that which he didn't want to consider, and he knew he was tempted. Ten years of being mostly-sober had cut his tolerance down considerably. Once he'd barely have been feeling it at this stage.

“Of course, but even so it's a little out of character,” Erwin said, nodding at the barman as he served him his usual. “What's wrong?”

“The usual shit, nothing new.” Levi toyed with one of the empty glasses but didn't order another.

“You handle the usual shit better than this.”

“Maybe this time there's another way of looking at it. An approach that's changed.”

“You've lost me.”

“Say you could snap your fingers and someone of your choosing would die. Would you?”

Erwin raised an eyebrow, “Levi, you could use me to keep time.”

Levi frowned, he should have known better than to ask Erwin for moral guidance. “No, I mean, it doesn't just happen. You are responsible for those deaths. And there's always a chance someone will notice you snapping your fingers while the corpses pile up.”

“It's not like you to get philosophical.”

“Would you do it though?”

“What, like make a deal with the devil?”

“Yeah.” A devil with green eyes.

“I don't know,” Erwin said slowly. “When you make a deal with the devil, there's usually a catch somewhere along the line.”

“He owns you.”

“That's the one. I've met a few devils in my time.” Levi was not surprised. “Never made a deal though. Not that I was ever offered anything like that; it was always money or power.” Erwin slid a sideways glance at Levi “What is going on?”

“It's been a strange week. I can't say I achieved anything at all in the end.”

“They still paid you,” Erwin pointed out.

“Mm.”

“What happened to your vigilante?” Erwin asked.

“I found him.”

“What?” Levi got some brief satisfaction out of making Erwin nearly spit his drink. “I didn't hear about this.”

“There's no reason why you should have. I can't charge him; there's no evidence.”

“So that's what's eating you,” Erwin said. “You should be proud you were right. Now you know who he is you'll get him eventually.” Erwin frowned when Levi's scowl didn't shift. “You want to eat? I'm buying.”

Levi looked up and put the glass down next to the others. “No, that's fine. I should be going anyway.”

“Do you need a lift home?”

“I'll take a taxi. Hange can drive me in on Monday.”

“You need to eat, Levi.”

“I don't need you to remind me of that any more. I'll get take-out. I feel like Chinese tonight.”

Chapter Text

Levi started having second thoughts the second he hung up after placing his order with Shiganshina Noodles.

As he'd promised Erwin, he'd taken a taxi home. The driver had sensed he hadn’t wanted to talk and mercifully turned the radio up a little and left him alone. Levi had spent the trip glaring out the window at the lights of Southport.

Levi knew when to give up. He was familiar with that turning point in a case where you just didn't have enough; enough evidence, enough time, enough power. You'd go mad if you didn't heed that knowledge and he knew hopeless cases drove cops to nervous breakdowns.

He felt like cleaning.

His apartment was never anything approaching dirty. It was a tiny portion of the world over which he had total control, and he kept it in perfect order. When the job started to get to him, he'd clean. When he was angry at his own powerlessness, he'd clean. When he'd had to face another grieving family, he'd clean. When he'd returned from court after giving testimony and knowing it wasn't enough, he'd clean.

But nothing was dirty, and his dinner would be arriving any minute and the only thing worse than not cleaning was starting and getting interrupted halfway through. So he didn't clean.

He was irritated at himself for drinking, as well. He didn't have to and it wasn't because he'd had a shitty week, despite what he'd told Erwin. It was because he'd wanted the nerve to order noodles, and he knew he'd have talked himself out of it if he'd been entirely sober.

Bad idea, bad idea.

He paced up and down his kitchen, trying not to listen for the roar of a motorcycle.

Fucking stupid idea.

He didn't even know if Eren was working tonight, and he certainly hadn't asked them to send over the delivery boy with the green eyes along with his chow mein.

The thing was, he cleaned when it all started to get to him.

He drank on the rare occasions he wanted to pick up.

At least Erwin didn't know that.

He jumped when the intercom buzzed. Even with the lousy quality, he recognised Eren's voice on the other end, cheerfully professional. Levi didn't answer; he just let him into the building. As he did so he thought wryly of the folk tales that accompanied many legends of monsters; don't let them in.

When Levi opened the door, he got the satisfaction of utterly blind-siding Eren, which he suspected wasn't going to happen very often so he should at least enjoy it. The polite smile had dropped, along with Eren's jaw, when he'd seen who was waiting for him. It was probably only sheer luck he managed to keep a grip on the food.

He was dressed for his motorcycle, and Levi could smell the food in the bag he was holding. After a few moments of demonstrating a credible goldfish impersonation, Eren managed to remember why he was here and he handed over the meal.

“Um. Hi, detective. I had no idea this was your place. Well of course I wouldn't.” Levi watched him try to surreptitiously arrange his hair, and try not to look like he was peering over Levi's shoulder at the room behind him.

“Hello, Eren.” Of all the ways he'd imagined this meeting would go, he hadn't expected it to be so deeply awkward. Not that Levi was going to let it show on his face; he kept a calm exterior while Eren tried to decide whether he wanted to meet his eyes or look away.

“I guess you really did like the noodles,” Eren said eventually, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, as proud as if he'd cooked it himself.

“They're all right I guess. How much do I owe you?”

“Ah, right.” They conducted the transaction in as businesslike a manner as possible, as if someone was watching them.

Levi was closing the door when Eren spoke again.

“Hey, um.”

“What?” Now he just wanted to get this over with and eat. If nothing else, Eren had distracted him sufficiently from the events of this week that he was feeling hungry again.

“Why?” He seemed to have regained his composure and he looked at Levi and shrugged.

“Maybe I wanted to make sure I didn't have to visit the scene of another massacre tonight,” Levi said.

Eren frowned at him, looking disappointed. “Okay, well, satisfied now?”

Levi didn't know why he was pouting about it. If he didn't want him to treat him like a suspect he should have thought of that before he started killing people.

“Yeah.”

“Well, bye.”

Levi watched him walk down the hall, dragging his feet like a teenager sent to his room.

How had he stayed so clean, he wondered. There was something pure about him, he was unlike any other killer Levi had met. When he looked into his eyes he saw a human, and was recognised as one in turn. Levi couldn't quite believe he wasn't wearing his heart on his sleeve, but Eren was a puzzle and Levi couldn't quite make all the pieces fit.

But he had wanted to see him, and somehow he felt slightly more at ease now that he had.

“A kid was murdered,” Levi said. Eren stopped walking, but he didn't turn around. “He was about your age. Nice boy. Nice family. Nice boyfriend. I have a fair idea who did it, but there's nothing I can do about it. I drove his folks to the airport today; I didn't want to make Hange do it.”

“This shitty world we live in,” Eren said. He was still facing away, and Levi couldn't see his face. “Things like this happen every day, don't they?”

“Why didn't you say you found your mother? Why did you smile when you asked me for her file?”

“You looked at it, did you?” Eren turned slightly, and Levi saw a sad smile in profile. “I thought you would.” He took a deep breath. “I didn't want to talk about me. I wanted to hear what you thought, what you had to say without you trying to spare my feelings.”

“I said a lot of useless shit,” Levi muttered.

“You think?” He turned to face him and then started walking back. The smile on his face had changed, and that intense, almost taunting stare was back. “You think you talk shit, Levi?”

“Who doesn't?” He shrugged, suddenly wary. Eren was almost prowling, something about the way he held himself, moved his hips, was different. There was no awkwardness now, just the playfulness that had so irritated Levi when he'd first seen it.

“Okay, it was all shit,” Eren said. “So why don't you tell me who killed this kid?”

“What?” Levi looked up at him, startled.

“I trust you've got the right guy,” Eren said. “So why don't you tell me who it is?”

“And then what?” Levi asked.

Eren shrugged, “Who knows? What do you think will happen?”

“Are you offering to kill someone for me?” Levi tried to sound like the thought hadn't crossed his mind before, but he suspected Eren knew better.

“Of course not, I'm not the killer,” Eren lied. “But you think I am, so it's basically the same thing, isn't it? It couldn't hurt.”

They were standing practically toe to toe now, the smell of cooking oil clung faintly to Eren's clothes, and Levi could have counted his eyelashes if he'd been inclined. The smell of Southport had been ground into his clothes by the slipstream but Levi could smell young male underneath, he was so close. He was far too close, too far inside Levi's personal space for comfort, but he wouldn't show a moment's weakness and back down.

Erwin would probably say yes, just to see what happened.

Levi thought about Marco, currently on his way to be buried in his hometown. He thought about Marco's parents and his boyfriend, who had been at the airport to see them off. Jean hadn't looked like he'd slept all week.

Eren didn't look away while Levi thought about these things; he barely even blinked.

“No,” Levi said, and his voice sounded strong in his ears. As soon as the word had passed his lips he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Why not? Wouldn't it be justice?”

“It would be revenge, nothing more.”

Eren looked at him for a few moments and then he grinned. It lit up his eyes. “See, I knew you weren't saying useless shit. You're better than that. Anyway, I gotta go. Enjoy the food, detective.” He gave Levi a cheerful wave as he practically bounded down the hall, looking terribly pleased with himself, or Levi, or both of them.

Levi closed his front door. He felt, shit, he felt almost like this had been a good idea. Because he'd made his choice, and he could move on to whatever next week held, and he was still clean. He hadn't betrayed himself, like Eren had known he wouldn't. It was really rather annoying how well he could read Levi. Erwin was bad enough, and at least Erwin didn't go around killing people in his spare time (as far as Levi knew, anyway.)

And Erwin didn't have half as nice a smile.

Levi went to eat before he thought about that any further. He'd be grateful for this respite and move on. Stranger things than this had probably happened.

Levi spent his Saturday morning buying groceries and giving his flat a quick once-over, now he didn't feel the need to clean seriously. His colleagues complained constantly of not having enough spare time to spend with their families or their hobbies, but Levi found when he wasn't at work life seemed to drag. He could go to the gym, and did so usually on a Sunday morning when it was quiet. If he was desperate for company Erwin usually had some tedious function to attend and Levi had a standing invitation to accompany him and make biting remarks about the other guests under his breath.

Hange had talked him into going on a nature ramble with their hiking club once, and he'd vowed never to make the same mistake again. He'd never been interested in school and books bored him. He had a television but every time he turned it on he usually ended up shouting at it.

So on weekends he went for walks, experimented in his spotless kitchen, or simply caught up on sleep.

He was idly trawling through his preferred recipe sites on Saturday afternoon when his phone rang.

Work, of course, who else would it be? He answered without looking at the number.

“Levi,” he said, already rising out of his chair to go and find a tie.

“Hi, it's me,” Eren said. “I was wondering if you'd changed your mind about telling me the guy's name?”

“No I have not. And you've got no reason to call me; I'm off duty,” Levi said abruptly. Christ, he supposed he was asking for this to a certain extent after last night, but he hadn't expected retaliation so soon. Give him an inch, he thought wryly.

“I know. And that's good, cause if you were on duty you could book me for wasting police time, but if you're not all I can do is waste your time.”

“Thanks for making your intentions clear. Goodbye.”

“Wait! I have a question.”

Levi's finger hovered over the disconnect button.

“Detective?”

“Fine, what?”

“You're not worried that I know where you live now?”

“Not in the slightest.” On a whim, Levi crossed the room to his window, and glanced out at the street outside.

Eren was astride his Honda, his phone against his ear and a huge grin on his face. He waved when he saw Levi watching him.

“Made you look.”

“You shitty brat,” Levi growled. This time he did hang up, and he shoved his phone and keys in his pocket and stomped downstairs.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled as he stalked up to Eren. Eren had his helmet resting on the bike in front of him, and he was putting his phone away.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

“I don't want to talk to you.”

“I want to tell you some things that I probably should have mentioned earlier,” Eren said.

“You tried this on last time,” Levi said. “When you suggested you'd let us take a DNA sample.”

“I never promised that,” Eren said. “But I do want to tell you stuff, promise.”

“Okay, spit it out.”

“What, here?”

“I'm not inviting you in,” Levi said, folding his arms.

“Okay, then let's go somewhere else. We can't talk in the street. I've got a spare helmet-” he turned back to detach it from the pannier. “It's Armin's, but it should fit you okay.”

“Oh, fuck no,” Levi said.

“Are you scared of bikes?” Eren asked, holding it out to him.

The corner of Levi's mouth twitched, somewhere between irritated and amused, “Hardly.”

“Come on then. What are you waiting for?”

“I'm not-” Eren practically shoved the helmet into his hands and he was obliged to catch it or it would have fallen. “Is it clean?”

Eren shrugged. “I guess? I don't think Armin has nits or anything.”

“Who's Armin?”

“He's my best friend. You'd like him! I think.”

“If he's your friend I doubt it.”

Eren just grinned at him and put his helmet on. Levi hovered in exasperated indecision for a few moments. He trusted his instincts, and they told him that Eren was no physical danger to him, but he was warier of demonstrating any trust. He still didn't know what Eren wanted from him.

Perhaps it was the thought of finally working that out that made up his mind. The helmet didn't smell too disgusting, and it fitted well enough, although he wouldn't want to make a cross-country trip in it.

Eren started his bike and waited for Levi to get on the back. It was trail bike, and there wasn't really a lot of room, nor was it particularly comfortable.

“Hang on,” Eren said cheerfully.

Levi rather reluctantly put his arms around Eren's waist. It was the first time he'd actually touched him. Not that it really counted of course because he was wearing that leather jacket, and that was obviously a good thing.

“We better not be going far,” Levi said.

Eren didn't answer, merely glancing back to make sure Levi was secure and that there was no traffic coming, and then he accelerated.

Levi hadn't ridden a bike in a while; he preferred cars because they kept you out of the dirt and weather, but he quickly remembered how it was done. Eren obeyed the road rules so carefully Levi suspected that Mikasa was telling the truth when she said he normally rode like a maniac.

The bike was noisy, and they couldn't talk to each other, and Levi couldn't actually see over Eren's shoulder. So there was nothing much for him to do but concentrate on leaning in when Eren did, and hang on.

If it had been under other circumstances, Levi would have enjoyed this more. Eren's body was lean and warm, and he could feel him flex at every corner. As it was he was probably enjoying himself too much; Eren's denim-clad arse was only a couple of inches from Levi's crotch and his dick knew it. Without conversation and without eye contact it was a lonely sort of intimacy, the wind curling past them and the snarl of the bike between their legs.

The bike suited Eren. Whether he was studying, working or killing his way out, Levi could sense the drive within him not to be caged, even by the protective shell of a car. Maybe he'd been the same once, or similar. He'd sought a different sort of freedom and it would have killed him if he hadn't turned his back on it.

In the end, they didn't go that far. They crossed the city centre, quieter on a weekend, the streets less clogged, and Eren ended up easing the bike to a halt at the edge of Portside Park.

Southport's biggest park was established only a few years after the city itself was, and yoga classes, homeless people and most of Southport's hardy, ambitious wildlife found a place among its flower gardens, remnant forest, and spreading lawns.

Levi dismounted, the relative quiet almost deafening as he lifted the helmet off. He watched a pair of joggers pound along the pavement. On a Saturday afternoon the park was quite full. Occasionally, when he was feeling exceptionally energetic, Levi would walk here from his apartment, but it was more of a hike than a weekend stroll and he hadn't been here in quite some time.

“Why are we here?” he asked as Eren dismounted and unzipped his jacket. “Do you expect me to buy you an ice cream?”

“Not really, but I wouldn't say no if you did.”

Levi thought about Mike and his coffee requirements. “Give me information worth the effort and I will.”

Eren led him into the park, ignoring the concreted walking paths and instead ambling over the lawn, giving sunbathers and dogs fetching frisbees a polite wide berth. Levi looped his arm through the helmet and strolled after him. He was here now, so he'd wait and see what Eren had to say before passing judgement on the excursion.

Eventually Eren found a bench that wasn't occupied and he sat on it, stretching his long legs out in front of him. Levi put the helmet down between them and sat as well.

“I know who you are,” Eren began.

“I wasn't aware that was a secret,” Levi said. “I did give you my card.”

“No, I knew before that. For a long time.” He took a deep breath. “When my mother died- was murdered- they gave Mikasa and I counselling, and tried to keep it all away from us, you know? No news, no papers in the house. Dad just told us what he thought we could handle but he was pretty cut up about it too, so he didn't say much at all.”

Levi just listened, watching Eren stare blankly at the ground between his feet.

“We were kids, but we weren't little kids. And even if the teachers were briefed, they couldn't stop our classmates talking about it. I hated that they wouldn't tell me anything, that they considered too much for us, even though,” he faltered. “Even though we'd already seen the worst of it.”

“So I got Armin to buy newspapers for me with my allowance.” He glanced at Levi for the first time, “And I saw what you said, about it being a hit rather than a home invasion.”

“I wasn't supposed to say that,” Levi said.

“I worked that out too,” Eren said with a little smile. “But that just made it better, you know? You were like the first person to say anything meaningful, even if you weren't supposed to. I thought if anyone could find who'd killed my mom it would be you.”

“I didn't,” Levi said. “I was in uniform back then. Barely out of probation.”

“I know.” Eren sighed, “But I'd scour the newspaper for your name anyway. Even if you didn't find out who did it, I knew you were doing your best. I believed you were a hero, city's best cop. I wanted to be a cop for a while, you know, be like you. But then I realised I probably wouldn't be able to do it; if I had to deal with all the stuff you deal with I don't think I could cope and that's the truth. And Mikasa put a lot of effort into talking me out of it.”

“What did your father say?”

“I never told him. He didn't seem all that interested, to be honest.”

“I'm sorry,” Levi said. “To disappoint you.”

“No you don't understand. When I saw you, I knew it was you; I mean you're ten years older-”

“Thanks.”

“You don't look that different,” Eren assured him. “You look better even, more um, calm and strong. And the suit-”

“I really don't care what you think of my wardrobe.”

“Right. Anyway, when I saw you I wanted to tell you, but you were there on other business, and it didn't really seem appropriate.” He shrugged, “And then I thought, what if you've changed. They say you should never meet your heroes, right?”

Levi didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say.

“But you haven't,” Eren said shyly, sneaking a glance at him. “You're just like I'd hoped. And I'm really glad I got to meet you.”

“That it?”

“That's it.”

“And you think that shit deserves an ice cream?” Levi asked.

Eren laughed. “You're even better than I'd hoped. You're funny too.”

Levi leaned back against the backrest and looked up at the sky. There was just no talking to him. Eren seemed to have said his piece, and they sat in silence watching the afternoon go by. Levi didn't think he'd done anything like this in a long time; usually idle time meant idle thoughts and memories clamouring for his attention, but Eren held his attention effortlessly, even when he wasn't looking at him, wasn't speaking to him, and Levi felt strangely calm.

“Hey, when you looked at the file,” Eren said.

“Nothing,” Levi said. “No conspiracy, no gross incompetence, no overlooked clues that I could see. Just a certain plodding quality to the investigation; the usual avenues of enquiry, the usual theories.”

“I guess that's what I should have expected,” Eren said. “Part of me hoped you'd take one look at it and crack the case, even after all these years.”

“Life isn't a TV show.”

“No. But thank you for looking anyway.”

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

“I know,” Eren said softly. “Thank you.”

Levi got to his feet. “I'm going home.” He didn't want to spend another moment in the company of Eren's sad eyes and tremulous smile. It was making him feel responsible for him in a way he didn't like. He had to get some distance, and remind himself how they came to meet in the first place.

“Hang on, I'll give you a lift.”

Levi shook his head. “I'll walk. I need the exercise.”

“But it's miles.”

“So it'll do me good.” He left the helmet on the seat.

“But-”

Levi raised a hand in farewell and strode off, searching his pockets for a cigarette, and thankfully Eren didn't try to follow. When Levi glanced back, just before he rounded some trees and left Eren's line of sight, Eren was still sprawled on the bench, staring at nothing.

He looked lonely, but Levi thought he might well be projecting.

Chapter Text

When Hange asked him how his weekend went on Monday morning, Levi didn't answer any differently from the usual. Hange trusted his judgement, but he wasn't so certain he did any more. He'd walked home from the park and made dinner, but it felt like an act. Things weren't normal, his weekend wasn't just the usual. His life in general seemed to have started to wobble off course lately.

He'd gone motorbike riding with an attractive young murder suspect and he was starting to think he needed a holiday, because he couldn't even beat himself up about it. He'd learned some things and now thought he understood Eren a bit better, and that felt good.

He decided he'd just leave it for now, and not order any more Chinese take-out. There hadn't been any more killings since he'd first spoken to Eren, and if he was honest he was prepared to let it go if it stayed like that. He had plenty of other cases he'd had to abandon for lack of evidence, and he wouldn't feel so bad if he ended up adding this one to the list.

Nothing is ever that easy.

Levi and Hange spent the day chasing up a last few dead ends on the Bodt case and they were on their way back to the office as the sun was sinking when the radio crackled to life.

Levi's heart and jaw both sank as armed suspects were reported on Mason Square, Eleventh Street, and Queen's Avenue heading towards Southport Station.

Three blocks, Hange mouthed in shock.

What the fuck was going on?

“Show us attending,” Levi said. Hange was already reaching for the radio as he swung them abruptly out of the stream of traffic and down a side road.

The radio continued to chatter from the dashboard, but it was hardly painting a coherent picture. The police were left scrambling in the wake of at least half a dozen armed individuals, who appeared to have no clear goal or direction in sight. Instead they were fighting a pitched battle against police as they ran amok in the city- not the new city, with its needles of glass and steel, but the old one, with its stained and crumbling sandstone facades, some of which bore establishment dates more than a century old.

Levi did his best to track the reports and apply them to his mental map of the city.

“They’ve changed direction,” he said abruptly.

Traffic was coming to a standstill as people desperate to leave the city centre fled and emergency service vehicles rushed in the opposite direction. That it was evening rush hour only added to the mess. A TV helicopter thudded overhead, the sound reverberating down the street and adding a spike of adrenaline to Levi’s system.

“Terrorists?” Hange suggested. They were checking over their revolver.

“They’re chasing someone,” Levi said slowly. “That’s why they keep moving and changing direction.”

“Like who?” Hange asked.

“Let’s find out. Last report was on the corner of Andrews and Long, right? Let’s see if we can head them off.” Levi leaned heavily on the horn and barged through the traffic.

“We haven’t had to break out the vests in a while, have we?” Hange said with a kind of strained cheerfulness.

Levi was barely listening. He was concentrating on the traffic. He managed to cut in behind an ambulance- there were casualties reported among both citizens and suspects– and they made reasonable time until their paths diverged.

When they reached Long Street, they started to see pedestrians fleeing on foot. Levi flinched as he heard the popping of gunfire from somewhere up ahead.

“Right, you take the car,” Levi said. “And come and pick me up if I need you to.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“To find the fox in this particular hunt.” He brought the car to a halt and started putting on his bulletproof vest.

“That means you’ll be running right into their line of fire,” Hange said, staring at him.

“If we get the fox, the hunt ends. Right now we’re just chasing them and it’s putting people in danger.”

“And you’re putting yourself in danger too.”

“It goes with the job, Hange.”

“What’s gotten into you, boss? You usually avoid this sort of thing. What did you call it? Survival instinct.”

Levi opened the door, “Just be where I need you to be, Hange. And don’t get shot. And don’t eat chips in my car.”

Hange frowned but clambered across into the driver’s seat as ordered. “And here I was planning on stopping off for a snack.”

Outside on the street, the city had an apocalyptic feel, but one that was strangely familiar. Every other movie that came out seemed to have a scene like this one, all that was missing was a couple of superheroes. Levi held his gun down by his side, and motioned for people to keep moving, more specifically to keep moving out of his way.

Gunshots again, muffled, and Levi realised they were coming from somewhere above him. The buildings here weren’t tall; few were more than eight  stories high, and as he jogged along, his neck craned back, he saw the flash of muzzle flare from a roof.

Levi called in his location, and requested backup, although given his was one of several, he wasn’t expecting it to arrive terribly promptly.

And then he radioed Hange.

“Get your arse to Long Street and keep an eye out for Eren Jaeger. If you see him, arrest him. I don’t care if you have to run him over, I don’t care if you have to shoot him, just don't let him get away.”

“Understood, boss.”

He’d say this for Hange, when push came to shove they were probably where you wanted them to be.

Levi headed up. Both hunter and hunted had retreated to the rooftops. Similar information was being relayed through the radio; whoever these people were, they were coordinating their movements.

Levi found himself in some sort of office building, and despite the agonising wait, he summoned the lift rather than take the stairs. He didn’t want to tire himself out.

The lift was crammed full of people when it arrived, and they seemed to assume Levi was there to help them specifically. Irritably he directed them in what he hoped was the safest direction.

When he stepped into the lift, a tall, lanky man with a face that looked rather older than the rest of him, followed him in, clutching a bag. Levi hit the button for the top floor.

“I forgot my keys,” the stranger said. “I panicked. But I can't get home without them.”

“The gunmen are on the roof and have no reason to come down,” Levi said. “But if you hear anything, lie low in your office until you're sure it's safe, you understand?” He was not going to waste time babysitting this idiot.

“Yes, officer,” he said, apparently unable to take his eyes off Levi's revolver.

“And don't piss yourself,” Levi muttered, given that's what the man seemed about to do. He flinched when the lift doors opened, and waited in the lift while Levi checked the coast was clear. “Off you go,” Levi said. As he'd expected, the floor was quiet.

Levi took the last flight of stairs up to the roof. He waited, one hand on the door, listening. He caught a couple lines of conversation.

“Where'd the fuck'd he go?”

“He's still up here somewhere.”

Slowly, Levi pulled the handle down and eased the door open, after checking it looked in reasonable condition; it wouldn't do for it to catch or make noise.

Two men, both armed, squinted into the dark. Neither of them reacted to Levi. Levi noticed his fellow passenger trembling at the bottom of the stairs. There was nothing he could do about him now; he should have guessed he was here to stickybeak. It frankly amazed Levi how some people managed to survive to adulthood.

“There he is!”

Levi heard the sound of feet slapping against concrete on a roof nearby, and then he heard nothing at all but the sound of two guns going off simultaneously.

“Police! Drop your weapons!” Levi shouted, and then one of the men did drop his gun, although Levi's bullet punching through his shoulder probably didn't give him a lot of choice. The weapon disappeared into the dark below.

The other assailant turned, swinging his gun at Levi's face. He was practically on top of them, and with the stairway at his back he couldn't dodge back. He whipped his head back, the end of the weapon smacking into his jaw. The sight drew a line of fire across his chin as he brought his arm up, knocked the weapon aside and drove his fist into the man's jaw.

The thug was lucky; it didn't break. Levi had put enough power into his punch that his head snapped back, and his body sagged against the railing. He tried to hit back, but Levi blocked and sank his fist into the man's midsection. He heard the gun hit the floor and the air wheeze from his lungs.

“You're under arrest,” he said. He fished his handcuffs out one-handed, and clicked them around both the gunmen's right wrists, looping them through the railing. “You,” he said, addressing the man gingerly touching his jaw. “Put pressure on his wound. It might look good in court.”

While the gunman started administering first aid one-handed to his wounded partner, Levi called for an ambulance and reported his position and the fact that there were prisoners to be picked up , aware for the first time of an irritating noise behind him.

Elevator man was at the top of the stairs, a large camera apparently glued to his face, as he took picture after picture.

Levi scowled and turned on him. “You! Stop taking photos and stay the hell back. Don't move until more officers arrive.”

“Auruo Bossard, Southport Star ,” Bossard said, backing down a little but paying no attention to Levi's instruction. “That was some fantastic work, officer, do you have any comment?”

Levi just shook his head.

“Talk to our press office,” he muttered. He looked out over the rooftops. Since the guns had gone off, he'd heard nothing from the next building. Shit. He holstered his gun and clambered up onto a large air-conditioning unit.

It was about eight feet between his building and the next one. He'd made longer jumps in his time, he just had to forget about the ten storey drop.

“Officer, what are you doing? Who were they shooting at? Oh my god...”

The air conditioning unit was long enough to give Levi two steps of run-up before he launched himself out off the roof. Easy, he thought as he saw the opposite edge approach. Just like old times.

His ankle twinged as he landed and rather than letting it take his weight he rolled and the concrete hit him harder than he expected, jarring his shoulder and winding him slightly. Okay, he might have forgotten that he wasn't a teenager any more. He scrambled to his feet, and hurried across the roof.

“Eren!” he hissed urgently under his breath. “Eren!”

No one answered him. He strained his ears but heard nothing but distant sirens and rattle of helicopters. Something about the ground under his feet made him stop and bend down for a closer look in the gloom, and his eyes widened.

He knew that smell: blood.

“Hange,” he brought his radio to his mouth. “Go back along Long. Slowly. I think our fox is wounded.”

“Where the hell are you, boss?” Hange replied. “Are you okay? I heard you call for an ambulance-”

“It's not for me,” Levi replied. “Just keep looking.”

At this point, he remembered his chin, and when he glanced down he saw spots of blood on his collar, smear of it on his coat from when he'd landed and he could feel a hot stickiness trickling down his neck . He scowled and pressed his handkerchief to the wound before trying to follow the bloodstains at his feet.

As was to be expected, they petered out after a while. It obviously wasn't a fatal injury, but a bullet wound that had bled that much would still require medical attention.

“Eren!” Levi called, one last time, but he wasn't really expecting an answer.

Levi didn't jump back across the roof. He waited for backup to arrive, and they unlocked the building, cleared out Bossard, and collected the prisoners. The gun that had been dropped over the side was swiftly recovered; luckily no one had seen it fall, or been hit by it on the way down.

“You said you weren't injured!” Hange said accusingly when Levi stepped out onto the street.

“I said the ambulance wasn't for me,” Levi corrected. He could see at a glance that Hange hadn't managed to find Eren, or any other wounded fugitive.

Levi barely paid attention as Hange steered him towards one of the ambulances, and updated him on the rest of the situation. It looked like the wild hunt had been called off and while a handful of other arrests had been made, it hadn't been a conclusive success. At least no one had died so far.

Levi sat in the back of an ambulance, and let one of the paramedics treat his jaw. To his relief it didn't look like he'd need stitches. While the paramedic cleaned him up and applied a dressing, Levi held his phone to his other ear and tried to call Eren. It went to voice-mail. Levi didn't want to look like a jilted lover and leave a bunch of missed calls , and in the end he left a brief message asking Eren to get in touch with him as soon as possible.

Levi could have gone home at that point, and Hange seemed to think he should, but he wouldn't have dreamt of it. While he was being patched up he sent Hange out to find some dinner and they came back with coffee and sandwiches. Levi wolfed his down and drove them both back to the station. He'd refused painkillers so he'd still be able to work and drive, and the entire side of his face ached, and the bandage pulled every time he spoke.

“We've finally got some live fucking witnesses,” Levi said. “Like hell I'm going home.” Until Eren turned up, dead or alive, it was the best lead he had.

“Is it really your job to interview them?” Hange asked cautiously. No one had put Levi in charge of anything; he'd just responded to the call like everyone else.

“No one's told me it's not,” Levi said. “And until they do, it is. Your job, on the other hand, is to check out tonight's crop of gunshot victims in the emergency units.”

“Ooh, lucky me.”

“Hange!” Levi snapped.

“You're worried about him,” Hange said.

“It's why I don't like interesting cases,” Levi said.

“Not the case, Eren. I've never seen you lose your cool when you're working.” Levi didn't answer and Hange continued. “Was there a lot of blood?”

“Not bucketfuls, but they shot him. So it can't be good.”

“ Hm.” Hange rested their elbow on the door and peered out the window at the passing lights. “I wonder what the papers will say about all of this tomorrow. Failure of policing, probably.”

“Fuck if I know,” Levi muttered. He scowled. He would have been more worried about that reporter, Bossard, if he hadn't been so concerned with (concerned with, he told himself, not concerned for) Eren.

Only one of the suspects was available for questioning; the other one was unlikely to come out of anaesthetic before morning. Levi hadn't hit anything vital; at that range he hit exactly what he wanted to, but shoulders were complicated joints and they had to be stitched together the right way if you wanted to keep using your arm as intended.

To Levi's surprise, it wasn't difficult to make the suspect talk. His name was Sawney and he looked even worse than Levi did; the side of his face was swollen and starting to bruise. He didn't look terribly happy to see the man who'd caused all the damage either, but he talked. Maybe he had nothing left to lose.

Sawney was a Titan. Levi recognised the tattoos, and he didn't deny it when he asked him about them.

“Someone's declared war on us!” Sawney said. “So we were waiting for them.”

“Who?” Levi asked. “Who are they? Why have they declared war?”

But Sawney didn't have a clue, and Levi didn't think he had the brains to lie about it. The rank and file had been stirred up and told Father Nick had to be avenged and then they were given nice new weapons and told to wait for one of their strongholds to be invaded. They'd been waiting for a couple of weeks.

“Did we get him?” Sawney asked. “I'm sure I got him! Where is he? I saw you go and look for him.”

Levi shook his head. “I can't help you there. There was no one else on the roof when I got there.”

Sawney was deeply unhappy about this.

They didn't know who he was, or what he looked like. They'd just been waiting for him to strike again, and then they'd been summoned.

“The guys had some serious fire power but they shot too early. He ran. Fucking coward.”

“Yes, fleeing from a dozen men with guns truly suggests a yellow streak a mile wide.”

“What?”

Levi sighed. “Never mind.” He was actually relieved Eren had decided to run; he'd shown no signs of having a self-preservation instinct up until this point.

“So did you get a look at him?” Levi asked.

All Sawney could tell him was that he was very fast, and once they'd started shooting he'd headed for the rooftops. Levi guessed he was trying to reduce the danger to innocent bystanders, rather than taking the easier option of trying to lose himself in the crowd.

Levi didn't think Sawney had anything more to say, and returned him to his cell for the night. Hange had come up empty handed and told Levi they were going to go home. There was nothing more either of them could do tonight.

Levi was convincing himself he'd best be going home as well when he got a text.

Eren.

OMG r u ok?

Levi tried not to feel too relieved; the brat was still alive at least. After a moment's thought he replied, Fine, thanks. Where are you?

at home. y?

Levi didn't answer. He went downstairs, got in his car, and drove.

At this time of night, Eren's apartment building was full of activity. Levi could hear music and televisions and he could smell cooking. He took the stairs two at a time. He got an odd look from the girls coming down as he went up, trailing laugher and perfume behind them.

He thumped his fist on Eren's door, half expecting he'd been lying.

But the door opened, moments later.

“Levi!” Eren saw the bandage on his face and his smile faded. “Levi, what happened? Are you okay?” He ushered him inside.

Eren himself looked fine. He'd clearly just come out of the shower; the ends of his hair were still wet. He hovered around Levi with a concern that Levi didn't think was feigned, looking him up and down, his hands fluttering in impotent concern.

“I saw what happened down town on the news, but I didn't realise you were there. Oh my god, of course you'd be there. What happened?”

“I'm fine!” Levi snapped. “It's just a scratch.” He looked into Eren's eyes. “But since we're on the subject, how are you?”

“I'm good, thanks.” Eren smiled, apparently delighted to be asked.

Levi tried again. It was hard to think when Eren's skin was still almost steaming, and Levi could smell whatever stuff he'd used in the shower clinging faintly to him. Focus.

“I'm not asking because I'm trying to be your friend. Where were you in the last three hours?”

“I was here,” Eren said.

“Can anyone verify that?”

“No.”

“Why was your phone turned off?”

“I've got this bioscience exam coming up,” Eren said. “And um, I'm not doing so well in it and I was trying to study so I turned my phone off.” He shrugged, “And then I fell asleep and woke up and had a shower-”

“Okay, so an alibi just as shitty as all your other alibis.”

Eren laughed, “Hey, maybe someday I'll have a really good alibi and surprise you.”

Levi frowned. Eren didn't look injured in the slightest, but he wouldn't put it past him to be bluffing.

“Lift your shirt up,” Levi said.

“Wha? Um, okay.” He didn't argue, but he did colour slightly. And then he did as he was told, the corners of his mouth curling mischievously.

Levi forgot why he'd asked for a few moments. Eren's torso was lean and tanned, and there was a mole just over his right hipbone and a dusting of fine brown hair on his chest and darker line of it below his navel. The expression on his face suggested he knew exactly how good he looked.

No gunshot wounds.

“Okay, you can stop,” Levi said. He pinched the bridge of his nose as Eren pulled his shirt down again. “Maybe I was wrong.” Maybe. “Someone left plenty of blood behind on that rooftop.”

“And you thought it was me?” Eren didn't seem surprised by this.

“Who else walks into a Titan stronghold looking for trouble? We're all fucking lucky no one died given the number of rounds that were discharged this evening,” he answered absently, his mind still on Eren's lack of injuries.

Shit. Could he really have been this wrong? Maybe he hoped so.

Eren just hung his head and didn't say anything.

“Please,” Levi said. “Just give us a DNA sample.”

“No,” Eren said quietly.

“Why the fuck not?” Levi snarled.

“Because then you'd have no reason to talk to me any more!” Eren recoiled, like he'd said more than he intended. Levi could see the muscles in his neck move as he swallowed.

Right.

“Well,” Levi said. Speaking was like pushing stones up a hill. It was probably not a good idea to say this, and his pride rebelled at the very idea, but if it got Eren to take the fucking test, maybe it would be worth it. He wanted to be wrong. “Maybe if you did I'd have more reason.”

Eren stared at him for a few moments, lips slightly parted in shock, and Levi knew what was coming because he could feel it in the air between them like an approaching storm. But he pretended he didn't so when Eren took one step forward and pounced on him Levi could only make a muffled sound of surprise as Eren pressed his mouth, hot, welcoming, desperate, against his. He was careful of the bandage, his hand cupping the undamaged side of Levi's face.

And Levi kissed him back. He hadn't really meant to but all the air and common sense seemed to have left the room, and he was honest enough to know he'd wanted to do this since the day they'd met. But he didn't move. He didn't wrap his arms around him and push him over to the ratty old couch, as much as his instincts were screaming at him to do so. As much as he could sense how much Eren would have been okay with it. More than okay; he kissed like he was going to die in the next five minutes.

“I'm glad you're okay, so glad,” Eren breathed against his mouth, his forehead resting against Levi's.

“Take the fucking test,” Levi replied. He felt Eren tense up and saw the guilt in his eyes as Eren try to work out how to refuse again. His heart sank. “For fuck's sake.” He shoved him back and Eren let himself be shoved, stumbling a bit and hanging his head, looking guilty.

“It is you, isn't it?” Levi shook his head. “How? I forgot you can do the physically impossible. Why not shrug off a bullet wound while we're at it?”

He still didn't respond, other than by staring at his feet, still breathing heavily. He sounded less amorous and more like he was trying not to cry. Levi didn't want to know. He didn't want to see what sort of mess the events of this evening had made of Eren; he had his own to sort out. And it wasn't his responsibility, he told himself, wiping Eren's spit off his lips with the back of his hand.

Shit.

Levi turned on his heel and stormed out.

Chapter Text

Levi's phone rang early the next morning. It had taken him a long time to get to sleep the night before; his heart felt like celebrating and his mind wanted beat itself to death and fruitlessly trying to reconcile the two had him tossing and turning and frowning for what felt like hours.

He hadn't felt attraction quite like this for a long time, and the fact that it was enthusiastically reciprocated was maddening. He'd meant it. If Eren had taken himself off the suspect list he would have ridden his motorcycle again and cooked for him, if either of them had found the time for it between the ridiculous amounts of sex he was fairly sure they'd be having. And for a few moments he'd convinced himself that such a thing was possible. A few moments, nothing more, but it had been enough. He still felt Eren's hand on his face more vividly than the wound on the other side.

Light was filtering in through the blinds when Levi groped for his phone. He slitted his eyes open and frowned when he saw Erwin's name. What did he want at this hour?

“Erwin?” he mumbled sleepily, rubbing his face with his free hand.

“Ah, good morning. Have you seen the paper yet?”

“What? It's,” he glanced at the bedside clock. “Not even six yet. How come you've read the paper already?”

“I thought you knew. I'm always up at five-thirty for my tai chi practice.”

Levi groaned. This information rang some sort of faint bell, and explained why Erwin sounded so awake. It was moments like this that Levi hated him the most. “Well now I know I'll do my best to forget.”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Of course you fucking woke me up!” Levi sat up, anger giving him a jolt of energy. “And you still haven't said why.”

“You're on the front page of the Southport Star,” Erwin understated beautifully.

Levi's jaw dropped, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Bossard,” he growled.

“Mhm. Big exclusive on the events that happened in the city last night. The story's on page two and four as well. You're the hero of the hour.” Levi could hear the rustling of paper in the background. “I just thought I'd let you know, give you a bit of warning before you went in to work.”

Levi sighed. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. What should I do now?” Erwin was good at this stuff, maybe he'd have some advice.

“Brace yourself. You'll just have to ride it out.”

“Right.”

Erwin hung up and Levi just sat in bed, staring at nothing for a few moments. Looking on the bright side, Eren Jaeger was no longer his biggest concern this morning. Levi scowled and flung the blankets off; since he was awake so early he had time to clean his oven before work.

“Fist of Justice!” Hange said when Levi arrived at work, standing up at their desk and saluting him.

“I saw it,” Levi said shortly. His punch hadn't actually made the front page; Bossard had gone with one of the photographs he'd taken while Levi was ordering him to stop taking them. He'd caught him mid-turn, authoritative and calm and streaked with his own blood, like something out of a movie poster.

“It's a seriously nice picture,” Hange said, holding up their copy of the Southport Star and admiring it. “Every law abiding teenager in the city going to put this on their walls- we could use it as recruitment poster. Dectective Levi wants you.”

“To shut the fuck up,” Levi growled. He slumped in his chair.

“The Lieutenant wanted to see you when you got in,” Hange said.

“I'm not surprised.”

“You're probably not in trouble; what could have been a disaster has turned into a PR coup. The Star had nothing but good things to say about your work, and by association the rest of the us.”

Levi shrugged. Positive or not, media attention was never something he sought. He went to speak to the Lieutenant.

Lieutenant Pixis usually left Levi to his own devices, and Levi appreciated that, so he did his best to return the favour should Pixis request anything of him personally. He did have to draw the line somewhere, however.

“Press conference? Me? Technically it's not even my case.”

“It is now,” Pixis said. His office was far too cluttered for Levi's tastes, the walls lined with commendations and pictures of Pixis's extensive family and his desk loaded with files. The room smelled faintly of yesterday's lunch and Levi wondered if he ever opened the window. Pixis himself wore a beatific smile that Levi knew from experience bore absolutely no relation to his actual mood.

“What?”

“After the show you put on last night, we'd be asked some questions if we didn't assign you to the case. Besides, it looks like you were two steps ahead of everyone else from the start. Our new evidence will be the topic of our press conference.”

“What do you mean?'

“Blood on the roof matches the DNA we found at Balto's house. Hopefully making this connection public will head off any gang wars before they start. We're looking for one very dangerous individual. So the two investigations are being merged and in the process, you're joining them.”

Well whaddya know.

“Please don't put me in front of a microphone, Sir,” Levi said.

“I wasn't planning on it.” Pixis dropped the twinkly-eyed grandfather act. “You're very, very lucky that Bossard seems to think you're Southport's answer to Superman. I don’t recall it being an approved police tactic to shoot a suspect in the back before he’s had a chance to comply with police instructions.”

“He was shooting at someone. It was my duty to defend them, no matter who they might be.”

“As it turned out after the fact. He could just as easily have been taking potshots at a stray cat. I’d add the use of fists is not condoned by the Department either, no matter how good it might look in the papers the next day.”

“Lieutenant Pixis, with respect,” Levi draw breath to do battle, but Pixis forestalled him by holding up a calloused hand.

“I’m not going to chew a strip off you today, Detective. I just want you to be aware of how lucky you were, not least because if you hadn’t been as lucky as you were you might well have taken a bullet to the teeth instead of a pistol whipping to the jaw.”

“Sir.”

“You’re going to attend the press conference,” Pixis said. “And you’re going to stand where the cameras can see you and you’re going to look attentive at all times and try not to say anything.”

That suited Levi just fine and he nodded. He waited to be dismissed but Pixis wasn’t letting him go that easily. His bandage itched. He’d changed it that morning, but he hadn’t applied it as expertly as the paramedic had and a corner kept pulling slightly loose. He wanted Pixis to get on with it.

“I always thought your one failing was that you’re a good cop,” Pixis said. “Too good. A certain inflexibility when it comes to the grey areas of our profession has not stood you in good stead. Frankly, I think it’s a bit of a shame, but greater powers than I make these decisions.”

Levi didn’t answer.

“But I never figured you’d go rogue.”

“I’m not going rogue.”

“I saw the pictures in the paper, Levi. I’ve seen my fair share of suicide by job, but that was not what I was looking at. It’s not like you to leap into the firing line.”

Oh fuck, he was trying to communicate. Levi would have preferred to be shouted at. He didn’t know what to say; he couldn’t tell the truth, which was that he was prepared to risk his own life to try and save Eren’s. He could barely admit it to himself, let alone Pixis.

“You’ve had a bee in your bonnet about Balto’s killer for a while, haven’t you? It seems we should have taken you a bit more seriously.”

Levi shook his head, “I had no proof, it was just a feeling I got. Look, if I’m attached to the Balto task force, what about my other cases?”

“Hange is perfectly capable. Besides, I thought you were about ready to shelve the Bodt case.”

Pixis really did keep his ear close to the ground.

“No evidence,” Levi said. “Unreliable witness.”

“It happens.”

“A lot,” Levi looked up and met his gaze. Pixis had strange eyes, almost gold in colour, and he was very hard to read. You didn’t have a career as long as his in a place like Southport without being very crooked, very lucky, or very clever.

“Is that what this is about? Now’s your chance to make some progress. With the DNA linking Balto with what happened yesterday, we’ve got a whole lot to work on.”

“Whoever killed Balto was a victim yesterday, not a perp,” Levi said. “They were out to kill him. Balto’s dead but these fuckers-”

“Balto is a higher priority.”

“They shot up the city! There are what, four civilians in hospital? We got off really lightly; that could easily have been forty.”

“ Balto has priority. It’s been hanging over us for weeks. This, for all its drama, was just another gang related shooting. We know about the Titans and there’s only so much we can do with the resources we have. Commissioner’s orders, Levi; we've been put under a lot of pressure about this for weeks and this is finally the break we need . Don’t argue with me about it.” His tone suggested that f inally Levi was being dismissed.

Talking with Pixis hadn't really improved Levi's mood. He checked his phone as he went back to his desk, but Eren hadn't contacted him, and why should he? Levi didn't know what he'd been expecting.

Levi put his phone away and gave Hange the news about his reassignment.

“This is good, isn't it?” they said. “It's what you wanted; your theories are finally being listened to.”

“Yeah.” He couldn't muster any real enthusiasm. “I have to attend a press conference first.”

Hange looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time that day. “You look like shit,” they said. “And I don't just mean the massive bruise on your jaw. Are you sure you should be in today?”

“What else have I got to do?” Levi asked, collecting his coat. “I'm fine. It only hurts when I laugh.”

Hange didn't react to his joke, they were still frowning. “Is Eren okay, do you know?”

“Yeah. Not a scratch on him,” Levi said bitterly.

“So after all this you were wrong about him?” Hange sighed. “No wonder you're pissed off. But that's good news, isn't it?” They leaned back in their chair. “I mean, you're now free to-”

“Hange! Drop it. Please.” He glanced at them and they nodded. “I have to go.”

He went.

Talking to the press was worse than giving evidence. There was no judge to rule a question out of order, or strike an answer from the record, and there was certainly little interest in the truth, only in what would sell papers. Today, what sold papers was a story of heroism and duty, but tomorrow it could easily be one of incompetence and corruption. One was as accurate as the other, really.

The mass of media reminded him of an insect, all lenses and legs, always mindlessly hungry for the next piece of useful information that could be spun into something that would sell. Bossard was in the front row, and this time he had a cameraman with him so he had his hands free to make notes. For every line of praise he'd written about Levi, there was its unspoken shadow; he'd been there too, and he happily accepted the role he'd assigned himself in the story. Hero reporter by association with the hero cop. He was trying to look serious, but it was clear he was having the time of his life. Levi didn't move a muscle as Bossard directed his cameraman to take a few shots of Levi.

Levi was told where to stand, and he did so. He wasn't the only policeman sporting a few bruises; most of the officers who'd been involved in the events of the night before were there to be praised for their bravery.

Including Reiner.

During the course of the press conference, which Levi listened to very carefully, Reiner managed to work his way through the group until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with him. Levi ignored the intrusion until the Commissioner opened the floor for questions and the resulting hubbub made conversation possible.

“Unlucky again,” Reiner murmured. “They even managed to hit him but he still got away.”

“And what part did you play last night?” Levi asked, barely moving his lips to speak.

“That's not the issue. This is two for two, isn't it?”

“It's not my blood on the roof,” Levi said. “So I don't know what you think you're implying.”

“Of course not. But this fucker's awfully lucky for someone working alone. Maybe someone's helping him. Someone who has access to police files, maybe? Someone who doesn't quite fit in with the way things are done around here.”

“A question for Detective Levi,” Bossard called, and Reiner fell silent. “Firstly, how are you feeling today, Detective? That bruise looks nasty.”

“It looks worse than it is, Mr Bossard, thank you for asking.”

“That's excellent. Can I get your opinion- your personal opinion,” he added in a louder voice when the press officer tried to forestall him. “On who is behind all of this. Is he a new type of criminal setting up some sort of empire, or is he in fact someone who sees himself as a hero?”

Jesus Christ.

“Mr Bossard, this is reality not a movie and we respectfully request civilians leave the police work to us, and resist the urge to don a cape and tights.” There was a ripple of polite laughter at this and the press officer swiftly called for the next question before Bossard could restate his, since Levi had most certainly avoided answering it.

“Whatever he is,” Reiner said. “He's dead when they get him. Poor bastard.”

“You seem to think that the fact that we are in public is all that protects me right now,” Levi said. “In fact, it protects you.”

“Is that threat?”

“Yes. I don't approve of vigilantism, but the concept of self-defence is another matter entirely.”

“Then where is he? Who is he?”

“You're on the task force as well, aren't you? Find out yourself, earn a promotion.” Levi was done.

Luckily, the press conference was as well, and he could escape.

There was no shortage of work; now that a solid link had been found between the Titans and Balto's death, all the data had to be gone over again, witnesses had to be re-interviewed, and all the new members of the task force had to be brought up to speed. It was a day spent in meetings and in front of screens and Levi didn't mind too much. He'd rather have been in the gym or scrubbing his bathroom floor but it was better than nothing.

Thanks to that morning's headlines, people were now dropping by the office to talk to him, rather than gawk at Hange. Levi wasn't really in the mood for good-natured ribbing, but he had no choice but to endure it. Hange bought him an hour off by inviting him out to lunch, and they sat on a bench in one of the tiny city parks, just across from the station, Hange eating packed sandwiches while Levi nursed a coffee and smoked, his forearms resting on his knees.

It was a grey day and all the colours looked washed out and muted. This park was too small to invite joggers, but plenty of office workers came here to eat lunch. Levi watched them blankly.

“You want one?”

“What?”

Hange offered him their lunch-box. “Egg and lettuce and mayo.”

Levi shook his head. “No. Not in a million years. If your kitchen's anything like your desk it's probably harbouring new forms of life.”

“You clearly need to talk to someone,” Hange said. “Even if it's not me. What about Smith?”

“Erwin? I'd rather not.” Levi sighed, and decided to share at least some of his burdens. “I got warned off today. Apparently I'm in league with the vigilante.”

“Shit. Levi, you need to-”

“I don't. Even the Titans think twice before killing cops. And I'd back myself in a fight against any one of them.” Levi shrugged, “I just don't know where to go from here.”

“Maybe you should take a break, boss,” Hange said. “I know what you'll say, but I've never seen you like this. I'll be honest; it's unnerving.”

“I'm not exactly patting myself on the back over this either. But I can't just stop; more people are going to die.”

“Well, if there's anything you need me to do, just ask.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” Levi stepped on his cigarette and looked at his watch. “Time's up.”

Hange crammed the last of their sandwich into their mouth and they started walking back.

Standing outside the front doors, gazing up at the police sign was a familiar figure.

“What's she doing here?” Hange asked.

Mikasa Ackerman must have sensed she was being watched, because she turned towards them, and her eyes widened when she recognised them. In casual clothes she looked less like the warrior she'd appeared to be at kendo practice, but she still held herself like someone preparing to deflect the next blow; not tense, but alert.

“You!” She strode over to them, her boots tapping on the pavement. Despite the fact that they were not related by blood, Levi could see the similarities; she wore exactly the same kind of determined expression that Eren did. “I can't believe I didn't notice it before.” She said, halting in front of Levi. “You're him, aren't you? Eren's hero cop.”

“What?” Hange asked, looking between them with a puzzled smile.

“Hange,” Levi said. “Head in. I'll handle this.”

“Yes, boss.” He could tell Hange wanted to argue, but knew Levi too well to do so.

“I'll buy you coffee,” Levi said to Mikasa. “Since I doubt you want to chat in one of our interview rooms.”

She looked at him warily for a few moments. “I appreciate it,” she said abruptly.

She didn't say anything more until they'd found a table at Sasha's and been served. Levi didn't really want any more coffee, but it gave him something to do with his hands and he couldn't smoke in here.

“So you know what Eren thinks of you,” she said.

“I know what he thought, I can't speak for his current opinion,” Levi said carefully.

“It pissed me off,” Mikasa said. “He pinned all his hopes on you, and even when Carla's death went unpunished, it didn't seem to change his opinion.” She turned her cup around in her hands. “And here you are, once again a hero, and I can't help thinking that this is all your fault somehow.”

“What's all my fault?” Levi asked.

“He went out on his bike sometime last night according to his neighbours and he hasn't come back. He's not answering his phone or responding to texts.” She said this almost accusingly, and it took all Levi had not to look guilty.

“Has he done this before?” he asked.

“What a cop question,” Mikasa said, curling her lip a little. “What it means is, 'is she hysterical or do I actually need to do some work?'” Before Levi could object she continued, “No, it's not like him. He's got classes today and work later, and he doesn't miss either of those unless he's sick.”

“Look, if you report him missing-”

Mikasa shook her head, “No, I don't want to do that.”

“So why are you here?”

“Armin said this had something to do with you, and he's usually right about things like this.”

“Armin. Eren's friend.”

“He's my friend too.” Mikasa looked at him intently, “Was he right?”

“Probably,” Levi said, resigned.

“I knew it, I knew this was your fault.”

“I didn't say that.” Shit. He couldn't really argue with her. “What do you want me to do?”

“Find him! Bring him back safe!”

“Look, you clearly care about your brother, but we both know he's getting into things that were going to come back to bite him sooner or later.”

She flicked her gaze up at him and then down to her drink again. She pressed her lips together tightly and frowned.

He didn't want her to clam up, and he softened his tone. “Tell me what you know. Tell me what you suspect, at least. I don't want to see him hurt any more than you do.”

“You accused him of murder.”

“And I stand by that accusation.”

“Then why are you- Urgh!” Her fingers curled into fists, “Are you always this irritating?”

“Yes. Ms Ackerman.” He pinned her with his gaze. “You either tell me what you know, or I get up and leave.”

She didn't say anything for a little while, frowning. “If I do, will you try and find him? You promise me.”

“Yeah.”

Mikasa nodded. “I'll trust you. I don't have any other choice, do I?”

“You could take your chances with a missing person's report.”

“When I was nine years old,” Mikasa began. “I came home from school and discovered that the reason I hardly saw my father was because he was in debt. And that day they came to collect.”

Chapter Text

Levi's coffee went cold. He didn't even notice.

“He'd tied a knife to the end of a broom,” Mikasa continued in the low, even tone she'd used to describe the horrifying story so far. “And he didn't hesitate. As soon as he saw an opening he attacked. I couldn't see what was going on at first. And then the other guy appeared.”

Levi wasn't taking notes. It wasn't something he wanted on the record, and he didn't think he'd forget a word of it anyway. She was so calm, like she was retailing events that had happened in a book, or to someone else.

“I picked up the knife,” she said. “He'd lifted him up into the air, had his hands around his throat. I knew he'd kill him, like he killed my father.” She met Levi's eyes for the first time since she'd started speaking. “So I held the knife out in front of me and ran at him. It went right in.” She faltered for the first time. “And he dropped Eren. And I... pulled it back out and...”

Levi gave her an out. She didn't need to relive the details for him. “What happened afterwards?” he asked.

“Grisha was waiting in a car outside. I didn't know what was going to happen to me, or where I should go. Eren said, he said I was coming home with them. And I did.”

They sat in silence for a while, a silence that pushed back the noise of the cafe around them. Levi understood, now, the way Mikasa stood beside Eren. He'd killed two men when he was nine; no wonder Levi had underestimated him. He didn't know what to do with this information just yet; he needed to consider it properly. Most of all, he wanted to hear Eren's side of the story.

That wasn't likely to happen. Mikasa sat in silence, like a penitent awaiting judgement, and in a way, Levi supposed she was. He was impressed, not only by her actions at the time, but her courage in telling him now. He could tell her trust was forced; she didn't want to have to deal with him, but she'd gone through the same thing Eren had. She knew the system didn't work and that you could only hope you met the right individuals within it.

“You're name's not Ackerman, is it?” Levi asked eventually. “That's why they never found your family.”

“No. It was just a name I'd heard somewhere. As far as I knew my mother was still alive, but if they found out what had happened, if we were reunited, they'd probably kill her and me. It was safer if I stayed with the Jaegers, I decided.”

“So you lied, unflinchingly, to everyone. The cops, the judge, Grisha-”

“What would you have me do?” she cried.

“I'm not judging you, I'm impressed. You were nine years old and you sacrificed so much to protect your mother.”

“Oh.” She looked away.

“To survive, you did what you needed to do. I understand.”

She took a deep breath, “So you're not going to arrest me?”

“For what? Even if I had incontrovertible proof that your story is true, you were acting in self-defence. No one would argue that a trafficked child didn't have the right to try and win back her freedom.”

“What about Eren?” she asked warily.

“If I arrest him it won't be for that. You haven't sold him out. One thing puzzles me; you said Grisha was waiting in the car. So he sent his nine year old son in to kill three men?”

“I didn't really think about it at the time. Eren was Eren; as far as I was concerned he'd saved me by himself. Although, now you mention it, it's strange. We never talked about it; I never wanted to talk about it, and Eren didn't either.”

“What do you know about Grisha?”

“Not much. He was fine as a father, I suppose. He provided for us, and he wasn't abusive. But he was distant too; like we were a favourite house plant he came to water every day, but the rest of his life went on elsewhere.”

“When did you last hear from him?” Levi asked.

“About six months ago. He called and asked if I needed money, but I'm on a full scholarship so I turned him down.”

“Eren said something similar. And now even we don't know where he is.”

“The police are looking for him?”

“Not exactly. He's the kind of person we keep an eye on.”

“I see. That makes sense. Do you think he's dead?” Mikasa asked.

“It's possible.”

She considered this for a few moments. “I hope not. He gave me a home, after all.”

“And a brother,” Levi said softly.

She took a deep breath. “I've told you everything I know,” she said. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“I said I would. Give me your number.”

She looked slightly relieved but not entirely. “I just hope you're as good as Eren thinks you are.”

“No one's that good,” Levi said. “But I have some idea where I might begin. Thank you, Ms Ackerman,” he added, when she recited her number for him.

“Mikasa,” she said. “I guess.”

“Mikasa. Officially, I've heard nothing; the past will stay where it is. I suspect wherever Grisha hid the bodies we're not likely to find them anyway, not after ten years.”

“Good. Just find Eren, that's all I care about now.” She stood up and collected her bag, and Levi merely nodded and let her go. He needed some time to think and plan his next move. Given the guilt on Eren's face the night before and his propensity to make a bad situation worse, Levi was quite sure he was working on getting himself into trouble.

Okay then, he'd approach this from the other side. He went back to work; he wanted a look at the duty roster.

Reiner owned a black Dodge pickup that Levi instinctively hated on sight. It was all he could do to keep his keys in his pockets while he waited leaning against the bonnet for Reiner himself to appear and smoking.

He didn't have to wait long. He knew when Reiner's shift finished, and Reiner had stopped only to change out of his uniform and into civilian clothes before heading out to his car. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Levi waiting for him, arms folded.

“Whadda you want?” he stalked up, glancing from side to side as if Levi were about to spring a trap.

He was, of course, but not in the way Reiner expected.

“To settle this bullshit, if you've got the stones for it.”

“Oh? How?”

“Christ you're thick. In the ring, where else?”

Levi got the satisfaction of watching Reiner's face light up. “Heh. It's been a long time since you had a proper fight, Levi. And I wouldn't go easy on you just because you scraped your chin.”

“I don't have time for you, Reiner. Either you front up, or you get out of my face and you stay out of my face. Because you talk an awful lot of shit-”

“All right, you little prick. I was starting to think I wouldn't get a chance to wipe that stupid fucking expression off your ugly mug. When I'm done with you, you're gonna need some sick leave.”

“Okay.”

“Are we betting on this or what?” Reiner looked confident, even under his bluster, swinging his arms slightly in anticipation. Levi hadn't moved.

“I wouldn't touch your money with gloves on,” Levi said. “This is for honour, if you understand the concept.”

“You would say that,” Reiner sneered. “Always acting like your shit don't stink, like you're too clean for the rest of us. What kind of audience are you expecting, Levi? Cause other than that freak with glasses you ain't got no friends.”

“I don't need an audience. In fact, if you remember what I said earlier, if anyone needs one it's you.”

“You're gonna just walk off somewhere with no witnesses and let me beat the pulp out of you?”

“I'll enjoy watching you try. Come on, I don't have all night.”

Reiner grinned, and Levi followed him silently to the gym. If he'd suggested a bare-knuckle fight in an alleyway Levi wouldn't have objected, but this suited him just as well. There were a few people training in the gym, but Reiner simply ordered them out and something in his eye forestalled any arguments.

Levi silently got changed and taped up his hands, warming up before the fight while Reiner followed suit. He didn't necessarily think Reiner would be a pushover; clearly he'd had some experience, and he had nearly a foot of height on him. But he was also young and dumb, and looking forward to this far too much.

By the time they climbed into the ring, the gym was empty.

“Any last words?” Reiner asked.

Levi raised his gloved fists silently in answer.

They darted around each other, trying to size up what sort of challenge lay ahead. Levi knew he had a physical disadvantage; he had less reach, but he was lighter and more agile despite being older, and he'd been fighting a long time.

He'd managed to get some solid hits on Reiner's meaty torso when Reiner managed to outpace his defence. Reiner's fist connected with his jaw, and Levi could feel yesterday's wound bloom into new, bloody life. He rocked back, trying to absorb the hit. It felt like his teeth were rattling in his skull; Reiner was as strong as he looked.

The larger man tried to press his advantage and Levi returned the favour, bloodying his nose and darting away. He couldn't afford to draw this out and wait for Reiner to tire himself, which would have been Levi's strategy under other circumstances.

The only sound was their breathing and the arrhythmic thuds of their blows landing. Levi knew he couldn't take too many of those hits Reiner dished out; he could endure a lot, but he wasn't superhuman, and his jaw was still aching. At least the bandage was holding. So he launched a concerted assault on Reiner's defences, forcing him to block rather than attack, pushing him across the ring, waiting for him to screw up.

Which he would, eventually. No one kept a perfect guard up indefinitely, and Levi was throwing everything he had into breaking it.

Levi feinted, ducked, struck out at Reiner's stomach.

WHAM.

Reiner wheezed, bringing his arms down to protect himself too late. That had to hurt; Levi had put all the force he was capable of mustering into it.

Reiner curled down slightly over his injured torso, and Levi caught an odd look in his eye a split second before he head-butted him. Bone met bone with a crack, and Levi stumbled back, his head ringing with pain.

“You piece of shit,” Reiner growled, breathless. “You're going to regret this.”

Now Levi wished he didn't have his gloves. He couldn't grab and gouge, but Reiner couldn't either, and Levi bared his teeth.

He didn't need rules either.

Reiner came at him like a bear, and Levi lashed out with his foot, kicking the inside of his knee, vaulting up elbow him in the face. Reiner dodged away, and Levi pursued. He'd made such a big fucking mistake; he hadn't realised the rules didn't protect Levi, they protected him from Levi, and it was a lesson he was going to learn the hard way.

Intellectually, Levi knew he was in pain. He knew his body was making demands for oxygen his lungs were struggling to keep up with. He could feel bruises forming. But instinctively he knew victory was within his grasp, and he pursued it with complete focus. He could see what Reiner was going to do next; every move was anticipated, every weak point exploited. Levi went after his joints; his knees, his elbows, his shoulders, the floor beneath his feet slippery with blood and sweat, most of the former coming from Reiner's nose.

Levi remembered what it was like to fight for his life.

Reiner bellowed, infuriated, and rushed at Levi. Levi rolled out of the way and sprung to his feet, Reiner's back to him. He aimed a solid kick right above Reiner's kidneys, and when it connected he nearly broke his foot; Reiner would be pissing blood later if he wasn't lucky. He gasped and staggered in pain, and Levi leaped on him, tackling him to the floor, his legs wrapped around Reiner's torso as he fell face-first to the floor.

Levi wrapped one hand around his neck and lifted Reiner's head slightly so he could talk into his ear.

“So, you're going tell me what's going down tonight. If you don't, an unfortunate boxing accident is going to put you in a wheelchair.”

Reiner's eyes were wide and he was breathing erratically through his nose.

“Fffuuck you.”

Levi moved his hand and used the heel of his other one to bounce Reiner's face against the floor, smacking the back of his head.

“One more chance,” he said.

This was the trick to it, the trick he'd learned when shaking down pedestrians all those years ago. You could be kind, you could be generous, but if for those moments when you asked -for the money, for the watch, for the phone- you had to believe you were cruel. You had to live it, you had to accept that you would kill if you had to, however regretfully. If they didn't believe you, you'd lost, and then you'd be forced to back your words up.

“We were just told to show up,” Reiner choked out, Levi's fingers digging into his windpipe again. “Old cannery at ten.”

“By who?” Levi asked.

Reiner shut his eyes and braced himself.

“Okay, whoever. I don't care. See, that wasn't so hard,” Levi said. “But if I were you, I wouldn't keep that appointment. Stay home and put some ice on your bruises.”

“I knew you were involved,” Reiner said.

“What are you talking about?” Levi released him and swiftly backed away, but he didn't retaliate, instead starting to pick himself up off the floor. “I'm pursuing my investigation.”

Levi left him, tugging at the ties on his gloves with his teeth as he hurried away. It wasn't yet seven, but both parties would attempt to arrive at this meeting early, and once Reiner got the word out, plans would most certainly be brought forward.

So he didn't even shower and he was stuffing his tie into his pocket as he hurried out of the building.

The old cannery dated back from when Southport made its money in fish rather than trade. It was an impressive building in a way but long decayed, its windows broken and its brickwork stained and chipped. It was too far away from the city centre to be considered worthwhile preserving, surrounded as it was by a wasteland of other industrial projects, but its historical significance had saved it from the wrecking ball, so far at least.

So it mouldered, and rats scurried across its scarred floors, spiders strung webs across its rusting conveyor belts, and teenage junkies would go there to shoot up. Levi had never had much cause to pay attention to it.

Now he was trying to remember where exactly it was, and how he should approach it. Eventually he parked his car a couple of blocks away in the empty parking lot behind an engineering firm, out of sight of the street and safe enough.

He felt invincible. He knew it was just a high from the fight, but it was one he hadn’t felt in such a long time and he wasn’t prepared for the endorphins. He felt like he could rip a car in half. He couldn’t afford to wait around and calm down, either.

So he got moving, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his lips drawn back in an anxious grin that was closer to a grimace. He checked his gun, and set off for the cannery at a jog. He kept a sharp eye out for Titans who might have arrived early, but the meeting was scheduled for hours hence, and the place was still quiet. A homeless guy approached Levi, probably noting his suit, but as soon as he caught the look in Levi’s eye he backed away again, apologising for troubling him.

Levi ignored him. Sure, he felt like the meanest thing on Southport’s streets, and it would be enough for the beggars to give him a wide berth, but he wasn’t bulletproof.

The cannery’s doors stood open to the elements. Once this place worked around the clock to gut and tin the thousands of pounds of fish pulled from the sea beyond Southport’s harbour, but now it looked like no one had visited in years, save for the vandals who had covered the building’s crumbling walls in incomprehensible swathes of colour.

It started to rain. Southport’s murky light was caught by the clouds and reflected back, giving everything a pale purplish radiance. There were only a few working streetlights here, and Levi avoided them; he didn’t want to be a target. He averted his eyes from them as well, doing his best to preserve his night vision.

This was incredibly stupid. Pixis’s accusation that he was going rogue floated across his mind. He felt rogue, right then; a law unto himself. Maybe Eren felt like this all the time. Levi could see why it might be addictive.

He stopped and listened, just outside the cannery’s gaping doors. It was too dark to see anything inside; beyond the doors was a solid wall of black that could have hidden a hundred men and Levi wouldn’t have seen them.

Nothing struck him as out of the ordinary. The rain grew heavier, and the sound of it filling the gutters at the side of the street drowned out anything else.

Levi put his hand on the butt of his revolver, inside his coat, and blinked water out of his eyes as he stalked in.

He knew he was silhouetted against the reflected light outside, but he wanted to be. He stood in the doorway, and waited, his hand on his gun and his heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest. No one shot him. The back of his neck prickled.

Maybe he was too early.

“Oi!” he shouted, and his voice echoed flatly down the barn-like structure before him. He could see the windows down the side, but nothing else, no matter how much he blinked. He heard movement somewhere above him, a scuffling sound that might have been rats.

The footsteps on an iron ladder definitely weren’t though. Levi waited, unmoving, as they approached.

“What are you doing here?” Eren asked, he sounded hurt, betrayed even. Levi could barely make him out as he approached, a moving shape in the dark accompanied by the rustle of garbage under his feet. “It’s not safe.”

“I know,” Levi said. “I’m here to rescue your sorry arse before you get it handed to you.”

“Fuck off!”

“Make me.” Levi gritted his teeth. This was ridiculously childish, but sometimes it felt like he was dealing with a child. “Do you want a go?” he asked. “I’ve already taken apart someone twice your size tonight, there’s plenty more where that came from.” He took his hand out of his jacket. The thought of battling Eren and his unknown source of strength made him pause, but he was prepared to give it his best if he had to.

“What? No! Just leave me alone. No one else is going to get hurt out here. I didn’t ask you to come. I know what I’m doing.” All he could see of Eren was a vague shape and the occasional gleam reflecting off his eyes.

Now he’d heard everything. Levi was trying to decide if he was better of throwing a punch rather than wasting his breath, when the vague sound of traffic coalesced into the purposeful buzz of several motorcycles coming down the near-deserted street. Levi ducked out of the doorway, stepping aside and glancing down the street.

“No time left to argue,” he said. “We’ve gotta go.”

“Why are they here now?”

“Because they know I am,” Levi said. “They think I’m working with you.”

“What?”

Levi stepped over and seized Eren’s wrist. His skin felt cold, like he’d been out here all day. “We have to go. You might think you’re bulletproof, and fuck, maybe you are. But for my sake, we have to leave.”

“You go then, I’ll hold them off.” Eren didn’t try to pull away, although Levi could sense the tension in his arm.

“I’m not leaving without you,” Levi said quietly. “You better think quick.”

“This is bullshit!” Eren hissed. The headlamp of one of the motorcycles briefly illuminated his scowling face.

Levi tugged sharply on his arm, and to his infinite relief, Eren followed him when he darted further back into the cannery.

“Is there a back way out?” he asked, as they felt their way as quickly as the could past broken machinery and over piles of rubbish. Levi let go of Eren’s wrist to make it easier to move, and Eren stuck with him.

“Yeah there’s a couple.”

They ducked behind a huge, rusting vat as the roar of engine noise filled the building as two of the bikes drove right in. Levi listened intently.

“There are more around the side,” he muttered. “Come on.”

“You’re not gonna call for backup?” Eren asked.

“We can’t dig in and defend ourselves here for long,” Levi said. “There’s no safe place to hide. We have to get out.” Levi drew his gun.

“I’m sorry,” Eren whispered. “This isn't how it's supposed to go.”

“Later,” Levi said. “If we survive.”

Chapter Text

They moved fast, not worrying about making noise for now for the roar of the bikes reverberated around the factory almost deafening them and most certainly drowning out any sounds they were making. Levi let Eren lead him through to the back, the headlights giving them some indirect illumination. Even so, they stumbled. Levi kept one hand held out, and Eren would tug his sleeve when they had to change direction.

They were going in the opposite direction to Levi's car, and when they paused by a doorway, Levi pulled Eren down so he could talk into his ear.

“Where's your bike?”

Eren's breath was warm against his cheek when he replied, “I hid it down an alley like three blocks that way.” Levi felt him turn as he gestured.

It was no closer than his car.

“I don't like our chances if we're chased on foot,” Levi said. He peered out the doorway. “Wait until they do another pass, and then sprint for that gap over there.”

Eren didn't reply.

“We're running, we're not fighting, you understand?”

“Yes,” he said eventually.

When Levi ran Eren was right beside him as they sprinted across the rain-slicked bitumen. The gap turned out to be little more than an alcove, and they huddled in it before running for a side-street. Levi took the lead now, trying to put as much distance between them and the cannery as possible, leading Eren over an obstacle course of alleyways and garbage bins and sharp turns that he hoped would throw off the pursuers on motorcycles.

The Titans had started to spread out to look for them, whooping and hollering and gunning their engines. They sounded like they were having fun. Levi was not.

He knew his arms and torso were going to hurt like hell tomorrow and at this rate his legs would as well. They were getting further and further away from their vehicles too. At least Eren was being obedient for now; he was under no illusions that it would last, but he thought the truce would probably hold as long as their lives were in danger.

Eren was faster than he was, younger and taller, and Levi knew this from past experience in chasing him down alleyways like this one. But he didn’t leave him behind, modifying his speed so that Levi could keep up with him. He didn’t crash through any fences either. They clawed their way over a chain link fence and ran across a deserted basketball court, of all things. The rain hadn’t slackened, and Levi’s suit clung damply and heavily to him.

He and Eren thought as one, their instincts steering them in the same directions and Levi barely needed to check that he was still there. Once, we would have torn up this city together, Levi thought.

But Levi wouldn’t have lived long enough to meet Eren if he’d continued doing those sorts of things, and even if he had he would have been one of the people Eren now targeted so recklessly. He wondered who would have won that particular fight in the end.

He couldn’t keep running. He could hear the searchers ahead of them sometimes, and they had to duck into whatever cover they could find when one of them came too close. They simply couldn't outpace them on foot, and hiding anywhere would be a risky and uncomfortable business.

Eren looked like he could have kept running forever. Levi grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt, gasping for breath.

“This isn’t gonna work.” He wiped the rain off his face with his sleeve. His bandage was soaked, and starting to peel away from his chin. “Follow me.”

Eren didn’t question him when Levi started ducking around behind businesses and into parking lots and loading bays, despite the fact that they’d be bottled up if they were caught in one. He simply followed, like a loyal and increasingly damp dog.

Levi found what he was looking for outside a warehouse from which no lights visible, but as they approached Levi could feel bass coming from somewhere nearby.

He cast about for something suitably heavy and settled on a brick he managed to prise loose from a wall. Eren hovered nervously, not quite game to ask him what he was doing and not quite game to take off by himself either. Levi hefted the brick, and slung it through the driver’s window of the rusting Dodge that was parked near the warehouse.

“Get in!” Levi ordered, unlocking the door and yanking it open.

“What?” Eren blinked stupidly at him, and Levi didn’t have time for his bullshit and he grabbed him and practically slung him across the seat, putting his hand on Eren’s head to make sure he didn’t hit it on the roof while he manhandled him inside.

Eren got the idea and scrambled across to the passenger seat, Levi shoving at his arse to encourage him to be swift.

“Hey!” Eren ended up in a sort of tangle of limbs on the passenger seat but Levi wasn’t looking at him. He tossed the brick aside and got in. Eren stared at him while Levi fiddled with the ignition wires. He’d chosen this car because it was old, and the older ones were easier; nowadays the anti-theft devices were a pain the arse, and he'd been looking for something he could get into without tools.

“You’re stealing a car,” Eren said in a shocked tone that Levi couldn't help but find amusing.

“No this is mine; I always forget my keys,” Levi said, concentrating.

“That’s illegal!” Eren protested. “You’re a cop.”

“It’s self-defence,” Levi said as the car roared to life. “Would you rather walk?” He didn’t know if the owner could hear anything over the sound the music but he didn’t wait around to find out. Eren was still staring at him like he’d grown an extra head when he put his foot down.

He instantly regretted it as he found himself wrestling for control as the Dodge leapt forward and promptly started to skid.

“Fuck!” Eren braced himself against the door and grabbed for the seatbelt with his free hand.

“These tyres must be completely bald,” Levi said through his teeth as he managed to keep them going in straight line. The car itself didn’t sound too good; the engine had a knock to it, and the brake was unnervingly soft under Levi’s foot. “What a pile of shit. This thing shouldn’t be on the road.”

Eren gave a breathless, surprised little laugh. “Are you going to give them a ticket?”

“Only if this thing craps out on us before we make it to a real car.” At least the windscreen wipers worked. Levi drove around the block rather than risking reverse, and started heading back to his car. He wasn’t game to go at speed, and that plus the obvious decrepitude of the vehicle served to camouflage them. They saw the bikers a couple of times, but none of them seemed to pay any attention to the old car heading back towards the cannery.

Levi didn’t push his luck, however, making a detour around the building before heading back to where he’d left his Ford.

Eren kept sneaking glances at him and opening his mouth but in the end he said nothing until Levi pulled into the parking lot where his own car was still parked, apparently unmolested. The old Dodge gave one final rattle before Levi killed the engine.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the rain pattering on the roof and trickling down the inside of the driver’s side door through the broken window. Levi didn’t care. He didn’t think he could get any damper than he already was unless he took a dip in the harbour.

“Do you think we got away?” Eren asked. Levi could still hear the faint buzzing of motorcycles over the sound of the rain.

“Yeah,” Levi said. “It doesn't sound like they're too close. If I was them I’d decide you weren’t here; they might dig in at the cannery though. It’s not yet ten.” He didn’t think he’d had a chance to catch his breath since he’d stepped into the ring with Reiner what felt like hours ago. All he felt now was relief; no one was dead, or even badly injured, and it felt like a minor miracle.

“How did you know where I was?” Eren asked.

“I’m a detective,” Levi replied. “I merely asked someone the right questions in the right way.”

Eren glanced at him, glanced away, and then looked closer again. “Have you been in a fight? Since last night, I mean.”

“I have. I told you earlier, remember? I won.”

“Is that how you found out where I was?”

“Mm.”

“I should have known you’d be totally hardcore,” Eren said. “Even when I first heard of you, you were stepping out of line.”

“Hardcore? You make it sound like I’m in a band.” Levi knew they had more important things to discuss, but he couldn’t resist the urge to take a few moments to recover, beforehe and Eren got into another sparring match.

Eren laughed, “You sounded really old just then.”

“I am really old. Older than you can imagine.” He let his head thunk back against the headrest. And then he wrinkled his nose. “This car smells fucking disgusting.”

“It kind of does,” Eren said.

They turned at the same time and peered at the back seat. The smell was definitely stronger back there, and it wasn't clear exactly which bits of rubbish, empty food containers, not-so-empty food containers and suspicious plastic bags the smell was coming from.

Levi was horrified.

“Fuck this.” He shoved the door open and stumbled out into the rain again. It was preferable to remaining inside that car. He needed a shower, but he'd settle for rain for now.

Eren got out of the car as well, looking more amused than anything else.

“You really move fast when you want to,” he said.

Levi ran his fingers through his hair, unsticking strands of it from his face and glanced at Eren, who splashed around the car to him.

“So do you,” Levi said, and realised they were talking about something else entirely. Once Levi had made up his mind to retrieve Eren he hadn't spared a thought to anything else, but now they were both mostly safe and Levi's mind helpfully replayed those few seconds Eren's mouth had been pressed against his own, and as always the memory carried an electric jolt somewhere between his heart and his guts.

Eren shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. “Yeah.” God, he was beautiful. Rain-slicked and scuffed from his earlier exertions he was like the very concept of wild youth given physical form, and Levi was not one to wax poetic over someone but Eren was the exception to so many things. “I'm not going to do it again,” Eren added.

Levi didn't answer. He didn't know if he didn't believe Eren or simply didn't want to.

“Did you hear what I said?” Eren looked at him sharply, and once Levi had met his eyes he found it hard to look away. He managed to look angrily vulnerable but Levi knew it was an illusion. Eren had his weaknesses, and maybe Levi himself was one of them in a sense, but not like this. Like this, Eren was at his strongest, and Levi was the one who was weak to him.

Nevertheless, the way Eren looked at him did things. They stared at each other like a pair of cats deciding whether or not to do battle.

Eren was clearly waiting for a response, trying to goad him, but Levi got the impression he was genuine in his distress, too.

Of course he'd heard, and he wasn't happy about it. There wasn't anything about Eren's kiss that Levi hadn't liked; it was the aftermath that was the problem. Eren stared at him, his expression intense but unreadable, just waiting for Levi to do something, anything, that he could react to. The things I have done for you today, Levi thought, the rules I have bent if not outright broken to make sure that you are still standing there, unbroken and defiant and alive. The pain in his jaw and his hands, the water trickling down the back of his neck and collecting in his shoes, it was all for him and sudden surge of possessiveness had Levi stepping forward.

Eren's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't move other than to part his lips slightly as Levi reached up and cupped his jaw with his hand.

“I heard you,” Levi said. “And I think you're full of shit.”

He pulled Eren's mouth down to his. His lips were cold but they parted easily, and his breath was warm. If Eren was surprised he recovered fast, or acted on instinct, because the next thing Levi knew the younger man's arms were around his shoulders and his tongue was slipping past his teeth. The warmth of Eren's body reminded him how cold they were, and they stepped in closer, seeking body heat through the layers of wet clothing. Levi curled his other hand around the back of Eren's neck, squeezing water out of his sodden hair with aching fingers.

He didn't taste of anything, just rain. Levi kissed him hard, abusing his lower lip, risking teeth, and Eren responded with all the eagerness he'd come to expect from him. It was like they were trying to climb inside each other. Eren's hands were digging into his sopping jacket, pawing at him, his breathing sharp and fast through his nose.

It was the most incredible painkiller Levi had ever experienced. His injuries and exhaustion still tugged at him, but he didn't care. The fact that they were nowhere near safe, even if there was no immediate danger only served to make him hungrier; he'd been a risk-taker once, still was to a point, but nothing like this, not for a long time.

He started thinking about the back seat of his Ford; it was right there, and probably cleaner than Eren's room. Eren tilted his head and gasped as Levi bruised his way down his throat, feeling his pulse beneath his lips.

“Ah!” Eren shuddered and drew breath. “You know, I'm impressed.” Levi realised then that there was a catch in his voice. Something was off. He opened his eyes. “The lengths a modern policeman will go to get a DNA sample.”

He didn't, did he? Oh, he had.

Levi had to restrain himself for a different reason then, because for that moment he wanted nothing more than to put his fist in Eren's stomach. His foot on his face. He hated that fucking brat. He'd more than made a fool of him, and something twisted unhappily in Levi's gut. Somehow he managed to step away calmly, disentangle them without anyone losing any blood.

Eren was baring his teeth in a twisted sort of angry smile.

“What the fuck?” Levi growled.

“This isn't fair. Why are you here?” Eren asked. “You turn up and fuck everything up! What happens now, huh? Do we go home and fuck and then you take me to jail the next day? You didn't have to do any of this.” He was getting louder as he worked himself up and Levi could hear his voice threatening to crack as he scrubbed is hands through his hair.

The more heated he got, the icier Levi became. He folded his arms and set his mouth in a grim line while Eren ranted.

“And I just let you push me around. Because,” he didn't finish that thought. “And now, fuck, the Titans are going to think I'm a coward.”

Levi didn't dignify that with a response.

“God, you fuck me up so much.” Eren paced, swinging his arms. “This isn't how it's supposed to go.”

He really was young, wasn't he? Levi knew it was part of his appeal, but at the same time he really wanted to cuff him across the ear and tell him to grow up and stop playing games. That probably would have made things worse. Instead, Levi ignored him and unlocked his car.

“Get in,” he ordered. Eren glared at him for a few moments, but in the end he did as he was told. Levi winced as they dripped all over the front seats, but there was nothing he could do about it. He'd clean his car later.

“What about my bike?” Eren asked.

“That's your problem. You can worry about it tomorrow.”

Everything was wearing off; adrenaline, fear, lust, victory. They got you high and left you empty afterwards. Levi started the engine and drove, while Eren dripped sullenly in the passenger seat, glaring out the window with his arms folded.

Levi took out his phone and called Mikasa.

“It's me,” he said when she picked up. “What's your address? Yeah, I know the area. Thank you.” He hung up.

Eren looked at him curiously. “Who was that?”

Levi didn't answer. He took out a cigarette and wound the window down a little way before lighting it.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Eren said.

“I know.” Levi stared out at the lights reflecting off the rain-soaked road ahead.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“What makes you think I was there to help you?”

“You helped me get away. You stole that car to help me.”

“I was helping myself. I wasn’t there to help you, I was there to stop you and I did.”

“Why? Those guys out there; they shot up the city. There are innocent people in hospital-”

“They were aiming at you!” Levi said through his teeth, looking at Eren for the first time before turning back to the road. “This is your fault. And don’t give me coy bullshit; I still can’t arrest you, and even if I could tonight’s been a little too unorthodox to put in a police report. So if you aren’t straight with me that unorthodoxy will continue and you will not find it pleasant.”

“Is that a threat?” Eren’s eyes were wide.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? You know what they say; never meet your heroes. I’d add never push them too hard either. You might not like what you find when they reach the end of their patience.” Levi snapped the words out like he was breaking them off a block of ice.

“I still like you,” Eren mumbled, water dripping of the ends of his hair. His leather jacket probably kept him drier than Levi was, but he managed to look far more bedraggled anyway.

Levi refused to acknowledge how that admission made him feel, settling for sarcasm instead. “I’m overjoyed.”

“You should be, I’m gorgeous,” Eren shot back.

He was.

“Eren, just don't,” Levi said. He'd let him get to him and now he was paying the price. “I'm not in the mood for more jokes.”

Eren was silent for a while, and Levi was glad.

“All those guys out there, why don’t you arrest them? They’re the ones who shot up the city, not me.”

“For what?” Levi asked. “Trespassing? Reckless use of a motor vehicle? There’s a little thing called burden of proof, and another one called the presumption of innocence and right now they’re all that’s stood between you and life without parole so why don’t you be fucking grateful for once and promise not to do this again?” He couldn't keep his anger back forever, and he heard it bleed into his own voice.

Eren frowned and shrugged himself deeper into his jacket.

“Eren!”

“All right! Fine. I won't do this again. It turned out to be a shit idea anyway. They'd just have escaped in the end.”

“Thank you, and I expect you to keep your word.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, they’re just kids.”

“What? Those guys out there?” Eren asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” Levi said softly. “You don’t know it was the same people who were in the city the other night. If anything, they’re gonna throw cannon fodder at you. People with nothing to lose who either don’t know better or don’t have any better options.”

Eren looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned sharply down.

“Where'd you learn to steal cars?” he asked quietly.

“Oh, so you were paying attention,” Levi said. “Give me one reason why I should spare you another word.”

Eren hung his head. “That was shitty of me earlier. I'm sorry, Levi.”

“You will be.”

Eren looked out the window again. “Where are we going? This isn't the way to my place. Or yours.”

Levi didn't answer. He drove.

“This is Mikasa's house,” Eren said, as Levi pulled up outside a ramshackle house on the unfashionable side of the university suburb. “What are you doing?”

Levi lent on the horn for a couple of moments and the front door opened.

“Out you get,” he said. “I'm done with you.”

Eren stared at him. “Mikasa put you up to this? How? Why?”

Mikasa herself was coming down the front steps, an umbrella held over her head. In the doorway stood a young man with blonde hair.

Eren narrowed his eyes. “I bet this is Armin's doing.”

“Are you getting out or am I throwing you out?” Levi asked tiredly.

Eren left without another word. Levi nodded at Mikasa and drove off.

Chapter Text

Levi parked his car in the garage under his apartment building and just sat there for a while. He didn’t know if he was still angry at Eren or not; he was too tired and in too much pain to sort through his feelings with any coherency. Instead he waited until he had the energy to move and squelched over to the elevator.

It felt good to get out of his clothes, and even better to get into the shower. He peeled the bandage off his chin, and examined the damage Reiner had done. He had bruises welling on his arms and chest and a bump on his head, but it wasn't anything likely to kill him.

Levi knew how to take care of himself. No one else had ever done it for him; he’d spent a childhood in and out of foster homes, and an adolescence on the street. Even if he could barely lift his head he scrubbed himself down, cleaned his wound, and swallowed painkillers with some tea and toast. He hadn’t the energy for anything better.

He was too tired to dream.

He woke up to a phone full of messages left by Eren and feeling like he'd been kicked down several flights of stairs. These things both served to kill off any enthusiasm he had for doing anything today and he called in sick to work. Hange knew that he never took time off if he could help it, and their voice on the other end of the line was rich with concern.

“What happened, boss?”

“I overdid it at the gym,” he said, lying back against his pillow and watching the pattern of light the blinds made on his ceiling. At least his extended sojourn in the rain hadn’t lead to a cold.

“You went to the gym when you were injured?” Hange sighed. “You know, this might be for the best. You really looked like you could use a break. Make the most of it, okay? Do you need me to bring you anything after work?”

“I’m not at death’s door,” Levi said. “Actually, there is something. Can you check the duty roster and see if an Officer Reiner is in today?”

“Sure boss, give me a second. Um, nope they’re off sick.”

Levi allowed himself some measure of satisfaction. However much he hurt, he was sure Reiner was hurting more.

“Thanks Hange. I’ll see you later.”

“Get lots of rest.”

Levi didn’t think he had much choice. He ached. He was aware that the front seats of his car would still be damp and needed cleaning, but like his taxes he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about them right now.

That only left all Eren's messages to deal with.

Thinking about Eren was like probing a loose tooth; it didn't make anything better but he couldn't help himself. Nothing good could possibly come of this, and he knew that, but he didn't know how to get himself out; he had almost no experience obsessing over someone he shouldn't have.

Levi sighed and dragged himself upright to make breakfast. He didn’t think he could face actually talking to Eren first thing in the morning.

Once he’d had an omelette and coffee and the first smoke of the day, Levi sprawled on his couch and checked his phone to see what Eren had to say for himself. Mostly he was apologetic; Levi hadn’t really been on the receiving end of these sorts of texts before, and he found it a little strange to say the least. And a relief; Eren had hit him where it hurt, and he still felt his stomach dip when he remembered how their making out had ended.

It had been his own stupid fault really, kissing him like that. He’d known better and done it anyway and he deserved what he got. But he was glad Eren was sorry.

An hour or so after the first batch of texts had been sent, the tone changed abruptly.

Mikasa says u know. y didn’t u say anything?

ur not going to arrest us right?

u knew but u still kissed me

i wish u were awake

pls call me when u wake up

Levi we need to talk.

He was right; they did need to talk, and Levi supposed it would be best to get it over with.

Eren picked up almost immediately, and then didn't say anything. Levi listened to him breath for a few moments.

“Hello?”

“Hello. I uh, wasn't sure you'd actually call me.”

“I took the day off work,” Levi said, as if that explained anything.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I'll live. What are you doing?”

“I'm still at Mikasa's place, I was just about to leave and go fetch my bike. By the time Mikasa stopped ranting at me it was too late to go home so I stayed here. Their couch smells funny though.”

“I bet yours does too.”

Eren made a small sound of amusement, but he seemed very subdued.

“Levi-”

“Eren-”

They spoke and fell silent at the same time.

“Are you still mad?” Eren asked, and that reminded Levi why he should be and he felt anger spike through him anew.

Levi sighed.

“I'm really sorry about what I said last night,” Eren spoke quickly, getting the words out in a rush that left Levi no room to interrupt. “It was stupid of me and unfair and I was just angry that you'd showed up and angry that I'd just gone along with you and angry cause you got into a fight for me and when I kissed you, you shoved me away and it hurt and then you kissed me and I just wanted to get back at you for everything.”

“I see.”

“But I wish I hadn't and I'm sorry and I actually wondered if I'd ever hear from you again. I don't really deserve anything better.”

“Are you done?” Levi asked. He didn't really like attending pity-parties and if Eren felt bad then so he should. Levi hadn't exactly been on his best behaviour around the young man either, but he wasn't going to make a big deal out of it.

“Yeah. So, we're good now?”

Levi had no idea what that might mean but it was as good an opportunity as any to change the subject.

“Mikasa came to me,” Levi said. “She was worried about you, and she asked for my help. I promised I'd look for you if she told me what she knew, and she did.”

“Are we in trouble?” Eren asked.

“For what happened back then? I don't think so. What's happened since is a different story. Eren, I want to hear what happened from you.”

“Mikasa was there, she saw it. I don't want to talk about it, not to you or anyone.”

“What kind of nine-year-old kills two men in cold blood?” Levi asked. Silence. “Eren? Hello?”

“Yeah, I'm here.” Levi could hear the utter misery in his voice. “I don't know.”

Conducting an interview over the phone was not ideal, but Levi pressed on. “Did Grisha make you do it?”

He could hear Eren take a deep, shaky breath. “Not exactly. We were in the car and he told me that there was girl who'd been taken from her parents, and I just went to rescue her. It seemed, I dunno, something I should do.”

“Did Grisha do that sort of thing a lot? How did he know she'd be there?”

“No, and I don't know. I didn't ask. He didn't do it again.”

“Do you have any idea where he is now?”

“No, and I wish I did.” He sounded sincere.

“You said you weren't close. When I asked you before you didn't seem too worried.”

“It's not like I miss him, but I want to ask him some things.”

“Don't we all?” Levi replied.

“I can't quite believe he's dead; he always seemed confident despite the dangerous people he worked with. Do you think?” Eren said hesitantly. “Could you try and find him? I haven't been having much luck on my own. You're pretty good at your job, Levi.”

“No better than average, but I'll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“In return,” Levi said firmly. “You're going to behave, you understand? I've got more bruises than I can count, a bent cop I've just made a lifetime enemy out of, a media profile I didn't have two days ago and I really don't need anything more on my plate.”

Silence.

“Are you going to be okay?” Eren asked.

“Yeah, I'll be fine.”

“The guy you fought, he won't look for a rematch, will he?”

“He might, but probably not for a week at least. I've got his number anyway; I'm better than him and always will be.”

“What if he's got friends?”

“Eren! Promise me.” In truth, Levi was somewhat concerned, but he didn't think the Titans would try anything just yet; they still didn't know who Eren was, and attacking Levi would have Bossard baying for their blood, which might actually move the Commissioner to do something about it. None of this was Eren's business, however.

“I promise,” Eren said. “I won't go after anyone until you're feeling better and have had a look for Dad.”

“That's the best I'm going to get, isn't it?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. But it's a promise.”

“Fine. Be careful when you get your bike.”

“Yeah, yeah. Look after your bruises. And um, yeah. Okay. See you.” Eren hung up.

Levi spent the rest of the morning watching TV on his couch and regretting the fact that he wasn’t as young as he once was. Ten years ago he wouldn’t have let something like this slow him down for a whole day. And he couldn't even claim that age had brought him any wisdom.

His phone rang around noon. Mike. From a pay-phone by the sound of it.

“I'm not in today,” Levi said. It was rare that Mike called him, but not unheard of. “I can't meet you.”

“Good,” Mike said. “A vacation might just be what you need, and I don't really feel like being seen in public with you anyway, no offence.”

“What do you mean?”

“My nose tells me you've got trouble coming. You might want to leave town for a while.”

“How much is this priceless information worth?” Levi asked.

“It's free, man, take it or leave it. You've done me the favour of never bullshitting me so I'm doing you a favour.”

“So there's nothing concrete you can tell me.”

Mike sighed, “No.”

“Okay, thanks Mike.”

Levi hung up. It wasn't that he didn't disbelieve Mike, but there was simply nothing he could do about it. Even if he took leave of his senses and decided to go to the beach for a week, Pixis would never let him take the time off while the investigation was ongoing. Levi thought about all the detective stories he'd read where the lead is ordered 'off the case!' by their boss and wondered why it was always presented as a bad thing.

But he wouldn't leave, even if he could. Eren was still a loose cannon, even if he'd managed to temporarily slow him down, and this Titan business was taking on a momentum of its own. The best he could do was be careful.

When he went down to clean his car that afternoon, he took his gun with him. He felt slightly foolish, but it was preferable to being dead.

No one tried to kill him.

The next day he was still bruised but less sore, and one day off was more than enough to bore him witless so he got ready to go to work. He decided he could live without the bandage on his face, and it was a relief to leave it off.

He hadn't slept well.

He glanced at his own shadowed eyes and haggard face in the mirror as he shaved and wondered why Eren was so keen on kissing him. There was no accounting for taste, he thought wryly.

He was late, which was rare for him, but he'd woken up feeling old and slow and couldn't bring himself to care too much. It wasn't like Hange ever arrived on time, and he was sure he'd beat them in anyway.

Levi pulled out of his garage and was halfway down the street when the Range Rover slammed into the side of his car. He'd had about two seconds warning, a sense of impending danger and a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and he'd flung the car into an evasive manoeuvre out of sheer instinct. Rather than catching his Ford directly the other car clipped the back end, and Levi winced as he felt the back tyres skid sideways on the road.

He stomped on the accelerator, determined to get the hell out when a second car surged out of a driveway in front of him, and Levi caught a glimpse of someone in the passenger seat lining up a shot and he ducked, hunching down behind the wheel.

He heard three shots but only two hit the windscreen. Levi didn't take his foot off the gas, trying to steer by feel. When he risked lifting his head he saw the second vehicle on a collision course. He swerved into the opposite lane; luckily his lateness had meant most of his neighbours had left already, and the street was almost clear, and ducked again as he passed the car as more bullets flew over his head. He was reaching for the radio when something slammed into the back of his car, the seat belt catching on his bruises as he was flung against the wheel.

He snarled in angry pain and his tyres squealed as the superior power of the other car overwhelmed his. He wrenched the wheel sideways, hoping the right lane was clear. He hit a stationary car, and ground to a halt himself as his car's front end got tangled in the little hatchback that had halted his escape attempt. He threw the car into reverse; if he couldn't get away, he'd be equally safe if he made it back to his garage. His apartment building was relatively new and had security features, including a reinforced steel garage door that he was confident would hold off an assault long enough for help to arrive.

But there were two cars between him and home. His Ford wasn't responding as well as he'd have liked; he'd left a few pieces of his bumper behind in the hatchback and crumple zones had crumpled as intended.

And they were still fucking shooting at him. His windscreen was a crazed mess, and one of his side windows had gone completely. He hadn't had a chance to even draw his gun, let alone shoot back; it was probably less than a minute since his day had started going wrong.

He had a chance of getting away now that both cars were on one side, but he had to turn. He fought with the car, and wondered if a lucky shot had hit a transmission line; it wasn't responding well to his rough treatment.

He was nearly home and clear, or at least in a position to put his foot down and make a run for it, when the other cars caught up. He heard the roar of engines and then his head cracked painfully on the window next to him as they ploughed right into the side of his Ford. Levi's stomach lurched as the car rolled. Levi shielded his face with his arms as the world tilted sideways and then upside down, giving thanks that his car was mostly free of loose objects as it skidded along on its roof. He could smell fuel and hot rubber, and the blood rushed to his head.

He didn't think the Ford would ever be roadworthy again. The seatbelt held him to his chair and he fumbled to release himself, peering out through the broken windows, panicked. He'd received a few cuts and new bruises but he thought he was in one piece.

He found the catch and fell to the ceiling. He disentangled himself and took out his gun before crawling out to the opposite window, trying to stay in cover.

The Range Rovers had stopped, and he could hear doors opening. It wasn't enough to run him off the road then; they were here to make sure he'd stopped breathing.

He squeezed out the broken window on the passenger side, a jagged piece of metal catching on his leg; he could hear cloth tearing as pain lanced up his calf. He squirmed free and knelt next to the car.

He peered up past the wheel and ducked his head just as fast as a gun went off. He drew his own weapon and returned the favour, less with the idea of hitting anyone and more with the idea of making them a bit more cautious and buying him enough time to call for help. He took out his phone, although he knew he was unlikely to be still alive by the time anyone came; there was nowhere left to hide, and running was just asking for a bullet in the back.

He heard a motorcycle. More trouble?

He'd have preferred it if it was, but he recognised the slight figure on the Honda and his heart sank. Where the fuck had he sprung from? He didn't stop. Levi flung himself flat on the ground to watch as the bike swerved between the two Range Rovers and charged at the group of armed men. They jumped aside, too startled to do anything else, and Eren rode right through them and skidded to a halt beside Levi's car.

A couple of shots whistled past and Eren tipped his bike on its side and crouched down next to Levi.

“Levi! Are you okay?” he tore his helmet off.

Levi glared at him and fired another shot through the car. With the luxury of aiming, he managed to hit a leg, and he heard a shout of pain. Retaliation was swift and noisy and Eren put his hands over his ears as the guns went off. The upturned Ford wasn't perfect as a barricade, and Levi scrambled back onto his knees to make himself a smaller target.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed.

“You didn't show up to work,” Eren replied, pulling off his gloves and shoving them into the pockets of his jacket.

“All right, fine, whatever.” They didn't have time to chat.

“You're pleased to see me,” Eren said with a funny smile.

“Yeah. Maybe I'll get out of here alive. The garage under my apartment is secure. We can ride the bike back.”

“Here,” Eren handed him his helmet. “You go, I'll hold them off.”

“Don't be ridiculous; they've all got guns.”

“If we make a run for it on the bike they'll shoot us both before we get there.”

He had a point, but Levi wasn't going to leave it at that. “Look, let me ride. There are such things as evasive manoeuvres-”

Eren clasped Levi's left hand, the one still holding his phone, in both of his and gazed into his eyes. “Trust me,” he said. “Please. This will be the last time, I swear. But I can save you, I promise.”

“Eren, the martyr look doesn't suit you.”

Eren shook his head, “I won't die, I promise. I promise. You already know I won't die.”

They had no more time to decide.

“What do I do?” Levi asked.

“Wait for me to go out there and make a distraction,” Eren said. “Then grab the bike and go; you said you knew how to ride one, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Keys are in it.” He bit his lip. “Okay. I'm so sorry, Levi. This is all my fault.”

“Yeah. The entrance to the apartment building is there. I'll wait and let you in.” Eren hadn't let go of his hand the entire time. His fingers were warm, probably because he'd been wearing gloves. “Because we will talk after this. Don't kill anyone, Eren.”

Eren nodded. “Okay. Okay, I'm going now.”

He released Levi's hand and then he raised his right hand to his mouth. Levi watched in horrified fascination as he sank his teeth into the fleshy part of his thumb. He didn't half-arse it either, he chewed and Levi saw blood stain his teeth.

When he pulled his torn hand away from his bloodied lips, he didn't look any different, but he felt different. There was something in his eyes, a strange glazed look, and he regarded Levi like he didn't recognise him.

Eren got to his feet in one smooth motion, immediately making himself a target, but none of the bullets found their mark as he stepped forward.

And ripped the door off Levi's car.

“Eren,” Levi breathed.

But Eren wasn't listening to him. He opened his mouth and let out a scream that Levi would never have identified as human if he hadn't known where it was coming from. It make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Eren moved like the wind. He vaulted over Levi's upturned Ford and ran at the Titans, brandishing the door like it weighed nothing at all. The guns went off again but he didn't take more than two steps in a straight line, darting from one side to the next at an unnatural speed.

Levi forced himself to look away and concentrate on his own survival. He jammed the helmet on his head and scrambled for Eren's bike. He wasn't going to get any more distracting and it was time to go. His muscles protested as he hauled the bike upright, still trying to present a small target. As Eren had promised, the key was in the ignition and he twisted it and shot off as the bike roared to life.

He made it a respectable distance, but he'd ridden his luck far too hard today.

He felt something hit his side, an impact on the side of his ribs that had him twisting in sudden pain and he was struck by the horrible realisation that he'd been shot. In a movie a minor bullet wound is a minor inconvenience, but Levi's brain seemed to stutter to a terrified halt as he wondered if he was about to die and riding Eren's bike seemed like a distant second concern.

He lost control.

He thought he was taking an evasive manoeuvre- far too late, and then the front wheel seemed to twist the wrong way and the ground surged up and smacked him.

Two accidents in five minutes was some sort of record, he thought, as he felt pain lance up his wrist as he tried to break his fall. He hadn't had a chance to build up a lot of speed, but he left a fair bit of skin smeared over the bitumen as he and the bike skidded as one, sideways. He was very glad he'd decided to wear the helmet. He slithered out from under the bike and lay flat behind it, trying to calm his calm his racing heart and not think about punctured lungs and shattered ribs.

He'd been shot. He'd never been shot before. It didn't hurt as much as he'd expected. He'd seen enough bullet wounds in his time to attempt to convince himself that it probably wasn't going to be fatal, but his brain was like a panicked animal running in desperate circles.

He heard the Range Rovers' engines surge and he lifted his head in time to see the Titans retreating down the street.

Eren had discarded the door at some point and he must have been keeping his word because Levi couldn't see any bodies. He'd beaten them back, still screaming like a banshee, and stood in the middle of the street, watching them go.

Levi pawed the helmet off his head and put his hand on the wound in his side. His fingers told him nothing. He lay on the ground and the thought occurred to him that he was filthy. He was covered in oil and dirt and blood and who knew what else and he really needed a shower. It was far more reassuring to think of himself as dirty rather than dying and he clung to the idea.

Eren was loping over towards him, twitchy, alert, but blank faced except when he opened his mouth to scream. Instinct had Levi forcing himself to his feet, swaying and light-headed, and drew his gun.

For all the good it would do.

He pointed it at Eren's head and Eren skidded to a halt about ten feet away from him.

“Eren, can you hear me?” He didn't look injured, but it was hard to tell if any of the blood on him was his or not. Levi stared at the monster wearing Eren's skin, uncomprehending, in pain, and frankly afraid of the power he'd just witnessed.

Eren screamed at him. At this range it hurt Levi's ears and he bared his teeth and winced.

Eren stepped forward, his reptilian gaze not leaving Levi. Levi tracked him with the gun, finger hovering on the trigger. At this range he couldn't miss.

He didn't miss.

He decided not to pull the trigger. Eren stepped around his outstretched arm and wrapped his arms around Levi, taking his weight as his knees buckled.

Chapter Text

Eren caught him and he smelled like blood and where his hands touched him, Levi could feel heat pouring off him even through his clothes. He didn't look feverish; he didn't seem to have even broken a sweat, even if there was something unnatural in his expression. At least he’d stopped screaming. It would have been easy to let Eren take his weight, do whatever he wanted. Levi was alive, and it looked like he’d stay that way, at least for the next little while.

But he couldn’t rest, not yet. He had to take responsibility, because Eren clearly couldn’t handle it in this state. And it was too hot in his arms; like being embraced by a hot stove. He fought his way free of Eren’s embrace, rather weakly, but Eren let him go as soon as he was sure he could stand by himself.

“Get your bike,” he said, every word an effort. The entire side of his back felt like it was seizing up, stiff and hot with pain. “Hide it. Around the corner, anywhere.” Levi wasn’t sure if he could hear sirens or was just imagining them over the ringing in his ears.

At least Eren did as he was bid, with the dumb obedience of a beast. Levi didn’t want to look at him. He put his gun away and trudged back to his apartment building, calling Hange as he did so.

“Boss, sorry I’m late. The traffic was-”

“I don’t care,” Levi said through his teeth. “You know where I live? Go there. Uniform’s on its way, I suspect, but I’d rather have you in charge.”

Hange must have heard in his voice how serious things were, because they didn’t argue or ask further questions.

“Understood, see you soon.”

Levi put his back to the wall while he waited for Eren, leaving a smear of red on the stucco when he moved to let them both in. Eren held the door for him, and they took the elevator up to Levi’s apartment, Eren's hand hovering at Levi's elbow ready to catch him should he fall.

Levi couldn’t quite tell if Eren was back to normal or not. Eren didn’t say a word, instead hanging his head so his hair fell over his eyes as he followed close on Levi’s heels. Levi noticed his hand had healed perfectly. What he wouldn’t give for a dose of that right now.

Levi led Eren through his apartment to the laundry, the most out-of-the-way room he had.

“Stay here,” he said. “Don’t say or do anything unless I tell you to.”

Eren stood where he was directed and said nothing.

Levi needed a cigarette, and he retreated to his tiny balcony to smoke it, noting that his hands only shook a little when he took the packet out of his pocket. It wasn’t anything like first aid, but it would do for now.

He rested his forearms on the railing and smoked, and tried to calm his racing heart. He needed to think, but his brain was just white noise. He was still there when Hange knocked on his door, and he hadn't managed to make sense of anything. He groaned and stubbed out his cigarette before he went to let them in. He hadn’t heard a peep out of Eren the entire time, not so much as a shuffling of feet.

Good.

Hange looked horrified when they saw him, and Levi supposed he probably looked fairly horrifying.

“Jesus Christ, boss. Do you need an ambulance? You look like you’ve been through the spin-cycle with with a shark. What happened? I saw your car, or what's left of it. Uniform are roping off the street. How did the door end up halfway down the street anyway?”

Hange's words reminded Levi of the fate of his car, and he felt suddenly sorrowful; it had served him well, and deserved a better end than that. It wasn't like him to get sentimental over objects and he didn't know how much longer he could keep up this facade of mostly-normal functioning. He was upset, fuck it all.

Hange needed answering first.

“I misjudged the Titans. It seems I pissed them off more than I thought. They ran me off the road, shot at me, and if someone hadn’t heard all the fuss and dialled 911 I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Okay, now answer my other question; do you need an ambulance?”

“No, I’m fine. Just scratches.”

“You’re bleeding on your floor,” Hange pointed out.

Levi cursed, but there wasn’t much he could do about it; blood had soaked through his trousers from the cut in his leg and trickled down over his shoe.

“Maybe I’ll take another day off,” he said. He didn't feel up to bending down with a handkerchief and cleaning it up. He got the feeling that if he tried he'd probably faint.

“Boss, if you’re worried about security, I can get get you a guard. After what happened out there I think we can find it in the budget-”

“No. Hange,” he looked into their eyes. “Remember I asked after an Officer Reiner? He’s not exactly a credit to the force. I shook him down for information yesterday, and this is payback. A police guard wouldn’t make me safe. I’m safe here.”

“Levi, whatever it is you’re up to, it’s going to get you killed at this rate.”

“I know,” he sagged. “But it’s not like I can just back out now. Just go out there and see if you can find who did it. I didn’t get their numbers, but I’ll give you a description. There should be plenty for ballistics to chew on; maybe you’ll get something.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, “And just what will you be doing?”

“Recovering. I’m in shock. Bruised and battered.”

Hange looked at him for one long moment.

“Okay, it’s your call. I’ll run interference as much as I can. If there’s anything you need, I’m a phone call away.”

“I appreciate it, Hange. I do. You’re irritating as fuck and your desk should be classified as a public health hazard, but other than that, I could have done worse.”

Hange frowned. “Don’t get sappy on me. And do something about that bleeding, it’s starting to bother me.”

It was starting to bother Levi as well. As soon as Hange had left, he raised his voice.

“Eren! I need your help.” He braced himself on the wall and waited.

Eren came running, and when Levi looked at him there was no doubt he was back to his old self. His eyes were full of worry and Levi was relieved; he'd missed him.

“Fix me up,” Levi said.

“You need a doctor,” Eren objected.

“You’re a nurse, aren’t you?”

“I’m a second-year nursing student.” He shook his head, but nevertheless he held out his hand and Levi let him guide him into the bathroom.

“There’s a cut on my leg and I’ve been shot in the back,” he began.

“Levi! You were shot and you were just wandering around? Oh God, now I know how Mikasa feels when she yells at me for riding my bike too fast.” He scrubbed his hand in his hair in frustration.“Well, let me have a look at it first. It can’t be too bad if you’re still conscious.”

“First aid kit above the sink,” Levi said, taking off his coat.

“That's something at least, I thought I was going to have to make do with a sewing kit,” Eren muttered. He still looked pale and upset, but determined as well.

In the end Eren had to help him take most of his clothes off, and it wasn’t sexy at all. At least Levi told himself that, as Eren undid his buttons and eased off cloth stuck to him with his own blood. It might not have been sexy, but Eren looked torn between sympathy and guilt when he caught his eye, and Levi could see him forcing himself to concentrate on his injuries rather than the rest of him.

It wasn't the time to feel flattered.

His suit was torn and dirty and bloodstained, and Levi decided it probably wasn’t worth saving. It hadn't been all that expensive to start with. Eventually they got it off and Levi sat on the toilet seat in his boxers and stared at the sad pile of discarded clothing shoved into the corner while Eren examined him.

“Okay, the bullet only grazed you by the looks of it, but this really should have stitches,” Eren said with evident relief, perched on the edge of the bathtub as he examined Levi's side.

“Then get the sewing kit.” He wanted another cigarette. He wanted to let himself cry.

Eren sighed, “You need stuff; antibiotics, painkillers. It’s gonna hurt like hell when I clean this. And your leg.”

“Just get it over with, please,” Levi said tiredly. “You’re not in any position to argue with me right now.”

Eren didn’t argue further. He tried to be gentle, Levi could see that, but he hadn’t lied about it hurting. Eren did nurse things like asking him to breathe in, and checked for concussion, and he bandaged and taped up all of Levi’s various wounds. He cleaned him too, carefully washing off the blood and grease and dirt. He apologised when he had to do something that would hurt, but Levi honestly didn't mind. Pain was a comfort sometimes, and he took comfort where he could find it; in pain, in Eren's careful touches, in his breath against his skin. He'd make a very good nurse, Levi thought.

Or a lover. Shit. Well, it took his mind off things.

“I’ll take the test,” Eren said quietly, while he gently picked the last bits of gravel out of the long scrape on the underside of Levi’s left forearm with tweezers. “The DNA test.”

Levi hadn’t really been listening, he'd been wondering if getting a hard-on in these circumstances was a sign of a depraved mind. He was glad to be distracted from that train of thought and he lifted his head. “Hm?”

“I admit it, I’ll admit everything. I’ll tell everything. Just arrest me. After what happened to you, I don’t deserve anything better.” His voice cracked, but he kept going. “Just lock me up. You were right, okay?” He released Levi’s arm and hung his head. Levi turned to look at him, and he saw his shoulders shake.

“Are you crying, Eren?”

Eren nodded and wiped his nose with a clean tissue. “I’m scared. I don’t know what will happen to me.”

Levi sighed, “I’m not gonna arrest you.”

“You have to! They attacked you but they really want me. Lock me up and they’ll stop.” Eren balled his hands into fists. “For your sake, please do it.”

“Eren, they’ll kill you. If you make it through your trial, you’ll die in prison and the tougher you are the longer you’ll last, but I don’t believe you’re immortal. And despite all the things you’ve done, I’m not going to send you to your death. That is where we differ, remember? Now you understand what that means.”

“But-”

“If you want to confess, confess to me,” Levi said.

“I did everything you've accused me of,” he said. “You knew from the start.”

“How did you do it?”

“I don't know.”

Levi sighed.

“Why can’t I do anything right?” Eren asked miserably.

“You did a pretty good job on my leg,” Levi said.

Eren smiled weakly through his tears. “I don’t know how you stand it; you’re more bruise than not.” He gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time, a mixture of admiration and concern. He reached out and placed a hand cautiously on Levi's bicep, to give or receive comfort or to seek a response Levi wasn't sure.

“I do what I have to.” He tried to ignore the touch. “So what’s the diagnosis?”

“You’re a huge idiot who should go to hospital. I’m worried about infection; so keep a close eye on it. The bandages will need to be changed regularly.”

“I know that,” Levi said. “This isn't the first time I've taken a beating.”

Eren frowned at him and continued, “And you’ll risk tearing it open further if you do anything too strenuous. So rest.”

Levi shook his head. “No, we can’t afford to waste any more time. That’s one of the reasons I didn’t go to hospital.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Call for help. Get my phone.” Eren obediently retrieved his phone from where he’d put it on a shelf out of the way, and Levi called Erwin. It went straight to voice-mail, which suggested he was probably in court today. “It’s me. Call me back as soon as you can. It’s urgent.” He hung up.

Eren looked at him curiously.

Levi shrugged, “I doubt he’ll get back to us until lunch time. But we’re safe enough in here.” He’d put his phone on silent and he saw he had several missed calls, but none of them were from Hange and he felt secure ignoring them, even the one from Pixis. If he was asked about it later, he’d claim he was asleep.

Eren cleaned up the first aid supplies and put everything back where it was supposed to go, and then he sat on the edge of the bathtub where he'd sat to patch Levi up and stared at his hands resting in his lap. He’d stopped crying, even though his eyes and nose were still a little red.

Levi had swallowed some painkillers, and there was nothing to do but wait for them to kick in, and wonder whether he should send Eren out to make coffee or something. In the end, he didn’t; Eren’s presence was reassuring, and that in itself was a measure of how the events of the past hour or so had shaken him.

Eren had saved his life, there was no doubt, and Levi felt grateful. Levi felt a great many things about the young man keeping him company. Not all of them were positive, but he now understood, a bit, how he was able to do what he did and remain untarnished and unafraid; he let his monstrous side do it for him. And when he was himself, he'd been kinder and gentler than anyone Levi had ever known. He'd asked Eren to look after him for practical reasons, and he had, but in the end he'd soothed more than his broken skin.

Levi was turning these things over in his mind when Eren finally spoke.

“So, are you gay?”

Levi stared at him. He wanted to have this conversation now ? It wasn’t a question he ever wanted to hear , no matter how he chose to answer.

“Whatever tipped you off?” he asked.

Eren didn’t seem to notice his sarcasm. “When you were talking about the boy who died,” he said, still staring at the wall. “You said he had a nice boyfriend. I dunno, maybe I was projecting, but something about the way you said it.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I guess I wished that could be me, that I could be someone you’d say was a nice boyfriend. But that was pretty much screwed up from the start, wasn’t it?”

Eren sighed and stared firmly at he floor. He didn’t seem to expect an answer, and Levi let the silence stretch on as he looked at the strange, beautiful young man. He reached out and stroked Eren’s hair. It was as soft and fine as Levi had imagined it would be. Eren raised his head when he felt the touch, looking up at Levi with surprise.

It was the first kiss they’d shared with permission. It was asked and given silently as they drifted closer, as if it was inevitable, effortless. Eren’s lips were soft and pliable, his breath hitching in his throat. He tasted faintly of salt; he’d been crying after all, and he smelled like the blood on his clothes and the disinfectant he’d all but used up from the first aid kit.

Levi treated him gently. He wasn’t good at talking about this sort of thing, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say anyway. Eren tasted him hesitantly, as if he expected to be pushed away at any moment, but Levi felt he’d reached a point of no return; maybe this would still end up with Eren behind bars or worse, but Levi was prepared to break his own heart if it came to that.

In the meantime, they had this.

They were alive, and they’d come so close to being otherwise. No one else could have saved him, no one else could have come close.

Levi knew the fire had been rekindled when Eren slanted his head to the side and reached for him, draping his arms over his shoulders.

Levi pulled back, slightly. “You’re covered in blood,” he murmured. “It’s filthy.”

Eren hesitated for a moment, looking down at his shirt and then simply pulling it off over his head and tossing it on the pile with Levi’s suit.

It hadn’t been what Levi had expected, although he should have known better. It hadn’t been what he’d thought he’d wanted either, but Eren’s lips were on his and his arms were around his shoulders, warm and careful of hurting him, and he smelled like him again, something that wasn’t just his apartment or his bike or whatever that horrible cheap aftershave he used was.

Just Eren.

And it made Levi’s blood quicken. He took himself by surprise, curling his fingers around a fistful of Eren’s hair while his other hand explored the firm planes of his torso. Eren made encouraging little humming sounds and this felt so familiar, losing himself in Eren again.

This time there was no pulling back, no unkind words. They were too far apart, perched awkwardly on bathroom furniture as they were and Eren slid off the edge of the bath and Levi followed him onto the floor, barely breaking contact, gasping with some sort of pained relief when Eren’s warm, tanned body was finally pressed up against his.

“Be careful, don't hurt yourself,” Eren mumbled against his mouth. It seemed a bit late for that, he thought wryly. He scraped his nails lightly across one of Eren's nipples. “Fuck!” Eren breathed.

He wanted to, more than anything else in the world. His hand slid down to the fly of Eren’s jeans.

“Oh God, yes, touch me,” Eren panted and reached down and ran a thumb along Levi’s cock, which had lengthened to strain at his boxers.

Levi recoiled and swatted Eren’s hand away. Eren paused, his cheeks flushed and mouth swollen, his eyes wide in sudden uncertain shock.

“We’re not going to yank each other off like a pair of teenagers,” Levi growled; he got the feeling if Eren tried he’d probably rub him raw in his enthusiasm and he wasn’t in the mood for patiently teaching him what he liked. They could do that later, if there was a later.

He didn’t know how much experience Eren had, although given his general attitude it wouldn’t have surprised him if he’d had more than Levi himself, but he wasn’t going to let him try and take some sort of lead. He’d been shot, cut, bruised, battered and nearly spread across his own driveway like strawberry jam, and it was about time something today happened just the way he wanted it to. And it was time Eren learned the limits of how much of his shit Levi was going to take if he wanted to be a ‘nice boyfriend.’

He tugged at Eren’s belt, “Get these off.”

Eren obeyed. He did whatever Levi indicated he should, which was to shuck off the rest of his clothes, turn around, and get on his hands and knees. He rested his forearms on the edge of the bath and looked over his shoulder at Levi, who knelt back and admired Eren’s naked form. He wanted to mark every inch of him; sink his teeth into his flawless skin, taste him, own him. Eren's arse was perfect, and Levi couldn't resist giving one of his buttocks a soft slap and watching his balls tighten in response.

“Are you going to fuck me?” Eren asked breathlessly.

“I wish,” Levi replied, almost hoarse with lust. “But I don’t have the patience right now.” Or the lube. Or anything.

“Oh.” He couldn’t read Eren’s expression.

He ran his hand down Eren’s back, watching him arch and flex into the touch like a cat. “You’re.” He wasn’t good at compliments. “Quite something.”

Eren laughed, breathlessly, and Levi didn’t know if he was delighted or disgusted when a drop of precome beaded then rolled off the end of Eren’s cock and splattered on the clean tile beneath him. “I’m nothing,” he said. “Compared to you. I’m scrawny. Puny. Even beaten up you’re gorgeous. Maybe even hotter like that, am I sick for thinking so, Levi?”

Levi swallowed, hard, his mouth full of spit and the material of his boxers rubbing wetly against his length.

“I think you’re talking too much.” Jesus Christ, Eren had missed his true calling as a phone sex operator, Levi thought. “Put your legs together,” he ordered, kneeling behind him and pulling his boxers halfway down his legs. The tiles were cold and hard beneath his knees. This was a terrible idea for several reasons, and half of those reasons were under bandages but Levi had a self-destructive streak and for once indulging it would be pleasurable rather than painful. Well, probably a bit painful too.

He knew he should be careful, he should be mindful of his injuries, but at that moment Eren was probably the most fuckable thing he’d seen in his entire life. But he wouldn’t actually fuck him. If nothing else their height difference would have made this position fairly awkward anyway.

Instead he butted the end of his cock between Eren’s legs, smearing him with precome. Eren pushed back against him, and Levi saw him move one of his arms, putting his weight on the other. At first he thought he was jerking himself off but then he felt Eren’s fingers, slick with either spit or precome, easing his path, and lingering on his cock for a few moments, thumbing the tip and making him suck in a sharp breath.

Levi drew his hips back and Eren braced himself on both arms again. The first time Levi snapped his hips forward, Eren yelped, as if he really was being fucked. He didn’t stop making noise after that, either. The hard surfaces of the room reflected the sounds back at them; their heavy breathing, Eren’s gasps and vocalisations and the sound of Levi’s hips and legs smacking into the back of Eren’s thighs, loud and crisp, as if there were another couple in the room with them.

The auditory version of fucking in front of a mirror, Levi supposed. It seemed to serve to egg Eren on to outdo his echo. Or maybe he was just noisy. Levi wasn’t even touching his cock; he’d got a decent grip on his hips and he’d occasionally run a hand up his back.

“Tell me when you want to come,” Levi gritted out, not breaking rhythm. Eren didn’t sound like it would take much to get him over the edge. Levi could feel the threat of friction burn, but he wasn’t far off himself and he didn’t slow down; Christ, what was one more scrape on a day like this?

He started to add his own voice to Eren’s and Eren clearly made a huge effort to be quiet for a few moments to hear him better, holding his breath as his hips trembled under Levi’s hands. Levi rewarded his dedication by wringing out a groan he’d been intending to swallow.

Eren practically writhed in response. “Levi, please, I wanna come. Please.”

Levi wasn’t playing some game with him, he just figured he’d finish far to quickly if he hadn’t held off and so when Eren asked, he obliged. He curled down over his back and wrapped a hand around his cock. He stroked him in time to his own movements.

Eren was squirming and bucking beneath him, making the most obscene and delightful sounds and the pain receded as Levi rutted mindlessly against him. He came. He came with his eyes shut and his mouth open and his head flung back. He didn't know what he said, if anything. He realised, seconds later, or maybe centuries, when he'd spent himself between Eren's thighs, that his hand had stopped moving, and Eren was desperate for it to start again. He was clinging on to the side of the bathtub so hard his fingertips were going white, and his hips jerked and rolled as he tried to fuck Levi's unresponsive hand.

“Levi,” he whined.

“Sorry,” Levi breathed, and he squeezed Eren's cock before giving it a couple of strokes and Eren was done, coming over his perfectly clean floor and nearly deafening him with his own name in the enclosed space.

All the pain came back then. It brought friends. Levi released Eren and slumped back against the wall, gritting his teeth. Christ. This kid would be the death of him.

“Are you okay?” Eren asked, still breathless, he turned around and crawled over to Levi's side, brushing his hair out of his face and bending down to check his bandages, even while he was still breathing hard, a sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. Levi just nodded. He could see his own come glistening on Eren's legs as he moved and Eren caught him looking at it and smirked proudly.

“What are you grinning about?” Levi asked. “You're filthy. So's my floor.”

“So?” Eren beamed, apparently completely cured of any lingering trauma from the events of that morning. He looked as happy as he had ever looked. Levi scowled at him. “I'll clean them both up,” he promised.

“Fine,” Levi said. “Go and shower. I need a smoke.”

Chapter Text

Eren offered him the box of tissues before helping him to his feet, and then Levi went to fetch some clean clothes. When he returned he could hear the shower running, and he left Eren to it.

Levi's balcony was quite small, but he had enough room for a chair to sit on, a table big enough to hold a drink and an ashtray, and a few potted herbs along the edge near the railing. He didn't much enjoy looking after plants, but he needed them for his cooking.

He sank down into the canvas chair, sore and sated, and stared at nothing while he smoked. That had been inevitable, probably. He'd already demonstrated an inability to keep his hands off Eren, after all. He didn't regret it; not yet anyway, but he had to be out of his fucking mind if he thought it was going to end well.

“You shouldn't smoke, you know,” Eren said, appearing in the doorway a few minutes later.

“What are you, my doctor?”

“Nope!” he said brightly, popping the p in his mouth like bubblegum. He sounded so cheerful Levi looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He'd left a clean shirt out for him, and Eren was wearing it with his dirty jeans. His feet were bare, and his hair was still damp, and he looked so perfect he could have been an advertisement for a product aimed at someone much cooler than Levi was. He rocked forward on his toes, revealing a strip of bare skin above his belt. “I'm your boyfriend.” He beamed, that shit-eating grin that usually never failed to irritate Levi. Today it made his heart hurt.

“Eren-”

“I don't care,” he said earnestly. “I told you I'd confess. Anything to make you safe. I don't care if you have to arrest me. I really, really like you, Levi. So, even if it's just for now, I'm really happy.”

Levi could only wonder why.

“I need to hear the whole story,” he said. “From the beginning. Not just what you did, but why.”

“Okay, that's fair.”

“Make some coffee first. I get the feeling we're going to be a little while.”

Which was how he ended up with Eren sitting at his feet because there wasn't room for a second chair, Eren's head resting against his knee while they drank coffee and Eren talked.

“I guess it started with what happened when I met Mikasa, but I don't remember it all that well. I know what happened, but it was like it didn't really matter. I remember telling myself 'I killed them, I killed them' but it didn't make it any more real; I just didn't care. And then someone killed Mom.”

Levi let his hand fall to Eren's shoulder.

“I told you about that already. I thought about it a lot, and in the end I guess I realised it was probably because of Grisha and what he did. I seemed to remind him of her, because after she died we saw even less of him. I mean, we were looked after but he seemed twice as busy, and worried. I wanted to ask him, but I was scared of what he might say. I thought it might have somehow been my fault and I didn't want to hear that. I was just a kid.

“Armin started getting bullied a lot when we went to high school. They said he looked girly and gay, and it pissed me off. I got into a lot of fights. And one time, there was this bunch of guys; they were waiting for me, not Armin. He wasn't a challenge. They really went for me, you know, there was blood pouring out of my nose- and then, I just.” Eren shook his head. “You saw what happened earlier. It feels like...” He sighed. “Nothing hurt. Nothing mattered. I was so calm. I picked myself up and I beat them. It was like the whole world was slow and weak and I decided, calmly, that I was going to beat them up so they'd leave us alone for good. One of them was so desperate to get away he kicked me in the nuts and it hurt for like two seconds- I'm not invulnerable, I just heal really fast. If someone shot me in the head, I think I'd die. But I'd probably duck first,” he allowed himself a small, grim smile.

Eren shrugged, “When I was done with them I just walked away and I was fine. Apparently there was screaming, Mikasa said she heard it at the ball park a block away but I don't remember it.”

His breathing had picked up at the mere memory of it. Levi squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I was scared. I didn't know what had happened. I tried it again, later, by myself, but didn't seem to work. I tried to forget about it; focus on school, focus on being better than Dad, on getting into college and my friends. I figured, I'd ask Dad about everything when I was an adult, and could stand on my own feet.

“And then he disappeared. I didn't even notice for a few months, but then I tried to contact him about something, old photos I think, and I couldn't. He was just gone. His apartment was rented out to someone else. I thought maybe they'd got him, like they got Mom. I couldn't lose them both. So I started looking for him. He had this kind of informal surgery in Oakshott Lanes, but when I went there the guys inside told me to fuck off and waved guns. And I, I got really mad. I was just gonna ask 'em. When I mentioned Grisha, at least one of them said they knew him, but he seemed to think I was collecting money and they shut the door. It was a really, really thick door. I had this knife- it was birthday present, from one of the rare occasions Dad tried to do the whole father son bonding thing. We went fishing. Anyway. When I broke in they tried to shoot me and I'd just had it with these people. So used the knife. But it was stupid. I didn't find anything.

“I was so scared when I got home. I thought I'd be arrested, but nothing happened. No one even seemed to have noticed. I had to be more logical.”

“Balto,” Levi said softly.

“Dad used to complain about him. Said even after all these years he couldn't get anything on him. That there was no insurance. So I thought I'd try him next. I didn't mean to kill him but he panicked and I just wanted him to stop running around but when I stabbed him he died. And when I saw the papers it felt like a good thing, you know? Like Southport was better off without him; like we were all better off. I didn't feel bad about any of it, really.”

“Father Nick.”

“I wasn't getting far on my own. I figured if someone had killed my parents, they'd be a professional, so there's this guy. My dad knew him. He just kinda knows stuff, and the information's always good. Dad employed him a lot, so I knew which places to ask around for him. I don't really want to snitch on him, so I don't want to give you a name,” Eren said quietly. “But I asked him who'd be most likely to organise a hit on someone. Who would you call? And he said Father Nick and that I'd be better off leaving him alone. But I remembered Nick.

“He came to our house, once. Dad was furious; he could have phoned, he said, he had rules about keeping the rest of us out of it. But he did what Nick told him to anyway. He treated someone in the kitchen; he made us all stay in our rooms until he was gone but I watched them leave out the upstairs window. I could believe Nick would kill anyone. He scared me. But, I needed to keep going. I couldn't just stop now I'd already done so much. This guy, he warned me, he said I'd send the whole thing tumbling down like dominoes.”

“Was his name Mike?” Levi asked sharply.

“Do you know him?” Eren looked at him with guilty surprise.

“That son of a bitch,” Levi muttered. “Continue.”

“And then you showed up.” Eren turned his head and nuzzled the side of Levi's knee. “I couldn’t question Nick. He went for his gun like a snake and I just reacted and-”

“Punched him into a wall.”

“Yeah. And then you were there and I really didn't want to hurt you so I ran. And then you showed up like a day later and I was so impressed, you know? And kinda happy.”

“You kill people!”

“Who deserve it! You were tempted yourself, weren't you? Anyway, when I arrived, Nick thought I was someone else at first. Like, someone else in the Titans who wanted his place or something. By that point, it was starting to look like no one knew about Grisha, but I still had to find who killed Mom. If the Titans didn't do it, they'd probably know who did, so I thought I'd stick with them, but they were waiting for me. And it was like an ordinary place in the city; I'd overheard Nick talking about it when I broke in. There were people around and they firing guns and I didn't want to do that thing I do- I was scared I'd accidentally hurt someone innocent. So I ran for the roof, and someone shot me so it happened anyway and I healed up and just ran and ran.”

“All the way home,” Levi murmured.

“I wanted to make them pay for what they'd done. It wasn't hard to find a few Titans on social media, so I just left a few comments about how the guy who offed Nick would be waiting for them at the cannery, but well, that kind of got derailed.

“I shouldn't have done that, I know. I got distracted from my original purpose. I just need to find who killed my Mom, and give them what they deserve. That's all. No one else was gonna do it, were they? But not if it means you could die. I didn't mean that to happen at all and I'm so sorry you got hurt.”

Eren fell silent and drank the rest of his lukewarm coffee. He'd put milk in it, but had remembered Levi liked his black without being prompted. Levi found himself gently ruffling Eren's hair and reflecting that his basil plants were going to seed. Eren hadn't told him anything that surprised him; he only wished he knew by what mechanism Eren made himself superhuman.

“I wish I knew why I was like this,” Eren said softly, echoing Levi's silent thoughts. “It's monstrous, isn't it? I saw the way you looked at me. You pointed a gun at me.”

“I didn't shoot,” Levi reminded him.

“You thought about it. I scared you.”

“Yeah, you scare me.”

“So why am I here? Why are you so kind to me?”

“I scared people too, once. I believe in redemption, Eren. I have to. If I didn't, I don't know, there'd be no point in anything I do. But you can't just redeem someone; they have to decide to do it themselves.” Turning up on Erwin's doorstep, hungover and sick with grief. I'm tired of this. “And that's only the first step.”

Eren looked up at him, “What did you do, Levi?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary. I wasn't some master criminal. Or serial killer,” he added with a pointed look. “I was just another brat with nothing to look forward to, and nothing better to do.”

Eren regarded him sadly.

“Anyway, let's change the subject.” He didn't like be stared at like he was a foster kitten. “You want lunch?”

“Yeah.”

Eren perked up right away, and Levi shook his head. “All right then, 'boyfriend,' I'll cook if you clean the blood off the hallway floor. I'm assuming you've already wiped up the jizz in the bathroom. I don't want to make plans without consulting Erwin, so we're staying here until he calls.”

“Who's Erwin?” Eren asked, collecting the cups while Levi got to his feet.

“Someone I know. You'll probably meet him soon enough. I can't imagine his curiosity will let him do otherwise.”

Eren cleaned up about as well as Levi expected he would, and then he sprawled on the couch with his phone while Levi threw together spaghetti alla puttanesca, a dish so simple it was barely worthy of being a recipe in the first place, but Eren was incredibly impressed by the end result.

They sat at the kitchen table, Eren inhaling his pasta while Levi forced himself to eat.

“I'm just letting everyone know I'm not going to class,” Eren said with his mouth full. “So they don't get worried when I don't show up. I'm probably already fired from Shiganshina Noodles cause I didn't show up yesterday either, but I told them too.”

“Mm.”

“God this is good. You're amazing. I could eat this every day.”

“You'd get fat.”

“You'd just have to make sure I got enough exercise.” Eren winked and Levi coughed and needed a drink of water.

Eren looked like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, but Levi knew they were still in vast amounts of trouble and they couldn't exactly hide out in his apartment forever. Especially given how much food Eren could put away. Hopefully, Erwin would have some ideas.

Eren was doing the washing up when Erwin rang. Levi took the phone into his bedroom. It wasn't that he didn't trust Eren, exactly, but he was still caught off guard by this whole boyfriend business and he wanted to claw back a bit of privacy.

“Never thought I'd be so happy to hear your voice on the line,” Levi said dryly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I saw the papers,” Erwin said. “Are you all right? Bossard didn't seem to have any details.”

“I'm functioning. Just.” He'd functioned well enough to frot Eren senseless on his bathroom floor, but he wasn't about to tell Erwin that. “Listen, would you?” He gave Erwin a quick run-down of the situation and when he'd finished he'd got the brief satisfaction of rending his old acquaintance utterly speechless for a few moments.

“Eren's at your place? Now?”

“We just had lunch.”

“How civilised.”

“It's complicated, Erwin. I don't know how safe I am, but I can't trust the Department. So far the only people who know about Eren are you, me, and Hange and I'd like to keep it that way for now. Any ideas?”

“Hm. Come to my parents' place.”

“What?”

“Best security money can buy. And let's face it, no one is going to be looking for you at North Point. We can have a proper discussion.”

“Are your parents home?” Levi asked.

“Why, are you planning on bringing a keg?” At Levi's irritated sigh Erwin relented. “They're in Washington and I'm not expecting them back for two weeks at least. I'll call ahead and let the house know to expect you. Do you need transport? There was a picture of your car in the Star.”

“No, I think the family Rolls might draw a bit too much attention.”

“It's not a Rolls, Levi.”

“Yeah, yeah. Christ, your house is creepy though.”

“You don't have to tell me that, I grew up there. I'll see if I can get out of whatever's in my schedule for this afternoon. Either way, I'll see you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Erwin.”

“I'm really curious now. I'm looking forward to hearing the whole story.” He hung up.

“What's happening?” Eren asked, hovering in the doorway.

“I've found us somewhere safe to stay for a while,” Levi said. “Is your bike still in one piece?”

“Yeah, you banged it up a bit but no worse than you banged yourself up,” Eren grinned. “What's the plan then?”

“We go to Erwin's house and talk to Erwin. He's one of the best lawyers in the state; someone whose help you could really use right now.”

“Right,” Eren nodded.

“I'm going to pack a few things. I don't really want to stay in Erwin's house any longer than I have to, but it's best to be prepared.” Levi looked around the room. Other than his pot plants, there was nothing keeping him here, nothing that needed to be taken care of while he was gone.

They left half an hour later, Eren taking the bike around the back of Levi's apartment building and meeting him there, avoiding what was left of the crime scene out the front. No one had bothered Levi since; Hange had been as good as their word. Levi supposed he owed them an update, and called Hange before he left. He told them where he was going, and they seemed relieved; they knew who Erwin was.

“Bossard's desperate for an interview,” Hange said.

“Don't give him one,” Levi replied.

“With you, not me,” Hange replied, exasperated, before realising it was a joke. “You know, for a guy who cheated death this morning, you sound like you're in an awfully good mood.”

“Maybe you were right, Hange. I just needed to get out of the office for a day or two.”

“Yeah, right. Try not to die, boss.”

Levi put his phone away and realised Hange was right; he was in a good mood. He called himself a fool under his breath, and climbed onto the bike behind his smiling green-eyed devil.

They didn't go directly to Erwin's house, instead making a detour past the university. Levi's arms were aching from hanging on to Eren's waist. Eren didn't have the spare helmet and Levi ducked his head out of the slipstream. The blonde young man he'd seen in the doorway to Mikasa's house was waiting for them near the bus stop, a bag and the spare helmet over his arm. He handed the former to Eren who secured it to the bike, and the latter to Levi, who was gingerly checking that his various bandages were still holding.

“I'm Armin,” he said, holding out his hand for Levi to shake. He gave Levi such a thoughtful, searching look he was quite sure Eren had spilled the beans about him in one of the endless texts he'd been sending all morning.

“Levi,” he replied. Armin's hand was cool and slender; Levi could see why he'd had a hard time at school; he was even shorter than Levi himself was. He seemed quite composed and self assured now though.

Armin glanced at Eren, still fussing over his bike, trying to work out how to balance both his and Levi's luggage.

“Grisha talked a lot about being independent and having his insurance in place,” Armin spoke quietly and quickly. His speech had a rehearsed quality. “But he always seemed to do what he was told. Even if it put his family in danger.”

“Father Nick and the midnight visit,” Levi said.

Armin looked startled that he knew. “The only thing he might have done that would piss someone off that I know of was rescuing Mikasa. They don't like to talk about it, but I can't imagine it made Grisha any friends.”

“Eren doesn't want to consider his sister might be indirectly responsible for the death of his mother.”

Armin looked at him with renewed interest, and some respect. “Yeah. That's all I got. I tried to get him to move on for years, but maybe this is the only way to end it. I doubt his mother's killer is still out there, but maybe he needs to learn that for himself.”

“In the end, I may have to take him in, you know.”

“I know.” Armin's lips thinned as he frowned. “He seems to think that's one of your selling points, that you're prepared to do that to him if you have to.” He shook his head, “And that I don't understand.”

Levi did. Eren had such monstrous strength, what could be a greater comfort than someone stronger, someone willing to slay the beast if necessary? Eren feared himself more than anything else.

“Thank you,” Levi said.

“What are you two talking about?” Eren asked curiously. “We have to get going.”

“You,” Levi said. “What else?”

“Good things, I hope,” he said, looking from him to Armin with a cautious smile.

“The best,” Armin said. He smiled. “Good luck.”

“I'll be back in a few days,” Eren said, hugging his friend. “For my bioscience exam,” he rolled his eyes.

“Don't forget to study for it,” Armin said with a knowing look.

Eren just grinned. Yeah, he'd definitely told him. Levi sighed.

Eren checked his phone to work out how to get to Erwin's address and they took off again, somewhat slowly on the overloaded bike.

“What do you think of Armin?” Eren asked. “I saw you guys talking.”

“He's pretty sharp,” Levi replied.

He could feel Eren chuckle, “Yeah, he's always been way smarter than me.” They left the university grounds and sped up.

“Feels like a holiday,” he called over his shoulder. “We should take one together, like after exams or something.”

Levi didn't reply. It was a waste of breath trying to hold a conversation while they were moving anyway.

North Point was even more exclusive than South Shore. It was one of the first areas of Southport to be settled. The houses were were old and stately, and mostly hidden behind brick fences and towering hedges. The Smiths' house was no different. Levi had to direct Eren to the correct electric gate which guarded a vast expanse of lawn dotted with huge spreading trees.

“Wow,” Eren said, as Levi leaned over to press the button on the intercom. Levi gave his name to the man on the other end, and the gates unlocked and swung silently inward. Levi had been here before a few times, but he wasn't a regular visitor. Erwin himself wasn't a regular visitor any more. The house looked smaller in daylight.

It was still huge. It was built nearly a hundred years ago, a stately wood and stone edifice modelled on English mansions. It was in excellent repair, and ivy clambered over its walls. It had stables around the back although Levi couldn't remember if Erwin's parents still kept horses. Eren drove up to the front steps and Erwin himself came out to greet them, much to Levi's relief. He was wearing a suit and he had a newspaper tucked under his arm.

“Leave the keys in the bike,” he said as Eren killed the engine and they dismounted. “I'll have Nile put it in the garage. You look terrible,” he said to Levi.

“Thank you,” Levi replied. “Erwin Smith, Eren Jaeger.”

They shook hands. Erwin sized him up the way he sized up everyone, and Eren just looked nervous.

“It's nice to meet you. This is a really nice house,” Eren ventured.

“Is it? I never liked it. Too big and draughty. Come in and have a drink and we can talk.”

Chapter Text

Erwin led them inside through the grand carved wooden doors and grinned cheerfully at the thin, scowling man with the scraggly beard who held it open for them.

“Thank you Nile, take the bike to the garage would you? I expect our guests will be staying over tonight at least.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I don’t recognise him,” Levi said when he’d gone.

“He’s new,” Erwin said. “I’m reserving judgement, but it couldn’t hurt him to smile occasionally.”

“Or shave.”

“Here, you’ll want a look at this,” Erwin handed over the newspaper, which turned out to be special edition of the Southport Star . Bossard’s name was, as Levi had expected, front and centre of the byline.

Erwin led them through a grand hallway, around an enormous stuffed and mounted bear to the library. One of Erwin's ancestors had been a keen hunter, and the glassy-eyed trophies of his kills were mounted on every free wall. The effect was rather unnerving, especially juxtaposed with the rather kitsch Victorian paintings that hung among them.

Eren nearly tripped over his own feet trying to take everything in at once. Levi had to admit, he’d felt exactly the same way when he’d first visited this place, but he liked to think he hadn’t been so obvious about it. Everything was old; the furniture, the artworks on the walls, and all beautifully kept. Levi felt deeply sorry for whoever had to keep the house dusted; if he recalled it was a series of well-paid but overworked maids. The Smiths did not outsource their housekeeping.

Their footsteps echoed on the hardwood floors, and were then muffled by a series of oriental rugs.

The library was just as Levi remembered it, a large comfortable room lined with books that were probably never read, and set of doors that opened onto a patio and gave a view of the rose garden and part of the tennis court. Eren went to look at the view while Levi sank gratefully onto a couch that was probably worth more than he was.

“Today Detective Levi proved that he has Southport’s villains rattled when they responded this morning with a cowardly attack on the city’s hero cop,” Levi read aloud and winced. “The Star brings you exclusive pictures of the vehicle, blah blah.” He could hear glass clinking as Erwin fixed them drinks at the sideboard. “Is not available for comment but is understood to be recovering from his ordeal with only minor injuries. Thank you, Hange.” Levi shook his head, and kept reading out of sheer morbid fascination. “Well might these gangsters regret not doing a better job, for surely once he returns to work, arrests will soon follow.” He closed the newspaper as violently as it was possible to do so. “What the fuck is wrong with this guy? I’ve never read such ridiculous rubbish in all my years.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you,” Eren suggested.

“Stop projecting,” Levi retorted, tossing the newspaper onto the side table.

Erwin’s eyebrows show right up at that remark and turned to look at them both and Eren flushed fetchingly and bit his lip, looking pleased. Levi met Erwin’s gaze and shrugged. There was no point trying to keep it from him; he would have found them out within ten minutes anyway.

“I see. Are you old enough to drink, Eren?”

“He’s not,” Levi said. “But I don’t really give a fuck.”

“That’s okay, may I have mineral water please?”

“You can have whatever you like,” Erwin said. “Mother always keeps a bunch of mixers on hand for her tennis club girls in the fridge if you want something else. No tequila though,” he said, handing Levi a tumbler with half an inch of scotch in the bottom of it.

After investigating the bar fridge Eren poured himself a glass of ginger ale and sat next to Levi on the couch, picking up the newspaper and skimming the front page.

“So do I ask Annika to make up one room or two?” Erwin asked, clearly amused as he sat in an armchair opposite them.

“Two.”

“One.”

They chorused.

“You need someone to look after you,” Eren said.

“What’s wrong with him?” Erwin asked.

“He got shot! He needs stitches. I’m a nurse-”

“Nursing student,” Levi interrupted him.

“You’re finishing each other’s sentences already,” Erwin commented. “Two rooms then, I don't want to argue. And I don't want you to scandalise Annika.”

Since Annika had known them both as young men, and Erwin since he was a boy, Levi doubted that she would be scandalised by anything either of them came up with, but it was as good an excuse as any. Eren didn't argue, although he looked far more disappointed than the situation warranted.

“How about a compromise; you can have adjacent rooms,” Erwin said, when he noticed Eren's expression.

Levi sighed. “Now that we’ve sorted out the sleeping arrangements, can we have a sensible discussion? At the risk of lowering everyone’s high spirits, people are trying to kill us.”

“I’m very interested in hearing what this is all about,” Erwin said, settling down into his chair.

Eren glanced at Levi.

“Go on,” Levi said. “Tell him what you told me. If you can’t trust a lawyer, who can you trust?”

Levi had heard this story already, and he let himself relax as Eren told it again. Occasionally Erwin would prompt him, or ask a question, but mostly he let Eren talk, watching him intently. When Eren finished Erwin stood and refreshed their drinks.

“You have a spectacular talent for getting into trouble,” Erwin said.

“They may or may not have gotten a good look at him this morning,” Levi said. “They don’t have his name, at least. So if he leaves town-”

“I’m not going to just leave and abandon you,” Eren protested. “I still need to find who killed my Mom anyway.”

“Levi?” Erwin asked.

“AOP,” Levi replied. “Accelerate outta problems. If we slow down now, if we stop, we’ll crash. Best thing we can do is hit the gas and hope we come out in one piece on the other side.”

“Which in this case means?”

“Gutting the Titans. They attacked a policeman in broad daylight, tried to kill him and shot up a respectable residential street to do so. There are some things which even Southport will not put up with. If we don't do something about this, the gangs will run the city in five years openly, not just through back channels. If we let them get away with breaking the rule about killing cops, they’re not going to stop. And we should at least try and close Carla Jaeger’s case.” He glanced at Eren, “That’s all I can offer.”

“I appreciate it,” Eren said.

“More than enough to be getting on with,” Erwin said. “Just the three of us?”

“Hange will help if need be, but I’d rather not scuttle their career as well. Don’t worry, we’ve got some sort of werewolf on our side. How can we possibly lose?”

“Yes, it’s fascinating,” Erwin said, leaning forward and regarding Eren with interest for a few moments. Eren looked deeply uncomfortable until he looked away. “So do you have any leads?”

“Until my day got rudely interrupted, I was going to try and track down Grisha. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s him. He dropped off the radar about six months ago, but I don’t think anyone’s been actively looking for him since. No one’s found a body; I’m assuming he’s alive for now.”

“Okay, I’ve got some contacts in federal law enforcement and intelligence. I’ll see if they’ve got anything for us. In the meantime, I’m calling a doctor,” he said with a pointed look at Levi.

“Erwin-”

“Family doctor, very discreet. And you’re gonna need a signature to take any more days off work.”

He had a point.

“Thank you for doing this,” Eren spoke up suddenly. “I really appreciate it.”

Erwin looked at him, “Levi’s a good friend. It’s the least I can do. Not to mention, if we manage to break the back of one of Southport's biggest gangs it'll be quite a feather in our caps.”

Of course he'd seize upon that angle, Levi thought.

“In the meantime, stay as long as you like. If you're hungry, Annika cooks. Just ask her for a snack and she'll oblige. Most of the staff have taken a couple of weeks off while my parents are away, so you shouldn't be disturbed.”

“Do you have wi-fi?” Eren asked.

Erwin started making phone calls while Eren opened his bag, took out his textbook and a laptop and installed himself at the desk in the library. Levi stayed on the couch; he was comfortable here, and saw no reason to move if he didn't have to.

He had to three-quarters of an hour later when the Smith's family doctor arrived. He was solid man, not particularly tall, with greying hair and beard. Apparently he'd known Mister Smith Senior in the army, and when Levi accompanied him to the room Annika had made up and let him peel off the bandages, he didn't comment on what was clearly a bullet wound. Instead, he stitched him up, gave him an antibiotics shot and some painkillers he shouldn't have been able to get without a prescription.

Such were the perks of money and connections, Levi thought, but he was too grateful at that particular moment to resent it too much.

The doctor asked him no questions, although he did tell him he should think about quitting smoking, and when he was taking his leave he looked Levi in the eye and wished him luck. It looked like he'd read the papers.

When Levi returned to the library Eren was still studying. He looked up and put down his pen when Levi came in.

“Erwin seems nice,” he said.

“He had a talk with you did he?” Levi asked, stretching out on the couch gingerly.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. But whatever he wanted to know, I can guarantee he found out.”

“I see.” Eren fell silent for a while. “Um, if you're not busy can you do me a favour?”

“Do I have to move?”

“Nope.” Levi heard him get up and he brought over several printed pages. “Can you quiz me on these, please? Normally Armin would do it.”

“That doesn't seem too onerous,” Levi said, accepting the papers. As he did so, Eren bent down and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” He was gone before Levi could respond with anything other than a sharp inhale.

Levi looked at the questions, and started reading, but few of the words were familiar, let alone made sense, and soon they were getting jumbled up in his mind as the combination of painkillers and alcohol worked through his system.

The next thing he knew the lights were on, it was dark outside, and an unfamiliar sweater was draped across his chest. It smelled like Eren.

“Hmm.” Levi tested his voice out. He raised his head and looked around. Eren was gone, along with both their bags.

Erwin was at the desk, tapping away at his laptop. “You're awake. I was wondering if I should let you sleep or wake you up for dinner,” Erwin said.

“What time is it?” Levi asked, trying to work some spit in his mouth.

“Nearly seven.”

Levi got up and helped himself to mineral water from the sideboard. He felt slightly hungry, which he supposed was a good thing.

“How are you feeling?” Erwin asked.

“I've had better days. Thanks for calling the doctor.”

“Don't mention it.”

Levi folded Eren's sweater neatly and put it on the couch before taking out a cigarette. He put it between his lips and shambled out to the patio. To his surprise, Erwin followed him; normally he avoided him when he smoked.

Levi stood downwind and looked out at the rose garden, the blooms pale and indistinct in the light of early evening. He could smell the flowers, and the scent of recently-watered lawn. This house really did feel like it belong in another country, or another century, sometimes.

Best get this over with.

“What do you think?” Levi asked, lighting his cigarette.

“He is not what I expected. Not from you.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. They'd never directly discussed these sorts of things; he got the impression Erwin swung whichever way he liked, but he'd never officially introduced a partner to Levi although Levi was sure he never slept alone more than he wished to. And Levi had certainly never shared the details of the short-lived alliances he'd forged over the years. “What did you expect from me then?”

“I thought if you were lucky you'd find another closet-case with a bad haircut and come to some sort of amicable weekend arrangement. Or maybe you'd get a cat.”

“They shed,” Levi said though a mouthful of smoke. He knew Erwin was being honest with him, which made it all the more depressing. That was what he thought he had to look forward to, and he was probably right.

“He's quite attractive,” Erwin said. “And he really likes you.”

“I know. And he's a fucking murderer.”

“Well.” Erwin waved his hand. “You could argue self-defence. He was clearly in an altered state of mind when he committed his crimes.” Erwin shrugged. “Reasonable doubt, right there. I could get him off.”

“Unfortunately you're a prosecutor, not a defence attorney. And whether or not you could sway a jury doesn't actually change the facts about what really happened. He kills people.” Levi shook his head, “Besides, if he ever ends up in a courtroom and his 'altered state' is mentioned if he doesn't go to jail he'll end up in a government research facility. I've seen him in action, Erwin. It's terrifying. And the military would kill for it; he's basically a super-soldier.”

“Well, we just have to make sure he stays out of a courtroom then.”

Levi frowned and looked at his friend. Erwin was looking out at the darkened garden, his forearms resting on the carved stone railing.

“Why? Why are you throwing your support behind him?”

Erwin glanced at him. “Because I haven't seen you like this for a long time. You look more alive than you have since you joined the Force.”

“I wasn't alive back then, Erwin, I was looking for a pleasant way to die.” He fingered the healing injury on his jaw, “You can't say self-destructiveness is a good outcome.”

“But you're not looking for a way to die this time. AOP, Levi. You haven't used that phrase in ten years. I remember when you lived by that philosophy.” Erwin smiled and shook his head. “Look, you're not who you were. You can get some of that spark back without setting yourself on fire, and I think it's a good thing. If Eren makes you happy-”

“Fuck off, Erwin. Am I the only one here with any sense? It was probably a mistake to get involved with him in the first place. And-” Levi cut himself off. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Erwin. “You've changed the subject. What's your real reason for helping Eren?”

“See, you haven't lost your edge. Look, if Eren keeps his freedom, and we keep his secret, he could be useful in the future. He could save lives, Levi.”

“You want to turn him into some sort of pet attack dog.”

“You think he hasn't thought about this? He wants to help and he's certainly driven to protect you.”

“No,” Levi shook his head. “If he tries that I will arrest him. Let me finish,” he said, before Erwin could mount another argument. “He has not faced up to what he has done. You haven't seen the other side of him. He's sweet and polite and he does his homework, but he is also completely out of control. If he decides to do something, he does it, and if people die in the process, people he's already decided don't matter, or deserve it, he doesn't care. He didn't kill anyone today because I asked him not to. But he could decide at any time that it's not worth the risk leaving someone alive.”

“So make him care,” Erwin said. “Once you didn't care either, and now if anything you care too much.”

“I made the decision, Erwin. I came to you and asked for a second chance. Eren hasn't done that. Whatever he feels about me, it's not the same as deciding that he needs to change. And I can't-” Levi crushed his cigarette out. “I'm weak to him. It's all I can do to convince myself that I could arrest him, that I will, when the time is right.”

They fell silent.

That was how Eren found them.

“Um?” They turned to see the young man standing in the doorway. “I think dinner's ready. It smells really good.”

“I've missed Annika's cooking,” Erwin said. “It's the only thing I really do miss about this place sometimes.”

Annika looked much the same as Levi remembered, maybe a bit greyer. She remembered him, and clucked over his injuries and served him extra beef stroganoff. He'd pulled the dutiful son act on her years ago, at some point it had ceased to entirely be an act, although they only saw each other once or twice a year at most. The Smith's usual chef had also taken some time off, but neither Levi nor Erwin objected to this in the slightest. There was good food, and there was Annika's home cooking and the latter was what Levi hadn't realised he'd needed until he sat down to a plate of it.

The three of them sat down one end of a long dining table, overseen by a large portrait of a Smith ancestor, probably the hunting enthusiast, given the rifle in the crook of his arm and the dead tiger at his feet.

Erwin could carry a conversation effortlessly, by himself, for hours if need be, but Eren did his best to contribute. He talked about his friends, and his career ambitions, and Levi spoke only when he absolutely had to. He still felt sore and tired, and he concentrated on eating. The conversation with Erwin had left him feeling drained and depressed.

He excused himself and bid the other two goodnight as soon as he'd finished eating. When he went back to his room he saw his bag was on the end of the bed, and Eren's was nowhere to be seen. At least that was one fight he didn't have to have. He couldn’t remember if he'd stayed in this room before or not. The Smith's had half a dozen guest rooms; the house had been built back in the days when guests travelled via carriage and stayed for weeks. It was nice enough; there weren't any stuffed animal heads on the walls, but Levi knew he'd find the heavy drapes on the windows and the deep carpet stifling after a few days. Annika had aired the room out for a few hours, but an air of disuse still clung to it despite the fresh flowers in the vase on the antique dressing table.

He took his shoes off and called Hange for an update, perched on the edge of the unfamiliar bed. They didn't have much to report, other than they were getting awfully tired of having cameras pointing at them whenever they left the office.

Levi told them that he'd obtained medical attention, and Hange sounded very relieved to hear it.

“When can we expect you back?” they asked. “I kind of miss you. You have a face that keeps people away so I can concentrate.”

“Thanks, Hange. And I don't know. I've got a medical certificate until the end of the week. I have stitches in my back, but they don't bother me too much. We'll see, I guess.”

“Uh huh. And you're busy with your side projects, I take it?”

“Hange, I'm doing you a favour.”

“I know you think you are. Just don't forget you've got people on your side, you know? And not just Bossard.”

“You read that, did you?”

“Read it? I've started a scrapbook. I'm going to give it to you as a retirement present someday.”

Levi couldn't tell whether Hange was joking or not.

“The good news is, we've got plenty of forensics so it looks like we'll be able to track down a few of your attackers. DNA, ballistics. Ha. I've never worked on a job that's been fast-tracked through the labs before, it's exhilarating. With a bit of luck, I'll have it all wrapped up before you get back to work.”

“I sincerely hope that's the case,” Levi said. “Good luck. Be careful.”

“Same to you, boss.”

It wasn't very late, but Levi got ready for bed anyway, and debated whether or not to take more painkillers. He decided to lie down for a bit and see how he felt. He felt miserable. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep and so he just lay on top of the covers. The blank white ceiling was a perfect backdrop on which his mind projected the events of that morning; the crunch of crumpling aluminium, the screech of tyres, the smell of the car's innards. It was impossible not to relive it. The impact of the bullet, the bike wobbling underneath him, Eren's inhuman howls.

He'd seen so much of his own blood today.

He took deep breaths. He was safe now. He'd survived. He was going to be okay. Well, he tried hard to convince himself of the latter, anyway. And round and round it went.

He realised he'd drifted off into nightmares when his phone vibrated briefly on the bedside table, and jolted him from his unhappy doze. Probably a good thing; his feet were freezing and the rest of him wasn't much better. Erwin wasn't joking about this house being draughty.

He reached over and picked up his phone. He must have dozed longer than he thought; it was relatively late.

r u awake?

Yes.

He didn't see a reason to lie, although he regretted replying when he heard a soft knock on the door thirty seconds later. He sat up, cold and stiff and sore, and sighed heavily before going to answer it.

Eren was dressed for bed, in a tshirt and shorts, the latter of which Levi could see were already starting to tighten in anticipation. His dick was delighted, the rest of him wondered how he ended up in this situation.

“Hi,” Eren said. He had one hand held behind his back, Levi noticed.

“Go to sleep, Eren. I'm tired.” Levi said, and started to close the door.

“Wait, please.” Eren caught it.

Chapter Text

“What is it?” Levi asked.

“Why did you tell Erwin about us? I'm really happy that you did, but was a bit of a surprise.”

It wasn't the question Levi had been expecting, and it was asked with a serious expression so Levi supposed that wasn't the sort of conversation to have in the hallway, as quiet as the house was. He stood aside as Eren darted into his room, still with one hand behind his back.

“Because he would have found out anyway,” Levi said honestly. “Erwin knows me better than anyone else, and you're practically an open book. So I decided it was easier than having him drag it out of us.”

“Oh,” Eren said. “He seemed, well, okay with everything. I mean, he's offered to help find my dad and he's given us a place to stay.”

“Erwin is not a bad person,” Levi said. “But he often does things for more than one reason. Why did you tell Armin?” He hadn't planned on asking Eren about it, but since he was here he might as well find out.

“Oh that. I had to tell him when I asked him to pack me some things.” Eren grinned. “He got us some supplies, so I kind of had to explain why.” He finally revealed what he'd been holding behind his back, and Levi wasn't exactly surprised to discover it was an unopened packet of condoms and a bottle of lube.

Levi sighed, and felt the stitches on his back pull slightly as his chest expanded.

“I'm um, not really smooth, I know,” Eren said, shrugging awkwardly. “But, you know, coming to this place, it's like a holiday.” He must have read Levi's unenthusiastic expression and he stepped forward into his personal space. “We don't have to do that tonight though. It's been a long day.” He bit his lip. “Levi,” he tilted his head down, his eyes starting to close as he leaned forward. “I just want...”

Levi wanted too. He wanted to forget the disasters that had happened today. He was cold and tired and probably, he'd admit it to himself if no one else, somewhat traumatised. He'd never had anyone make such a concerted attempt to kill him before, and it was an illusion he'd been completely unprepared to be shattered.

Eren was warm and comforting and he really had to put a stop to this. He stepped back before Eren managed to kiss him again and Eren opened his eyes. He took a deep breath and braced himself for what he had to do next, because this was getting out of hand.

“Will you cut out this 'boyfriend' bullshit?” Levi snapped. “We are not on some fucking honeymoon.” He gestured between them, “What do you think this is? Where do you think this is going? In everything but an official capacity you are in my custody. It will be a lot less painful for you if you'd just apply some common fucking sense to the situation. I don't really enjoy the idea of breaking your heart, you know?”

Eren's face fell as he stared at him. Levi could feel his nerve start to crack; he never wanted to see that expression on Eren's face, especially when he was the cause.

But Eren didn't give him a chance to relent.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” Levi was startled by his raised voice, and he was glad Erwin didn't sleep in the guest wing when he visited the house. “Do you think I don't know all of that? You've made it clear from day one that you do what you think is right.”

“Not always,” Levi muttered.

“Everyone thinks with their dick sometimes,” Eren said with a sad little smile that didn't come anywhere near his blazing eyes. “I know you think this is all a huge mistake. But I don't. I'm not completely blinded by lust, you know. I'm an adult and I made the decision to do what we did earlier. With you. I wanted it. And I still want you. And maybe this will be the most short-lived relationship in history, but I still want it. It's the only thing I'm not scared of right now.” He waved his arms, like he always did when he got riled up, Levi noticed.

Levi didn't say anything.

“I'm scared of going to prison, I'm scared of you getting hurt more than you already are, or dying. I'm scared of the Titans finding out who I am and going after Mikasa and Armin. I'm scared of dying. I'm scared of myself-” He choked himself off and then made the visible effort to continue. “When I saw you lying there on the ground next to the bike, I didn't care, you know? I just decided I should help you up, but I didn't feel anything for you. And when you pointed your gun at me, I didn't care about that either, really, I'd just decided to help you and I did and if you'd shot me I still wouldn't have cared.

“You give me hope. Maybe we can take on the Titans, and if we do that, and if I find who killed my mom, and I kill them, I'd be okay with whatever came next. I guess. I not going to put up a fight if you want to take me in. I told you I'd confess and I meant it.” He bowed his head for a moment before looking up again. “But I don't want to go to jail some stupid fucking virgin.”

They stared at each other in startled unhappy silence for a few moments and then Eren took a deep breath, “I'm done. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot. I should let you sleep, Levi.”

He turned to go but he halted when Levi spoke, “Is that really what you've decided? To give up your freedom in exchange for killing your mother's murderer? Is it worth it?”

Eren looked at him with a strangely affectionate expression, “You really go straight to the hard questions, don't you?”

“I'm a detective.” And he was not going to touch the virgin comment with a ten foot pole; that was the worst reason he'd ever heard for having sex and he wanted no part of such a joyless arrangement, even though he understood the wretched logic behind it.

Eren looked down sadly. “It is worth it. So many other people have died. I can't just stop now. This is why did all of this in the first place. She deserves justice; surely you understand that.”

“Eren. The murder's life is not worth yours. I'm trying to give you another chance. I don't want to see you end up in there; I know what prison does to people.” He could guess what it would do to Eren. As strong and foolhardy as he was, it would break him if not kill him.

“I know you are, and it means a lot to me. You don't have to say anything; I know you care. Goodnight, Levi.”

“Wait.” He even reached out and took hold of Eren's wrist. He really didn't want to be alone in this room with the blank ceiling again, and he had the feeling Eren would be just as miserable by himself tonight. “Get into bed,” he said. “I'm going to take a leak.” He let go of Eren's wrist. “If you want to.” He didn't wait around for an answer; it was enough to extend the invitation.

When he returned, a few minutes and a couple of painkillers later, Eren was already under the covers. He pulled them back when Levi approached, his arms reaching for him.

“Can you just wait a few moments?” Levi asked, gently pushing his hands aside. “I need to get comfortable.”

“You're in pain, aren't you?” Eren asked as Levi turned out the lamp.

“I was in two road accidents and I was shot this morning. Of course I'm in pain.”

“Well you don't show it! Shit. You're too stoic. Levi, I'm sorry.” Eren huffed in irritation and shuffled back to give him more space as he worked out which side to lie on. He ended up with his back to Eren, so there wasn't any weight on his stitches. “I was being selfish. I didn't even think about how you might be feeling after what you went through today. God, I don't know why you put up with me. Levi, are you okay?”

Levi thought about it. “Right now? Here? I think I will be.”

Eren kept his distance, clearly worried about hurting him if he came to close. Levi reached around behind him, and felt about until he found one of Eren's hands. He pulled it over him, and Eren laced his fingers through his own as Levi tucked his arm around his chest. It was something to concentrate on, something to distract him from the memories replaying in his head, and it was enough for him to fall asleep.

Levi was not used to sharing a bed, but to his surprise he was only woken up when Eren left, slipping out of bed and down the hall towards the bathroom while the grey light of early morning seeped in through a crack in the drapes. He dozed off again for a few minutes and blinked his eyes open when he realised Eren hadn't come back. He raised his head to see the young man at the window, staring out through a crack in the curtains.

“Eren?” he mumbled thickly.

“What is he doing?” Eren asked.

Levi thought about this vague question and hazarded a guess as to the answer, “Tai chi.”

“Oh.” It must have been the right response because that seemed to break the spell and Eren hurried back to bed and practically leaped into it. “Cold cold cold,” he said, huddling down under the blankets.

Levi found himself smiling and he rolled over, rediscovering all the sore bits as he did so, and wrapped his arms around Eren, soaking up the morning chill from his skin and clothes. Eren snuggled down against him, and Levi could feel him smile against his shoulder.

“How did you and Erwin meet?” he asked.

“I tried to mug him,” Levi replied, still half asleep.

“I see.” Eren snaked his arms around Levi's torso, carefully, still mindful of his injuries. He smelled like he'd brushed his teeth.

Levi found himself waking up as Eren warmed up. This, God, he wanted to get used to this. To wake up tangled in Eren's long, lean limbs, with his breath warm against his chest. He pressed his lips to Eren's forehead almost without thinking about it, and moments later Eren tilted his head up and kissed his mouth, carefully, chastely. The smell of mint intensified.

“Mm, I should brush my teeth too,” Levi mumbled, keeping his lips together.

“It's fine, I don't mind.” Eren was starting to uncurl from his huddle, and Levi felt him drape a leg over his hip.

“It's gonna bug me,” Levi said. “Sorry.” He disentangled himself as Eren sighed. “What?”

“It was just getting good,” Eren stuck his lower lip out. “If you go away you might not be in the mood when you get back.”

Levi looked at him, all bright eyes and bedhead and stubble and shook his head. “It's too early for your disarming honesty.”

“What does that mean?”

Levi got out of bed and glanced back at Eren from the doorway. “It's cold out here. I'll need warming up when I get back.”

Eren's delighted chuckle kept him warm halfway down the hall.

In the cold light of morning, it seemed completely crazy that he’d turned down Eren’s offer the night before. He’d spent the night with Eren’s warmth seeping into his bones and Eren’s breathing lulling him and he’d woken up with the pleasant sort of pain occasioned by the sort of erection that probably would have made a mess if he hadn’t woken up.

By the time he’d rather shiveringly made his way to the bathroom it was gone, but he knew it wouldn’t take much for it to return; anticipation made his heart and footsteps quicken slightly on the return trip to his room.

When he returned, Eren's clothes were lying on the floor near the bed, and the man himself was wearing a devilish expression, his eyes gleaming as he lay in wait under the covers like a cat preparing to pounce.

Levi raised an eyebrow and pulled his shirt off over his head, and Eren's expression changed from one of anticipation to sympathy. Levi caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and he could see why. What wasn't bruised was scraped or hidden under a bandage.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Eren asked.

“I'm not going to suggest anything too strenuous, if that's what you mean,” Levi said. “It's not so bad. Half of these bruises are older than yesterday.” He crawled into bed. “Unless it's put you off.”

“Hell no,” Eren grinned. He was half-hard already; Levi could feel his dick tapping against his leg as he wrapped his arms and legs around Levi, warming him up again as promised with his naked body. “I don't want to see you in pain,” Eren said. “But even like this you're so fucking hot. I never knew I had a kink for brawlers. It's crazy.” His breath came in short, heated puffs against Levi's skin as he wiggled down to kiss his shoulders and chest.

Levi let him do as he wished. Even when he pressed a bruise hard enough to make it hurt, Levi gave no sign of it; he didn’t want Eren to stop lavishing attention on him. Maybe he had a kink for Eren’s kink for brawlers.

Eren got as far as Levi’s stomach before he ran out of air and  scooted back up again. Levi kissed him as soon as his warm, open mouth was in reach. Eren kissed him back, slowly. They'd always devoured each other, consumed and burned for each other, but Levi wanted to taste him, let him breathe. Levi had the time to appreciate him now. It was getting too hot under the covers and he started to peel them back, starting with Eren's neck and shoulders. He could see the faint tan line on his collarbone.

Eren laughed when Levi found a spot that tickled, and gasped and dug his fingers in slightly when Levi found a spot that aroused, and there seemed to be plenty of both and by the time the blankets were pushed down around their hips they were both grinning and gasping.

Eren stuck his hands down Levi’s pants and worked his way around his cock, gently squeezing his balls and running his fingers through the coarse wiry hair.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked, admiring the faint red mark he’d left on Eren’s chest.

“Saving the best for last,” Eren replied. So saying, he wrapped warm, strong, slightly calloused fingers around the base of Levi's cock and Levi closed his eyes and sighed loudly as he stroked him slowly and firmly, squeezing the head, coating his fingers. When he opened his eyes again, Eren was looking at him with a little smile. “You didn’t even let me get a good look at it last time,” he said, slightly reproachful.

“I was in too much of a hurry to get your arse in the air,” Levi said slyly. “And I didn’t hear any objections. Heard a lot of other things, mind.”

Eren coloured at that. “Yeah, well. Whatever,” he mumbled. Levi still couldn’t get over how he could go from bold to bashful in a split second, but each time he did he found it endearing. Something in his expression must have given him away because Eren grinned at him and rolled him onto his back before straddling his hips. Levi pushed the blankets down with his feet. It was too warm for them now anyway, the morning sun was slanting in through the window and they were generating more than enough heat themselves.

Eren sat over Levi’s cock, his weight pressing it up against his stomach as he rolled his hips thoughtfully. Levi really wished he’d taken off his pants; he could feel the curve of Eren’s arse through the material, the warm weight of his balls and every flex of his thigh muscles around his hips.

They watched each other, smiling and dishevelled and unshaven. Teasing. Eren rested his hands on Levi’s stomach, and he flexed his muscles under his fingers, enjoying how impressed Eren looked.

“You’re like a rock,” Eren said, and Levi wasn’t sure exactly what part of him he was referring to.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Levi said. He reached down and tugged on Eren’s cock, and Eren’s mouth fell open in mock surprise when he did so.

“Are you impatient?” he asked, rocking against Levi again. “Want me to go faster?”

“I could do this all day,” Levi said, pillowing his head on one arm, the other hand still lazily and loosely stroking Eren, knowing it was unlikely to be enough, even for someone as young and horny as his partner.

“That would be really nice,” Eren said. Abruptly he leaned forward and cupped Levi’s face in his hands, kissing him and leaving a smear of his own precome on his neck. Levi was planning on having a shower anyway and he didn't object. “I want to do this forever.”

Levi pretended he didn’t hear, that his heart didn’t hurt. He knew Eren meant nothing bad by it, but he’d really rather have not been reminded of what awaited them beyond these shared breaths, what would happen once they ran out of stolen hours.

So he distracted them both by kissing him back fervently, sucking hard on Eren’s lower lip so abruptly the young man made a soft sound and recoiled.

“That hurt,” he said, grinning to let him know it hadn’t hurt that much.

“You deserved it.”

His face fell slightly, and Levi realised he’d hit upon one of Eren’s sore points in turn; he didn’t want to think about what he deserved, after all. Levi wrapped his arms around his shoulders and hugged him, pressing his lips against his cheekbone.

“We’re not very good at this, are we?” Eren asked, his face buried in the pillow next to Levi’s head.

“Not really. It’s only to be expected, though. A brat and a broken old man.” He felt Eren’s arms tighten around him slightly at his words.

“Mm.” Eren lifted his head. “You’ll mend, though.”

“But you’ll still be a brat.”

Eren huffed and rocked his hips again. “A brat that has this effect on an old man.”

“You can take them off, if you like,” Levi said, referring to his pants. Eren looked down between his own legs at the strained and damp clothing.

“Nope. Too much effort.”

He wiggled down slightly, and tugged the waistband down over his hips to free Levi’s cock and balls and promptly sitting on him so it wouldn’t ride up again. Levi breathed hard as Eren’s length pressed against his. This wasn’t terribly comfortable, but he didn’t really care right then.

Eren just stayed like that for a little while, observing him. His gaze lingered on his cock and then made its way up across his bruised chest, and Levi gave him a faint smile when his attention reached his mouth. Eren was so focused, Levi could feel his gaze like a caress.

Eren boldly met his stare as Levi felt him wrap a hand around them both, pressing them together. Levi almost convinced himself he could see Eren’s pupils expand when he did so.

Eren started rocking his hips, moving his hand in time. He tilted his head back, his eyelids lowering, but he never took his eyes off Levi’s face. He wasn't as noisy this time, restricting himself to making little sounds in the back of his throat. Levi caressed everything he could reach, Eren's stomach and legs, but he let Eren set the pace and do as he pleased. He felt lazy, and Eren seemed more than happy with the arrangement.

Eren started to speed up, his legs squeezing Levi's hips every time he moved, and Levi realised his mouth was hanging open as he watched Eren bring himself to orgasm. He dug the fingers of his free hand into Levi's ribs and splattered him from sternum to collarbone with warm come.

When he opened his eyes he smiled like he couldn't help it and Levi watched as he licked his lips and swallowed. When he started moving again Levi wrapped his fingers around Eren's hand, and showed him what pace to set and what he liked, and it didn't take much of that to tip him over the edge and Eren watched, fascinated. Levi forced himself to keep his eyes open as he came, to meet Eren's gaze as he lost control and in doing so he managed to make Eren flush self-consciously, despite the fact that he wasn't the one gasping and shuddering helplessly.

Eren flopped forward and Levi fended him off before he landed in the mess on his chest and they lay there recovering for a few minutes, Eren on his side.

“Are you really a virgin?” Levi asked. He just seemed so relaxed in bed, he found it hard to believe.

“Um, by about this much,” Eren said, holding his thumb and forefinger apart.

Levi chuckled, “What does that mean?”

“I've never had a cock up my arse. But I've tried other things.”

“I see. How adventurous of you.”

Eren shrugged, “I was just a horny teenager.”

“You still are,” Levi pointed out.

Eren chuckled and edged closer. “I bet you're not complaining.” He sighed, “We should get up, shouldn't we?”

“Yeah.”

By the time they'd showered and Levi had changed his bandages, the day had well and truly begun. Erwin had left long ago for work, and Annika cooked them breakfast. They were fussed over equally; Eren didn't have to pretend to be a dutiful son, it was sort of written all over him.

Levi called Pixis and sorted out his sick leave and then went for a walk around the grounds, stretching and loosening up, and trying to get back into form as soon as possible. Eren installed himself on the patio and studied, or played with his phone.

Levi was bored and with nothing better to do he offered to help Eren revise, this time promising he'd stay awake. So when Erwin came home from work that evening they were both in the library, Eren stretched out on the couch with his feet in Levi's lap as Levi haltingly felt his way though the names of complex organic compounds as he quizzed him.

“Good evening!” Erwin strode in, and put his laptop case on the table with a pleased expression. “I've found Grisha Jaeger.”

“That was quick,” Levi said, refusing to give him his dramatic moment and continuing to look at the printed page of questions.

Eren was not so cool, however. He scrambled to his feet, as if he expected his father to stroll into the room in Erwin's wake.

“Where is he? Is he okay?”

“He's fine. He's in Hawaii.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “What's he doing there?”

Erwin smiled, now he finally had their attention. “Federal Witness Protection Program.”

Chapter Text

Eren was rendered speechless for a few moments.

“You’re good,” he told Erwin when he found his voice again.

“Why thank you, Eren.” Erwin went to the sideboard to pour himself a drink, and Levi shook his head at his silent offer.

“So does this do us any good?” Levi asked. “Can we talk to him?”

“I’m pulling strings as we speak,” Erwin replied. “But a great deal depends on whether or not Mister Jaeger wants to talk to us.”

“He’s alive.” Eren took a deep, shuddering breath. “He’s okay. But why didn’t he say something to us? He just left and moved to Hawaii; I can't believe it.”

“The point of the Witness Protection Program is not to let people know you’re in it,” Levi said.

“I’m not just people, I’m his son,” Eren said with a reproachful look. He flopped back down on the couch, his studying forgotten. He looked lost and confused, but Levi couldn’t think of anything to say that might help. “He has to talk to us, he has to.”

“We’ll find out in a day or two,” Erwin said. “Which will give Levi a bit of time to recover, although I must say you’re looking much better.”

“Mm.” Levi was only listening with half an ear. He was thinking.

Dinner was eaten in much the same atmosphere as it had been the day before, only it was Eren’s turn to stare silently at his plate and push his food around.

Erwin brought Levi up to date on the ongoing investigation as best he could. Bossard’s agitation had at least caused the Commissioner to give lip service to the idea that something needed to be done about the Titans.

“Which is good news for us,” Erwin said. “Because when you do take them down a few notches, everyone’s going to want to be our friend.”

“I don’t want the Commissioner to be my friend,” Levi said. “Reiss is just another suit, as far as I’m concerned. Besides, aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves a little? So far all we’ve done is get ourselves beaten up.”

“I have faith,” Erwin said, spearing a piece of potato with his fork.

“I’m running out of cigarettes,” Levi said, deciding a change of subject would probably be more productive than arguing with Erwin about it.

“You should quit,” Eren said, joining in at last.

Erwin shook his head, “Your heart may be in the right place, Eren, I wouldn’t advise trying to get him to quit while you’re stuck in a house with him.”

“At last, a sensible opinion,” Levi said. “Smoking isn't exactly the biggest threat to my health right now anyway.”

“Fine, I’ll get you some more when I go to my exam.”

“Is that tomorrow?” Levi asked.

“Yeah. I’ll be careful, and come straight back, I promise. I’m not going to run away now, not when I have a chance to talk to Dad again.”

They stayed up late, Eren studying and Levi and Erwin talking shop, which was pretty much all they ever did when they got together. When they finally decided to go to bed, Eren carried his bag into Levi’s room, and Levi didn’t say anything about it either way.

He woke up with Eren’s knee digging into his side, and Eren's breath hot on his neck, but they didn’t sleep in. Eren bolted his breakfast and took off on his bike to his exam, leaving Levi to rattle around the Smith estate on his own for a few hours.

He spent them testing the limits of his battered but healing body, and thinking. No matter what Grisha had to say for himself, he had to start making plans. He called Hange and asked for an update.

“I have an assistant!” they said excitedly. “His name is Moblit and he’s pretty useless right now, but I have high hopes about training him properly. He's on loan from uniform but if I ask nicely I might get to keep him.”

“Can he hear you talking about him like an untrained puppy?” Levi asked, smiling despite himself. He hated to be out of the loop and away from work for too long.

“Probably. He doesn’t mind though. Do you?” Hange’s voice faded slightly as they turned to ask the long-suffering Moblit. “He says he doesn’t. Anyway, good news. I think we can be making some arrests soon; obviously there won’t be any big fish in our haul, but we’ll lean on them and explain how unlucky they are and they might tell us something.”

“Hm.” Levi frowned. “Frankly, I rather hope they don’t.”

“Why not? Even the Commissioner’s behind this; this could be our chance to really give the Titans a black eye.”

“Yeah, on the other hand it might just lose us a chance to rip their head off.” Levi frowned, “Hange, can you do me a favour? Bring them in, by all means, the more the merrier, but don’t push them too hard for now.”

“Boss, you know you can’t work this case, even if you come back.”

“I know, I know. That’s fine. But can you do this much? Give me until the end of the week.”

“This isn’t really like you, Levi,” Hange muttered. “I’ll do it. It shouldn’t be too hard, but those guys are going to be out on bail fast if they can raise the cash.”

“I know. And Hange, just be ready. I don’t exactly know for what, but I might need your backup. And any other backup you can find. How handy is that Moblit in a fight?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I could punch him and see.”

“No, better not. I suspect he’s suffered enough,” Levi said.

“He’s looking forward to meeting you. He probably thinks you’ll be an improvement.” Hange laughed. “Okay, I gotta go. I’m working harder than I have in years.”

“Don’t strain anything, Hange.”

“Keep in touch, boss.”

Levi was somewhat reassured by the fact that Hange seemed to have everything under control. That left him with nothing to do but try and get better, and wait to see what resulted from Erwin’s string-pulling. Which was why, when Eren came back to the estate, he found Levi and Annika in the kitchen, swapping recipes, and generally making a mess. Not that he complained; he got to sample the results.

When Erwin returned that night, proclaiming that he was really starting to miss his inner-city apartment, he had news from Grisha.

“He’s agreed to talk to Eren via video-link. We’ve scheduled it for tomorrow; we can use one of the conference rooms in my office.”

“I want to be there,” Levi said.

“I don’t mind,” Eren said. “You might think of something I forget. Although, maybe we shouldn’t tell Grisha you’re there.”

“Are you sure?” Erwin asked.

“I don’t think he’ll say much if he knows a policeman’s listening in.”

“You’re deceiving him,” Levi said.

“He deceived me!” Eren said, suddenly animated. “And Mikasa. I’ve been trying really, really hard not to get angry at him but it’s like he abandoned us. Abandoned me with this...this thing that I am, and I’m just supposed to deal with it on my own. I always thought he cared, in his own way, but now I dunno.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gonna wait and see what he says.”

He was trying hard to grow up, Levi could see that. He wondered if it would be enough.

That night Eren sat on the edge of the bed and stared at his toes. Levi knew he had something to say, but didn't push him.

“Can I tell Dad about you?” he asked eventually.

“Tell him what about me?” Levi asked cautiously.

“That you exist. That you're my boyfriend. I know it's a little abrupt for the whole meet the parents thing, but I might never seen him again. This could be my only chance and.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Whatever happens to me later, I want him to know I'm happy now. And gay,” he added, with a laugh that was trying not to be a sob. “That doesn't feel like such a big deal any more.”

“Yeah,” Levi said.

“What?”

“You can tell him.” He didn't see the harm. He opened his arms and Eren crawled into them, curling up close as Levi stroked his hair.

“Thank you.”

When the gates to the Smith estate closed behind Erwin's BMW the next morning, Levi felt like he'd just got out of prison. He didn't share that particular thought out loud, since Eren was in the back seat, but he sighed with relief to see that the outside world was still there and much as he remembered it.

Eren had been quiet and nervous all morning, and Levi had left him to it. It wasn't his place to mediate the fraught relationship between father and son, and he'd have had no idea how to do so even if it was. Eren had asked him about his own family, but hadn't pressed further when Levi told him he'd never known them.

Erwin filled his car with Mozart, and Levi watched the traffic as they made their way into the city.

They were given a room and Eren sat at the head of the conference table, fidgeting nervously as they waited. Levi sat off to one side, where Eren could see him but Grisha wouldn't be able to. He had a notebook open and he had his own monitor so he could see the video feed as well.

Eren visibly jumped when the screen came to life.

Levi recognised Grisha, even with longer hair, a bad case of sunburn and an even worse case of Hawaiian shirt.

“Dad,” Eren said. “Can you hear me?”

“Hello, kid.”

Awkward silence.

“Dad, what are you doing in Hawaii?” Eren asked.

“You know why I'm here. I can't talk about specifics, Eren, but I'm doing what's right, for you and Mikasa.”

“You disappeared without a word!” he objected. “You're the only parent I've got left.”

Levi could see Grisha wince and bow his head. “Eren, I know this is hard. I didn't do this on a whim. It's something I've been thinking about a long time. I made sure that you and Mikasa were standing on your own feet before I did this. What I did, and what I'm doing to atone for my actions won't affect your lives now. You'll be better off with me and my mistakes hanging over your heads.”

“It's too fucking late for that, Dad!” Eren said. “You know, don't you? That I'm some sort of monster-”

Grisha looked up sharply. “What do you mean, Eren? Talk to me.” Eren didn't say a word, but Grisha seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, because he slumped in his chair. “You noticed, huh?”

Eren folded his arms, “Was I born like this?”

“No,” Grisha said eventually. “You had cancer.”

“What?”

“You were three. I didn't want to worry your mother at first because I wasn't sure and then the secret became too big to tell. I was a doctor and your mother trusted me when I gave excuses. Explanations. It was terminal, but Carla would never have given up hope, and you would have suffered a great deal if I'd done the 'correct' thing.”

“What did you do instead?” Eren asked softly.

“I cured you. Apparently. I was frantic; my methods were sloppy and I was fuelled by hope rather than logic. And you lived. But you were never quite the same again. I'd hoped the effects would fade over the years.”

“We'll they didn't,” Eren said.

“No. I couldn't replicate my results and I must confess I feel rather relieved that I couldn't in the end.”

Levi had been silently taking notes, but now he held up his notebook, the word Mikasa printed in letters large enough for Eren to read.

“When we found Mikasa-” Eren began.

“I used you,” Grisha said. “I used you because I'd heard the Titans had collected a nine year old girl as repayment for a debt. They wanted me to give her a check-up. I couldn't rescue her myself, so I nicked your finger with a pocketknife and sent you in alone. I had no other choice. And.” He had the grace to look guilty, “I wanted to see what you would do, what you were capable of.”

“I could have been killed. I nearly was!”

“I know. And I vowed never to do that to you again, no matter what happened. I'm a coward, Eren. And I paid the price. I couldn't hide what I'd done either; Mikasa lived with us after all. I'd hoped we'd find her family first, but even the police had no luck. I had a year.” Grisha's eyes shone with tears. “I had a year to think maybe I'd gotten away with it. That maybe they'd overlook one indiscretion in years of service.”

“Mom,” Eren said quietly. “They killed her to punish you for taking Mikasa.”

“I had to pretend, for your sake, that things would continue as before, until you were adults. Even though they killed her, I still took their money and bandaged their wounds. Nine years.”

Eren slumped in his chair, “You could have said something.”

“And what would you have done?” Grisha asked. “I know you, Eren; you're my son. To tell you the truth would have just made things worse. You would have done something you'd regret.”

Levi thought he had a point.

“It frightened me what you were capable of, but it seemed like you didn't really understand what you'd done. I'd hoped you'd never learn.”

“Well I did,” Eren said.

“So it seems. What would you have had me do? Let you die? Let Mikasa die? I did think these things through.”

Levi was writing again: Who murdered Carla?

“Who did it?” Eren asked. “Who killed Mom?”

Grisha shook his head, “No, Eren. Leave it to me, this time. I'll handle this the right way. You just concentrate on your studies. It's what she would have wanted, trust me.”

Eren glanced at Levi, looking for direction.

“What do you keep looking at?” Grisha asked sharply. “Is someone else there? This is a private conversation.”

“Um,” Eren said, looking guilty.

“Show yourself,” Grisha demanded. “Or I'm ending this call.”

Levi got up and walked around to Eren's chair, where Grisha could see him.

“I'm-”

“My boyfriend,” Eren said fiercely, gripping Levi's hand. “His name's Levi.”

“I.” Levi sighed. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Hello, Mister Jaeger.”

They stared at each other for a few moments. Levi realised he'd rather have been facing a whole room full of Titans, or even a press conference, than this. Grisha didn't look too impressed either.

“Is this a rebellious phase?” he asked Eren, clearly having a bit of trouble believing these new developments were real.

“Dad!”

“Who is responsible for the death of your wife?” Levi asked.

“Why do you want to know? Wait, you seem familiar.”

Levi took out his badge. “Detective Corporal Levi, Southport Police. This is not an official interview, Mister Jaeger, but I would appreciate an honest answer.”

“So are you dating Eren or not?”

“Yes, but that's really beside the point.” He glanced down at Eren and did a double-take when he saw he was practically glowing with joy at Levi's answer.

“It really is a rebellious phase,” Grisha muttered. “This isn't within your jurisdiction, Detective.”

Levi flicked his gaze to the camera, but there really wasn't any way to stare someone down over video-link.

“Dad, I think I'm in trouble,” Eren said. “Please just tell us. Levi's trying to help.”

“I don't know. It was ten years ago, Eren. I'll put things right as best I can, but don't let his hang over you. Go forward, graduate. Be happy. Stay away from all of this; it'll consume your life and the lives of those you care about. I'm sorry it has to end like this, but know I'm proud of you. And don't date policemen; it can't possibly end well.”

Levi thought he was lying, about the first part at least, but he didn't say anything as Grisha closed the connection.

Eren stared at the blank screen and let go of Levi's hand.

Grisha had managed to shake the foundations of Eren's childhood, but he hadn't told them anything that was useful from Levi's perspective.

“Can you leave me alone for a while?” Eren said. “I need to think about some things.”

“Yeah. Take your time.”

Something in his voice made Eren look up, “Where are you going?”

“To work,” Levi said. Grisha had abdicated responsibility for Eren's fate, and Levi supposed it was up to him now.

“Boss! This is unexpected.” Hange stood up when he walked in. “Rare to see you in casual clothes; the jeans look good-”

“I'm not here officially,” Levi said, sitting at his desk.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked.

“Fine. How's the case going?”

“Good. You'll need to give a statement at some point.”

“Yeah, sometime.” Levi honestly had lost interest. He logged in to his computer and started browsing the database for information that was eleven years old. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for, but Mikasa was the start of it, not Carla. Grisha rescued her, and it hadn't escaped Levi's attention that it was the Titans responsible for her kidnapping in the first place, and they would have been responsible for Carla's death as well.

Father Nick didn't start climbing the ranks until a few years later, and a great many of the Titans that were active at the time were now either deceased or behind bars. It wasn't easy to tell who'd been in charge back then although Levi was sure the leadership of the gang hand changed hands at least once since. Father Nick had been expecting trouble, Eren had said, but whatever sort of trouble it was it had to be internal; the gangs had carved Southport up to their satisfaction and there hadn't been a war for a while.

Hange introduced Levi to Moblit and then they went out somewhere. Levi kept his head down and worked. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew it when he found it.

He leaned back in his chair and reread more carefully the report he'd been reading. It was the result of an undercover operation; in the end they hadn't made many arrests, but they'd rescued several young women who'd been smuggled into the country and had probably been destined for a life of coerced prostitution. It wasn't them that interested Levi, it was a throwaway line, one of many names mentioned to the undercover cop and carefully written down and apparently never heard of again.

But Levi had heard that name before. A young girl who'd been kidnapped had just heard it somewhere.

Ackerman.

Levi called Eren.

He asked him if he wanted some lunch, and Eren tonelessly agreed. They met in the cafe just downstairs from Erwin's office. Eren stared blankly at the menu until Levi prompted him to pick something, anything.

“I don't know what I expected,” Eren said when he'd asked for the special and the server had gone. “Maybe that he'd be sorry? Sorrier, anyway. But if he had his time over again, he'd do the exact same things, wouldn't he?”

“Wouldn't you?” Levi asked pointedly.

Eren hunched down in his chair. “I don't know,” he muttered.

He brightened up a bit when the food arrived, and he lifted his head and smiled over his burger at Levi. “At least I got to tell him about you. Sort of. Although, he didn't look too happy about it but I guess that's what I expected. Thank you, Levi.”

“It's fine.”

“You said I was your boyfriend. To someone else even. To my dad. I didn't expect you'd do that.”

Levi shrugged and concentrated on his food. Part of him was glad he'd probably never have to see Grisha again.

“What do we do now?” Eren asked, when they'd finished eating. “I feel kind of bad living in Erwin's house and I'm missing a lot of class.”

“Yeah. We found Grisha and he wasn't as helpful as we'd hoped, so it's up to us now.”

“Take down the Titans,” Eren said, his eyes lighting up. “Are you really going to do it? And let me help?”

“Eren, there's no possible way I'd be able to do this alone. But you have to do as I tell you. If I can trust you to do that-”

“You can! Even if I'm not myself, I've made the decision to follow you. To hell, if I have to.”

Levi looked into his eyes. “Are you ready?” he said softly.

“Now?”

“I have a name I'd like to try and track down. We get a lift back to Erwin's house, and we get your bike, and we go and turn over a few logs and see what's hiding underneath. Because your father's heart may be in the right place, but his information is going to be used with caution and the Feds won't be that interested in the Titans; your father had contact with bigger fish than them.”

“Then I'm ready,” Eren said. “More than ready. These last few days have been really nice. I'm grateful I got to spend this time with you. It feels like a dream. But dreams have to end, don't they?”

“Come on,” Levi said. “It's time to go.”

Chapter Text

Mike was waiting at his usual spot by the railing that overlooked the harbour. Levi hadn't had an easy time getting him to agree to show up, and it had taken a combination of threats and bribery that in the end he wasn't sure would work until he saw the familiar figure staring out over the water.

He turned when Eren approached on his bike, riding right up over the curb and stopping only a few feet away. They'd visited at Erwin's house long enough for Levi to change into a suit and load his gun. If he was going to meet his fate, he was doing to do so neatly dressed.

“Hello Mike,” Levi said as he dismounted and took off his helmet. “I don't think I have time to buy you coffee today.”

Mike was frowning at Eren, and his frown became a look of utter surprise when Eren took his helmet off and Mike recognised him.

“Holy shit.”

Levi was privately rather pleased that Mike's nose hadn't forewarned him of this.

“I need to know some things about the Titans, Mike.”

Mike was looking from Levi to Eren and back again. He shook his head, “This- I don't want to be involved with this. Whatever it is.”

“Bit late for that. You've taken money from both of us, after all. It was nice of you to mention that, by the way.”

“Hey, it's the rules of the trade; clients don't know about each other,” Mike said, holding his hands up. “And the other rule is; it's a seller's market, and I don't feel like selling today.”

“Mike.” He'd gone to walk away and Levi had stepped in front of him. Eren was under orders to keep his mouth shut, and he was obeying them with a watchful expression. Mike halted, looking down at Levi warily. “I'm sure you know trouble is coming. Consult your nose and consider for who.”

Mike took a deep breath, although it was hard to tell if he was following Levi's suggestion or just buying a bit of time to think.

“What do you want to know?”

“Who's Ackerman?” Levi watched a flicker of something cross Mike's face. “Ah, that name's familiar to you. Good.”

“He's a Titan.”

“He doesn't have a record,” Levi said flatly.

“He's always been lucky, I guess.” Mike seemed more uncomfortable than usual, even given the circumstances.

“Mike do I have to drag everything out of you? What do you know about him?”

“Are you really going after him? Both of you?”

Levi shifted his jaw and didn't answer. Eventually, Mike did.

“He's been part of the scene for years.”

“More than a decade?”

Mike nodded. “More than two.”

“How old is he?”

“In his fifties I guess. Yeah. He's been at it longer than I have even. When Giovanni was sent down for tax evasion about five years ago, he kinda kept running things from jail, you know?”

Levi nodded.

“So the Titans didn't really have a leader on the outside. Father Nick and Ackerman were lieutenants; they carved up the work between them. Pretty much what they'd always been doing. Nick handled the drugs and the racketeering, and Ackerman ran the whorehouses and the people smuggling. When Giovanni died before he was let out, before he'd nominated a successor, everyone thought they'd fight it out. But they didn't. They worked things out peacefully and just kept going like they always had.”

“Until recently,” Levi said. “Ackerman was who Father Nick was expecting that night. That's why he was playing so hard to find. The agreement had broken down.”

Mike shrugged. “You have a better idea than I.”

“So Ackerman's running the Titans?”

“As much as everyone is right now. That hit they put out on you did not come from Ackerman. Some young punk got pissed off from what I hear. It's been called off, but I guess you ain't bothered either way.”

Levi could guess who the young punk might have been.

“So this guy runs the Titans and yet I've never heard of him,” Levi said.

Mike shrugged. “Well, you never asked.”

“Mm. I suppose I didn't. So where's Ackerman now?”

“I don't know.”

“Bullshit you don't.” Levi moved fast. Before Mike could react he'd snatched his phone from the pocket of his jacket; where Levi had always observed him carrying it.

“Hey!”

“You set him up,” Levi said.

“He paid for the info and-”

“Not Eren,” Levi said. “Father Nick. You know everything, Mike. At least, that's what you claim. You know that men like Father Nick and Ackerman do not outsource their dirty work. You knew Grisha; you had to know what happened to his wife. And yet.” Levi stepped closer, Mike's blocky little Nokia still gripped in his hand. “You pointed Eren at the wrong one.”

Levi heard Eren inhale sharply and he could only hope he'd continue to keep his mouth shut while Levi focused on Mike.

“It seems when it comes to who has control over the Titans you're not an entirely disinterested party. Now, you didn't tell Ackerman who Eren was and for that I am willing to let all of this go.” He looked down at the phone. “You must have a contact number.” Levi thumbed at the device and frowned when he realised all of Mike's contacts were anonymous code numbers.

Mike folded his arms, carefully not looking at Eren.

“Can you get him for me?” Levi asked.

“No. He calls me,” Mike said.

“Okay, tell us who would know.”

“Someone in the central city hideout would know,” Mike said. “I mean, he hangs out there sometimes, I hear. Maybe you'll get lucky.”

“Thank you, Mike, for not very much. Now, I'd like to believe that you wouldn't call ahead of us and warn him.” Levi drew his arm back and flung Mike's phone out into the harbour. “But I really can't afford to. Sorry. I'll buy you a new one sometime.”

Mike knew better than to pick a fight, and he watched expressionlessly as the dirty water of Southport's harbour swallowed up his contacts. Levi was quite sure he'd have his information backed up somewhere; Mike didn't last this long by being stupid, but he'd have to retrieve his data before he could use it. It bought them some time.

“You take him down,” Mike said slowly. “Cause if you don't, I'm dead as you are.”

“I'll keep it in mind.”

Levi put his helmet back on. He'd keep his word if he survived; Mike would get his money, but Levi wasn't sure things were going to be the same in future. They'd both seen a different side of the other.

Eren was still staring at Mike with a hurt expression. Mike shrugged at him.

“You were dead either way, kid.”

“Come on, Eren,” Levi said, nudging him. Neither of them had time to be disappointed with Mike; people couldn't be trusted, and that was a fact of life Levi had accepted long ago. Snitches especially could only be trusted to look out for themselves in the end.

They rode into the city, Eren dodging around the afternoon traffic in ways that weren't terribly legal. Levi didn't chip him about it; they had to work as a team if they were going to survive this.

And they had to straighten some things out first.

So Levi tapped Eren on the shoulder and indicated he should pull over while they were still a few blocks from their destination. He was calmer than Levi had expected. Focused.

“Well I feel stupid now,” he muttered.

“It's not your world, Eren. You're a trusting person.”

“I got lucky didn't I? I mean, he could have told Ackerman. If I'd been jumped at home or class or whatever I'd be dead. And I didn't even realise until you said it- I should have guessed Mike would know. He knew Dad. But I didn't think. It was so long ago, I just figured I'd have to work it out myself.”

“We know now.”

“Ackerman. An old guy. Okay.” Eren looked Levi in the eye. “I'm going to kill him.”

Levi avoided responding directly. “We can't guarantee he's going to be there. I'm not going to let you instigate a massacre. Do not kill people, understand? If they want to leave, let 'em leave. I'm not going to try and arrest every Titan.”

Eren nodded. “Okay. I understand. As long as Mom is avenged, then yeah.”

Levi looked at him for a long moment, but he didn't challenge him. There was no point in doing so right now.

“I know you put off doing your thing last time you were here because of civilians,” he said. “But this time, I'll be behind you. I want to get the jump on them as hard and fast as we can and that means I'm going to use you as a battering ram. If you want to object, now's the time.”

“No,” Eren said. “You're much better than I am at this. I'm in your hands.” He smiled, “Besides, that sounds kind of fun.”

“Okay.” Levi fished out a packet of cigarettes. He supposed he had time for a last one.

“Levi,” Eren said. “Um. What happens afterwards?”

“If you kill Ackerman, you'll go to jail for it. This might not be orthodox, but I will not suspend the rule of law, in spirit if not in practice. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

Eren frowned and rubbed at a spot of dirt on the helmet in his hands.

“You can back out,” Levi said.

“And then what?”

“I'll go back to work. Ackerman didn't want me dead. I'm sure he doesn't give a fuck about me. Mike said the hit was called off and I doubt they'll try again; not without reason anyway. You will give this up for good, and if you don't I know where to find you.”

“What about us?” Eren asked.

“I don't know.”

“I'm not backing out,” Eren said bleakly. “But you knew that. I know we're in public but can I-?” He'd started leaning forward.

Levi shook his head and covered his backward step by using it to crush out his cigarette, still half-smoked.

“I need to focus, Eren.”

“We never did use those supplies.”

“We don't always get what we want.”

There wasn't anything left to say. Levi was already pulling away, settling a protective shell of indifference over his emotions.

Eren already knew the way in. He'd been there before. He told Levi as much as he knew about the layout of the deceptively smart office building that was their destination before he sank his teeth into his hand. Levi had spotted the cameras in the deserted foyer, and he wasn't really surprised when the doors to the area beyond were locked.

It didn't slow Eren down.

Levi got to see first hand how wood and metal just seemed to break under his hands. When the doors broke, Eren screamed.

Behind the unremarkable facade was something that resembled a posh hotel. This was where the high-paying clients could fuck girls fresh out of the shipping containers, before their slavery left too big a mark on them and their value dwindled. How had we not known about this, Levi wondered, as he stepped in behind Eren, his gun raised. Ackerman was very, very tidy. If nothing else, shutting this place down was something that should have happened a long time ago.

They entered an atrium with an open roof that revealed another two floors above, and Levi stepped back sharply as shots rang out from behind overturned pieces of furniture they'd set up as barricades.

For all the good it would do against Eren.

Eren dodged. Eren ran. Levi saw him shudder as a bullet found its mark in his leg but he only lost half a step before plunging on. Levi's revolver added to the din as he gave covering fire, not intending to hit anyone. A huge mirror behind the bar shattered, knocking bottles of expensive alcohol to the floor. Levi could smell the liquor mixed with the cordite.

Levi didn't miss the resemblance between this place and the first scene he'd observed Eren's handiwork. Now he could see how it he did it. How he lifted chairs and tables with one hand and flung them, how he moved too fast to track with a gun. How he punched and kicked and crushed weapons in his bare hands, before he tossed them aside, screaming. But this time he didn't have his knife, and he didn't kill anyone.

Someone ran at Levi, and he didn't know if he was just trying to leave, but the gun in his hand meant that Levi didn't take chances. He ducked under his arm, grabbed it, twisted until the gun dropped and used his momentum to fling him down the hallway. He rolled away and kept running and Levi let him go.

The Titans were backing up now. Eren had demolished their defences, and they were retreating up the staircase to the second floor. Someone opened fire from a walkway above and Levi silenced them with a well-aimed shot. He had no idea if they were alive or not. He wanted Eren to avoid casualties, but he didn't expect there wouldn't be any. He crouched down behind a huge leather armchair and reloaded.

“Stop!” he bellowed, when his gun was loaded again.

Eren stopped.

“Where's Ackerman?” he asked, standing up out of cover, holding his revolver casually, not pointing it at anyone in particular just yet. “I don't give a fuck about gutter trash like you.”

“We don't know,” a woman said. She was dressed in a neat, slightly provocative suit; probably a receptionist rather than a worker, and Levi had seen Eren tear a Glock out of her hands a few minutes prior.

Levi shrugged. “Okay. Out.” He indicated the door and everyone jumped as Eren screamed; it seemed like he had no control over the noise. After a few moment's indecision, someone's nerve broke, and then the whole lot of them were hurrying for the door under Levi's watchful supervision. If they had any sense they'd leave town, but he wasn't going to hold his breath.

“There has to be someone in charge of this place,” Levi said, although Eren was merely staring blankly at him again. “Second floor, let's go. Break in the doors.”

The gunman on the second floor was dead. Levi crouched down to feel for a pulse while Eren loped on ahead, smashing in doors. It wasn't the first time he'd killed someone and it was unlikely to be the last, but he felt the same sense of dread that always accompanied these moments; a sense of how fragile a human life could be, including his own.

Eren didn't seem to notice. He kept breaking doors. They mostly led to empty bedrooms furnished in a variety of styles presumably meant to engender an erotic thrill. Levi found them sad, as he followed about ten feet behind Eren, making sure the rooms were clear.

Eren stopped after breaking in a door and he turned and stared blankly at Levi. Levi closed the distance between them and peered into the room. It was full of women who'd apparently been sleeping in sleeping bags laid out on the floor, but were now huddled in the corner, staring at them with wide eyes.

“It's okay,” Levi said, holding up his hand. “Anyone speak English?”

A couple of the women nodded.

“Stay here. Someone will come and rescue you soon. You're not going to be hurt. It's okay.” He didn't know if they believed him or not, although some of the women started translating what he'd said.

He backed away and shut what was left of the door. It was the best he could do for now.

“There has be an office or somewhere to keep the cash. It must be on the third floor,” Levi said.

When Eren reached the top of the stairs Levi saw someone hurl themselves at him, and their foot thudded into his midsection. Eren retaliated, swinging his fists, but he couldn't seem to lay a hit on the short blonde woman in the grey hoodie, who fought like it was her job. She took him apart, or she would have if he hadn't healed as fast as he was hurt. Levi held off; he didn't want to shoot her, and he didn't think she could actually hurt Eren. Under other circumstances he might have enjoyed the performance.

Eren screamed, swinging wildly as she stepped away, fists raised. Only then did Levi realise what she was up to.

“Eren, no! Hold back.”

But Eren was already moving, and hadn't heard Levi over the sound of his own screaming. He flung himself at her, roaring, and she ducked, caught his wrist, and flung him over the glass partition that fenced off the two-story drop to the atrium below.

Levi's heart seemed to drop like a stone as Eren sailed out into empty space and plummeted. For once he wasn't screaming, and he fell silently.

Levi didn't have time to see how he'd landed. He snapped his gaze away from Eren's twisting body as the woman aimed a vicious kick to his hand that sent his gun skidding away across the carpeted floor. Only then did he hear the thud of Eren's body hitting the carpet and broken furniture below.

Don't be dead.

Levi forced himself not to think about it. He had to survive before he could help Eren.

The woman was slightly shorter than he was and she held herself the same way he did. They traded blows, Levi reminding himself of the stitches in his back as he did so. He wasn't going to be as easily fooled as Eren. She ignored the gun, as did Levi, both knowing to reach for it would leave them open to the other's attacks. She was as fast as he was, if not quite as strong. Levi raised his arms and blocked as she tried to plant her boot in his chest. He stepped forward, and jabbed at her eyes; this wasn't the time to fight like a gentleman, and when he saw an opening he elbowed her in the teeth. She was on the defensive now. Levi was stronger, and more experienced, and he gritted his teeth and kept at her, making her block and duck and step further away from the edge. Eventually her back hit the wood-panelled wall.

No sign of Eren. Levi blocked, jabbed, deflected and finally he wrapped his free hand around the woman's neck and dug his fingers in. She made a choking sound and stopped fighting, glaring at him and breathing hard through her nose.

“Where's Ackerman?”

She spat at him, and Levi flinched, turning his face away.

“Let her go,” a familiar voice said.

Reiner looked worse for wear. Someone had roughed him up far more thoroughly and more recently than Levi himself had. He had bruises down one side of his face, and a row of stitches under his lip. Given the way he was moving, he had other injuries as well.

He was carrying a shotgun, and he pointed it at Levi.

Levi shook his head. “You fire that thing your girlfriend is gonna cop it too, Reiner.” Levi refused to be cowed by the weapon, and it looked like Reiner hadn't noticed his own gun, lying a few feet away on the floor. In fact, he looked like he'd just dragged himself out of bed.

“This is all your fault,” Reiner said.

“Ackerman wasn't happy when you put that hit out on me, was he? Lots of bad publicity, and you didn't even manage to kill me.” Levi's stitches were hurting, but he did his best to hide anything that looked like a weakness, talking evenly and flatly as he caught his breath. “He did that to you personally, I'll bet. He has to be at least twice your age, but I suppose I'd already softened you up a bit.”

“You didn't do shit, Levi,” Reiner growled.

“No, I suppose not. He's your boss, after all. Even fighting fit, you'd just have to stand there and take it. And he dished out a lot, I can tell.”

He'd done so much damage, even Levi's needling didn't seem to give Reiner any desire to really fight. “Let her go and I'll let you live,” he said wearily.

“I believe you, thousands wouldn't,” Levi said, wondering if the stand-off would continue until someone's arms got tired.

Levi's heart leapt and then sank again as Eren bounded up the stairs and flung himself on Reiner. Levi could see at a glance that he was back to being himself; his movements were just as slow as any normal human's. Reiner half turned and half-staggered, not anticipating the attack, wincing as Eren hit sore spots as the young man latched onto his arm.

“Shoot him, shoot him!” Eren shouted, trying to pin Reiner's arms.

Levi didn't get a chance to as the woman twisted and drove her knee into Levi's stomach. She caught him side-on, but it still hurt, and she wriggled free of his grasp while he gasped for breath.

Eren was hanging grimly on to Reiner's arm, trying to prise the gun away from him.

Levi knew if he lost his hostage Reiner wouldn't hesitate to blow both his and Eren's head off and stuck his foot out in desperation. The woman stumbled, and he swung his fist at the back of the head. She crumpled.

“Annie!” Reiner shouted.

Levi bent down and scooped up his gun and pointed his gun at her head, standing over her. “Ackerman! And I'll forget about both of you,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“Serious?” Reiner asked, and Eren paused in his attempts to disarm him while they talked. Levi tried to indicate with his eyes that Eren should back off, given he was back to normal, but Eren didn't seem to notice.

Levi thought about it. “Yeah. You give me Ackerman, and we'll have far more important things to worry about than that sad attempt at an assassination you organised. You might, however, want to think about handing in your badge, cause after this, the rumours about you are going to be a lot worse than the rumours about me.”

Eren didn't look very happy about this deal, but he released Reiner and stepped back when the big man nodded.

Reiner gave him an address in North Point.

“You know, I don't really care which of you kills the other,” Reiner said. “One less person off my back either way.”

“Leave the gun,” Levi said.

Reiner dropped it. Levi stepped back and let Reiner kneel down and pick up the unconscious woman. He handled her carefully, gently even, and winced when he straightened up with her in his arms.

Levi watched them go, making sure he didn't stop to pick up a weapon or anything else on the way out.

“Are you all right?” Levi asked Eren. He looked all right. “I thought she might have killed you tossing you down like that.” He was so relieved she hadn't.

“I think I broke my back,” Eren said. He looked pale, and Levi could feel heat radiating from him. “It wasn't very pleasant. I healed up and then I ran out of juice, I guess. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I gotta call Hange. Those women downstairs need help, and there's probably plenty of video footage, accounting and uh, DNA evidence here as well.”

“This is a brothel?”

“Mm.” Levi took out his phone. He explained things to Hange as concisely as possible, and didn't answer when they asked what he was planning to do next.

“We didn't catch any of them though,” Eren said as they hastily made their way downstairs.

“I didn't plan on arresting anyone. My goal is still Ackerman; I assume yours is too.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Besides, once we have him, and once we let someone reliable like Erwin get a look at what he's been doing, the rest of the business will follow. The street enforcers are barely worth the effort.”

“They're the ones who kill people though.”

“Not Ackerman,” Levi said. “Clearly he does all his own stunts.”

Levi halted near the door.

“Eren, do you have it in you to bite your hand again?”

“Yeah,” Eren said. “I'll chew it off if I have to. God, I'm so nervous. I can't believe I'm finally going to see him. I just, I'm just doing this for Mom. I know if I asked she'd say I didn't have to do this, but I do,” he said softly.

“Well, not yet,” Levi said. “You make too much noise when you scream. Ackerman will hear you coming, and the neighbours will probably call the cops. So hold off, all right? If he recognises you, if he's got any sense, he'll run, and once he disappears I don't think we'll find him again.”

He didn't like doing this.

If he'd asked Eren, he knew he'd say he didn't have to do this. But he did. He'd made his mind up.

“Okay.”

“So when we get there, I'll go first. I've got a badge, remember?”

“He'll know who you are,” Eren said.

“Yeah. That's kind of what I'm counting on. He likes to settle scores personally, remember?” Levi took one last look at the scene of destruction around them. “He's going to want to talk to me about this.”

Chapter Text

It was the unmistakable click-chunk of someone checking that the first two shells had fed in correctly on a pump-action shotgun that saved Levi’s life. He grabbed Eren’s arm and yanked them both sideways into the decorative terracotta pots beside the doorway. Luckily they had flowers in them, not cacti.

The door disappeared in a shower of wooden splinters as both barrels were unloaded into it from a distance Levi estimated was less than five feet. He didn’t hesitate to return fire, a shot in the dark around the door frame to encourage Ackerman to keep his head down.

Eren was raising his hand to his mouth and Levi swatted it away.

“No!” he hissed. “Not yet,” he lied.

And Eren obeyed him, believed him. Levi didn’t have time to feel bad about it, he was listening to the retreating footsteps inside. Ackerman had to know that in this neighbourhood the cops wouldn’t be long in responding to reports of gunfire.

Levi hunched his shoulders, and keeping low darted through the doorway. He was in an empty hall that opened out into a foyer. Winding stairs up to the next floor, but Levi would have heard Ackerman if he’d gone up there. He'd retreated through the house then, probably to try and escape through the back door.

Levi pursued, Eren keeping close on his heels.

The were obliged to take cover again when a tall, lanky man in an ill-fitting and oddly bulky suit stepped out of a doorway and fired his shotgun at them.

“Ackerman!” Levi yelled.

“That’s him,” Eren muttered, his eyes wide and his breathing quick and shallow. “That’s him. After all these years.”

“Not. Yet.”

Levi peered down the hallway over the sights of his gun. Ackerman seemed to have gone off to the side somewhere. Levi didn’t take any time to admire the furnishings, but as always it seemed like crime paid.

Levi heard a door slam and he darted out of cover again. Through an open passageway he could see a large, sunny kitchen. Rows of copper pots gleamed above the benches, and there were fresh herbs in pots on the windowsill. The light reflected dazzlingly on the shiny surfaces of the room, and opposite the doorway, down the other end, was a door leading to the back garden. Ackerman's escape route. Levi narrowed his eyes against the glare.

“He’s getting away!” Eren shouted and bounded past.

“No!” Levi flung himself at Eren, tackling him as he ran into the kitchen and Ackerman fired both barrels through the space their heads had occupied a split second ago. Levi could feel the heat and force of the blast through his clothes as he and Eren tumbled to the tiled kitchen floor in an ungraceful and somewhat painful tangle. Most of the blast hit the marble counter-top and a shower of chips rained down on them. Levi's bruises washed fresh pain across his chest. He heard Ackerman pumping the shotgun to load another two shells, a precious second between life and death. Levi spent it by rolling to the side and firing his gun; he was so close he couldn't miss. Ackerman jerked backwards, and at that range the shot should have killed him; torn a hole in his chest big enough to see daylight through.

But it wasn't that easy. Ackerman didn't last as long as he had by being unprepared, and Levi realised he was wearing body armour.

Levi kicked at his legs to try and floor him but Ackerman staggered back and Eren was scrambling up and Levi let him haul the both of them to their feet as Ackerman struggled to breathe. At this range the bulletproof vest he was wearing hadn't protected him entirely, but it had saved his life. He still had to have lead in his gun, and Eren went for the weapon, wrapping his hands around the barrel and crying out in surprise when it burnt his hands. But he didn't let it go; good kid. After a moment's struggle he wrenched it away; even human he was stronger than a bony middle-aged man who’d just taken a .45 slug to the ribs.

Ackerman raised his hands and Eren staggered back, surprised that the gun was suddenly in his possession. Levi’s attention was divided.

“Give me the gun,” he ordered, knowing once Eren got it pointed in the right direction he’d probably think to use it.

Neither of them got the chance. Ackerman moved like lightning, with strength born of pure desperation. He grabbed Levi’s hand by the back of the wrist and wrenched him off balance, and awkwardly shoved him into Eren before making a break for the back door.

They built ‘em tough back then, Levi thought, taking the opportunity to knock the shotgun away from Eren. It clattered to the floor and luckily it didn't go off. Ackerman was giving it his all, but he wasn’t going to get far. Even making it to the door had drained him, and he slumped bloodily against it as he fumbled it open and practically fell through when it swung open.

Eren was grinning, eyes alight with triumph. It had to be now or never. With Eren's eyes on Ackerman, Levi fished out his handcuffs one-handed, looped one half through the copper gas pipe that led to the stove and clicked the other around Eren’s right wrist.

“What?” Eren looked at him in surprise.

“Stay put.”

“Levi, what are you doing?” Realisation was dawning as Eren looked into his eyes, “He has to die. He has to,” Eren spoke with such a look of betrayal it almost physically hurt.

Levi hefted his revolver. “He will, Eren. If that’s what you want, he will.”

Ackerman was on his hands and knees in the doorway, wheezing painfully, one hand clamped to the wound in his chest. He was still trying to escape, but seemed half-conscious.

“Levi?”

Levi looked at him, as angry and beautiful and worth it as ever, and he took a deep breath before turning away from Eren. “You break that pipe there’s going to be a gas leak,” he warned him as Eren rattled the handcuffs around his wrist. “And with all these guns about that's a risk I'd rather you not take.” Somehow he kept his voice even. Conversational.

“Levi! Stop. You don’t have to do this.” The anger in his tone had quickly bled into panic.

“If I didn’t, you would.”

“That’s as it should be.” He sounded desperate now. “You don’t do this. You’re better than that. Don’t do this for me, please. I’m not worth it. Don’t fucking do this to yourself. I can’t-”

Levi ignored him. He walked the length of the kitchen, his gun held down by his side. When he was six feet away from Ackerman he raised it, pointing it at the back of his greying head. He didn’t seem to know what was going on, moaning and still writhing in the general direction of freedom.

Levi had no right to do this; this wasn't justice.

“You bastard, you bastard, you fuck!” Eren chanted. “You fuck!” He screamed.

Levi felt sick as he put his finger on the trigger and squeezed. And took his finger off just as fast as Eren’s familiar inhuman howl preceded the clunk and hiss of the gas pipe being broken and the man himself barrelling into Levi’s back, swinging around him and grabbing his hand, ducking his head so Levi’s gun was pressed to his forehead.

“You stupid fuck, I nearly blew your head off,” Levi hissed, yanking the weapon away. “You wouldn't heal back from that.” He stared into Eren’s blank face but Eren did nothing, just stood there with his arms outstretched, between Levi and Ackerman.

Levi waited for him to move, to do something, to scream, or turn on Ackerman and rip his head off, but he just stood there, waiting, his green eyes as shallow as pebbles.

Levi flicked the safety on, and stowed the gun in his coat. He sagged, staring at Eren with eyes that were starting to sting.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he muttered, and flung his arms around him. He squeezed him firmly but briefly; there was a wounded man and a gas leak in the room, after all. Eren’s expression hadn’t changed, but to Levi’s surprise when he stepped back he saw tears were leaking down his cheeks.

He knelt down beside Ackerman, and checked that he was still breathing. The bullet had probably hit a rib or two as it hadn’t come out the other side.

Eren stood over them, staring down with his hands at his sides. Levi didn't make Eren touch Ackerman, didn't want to push his luck, and instead dragged him out of the kitchen onto the manicured lawn outside.

“Get out of here,” Levi said. “Just go. Don’t look back- wait!” Ackerman was out of it, finally having taken refuge in unconsciousness, but Levi said the words anyway. “I’m arresting you for the murder of Carla Jaeger. You have the right to remain silent, and you have the right to an ambulance, so I’ll get you one.” He took out his phone, and nodded at Eren, who turned and started running.

Levi heard the bike thirty seconds later.

After the ambulance he called Hange, who was still in the city, and then he called Erwin.

“Some things happened,” he said. “It could get out of hand if we’re not careful. Can you do that thing you do?”

“Levi, nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Erwin said. “How’s Eren?” he asked, after a brief pause.

Levi allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

There wasn't much Levi could do for Ackerman other than half-carry half-drag him away from the house in case the gas lit up and make sure his airway was clear and put some pressure on the wound. It didn't occur to him to help him die, as much as he was responsible for. Instead he sat on the curb and wished it was safe to smoke and waited.

Levi knew for a fact that Erwin had less than an hour to review the hastily collected evidence before he faced the press, but that was the kind of pressure Erwin flourished under, and he sounded like this had been his plan from the beginning. Levi was obliged to stand at his side and do his best to ignore Bossard's adoring look as Erwin explained how co-operation between Southport's police and the DA's office had brought down one of the city's biggest gangs in record time.

Erwin gave just enough praise to the Commissioner and others so they wouldn't begrudge him this moment in the spotlight, and as Levi had requested, he did his best to take the focus off Levi himself, although there was only so much he could do.

With these new events, Levi quietly suggested to Pixis that they needed to focus on picking apart the Titans' supply lines and contacts rather than chasing down whoever had shot at him. Since he was man of the hour, Pixis agreed, with a funny little smile. And then he spent twenty minutes chewing a strip off him for disregarding proper police procedure and half a dozen other things that Levi knew he'd gotten away with now the ensuing arrests had gone public.

There was a mountain of work to do, and they had to move as fast as possible. Data found in Ackerman's house and in the brothel in the city was ripped apart for leads and raids on half a dozen places were thrown together. Erwin made sure to keep the media's attention where he wanted it. Reiner was still on sick leave and there was no sign of the blonde woman, Annie.

Eventually, someone noticed Levi was technically still on sick leave as well and sent him home, but it was nearly midnight when he parked outside Eren's apartment building. They'd given him another car. They hadn't even hesitated when he'd asked for one.

Eren had sent him a couple of texts, to let him know that he was watching events on TV and that he'd collected Levi's bag from the Smith estate if he wanted to pick it up sometime.

The place smelled of pizza, and there seemed to be plenty of people still awake. When he knocked on Eren's door the sound of running feet preceded it being yanked open by the man himself.

“I hope you weren't waiting up,” Levi said.

The look on Eren's face told him that he had been. Eren stepped aside and let Levi in. Levi noticed his bag near the door, neatly packed by Annika.

“You look exhausted,” Eren said. “Uh, sit down. Want some coffee? I assume you've eaten.”

“Yeah, and yeah, and yeah. Thanks.” Levi flopped on the ugly brown couch and regretted it when the springs protested loudly. Once he was sitting, however, he was too tired to move. Eren clattered around the kitchen for a while, and Levi noticed the place had been tidied up a bit.

Eren handed him a mug and sat next to him, keeping a polite distance.

“How's Ackerman?” he asked.

“He survived surgery. Last I heard he was in a serious but stable condition.”

Eren nodded, and curled his legs up under himself to stare moodily at the blank TV.

“You know, we've got him for a lot of things,” Levi said. “But your mother's murder probably won't be one of them. He just didn't leave any evidence at the scene. But even if he wasn't the one to pull the trigger, he was responsible.”

“Yeah,” Eren said. “You were planning on stopping me all along, weren't you?”

“I think planning is too strong a term. But yes, I was going to do my best. Are you angry?”

“Yeah.” Silence for a few seconds. “And I was scared and relieved and happy and sad. But when you went to shoot him, I understood how you must have felt to see me do that. I couldn't bear to see you do that to yourself.”

“Good. That's what I intended.”

“Would you have shot him if I hadn't stopped you?”

“Yeah.” He didn't know if it was a lie or not. “Under the circumstances his death wouldn't have been unexpected; Erwin would have steered the narrative in my favour.”

“And I wouldn't have gone to prison,” Eren said. “But you'd know you were a murderer and you'd never forgive yourself for it. Or me for making you do it, but even so you did it for me.”

Levi didn't say anything, instead swirling the coffee around in his mug. He thought actions better than words anyway; Eren was working it out.

“I haven't told Mikasa who Ackerman was yet. But I let my friends know I was back and okay; they saw you on the news.” Eren cast about for more to say. “I kept my job. Just. I had to beg and apologise, but apparently I'm the fastest delivery boy they've ever had, so.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “I feel really- this is complicated.”

“Eren, you made a choice today. You made it in your blank state; calm and collected. One way or another, you have to live with it now. I'm sure there will be times you'll regret that decision, but I don't think they'll be too frequent.”

“Speaking from experience, huh?” Eren smiled at him.

“Yeah. Welcome to the club.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The silence that followed wasn't awkward, but deep, rich with thoughts and a shifting of perspectives.

“I'm going to have to put in a lot of overtime in the near future,” Levi predicted, putting his mug down on an overturned crate that was what passed for a coffee table in this place. He should go home and sleep. He'd missed his own bed.

“Hey, Levi. You and me, are we still on?” Eren asked, his hands in his lap.

Levi looked at him. After all of that he still had to ask? “Yes, if you want.”

In answer Eren grinned and the couch protested as he scooted closer. Levi wrapped an arm around his shoulders as Eren cuddled up to him.

“Just.” Levi took a deep breath; Eren had showered since he'd come home and smelled like his own soap again. “Just don't expect me to be really good at relationships. I work long hours, I need time to process shit. I need time to clean-”

“Levi.” Eren's hand was warm on his cheek. “You got over the things I've done, and I'll get over that you stopped me. We'll be okay. Probably. Better than even odds.”

Levi kissed him, and realised he had every right to, now. It was strange how things could change; with Erwin in charge of the prosecution, Levi knew he'd keep Eren out of it (his plans to make Eren some sort of secret weapon in the fight against crime was an argument he'd have another day.) The future wasn't something to be afraid of.

Eren tilted his head into the kiss and they stayed like that for a while, barely moving, eyes half-closed, playing with each other’s tongues and lips. It was sweet and unhurried, appropriate for the end of a long day but unlikely to stay that way.

Eren flung a leg over Levi’s lap and from there it only took Levi humming against his mouth and sliding his fingers up under his shirt to encourage Eren to sit on him properly, the couch groaning every time they shifted their weight.

Levi realised it scared him, a little, just how far he’d been prepared to go for Eren. He still couldn’t quite believe his gamble had paid off, and he wrapped his arms around his young lover and held him close. Levi knew how fragile life was; he spent his life watching other people’s happiness get cut short. But this, right now, was perfect. Eren was perfect; even his lopsided approach to morality and his imperfections were something wonderful, because they were him and in the end he'd made the right choice.

Levi didn’t want this to end.

He didn’t want this to stop.

He felt Eren’s hands shift from his back to the knot of his tie and after some truly inept fumbling he managed to start undoing it. Once Eren managed to get the tie off, draping it over the back of the couch, things were easier. He started on the buttons of Levi’s shirt and Levi took that as an invitation to pull off Eren’s t-shirt. This was turning into something other than a goodnight snog.

Levi was just the right height to tongue Eren’s nipples when he was sitting in his lap and he broke away from the kiss to do so, feeling the muscles in Eren’s back coil and flex under his tanned skin. Eren was rocking his hips, making the couch creak rhythmically.

He used his teeth, just a little, on a hard little nub and Eren gasped.

Levi looked up at him, kneading his hips just above the waistband of his jeans. “What are we doing?” he asked, his voice softer and more urgent than he expected.

“Can we do it?” Eren asked, his eyes alight with anticipation.

Levi reached up and pressed his thumb into Eren’s lower lip. “You don’t have to worry about prison now,” he said.

Eren smiled and his tongue flicked out to lick Levi’s thumb. “I think that’s worth celebrating. I want you, I want you.” He rocked his hips in time to his words, Levi’s cock pressing up against him through far too many layers of clothes. “Please,” Eren whispered, curling down to rest his forehead against Levi’s, eye to eye. “I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

Levi took a deep, calming breath, that didn’t really help. “You still got those supplies?”

Eren was gone so fast the comparative cool of the apartment was a shock to Levi’s bare skin. He took the opportunity to take his shirt and shoes and socks off.

“You know we could always move to the- oof!” Eren bounced out of the other room and threw himself at Levi, who winced as all his injuries asked, once again, why he wouldn’t leave them to heal in peace. “Ow. Eren.”

“Sorry.” He made an effort to look a little bit sorry and then sort of tossed the supplies in Levi’s general direction. While Levi was briefly occupied trying not to let them fall to the floor, Eren stretched out on the couch with one leg in Levi’s lap and the other one bent up to start undoing his belt.

“You should put a towel down,” Levi said. “Or you’re gonna get lube all over your couch.”

“It’s not my couch,” Eren said breathlessly. “It came with the place, so it’s probably seen a lot worse.”

“That’s disgusting,” Levi said, wondering how many other virgins had been debauched in the exact same spot. And how they’d put up with the noise of the broken springs that crunched as Eren shimmied out of his pants.

Levi was about to suggest they go somewhere marginally cleaner when Eren discarded his clothes, tossing them cheerfully somewhere over his head, and Levi completely forgot what he was going to say.

Eren smelled like sex, young and vital, and he was laid out with one leg still bent up as if he knew it would display himself to best effect. The effect on Levi was instantaneous. His cock was rigid in his pants and he found himself licking his lips.

“What?” Eren said, suddenly self-conscious again as his fingers curled and uncurled, presumably with the effort of not moving to hide his twitching cock from Levi’s gaze.

“Nothing,” Levi said. “Nothing.” He crawled over him, bracing himself on the armrest above Eren’s head before lowering his head to kiss him, his hips wedged somewhat awkwardly between Eren’s legs. “You’re perfect. Are you sure about this? We can wait, it’s not-”

Eren took a deep breath and raised his voice, “Levi, fuck me. Please.” He added more softly, “I know you think you’re shit at this stuff.” Levi looked into his eyes, confused, as he continued. “But you’re not. You’re kind and smart and I trust you. Trust yourself a little.” He punctuated this by lifting his head to kiss Levi sweetly.

I’ve lost, Levi thought. How did I ever fool myself into thinking I could win?

He braced himself on one arm and used his free hand to run his fingers down Eren’s body. Eren undulated against him, practically vibrating with anticipation, every touch eliciting a shudder or a sigh, until Levi squeezed the end of his cock and Eren gasped loudly.

“Yeah,” Levi muttered against his jaw. “Keep that up, let me hear what you like,” he said, moving his hand slowly.

“I, ah! Don’t think I could be quiet,” Eren confessed. He hummed and lifted his hips as Levi cupped his balls. “Unless you gagged me,” Eren added, his eyes gleaming wickedly when Levi lifted his head in surprise.

“Greedy,” he muttered, sinking his teeth into Eren’s neck, making him jump and cry out. He worked his way down Eren’s body with his lips until he was kneeling between his legs, his feet wedged against the other armrest and one of Eren’s legs now draped over his shoulder, the other braced against the floor. He played with him, tugging and tweaking and kneading him with hands slick with Eren’s precome.

“I’m gonna come if you keep this up,” Eren said almost petulantly, once he’d managed to muster the breath to do so. His fingers were digging into the material of the couch, his face flushed.

Levi rather reluctantly prodded around the couch until he’d found where the bottle of lube had gone to.

“What are you doing?” Eren asked as Levi unrolled a condom part way over his finger.

“It’s hygienic,” he replied.

Eren heaved an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Hips up,” Levi said, and when he complied he swatted him across the arse, making his cock bounce as he yelped in surprise. “Don’t be a brat. I’ve got latex gloves in the car if you’d prefer.”

Eren tightened his grip on Levi’s torso with his thighs, “Don’t you dare go anywhere. Besides, those are proper police gloves for feeling up suspects, probably.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and then the tension broke and they laughed, bending in to kiss before Eren flopped back again.

“I could do this part if you wanted,” he said. “I’ve done it before, you know, when I’m thinking about you in the shower.”

“No,” Levi said, and something about the way he said it made Eren look quite happy.

He took his time, touching Eren’s cock with his other hand while he slicked and played with his entrance with the other. He’d never been in this sort of situation before, but Eren seemed to think he was quality lover material and he was doing his best not to disappoint him.

He worked Eren over until he couldn’t hear the couch creaking over the sound of his harsh breathing and groans and little cries. He wondered if the neighbours could hear, and decided he didn’t much care if they could. Such was his concentration, as he pressed a second finger inside, he thought it might be possible to come just from fucking Eren with his fingers, watching and listening and feeling him. It was that bad. Or good. He realised he was moving his hips, his whole body in time with his fingers.

But he didn’t want that. He wanted him around his cock, like he had in the bathroom, like he had the minute he’d laid eyes on him- he could admit that now.

His fingers slid out easily, Eren twitching at their loss.

“How is it?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, good,” Eren panted, licking his lips. “Give it a try.”

Levi discarded the condom on his fingers; awkward, definitely using gloves next time, and unzipped before opening a new one.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised as Eren lifted himself up a bit higher.

“I can hear how much you don’t want to,” Eren said, his voice hoarse. “It’s really fucking hot.”

Levi didn’t say anything, instead flicking his gaze between Eren’s face, and his arse as Levi guided himself in. He kept his promise. When he saw a frown wrinkle Eren’s forehead he stopped, and waited until it smoothed itself out. He’d given up trying to keep either his pants or the couch even remotely free of lube.

Levi didn’t even try to get it all in, not this time. It didn’t seem to matter, the sheer fact of what he was doing, and the heat and warmth around the first two inches of his cock was gonna get him there and they were both running out of patience. He shuffled them around a little shifting Eren’s leg off his shoulder so he could bend forward and Eren reached up to wrap his arms around him.

“How is it?” Levi breathed.

“Um, good.” Eren had gone a bit quiet. He gazed into Levi’s eyes adoringly, but Levi wanted to do better than that.

He gripped Eren’s hips and shifted them around a little, and then Eren bucked against him and his head head the headrest with a thunk as he cried out. That was more like it. Levi could feel his reaction, and fuck if the strongest emotion he had at that moment was relief. He didn’t want Eren to have a lousy first time.

“More of that?” Levi asked.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck yes.”

Levi made him yell again. And again. And then he reached down between them and started stroking Eren’s cock and Eren’s legs were crossed behind his back, urging him on. It didn’t take either of them terribly long after that. Levi had been working on keeping his orgasm at bay ever since he’d done away with Eren’s last inch of virginity and once he’d stopped fighting it there’d been no going back.

He didn’t think he’d ever made so much noise before, and he’d be slightly embarrassed about it later, but in that moment he lost himself and there was no shame, there wasn’t even anyone else in the universe. Just him and Eren.

When he opened his eyes, Eren was a mess, sticky and slick, come pooling in his belly button.

They panted against each other's mouth, too tired to kiss.

“Wow,” Eren said, and his voice cracked and he coughed.

“Hey,” Levi managed a half a smile.

“Um, can you take it out please?” Eren asked.

“Shit, sorry. Yeah.” He tried to be gentle but Eren looked relieved when they were separated. Eren looked young; sated but fragile, a little uncertain. Levi reached for him, wrapped his arms around him, pressed his lips to his ear and head and cheek, and pulled his body against his own.

“Hey, I’m covered in-”

“I don’t care. It’ll wash off.”

Eren returned his embrace like he was cold, even though he felt warm and Levi held him as hard as he dared. Gradually Eren relaxed, and started returning his kisses, less urgently.

“Are you staying?” Eren asked. “It’s a small bed but I changed the sheets.”

“If you’ll have me,” Levi said.

“Already did.” Eren grinned, a wide and toothy smile that reached his eyes, as bright as a spring morning.

Chapter Text

Her fingernails were beautiful. A little flowery design had been painted in each one, and Levi watched, fascinated, as she folded the paper napkin into smaller and smaller squares. They were oddly girlish compared to the rest of her, but they suited her as well. She must have been startlingly beautiful once, and even now, greying and careworn, her shoulders slightly bowed under innumerable burdens, she was striking. Her hair, pulled back in a bun, gleamed like it had been oiled, black streaked with grey. Levi suspected she was wearing her best dress; she didn't seem entirely comfortable in it, as elegant as she looked.

The sat across from each other, not speaking, Levi radiating calm patience while the woman nervously folded another napkin, her coffee untouched. One of the servers approached to ask if they needed anything but Levi caught her eye and shook his head.

The sound of a motorcycle caught Levi's attention.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, and got to his feet.

Mikasa was fixing her hair when Levi emerged from the coffee shop while Eren secured their helmets to his bike.

“Is it good?” she asked.

“It's fine,” Eren said

Mikasa was wearing a pale peach dress under her coat, andEren had scrubbed up too, a collared shirt on under his jacket, and jeans that actually looked clean for once.

Levi smiled at them both. Winter was nearly here, and a cold breeze ruffled the feathers of the pigeons hopping around the outside tables. He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited.

“Okay,” Mikasa took deep breath and approached him. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah. She's nervous.”

“So am I. Thank you, Levi,” Mikasa said. “For all you've done.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

Levi escorted the siblings inside, and when he did so the woman he'd been sitting with got to her feet.

“Mikasa?”

“Mom!” The coffee shop wasn't very full but she got the attention of everyone there as she ran to her, flinging her arms around the woman as they both burst into tears. Levi stood and watched the reunion for a few moments, as mother and daughter beamed at each other, make-up running. A sniffle at his side alerted him to the fact that Eren was quietly tearing up beside him.

“Come on,” Levi said softly. “They can find us when they're ready.” He offered Eren a handkerchief and they strolled out to the railing that overlooked the harbour. Mikasa and her mother huddled in the booth beside each other and it didn't seem right to listen in to the conversation.

Eren sniffled and blew his nose and knew better than to offer Levi his handkerchief back when he was done.

“Was she hard to find?” he asked.

“Not once I knew Mikasa's real name.”

Eren nodded.

Weeks had turned into months without him noticing, and Southport continued the way it had always done.

The wheels of justice turned slowly and few of the Titans had been sentenced yet. Verman had been arrested for speeding and they'd found cocaine in the spotlessly clean Audi, but it looked like he was going to plea-bargain his way out of it. Several bodies had been fished out of the harbour as the other gangs carved up the Titans' old territories. Reiner quit the force.

Levi had been promoted to sergeant, and if he attended the right courses he knew he could probably go further, although he resisted the idea; too much politics. In practical terms it meant little more than more paperwork, and looking after Moblit as well as Hange, who had gone up a pay grade as well.

The wound on his back had healed to a scar, and he had one on his chin as well, almost unnoticeable most of the time, visible only when he hadn't shaved as a pale splotch among the stubble. Eren had a habit of pressing his fingertip against it gently.

Erwin continued to lead a charmed life, although he'd got in the habit of staring wistfully off into the distance and wondering if his mother was right and he should settle down. Levi appreciated the envy but rather wished he'd either do something about it or shut up. Eren was always sympathetic, however, offering unlikely suggestions, as if one of Southport's more eligible bachelors would have trouble finding a date.

As promised, Levi had paid for Mike to get a new phone, and Mike had gravely paid for their coffee in return.

Bossard still occasionally tried to get an interview.

And Eren. The question hung unasked between them: do you need my help? Levi had privately decided he would call on Eren if it was to save his own life. He had little choice. Because if he died on the job, he knew an avenging demon would stalk Southport in his wake and that there would be no one prepared or capable enough to stop him. What other circumstances might cause him to summon the beast he wasn't sure, and Eren seemed content to wait, for now, for a call that Levi hoped he'd never have to make.

In the meantime, he stayed by his side.

Once he'd calmed down, Eren went and got them both coffee and Levi wrapped his hands around the warm cup gratefully.

“Thank you,” Eren said.

“For what?”

Eren shrugged. “Everything. What you've done for us.” Eren tilted his head to indicated the reunited family behind them.

“That's my job, Eren.”

He didn't argue, instead smiling knowingly. “Hey, I think Mikasa's going to be busy this weekend. Are we on?”

“I'm not going to another fucking concert,” Levi said, sipping his coffee.

“I thought you had fun.”

“I had fun peeling those jeans off you afterwards. The concert I could take or leave,” Levi said.

Eren grinned and nudged him, “Okay, I'll wear the jeans and we could stay in this time. Or just go for a ride someplace.”

“Mm, okay.” Levi smiled. Out of force of habit he reached into his pocket and then paused upon finding it empty. He sighed and withdrew his hand again.

“Gum?” Eren asked.

“Yes, I love spearmint flavoured coffee,” Levi retorted.

“It has to be better than tobacco flavoured coffee,” he pointed out.

“How would you know?”

Eren usually would be happy to banter with him for hours but this time he just gave him a goofy grin.

“I really love you,” Eren said softly.

“Where did that come from?” Levi asked, caught off-guard with the cup half-raised towards his lips. His heart did that lurching thing that he didn't think he was ever going to get used to.

Eren just shrugged helplessly, like it was too big to even begin explaining, and Levi understood. He was saved from having to reply however, by Eren's phone chiming in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it and then looked back at the coffee shop.

“She wants to meet me,” he said. “Mikasa says she wants to thank me and probably cry all over my shirt.” He said it lightly, but Levi suspected he'd cry all over hers too.

“Go on then,” Levi replied. “I have to get back to work soon anyway.”

“Okay. I'll see you.” Eren knew Levi avoided public displays of affection so he only smiled as he strolled away.

“Eren,” Levi said, and Eren paused and looked back. “Me too.”

It took him a moment to get it and then he grinned. “Yeah, obviously.”

Levi stayed where he was for a while, and reflected on the circumstances that might see him acquire a foster mother-in-law with beautifully painted nails.