Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Food prices really have been going up huh?” you muse, fingers dreamingly sliding over the wooden counter of Gary’s bar. Your mind briefly dozes off as you take in the pleasant cozy lighting of the room, the faint chatter in the background, and the familiar smell of mead and sweet beverages that are somehow typical for this bar. This will soon be overthrown by the stench of sweaty men and musty tobacco when the busy hours hit, but for now, you savor the tranquility surrounding you.

“Yeah… these damn upper-ground suppliers. Waltzing in here with their filled bellies, thinking they own the fucking place,” Gary grunts. He takes a rag and starts cleaning the bar counter, his movements vigorous and irritated.

Just like you, the buff bearded man has never been fond of the rich men who come down this city to further exploit the poor. They undeniably have a fantastic business tactic: the fresh, delicious fraction of food is sold above-ground, while the trash, the failed harvests, and the not-so-pristine batches that don’t fit the standards of the outsiders are sold in the Underground. Everyone knows people here are too poor to complain anyway. If by miracle some decent products manage to descend into this hell hole, they are sold at ridiculous prices. After all, the upper-ground suppliers are the ones who control the prices when trading with underground sellers, and evidently, how could the poor roaches from the Underground ever deserve a taste of some decent food, right?

“They should get robbed,” you mumble while staring into your glass. You know exactly in which direction you want this conversation to go, and hopefully Gary catches on. You don’t want to be too obvious about it though—you’re not the only one in his bar. You quickly glance at the man sitting two barstools away, but he doesn’t seem to be listening. He’s longingly staring into his glass, clearly drinking his sorrows away. The dim, yellow lighting of the room accentuates his tired features, and for a brief moment, you wish you could console him somehow.

“Well, they do get robbed. One good thing about the thieves in this city is that they know how to make them arrogant pricks suffer.” A lopsided smile twists Gary’s lips as he puts the rag away and starts rinsing a beer cup.

“Hmm. You mean they rob them during their trades? Thought it was too heavily guarded? I'm sure these assholes have enough money to pay for surveillance.” You try your best not to sound too curious.

“Guess if you’re with enough people, you can manage anything,” he shrugs.

“Gangs, huh?”

There must be something about your tone that reveals your hidden intentions, because Gary’s hazel eyes suddenly flick to you. He has known you for too long, he knows you want him to give out some precious information. An amused smirk grows on his face and you grin back. You both know.

He discretely glances at the man next to you. Except for him, there isn’t anyone close by. Just two groups of people sitting at the back of the bar. You purposely came here a couple of hours before this place tends to fill up.

Straightening himself up, Gary slides his hand over the smooth dome of his bald head. “I guess so. Want something else to drink?”

You both know what he’s hinting at.

“Yeah. I feel like trying something new though. What are those?” you ask, pointing at the bottles displayed at the far end of the bar. You genuinely have no idea what any of those beverages are, and quite frankly, you don’t really want to know.

“New recipes of mine. Come, I’ll show you what I have.” He jerks his chin for you to follow. You get off your stool and follow him along the counter. He stops in front of the bottles you pointed at, and a quick glance around confirms you’re safely out of earshot from everyone else. In one smooth move, Gary takes one of the bottles and fills a shot-glass to the brim. When his eyes flick up to yours, you give him a raised brow.

“Bit too soon for the strong stuff don’t you think?” You warily look at the shot-glass he shoves in your direction. The dark liquid dances in front of you in a teasing manner, threatening your taste buds.

“None of these bottles here are soft. Your request, not mine.” He winks at you.

Oh, how this man loves to torment you sometimes.

With a sigh, you decide to just quickly get it over with. The moment the liquid touches your lips however, you realize it was a grave mistake.

You jolt back in disgust whilst trying your hardest to swallow that monstrosity. “What the fuck is this, Gary?” You can’t help but laugh.

“Watch your mouth missy, it’s my newest piece of art. Worked hard on that one.” He’s grinning, looking as amused as you are.

“Oh, it’s definitely artistic. Quite a unique taste you brought to life there,” you mock, mouth still shaped in a grimace of disgust.

He chuckles at your playful insult, and leans closer. “So, up to something new I see?”

You give him a lazy shrug. “Just curious about these thieves. What do you know about them?”

Gary is used to this. He knows you never reveal much information. The good thing about him is that he never pries. It’s a sort of silent, mutual agreement you two have. He’s like family to you, yet you know nothing about each other’s private lives. You’re not sure why neither of you ever felt the need to talk about these things. It’s not that you don’t trust him, but maybe you just both prefer to keep that misery away from here. In this bar, you only talk about mundane occurrences, and forget about all the problems haunting your lives. It’s quite typical Underground behavior anyway. Prying in each other’s personal matters always comes at a risk, after all. You never know what darkness may unfold.

You’re sure that through the years though, he has guessed you’re a thief. Yet, he has never confronted you about it. He’s simply always ready to help and give you the information you need. Since he’s a barman, everything that happens in this city goes through his ears.

You’re not sure when exactly your friendship got so strong, but it all started when you were fifteen. He was being attacked by a group of thugs who wanted to rob his bar. Gary is intimidatingly bulky and strong, and you have rarely seen people with the balls to challenge him, but that day he was outnumbered. You were walking past his bar, and the chaotic noises inside were a clear indication something was terribly wrong. Normally, you would’ve just left. A fifteen-year-old girl has no business interfering with dangerous fights in this city. You would have been long dead if that was a habit of yours. Yet, when you saw Gary’s face, something in your heart snapped. You couldn’t bring yourself to simply walk away. Instead, you grabbed the two throwable knives you always carried with you, and threw them at two of the attackers. The blades pierced straight into their thighs, which was followed by screams of pain and loud cursing at their buddies to 'get that fucking brat'. At that, the other two men immediately tried to chase you down. Luckily, you had already vigorously trained your parkouring for years. They might have had longer legs, but you managed to easily duck and crawl through obstacles until they lost you. When you deemed it safe enough to return to Gary’s bar to check on him, he stared at you in disbelief, saying he had feared the worst. “Don’t ever do that again kiddo. You could’ve died,” he said warningly, but the warmth in his voice told you he would forever be grateful.

And he was. Through the years, you came by regularly. You both were always just joking around, talking about everything and anything. He was there to ease your loneliness and to fill your life with the mundaneness you needed, and you suppose you provided the same for him. He never tried anything inappropriate, even when you became of legal age. Instead, he was always a father figure. Even now, he's still protective over you. Every single man who has ever made you uncomfortable here has gotten kicked out of the bar, harshly. People now know better than to harass you. Maybe this is why this bar is like a second home. It feels good to be watched over, to be protected. Much different from any other part of your life. Outside of this bar, you only have yourself.

And right now, Gary's help and protection comes in the form of providing you with any information you need. You can already tell by his gleaming eyes that he has some interesting whispers to tell you, as always.

“There are a couple of gangs who target the bigger trades, but a little birdie told me that one particular gang is responsible for the huge majority of these robberies. Unlike many other groups, they are pretty damn coordinated. Can only assume they’re good at spying for information. Wherever big money appears, they appear. They’ve been able to steal from the richest bastards who have the balls to set foot in this shitty place."

“Hmm… Interesting,” you murmur, sliding your fingers over the shot-glass as you think his words through. “What do you know about this gang?”

“They’re the ones you see flying around with that police gear sometimes. Pretty sure they’re mainly located in the South.”

You look up in surprise. “They’re the ones with ODM gear?”

He nods. “Tells you enough about them. Wouldn’t fuck around with these guys, heard they are one of the most skilled gang of thieves in the city. Apparently, it’s because of their leader. He doesn’t look like it, but the man is a machine. Heard even the Altieri gang from the West don’t wanna mess with him.”

You lift an eyebrow. This is exactly the information you need, but it definitely sounds dangerous. For a brief moment, you try to contemplate your options.

Deep down though, you already know you don’t have a choice.

A heavy weight tightens your chest as you remember the lifeless look on your sister’s face. Luna had always been the cheerful type, full of energy. She always brought that bit of light in your life you needed to push through. Whenever you were hopeless, whenever you were afraid, she always managed to cheer you up with her positive energy. You never thought anything could ever take that energy away from her, but you were wrong. Ever since she got sick a couple of weeks ago, the life has slowly been draining out of her. You’re haunted by the memory of her weakened smile as she tried to comfort you, her cold hands caressing yours while she attempted to convince you she was going to be okay. She isn't. The doctor has been very clear: if she doesn’t get treatment from hospitals above-ground, she won’t make it. You only have around three months at best. Three months to scrape such an absurd amount of money that it has you nearly pulling your own damn hair out. There is no way, no way in hell you could ever collect such an amount by casually pickpocketing around. No matter if you would do it day and night. No matter if you would cross your moral barrier and rob every man and child who crosses your path. The amount of money you need is simply too absurd. People here are way too poor.

No, to save your sister's life, you have to look for where the real capital is. Big trades between rich merchants who come from the surface to greedily fill their pockets. Whether the trades involve food, drugs, or sex trafficking, you know they’re happening relatively frequently, and you know that a lot of money is involved. The problem is: high cash means high surveillance. Sure, you can handle two or three men on your own if you’re being strategic, but it’s physically impossible to sabotage an entire trade like that by yourself. You may be ballsy sometimes, but you’re not insane. You need other people.

So, what are your options? You can’t simply recruit people to help you. You don’t know anyone skilled enough for the job, and you can’t casually ask around if somebody would be oh so kind to start a gang with you.

Joining a gang would be an option, except you don’t exactly want to get killed or assaulted by a bunch of brutes you don’t know. Seeing as you’re a woman, that would be like a lamb willingly walking into a den of lions. There is no ounce of a chance they would respect you or keep their paws off of you. Women in the Underground are only good for prostitution and childbearing after all, as the vile saying goes. Besides, you can’t exactly order people around and demand they perform the heists you have in mind from the get-go.

That leaves you with one last option: instead of joining a gang, you can leech from one. Sabotage their heists. They would have to do all the big tasks: distract or outnumber the victims, find out where their money is, and bring the cash out in the open. And that is exactly when you swoop in, in the midst of the chaos, when the money is exposed and everybody is drowning in the madness of the heist. You would be the one who knows exactly what’s going on, and you would swiftly grab the stolen money when they least expect it.

It’s like pickpocketing a thief who just managed to rob a bank. Slipping the money out of their hands as they’re just about to let out the biggest sigh of relief, thinking they made it.

An unexpected move, and you could take great advantage of that.

You know the risks though. You’ve thought about this over and over again. Whichever gang you will target, they will be fuming. They will be hungry for your blood. But you don’t have a choice. You can’t let your sister die. She’s the only family you have left, the only one who has been with you through thick and thin. You have sworn to protect her, even if it means your death.

You take a deep breath.

“Who is that leader?”

Gary narrows his eyes. “Kiddo, don’t get yourself into some dangerous mess.”

It secretly warms your heart, the way he’s never able to repress his protective side, and you can’t help but smile. ”Don’t worry old man. I don’t put myself in anything I can’t handle. I wouldn’t be alive, otherwise.” You cover his hand with yours, giving him a warm squeeze.

He sighs and hesitates, but he must know you’ll find out anyway, whether he tells you now or not. He has never been able to stop your dangerous missions before, and he knows damn well now is not an exception.

“His name is Levi.”

Chapter Text

A nervous sigh escapes your lips.

Your nostrils are filled with the smell of rotten wood as you’re crouched behind a stack of old crates.

You’re safe. No one can see you hidden in the shadows. You’re safe.

You’ve been repeating this mantra for the past half-hour or so, but it hasn’t done anything to ease the heavy knot of anxiety twisting your stomach.

With a inhale a deep, you try to wash your self-doubt away. You're a skilled thief. You know that. Challenging yourself and fighting your fears is something you’ve been doing since you were a child. This is nothing new. This fear clenching your lungs is nothing new, either.

Some people are born fearless, going through their risky lives with admirable ease, but unfortunately, that’s never been the case for you. You weren’t born strong or brave. Your parents just made sure you learned to be. They knew that your natural stealth, which you’ve inherited from your mother, wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the cruelties of the Underground, so they notoriously trained you to fight ever since you were a child.

Which is probably why you have the guts to be here today, crouched behind these stinky crates.

Although you parents shaped this courage, the cruelties of the Underground deserve some credit too. They took over your education when you were barely a teenager. You were only thirteen when your parents died. Luna was nine. The military police finally caught them, ruthlessly murdered them when they went out to get groceries, and to this day, your mother’s last words still haunt you at night.

“We’ll be out for a bit. We heard they brought some actual fresh apples today! We’ll buy the red ones, your favorites.” She crouched down and gave you a warm hug, and you vividly remember the sweetness of her voice, her warm reassuring smile irradiating the room. “Take care of Luna, alright? We’ll be back soon.” 

They never came back.

They knew it would happen eventually. Your bloodline has been hunted by the Royal Government for decades, and it was only a matter of time before your parents were found. Still, you never actually believed something would happen to them. You always thought your parents were skilled and cautious enough. That day, though, you learned that no matter how careful you are, no matter how much control you think you have, death is always lurking behind the corners, ready to swallow you when you least expect it.

And maybe it’s this realization, this knowlegde that life is fragile and feeble even when it doesn’t appear to be, that makes you so incredibly anxious today.

This mission feels like flirting with death. For the first time, you're about to rob an entire gang. A dangerous one at that. A fresh wave of nervousness constricts your throat as you remember Gary’s words.

“Problem with Levi is that he apparently got the brains, the sharpness, and the fighting skills. Pretty fatal combination if you ask me. Good thing he’s just a thief. I think It’d be worse if he was some sort of psychopathic murderer.”

“But he has murdered people, right?” you asked him.

Gary shrugged “Of course. You don’t get that level of respect without shedding some blood. It doesn’t seem to be his goal though, the man just wants to steal. As long as you don’t stand in his way, you’re good.”

And now you're about to stand in his way.

You’ve pulled off dangerous missions before, but this is pushing it. In normal circumstances, you're always strategic about who you rob. You don’t want to end up with a gang of vengeful criminals breathing down your neck, so you always stick to the lonewolves and the ones who clearly only carry two brain cells in their thick skulls.

Except today.

Today, you’re doing something that is bordering on insanity.

Then again, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone is exactly what has shaped you into the person you are. It’s in your blood. At least, it has been ever since you lost your parents. Despite being scared and alone when you were thirteen, you were forced to survive using the skills they’d drilled into you. At first, you only stole from weak merchants and old folks because you were weak, but that didn’t last long.

You trained yourself to spy and to slyly pickpocket people while distracting them. You kept refining all the things your parents passed down about self-defense, knife-throwing, and hand-to-hand combat. You even challenged the neighborhood kids to fights in order to grow tougher. Every time you wanted to give up and crawl back in fear, your mother’s words echoed in your head: “If you don’t learn to face your fears, the Underground will crush you. Keep fighting, always.”

So you did. As your skills and confidence grew, you targeted stronger people — people who didn’t leave you feeling a pang of guilt after robbing them. You targeted slightly richer merchants who were known to exploit the poor, you targeted rapists, pedophiles, and the lowest scum you could find. Gary always did an excellent job providing their identities. You even started finding pleasure in taking away all their belongings, and you didn’t hesitate to leave them a little souvenir. A generous kiss by your blade, for example.

It’s that confidence, that growth, that you need to channel today. Yes, this mission will be riskier, but you know your strengths and you're sure you can outplay and outrun the bastards if you plan everything well. As long as you don’t get too close to their leader, you’ll be fine. And honestly, how bad can that Levi person be? You can’t back out because of some rumors surrounding one man. You will simply have to be careful.

In order to find their hideout, you had to spy around for many days. Endlessly sneaking and creeping on roofs and dark corners as you do best. You quickly found out that one of their members is… loud. It always amused you how careless he was. You didn’t have to spy on him for long before finding out all about their next heist. They're going to attack a trade set by Waltson, one of the wealthier scum who sells products in the Underground. The underground distributors who are going to partake in the trade aren’t angels either. They’re well known to control the entire market and exploit the poverty and hopelessness of the people who live here.

So here you are, waiting for the gang to arrive and make a move. You're in a perfect position, hidden behind old wooden crates in a small, poorly lit side street. With your black hood covering your features, you know you’re nearly impossible to detect in the shadows. The dark alley you’re in opens up to a bigger street, in which you can see the merchants and guards carrying boxes of goods. They’re calmly talking to each other, clearly oblivious of what chaos is going to befall them. You don’t see any money out in the open, but if what you heard from the gang is correct, the bags of cash reside within the wooden crates, hidden from thieves like you.

The gang’s plan is simple: Levi, along with his main companion Furlan, will use their ODM gear to tumble the boxes down. The impact will break them open, and the money will be scattered on the ground. Four men are charged to grab the cash and flee from the merchants and guards. Can’t really go wrong, can it?

Well, except that you’ll swoop in and ruin their day.

After a long stretch of time, you hear a noise. A rush of satisfying, but nerve-wracking adrenaline runs through your body as the zipping sound of 3DMG fills your ears.

They’re finally here.

Two people suddenly fly by at a rapid speed, undoubtedly Levi and Furlan. This is directly followed by a loud crashing sound. The stacks of wooden boxes tumble down onto the ground. On the impact, the boxes break open, and the treasures roll on the floor, exactly as the gang planned. Your sharp focus starts to water out the sound of your hammering heartbeat as you prepare yourself for your next move. You can already see the four gang members running up to the bags, while the merchants and their guards are still frozen in surprise. The first thief quickly grabs the first bag.

Wait.

Wait just a little more.

NOW.

Before the fourth and last member has the chance to grab the remaining treasure, you dart forward and swiftly grab it in front of his face, knowing full well the other gang members are already ahead and won't turn around to follow you. 

Immediately after passing him, a sound of astonishment blurts out of the man. "Wh.. what the fuck?!"

Without looking back once, you keep running forward. The thief behind you has no time to turn around and chase you down, just as you had expected. The merchants are right on his heels, and the only thing he can do is run forward while probably cursing you to death in his mind. You don't hear the merchants chasing you either; you came from an unexpected angle and they can’t permit the time to change their momentum.

The feeling of triumph inside of you grows by the minute as you run and dart into unexpected alleys to distance yourself from the scene.

If only they could see the grin on your face. You did them dirty. A laugh escapes you as you remember the utter shock of the last gang member when you swooped in.

With a heaving chest, you finally stop in an empty dark alley, knowing perfectly well nobody managed to follow you.

While closing your eyes and catching your breath, your body fills with relief and glee. 

This went even smoother than you expected.

As you let out a big final sigh of relief, you take off the black mask covering the lower part of your face, and you take a slow, deep breath of air. You slip your hand inside the bag of money you’re hiding under your black cape, fingers slightly trembling with eagerness and curiosity.

You blink in disbelief.

Holy shit.

The rush of excitement that follows almost has you laughing hysterically. It’s… a lot. Way more than you had expected.

You did it. You won.

...................

You have no idea how long you’ve been creeping on your neighbor’s roofs. Two hours? Maybe three? Good thing you’re stealthy, because otherwise you’d be known as that creep who obsessively stalks her own neighborhood every day.

Deciding you’ve surveilled the perimeter for long enough, you crawl towards a familiar box that has been on your neighbors’ roof for years. It looks like an ordinary old crate, but it’s where you always hide long vests to cover your attire. You can’t risk entering your home with the same clothes you do your crimes in, after all. Nobody in your neighborhood has ever seen you wearing your signature black cloak, and nobody ever will.

Making sure no one sees you, you carefully crawl down the building, and put on your long robe. You casually walk to your front door and slide your keys in, throwing one last glance over your shoulder before entering.

When the door closes behind you, you let out a relieved sigh.

The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet as you drag yourself to your couch. An ugly old thing, but oh so comfortable. With a sigh, you collapse into the soft cushions.

Sometimes you wonder if your cautiousness isn’t a bit much. The routine of sneaking for hours on end, watching every move of everyone who is in the area, before daring to step into your own home might be a little extreme. Most importantly: it's exhausting.

And to make matters worse, this isn’t even your real home. You’re just pretending it is. The building you truly sleep in is behind this one.

Which, when you think about it, is a tad bit dramatic.

But you can’t help it. Whenever you think about the dangers you put yourself through on a daily basis, leading to low-life brutes wanting you dead, you feel the urge to be ridiculously careful. Your frantic thoughts are only ignited further whenever you remember who your parents are, and who you are, and how fragile humans are, and how someone could extinguish your life as easily as they did with your parents.

This anxiety born from this realization feels like a blessing and a curse.

The blood flowing inside your veins — which is a big source of this anxiety — feels like a blessing and a curse, too.

The ‘curse’ aspect is obvious: your bloodline has been prosecuted by the King for decades. As it turns out, one of your ancestors woke up one morning deciding it would be a wonderful idea to turn against the Royal Government, which has led to a ruthless hunt. You’ve always wondered why, but your mother never gave you any details. Maybe she didn’t know herself, or maybe she kept silent to protect you. All you know is that your mother’s side of the family, together with the Azumabito and the Ackerman family, have been notoriously hunted by the Government for decades. This is exactly the reason why your mother fled to the Underground in the first place.

The ‘blessing’ of your genes, however, is that it comes with a little power. Keyword here is “little”, because apparently, the skills of your family don’t really compare with the ones of the Ackerman family.

“We’re like cats, but they’re like wolves,”  your mother always used to say. “Both could easily hunt down a scared chicken, but the power difference between the two is quite obvious”. You would always laugh at her self-deprecating jokes about how “We’re just the watered-down version of the Ackermans, soggy pieces of bread compared to some good ‘ol crunchy toast”, but she never failed to make you feel like you had a gift.

“There is a reason why our family used to work for the King. Though the Ackermans are physically much stronger, we do compete with them in turns of stealth and senses. Our family’s work for the Royal Government mostly consisted of spying and going on stealthy but dangerous missions. It’s what we’re best at.”

It's not for nothing your mother was a skilled thief, and it's not for nothing you are too. Relentless training has done a lot, but you would never be this good if it wasn’t for the blood running in your veins. You're sharp. Your eyesight, your hearing, and your sense of smell undoubtedly surpass the average. Your reflexes are fast, and your stealth comes naturally to you. Hide and seek was your favorite game as a child, and you always loved to silently crawl around like cats with Luna, hunting each other down. Genetical heritage really is a strange thing.

You’re not going to pretend like you were born with your fighting skills and good aim, though. It has taken you blood, sweat and tears to get there. However, you suspect your genes have slightly helped you along the way.

Nonetheless, you never let this get to your head, and neither did your parents. They were always extremely cautious. As a child, you even thought they were too cautious. Oh, how quickly life proved you wrong.

Their efforts didn’t go down the drain though. The military police have a long way before knowing about you and Luna, because nobody knows you’re related to your parents. They made sure of that.

During your thirteen years of living with your parents, you didn’t go out in public together once. It's probably the only reason you and your sister are still alive. During your entire childhood, you lived separately from them. At least, that’s what it looked like. You and your sister lived in the small apartment you’re in right now, while your parents lived in the bigger building behind this one. In reality, both homes are connected by a secret hole in the wall. You slept separately, but during the day, you crawled through the wall and joined your parents. Nobody knew you were related, nobody knew you ate dinner together every day, you were never allowed to tell anyone.

Everyone thought you and your sister were orphans. It didn’t always go without questions, of course, because your parents took good care of you and they’re relatively well off. You didn’t only have the luck of having two living parents, but also two working parents, which isn’t particularly common. The women who want to marry and settle, the ones who decide to avoid a life of escorting, prostitution, and brothels, usually resort to being housewives. The job market is horrendous, and the brutes in this city aren’t exactly generous enough to allow competition to appear if it can easily be… removed.

Luckily, your mother was part of the small group of female criminal masterminds in this city. If it wasn’t for her, you might have fallen into the same systemic prison most women find themselves in this cursed place. Her words made you stronger, and her work brought food on the table, and since your father was a relatively well-paid weapon manufacturer, you and your sister got to eat dinner every night. It wasn’t always nutritious, and it wasn’t always much, but you looked visibly healthier than most orphans. Not to mention that your mother tailored as a hobby, and sewed clothes for you and Luna.

Not the most realistic orphans, but it never posed an issue. You two always came up with well-thought-out excuses, and you always got away with it because people generally don’t tend to pry in other people’s lives. You never got any questions about your residence either, because it isn’t uncommon for orphans or the homeless to move into abandoned buildings. Nothing is monitored, residency records are a joke , and people just try to survive.

Despite this secret, your parents always watched over you when you left the house. While you played with the kids in your neighborhood, your mother always kept an eye on you from a distance. Nobody ever seemed to notice; she was a sneaky woman. When you came back home, your parents loved to torment you with all kinds of fighting and self-defense lessons. You complained back then, but now you couldn’t be more thankful.

Your father, exceptionally skilled at crafting knives and other dangerous tools, taught you how to make them too. His basement was his sanctuary, still filled to this day with everything you need: stacks of steel, angle grinders, hacksaws, hammers, metal heaters, wooden handles, and so on. For you, making weapons has become something almost therapeutic, even artistic. Some of your knives are so elegant, so beautiful, you can’t bring yourself to use them in a fight.

Maybe if the world wasn’t such a shithole, you would’ve followed in your father’s footsteps and made weapons for a living. Unfortunately, the world is a shithole, and your father forbade it. He recognized the passion in your eyes, and it scared him. It’s a sketchy, illegal, and dangerous business, crawling with savages who don’t have an ounce of respect for women. There isn’t much respect for women in this city in general, so if your father warned you against it, it must be...bad. Not exactly the welcoming environment you would like to surround yourself with. And besides, you can’t risk anyone in the business linking you to your father.

So, instead, you followed in your mother’s footsteps and became a full-time thief. That path gave you the freedom to live alone in the two buildings you now call home. Luna moved out a few years ago to live with her fiancé, Finn. You still miss her sometimes, but honestly? You’re glad she’s not living under your roof anymore. With the risks you take, it’s safer for her if you don’t live together.

Every day, you enter the small apartment you lived in as a child, and secretly sleep in the house your parents used to live in. You’re so incredibly grateful for that now. If ever Levi’s gang somehow manages to follow you home, they still won’t know where you actually sleep. You have good ears; if they would ever try to break into your small apartment, you would hear it immediately, and it would give you time to come up with a plan.

They’ll never catch you. You’re fast, you’re excellent at stealing and running away, and you’re nearly untraceable.

Guess the bastards will simply have to deal with you for the next couple of heists.

Chapter Text

The moment you wake up, a rush of adrenaline floods your body. A good mix of excitement and dread. Today, you finally get to act like a despicable roach again: it’s time to sabotage a new heist.

The sum you stole last time was a lot, but you will need to do this a few more times before you can actually afford your sister’s treatment.

After your success, you decided to wait before planning a second attack. If Levi and his men have anything for brains, they've most likely been a lot more cautious after your first stunt. This poses a problem, because it’s important they're caught off guard. For this reason, you've chosen to wait it out a bit. Unfortunately, waiting too long hasn't been an option, since life is like a ticking bomb, urging you to hurry the hell up already. You've decided to let them organize three robberies before interfering again. Their first two missions were very small anyway, it wouldn’t have helped much to sabotage those. Their last mission was bigger, but not as big as the one that is going to take place today. You just have to hope they think your first sabotage was an anomaly.

In the meantime, two and a half weeks have gone by. That means you've already lost four weeks in total, if you count the time it took to form your plan and perform your first sabotage. The idea you’re already at a third of your time makes you want to take a shovel and bury yourself into the ground until you reach the core of the earth and melt away into nothingness. These merchants better bring a good amount.

With a sigh, you drag yourself out of bed and ready yourself for the day. It’s only when you feel your hands trembling a little as you button up your top, that you realize how nervous you are. You inhale a deep breath and stare at your reflection in the mirror. It will be fine, you tell yourself. It'll be okay, just like last time. You’ll save her. No matter what.

For a moment, you allow yourself to study your features. You look a bit tired from all the anxiousness that’s been simmering inside of you the past few weeks, but it’s nothing too bad considering the circumstances. As your gaze travels over your clothes, you absent-mindedly trace the fabric of your black top and fiddle with the buttons in the middle, which are carved with a discrete silver motif.

Watching yourself in clothing you fabricated on your own fills you with a strange sense of relief. It calms you down, somehow. Partly because it makes you feel more like yourself, and partly because the reminder that raw simple material can always be pieced together into something valuable evokes the illusion that with enough effort, things can almost always be fixed. You've seen the process over and over again: starting with nothing and ending with something priceless, and somehow, the imagery fills you hope. Because even though you didn't have much to start with to save Luna, you'd like to believe that almost anything can be built with a few simple tools and enough patience and creativity.

You briefly wonder if your mother ever saw things this way, too. She is the one who taught you how to sew, and she taught you how to use the skill to your advantage as a thief. In turn, she learned the skill from her own mother, who was a tailor.

Although you've never met your grandmother, you know she collected a wide variety of fabrics throughout her life, and left all the treasures behind for you and your mother to use. Some of her fabrics are undoubtedly expensive, and you highly suspect they are stolen. After all, she had been prosecuted by the Royal family as well, so having a steady income wasn't much of an option. You’ve tried selling the fabrics, but people here are way more interested in basic necessities like food or medicine than expensive-looking pieces of cloth. So instead, you sew your frustrations away whenever you need a distraction, and god knows you’ll need it after this mission.

It's a blessing your mother tried to pass those tailoring skills onto you. Keyword here is ‘tried’, because any seamstress with standards would probably scream in horror when taking a closer look at your stitching. Luckily, nobody who is born in the Underground could ever give a shit about tailoring techniques, so you'll continue to toot your own horn at the sight of your own flawed fabrications.

Deciding you’ve stared at yourself long enough, you proceed with the rest of your routine. As always, you put on various straps to attach your weapons on. For today, you decide to strap one regular knife, and two small throwable knives on your right thigh. On your left thigh, you carry your newly designed throwable weapon: a circular tri-blade throwing star. 

— Because honestly, you better take your finest weapons if you’re going to deal with one of the most dangerous gangs in the Underground.

Finally, you quickly grab your black cape and your face mask. Can’t have any of those brutes recognizing you.

With a deep sigh, you stare at your front door.

Time to put yourself in danger again.

...................

Fuck.

Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribs that you feel like they might break any second from now. With a heaving chest and sweat trickling down your back, you force your legs forward. Without hesitating, you take a quick turn into a dark alley on your right.

They're right behind you.

Just like last time, you successfully managed to grab a part of the treasure trove as they robbed a group of merchants. The difference now, however, is that one of the men started to chase you down. If it wasn’t for your rushing adrenaline and the danger you're in, you probably would’ve found this situation hilarious. A thief chased by another thief, who in turn is chased by one of the merchant’s guards.

You take a quick glance behind you while running as fast as your legs allow. The gang member chasing you down is fuming with rage. Your cocky side is amused and wants to enrage him further for the thrill, your rational side screams at you to run faster.

You take unexpected turns and corners, climb over fences, crawl through tight spaces, but to no avail. Though the guard has lost both of you a long time ago, your direct chaser refuses to let you go. He's undeniably good at parkouring and chasing you down, and it seems he's beyond determined to catch you.

But you're better. You manage to greatly increase the distance between both of you, and it looks like you’re starting to win. He is starting to tire out.

Focusing on your escape, you suddenly recognize where you are. You purposely take a turn to the right, leading you to an alley with a dead end. There’s a waste container pushed against the wall of a relatively small building. Without too much effort, you crawl on top of it and lift yourself onto the roof.

“HEY! Come back here you piece of SHIT!”

You turn around to watch the embodiment of anger stalking towards the container beneath you.

Holding yourself onto the wall, you use all your weight and force to push at it, causing it to tumble down. The gang member behind you curses furiously as he tries to push the container back, but before he has time to crawl onto the roof, you are long gone.

...................

Closing your eyes, you take off your mask and allow your heartbeat to stabilize again. You’re in a small alley, quite far away from the last place your chaser saw you. You deemed this place safe enough when you arrived, so you decided to catch your breath for a bit. All the while, you’ve been straining your ears to make sure no one has been following you. The only thing you still need to do now is switch your outfit. There’s a crate in which you put one of your long vests a couple of streets away, so that’s the only thing left to do.

A feeling of victory and relief floods your body as you allow yourself to relax for the first time. You can’t help the mocking smile spreading across your face as you think about what you just did.

Oh, how they must hate you.

Deciding that rest has overstayed its welcome, you get back on your feet to go perform your final task. Once your outfit will be switched, it will finally be over. You will be unrecognizable again, and safe. You honestly just want to be in the comfort and safety of your home as soon as possible. Crawling in bed with a book and a glass of water sounds heavenly right now.

You’re carefully crossing a broad empty street, when a sudden sound makes your body freeze.

You frown. What is that noise?

Oh fu—

Before you can turn around, a strong force slams into you, knocking all the oxygen out of your lungs. In an eyeblink, your entire body is lifted up in the air. You expect to immediately fall down, but you don’t.

Your brain has no time to process what is going on as you’re harshly thrown on the ground. The impact makes you roll on the floor, causing painful stones and debris to dig into your skin. As you come to a stop and open your eyes, the first thing you notice is that you’re surrounded by darkness. Disoriented and dizzy, you look around. You’re in what must be an abandoned building, a ruin that is on the verge of collapsing. That’s when your eyes dart towards the one source of light that illuminates the room: a big hole in the wall, opening out to the city. To your horror, you see someone standing there, looking at you. Though you can’t really see their face due to the contrasting light of the city behind them, you can make out the form of what can only be ODM gear. It takes you a couple of seconds to understand what just happened: this person used their 3DMG to grab you, lift you up, and throw you inside the higher floors of an abandoned dark ruin.

Suddenly, the shadow takes a step forward.

Your entire body freezes as you recognize him. The one and only person you truly wanted to avoid.

Levi.

You immediately see it, his ice-cold, venomous stare. Your heart drops. You've seen many dangerous people before, made eye contact with criminals who wanted nothing more than to shed your blood, but this is something else. The way he is staring at you is mortifying.

And for some reason, the eye contact brings up a strange feeling of familiarity.

You know this man. You've seen those eyes before.

An old memory resurges in your mind, something you thought you had forgotten a long time ago. You were around nine or ten. You were walking around with your sister, and your mother was at a relatively close distance. Close enough to guard you, but distant enough to make it seem like you weren’t related. As your mother had to stop watching you for a minute to buy some groceries, you noticed a crowd forming a bit further away. Driven by curiosity, you grabbed your sister’s hand and approached the growing crowd. Your mom wouldn’t mind, right? You just wanted to take a quick peep and see what was going on.

As you came closer and merged into the crowd, you saw a boy who looked a bit older than you, probably around thirteen, violently beating up a grown man. Frozen in shock, the only thing you could do was stare. Your parents had always concealed you from the violence of the Underground. Though they had often warned you about it, you hadn’t seen much of it with your own eyes. Up until then. Holding a knife in his hand, the boy was brutally beating the man with no sign of stopping. Some people in the crowd looked disturbed, but most were cheering and seemed to enjoy the view.

You stood there, frozen, staring at his rage, staring at his victim getting violently destroyed. Once the boy had further mutilated him with his knife, and the poor bastard was clearly unconscious, he stopped. Suddenly, his eyes darted into the crowd.

Meeting your eyes.

You remember the shudder of dread as you stared into his murderous gaze. But despite how terrifying his expression was, you remember that for a split second, you found there was something strangely captivating about his eyes. They were an unusual icy blue-ish color that you hadn't often seen before, but that thought only lasted a second because his gaze was beyond terrifying. It scared you to the bone. His attention then darted to somewhere else in the crowd, but you couldn’t see what he was looking at. He then froze, and something about his expression shifted as he stared ahead. You had always wondered what he was looking at that day, but you never found out because your mother was suddenly standing behind you, secretly pinching your shoulder to let you know you were in big trouble for sneaking away.

And now, many years later, you find yourself in front of those same eyes again. You know it’s him. You're sure of it. You’d recognize those eyes in a heartbeat.

The difference this time, however, is that his rage is directly aimed at you.

You gasp in terror as he takes another step forward, causing a jolt of panic to shake you back to reality. You start to crawl back in fear, with the debris of the abandoned ruin painfully digging into your palms. You have no idea why you’re so afraid, but you just feel in every part of your body that he is much more dangerous than anyone else you’ve had to deal with thus far.

Maintaining his vicious gaze on you, he suddenly fastens his pace, darting straight into your direction. Without thinking, your reach for your circular blade and throw it at him with full force. He manages to dodge it by a millisecond, causing the blade to only leave a mere cut on his cheek. His eyes widen, visibly stunned by the fact you nearly managed to kill him. That only lasts about a second, because as he brings his hand to his bloodied jaw, his expression darkens into something so evil and somber that you completely freeze in place. Your blood turns to ice. It feels like the temperature of the room has dropped twenty degrees.

You feel it in every part of your body: he wants to destroy you.

With a sudden move, he bounces forward.

A shriek of horror escapes you as you try to slip away. You quickly reach for the knife on your left thigh, but he's too fast. In a heartbeat, he lifts you up and slams you against the cold wall behind you with full force. You gasp at the impact, but you’re immediately interrupted by an ice-cold hand choking your throat. You helplessly try to struggle away, but to your horror, you notice that he has you completely in his power. He has your right hand pinned against the wall, and his entire body is pushed against yours, making it almost impossible to move. Though he doesn’t have your left hand pinned, you can barely move it with all the force pushing on your shoulder and upper arm.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he hisses in your ear.

Raw dread swallows you whole. You whimper, but it only comes out as a muffled cry as you try to gasp for air. While you’re struggling to breathe, he stares you in the eyes like a predator observing his helpless prey before the kill. Your mind is filled with racing thoughts of panic, and his deadly gaze is only igniting this further. After what feels like an eternity, he slightly loosens his grip on your throat.

Finally having access to oxygen, you gasp for air and pant heavily in a desperate attempt to regulate your breathing. It’s only after a few moments that you finally scrape up the courage to look back into his stabbing, silver eyes.

“You’re the fucking rat who stole from us last time too, aren’t you?” he spits out hatefully.

“Maybe,” you reply with a pretended confidence that is absolutely non-existent. A futile attempt to hide your fear, as if you didn’t just shriek in terror a moment ago.

He pauses and observes you for a moment, and you feel like his gaze is stripping you naked. It’s as if he’s searching for every thought or emotion you might try to hide from him. In a strange moment of insanity that must surely be cause by your shortage of oxygen, you can almost see what you saw when you were a child: something eerily captivating about his eyes that you can't quite place.

But this beautiful epiphany only lasts about a second, because from one moment to the other, he decides to stop the silent staring contest between you two.

“You might be surprised to hear that I didn’t exactly appreciate your filthy little stunt from last time,” he says with poisonous sarcasm. The sharp bitterness in his tone makes the hairs on your neck stand up.

“Maybe I should just give you to my men,” he continues, “I know they’d love to get their revenge on the little pest that’s been disrupting our plans. I could use the laugh anyway.” His voice is creeping with pure maliciousness.

Nevermind. There is absolutely nothing beautiful about this monster.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the exhaustion, but bitter rage starts to swell with each breath you're taking. It’s not like you fucking asked for any of this. You hate being here. You hate him and his gang. You hate that your sister is sick. You hate that you're all alone in this, and that you're the only one who can save the one person you love the most. You hate yourself for letting this animal shred all your confidence and strength in only a fraction of a second. You hate him for making you feel so small.

“FUCK. You.” you hiss with rage and bitterness that surprises even yourself.

He quirks an eyebrow at the unexpected fury in your voice.

The words escape your mouth before you can stop yourself. “And get off your high horse, you’re nothing more than a thief either you hypocritical piece of shi—“

Before you can finish, he removes his hand from your throat and ruthlessly grips your jaw, pushing your head hard against the wall. You grit your teeth as he painfully digs his fingers into your skin.

“That’s a lot of nerve for a weak little brat,” he grunts with a low, dangerous tone.

As you struggle in rage, you feel your left arm gaining slightly more freedom. You keep struggling with all the force you have, though it seems completely useless against his strong grip.

That’s when you both hear it.

A soft snap.

You both freeze, and you suddenly feel a release of pressure around your breasts. What the hell?

Oh.

In a fraction of a second, you realize what happened. You don’t even need to look down to see it.

… Okay so maybe your sewing skills do need a little bit of improvement.

Levi’s eyes dart down to the source of the sound, and his eyes widen in surprise and confusion as he processes that the first button of your top snapped due to your struggling, leaving a not-so-modest part of your breasts exposed.

It only lasts a second, but his grip loosens ever so slightly. A tear in his focus. This is it, the moment to make your move. In an eyeblink, you twist your right wrist in a way you’ve perfected during your years of self-defense training, freeing your hand from his grip. Before he can pin your hand back, you dig your nails with full force into his Adam’s apple. He makes a choking guttural sound, and you seize this opportunity to release your left arm and twist his hand off your chin. With both hands free, you give him a hard kick in the stomach and harshly push him away to escape.

Before you even manage to take two steps forward, a strong grip grabs you by the waist. A shriek escapes you as you’re violently pushed into the ground. You roll around to face him, but before you can do anything, he is already on top of you. With fury in his eyes, he ruthlessly pins your wrists above your head.

“You're so fucking dead,” he grunts with boiling rage.

You stare straight into his murderous eyes. Frozen. Breath stuck in your throat. You're so frightened you can't even scream.

He looks at you like he is about to skin you alive, and you genuinely don’t think you’ve ever been this terrified of someone before.

Your eyes dart towards his throat. The marks of your nails are clearly visible, and blood is streaming down to his collarbone. You swallow in fear. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone for such a painful spot, he’s going to annihilate you now.

Moving at an alarming speed, he reaches for his knife in his pocket, leaving only one hand pinning you down. In a reflex, you take this opportunity to twist your hand free and launch for his arm, which is already holding the knife. Making use of your momentum, you push his arm away and roll on top of him. This is followed by an annoyed grunt beneath you. With the impact, Levi’s knife falls on the ground, at an arm's length away from you. You reach for it as fast as you can.

But he’s faster.

Before you know it, he has your wrist in his grip. You gasp and try to break your hand free with all the power you have left, but he’s clearly much stronger.

A rough hand grips your neck. In one swift move, he pulls you back and rolls on top of you again, pinning both your hands above your head once more.

You hopelessly try to break free, but he effortlessly holds you down while watching you with murderous eyes. After a few moments of struggling, you realize it’s pointless. The only thing you're doing at this point is rubbing yourself against his body. The thought makes you slightly embarrassed, and you resort to sighing in defeat.

“You done?” he asks coldly.

You don’t answer.

Putting his weight on one hand again, he slips his other hand downwards. You try to use this to break free again, but this time, your hands don’t budge.

“Really thought that was going to work again?” he scoffs, sounding truly pissed off.

You feel his hand in your cape. With a surprised frown, you look down to see what he is doing. That’s when you see him slipping out the bag of money you stole earlier.

You look at him with furious eyes. It hurts more than you’d like to admit, seeing all your efforts going down the drain. Sure, it is his to take. You leeched off of them after all. Nevertheless, there is no denying that it took you a lot of effort to stalk, spy, and prepare for your attack. What breaks your heart the most though, is that you desperately need this money. Every step back is a step closer to your sister’s death.

Unbothered, Levi proceeds to slowly slide his hand towards your thigh.

You frown. What is he—

“You won’t be needing this anymore either,” he explains with a mocking tone, as he slides your big knife, and your two small throwable knives out of your thigh straps. He does it slowly to piss you off more. Your eyes widen as he puts all your belongings in his own pockets.

Fucking asshole.

Though you aren’t particular attached to your small throwable knives, you do care about your bigger knife. It’s one of the few weapons you’ve had for a very long time. You made it with your father nine years ago, when he was teaching you how to make pocket knives. For this one in particular, he added a little design to it. A beautiful flower on the wooden handle that he made just for you. He wanted to teach you the beauty and art of weapon design. With a sharp pain, you remember his warm smile.

At this, something inside of you explodes. Your temper bursts open, and all the hopelessness, anger, sadness, and fright you’ve been feeling the past few weeks flood together and turn into raw, burning rage. You lose all control. Maybe you really have lost your mind after all.

“I’ll fucking KILL you,” you growl in anger, slamming your feet at full force on the floor, causing the ground beneath you to tremble in return.

“Oi, shut the FUCK up,” he snaps, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Trust, you’ll have much more to cry about once I’m finished with you, you insolent brat.”

Suddenly, both of you freeze.

What is that noise?

A soft creak?

You focus your hearing. You hear harder creaks, and what sounds like hard materials sliding against each other. In a flash, Levi looks upward, his eyes widening. He suddenly bounces off of you.

That’s when you see it.

A part of the ceiling is… falling.

Straight onto you.

A sharp scream escapes your throat. You barely process the sudden force dragging you across the floor. For a moment, the only thing you feel is your raging heartbeat exploding in your chest.

... Are you still alive?

You slowly open your eyes and blink. It takes you a few seconds to realize what you’re looking at: a pile of huge rocks and broken wooden planks, resting exactly where you were lying just a second ago. In shock, you look at Levi standing right behind you.

Did … did he just save your life?

You don’t have time to linger on this. In a swift move, you bounce on your feet as more creaking and scratching noises are starting to echo through the dark ruin. It doesn't only come from above you but from beneath you as well.

It turns out that the fight between you two, and your raging stomp to top it off, just started a chain of events. The moment you landed here, you had immediately noticed the building was on the verge of collapsing, but you didn’t actually think it would.

“Shit,” Levi hisses through his teeth behind you.

Suddenly, a loud noise tears from right above, making you bounce forward in a reflex. A loud crashing noise explodes right behind you, and when you turn around, you gasp at the sight of the two massive planks you managed to dodge just in time. Levi is standing right behind them, having bounced backward to dodge them too.

And now you two stand there, with debris and rotten planks between you, eyes snapping up to each other at the same time.

You have two options. You can either go with Levi, as he has his 3DMG and could jump out of the building through the opening you came in. The opening is only a couple of steps behind him, so that would definitely work. However, this would just guarantee your inevitable doom.

Your second option is to take the risk and try to run out of the building yourself using the stairs behind you.

You choose the latter. You would much rather get crushed under a bunch of rocks than get tortured and humiliated to death by a group of brutes.

Levi must realize your thought process, because he suddenly darts forward to grab you. But with the debris separating you two, you’re at an advantage. You immediately launch yourself back towards the stairs. Sharp panic jolts through your body as you hear his footsteps right behind you. He clearly isn’t planning on letting you go this easily. Heart hammering in your chest, you stumble down the stairs. This is followed by a loud noise of falling debris right behind you, mixed with the sound of Levi’s mumbled cursing. Without looking back, you run down the flight of stairs. You don’t hear him behind you anymore, and you can only assume he was stopped by the falling debris behind you.

Did he get crushed?

You don’t have time to linger on this, you need to get out of this hell as fast as possible.

When you reach the last set of stairs, the surface beneath you collapses. With a screech, you feel your weight dropping, but you manage to grab onto the surrounding set of planks just in time. It takes you a second to realize you just stepped on a rotten plank, which collapsed underneath your feet. With all the strength you have left, you haul yourself out of the hole, and stumble towards the exit as fast as you can.

Pulse pounding like a jackhammer, you try to distance yourself from the building as fast as you can by running through small dark alleys. You quickly look for a place to hide. You find a big wooden crate resting against a broken building and crawl into it.  Finally feeling somewhat safe and hidden inside, you try to catch your breath. You didn’t really hear any 3DMG noises when you ran outside. Did he even make it out alive? If you’re lucky, he didn’t. But you can’t risk walking out in the open right now, as he might be hunting you down from the sky. But here, safely hidden in your little crate, he won’t find you. You try to control your breathing, but the panic in your chest seems untamable. Before you can stop it, warm tears roll down your cheeks as all the events flash before your eyes again and again. With an exhausted sigh, you close your eyes.

Who knows how many hours you will stay hidden this time?

Chapter Text

You crawl out of bed with a painful wince. For a brief moment, you stare at yourself in your old, broken mirror. You look like shit. Tumbling down on painful debris, violently getting slammed against hard surfaces, wreckage falling on you during the collapse — all of yesterday’s events have left your body bruised and tired. The worst is that the fruits of your labor have mercilessly been snatched away from you. You lost everything.

Reluctantly, you force yourself into your daily routine. Brushing your teeth, warming up some water on the stove for a quick bath, putting clothes on, and eating a sad piece of bread with canned soup. All the while, only one thought haunts your mind: what now?

You'd be lying if you said yesterday’s events haven't freaked you out. It all got a little too close for your liking. Though you would love to pretend you’re some sort of fearless heroine, you're far from that. All you can see is deadly grey eyes, piercing through you and eager to put an end to your life. He has ODM gear, he can easily chase you down from above, and something tells you that hunting is one of his many specialties.

So what on earth are you supposed to do now?

You hate that one encounter has sucked all the motivation and determination out of you, but you can’t help it. Fate has apparently decided to play a cruel little game on you: the same person who had scared you to the bone as a child, who had unintentionally introduced you to raw violence for the first time, is now your arch nemesis.

Wonderful.

You feel lost. You’re in this alone, and right now, you just wish you had someone who could lead the way.

After a couple of hours of pondering, walking in circles, and cursing at yourself for being so weak, you decide to go visit your sister. You just need a familiar face right now, a distraction. Maybe also a hit of reality.

Making sure you aren’t being followed, you make your way down the dirty streets of the city, towards the house you’re so familiar with. Once you arrive, you knock two times, and it only takes a couple of seconds for the door to swing open.

You're immediately met with Finn's surprised, but cheerful smile. “Hey you!” he beams, relief apparent in his tone, “I was already wondering when I'd see you again. We were starting to get worried here, it’s almost been two weeks!”

Finn is right. You usually never disappear for this long. You told yourself that you just didn’t have time, that you were too busy finding a way to pay for the treatment. In reality though, if you are truly being honest with yourself, you know damn well you purposely avoided this place. It’s selfish, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to watch your sister slowly deteriorate.

Your attention shifts to Finn’s features. His brown locks look rough and dry. The color is drained out of his skin, and his dark eyebags only accentuate this. He's noticeably skinnier than the last time you saw him, and his features are traced with lines of exhaustion. A painful wave of guilt washes over you, and you can’t help but embrace him in a hug. Your quick movements startle him for just a second, but he quickly regains his composure and tightly holds you in his embrace. You can actually feel your heart breaking. He feels much bonier than before, and you wonder how much food he has been sacrificing to spare money for your sister. The worst part is that you both know he could stop eating for years, and he still wouldn't reach the required sum. Part of you wants to shake him awake, telling him he needs to stop and just take care of himself. The other part of you perfectly understands this is what he needs to do to ease his conscience. You're no different, risking your health and your life the way you do.

After giving you one last warm squeeze, he lets go and leads you inside. “Luna, it’s your sister!” he announces while knocking on the bedroom door, slowly opening it.

You swallow at the sight. She looks so much worse than last time. She must notice your pained and shocked expression, because she immediately sits straight and forces herself to look alive and energetic.

Typical of her. Always trying to make others feel better.

“Lulu...” Her nickname comes out as a pained whisper. You can almost feel the tears coming up.

“Hey, why the sad face? Come in, you bugger. Give me a hug!”

You crack a saddened smile and storm in, tightly hugging her frail body. You could cry at how fragile she feels in your arms.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you for a while. You better not be putting yourself in any danger,” she mumbles in your neck while tracing soft circles on your back. She knows well enough that you are. She has known you for way too long to think you would just sit back and watch her die.

When she gently pulls back and looks at you, you give her a warm smile. “Don’t worry about me, I—“

You’re interrupted by a sudden frown. She traces her hands over your cheek with worry in her expression. “Your face is bruised. What happened?”

You quickly pull away and sit back on the chair beside her bed. “Don’t worry about me, just the usual stuff,” you wave off dismissively while smiling in an attempt to soothe her concerns.

She lifts a brow. “Yeah I don’t believe any of that. Confess or I’ll whoop your ass.”

You snort into laughter. “You? Whooping MY ass? Careful who you’re talking to.” You pause for a moment before continuing with a more serious tone. “No, honestly Lulu, don’t worry about it. You know I’m careful and I take care of myself. When did you ever have to be concerned about me?”

“I'm always concerned about you,” she mutters, but not without a little smile forming on her lips.

You take her hand and give her a warm squeeze. With a sigh, she decides to let it go. You know she’s fully aware she can’t do anything about it anyway. The best thing she can do is trust you.

“Do you two want anything? Something to drink or to eat maybe?” Finn interjects behind you.

“I’d love some hot water if it’s not too much trouble,” you tell him with a thankful smile.

The Underground’s equivalent of tea. To be honest, you have tasted tea, and hot water isn’t that far from it. It’s almost just as soothing, and soothing you need.

“I’ll take three cups,” he says enthusiastically before turning on his heels.

“I brought something for you.” You rumble through your bag and hand your sister an old book. “Found it while I was cleaning the house. I thought it was long gone, but apparently it was laying on top of our bookshelf.”

She takes the book, her eyes widening in excitement. “Oh my God that was my favorite one!!” Her voice almost comes out as a squeak. You can’t help but laugh at her excitement. The old energetic Luna you’ve always known is back.

“I know. How could I ever forget your years of rambling about the characters of that book? Utter pain in the ass.”

She grins back at you and skips through parts of the book. With excitement, she reminds you of specific chapters she used to torment you with as a child, but your mind is already wandering somewhere else.

You can’t let her go. There’s no fucking way. You would drag yourself through the darkest pits of hell before giving up on her.

Finn walks in and hands you a hot cup of water before getting further assaulted by Luna’s adorable rambling. Letting the hot liquid soothe you, you start to think about what to do next.

What are your options? Switching to another gang?

No. First of all, if what Gary said is correct, there is no other group that organizes such big operations so frequently. Chances are high it will already be too late by the time one of the other gangs performs a worthy heist. Second of all, it had taken you many days to track down Levi’s gang and spy on them. You can’t afford to lose that amount of time again. It only takes one glance at the frail body lying in front of you to know you don’t have much time left. You don’t have the margin to start targeting a new group.

Third, a part of you is hungry for revenge. Maybe it isn’t the most rational emotion to be feeling right now, but you hate how that execrable thug successfully managed to make you feel so small.

“Weak little brat.”

Yeah right. Maybe it’s time to show him what you’re made of. The more you think back on it, the more your blood starts to boil. It’s not that he didn’t have the right to lash onto you, but you are not going to let him crush you this easily. A part of you wants nothing more than to prove him wrong and to make him furious. You just weren’t prepared enough, you naively left the 3DMG out of the equation. You just need a better plan. Surely, there has to be a way, right?

You glance at Luna and Finn. It looks like life has chewed them up and spit them out, but they’re still strongly holding on.

“If you don’t learn to face your fears, the Underground will crush you. Keep fighting, always.”

You clench your fists. You’ll be damned before letting that piece of shit stand in the way of your goals — in the way of your family’s wellbeing. This isn’t the first time you are in a dangerous situation, and it won’t be the last.

He thinks he can stop you?

Let’s see him try.

Chapter Text

Day by day, you stalk the loudmouth while purposely avoiding the headquarters as much as possible. Though you know you’re a good spy, you prefer steering clear of the raven-haired savage as much as you can. Nothing you pick up seems interesting at first. Insignificant robberies, vague deals with other gangs, the loudmouth’s incredible success at conquering ladies who, in fact, do not exist. There's nothing that piques your interest, nothing that can yield the money you need, or that can help you circumvent the 3DMG problem.

After nearly two weeks, you start to lose hope. Every day, you try to pickpocket on the side, but as expected, it barely contributes to your end goal. Just a mere crumb to soothe your conscience at best. The gnawing feeling that you're getting nowhere is getting harder to push away every day, which causes you to turn increasingly more anxious as time goes by. Nothing is coming out of your spying work, and nothing significant is coming out of your side jobs.

It is then, the moment you're about to give up and rummage for a new plan, that you catch the whispers. A new big heist in about a week. Not only that, but it's going to happen right next to the infamous underground tunnels of this city. No one truly knows the history of these tunnels or why they’re there, all that is known is that most people refuse to set foot there. It is a place for shady deals and illegal trading, a place no normal citizen has any business wandering in. The darkness and complexity of these tunnels is all but welcoming, and it’s mostly used as an inspiration to invent scary tales amongst children.

The idea of wandering in these caves doesn't have you particularly bubbling in delight, but you know it's a potentially good solution to the flying-Levi problem. The huge tunnel network has many exits, meaning that if you would enter those caves, Levi would have no idea where you'd come out. You don’t know much about 3DMG, but you’re certain he can't follow you with it in those corridors either.

This is the perfect opportunity, and maybe your only one.

You have one week to prepare. It isn’t much, but you know that if you work day and night, you can get it done. Needless to say, it takes you quite some self pep-talk.

C’mon you can do it.

If anything, the darkness will give you an advantage. You have excellent eyes compared to regular people.

Don’t be such a whimp.

You’re not going to let that Levi fucker win, are you?

Stop being a baby, it’s just a bunch of corridors and tunnels.
….. pitch dark tunnels.
      ….. in which many people have disappeared.
            ….. and where only the shadiest thugs dare to set foot.

Okay but that’s not the POINT.

After many internal debates, you somehow manage to scrape up enough courage to drag yourself into the caverns. But as soon as you reach the entrance and go down the stairs to enter the maze, the regret starts to hit. The cold stone walls and the endless corridors make you beyond uncomfortable, and you wish nothing more than to return to the surface and crawl back to the safety of your own bed. This thought becomes particularly prominent whenever you come across corridors that end in pitch-black darkness. Straight from a horror story, really. Your mind is constantly playing games with you, imagining demonic monstrosities waiting for you at the end of the tunnels. The scary tales you were told as a child about this place are not helping.

But your determination is stronger than your fear, and you don't have a choice anyway.

While wandering into the dark, silent tunnels, you decide that the first thing you need to do is to discover and memorize the subterranean maze.

Which is not going to be fun. Frankly, it’s fucking terrifying.

You get lost many times, leaving you sobbing and praying to every existing deity that might hear you to please spare you from dying in these dark tunnels alone. Just not like this, please. Maybe those melodramatic pleads do work, because you always seem to find your way back somehow. You find that if you just keep walking, you eventually end up finding an exit. Though you never get to the point of being fully at ease, it all becomes less terrifying as you get more and more familiar with the tunnels. At one point, you even start to prefer the darker parts of the caverns compared to the well-lit areas. At least there, you know you're safely hidden in the shadows. Not that this contributes to much, really, because there aren’t many people in the tunnels anyway. The times you do come across people, you hear them way before they can notice you. On two occasions, you come across drunk men wandering around for reasons you truly cannot fathom. Good luck finding the exit, boys. At one point, you also catch a shady deal between two suspicious individuals. And though you'd love to listen to what fucked up things they're up to, you're fully aware you don't have the time, so you keep working on memorizing the caverns instead.

It takes you a little more than three days to memorize the tunnel network.

...Well, you don't bother to memorize everything.

Some areas are way too complex, so you just decide you'll have to steer clear of those parts during your mission. Still, the majority of the maze is memorized, which allows you to decide on possible escape routes.

After that is done, you start with part two of the plan: setting traps. After all, there’s a high chance that at least one of the men will start chasing you down. You’re a pretty decent runner, but you’re also fully aware that highly trained thieves such as the ones in Levi's gang are generally faster. This usually doesn't form too much of a problem in the city, because you can use your surroundings to your advantage. But in empty tunnels and corridors, there isn’t much you can make use of. This means that in order to successfully guarantee your escape, you have to create your advantages.

For this reason, you decide to create traps. The idea is to stack empty crates, barrels, and boxes on top of each other, and to wrap them in rope. The rope allows you to easily pull at them and have the entire stack tumbling down. If someone is right behind you, it falls on them. If someone is at a further distance, it’s still useful, because the fallen boxes and barrels can act as an obstacle to slow them down.

After deciding on all the strategic places you can possibly place your traps, you get to actually bringing them there. Much easier said than done, because holy shit, it’s an absolute pain in the butthole. You’re not particularly the most muscular gal around, and dragging an endless amount of heavy wooden crates and barrels to the tunnels has your muscles aching for days. Not to mention that all the noise this is making has you completely on edge at all times. Oh, and let’s not even get started on the moments you actually have to stack the crates and barrels on top of each other. Yes, on multiple occasions, you slip, and barrels and crates fall on top of you. And no, you don’t want to comment on how hilariously pathetic that must look, or how this leaves a concerning number of bruises on your skin.

After a week of blood, sweat, and tears (literally), you're finally done. Just in time. Though the entire preparation has left you exhausted, you’re more than ready for what’s about to come.

From what you've gathered, this heist is going to be more… interesting than the last two. This time, Levi is actually going to send one of the poor bastards flying. Well, ‘poor bastards’ really isn’t the right term here. You have absolutely zero sympathy for the barbarians who are going to organize the trade this time, and honestly, you hope Levi will accidentally let his “victim” fall. The traders are part of a sex trafficking business, and the money that is going to be exchanged during this trade is related to that. You don’t know the details, but you do know that the seller is from here, while the buyer is from above-ground.

You've always been vaguely aware that young people, and mainly orphans, are sold to the rich above-surface. A revolting business that is hidden from the public, particularly from the upsiders. However, hearing about this human trafficking first-hand has made your stomach turn. It happens everywhere, all the time, and the fact you can't do anything to protect the children and young adults who fall victim to this inhumane business fills you with unbearable guilt and rage. It’s infuriating how people consider Titans to be the only enemies, when in reality, there are just as many monsters inside the walls. Some of those brutes are contained within this city, as everyone knows, and others are sipping expensive wine in their grandiose gardens, hidden behind their excessive wealth. It is a horrendous vicious cycle: they keep this city poor and corrupt, and in turn, they can dehumanize the citizens and use them as they please.

These thoughts have been polluting your mind ever since you've heard the details from the loudmouth, but you've been forcing yourself to focus on your mission nonetheless. At least you’re going to be able to rob them. It’s not much, it’s an insignificant contribution in the grand scheme of things, but you will gladly partake in their suffering.

The gang’s plan goes as follows. There will be four men doing the trade: the seller with his guard, and the buyer with his guard. The buyer is coming with a suitcase filled with bags of money. Apparently, it’s common for buyers to open their suitcase to prove that it's filled with real, actual cash. Since it opens with an unknown code, the gang decided it would be easiest to attack the moment it is unlocked. Essentially, Levi will kidnap the man holding the suitcase the moment he opens it. As Levi will drag him across the sky, the bags of money will fall out. For the first time in your life, you will literally see money falling from the sky.

You highly suspect Levi came up with this ludicrous plan for his own entertainment, because surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to just force the man to give out the code. But no, evidently, they have to come up with this absurd plan to humiliate the traffickers further. Not that you’re complaining; you’re more than glad you'll have the pleasure of seeing those scum screaming and getting dragged through the sky while their precious bags of money fall out of their suitcases.

Absolutely ridiculous.

Evidently, the three remaining men won’t just peacefully stand by doing nothing, so three gang members are tasked to seize them. The two remaining members will have the honor of collecting the fallen bags of money.

Well, two members plus you.

Are you ballsy or just crazy? Who knows, perhaps both. Your plan is to give them a little helping hand while they collect the bags of cash. If you’re lucky, the three thieves who are responsible for keeping the traders hostage won’t dare to chase you down in fear of letting the traders escape. If you’re unlucky, they will just slit their throats and hunt you down. You don’t really know what they’re planning to do with these traffickers, but from what you’ve heard from the loudmouth, Levi is apparently not too keen on letting them live.

You will just have to hope luck will be on your side this time.

...................

Faster. GO FASTER.

Your heart is painfully thumping against your ribs. Your legs are burning, protesting against what you’re putting them through. Your muscles are already getting tired, most likely due to the exhaustion of the past week. The unreliability of your own body only spikes your adrenaline and fear, and all you hear are your loud heaving breaths and the thundering footsteps behind you.

Suddenly, there’s an additional sound. A distant metallic, zipping sound.

Oh GOD, not the fucking zipping sound.

Five men are sprinting behind you. Just as you had feared, three of them just killed the traffickers in cold blood, in favor of chasing you down. The gang didn’t even give you time to process the slaughter or to feel victorious about your sabotage. The heavy bag of money in your cape was instantly forgotten the moment they all decided to chase you down in unison.

But the five men aren’t the true reason you’re so terrified. No, the real problem is that you already hear him approaching.

He’s coming to get you. Coming to capture you just as he did with the bastard earlier.

Your eyes are fixed on the entrance of the caverns ahead while you force your legs forward as fast as you physically can. The trade occurred a bit further from the caverns than you initially expected, and you’re honestly not so sure you’re going to make it anymore. With the distant sound of 3DMG approaching by the second, you could combust from all the raging panic and adrenaline rushing through your body.

“She’s going straight to the tunnels!” one of them yells behind you. 

No shit, and you don’t doubt Levi has already figured that out, and that he has no intentions of letting you go through with it.

You don’t know if you’ve ever sprinted this fast before, because despite your exhaustion, your raging adrenaline somehow gets you to the entrance in only a few moments. The sound of ODM gear is so close behind that there’s no way of telling if you’re actually going to make it. Gritting your teeth, you have no choice but to leap down the stairs, risking to break your neck in the process.

Your heart sinks as you hear the metallic sound rushing right behind you, but it’s only as you’re painfully falling down the stairs that you realize Levi missed you. He missed you by a hair. If you hadn’t risked breaking your spine, he would’ve caught you.

You’re panting on the ground, limbs aching from the fall, but relieved it worked. The taste of glory is short-lived though, because you already hear loud footsteps approaching the entrance at a rapid speed. Wincing in pain, you crawl back on your feet and push yourself forward.

The time this takes comes at a cost, because the five men are right on your heels again. They’re way too close, you realize in horror, and the panic that is rushing through your body makes it hard to remember the routes you planned.

With a heaving chest and heavy stumps echoing behind you, you try your hardest to still your panic and focus on the plan. After a several heartbeats, your memory jolts back. You take a well-calculated turn to the right and frantically pull at the trap waiting behind the corner. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s falling on one of your chasers, because the loud sound of tumbling crates is accompanied by angry grunts and cursing.

You continue running, and it takes a few moments before the thundering steps start echoing behind you again. The seconds you just won are precious, because you’re two corridors ahead now. This means they can’t see you anymore, and they can only go by the sound of your footsteps. You already start to feel your speed decreasing because of your tired legs, but luckily, you took this into account when planning your route. You’re already at a new trap again, and you forcefully pull at it.

You keep running, taking unexpected turns, and pulling at traps. Every time, the distance between you and your chasers increases.

To your relief, the cat and mouse game doesn’t last very long, because your obstacles are working even better than you had initially expected. You’re so far ahead that you’re almost certain they won't be able to find you. Their angry voices are mere distant echoes at this point, and you can barely decipher what they’re saying anymore.

You arrive at the darker parts of the tunnels. This is something you planned on purpose. After a good amount of running, you would fall back on your stealth. This is to regain your energy, and to make absolutely certain they will never be able to trace you back. As you slow down your pace, you try to control your heavy panting. If you want to be stealthy in the dark, you ought to relax your harsh breaths, and though it takes a frustratingly long time to relax, you eventually end up like a silent, sly cat.

You can’t afford to advance too slowly, though. If you stay too long inside the caverns, the gang will have the time to call for backup. There's no doubt they would block all exits, and if that happens, you’re trapped.

Slightly on edge but with a focus as sharp as a blade, you keep slinking through the dark tunnels until you're almost at the exit. When planning your route, you purposely chose an exit that mouths into an extremely tight alley. It’s so slim that you're about a hundred percent certain it’s impossible to fly through with ODM gear. The alley is surrounded by tall abandoned buildings, one in which you have strategically hidden clothes for a quick outfit switch. If you manage to get out of that building without being seen, there's no way they will find you again. Even if Levi scans the area from above, he won’t be able to recognize you, and you will simply blend into the crowd.

The dim light of the exit is visible as you silently sneak through the last corridor. But before taking the final turn, you keep your back on the cold stone wall and strain your ears. You don’t hear anyone at the exit. It's safe. With a faint feeling of relief, you turn around the corner.

That’s when your heart drops.

There’s a shadow blocking the exit.

Though you can’t make out any facial features due to the contrasting city light behind them, you recognize the shadow's form in a heartbeat.

It’s him.

He’s waiting for you.

You’re frozen in fear, but you quickly come back to your senses and silently back down.

But it’s too late. You suddenly hear Levi thundering towards you at an alarming speed. You almost let out a shriek of terror as you turn around and run back to the depths of the tunnels.

Your heart hammers uncontrollably as his thumping steps echo behind you, seemingly faster than your own. Chilling dread rages through your entire body, drowning your mind in waves of panic. How the fuck did he know you were going to be there? You suppose you should’ve known a sharp mind like his would be able to predict your thought process. The exit you chose was the safest considering your situation, and he must have realized that. You curse yourself for letting this detail slip past you. You underestimated him, again.

Running for your life, you try to shake him off by taking unexpected turns, but to your horror, you notice it takes him no effort to hunt you down. It’s as if every single time, he knows what your next move will be.

Blind terror races inside of you as he keeps coming closer and closer, and it's clear that if you don’t do something soon, he will catch you.

You suddenly realize where you are, and almost in a reflex, you take a calculated turn to the left. Without thinking, you reach for the trap waiting at the corner and send it tumbling down. The loud scattering noises behind you echo in the dark halls as you keep forcing your legs forward. You glance back for just a second. He crawls over your obstacle with surprisingly little effort. Still, it does slow him down.

You're more than a corridor ahead before he gets back on his feet, and you take this opportunity to dart towards another trap. Levi has no choice but to crawl over it again, and with that, you manage to distance yourself even more. You continue running with every last bit of energy you have, but you can't seem to shake him off.

A fresh bolt of panic hits you as you realize you’re completely off track, and you’ve entered an area you didn’t even bother to put traps. You're now running in one of the extremely complex parts of the caves you swore yourself you'd avoid at all costs. You didn't even bother to memorize this place. 

Without traps, he will catch up, and he will catch up fast.

You almost whimper out loud. You have to think. THINK.

But it's so hard to think when you're running for your life and a predator is hunting you down, ready to destroy you. All you can think about is his footsteps behind you.

As if driven by a natural survival instinct, a sudden idea hits you. You could actually use this to your advantage. The tunnels are becoming much shorter and much more complex, but it could actually be your one and only way out of this mess. The turns, the twists, the way the tunnels are short and mouth into each other in the most chaotic way... perfect for hide and seek.

It's pitch-dark where you are. You can barely see your hands in front of you. You could fall back on your stealth again. Though Levi is relatively close, you're still a few short corridors ahead and he can't see you; he can only locate you through sound.

And you can remove that sound.

You haven’t been running for too long. You still have your breathing under control. If you’re sly enough, you can escape.

Following your instincts, you switch tactics and stop running the moment you reach the intersection of two short tunnels. There are three ways you can go, and if you're silent, he won't have a clue which way you went. You soundlessly slink into the right tunnel.

Dread starts to gnaw your insides as you hear his thundering footsteps coming closer and closer at an alarming speed, but you force yourself to keep going slowly. You need to be as silent as possible, or else it's over. You're already at the end of your tunnel, and with every turn you make, the chances of him finding you grow slimmer.

You swallow thickly when his steps come to a halt. Sweat begins to crawl down your spine as you realize he caught on. He's switching to your tactic as well.

You close your eyes and focus on your hearing, but to no avail.

You hear nothing.

Fucking nothing.

Utter and complete silence, save for your pounding heart.

Your hearing is better than the average, yet you can’t detect a single echoing sound coming from close by. Apparently, you’re not the only one who has a talent for silently sneaking around like a cat.

You’re not sure what’s scarier: hearing him sprinting behind you, or not hearing him at all.

...Definitely the latter. This makes you beyond uneasy.

You're like a blind prey. You have no idea where your hunter is, and quite frankly, you have no idea how far his capabilities go. If you don’t get out of here soon, he will find you eventually.

With sweat tracing down your back, you slink forward, carefully distributing your weight in such a way to make no sound. Though this part of the caverns is an absolute maze, you do remember you’re quite close to an exit. Unfortunately, you have no idea how to get there. You genuinely have no clue where you are. Though this is beyond concerning, not all hope is lost yet. The good thing about the extreme darkness is that you would notice the light of the exit once you’re relatively close by.

You have no choice but to keep going forward.

If you’re lucky, you’ll find the exit soon.

If you’re not, well…

...Let’s not think about that for now.

You keep blindly slinking and creeping through the tunnels, consumed by complete darkness and quietness. It's beyond terrifying to aimlessly wander in a seemingly infinite dark maze, and the only thing you can think about is what fate might lie ahead of you if luck decides to leave you hanging again. Every single time you take a random turn, a spike of adrenaline rushes through you. What if you accidentally bump into him? 

You close your eyes again and strain your ears, but you still can’t hear a thing. How long have you been sneaking around in silence? Ten minutes? More? 

Fuck fuck FUCK. Not only are you haunted by the fear of the unknown, having absolutely zero clue where Levi is at, but you're also starting to run out of time. If you don't get out soon, the gang members will be waiting at the exits. You planned it all so well, yet everything is going so horribly wrong. You curse yourself for underestimating Levi again. This miscalculation might literally be the death of you.

A sudden jolt of hope hits you as you notice that the end of the tunnel isn't as dark as where you are now. There’s a light source. You’re close to the exit.

You follow the light with newfound determination. Holding your heart, you continue sneaking towards your stairs of freedom, feeling more and more hopeful with every turn.

You recognize your environment again the moment you're nearly at the exit. A huge wave of relief washes over you as you silently slink through the tunnel that directly leads to it. Only a couple of meters forward, and the stairs will be directly on your right.

Suddenly, you feel hesitant. If Levi is waiting for you on the stairs of the exit, you’re dead. There's no way to see if someone is on the stairs from this angle, so you could be walking straight into a trap.

Pursing your lips, you stop to listen intently.

You shriek in surprise as something flashes at you at full speed, exploding into a loud crashing sound right next to your ear. Your eyes widen in utter shock as you realize there’s a knife stuck on the wall, right next to your face. Your throwable knife.

Your eyes flash to where the knife came from, and your heart shrivels.

Levi is just standing there, frighteningly still, at the end of the corridor perpendicular to the one you’re in. He's a mere shadow in the darkness of the tunnel, a black silhouette ready to catch you.

He almost killed you.

You're immediately pulled out of your shocked state when he approaches you at a rapid speed.

Your body cold with dread, you try to lunge forward and run for the exit, but something yanks you back. The knife. It’s caught in your cape, pinning you to the wall. You try to pull again but it won’t budge.

Icy panic tears inside you as you hear his footsteps coming closer. You have no choice but to quickly detach your cape. In one swift move, you take the money out of your pocket as well. You’re not going to lose that again.

The extra second this takes is nearly fatal because he's right behind you now. You can almost feel his breath in your neck as you sprint to the stairs. He will catch you any second from now.

Though it isn’t visible from this angle, you purposely placed a trap on the stairs of every exit, which may be your only chance of escape.

You manage to reach the stairs, but just as you swiftly turn around the corner and pull at the crates waiting there, Levi's hand ruthlessly grabs your arm. The crates almost crush you, but thanks to your momentum, they fall on him instead. The impact causes his grip to loosen, and using all your force, you manage to pull away. With a panting chest and with raging adrenaline seeping through your veins, you frantically run up the stairs. Your heart hammers so loudly in your ears that you almost miss the cursing coming from behind you. Something along the lines of “fucking cunt.”

Without looking back once, you sprint towards your freedom and dart into the safety of the city.

...................

You’re collapsed on your couch, body completely limp from exhaustion.

What a fucking day.

After the heist, you creeped on your favorite secret spot to inspect the surroundings of your house for hours on end. Just the usual stuff. This time, however, you might have gone a little overboard. You waited for what, four hours? With how fucked up intense this mission was, you couldn’t help it. Can’t really be too careless, honestly. Levi was pretty darn close behind when you left him on the stairs.

The hours of tensely waiting around have successfully sucked every last bit of energy from your body. You feel like an old, crusty drape now, lifelessly hanging over your couch. For the hundredth time, you let the events of the day flash through your mind.

Yep, you're going to have nightmares about that for weeks. It's terrifying how close you got to dying this time. You can't believe that monster almost managed to brutally pierce your skull with your own damn knife.

Looking back, grabbing the money out of your cape was reckless as hell, but now, you’re so damn glad you did it.

Speaking of that, you haven’t even counted the money yet. You've been too shaken up to even think about your victory.

Your gaze travels to the bag of cash sitting on your table. You reach for it, and sit up straight as you stare at the contents of the bag.

Your heart jumps. Holy shit. It looks like a lot again.

With newfound eagerness, you start counting the money.

With every banknote you add to the count, the excitement within you increases tenfold.

Holy fuck.

You stare at the sum in disbelief.

This can't be real. It’s so much more than you expected. Together with the money of your first expedition, and the little bit of savings you still have from your side missions, you almost have enough to get your sister saved.

Warm tears of happiness and relief roll down your cheeks. Maybe it’s because you’re finally letting out the shriveling anxiety you've been feeling for the past ten hours, but you find yourself uncontrollably laughing and crying in disbelief.

You don’t even remember ever holding this much money. Maybe you’re blessed after all.

You know you shouldn’t cheer too soon because you still need to sabotage one or two more heists, maybe even three if you’re unlucky. Pretty bad situation considering how close things got today. But for now, you don’t care.

Because for the first time in ages, you’re entranced with a strong feeling of hope.

Chapter Text

Your heavy eyelids slowly shutter open as you hazily wake up from your dream. You blink, and it takes a couple of seconds to realize what woke you up.

A noise.

You heard a noise.

And it was coming from your living room.

Suddenly alert, you focus on your senses. You can’t hear anything anymore. Maybe you just imagined it?

But your instincts are screaming that something is off.

Trying to move as soundlessly as you possibly can, you sit up straight and grab the knife on your nightstand. You silently slip out of bed, tightly clasping your weapon as you slowly tiptoe towards the entrance of your living room. Holding your back against the wall, you carefully peep inside the room. It’s pitch dark, but you’re pretty sure you don’t see anything. Your gaze darts towards the front door. The heavy locks are still shut, meaning it’s impossible for someone to have entered through there. The only remaining possibility is that someone entered through your window.

Shit. With how exhausted you were yesterday, there’s a chance you might have forgotten to lock your window shutters. You can't see your window from this angle, but if someone had opened the shutters, surely, you would notice the city light coming through from outside? Maybe no one broke in after all?

But you can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

You nearly jump when you hear a soft noise coming from the right corner of the living room, extremely close to you. You freeze, eyes widening in fear. You have to act now. Clasping your knife, you bounce forward, ready to attack the piece of shit who broke into your home.

You frown in surprise.

… a scrunched-up piece of paper on the floor?

That is the exact moment you realize you made a grave mistake. You fell right into the trap. Before you can do anything, a brutal force from behind pushes you hard against the wall. A surprised squeal escapes your lips as you painfully crash into the cold surface.

“Got you,” a dark familiar voice whispers in your ear.

Ice-cold shivers of terror run down your spine when you recognize his voice. With both hands pinned against the wall, you're unable to move. You tightly hold onto your knife with gritted teeth, refusing to let go of your only way of defense. This doesn’t last long, because Levi decides to pull your wrists behind your back, twisting it to loosen your grip on your knife. He effortlessly confiscates it in a swift move, and to your horror, you feel him binding your wrists together behind your back. You desperately try to struggle away, but you barely even budge. Panting in panic, you frantically try to think of something.

There must be something you can do.

Maybe your neighbors can save you? If you even have neighbors to begin with. With nothing else left to do, you let out a loud, sharp scream for help.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses through his teeth as he muffles your cries with his hand. You try to bite his flesh, but in an eyeblink, he removes his hand and puts a piece of cloth over your mouth instead. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you feel him tightening the tissue into a knot at the back of your head.

You pause for a moment, trying desperately to think of anything that could save you from this hell. But you can’t come up with one single idea. There’s absolutely nothing you can do. You’re completely powerless.

It suddenly hits you how vulnerable you are. Your hands are tied behind your back, your mouth is tied shut, and the only thing you’re wearing is a thin white tank top, and small black underwear. You’re not wearing a bra, which renders your breasts quite... visible. You swallow thickly as you feel Levi's entire body pushing against your half-naked body.

This can’t be real, right? This has to be a nightmare?

As if the universe wants to add to your misery, this thought is immediately followed by a piece of cloth robbing your vision. Oh great, he’s blindfolding you now.

You try to protest, but only a muffled sound comes out. What the actual fuck is he even planning to do with you?

You gasp as he suddenly turns you around and throws you over his shoulder in one swift move.

“Don’t try any dirty little tricks because I won’t hesitate to drop you down,” he warns coldly. “But hey, if you prefer falling to your death, that’s fine by me too.”

Your breaths accelerate as you finally truly realize Levi is going to kidnap you. Your heart races in horror.

Though it is not exactly the most urgent matter at hand, it draws upon you that he's about to drag you out while you’re tied and almost naked. You want to protest, but you're reminded once again of the tissue tightly covering your mouth.

A dreadful feeling coils in your stomach as he starts to walk.

This can’t be fucking happening.

You suddenly feel him covering your body with a piece of fabric. Though he might just be doing this to draw less attention onto himself, it is still a surprisingly considerate act given he's about to brutally murder you. The faint feeling of relief this renders quickly washes away when you feel him crawling through your window, and lifting both of you from the solid ground at high speed.

With wind aggressively blowing through your hair, you try to guess which direction you’re going. You quickly give up, as you honestly have no clue. Raw terror swells inside of you as the gravity of your predicament starts to sink in. You don’t want to know what he's going to do to you. If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve done that in your room.

No, what he’s going to do to you is definitely much worse.

You can hear him say the words again.

“I know they’d love to get their revenge on the little pest that’s been disrupting our plans. I could use the laugh anyway.”

You think about the fuming rage on his men’s faces as they were chasing you. In your defense, you just did the exact same thing they did, but you know they won’t see it that way. Not only did you snatch ‘their’ money right in front of them multiple times, but you also put them at more risk as they had to focus on you. It doesn't help that they probably spent a lot of time and resources preparing each heist, just for you to sabotage it every time. They must be furious. You suppose it’s also a direct attack on their dignity as thieves. A group of so-called vicious thieves getting robbed by one single woman, a little embarrassing. Not to mention you managed to wound Levi multiple times.

Yeah, you fucked up.

You should’ve known Levi would manage to follow you. You thought your trap had given you enough time to disappear into the city, but apparently, luck was not on your side. Still, how did he follow you all along without you noticing once? And more importantly, how the hell did he find out where you sleep? It doesn’t make sense. Not only does this mean he had to break into your small apartment in utter and complete silence, but it also means he found the secret hole in your closet. How? It is so well hidden, and it honestly just looks like proprietary damage? What kind of fucking bloodhound is this man? Not to mention you had surveilled your area for four hours. Was he just observing you all along without you noticing?

Fuck. FUCK.

You greatly underestimated him, for the hundredth damn time. You suppose you should’ve known he isn’t the type to let his prey get away. And now you’re brutally going to pay the price. You’re mercilessly being dragged straight into the wolf’s den, and you can't bear to think about what fate lies ahead of you.

Your rambling thoughts of dread are suddenly put on hold when you feel the ground steadying underneath you. The realization you've arrived at the destination causes such an overwhelming rush of adrenaline to soar through you that you can feel your pulse ringing in your ears. The distinct sound of keys rattles inside a lock, and the next moment, you’re harshly thrown on the floor. You wince in pain as you have no way to break the impact of the fall. Unsure of what to do, you sit up and anxiously wait for what’s about to come next.

You can't see anything through your blindfold, but you hear the sound of straps and metallic objects clinging against each other.

Your breath catches in your throat and you swallow in fright. Is he preparing his torturing equipment?

It takes you a few moments to convince yourself that he’s probably just putting off his 3DMG. You’ll be okay. Calm down. Everything is going to be alright. You’ll get out of here somehow.

You listen intently. There’s no other sound. You’re definitely alone with him in this room. You’re not sure whether that makes it all better or worse.

After what seems like ages, you hear him slowly stepping towards you. Sharp fear jolts in your stomach but you manage to fight the urge to crawl away. Without saying a word, he unties both knots behind your head. The sudden light blinds you, and you have to blink a few times before your eyes adjust. You swallow thickly before looking up and meeting his gaze, only to see him staring you down with a terrifyingly cold expression.

“W-Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” you manage to ask with a raspy voice.

He gently brings his hand under your chin and softly pushes it up, making you face him directly. The contrast between his deadly gaze and the unexpected softness of his touch makes your breath hitch.

“Somewhere no one will give a fuck about your screams and cries for help,” he answers coldly.

You jolt back out of his grip with a sharp gasp. Possessed by raw fear, you crawl back until you’re stopped by the wall behind you. You look at him with a pounding heart, unable to hide the terror in your expression. He just coldly stares back at you in silence. Though he's incredibly hard to read, you can feel his anger. You know he absolutely despises you.

You quickly scan your surroundings, hoping for something that could help you get out of this nightmare. To your horror, you find that the room is nearly empty. There’s just a wooden table on the side of the room, an armchair, and the tissue he had wrapped around you. Turns out that tissue is a blanket he took from your room, and you can only guess it fell on the floor when he harshly threw you on the ground.

Your gaze darts down, reminding you once again that you’re just in underwear. You gulp as you notice that the fabric of your tank top is even thinner than you remember, making the form of your hardened nipples clearly visible.

Fucking wonderful.

You look up at him, and watch him slowly scouring you from top to toe. Taking in every inch of your body, his gaze descends from your eyes... to your lips... to your collarbones… to your waist… down to your legs. His eyes then slowly climb back to meet yours. This mere act makes your heart pound even faster. There’s something intense about his gaze, a fire burning in the dark. At the same time, though, his expression is filled with indescribable coldness. A strange paradox you can’t quite place.

Keeping your gaze locked, he swiftly slides his tongue over his teeth, like a wolf licking his canines before devouring its trapped prey. The sight alone causes cold shudders to run through your body, yet you can't tear your eyes away from him.

He slowly starts to approach you.

“What game do you think you’re playing, huh?” he asks menacingly while taking a step forward.

“Three. Fucking. Times you had to stick your filthy nose where it doesn’t belong.” The wooden floor creaks underneath him as he takes another step forward.

“Tell me, do you have a death wish? A fetish for getting brutally murdered?” He’s even closer now, looking alarmingly similar to a blood-thirsty wolf closing in on its prey before the slaughter.

With every step he takes, your panic increases tenfold. Your fight or flight instincts are screaming. You don’t know where to go, but you need to run, now. There is a room next to this one, maybe there’s another exit there? A window? A weapon? Anything. Without thinking it through, you bounce on your feet and try to escape to the room next to you.

Unsurprisingly, Levi is much faster and slams you against the wall, hand clenched around your throat.

“You actually thought that would work? Cute.” The corners of his lips curl into a barely visible, sadistic smirk.

“What do you want from me?” you snarl.

“Do you know what we do to little pests like you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. He comes closer until his mouth hovers over your ear. Your pulse rises rapidly when you feel the warmth of his breath and every movement of his lips.

“We eliminate them,” he whispers. You bite your lip to keep yourself from whimpering.

He brings his face back to look straight into your eyes, and his cold, grey irises make your heart shrivel in dread.

“I’m not sure what the fuck you think you’re doing, but I do not have the patience to deal with it,” he grunts. His cold hands tighten around your throat, making you struggle for air. As you’re suffocating and panicking, your eyes dart towards his jaw. The faint scar of the cut you gave him with your blade is still visible. What have you done?

You’re frantically trying to get out of his grip, but it’s impossible. With your hands tied behind your back, there is nothing you can do. He narrows his eyes and holds his hand steady, observing you pathetically gasping for air. No one has ever looked at you with such pure venom, and if it wasn’t for the natural panicking state of your body, you would probably cry at the mere fact this is the last thing you will see before you die.

Suddenly, he lets you go. Your legs almost collapse as he turns around and walks away from you, leaving you panting with your back against the wall.

“But first, I have a couple of questions,” he announces, sounding completely unfazed, as if he didn’t just nearly choke you into unconsciousness a second ago. He calmly steps towards the armchair sitting in the middle of the room, and turns it around to face you.

“Depending on how you cooperate, I might make this all a little… easier for you,” he continues while sliding into the chair. He leans back, making himself comfortable as he scrutinizes you with his gaze. His head is cocked to the side as he observes you with his ankle resting on his knee.

How generous. You now have the choice between slowly getting tortured to death, or quickly getting your throat slit. Not to mention that while you have to wait for your inevitable doom, this monster gets to degrade and interrogate you in your most vulnerable state. You can’t even hide your chest because your hands are tied. Instead, you just have to stand there, fragile and as exposed as ever.

“Let’s start with the basics,” he sighs, his expression looking bland and apathic again. “Who the fuck are you?”

You can’t get the words out of your mouth. You’re frozen in place, still overwhelmed by everything that’s happening.

“Oi, are you deaf?” he snarls, “What’s your n a m e?”

You immediately mutter your name, almost in a whisper.

He repeats your name, trying it out in his mouth and pronouncing it like it’s a curse. “Alright, I’ll go straight to the point. Who the actual fuck told you it was a good idea to keep pulling those dirty little stunts of yours? Do you work for someone? Or are you just mentally challenged?” He looks almost disgusted.

“I needed the money,” you reply coldly, ignoring his insult.

He narrows his eyes. “Oh? Is the good ol’ pickpocketing not good enough for you, princess? Need to sabotage heists for that?” His voice is seeping with dry mock and sarcasm.

You pause for a moment. You’d die in the pits of hell before letting this brute know about Luna’s existence. You have no idea how far his or his men’s thirst for revenge will go, so you cannot risk it.

“I owe money to some people,” you end up saying, the first lie that comes to your head.

He narrows his eyes again. It feels like he’s observing every part of your body language to find out whether you’re actually telling the truth.

“Is that so? What do you owe money for?” he asks with a suspicious tone.

Fuck. He knows.

“It’s none of your business,” you state firmly.

“Does this look like a cozy little afternoon chat to you? TALK, brat,” he demands. He's visibly starting to get pissed off again.

Your mind races for a new lie. You have to think of something. Anything. But he’s too good at detecting lies, and knowing this makes it ten times more difficult to come up with a new one.

He seems to realize what is going on in your mind, because he suddenly bounces off his chair and stalks towards you.

You gasp in surprise as he forcefully grips you by the nape of your neck, yanking your head close to his.

“Who the FUCK do you actually think I am?” he growls menacingly. “You think I don’t see you searching for new lies?”

Before you can react, he slips his hand to the back of your hair. You barely process what is happening as he grabs a fistful of your locks and forcefully shoves you down to your knees, earning a surprised yelp from you as your legs crash onto the floor. Using his clasped hand in your hair, he yanks your head back, forcing you to look up into his murderous eyes. He is boiling with rage now, and the dominance he's exerting is so overwhelming that your mind completely shuts off. He single-handedly reduced you to a scared, trembling prey, and all you manage to do is cower in fear.

“I’m not LYING,” you screech helplessly. “I… I owe someone money, okay? Please, you have to believe me.” Your breaking voice and trembling lips betray that you’re on the verge of tears.

You’re actually being honest here. You do owe someone money. You owe money to your sister. She may not be asking it from you, but to you, you owe it to her. In a flash, you see her again. Sick and weakened, her joy and energy disappearing by the day.

And now, you might never see her again, let alone save her.

Before you can stop it, a tear escapes your eye. You bite your tongue in a futile attempt to stop other tears from escaping. Shit. Why do you have to break down now, of all times? You absolutely hate looking this vulnerable, especially in front of him.

He slightly narrows his eyes again, but his grip softens.

Silence befalls the room. His softer grip allows you to look down, and you use this to close your eyes and make an attempt at controlling your respiration again. Aside from your hasty breaths and occasional sniffs, the room is consumed by utter and complete quietness. You’re well aware of his gaze lingering on you as you try to calm down, and it’s not making your task any easier.

“Alright then,” he finally says after a long pause. You’re taken aback by the unexpected softness of his voice. “I’ll believe you for now.”

What messes you up the most in this interrogation is this. The alternation between violence and tenderness. The soft touches and the whispers in your ear, followed by the violent manhandling. You don’t know what it is, but it makes you want to cave and obey. It secretly awakens something deep within you that you would prefer to never address or admit. You’re not sure if he's doing this all on purpose, but if he does, it’s definitely working.

Taking a deep breath, you scrape up just enough courage to look at him and meet his gaze again. He's intently looking down at you, his eyes an eerie color against the dim lighting of the room. You swallow thickly and feel your heartbeat slowly accelerating again. You don’t know what it is, but the eye contact is getting more and more... intense. The murderous bitterness in his eyes has disappeared and it’s changing into something else, but you don’t know exactly what. There’s almost a certain softness to it, but also a burning intensity you can’t quite place. All you know is that for some reason, you find his gaze to be hypnotizing.

Maybe it’s because of your sudden emotional vulnerability, having let your sadness and pain reach the surface. Maybe it’s because of your physical vulnerability. After all, you’re almost naked and kneeled in front of him while tied up. You’re painfully aware of how every part of your body is exposed as you’re looking up at him, and you can only hope your face doesn’t reveal that he has successfully pushed you into utter and complete submission.

Whatever it is, something in his expression has changed, and it’s as if in the insanity of it all, you’re both suddenly hypnotized by each other. You can’t seem to look away. 

After a moment of silence, he slowly lets your hair go. He gently brings his hand to your face, and your entire body tingles as he traces his fingers down your jaw with agonizing slowness. You're unable to move, completely electrified by his touch. He slides his hand up to your cheek to softly wipe your tears away. Without breaking eye contact, he glides his fingers towards your chin, gently pushing it up for you to face him better. You don’t even feel your environment anymore. You’re completely out of it. All you can see is grey eyes consuming you. 

You’re suddenly jolted back into reality when you hear something approaching the door. You seem to both hear it at the same time, as his eyes quickly snap to the source of the sound. A second later, there's a knock.

From one moment to the other, the magic spell is broken. He brings his hand down and turns around to open the door.

You blink in confusion. What the hell just happened?

“Eyy Levi!” you hear a loud enthusiastic voice that you vaguely recognize. “I’ve got some news abou-“

The tall, brown-haired man at the door stops mid-sentence as he notices you: on your knees, tied up, in underwear, and wearing a thin tank top that does a terrible job at hiding your forms. His eyebrows arch up in surprise, but this is immediately replaced by an dark smirk.

“Didn’t know you were into these type of things as well, good taste you got there,” he purrs while devouring you with his eyes. His hungry grin broadens as he quickly scans you up and down.

Yikes.

He's quickly interrupted by Levi grabbing him by the collar and yanking him behind the door, out of your eyesight. You sigh in relief, glad that Levi at least stopped the guy from further assaulting you with his eyes. You try to listen to their conversation, but it seems to be nothing of use to you.

With Levi and that pervert behind the door, you realize you're alone. This might be your one and only chance of escape. You hesitate for a second, but then decide to get on your feet. Heart pounding in your chest, you tiptoe towards the other room, doing your very best to avoid the wooden floor from creaking underneath you.

With dread, you find that the room is almost as empty as the living room. There are only two old couches and one empty small table. There’s also a window, but you highly doubt you would ever be able to reach it and crawl through it with your hands tied. Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a knife or something sharp that you could use to free your hands.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Shit.

Before you can react, you feel Levi’s arm grabbing your waist and dragging you back to the living room. You try to struggle free, but his grip is too strong.

In one rush, it hits you that you haven't heard the door getting locked, or even getting shut for that matter. You might be able to escape. It may not be the best idea to physically attack Levi again, but if you don’t succeed at breaking free now, you’re most likely going to die. You have nothing left to lose.

Without hesitating a moment longer, you kick his leg hard in an attempt to break free.

At this, he stops and harshly pushes you onto the table next to him. One moment, you’re sitting with your legs dangling around each side of his hips. The next, a cold hand forcefully grips your throat. In an eyeblink, he slams your head down on the hard, wooden surface. The brute impact causes your vision to blacken and a sharp gasp to fill your lungs. You wince and whimper in pain. It feels like he might have just cracked your skull open. Disoriented and dizzy, you have to blink a few times before you come back to your senses. As your vision focuses again, your eyes meet his. He's hunched over you, his face hovering right above yours.

Whatever that was earlier, it’s completely gone. His eyes are spewing venom again.

“Listen up, you little shit,” he hisses angrily. “My patience is running real fucking thin here. Either you start cooperating, or I wrap up this little interrogation session in a very… unpleasant way.”

You stare up at him, unmoving, still hazy from the impact against your skull.

Is he really just going to murder you in cold blood after this?  Everything about him suggests he wouldn’t hesitate. All the rumors surrounding him, combined with the fact he is, of course, a criminal gang leader. Nobody gets to that position with a soft heart. Nobody reaches that level of respect if they’re the type to let others walk over them. He's beyond dangerous, Gary made that very clear, and you know nobody has ever gotten away with challenging him. Additionally, it’s not even like you only got one chance. You’ve been warned before, and you didn’t listen because you underestimated him.

Nevermind the fact you can see in his eyes that he would be perfectly capable of murdering you on the spot.

How will he do it? Will he strangle you? Will he slit your throat? Something more brutal? Or maybe he’ll just put your faith into the hands of his revenge-thirsty men? For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to imagine he will go through with it. There has to be a way to convince him to spare your life, right? The way he looked at you earlier must mean something.

…right?

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by impatient fingers clicking in front of your face.

“HEY. Focus, runt.”

It only now hits you that he has been talking all along, but you weren’t listening at all.

“I’ll cooperate. Just ask your questions,” you mumble, managing to make your voice sound surprisingly calm.

You will answer his questions, but you'll have to leave your family secret out of it, as not doing so could definitely endanger Luna and Finn. People would do anything for the large sum of money the military police are willing to pay.

He squints his eyes and observes you for a moment, as if to find out whether you’re actually planning on cooperating, or if you’re just going to waste his time again. In a moment of silence, you become aware of his slow, relaxed heartbeat against yours. Good to know this situation doesn’t have him agitated in the slightest. The fucking psychopath. You’re also becoming increasingly aware of the warmth of his body against yours, his hard muscles resting on your stomach, your thighs around his waist, and his soft breath brushing your cheek. This physical contact makes you even more nervous, making you cheeks warm up.

You mentally kick yourself. Disgusting. You should be revolted by the physical contact of your soon-to-be-murderer, not flustered. What the actual fuck is wrong with you?

‘A fetish for getting brutally murdered’. Apparently so. Yikes.

After a few more seconds, he decides to let you go. He stands up straight again, looking down at you.

“That was your last warning,” he murmurs menacingly, before turning around and sliding into his armchair with a deep sigh. Not bothering to turn the chair around, he doesn’t face you this time. Instead, he stares into the distance in front of him.

As your heart rate slowly starts to steady again, you sit up straight and observe him. You wish your hands were free so that you could hold your legs closely against your chest, but sadly, things aren’t particularly going as you like today.

“How did you know about our plans?” he asks with a flat tone, as he stares into the nothingness in front of him.

“One of your boys is very loud. Brown hair, slightly crooked nose. I followed him around, didn’t take me long to find out all the details of your heists.” 

“Hmm… Boris huh? Figured he’d be an issue,” he mumbles as he strokes his fingers over his lips.

You almost feel bad for outing the guy like that, you were starting to like his loud ass.

“I’ll ask this again. Who do you work with?” he demands.

“No one. I’m alone.” 

He side-eyes you for a moment. “I don’t buy it.” 

He reaches for his pocket and takes out your circular tri-blade. Your eyebrows lift up in surprise. You didn’t expect him to actually think about grabbing that when the building was collapsing.

“What the hell is this?” he asks while studying it. “Either you have some high-end connections who provide you with expensive gear, or you have enough cash to collect fancy weapons by yourself. Both options don’t really scream ‘I’m alone and in dire need of money’, now do they?”

“I made it myself,” you respond dryly.

“You want me to give you another concussion or what?” he snarls.

“I’m telling the truth,” you state firmly. “My dad was a weapon manufacturer. He mainly made knives and throwables as a job. He taught me, so now I design weapons myself for my own use. It doesn’t cost me a cent because he left all the necessary materials behind. You can go to my place and check it out if you want. It’s all in my basement: angle grinders, handsaws, stacks of steel, and so on. If you don’t want to leave me here, you can ask one of your men to check it out. I have nothing to hide.”

“Let’s say I believe you, which I don’t,” he replies steadily, “care to explain why you own two buildings then? What the hell is that about? A secret hole in your closet, really?”

Shit. How do you even begin to explain that? You absolutely cannot say anything about your family name, but since he's so good at detecting lies, it’s better to stick to the truth as much as possible.

“It’s because of my parents. They were criminals pursued by the military police, so they made sure no one knew where we truly lived. I’m sure you can understand. You’re my perfect example of why it’s best to hide your sleeping place, though it didn’t seem to work on you.” Your last sentence comes out with way more bitterness than intended, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Are both your parents dead?” 

You’re slightly taken aback by the bluntness of his question, but you nod. “They got murdered.” Your chest tightens as you say the words out loud.

He observes you for a moment. “What did they do to get hunted by the MP's? They barely dare to set foot in this place, and they don't often hunt criminals down, so why your parents?”

You instantly regret mentioning the military police. He's right, it is suspicious. You would’ve thought about this if you weren’t so busy focusing on hiding how nervous you are. If he wasn’t so good at reading you, you’re sure you would be able to keep a cool head and answer strategically. However, he seems to have a great impact on your focus, which might lead to your doom if you’re not careful.

You quickly come up with a vague answer before he has the chance to notice your hesitation. “They never told me. Probably to protect me or themselves,” you mumble. A shitty answer, and you really don’t like where this conversation is going.

He observes you intently, and you can feel his eyes burning holes through your skin. He's definitely foraging for lies again. You’re not sure whether you’re a terrible liar or whether he's some sort of lie-detecting machine, but you need to stop this now. You really don’t want him to pry about your parents ‘crimes’, and neither do you want him to ask about the true motives behind your stealing. You need to turn this conversation around as soon as possible. You also have to find a way for him to spare your life. You need to seem useful to him somehow.

A sudden idea pops into your head, and the words escape your mouth before you can stop them.

“I want to join your gang.” Your voice is surprisingly calm compared to the absolute storm that is thundering within you.

Flabbergasted, he stares at you like you just said the dumbest thing he’s ever heard.

“Were you dropped as child?”

You would probably be amused at his reaction if it wasn’t for the gravity of the situation. All you can think about is that this might be your one and only chance to convince him to spare your life. You have to play your cards right, or else, it will be over.

You fucked up, and you know he won’t let you get away with it easily. Not just because he definitely doesn’t trust you, but also because he really doesn’t strike as the type to ever let anyone walk over him. However, if you can somehow convince him that you will be useful to them, he might spare you. Even if it’s just for a couple of missions. You also know it’s important to show him you truly want to join his gang. If it doesn’t seem useful for the both of you, he won’t trust you. He’ll think you will just act like a slave for a short time, and then get out when the first chance arises. But if you make a deal, it might work.

You look at him with newfound determination. “I really need the money, and I know I can be a useful asset to you. We could both benefit from it, I could help you. I could make personalized weapons for you and your men, and I’m sure I’m decent enough for whatever heists you make. Not only was I able to sneak around for weeks without anyone noticing, but I was able to outrun the rest of your guys. If it wasn’t for you, I probably would've never been caught in the first place. Surely, I can be useful to you?”

Your speech earns you a raised brow.

“A lot of confidence for a pathetic little runt,” he responds with an unimpressed look. The slight mocking undertone in his voice makes your blood come to a boil.

Oh, fuck off. Is that all he has to say?

You could swear his lips are threatening to curl into a dark smirk. He clearly enjoys watching you struggle as you try to hide your irritation.

You both know that if you let this anger get the better of you, you’re finished. You’re not going to let that happen, so you take a deep breath and continue.

“Look, I robbed you guys because that was my only way of participating in a big heist. I mean, you know much better than I do that it yields a lot more than robbing people on the streets. Thing is that I just couldn’t do it alone. But if you would let me join, there would no reason for me to ever stand in your way again. And most importantly, it would be beneficial for you too. Think about it, I could help you. I could make anything you want: crossbows, throwables, knives, you name it. These tools are expensive and hard to get by, and I will provide it all for you if you just let me help you do your heists. You’ve seen my capabilities, I’m sure I can be a helping hand.”

“And why exactly are you talking as if you’re in any position to demand a favor from me?” he asks nonchalantly without missing a beat.

You clench your fists behind you in frustration. He's doing this on purpose. He's intentionally ignoring everything you’re saying, scrutinizing you to see to what level of desperation you’ll allow yourself to sink. You wish you could strangle the shithead on the spot.

“I’m not, I just…” you’re desperately looking for the right words, but this is simply greeted by a bored, unimpressed stare.

Fucks sake.

With a defeated sigh, you decide to push all your pride aside. Honestly, you don’t have any pride left anyway.

“Please. I can prove myself,” you plead.

“I know you’re hiding something. And I don’t trust people who are this desperate for a large sum of money anyway,” he responds with a dismissive wave. He’s not even looking at you anymore.

“You know where I live, if I don’t cooperate you can come in and slit my throat if you want,” you mumble darkly.

His eyes travel back to you. “How do I know you won’t try to do the same?”

For a second, you’re not sure how to answer his question.

“I’m not a murderer.”

He frowns. “All these weapons and you’ve never killed anyone before?”

“No,” you reply, almost in a whisper.

A long silence follows. He observes you intently, going over every detail of your face. It seems he's trying to read you again. After a few moments, he lets out a heavy sigh and looks away. Maybe he believes you, considering the honesty in your voice was clear.

The next few moments, he looks completely lost in thought. You wonder if he's thinking about all the people he has killed before. Has he ever regretted it? Is he just a cold-blooded murderer or does he ever feel something? There is something strangely paradoxical about all of this. He softly caressed your cheek and wiped your tears away with the same hand he has stabbed or strangled multiple people to death with. Those eyes you were drowning in a moment ago, are the last thing many people have seen before they died.

You can’t end up like them.

“I’ll redeem myself. Just please don’t… get rid of me yet,” a euphemism for killing, “I won't betray you and I’ll be useful to you guys, that’s a promise I’m making to you.” Your voice is so soft that it almost comes out as a whisper.

He still doesn’t look at you.

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Is that so?” His eyes are still fixed on a distant point in front of him, but you don’t miss the slight hint of interest, and maybe even amusement in his voice.

Wait, amusement?

Deciding you won’t let this intimidate you, you keep pushing. “Yes. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

His eyes flicker up to yours, and you’re almost certain there’s a sinister smile threatening to reach surface.

Oh God.

It’s as clear as day. He might as well have told you flat out. He is relishing the thought of using you and making you suffer.

Before you can further analyze the satisfaction he gets out of this, he looks away from you again. He's staring in front of him now, clearly weighing his options.

The deadly silence that follows is eating you up inside. He's impossible to read, and you have no idea in which direction his thoughts are going. Just when you’re convinced he has decided to put an end to you after all, he speaks up.

“Alright. I’m willing to test it out.”

Your mouth gapes open in surprise. You hear the words, but you have a hard time believing them.

It actually worked? He is keeping you alive?

He side-eyes you, and something in his gaze tells you your victory might not be as sweet as you may think.

“I’m warning you, I don’t trust you at all. If I see one slip-up, one suspicious movement, one thing that doesn’t please me, I’ll gladly finish you with my own two hands.” His voice is cold as stone, and the danger that suddenly radiates off of him makes your breathing halt.

You swallow. You know he means every word.

He quickly looks you up and down, and beckons you over with two fingers. "Come here."

You frown.

“Didn’t you just say you’d do whatever I want? Don’t make me regret my decision now, runt.”

At that, you quickly get off the table and stop right next to him.

“Turn around,” he orders.

You do, and to your relief, he just unties you. You’re not really sure what you thought he was going to do, but you’re just glad he decided to stop playing games for now.

“Now take that blanket of yours and get the fuck out,” he commands, without even bothering to spare you one last glance.

Obediently, you do as he says. Barefoot and with your blanket tightly wrapped around your body, you walk out of the door without looking back once.

Chapter Text

You groan in protest the moment you wake up and open your eyes. You just want to be asleep again, safely tucked inside your dream, protected from the fuckfest that has become your life. To your dismay, the events of this night won’t stop flashing before your eyes. Somewhere, you hope it was just a nightmare, but the bruises on your knees and your piercing headache beg to differ.

You’ll never forget to lock that damn window anymore.

You can’t believe it. You’re going to be part of the gang now, under the direct scrutiny of your arch-nemesis. Though it seems you successfully convinced him of your use, you don’t doubt for a second he will purposely make your life much more difficult than necessary and feast on your suffering. You genuinely don’t know what to think about all of this. Are his intentions genuine? Does he truly think you’ll be a useful asset? Or is he just keeping you alive as his personal play-toy?

The way he looked at you during your breakdown — or whatever the hell happened then — indicates that deep down, he feels at least a slight bit of sympathy for you. Still, there’s no way of knowing whether this will be enough for him to spare you some mercy.

Let’s not even begin about the rest of the gang. How lovely, joining a bunch of brutes who hate your guts, because that is going to end well. As their leader, only Levi may be able to tame their anger, meaning that once again, your life is entirely in his hands. Wonderful. It really does seem like the universe has been holding a grudge against you lately.

Somewhere, though, you try your best to see things in a more positive light, if not just to help you cope with the hellhole that has become your life. Because honestly, there might still be a little bit of hope. Yes, it could all go terribly wrong, but maybe, just maybe, it will be okay? If you can somehow prove that you’re on their side, if you can gain their respect and trust, there’s a small chance it might actually turn your life around for the better. Maybe you’re getting way ahead of yourself here, but what if they aren’t as terrifying as they seem? What if they still have a sense of humanity somewhere? If so, having a group of people around you might not be so bad. If you can somehow manage to fit in and get them to like you, it might ease the loneliness you’ve been feeling the past couple of years.

You’re not exactly sure when that loneliness started to creep into your life, but you suspect it began when you distanced yourself from your childhood friends. You slowly pushed them away after your parents died, as you were honestly too busy mourning their deaths and providing for yourself and your sister. More importantly, you didn’t trust anyone anymore. You highly suspected that someone snitched your parents to the MPs, and you thought it was probably a friend of theirs, someone close. Who else could have known? This had greatly impacted your will to socialize, leading you to slowly become unfamiliar with all the kids in your area. It didn’t help that many of them got into shady lifestyles or disappeared completely.

You’re not alone. You know that. You got Luna, Finn, and Gary, and they love you dearly. But you all live very separate lives, and quite frankly, you’re alone the vast majority of the time. It is your own choice though; you’re quick to isolate yourself as a method of self-protection. However, getting pushed out of that could do you some good.

Also, joining the gang would give you a much steadier income. You really need the money for Lun—

Your eyes snap open.

The money.

Your limbs ache in protest as you frantically jump out of bed and reach for the loose wooden plank beneath it. If that fucking bloodhound dared to—

…thank god. All the money is still there, safely hidden underneath your bed. You can deem yourself lucky Levi didn’t ask one of his boys to search your house during the interrogation. And if they did, they clearly didn’t find your secret storage place beneath the floor.

You let out a deep, exhausted sigh. Now that you’re out of bed, you might as well get up and start the day.

As you push yourself into your routine again, you try to think about what things you could possibly do next. You feel really uneasy about the fact that Levi has given you exactly zero information about what he's planning to do with you. When is he going to allow you to participate in a heist? Life is a damn ticking bomb right now. You don’t exactly have the time to wait around until His Majesty decides to incorporate you in his operations.

Ugh.

For now, you decide to just go visit Gary again. There really isn’t much else you can do for the moment, and you could really use his warm, familiar presence right now. Maybe that will give you the strength and motivation to brainstorm about what to do next. Additionally, it might help you to get distracted from the horrifying memories of this night, which you direly need.

When you arrive at Gary’s bar, you're immediately welcomed by his enthusiastic greeting.

“And look who's there! Glad to see ya again, kid. How you doing?”

“Could be better, but can’t complain,” you mumble as you haul yourself onto the barstool in front of him. Truly, you can’t really complain considering you should’ve been dead by now.

“What about you?” you ask as you lean on the counter with your elbows, “Costumers been a little more bearable?”

“More or less,” he grunts in return as he busies himself by washing a glass of beer.

You snort. “That doesn’t sound too good.”

“You should’ve seen those punks yesterday, the drunkards nearly trashed my whole damn place. All because some fucker enticed all his pals to act like wild animals. Can you believe that same shithead paid all their drinks with cash that turned out to be fake?”

“And I can take it you proceeded to beat his arse into oblivion?” you ask, unable to contain a smirk.

“Didn’t get the chance yet. Only found out about the money this morning, but trust, I will,” he grunts darkly.

You snort in amusement. “I’m praying for the poor bastard already.”

A grin forms on Gary’s lips as he continues to wash the dishes.

“Is he a regular?” you ask.

“Not really, but the few times he’s been here, he’s always been a pain in the ass. The bastard also has a real talent for scaring my female customers away.”

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. Since you have no idea what Levi’s plan is, you can’t just wait around for him to make a move. You need to keep the cashflow going at all times, and it seems like you may have just found your new prey.

“Stealing, causing chaos and proprietary damage, AND harassing clients. Sounds like the man needs to be taught a little lesson,” you say with a playful, mischievous smile.

Gary’s eyes immediately flick up to yours, and the amused smirk that follows is as big as it can possibly get. “Sounds about right.”

“Just curious,” you shrug with exaggerated innocence, “what do you know about him?”

Gary snorts. The over-exaggerated innocent façade you always put up whenever you pry for information never fails to amuse him. You both know what you need it for, but you never straightforwardly talk about it. It has always been like a little game between you two, never quite mentioning what you do for a living.

“Hmm… let’s see,” he mumbles as he leans on the counter while regarding you with a contemplative eye, “His name is Bobby, he’s a pottery maker, and he has a little stand where he sells his vases and whatnot. It’s a couple of streets away, I think next to Randons’ tavern? I also know that the man has a real weakness for the ladies, which really turns into the worst fucking trait whenever he’s drunk.”

“Okay, good... good,” you hum as you think this through. “What does he look like?”

Gary’s lips twitch in amusement before he informs you that your soon-to-be-victim must be in his early fifties, that he has a bit of a beer pouch, and that his brown locks have been cursed with an increasingly receding hairline. Gary really doesn’t spare the man, and you can’t help but chuckle at his hidden insults and his all-but-flattering description.

Once you’ve gathered enough information, you allow the conversation to take its natural turn towards other subjects, and after a good pleasant chitchat, you bid your farewell and return home.

Time to pay Bobby a little visit.

It would be best to observe him first before you attack, so when you arrive home, you change up and put on your mother’s long vest. With its big hood and its unobtrusive, washed, dark oak color, it's definitely one of the pieces that will bring the least amount of attention to yourself.

Once you arrive at the tavern Gary mentioned, it doesn’t take you long to find Bobby’s stand, exactly as Gary described it. You set yourself in a discrete place and pretend to read a book as you observe him. He seems like quite the chatter, and you’re not really surprised he’d go all berserk under the influence of alcohol. Gary also wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned Bobby’s uncontrollable hunger. The man is staring at approximately every single woman who passes his stand.

Good.

After some observation and some discrete walks to catch better angles, you conclude that he keeps his money in a bowl beneath the counter of his stand. The bowl might be sitting in a little cabinet, because every time he reaches for change, it looks like he opens and closes a little door of some sort. Dammit. This means that the cash isn’t really out in the open, and unfortunately, you probably won’t easily be able to reach the bowl from behind the counter in one quick move. In other words, distracting him and swiftly stealing his bowl while he isn’t looking most likely won’t work. You can’t afford to take the risk and get caught either, since you’re in a very public place. The last thing you need right now is to get your ass busted by everyone who is walking around his stand.

You will have to find a way to get behind the counter with him, and distract him real good.

Welp… time to put your seductive, innocent façade up. You'll definitely have to go home for a good outfit switch for this one.

You're real damn lucky your grandmother and mother tailored as a hobby. If it wasn’t for that, you’re quite certain half your missions would fail. Putting on cute dresses to seem seductive and innocent, switching your attire to become unrecognizable, wearing unobtrusive cloaks: all these tactics have drastically helped you during your journey as a thief. Chances are you wouldn't be alive today if it wasn’t for the clothes you've inherited and fabricated. You're beyond lucky your parents were middle-class citizens, and that you have the privilege of owning multiple clothing pieces to begin with. Maybe that's the reason life is kicking you so hard in the guts right now: you’ve had it quite easy compared to a significant percentage of people who live here, and maybe fate has decided to restore a fairer balance.

It’s not that you haven’t suffered — your teenage years undeniably felt like a hopeless nightmare — but you’ve always had a roof over your head, you’ve always had someone around who loves and supports you, you’ve always had a warm place to return to, and you've always been in decently good health. The same can't be said about the many orphans who are left to starve on the streets. That guilt always gnaws at you, and although you always donate food or goods when you can afford to do so,it doesn't erase the imbalance or the guilt.

A least you can happily say you never steal from innocent, poor people anymore. You limit yourself to the cruel and greedy rich, or the absolute psychopaths.

…and maybe occasionally the people who are a pain in the asshole like mr. Bobby over there.

You’re not entirely sure the man deserves it, but Gary has successfully convinced you he needs to be taught a little lesson, so who are you to refuse? Besides, it’s for the greater good anyway.

Once you’ve observed Bobby long enough, you turn around and walk back home for your outfit change. You switch your casual pants and old shirt with a cute white summery dress your mother tailored herself many years ago. It hugs your body in a flattering way without being too revealing. It's slightly alluring, yet still innocent. You highly suspect your mother fabricated this dress for the same purpose you’re going to use it now, and the mere fact you’re following her exact same footsteps brings up a bittersweet feeling. Fuck, you miss her so much.

You try to bite the aching feeling in your chest away. There’s no time to get emotional again.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror as you put the dress on. Oh, this is going to work wonderfully. This dress undoubtedly makes you look out of place in the Underground, but then again, that’s precisely the point. You have to look like a sweet lady who is part of the richer citizens of the city, and thus, would never steal. Just a cute girl who has a passion for vases. And it turns out this dress is doing a tremendous job at conveying that image.

Taking a handbag that you’re sure will be big enough for Bobby’s treasure trove, you rush outside and make your way through the city again.

Time to have a little fun.

The moment you arrive at Bobby’s stand, you can already feel his gaze lingering on you.

Putting on your best good-girl act, you pretend that while you’re just casually wandering around, your gaze oh so happens to fall on his masterpieces. You fake an expression of awe as you approach his stand. It isn't the biggest stand around, but he's got a generous collection of pottery work in a range of colors.

“Wow, did you make those yourself?” you mutter in admiration as you stare at the pots and vases displayed behind him.

“All mine, and I’ve got everything you might need: bowls, pots, plates, vases, and so on,” he explains proudly.

“Your work is… beautiful,” you mutter in wonder, voice sweet as honey as you lean on the counter, seemingly to get a closer look at his work. In reality, you’re purposely pushing yourself forward to put your cleavage on full display. You have to play all your cards here, after all.

He swallows thickly, and his cheeks turn into a slightly warmer shade of red as he seems to struggle to maintain his gaze on your eyes. Good.

“I-I’m glad you like it. Thank you, miss...?”

Alright, going straight to the point. Not very surprising considering everything Gary told you about him.

You give him a fake name, and he gives you his real name in return, before proceeding to tell you how pleased he is to meet you.

You tell him how you don’t know much about pottery, but that you would love to know more about this beautiful art craft. He seems more than pleased to discuss every single detail about his work, and while he does, you give him your everything. You smile, you giggle, you twirl your hair, you bite your lip in seductive admiration, and you boost his ego as if you’re relishing the thought of him doing all this mind-blowing work. By the time he’s finished, you have him completely wrapped around your finger. He’s nervous, he’s sweating, he’s trying to impress you, and his cheeks have reached a visibly deeper shade of red.

“Would you be so sweet to let me get a closer look? I’d love to see the details of your work,” you tell him while innocently biting your lip. You let the seduction drip out of every syllable of your words.

He hesitates for about a second, but this completely falters the moment you excitedly tell him how ‘beautiful that red vase is’, and ‘oh my God that blue one!’

Without hesitating a second longer, he opens the door of his stand, and lets you inside. As you pretend to observe and admire his collection, you notice him nervously rubbing his sweaty palms on his shirt. His nervousness is kind of hilarious and only makes you want to push it further.

You take a vase that slightly resembles the form of an hourglass, and slowly slide your index finger across its surface. You can feel Bobby’s gaze lingering on your fingers, and you’re pretty certain you just heard him gulp.

“Look,” you tell him with a sweet voice as you take his hand and gently trace his fingers over the vase. “Do you feel the smoothness of the curves? It’s almost hypnotizing, the way it goes up… and down… and up again…” your voice is a taunting whisper at this point, though it could be confused with innocent admiration.

You fight not to  burst into laughter, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he's beyond flustered now. You single-handedly reduced him to a stuttering mess, and the tint of his cheeks is now comparable to the one of an overripe tomato, while drops of sweat are crawling down his forehead.

Okay, maybe you’re taking this a little too far, but can you be blamed? This is entertaining as hell.

Concluding you’ve really done the most, you decide to hop on part two of the plan: actually robbing the guy.

You let his hand go and walk towards the counter. You spot the cabinet that undoubtedly contains his bowl of money, and luckily, the little door doesn’t seem to be locked, just as you expected.

You turn around and casually lean back against the counter, facing him with a playful smile.

“Okay I want you to choose something for me now.”

“Me? B-but I don’t know what you like,” he stutters.

“I like everything,” you respond with a playful wink. “Just pick something you think fits me the best. I’ll close my eyes, I promise.”

He turns around and starts scanning his collection, looking very preoccupied with finding something that won’t disappoint you.

Your heart hastens its beats as you slowly reach for the cabinet door behind you. If you make one single noise now, you’re finished.

You soundlessly open the little door and slowly grab the bowl. You manage to slip it in your bag and close your eyes just in time before Bobby turns around. Thank god.

“I think this suits you best,” he mutters.

You open your eyes again and excitedly walk towards him, while being careful not to make any brusque movements. Few things are noisier than a glass bowl with a bunch of coins inside, so you can't be careful enough.

As you approach him with an excited expression, you ponder your next move. You know you need to get out of here before he notices his money is gone. This means you can’t buy the vase he chose for you, because that would require him to go grab some change.

You already know what you have to do.

You slide your fingers over the dark blue vase he chose for you.

“Wow… it’s so beautiful… but…” Okay you need to look emotional now, cry, look sad, think about sad things.

You purse your lips before continuing.

“… it looks exactly like the one my grandfather used to have. He passed away a week ago.” You force your voice to break and your lips to tremble.

Bobby blurts out a panicky, apologizing mess, and you put your hands over his. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault, but I just can’t take it… I’m sorry.”

“W-wait, I can choose something else.”

You shake your head with a sniff. “No… I think this was meant to be. It's a sign. I need to visit my grandmother again and support her through this painful time.”

You look up at him with a pained smile and trembling lips. “But thank you so much Bobby. Take care.”

Before he can respond, you quickly turn around and start fake crying until you’re out of his sight. It’s only after you're a hundred percent certain you’re safely out of eyesight and earshot, that you stop to process the melodramatic scene you just pulled. A snort escapes as you play back the entire conversation in your head.

You did him so damn dirty, not to mention he’s still going to get his ass beat by Gary. You can’t help but burst into uncontrollable laughter, which earns you a couple of confused stares. You feel slightly bad for the guy — having to deal with you and Gary teaming up to completely destroy his day — but this doesn't seem to still your laughter in any way.

You peep inside your bag, and it actually looks like you stole quite a decent amount of money. This almost causes you to snort into laughter again, but you manage to control yourself just in time.

As you walk through the filthy streets and alleys of the city, your amusement is slowly replaced by a slight feeling of anguish. For some reason, you feel like you’re being followed. You felt it when you went to Bobby’s stand too, but back then, you didn’t pay the feeling any mind. You were way too preoccupied with what was awaiting you, and you thought you just felt nervous about your little mission. But that is now over, yet the nervous feeling hasn't subsided. You don’t see or hear anything particularly suspicious around you though, so maybe your mind is just playing games with you because you expect Levi to send one of his men to follow you.

The anxious feeling only seems to grow the emptier the streets become. You’re walking through a secluded area, and though you normally don’t mind this part of town too much, this time, it makes you feel really uneasy.

As you enter a short tunnel, you look behind you in anguish, but you don't see anyone and—

Clap.

You jump and almost scream as the loud sound echoes through the tunnel. You immediately look in front of you again in one brisk movement.

Clap.

There he stands, none other than the bane of your existence.

Levi.

He's waiting for you in the shadows at the end of the tunnel, giving you a slow clap while nonchalantly leaning against the corner of the wall. His eyes are dark and cold, and so is everything else he irradiates.

How did you not notice or hear him?

“What a touching performance,” he hums as he gives you one final dramatic slow clap, voice drenched with dry sarcasm. “Dirty little tricks seem to be your specialty.” His expression is cold and stoic, but you don’t miss the dark mocking undertone in his voice.

“Pretty ironic coming from you, isn’t it? Don't think you have much to say about that,” you counter calmly.

The side of his lip curls up, but the dangerous glint in his pupils tells you that challenging him might not be the best idea.

He tilts his head to the side and swiftly flicks his tongue over his canines while scrutinizing you detail by detail. His sharp eyes burn through your skin, and they manage to quickly deteriorate every single bit of confidence you've been holding up until now.

He gets off the wall and starts approaching you while scouring you from head to toe. The uneasy feeling in your stomach keeps inflating as he comes closer and closer. He’s unpredictable, you have no idea what he's thinking or what his next move will be, and this mere fact makes you beyond nervous. Remembering your secret weapon strapped on your thigh, you instinctively bring your hand slightly closer to the hem of your dress.

“Draw out that little knife of yours and I’ll have you slaughtered on the spot.”

You clench your jaw. How the fuck did he even notice?

“You’re lucky you sparked my curiosity,” he murmurs as he prowls closer. You don’t know how he does it, but he effortlessly manages to make you feel infinitely small and intimidated in a matter of seconds. He just radiates this eerily menacing aura that completely overshadows any resolve or pride you try to hold on to. You don’t want to look intimidated, but you can’t help but avoid his gaze as he comes closer.

You gasp as a sudden forceful hand grabs you by the upper arm and yanks you forward.

Your faces are dangerously close now, causing the wicked venom in his eyes to fill your entire vision.

“But don’t push your luck. I couldn’t care any fucking less how useful you claim to be if you’re going to get on my nerves,” he says menacingly.

He leans in and brings his lips closer to your ear. His voice is now a mere, threatening whisper. “I don’t trust you one fucking bit. I know there's more to you than you pretend, so I’d be careful and obedient if I were you. Wouldn’t want you rotting under the dirty soil we’re standing on, now would we?”

Your breath hitches unwillingly, and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from showing any other signs of weakness. You hate how he successfully manages to intimidate you like this every single time.

He pulls back to meet your gaze, and proceeds to scan your features. The discomfort you’re feeling grows by the second as he consumes every crevice, every detail, every single sign of emotion that might reach surface. Something ominous passes through eyes, like the sight satisfies him. He’s devouring all the emotions playing across your face, consuming your fear and discomfort.

The worst part is: you can’t hide it. You can’t repress it. He sees right through you, and all you can do is watch as he takes in your weakness.

He suddenly lets you go and takes a step back, creating a safe distance between you two again.

“Wasn’t a smart choice to mingle in my affairs, and now that you have, you’re not going anywhere. Best get used to it,” he says, looking indifferent and emotionless again, as if that sinister spark had never appeared to begin with.

Before you know it, he turns around and walks away.

“Come by at our hideout at twelve tomorrow. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you where that is,” he calls out without looking back.

“Be there on time."

And from one moment to the other, he's gone again.

Chapter Text

Every part of your soul is protesting as you reluctantly lumber through the city, with the gang’s headquarters as your destination. It’s almost like your legs have grown a will of their own, forcing you to do what you must. The only way is forward, and those legs of yours know that all too well.

As you get closer to the hideout, you can’t help but reminisce about the life you’re about to leave behind. Though you would’ve loved to stay in the illusory safety of your own home for just a little longer, you couldn’t. You can’t afford to be late; Levi made that perfectly clear. There is no way back, and the only thing you can do is brace yourself for the shitstorm that is about to befall you.

Your stomach bubbles with unease when you realize you’re almost there. Farewell, life.

When you take your last turn, a small hint of relief flicks through your body. There’s no one hanging around the hideout, thank god. The gang members quite regularly sit and chat on the stairs that lead to the front door, so you can deem yourself lucky you won’t have to deal with Levi’s boys right now.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself a little moment of mental preparation. Honestly, the hideout looks quite peaceful when no one is around. It isn’t located in the most dangerous and poorest parts of the Underground, where every wall is covered with deep cracks and all buildings are on the verge of collapsing. Instead, you would consider this area of the city to be somewhat decent. Everything just looks normal and average. The brick walls are dirty and covered with mold as usual, and the ground is covered with puddles of sewage water like everywhere else. Nothing exceptionally fancy, but nothing particularly unsightly either.

You take one last breath before deciding to just get it over with. The slight feeling of calmness you just managed to evoke drastically deteriorates as you grudgingly drag yourself on the stairs. Oh, how you wish you could just turn around and go back home.

Honestly though, what are you even getting yourself into? This is a damn mess. You’re about to become slave to one of the most skilled gangs in the city, and more specifically, you’re enslaving yourself to the man who is arguably the most feared gang leader in the Underground. Cherry on top of the cake: he despises you. You have no idea what awaits you, but what you do know is that if you’re not able to prove you’re truly valuable to them, you’re finished.

You lift a slightly trembling hand to knock on the front door, but you hesitate.

What if this is a trap? What if Levi changed his mind, and the stairs are empty because all his boys are waiting inside, ready to shred you to pieces? Maybe it isn’t too late to go back. What if you just leave everything behind, and go live on the streets on the other side of the city? Maybe if you can manage to hide well, they will deem you dead and forgotten? You could sleep on roofs or—

You almost jump when the door suddenly opens up.

You immediately recognize the man in front of you: Furlan. His blue eyes curiously observe you as you try to regain your composure. Nope, wasn’t about to turn back and flee at all.

“Just in time, come in,” he says as he waves for you to come inside.

Nerves eat you up as you take your first step in the unknown terrain. You've spied on this hideout for an endless number of hours, but now, for the first time, you’re about to intrude and see it from the inside.

You walk in, and as Furlan closes the door behind you, the first thing your eyes fall upon is Levi. Two brown couches are surrounding a small table in the middle of the room, and unfortunately, he's sitting on the couch that is directly facing you. He's leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, sharply observing your every move while twirling a knife in his hands. Two silver irises consume you; one silver blade dangerously dances across your vision. You genuinely wonder if you’ve ever seen a sight so intimidating, and every part of your body is screaming at you to get the hell out of here NOW.

But you know damn well it’s too late already. There’s no way out of this mess any time soon.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Furlan says.

You immediately turn around to the blond boy with blue eyes, more than glad to break eye-contact with the embodiment of menace sitting on the couch. A few seconds more of his sharp glare and you might have started to show pathetic signs of nervousness.

“I’m Furlan, though something tells me you might already know that,” he tells you with a little smile. To your surprise, it’s not an unfriendly one per se.

You’re not sure how to react, so you just nod and give him a small, strained smile in return.

He signs at the couch behind you, the one next to Levi. “Please, sit down.”

As you turn around and do as he says, you feel Levi’s gaze following your every step. You don’t dare to look at him, but good grief he makes you nervous.

As you sit down, Furlan walks past you and Levi to grab one of the chairs sitting around a table at the back of the room. He drags it back, places it next to the couch Levi is sitting in, and turns it around to face you.

While the three of you silently sit around the little table, Furlan stares at Levi as if he’s waiting for him to say something. Your eyes slide from Furlan to Levi, and you immediately regret this decision the moment your gazes lock. There’s an eerie calm about him as he silently observes you, but his expression is devoid of any kind of warmth. In fact, there’s something truly cold and unsettling about the way he is looking at you, and you don’t like that dancing knife of his one single bit.

You’re just about to look away in discomfort, when he suddenly stops playing with his blade and speaks up.

“You claimed you’d be useful to us, so we’re going to give you a chance to prove that,” he starts.

He keeps your gaze locked as he leans in closer to you. “Needless to say, I know you’re hiding something, so one misstep and it’s over for you. Understood?” His voice is low and calm, but threatening.

You clench your jaw and nod.

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly leans back again. “We’ll give you certain tasks, see what you’re capable of. Don’t worry, they’ll follow pretty quickly after each other since you have to pay back that debt of yours in time.”

The way he spits out those last words clearly indicates he doesn’t believe your excuse one bit.

'Alright then. I’ll believe you for now,' you remember him saying. You suppose you sounded believable enough for him to know you weren’t completely talking out of your ass, but at the same time, he also knows you’re still hiding something. You wonder if that isn’t one of the reasons he let you go to begin with: maybe he wants to see for himself what you’re hiding, solve the puzzle on his own terms. This is quite concerning to say the least, but you try not to think about it too much for now.

“We have four tasks in mind. If you do well, you’re in. Don’t disappoint us.”

Levi’s eyes flick to Furlan, as if to tell him to continue the explanation. You look at him, and surely, he starts to explain your tasks.

“For your first mission you will be spying around. We know that is your domain, so we’re not going easy on you. Collect information about a trade without getting your hands dirty, and report it back to us. Second mission you will do together with Levi. Third and fourth you will do alone, but we’ll give you the details when the time comes,” Furlan explains.

You really don’t know what to think about all of this. It’s very logical they want to test you first before letting you in the gang, but it’s nerve-wracking to know that your life depends on it. Four tasks, and you need to do them well, each and every one of them. If you can’t manage to prove yourself, chances are you’ll have to kiss your life goodbye. You know where their hideout is, you know their techniques and weaknesses during their robberies, you just generally know too much, and additionally, Levi seems to believe you're working for someone. With them knowing where you live, and probably constantly keeping an eye on you, you don’t think you’ll be able to escape if they end up deciding you’re of no use to them, and that you’re therefore an unnecessary threat that should be eliminated for the gang's safety. Especially not with Levi around. You feel like he'd relentlessly hunt you down until he’s sure you won’t ever be able to stand in his way again. Considering he has already proven that that’s one of his talents, you highly doubt you’d be able to get away with it. He would find you one way or another.

In other words, it’s best to assume you have no choice but to succeed at these tasks.

Which is terrifying. Especially since you have no clue where your skills lie compared to their expectations. They’re a highly dangerous and feared gang, so meeting their standards isn't particularly evident.

Your worrying thoughts are put on hold when Furlan takes your silence as a cue to continue his explanation.

“For your first mission, we need you to spy and collect information from an underground distributor. He directly buys products from upper-ground suppliers, and sells them to merchants all over the city. Just like every distributor in the city, he's an absolute scammer. You probably already know that guys like him control the entire market and let people starve by drastically increasing the prices for their own gain. The distributor you have to spy on today is the same one we robbed during the first heist you interfered with: the one who was trading with Waltson, that rich upper-ground bastard. We know he should be trading again soon, but we don’t know anything about it yet. It’s your task to collect as much information as possible: when the trade will occur, where, with who, how much money will be involved, how many guards there will be, and so on. We’re going to give you his address so you have somewhere to start.”

You nod, and he continues. “The one important thing here is that he cannot find out he’s being spied on at all costs. If he suspects a new attack, he will change his plans. So collect the information however you want, but don’t get your hands dirty.”

You bite your cheek and nod, while trying your hardest to push your self-doubt away.

Levi’s attention darts from Furlan to you, and you can immediately tell he’s about to speak up.

“You have two days,” he announces.

“Only two days?” you stammer in shock.

You’ve spied a lot in your life, and even for you, that’s nothing considering all the information they want you to collect. It might have been doable if you could get your hands dirty, but that distributor can’t even suspect one single thing. What are the chances you’ll catch any interesting conversation, or get your hands on important documents in two days? They’re not being very generous about the information they’re giving you either. No name, no work schedule, no information about when or how often he leaves his house. Hell, you don’t even know what the man looks like. You’d bet on everything you own that they do have all this information considering they’ve robbed, and thus undoubtedly stalked the guy before, but they’re just choosing not to give it to you. The bastards.

“Is there a problem?” Levi asks calmly while cocking his head to the side. You don’t miss the malicious glint in his eyes.

The fucker chose this on purpose. He's clearly the one behind this decision. He doesn’t want you to do well at all; he wants to watch you fail miserably. He probably can’t wait to break all the confidence you showed him during your little speech back when he interrogated you. The heartless fucking vermin.

He observes you with both arms nonchalantly posed on the backrest of the couch, like an emperor sitting on his throne. You can almost see his pupils dilating as he's savoring the delicacy that is your helplessness. You both know you’re in no position to argue or protest, so all you can do is silently oblige as he enjoys the show.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, and you can swear he's holding back a sinister smirk behind that seemingly expressionless face of his.

The son of a bitch .

Anger boils inside of you, and you don't even care that you can't repress it. You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes while poisonously staring him down. This only seems to fuel him further. Locking your gaze, he brings his arms down and leans closer until his elbows rest on his knees. He looks you straight in the eyes, with an intensity that could probably set you ablaze if that was physically possible.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he whispers with exaggerated articulation, each syllable dripping with maliciousness.

Looks like this sadistic fucking cretin will be the end of you after all.

Chapter Text

Lying on a rooftop in the richest neighborhood of the city is honestly not so bad.

You’re on top of your victim’s house, if greedy distributors could ever be considered as such. Earlier, when you were observing his residence from the corner of the street, you noticed the lights were on. The man is still inside, which means that breaking into his house and searching for important documents will have to wait for now. What better place to wait it out than on his roof? He has a balcony, so your plan is to wait until he leaves, descend from the roof using some rope, and break in through there.

He can't suspect being spied on, so you will just have to make it look like a casual robbery, and hope this doesn’t arise any suspicions. It’s risky, but you really don’t see any other alternative since you only have two days. You will just have to leave the rooms that might contain important trading documents look perfectly untouched, so he believes no one got their hands on any trading information.

In the meantime, all you can do is wait.

You haven’t been in this rich neighborhood for years, and the contrast between this area and any other place in the city is even more striking than in your faint memories. There are significantly fewer drunkards wandering around, street fights seem quite rare, the alleys don’t reek of piss, and the buildings almost look new. No mold, no cracks, just houses that actually look nice. The buildings are much bigger and taller too, which made it a pain in the ass for you to climb to where you are now. You had to climb up a smaller house at the end of the street, and work your way from building to building until you arrived on the roof you're laying on now.

You’ve been waiting for three hours now, and though you're bored out of your mind, you’re glad you came prepared. You knew beforehand you would probably have to wait a long time, so you took a warm blanket with you, and some food. Of course, you also brought a variety of lockpicks for when you will have to break in.

… If you ever get the chance, at least. What if the man is on some sort of work-break, and doesn’t leave his house in the next coming days? If he is, and it turns out Levi knew about that, you will gladly perform your first true attempt at murder and strangle the shithead with your own hands. Everybody has their limits, and that imp is pushing it.

You almost doze off as the hours go by, until you suddenly hear the front door opening. Your eyes snap back open, and you quickly get on your feet. You quietly slink to the border of the roof to look down at the street below, and you see a man with dark hair and somewhat fancy-looking clothes closing the door, locking it, and walking away.

The distributor guy is gone. Finally. You can only hope there is no one else in the house.

Time to break in before he comes back.

You take the thick rope you attached to the chimney earlier, and you throw it down to the balcony below. Luckily, this balcony doesn’t face the public street. Instead, it is located on the opposite side, above the distributor’s paved backyard.

You carefully climb down, and after verifying that the lights inside are off and that everything seems to be quiet, you pick the lock of the balcony’s glass doors.

While slinking inside with quiet footsteps, you thoroughly observe your surroundings. You’re in a sort of lounging room, and you can confidently say that this is by far the most luxurious sight you’ve ever seen. This room is nothing like the typical interiors of the Underground. In most households, the walls are cracked and dirty, the flooring is made out of old creaking wooden planks, and all colors are muted and washed. This, on the other hand, is entirely different. The walls are perfectly white and sparkling clean, the hardwood flooring is covered with an expensive carpet, and the luxurious couches are made out of a rich burgundy color. All the dark oak furniture matches together, and every single piece looks heavy and expensive. You can’t believe such beauty can be part of the disgusting shithole that is this city, and it really makes you question how much money disappears in people’s pockets without anyone knowing. Seems like these rich suppliers, distributors, and merchants steal even more from the population than you had initially thought.

The greedy fucking bastards.

You’re just about to take an expensive-looking little clock on one of the cabinets, when you hear something downstairs.

Your entire body freezes, and you listen attentively.

It almost sounded like… a low grunt?

You jump when loud barking echoes through the house.

Oh FUCK.

The next moment, you hear what sounds like a hoard of unleashed demons running up the stairs. The dogs sound furious, and their dinner will be served if you don’t hurry the fuck up and get out of there NOW.

You frantically sprint to the balcony with a group of furious beasts on your tail, and you manage to grab the thick rope and haul yourself up just in time before the dogs storm on the balcony. They're angrily barking beneath you, and your heart sinks in fear at the thought of slipping due to your sweaty hands, and getting shred to pieces.

With dread twisting your gut, you look down as you keep hauling yourself up. The view is horrifying. Four black massive dogs are jumping up, trying to reach you, looking like they would even swallow your bones whole after eating your flesh.

You quickly look up again and concentrate on hauling yourself up, scared the sight of the dogs will make you so dizzy you will lose your grip.

You keep going up and up, and when you finally reach the roof, you collapse on the surface. The dogs are still barking loudly, but at least you’re safe now. You look up, panting, thanking every deity that might exist to have spared you from getting eaten alive.

Four dogs. Massive ones, at that. Who the HELL has four monsters in their house?

You groan when you realize the stupidity of your question.

Rich bastards do, of course. If anyone would have a plethora of guard dogs, it’s them.

You smack your forehead with the palm of your hand. You should have known. Of course the man wouldn’t leave his house unguarded. Not in a city like this.

It took you by surprise because you aren’t used to people having guard dogs. It’s not that such dogs aren’t highly needed, but the majority of people are just too poor to have them. They struggle to feed themselves, let alone feed an entire other living being. Additionally, there aren’t any dog shelters here, so dogs are either bought from above-surface, which is expensive, or they're retrieved by capturing the puppies of stray dogs on the streets. Either way, it's not a common occurrence, and you completely missed that of course the rich fucks would own multiple of such beasts.

…What the hell do you do now? You can’t break in with these dogs around, that’s for sure.

Maybe you can poison them?

No. Not only would you feel an embarrassing amount of guilt, but you’re also a hundred percent certain that the man has trained his dogs to refuse food from strangers. There is no way you could make them eat something. Poisoning dogs is the most obvious, cheapest tactic, and there is exactly zero chance that the shithead would not have taken this method into account.

Shit.

Shit.

You're doomed. You can do nothing but wait until the guy comes back, and hope he will leave his house again tomorrow. Maybe, by miracle, he will do something related to his next big trade.

You snort out of misery. This is a joke. What are the chances you will catch any helpful information? You're fucked.

Anger slowly replaces the feelings of helplessness when you think about a pair of cruel, silver eyes.

Levi. That FUCKER.

Did he know about this? He, or one of his men, has stalked this place before, right? What are the chances they didn’t know?

Slim. The chances are very slim.

Maybe failing won’t be so bad after all. If Levi decides he has proven your worthlessness, and decides to put an end to you, you will at least have the pleasure of fighting him again. You will be REALLY pissed if you die before seriously wounding that asshole though. Maybe you should sharpen your knives a bit before going back to the headquarters.

You let out an exhausted sigh and close your eyes. For now you can do nothing but wait, while imagining satisfying scenarios of strangling the gremlin with your bare hands.

...................

The anger from yesterday is slowly simmering down as the new day goes by, and this is giving room for hopelessness again.  

This is your last day, and that fuckhead is not leaving his damn house.

The few weak rays of sunshine that manage to descend into the city every day are slowly disappearing. With that, the faint bit of hope you’ve been holding onto is crippling away as well. The man has not left his house once, and you suspect today might be his day off. That, or he is working from home.

Either way, it seems the mysterious force of luck hasn’t been in the mood to help you out today, and it looks like you’re about to royally fail your first mission.

You’ve been trying to come up with another plan, you really have, but there’s nothing that could possibly convince the guy to willingly let you inside and stop his dogs from devouring you alive. People here are way too cautious, no one would be stupid enough to let a stranger inside. If you had any information about him, you might be able to come up with something, but you don’t even know the man’s name.

In conclusion: you’re screwed.

You don’t think Levi and Furlan won’t let you perform the other tasks they have in mind, but it goes without saying that completely failing your very first mission is a terrible way to persuade them you can be useful to the gang. Levi might have set you up, but that doesn’t change the fact you aren’t able to prove him wrong.

You groan at the thought of having to flee your home and hide at the other side of the city to escape death. The fact you had a terrible night’s sleep on this rooftop, and that your back was angrily protesting against the hard surface during the entire night, is not making you any more excited to become homeless.

As the hours pass by, all you can do is imagine some dramatic, vivid images of the tragic life that awaits you.

That is, until you suddenly hear the front door opening.

You jump up and furrow your brows. You don’t know exactly what time it is, but you’re sure it’s already past midnight. Why is this man leaving his house now?

You don’t wait around to think about it. Instead, you find the quickest way to descend the rooftop and follow him around.

Your heart jolts with hope when you see him entering a bar. He's probably going to get drunk, and this might be your one and only chance.

There aren’t many other bars or taverns open in this area, so the chance of him leaving this bar any time soon is quite slim. With this in mind, you decide to take the risk and march home for an outfit switch. If you want to get some information out of him, you will have to convince him to talk to you in the first place.

You rummage through your closet, and decide that wearing a dress might be your best option. You own two dresses: the white one you wore to rob Bobby, and a red one you sewed yourself a year ago. It’s simple, yet elegant and seductive, hugging your body in a very flattering way. This will do the trick for sure. You strap the thinnest knife you own around your thigh underneath your dress, and hope it will never be visible through the tight fabric. To finish off, you put on a long vest to hide your attire because you really don’t want to get harassed on the streets. You quickly put an additional knife in your vest for extra safety, before leaving your house.

You usually don’t like wandering around in the city at night, but you have to admit that in the rich area the distributor lives in, it’s almost pleasant. The streets and the buildings are significantly cleaner, there are fewer men who try to lure you closer, and you don’t constantly have to dodge drunken fights.

The city almost looks beautiful.

To your surprise, you also come across some MPs on two occasions, and you wonder whether they might be paid to protect the rich scammers who have connections with greedy merchants above ground. Seems like the economic inequality in this city goes even further than you had thought. You used to believe everyone in the Underground was poor to some extent, but you’re continuously being proven wrong.

When you finally arrive at the bar, you take a deep breath and pray that the rich shithead is still inside.

The moment you open the door of the bar, you're met with the heavy smell of tobacco and beer. The air is musty and consumed by smoke, and the entire room is filled with loud, drunken, but enthusiastic chatter. It isn't unpleasant, though. You’re used to this after all the nights you’ve spent at Gary’s bar.

You quickly scan the place, and surely, you notice the greedy ratbag sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and chatting with someone next to him.

You approach the bar counter and casually seat yourself on the free stool next to him. While ordering a drink, you take off your jacket to display the burning red dress beneath it.

The conversation next to you immediately dies down, and you notice him glaring at you.

“May I ask what a beautiful lady like you is doing here all alone?”

You turn around to look at him. Going by the small, but not too noticeable wrinkles tracing his features, he must be around his forties. His brown mustache slightly covers the top part of his upper lip, and his green eyes are looking at you with a drunken haze. He seems quite tipsy already, which forms a great advantage.

You let out an exasperated sigh while cracking a little mocking smile. “I was just wondering that myself.”

He takes a deep drag from his cigarette. “Hmm, maybe I can help with that.”

“Oh really?” you ask, while seductively looking him up and down.

The barman hands you your glass, and as you try to reach for change, you notice the ratbag is quicker. He slides a couple of coins to the barman to pay for your drink, and proceeds to buy himself an extra drink.

So far so good. He is paying for you and he is getting tipsier. Excellent.

You thank him for his kind gesture with a sweet smile, and exchange names. He, the distributor you need to spy on, is called Karl, while his friend sitting next to him is called Stephan. Evidently, you give them a false name, and the three of you proceed with a little bit of small talk. You purposely let the chit-chat become a little flirtatious between you and Karl, and it doesn’t take too long before Stephan falls out of the conversation and starts chattering with someone else next to him.

With Karl’s full attention on you now, you can start to steer the conversation in the direction you want.

“I’ve never seen you in this bar before, I’m sure I would’ve noticed otherwise,” Karl notes as he takes another draw from his cigarette.

“Yeah, I don’t go to bars that often, but I really needed a drink today. Got robbed earlier,” you mumble while tracing your index finger over your glass.

“Shit, you alright?” he asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

You shrug with a somber sigh. “Yeah, just pissed. Those damn thieves.” 

“Tell me about it,” he grumbles before taking a big gulp of his beer, finishing his glass. He immediately orders a new drink. Good.

You turn to properly look at him. “Sounds like you’re all too familiar with it as well?”

He sighs. “Yeah… Not only did someone try to break into my house yesterday, but I also got robbed big time a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that sucks,” you coo softly. You gently place your hand on his shoulder in a seemingly sweet, consoling way. Judging by the way he is looking at you, your move seems to be working.

“What happened? Pickpocketing or...?” You don’t want to sound too curious, but considering he seems to be tipsy already, you doubt this will raise any suspicions.

He hesitates a bit, but he seems to decide there’s no issue with being honest with you.

“Robbed me during a whole damn trade,” he mumbles bitterly, his expression turning even more somber than before.

“A trade? What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’re a drug dealer,” you utter with a disappointed tone.

“A drug dealer?” he huffs arrogantly.

Seems you successfully hit his pride. Perfect.

He leans in, and his proximity combined with the strong smell of beer and tobacco on his breath makes it surprisingly difficult to repress the urge to flinch away.

“I supply the very ingredients you’re drinking right now, sweetheart,” he whispers with a dark grin.

Arrogant and full of himself, just as expected. The way he completely misses that everyone in this city thinks people like him are absolute scum is beyond you. They’re all well known to greedily fill their pockets to let the rest of the city starve, but he doesn’t seem to realize or care. His arrogance is a great advantage for you though, because pride is a very powerful thing to play with.

“Oh really? You’re a supplier?” you respond while softly biting your bottom lip, pretending you’re thrilled about the fact he is one of the few rich men of the city. You can only hope your pretended lust is hiding the actual disgust you’re feeling.

“Absolutely,” he hums as he comes even closer to you. His slightly droopy eyes hungrily consume you as a proud grin plasters on his face. Ugh.

Trying your hardest to hide your distaste towards him, you seductively mutter an “Interesting...” while looking him up and down in a flirtatious manner. Then, your expression turns more saddened. “You must’ve lost a lot, then.”

He sighs, his grin slowly faltering. “Yeah… You can say that.” He straightens himself, creating a safe distance between you two again that you're more than thankful for.

“Can’t you hire guards or something?”

“I do, but these bastards always come in gangs. But don’t worry about it honey, there will be twice as many guards next time, we’ll get them assholes.”

Twice as many guards, noted.

“G-Gangs?” you stammer with fake anguish. “You could get hurt! What if they outnumber your guards and hurt you?” You worryingly put your hand on his arm again.  

“Worried about me, sweetheart? Adorable lil thing aren’t ya?” He grins and leans in till he’s way too close again, relishing the attention and worry you’re showering him with.

“Of course I’m worried. Now promise me you’ll set those trades in a safe place.”

He grins. “Don’t worry, I asked to get the goods directly delivered to our warehouse this time. I’ll be fine.”

Bingo. So the deal will happen in their warehouse, meaning the sellers from Topside will have all the money on hand when they leave that warehouse.

But there’s still so much you don’t know. In which warehouse will the deal occur? Which day will it happen? With who? How much money are we talking about?

…How the fuck are you supposed to access all this information? There’s no way you can ask him these things. Levi set you up for failure. You’re already lucky Karl is tipsy enough to blatantly ramble about his work in the first place.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by a loud enthusiastic cheer behind you. When you turn around, you see one of the guys in the bar standing on a chair, rapidly gulping down more than a liter of beer in one go. This is something you sometimes see at Gary’s bar as well. The guy probably lost a bet of some sort, and has to now rapidly drink a ridiculous amount of beer in a matter of seconds. Drunken macho shenanigans, but a good way to lift up the spirits.

Suddenly, you realize how you can enter Karl’s house and search for documents without having his dogs devouring you. This might be your chance.

“Impressive,” you mumble with calculated admiration as you stare at the sight in front of you.

Karl snorts, but you don’t miss the slight hint of irritation in his reaction. “Impressive? Is that what you’re into?” He clearly feels superior to those men, and the fact you have shifted your attention from him to them seems to hurt his ego. God how arrogant can someone be.

“Secret thing of mine, I like when men can drink. Maybe it’s because I can’t, but there’s just something so attractive about it,” you murmur as you pretend to look at the man inhaling an entire liter of beer with lust.

He lifts a brow and huffs.  “Really?”

“Mhm.”

You feel his gaze lingering on you as you lasciviously stare at the men in front of you, and you purposely let Karl stare long enough to give him the time to think this through. You then turn to him with a mischievous, playful smile. “Which one of you two can drink the most?” you ask while jerking your chin to Stephan.

He snorts. “This boy?” He smacks his hand on the man’s shoulder, who then turns around to look at both of you in confusion. “Can’t even have two beers without getting lightheaded.”

“Oh shut up, you know damn well I can take much more than you,” Stephan protests with a challenging smirk.

Karl snorts. “You think your skinny ass sounds believable?”

“Guess I’ll just need proof then,” you tease with a mischievous smile.

Karl looks you up and down, contemplating whether he should take your challenge. But his pride is too big, and you’ve teased him too much. He can’t refuse, especially since he is tipsy already.

He leans in so close that you can feel the warmth of his face, and you can’t say his warm breath is particularly pleasant either.

“If I win, I expect a little compensation.”

Yikes. You’ll have to push him till he’s almost passed out, till you’re sure you’d easily overpower him in every single situation. Though you're carrying a knife beneath your dress, he can’t see it. You can’t blow your cover of casual-seductive-girl who is innocently going to a bar for no-reason-in-particular. Furlan made it perfectly clear you shouldn’t get your hands dirty, so you will have to be tactical about this.

You force a lustful grin. “Alright, show me what you got, big boy.”

He smirks triumphantly before turning to the barman.

And so the game begins.

You keep coming up with ridiculous competitive tests, such as: “who can drink three shots of vodka the fastest?” or “okay now prove to me you can finish that beer in one gulp”, and whatever other ludicrous things you manage to come up with. You cheer, you tease, you stroke their egos whenever necessary, and you pretend their drinking has you falling head over heels for them.

You hit them exactly at their weakest spots: their pride.

You keep pushing as tactically as you can, and as time passes, their eyes become more droopy, their sentences turn into uncoordinated rambles, and their movements become clumsy as hell.

“l- lemme go take a p-isSsss” Karl mumbles.

You highly suspect he's going to the bathroom to puke, because when he stands up, he trips over his own stool and falls on the ground.

…He is drunk as hell.

You hear him grunting on the floor, and after dragging himself across the ground for two seconds, he quickly hauls himself up on his feet again, and hastily hurries to the bathroom.

Yep. Definitely going to puke.

You turn to glance at Stephan, and it looks like he is about to pass out any second. He's leaning his head on his hands, clearly fighting to fall asleep.

“Tch, always the same with these two,” the barman grumbles. You can’t help but chuckle. He reminds you a little bit of Gary with his bald head and his calm, but amusing demeanor.

After some chatting with the barman, Karl comes stumbling back, with exactly zero balance. When his gaze falls on you, you notice a certain wickedness creeping into his eyes.

Oh lord, here we go.

You try your hardest to hide your disgust as he clumsily blunders towards you and boxes you in, both hands leaned on each side of the counter behind you. He comes closer, and you almost gag at the stench of alcohol and what can only be a hint of vomit.

You’re going to have to smack Levi SO hard for putting you through this shit.

“Looks like Stephaaan is deaaaaddd. N-now where’s that c-compensation of mine?”

“Let’s go to your place,” you whisper as you push your hand on his chest. It seems like a seductive move, but in reality, you just desperately want to get away from his stench.

He simply looks at you with drunken lust, looking completely out of it. You have no choice but to drag him out of the bar, while doing your very best to not make him trip because holy shit the man has zero stability.

The way back is an absolute pain in the ass. He barely knows how to get home. Luckily, you know his address, and he's way too drunk to notice that you’re always pushing him in the right direction.

Once you finally arrive, he grabs his keys and tries to open the door, but the man is struggling. After a couple of seconds, you impatiently take it from him and open the door yourself.

Once inside, he grabs you and looks at you with lustful eyes. Ugh. 

You’re just about to push him away -somewhat seductively, of course- when you hear loud barking coming from upstairs. It only takes a brief moment for his four massive dogs to appear, and you can’t help but tense up as they approach you while angrily barking in your direction.

Karl mumbles something incomprehensible to the dogs, but this doesn’t exactly calm them down. Though they’re not doing anything too alarming yet, you feel like they might be recognizing your smell, because they won’t stop grunting and barking at you.

…You might need to get rid of the dogs if you peacefully want to search Karl’s house.

“Can you please put the dogs away? they make me uneasy,” you pout.

Karl nearly loses his balance when he turns around to look at you, and he proceeds to give you a drunken, confused glare.

“Or else I’m out, I’m really scared of dogs.”

“Alrightalright” he mumbles, before clumsily leading his dogs to another room and locking the door.

Good. Now that that’s out of the way, you need to get rid of him. He's drunk as shit, so if you just get him to lay down for a bit, there’s no doubt he will pass out in an instant.

“Bedroom?” you ask seductively as he lumbers back to you.

“Oh? Goin straaight to the point? I *hick* I- like it.”

To your dismay, he keeps approaching you, but you push him away. “Bedroom,” you whisper again, with more urgency in your voice. This time, he gives you a hungry smirk and obliges.

He clumsily leads you upstairs, and once you arrive in his bedroom, you dominantly push him on the bed. He looks at you with dazy, lustful eyes, but that immediately falters the moment you speak up again.

“Wait here, I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up first. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He grunts in protest and mumbles something incomprehensible, but you ignore him and quickly walk out of the bedroom.

You have no idea where his bathroom is, so you just wait in his corridor for about fifteen minutes. When you go back, he is asleep, passed out on his bed.

You let out a deep sigh of relief.

Time to get to work.

Chapter Text

It takes hours to go through all the documents in Karl’s office. He clearly isn't the type to throw old contracts and documents away, and it's not making your task any easier. The fact he can’t notice anyone probed through his documents is a massive hindrance as well. Everything needs to be placed back exactly the way you found it, which makes the search extremely slow and tedious. Though it's exhausting to fight against sleep for hours on end, it's worth it, because the fruits of your labor end up being particularly sweet. Not only do you find all the information you need about Karl's next trade, but you also discover documents containing information about some other trades he will perform in the future. Knowing full well you can’t steal the documents, you take some paper from his desk, and write down every information that might be useful to Levi and Furlan.

The bastards better be pleased.

When you’re finished, you glance at the clock on the wall. It’s already eight in the morning, meaning you only have three hours left before the meeting at the hideout. Welp, guess you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.

There's no point going home. You’re much closer to the hideout than home, so it's better to just find a tavern to go eat something, and wait there until it’s time to go.

Before leaving Karl’s house, you decide to freshen up a bit. Might as well use that bathroom of his while you’re at it.

While tip-toeing around, you steal a quick glance into his bedroom and crack a satisfied smile when you see him fast asleep. Oh boy can the fucker snore.

You wander through the house until you find the bathroom. When you open the door and walk in, your mouth drops in awe. It’s huge, the white floor tiles are shining, the bathtub is massive, and the sink is covered with a bunch of expensive soaps and scented products. The most shocking thing of all is that the man actually has warm water. What the hell? You didn’t even think such bathrooms could exist in the Underground. Many people don’t even have bathrooms to begin with. With the way it’s looking, you’re pretty sure Karl has enough money to buy citizenship to go live above surface. Seems like he's willingly staying here, which makes sense, because how else can he profit from the poor? He would probably rather be a rich scammer in the Underground, than a poor, honest worker above-surface.

You shamelessly go over the collection of scented products and choose an orchid scented soap to quickly wash your hair and body in the sink. Once you've rinsed all the smell of smoke and alcohol out of you, you grab the orchid soap and slip it in your bag. That’s for him being such a pain in the ass, and for being a selfish piece of shit in general. Besides, he probably won’t notice anyway with that huge collection of his.

Finally feeling somewhat refreshed, you leave Karl’s house and head into the nearest tavern you can find. You’re still exhausted, but eating does wonders. The warmth of the food slowly brings your energy back.

When you’ve finished, you pay for your meal and make your way to the hideout. Luckily, the stairwell is just as empty as last time.

You knock on the door, and Furlan opens up.

“Hey, come in,” he greets as he opens the door for you and lets you inside. “How did it go?”

“Pretty good, I think you’ll be satisfied. I managed to fetch some information about other upcoming trades as well. Wrote everything on here,” you explain as you take your notes out of your jacket, waving them in the air.

He raises his brows, clearly impressed. “Alright, excellent. Let’s go to the table and see what you got.”

The moment you both seat yourselves around the table at the back of the room, you hand him your notes.

“Levi isn’t here?” you ask while he scans your spy-work.

“No, but he’ll come in a bit, so we’ll wait around till he arrives if that’s okay with you.”

You nod, but you feel slightly uneasy at the thought of seeing him again. You feel way more comfortable around Furlan. At least he has never looked at you like he wanted to burn you alive.

When Furlan is finished going through all your notes, he puts the papers down and looks at you, appearing genuinely impressed. “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t expect you to come back with this much information. You really outdid yourself there. Good job.”

You can’t help the little smile on your face as you mumble a thanks.

“How did you do it?” he asks, his striking blue eyes curiously observing you.

“Let’s say I had to get him a little drunk for this one. Had to keep pushing till he almost passed out so he would let me inside his house. He didn’t suspect a thing so there’s nothing to worry about.”

He chuckles. “Must’ve been tiring. You did well.”

“You could say that,” you mumble, but not without giving him a little smile in return.

He sighs. “Guess we just have to wait for Levi now. He’ll probably want to give the details about your next mission if he’s satisfied enough, which I’m sure he will be.”

Furlan puts your notes aside and grabs a bag resting on the corner of the table. With a swift motion, he flips it over, and a thick stack of money spills out. You nearly gasp at the sight of it, the sheer amount catching you off guard.

“What’s that?” you ask.

“The money we stole from last mission. I still need to count it, and the boys are getting impatient. Hope you don’t mind if I do it now while we’re waiting around?”

“No worries, go ahead,” you assure him.

The last mission, the one you interfered with, the one where Levi nearly killed you. You took a substantial part of that money, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty when you’re sitting in front of Furlan like this. You also feel uneasy when you think about the fact that nothing has been forgiven or forgotten. Levi, and maybe even Furlan, still seem to want you dead somewhere, considering they didn’t even warn you about the guarding dogs, and considering they only gave you two days despite knowing you wouldn’t simply be able to break in. You don’t want to say anything about it, but it bothers you too much.

“Furlan…” you mutter before he has time to start counting the cash.

“Hm?”

You hesitate a little. “Did you know this Karl guy had four huge guarding dogs? They nearly shred me to pieces when I tried to break into his home the first time.”

He looks surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“But you have spied on him before, right?”

“Levi did.”

Of course he did.

“Is Levi also the one who decided to give me two days?”

Furlan glances away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face.  “Yes. He wanted to test the full extent of your abilities.”

“Right,” you mutter bitterly.

Just as you had initially guessed, Furlan isn’t responsible for this. It’s all just Levi messing with you, messing with your life. Doesn't matter whether he actually wanted to test you or not, you don't doubt there are malicious intentions behind his decision as well. When Gary told you no one gets away with challenging Levi, you knew he must be the vengeful type. That’s the only way someone can get to his position anyway. Nothing else can be expected from one of the most feared criminals in the city, really. He might have had enough reasons to spare you, but that doesn’t mean his hunger for at least some type of retribution has been stilled. Considering his skill set and status, you’re sure he isn’t used to someone getting away with robbing him multiple times and wounding him multiple times, so it comes to no surprise he would want to make you suffer.

This isn’t good, and you’re not sure how you can possibly ever win when he is the one in control of everything.

Furlan’s eyes flick up to yours. hH regards you for a moment. “Look, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry about it too much. Just do what you have to do, prove you can be trusted, and I promise you it will be fine. You did so well on this first mission that I’m sure you’re capable enough. If your intentions are truly genuine, you’ll be alright, okay?”

You sigh. “Yeah… okay.”

You can’t say you’re fully reassured, but you suppose that if there’s one person who can truly assess Levi and keep him somewhat in check, it would be Furlan. He wouldn’t reassure you if you were completely doomed, so you will just have to trust his words. It's a blessing he seems to be somewhat on your side. Unlike Levi, he doesn’t seem to carry any particular malicious intent towards you. You’re sure you would be more pissed if someone had consecutively robbed you the way you did with them, so Furlan really deserves credits for that.

He's just about to start counting the money, when the front door suddenly violently slams open. You almost jump as someone comes barging in, a guy you vaguely recognize as one of the gang members. He looks alarmed, and his gaze quickly darts from you to Furlan.

“Furlan, there’s an emergency, you have to come now.”

“W-What?” Furlan stammers, brows furrowed in surprised confusion.

“It’s those thugs from last week, just like Levi had feared. We need some backup, immediately.”

“Fuck,” Furlan mutters under his breath.

Before you can say anything, he brusquely stands up and stalks towards the front door. Right before leaving, he quickly turns around, suddenly remembering you’re still in the room.

“Wait here. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?” His features are etched with deep lines of worry.

You quickly nod, and the next moment, the door is slammed shut and they’re both gone. 

… Well, that was intense.

They both looked truly alarmed, and you can’t help but feel a bit anxious for them. Based on their expressions, it looked pretty bad.

You take your jacket off with a sigh. It’s probably going to take a little while, so you might as well make yourself comfortable. With your head resting in your palm, you look around, unsure of what to do now. Your gaze then darts to the money.

Furlan accidentally left you alone with all his cash. If only Levi or any of the other boys knew. You’d better not tell anyone for his sake.

…Or for your sake.

You can’t help but stare at the treasure in front of you. It’s so much money, holy shit.

It's best not to stare at it too long, so you walk to one of the two couches in the room and make yourself comfortable. You try to distract yourself by fiddling with the fabric of your red dress, but you can’t keep your mind off of the large sum of money resting on the table behind you.

Five minutes go by.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

How long is this going to take? Can Furlan please just come to save you from the magnet that is all this money lying on the table?

After a couple more minutes, you stand up with a defeated sigh. Your curiosity is getting the best of you, and you can’t seem to stop yourself from slowly sauntering towards the table.

Damn. It feels strange to stand in front of such a large amount of cash. This, along with everything you have stolen previously, would probably be enough for Luna’s treatment. It’s a painful thing, being so close yet so far from saving the one person you love the most. You obviously can’t take it. If you do, you will be dead the moment they find out.

…But it’s so tempting, especially considering your time is almost up. You only have around a month left, and that is only a mere approximation. What if it’s already too late by the time you finish performing their tests and you perform your first heist? Let’s also not forget that the cash will have to be split equally among the members, meaning the money you will receive per heist will be significantly less than what you’re used to. What if it takes many heists to reach the required sum? Won’t it be too late by then?

The unreliability of everything makes you want to steal the cash and just accept your inevitable death, but you refuse to let your mind wander in that direction for too long. No, it will be alright, you still have a bit of time. Control yourself.

You know you can’t take it, but... you can’t stop staring at it. Your fingers glide across the taunting banknotes as you try to guess the total value.

Furlan didn’t count this money yet, he has no idea how much is lying here. This means that technically, you could get away with stealing a part of it, which would increase the chances of saving Luna.

But it would also probably be a terrible idea. Not only is there a slight chance they would notice, but you would honestly also feel a little guilty. They’re trying to trust you here, they’re giving you the opportunity to join their gang, so the least you can do is not rob them again.

You take a stack of the treasure to closely observe it. It’s fascinating how some pieces of paper can hold this much power. It’s so tempting to just… take it.

NO. Stop.

You need to get a hold of yourself before you do anything you might regret. You put the money back in its place, and take a few steps away from the table. The more physical distance you create with the table, the less tempted you will be to steal.

“Tsk. Tsk.”

You almost shriek in surprise, quickly turning around with your heart leaping in your chest.

It’s Levi.

He's leaning against the wall, silently observing you.

How…??!

“Furlan would let this slide, but that was a little too hesitant for my liking,” he murmurs dangerously.

It takes two seconds of confusion until everything clicks.

There was no urgency at all.

Furlan and that guy just purposely put up an act. They wanted to test you, see what you would do if you would be alone with the money, and Levi was here all along to observe your every reaction. He's standing right beside the door of the adjacent room, meaning he was probably secretly waiting in that room all along. The fucking snakes.

How did you not notice his presence at all? How did you not hear him walking out of that room, and comfortably posing himself against the wall behind you? You already learned from your experience in the caverns that Levi is as sly as a fox, but the mere extent of his stealth gets you every time. It’s terrifying.

Levi looks you up and down and clicks his tongue in displeasure. You suddenly feel extremely uneasy. The way he looks at you is beyond threatening, but even worse, he looks almost exhilarated to make you suffer. You don’t doubt for a second that he is the one behind all of this again. Even though you didn’t take any money, he seems all too thrilled he caught you doing something, and now, he's coming to claim his prize.

No one can help you, no one can save you, Furlan isn’t there to simmer Levi’s wrath, and all you can do is watch as he’s preparing himself to shred you to pieces.

He approaches you, slowly sliding his fingers over each couch as he walks past them, increasing your nerves with every step he takes in your direction. As he comes closer, you notice he starts to walk in circles around you in a menacing, predatory way.

“I wasn’t going to take anything, I was just looking,” you argue with a hoarse voice while he slowly disappears behind you.

You absolutely hate that you can’t see him anymore. Having him slowly saunter behind you makes him ten times more threatening.

When he reappears again from the other side of your shoulder, he seems to be a little closer, and the way he glares at you is even more menacing than before.

“Would you have grabbed the money with those filthy little hands if you knew I was watching?” he demands. The dark glint in his eyes is incredibly unnerving, and you can tell he's contemplating all the possible things he could do to you.

“No,” you answer in blunt honesty, which you instantly regret.

“That’s what I thought. You sneaky. Fucking. Rat.” he hisses sinisterly.

“Look, I was just curious, anyone would be. I’m not stupid enough to steal from you again,” you plead. Your gut-stabbing anxiety suffocates your throat as he narrows his eyes at every word you stammer out.

He disappears behind you again, and you close your eyes in a vain attempt to calm down. Relax, he's just intimidating you, he won’t do anything, you’ll be okay.

Suddenly, you feel his presence right behind you. You don’t dare to look back, but you can feel the warmth of his body. Your eyes widen in anguish, and you can’t stop your breaths from accelerating.

You gasp in surprise when you feel something cold and sharp pushing against your upper arm. A blade, you realize in terror. You don’t even dare to look down at his knife on your skin. You’re frozen, too afraid to move, too afraid of his unpredictability.

Your hairs stand on end as he gently traces his knife over your bare skin in an almost teasing manner, slowly sliding it up to your shoulder.

“Do you think I didn’t see the hesitation and eagerness in every part of your body when you were pawing on our money?” he asks, voice dripping with menace.

He slides his cold knife along the length of your shoulder, and you can feel the brief moment he passes the thin strap of your dress. The touch of his blade is only a mere, gentle caress, yet it's beyond threatening.

“Do I look blind to you?” he murmurs softly in your ear.

You’re paralyzed. You have no idea whether he actually expects an answer from you or not. All you can focus on is his threatening knife, his menacing presence right behind you, and your raging heartbeat hammering in your chest.

When you don’t answer, he painfully increases the pressure on his knife as he drags it further up your shoulder. He uses enough force to make your breath hitch, but not enough to cut your flesh open.

“Do I. Look. Blind. To you?” he repeats dangerously.

You quickly shake your head, almost frantic.

“Good,” he whispers as he reduces the force on his knife again.

He gently pushes your hair aside, and you shudder at the feeling of his warm breath softly grazing the nape of your neck.

His knife descends your collarbone in agonizing slowness. The cool metal caressing your skin would almost be pleasant if the situation wasn’t so terrifying.

“Now, what did I tell you about obedience?” 

You know what he's doing. The easiest way to get use out of you is by cowering you into utter compliance and submission. Though there's clearly a rational use for this, you're sure he enjoys it too. The sadistic glint in his eyes during your interrogation suggests this might even be one of the reasons he let you go in the first place: for the pleasure of tormenting you. He got a taste of it during the interrogation, and now he's here to further soothe his hunger, to further quench his thirst for revenge.

And the worst is that there’s nothing you can do about it. You know that if you even try to reach for your weapon, he won’t hesitate to finish you on the spot. His blade is already on your skin, you can’t do anything. There’s no way of escape, and all you can do is hope for his mercy.

He moves closer, until you can feel his soft breath scorching the shell of your ear.   

“Tell me, did I not make myself clear last time?” he whispers tauntingly in your ear, his cold blade now reaching the hollow at the base of your throat. His words are menacing and dangerous, but his voice is almost nauseatingly sweet.

Your entire body is on goosebumps. His aura is terrifying and threatening, but he goes about it in a devilishly enticing way to torment you. He could hurt you, he could murder you on the spot, yet, he resorts to teasing you with the mere idea. His words are poison coated with honey, sweet taunting threats that tease you with the possibility of excruciating pain. His cold blade is dangerously gentle, yet unpredictable. He could drag you to hell at any moment, and all you can do is watch how he claims complete control over you.

His sharp knife slowly glides up your throat, ascending your windpipe. When he reaches the soft skin under your chin, he applies more pressure, forcing your head back. As your head keeps going back and back, his lips ghost from your ear down to your jaw, and his raven hair starts to softly tickle your temple. He's making sure not to touch you, there isn’t one single place your bodies connect, but his proximity makes you dizzy. The contrast between the cool metal against your skin and the warmth of his physical presence causes a fog to settle over your mind.

Your breath hitches as he slowly glides his hand around your delicate throat, the first direct skin-to-skin contact. He dangerously lets it rest there, like a venomous snake comfortably wrapping itself around the one frail spot that keeps you alive. He isn’t doing anything, he isn’t applying any pressure, but you know he could destroy you at any moment. He has you completely under his power.

He's putting you right in your fucking place.

Your head is spinning. It’s too much.

His lips ghosting over the sensitive parts of your jaw. His deadly, cold blade dangerously kissing your skin with agonizing gentleness. His menacing hand teasing you over the edge between life and death. The lack of touch, yet the dizzying proximity of his presence. The taunting danger of his words as he completely dominates and overpowers you. The nerve-wracking unpredictability of it all.

The mere fact you both know he could do whatever the hell he wants with you.

Your heart is racing, you’re suffocated by helplessness and a storm of indecipherable emotions. You have no idea what you’re feeling, you have no idea what you should be feeling, but the traitorous part of your brain is stirring something within you you’re trying your hardest to repress. But the more you try to repress it, the more it fights back. The more it wants.

Before you know it, your body has completely turned against you. Betrayed you.

Why the FUCK are you enjoying this?

You shudder as his lips slowly ghost from your jaw back to the shell of your ear.

“Do I really need to repeat myself again for you?” he murmurs darkly, his deep voice vibrating against the shell of your ear. You can almost feel the movement of his lips against your skin, making you inhale a shaky breath.

When you don’t answer, he forces his blade further into your skin while adding pressure on your throat with his hand. At that, a sound escapes your lips, something between a whimper and a moan.

You immediately tense up, and his movements come to an abrupt stop.

…S H I T.

It crept in your voice. It might have been coated with a layer of fear, but the arousal in your moan was as clear as day. His reaction is enough to tell you he heard it too. He knows exactly in what state he managed to put you in, and the fact you tensed up only confirms what he already knows.

A wash of crushing shame flows over you when you hear a dark chuckle in your ear.

“And now you bring your weird fucking perversions into this?”

You wish nothing more than to bury yourself into the ground, shrivel yourself into pieces and die. This is SO unfair. He is the one whispering things in your ear, what does he expect?

No actually— what the fuck is wrong with YOU?

Your face heats up as you frantically try to get yourself out of this horrifying situation. “What? No I don’t—that wasn’t—” but it’s so painfully obvious, and your stuttering mess is making this about a hundred times worse.

He huffs in sinister amusement and pushes you away from him.

“Spare your energy. I’ll let your little hesitation slide for now. Now get out of my sight.”

When you turn around to face him, there’s something strange about his gaze, something you can’t quite place.

But you’re way too embarrassed and shaken up to try to figure it out. You quickly look away, grab your jacket and stalk to the front door, body ablaze from embarrassment.

In a matter of seconds, you’re outside again.

…Well that was fucking humiliating.

As you walk home, the only thing you can feel is crushing shame and disbelief. What in the actual fuck possessed you to enjoy his little game? What cruel part of your traitorous brain decided to turn against you and surrender to that sadistic thug? The sound of your moan is still echoing in your mind, and you’re sure he isn’t going to forget about it any time soon either.

You can feel it already. This moan of yours is going to bite you back in the ass and haunt you for eternity.

Chapter Text

Today is the much-dreaded day you will have to perform your first task with Levi, and you wonder why the ground can’t simply do you the sweet favor of swallowing you whole.

The night of the embarrassing incident, a letter telling you when your next task would be was shoved beneath your door. Needless to say, the stark reminder you’d have to see Levi again, and after only two days no less, wasn’t particularly pleasant.

Up until now, your waking hours have entirely been filled with the lovely occupancy of cringing to death, and saying it sucks is a massive understatement. Every time you try to think of something else, your brain harasses you with vivid memories of your moan and the dark chuckle in your ear that followed.

You want to blame Levi for the incident entirely, but honestly, you can only blame yourself. You still can’t fathom how you got to enjoy his little session of wrath, and you wish you could slap your past-self so hard she would pass out.

Though, in your defense, you didn’t get one hour of sleep that night thanks to him. The night before wasn’t much better either. Your brain was turned to mush, and for the sake of your pride, you’d like to claim that that’s the only, and truly the ONLY reason you surrendered to him.

And honestly, he wasn’t innocent in all of this either. Sure, he made certain not to touch you more than necessary, but that doesn’t excuse him from tauntingly ghosting his lips over your skin like that. Who doesn’t get an intense feeling when someone gently pushes their hair aside and whispers things in their ear? Right? Or are you just this touch-starved?

And the way he was caressing you with his knife could honestly be mistaken for borderline sensual.

… Or maybe you’re just a delusional masochist who is deeply in denial.

Okay yes, probably the latter.

Ugh.

You suppose the core of the problem, the true reason you disgustingly submitted to him in the first place, is that he somehow manages to completely dominate you.

Honestly, it’s an issue. Since when do you let people crush you this easily? It’s infuriating. You hate to admit it, but he just simply seems to hold that power over you. You genuinely don’t remember ever being this afraid and intimidated by someone before, and you suppose it’s not for nothing he is such a well-known, reputable gang leader. You can’t explain it, but he exerts a certain dangerous, dominating aura, and to be fair, you do have every reason to fear him. He has shown you his capabilities on multiple occasions, and the (below-)average thugs you usually deal with are nothing compared to him. He's on an entirely different level, and you have no idea how to go about it.

Still, you need to stand up for yourself more. Sure, your compliance is crucial at the moment, but you can’t just let him intimidate you like this. You’re so much better than that.

Is his unexplainable impact on you caused by the fact he unintentionally scared you as a child? Is this some sort of weird long-term psychological consequence? Or does he just inherently hold this power in general? Or are you just weak?

Probably a good mix of it all.

Though you absolutely refuse to ever stoop this low again, you also know there is only so much you can do about it for now. You’re in a trial period, and you understand the importance of proving your compliance all too well. It’s a game you’ve accepted to play, and you need to push through, at least until you’re in the gang. Once you’re in, he won’t hold your life over your head anymore, and he can be damn sure you’ll stand up for yourself again.

Until then, you will simply have to deal with that fucking demon.

...................

With possibly even more reluctance than last time, you march out of your comforting home and make your way to the hideout. During your long walk, the only thing you can think about is how the hell you’re supposed to face Levi again after what happened. What will you even say to him? How should you react when he brings up the incident to humiliate you? Do you try to deny that he turned you on because you’re apparently a fucking touch-starved masochist? Do you ignore him? Should you maybe tease him and make him uncomfortable to take the power back?

Well, he did immediately back off when you moaned, despite that evil chuckle of his. Is acting like a sexually deprived cougar woman who wants to tear his clothes off the only way you can keep him and his wrathful games at bay? You’re not sure whether the thought makes you want to laugh or cry, but the distraction slightly alleviates the anxiousness that is racing through your body.

That is, until you finally arrive at your destination and detect a faint sound of chatter coming from the hideout. With every step you take closer, you feel yourself getting more nervous. The sound is definitely coming from the hideout.

Instead of taking your final turn, you decide to peep around the corner to see what’s going on.

You curse under your breath and let out a long, exasperated groan.

Isn’t life wonderful. You count around six gang members standing and sitting around the stairway of the headquarters.

What a lovely day, truly. Nothing quite like having to face Levi after that horrific incident, AND having to greet a group of men who hate you.

Taking several deep breaths, you try to muster up the courage to walk straight towards the group. Are you supposed to say hello? What if they don’t answer and just look at you with murderous eyes? Do you really want to go through that horrifically awkward experience? But if you ignore them, won’t that just be plain weir—

“How long are you planning on standing there like that?”

You gasp and turn around, before making direct eye-contact with a pair of blue-grey irises.

There he stands, several strides away, observing you cowardly hiding behind the wall.

Fucking fantastic.

Levi’s arms are crossed over each other as he watches you in silence. In the dim lighting of the alley you’re both in, the sharp contrast between his black hair and his silver-blue eyes looks even more striking than usual. Though you absolutely despise him, you can barely deny there’s something entrancing about his features.

He clicks his tongue in irritation. “Come here already.”

You hesitate and give him a wary look. Maybe you should just turn around and flee. Honestly, death seems preferable to facing him right now.

He frowns at your hesitation, and that's enough to convince you to push your melodramatic thoughts aside and just do as he says. While you approach him, your treacherous eyes appear to have developed a sudden deep interest in your surroundings, because they seem to do everything to avoid looking at him. The events from two days ago are still too fresh in your mind, causing you to circumvent eye-contact even when you’re standing right in front of him. Fuck’s sake. Why can’t you ever stop showing signs of weakness.

“You ready?” he asks calmly, and your eyes snap up to him in surprise.

No snarky remark about the incident to humiliate you further? Nothing to indicate that mortifying shit even happened in the first place? No demeaning words about the fact you were too afraid to go to his hideout with all his boys around? No insults to intimidate you?

… Just a genuine, and almost caring question?

To your surprise, his eyes don’t seem to carry the same unsettling harshness they usually do. He looks stoic and tired, sure, but he isn’t showing any particular signs of ill-intent towards you.

Why? Did your successful spy-work end up convincing him to give you a decent chance instead of humiliating you as a hobby? Or has he come to the — dare you say — rational conclusion he went too hard on you? Has he realized you’re a human being with her own problems, and thus her own reasons to act the way you do? Did he perhaps feel guilty for tormenting you the way he did?

His unexpected, softer demeanor indicates he might, but you don’t trust it at all. Maybe he's putting up a façade to gain your trust and crush you again afterward, or maybe his hunger for revenge has only been stilled momentarily, and it will grow back again in a day or two. He has given you no indication he isn’t a heartless monster, so you have no reason to believe so.

He lifts an eyebrow, which makes you realize he has been waiting for an answer all along.

“Yeah I’m ready,” you mutter quickly. You push your cape open to show him the weapons strapped on your thighs. “I didn’t know what we were going to do today, so I brought these just in case. Is that alright?”

With your cape out of the way, you catch his gaze lingering on your top for a fraction of a second before darting down to your knives.

Your face slightly heats as you realize you wore this same attire when he caught you that first time, and you wonder if he isn’t remembering the moment your buttons snapped open as well. 

He has seen half your breasts.

Actually, no — scratch that. He has seen the entirety of your breasts through that miserable excuse of a tank top when he interrogated you. He has seen your thighs, and good grief he has seen your nipples. Your neck and cheeks heat up aggressively as you realize Levi practically knows what your entire body looks like. He has seen every curve, every form through those thin pieces of fabric.

“That will do,” he mumbles as he scans your knives, but before he has the time to look up at you again and notice how flustered you are, you quickly turn around and march forward.

“Great, let’s go then.”

This is met with a brief moment of silence.

“… Where the fuck are you going?”

“W-what?” you stammer.

“It’s the other way.”

He seems mildly amused when you turn around and mutter an “Oh, right,” under your breath. Luckily, he spares you the pain of observing you for too long, and turns around to lead the way.

Making sure no one is in earshot, he starts to explain your coming mission while walking towards your new destination.

“The people we’re going to visit still owe me a large sum, and I’m here to collect. Your task is simple: if I give you a sign, you help me seize them,” he explains.

To your surprise, his tone is completely neutral and normal, and nothing in the way he behaves indicates that he is planning on tormenting you with the incident. You doubt he has actually forgotten about it, but it seems he has decided to leave it in the past. You suspect the incident has made him slightly uncomfortable as well, because otherwise, you’re quite positive he would’ve loved to use it as a weapon to humiliate you. You feel your shoulders relax, relieved you’ve been spared from a second session of crushing humiliation, and glad you won’t have to act like a thirsty cougar woman to win whatever vengeful power-game is going on between you two.

Brushing your thoughts about the incident aside, you give him a nod, and he continues his explanation.

He explains that a small gang owes him some cash, and that their leader, called Axon, lives in the house you’re about to visit. There will most likely be other members there, which is where you come into play. Axon apparently always organizes his deals or meetings in his small backyard, and luckily, the backyard's wall faces the street. This means that his yard is directly accessible if one manages to climb up the wall. While Levi will discuss business with the men there, you will secretly wait at the other side of the wall. When he gives you a sign — a tongue click — you will have to jump over the wall and help to seize the men. Though the gang is very small, chances are there will be more than two people there, meaning you will likely be outnumbered. Levi explains that if that’s the case, you will just have to threaten the life of the one you’ve seized, in order to force the others to stay still.

Ballsy, in your very humble opinion, but Levi doesn’t seem to be worried about it in the slightest. You suppose you just have to trust that he knows what he is doing. Since he’s a well-known thug who probably has a good number of enemies, you doubt he's the type to make bad calculations. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be alive.

“You’ll have to be discrete about this. If they hear you coming, you’re fucked,” Levi explains with the most casual tone, as if he’s discussing what he had for breakfast.

Lovely.

You turn to him. “Why does Axon organize his ‘meetings’ — or whatever they are — in his yard instead of doing them inside? Isn’t there more risk of someone like me eavesdropping from the streets?”

“That’s true, and I wouldn’t risk it either, but then again, the fuckhead’s quite thick-skulled. And most importantly, he always enjoys a little company, and he prefers to keep those women from accidentally catching any information about his sketchy activities.”

You’re already starting to form a vague image about what type of men you're going to be dealing with, and you can’t say you’re all too excited about it.

“Important thing in this mission is that you can show me you’re able to keep your head cool in situations like these, that you’re able to control and seize the men, and most importantly, that you can do this without hurting them. That last part is crucial, understand? You cannot, no matter what you do, shed some blood today. Doesn’t matter if you feel like the situation calls for it, just trust that I will handle it, and don’t do it. Use those blades of yours to threaten them, not to slice their skin. I can, you can’t.”

“Why?” you ask with a frown.

“If I hurt them, nothing happens to me because they don’t have the balls to directly confront me. If you hurt them, it’s a different story. I’m already bringing you at risk by taking you there, and these guys are quite vengeful to say the least, so don’t go crazy on them. Since you’re under my command, they won’t dare to touch you if you don’t bring too much attention to yourself. But if you do, I can’t promise they won’t hunt you down.”

He turns to look at you. “I know you’re pretty good at making yourself untraceable and all, but they will find you eventually since they know you’re connected to me. And trust me, these men are a different type of danger. So do as I say, and keep those blades clean no matter what happens, understood?”

You nod. You're a bit nervous now. If Levi, of all people, says these men are dangerous, it means they truly must be. You can only hope they indeed won’t dare to do anything to you because you’re working for Levi. It also makes you wonder how much authority and power Levi holds in this world of gangs and organized crime, a world you honestly know little of. Gary already told you that even the most dangerous gangs didn’t like to mess with him, and you’re starting to wonder who you’re truly dealing with. Why does someone like him even waste his time on you?

After a long walk of silence, albeit not an uncomfortable one, you enter what you know to be one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This says something, considering the entire Underground is one big fuckfest. The crime rates in the neighborhoods you’re passing are exceptionally high, and you know the vast majority of people who live here are criminals. The military police don’t often go down in the Underground in general, but from what you’ve heard, the last time some of them set foot in this particular area is around two entire decades ago. You also know they never made it back.

Even you, fully weaponed, knowing you’re good at combat, would never willingly wander here alone unless truly necessary. The streets are much dirtier, the alleys are darker and smaller, and just everything about this place makes you feel uneasy. Though you and Levi really aren’t on good terms at all, you have to admit you’re glad he is by your side right now. You know that with him around, not much can happen to you. When you discretely glance at him, you notice he doesn’t seem to be bothered by this place at all. He wears that same, endlessly apathetic and unreadable expression of his, and you wonder if this is something he has to do often.

Levi stops at a safe distance from the target residence when you arrive. The house is small, and just like the majority of buildings in the area, the walls are covered with huge cracks. The little residence seems to have once been white, but the walls have now turned into a deep shade of grey and brown.

Levi points at the wall that extends from the house, behind which lays the yard he mentioned before. Since the residence is at the corner of the street, it’s possible to directly access it, just as Levi had explained. The wall seems a bit high, but you immediately notice the streets are filled with even more trash than usual: old boxes, crates, and all sorts of garbage you can use to climb upon.

Before you part ways, Levi hands you a piece of rope. “To tie them up just in case that would be necessary,” he explains.

You accept it and mumble a thanks before taking off. You look back one last time and watch Levi walking to the front door, before hurrying yourself to the first crates you can find.

The street seems to be empty, so hopefully, you won’t arise any suspicions when you’ll be eavesdropping. After looking around to verify that no one is looking, you grab the first crate you deem high enough, and check if the planks aren’t rotten. You absolutely do not want this thing to collapse underneath you when you make your move. Deeming it sturdy enough, you silently drag it to the wall you will have to climb upon. When approaching it, you recognize the smell of tobacco and opium. Looking up, you notice a smokey haze coming from the yard. It seems there are already people there, so you carefully pose the crate against the wall as silently as you can.

You don’t hear Levi yet, so you quickly take a few steps back to guess whether the crate is high enough for you to climb on the wall, and when you deem it satisfactory enough, you go back and lean against it while keeping an eye on the street.

“Levi?” you suddenly hear from the yard. The man’s voice is deep and sounds surprised, but he doesn’t seem particularly delighted.

“How’s everything?” you hear a man next to him saying. Judging by the mumbling slowness of his words, he’s probably high on opium. You can also tell he’s very close to the wall.

“Cut the small talk. You know why I’m here,” Levi snaps coldly.

“Of course, of course, no worries,” the deep voice reassures.

“Come sit down my dude, have a lil draw with us,” the high one calls.

At this point, you’re quite certain there are three gang members in the yard. The high one, who is on the right, the one with the deep voice, who is on the left, and lastly the person who must’ve opened the door for Levi, though he hasn’t said anything yet.

“Do I need to repeat myself? Don’t waste my damn time with small talk and useless pleasantries,” Levi responds sharply, voice calm but with etched with dangerous impatience.

“Alright alright, got it,” the high one mutters before letting out a nervous laugh. Despite being high, he's clearly uncomfortable and on edge.

“We ran into some difficulties again, we don’t have it yet,” the deep voice explains. You can tell he’s trying to keep things calm.

“I told you to get it by now. I don’t fucking care about your difficulties, Axon.” 

“I’m sorry, Levi. I promise this is the last time. We don’t have it now, but we’ll get it next week, don’t worry about it,” the deep voice coaxes, and if you understood correctly, that one must be Axon, the gang leader.

“If you’re going to be lying out of your rotten teeth, at least do it properly. I’m not going back until I get what I came for,” Levi responds, sounding increasingly more pissed off.

The brief silence that follows feels like a second too long, and it makes you suspect that Levi is right: Axon is probably lying. You’re not sure whether he’s lying about his claim that he doesn’t have the money, or about his promise to pay Levi back, but you suppose you’ll find out soon.

“Look, I’m willing to make a deal for an increased payback because of our lateness, if that’s what you want. Just give us one more week.”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation. “I didn’t come here to negotiate. You’re fucking with the wrong person, Axon.”

He clicked his tongue.

You rapidly but soundlessly climb up the crate and take a quick, discrete glance in the yard. The backs of Axon and the stoned man are turned to you. Levi is standing across them, next to the man you suppose opened the door for him. The stoned one is the closest to you, meaning your chance of success is the highest if you try to seize him.

You don’t hesitate. You jump on the wall with a knife in hand, and leap onto him. You quickly wrap your arm around his neck during the fall, which bends him back and helps you to land more softly on the ground. A surprised grunt escapes his throat, but before he has time to do anything, you draw your knife against his neck using your free arm.

“Don’t move,” you hiss in his ear.

He immediately understands what is happening when you harshly push your blade against his throat. He has no choice but to oblige. You bump your leg against the back of his knee to indicate he has to kneel down, and he does without hesitating.

When you look up, you find that Levi has seized the one who stood next to him. The man is on his knees, with a knife held against his throat and with his hair held into a tight grip. You make brief eye-contact with Levi, and he gives you a barely noticeable nod. An indication you did well.

Axon, who isn’t seized, is looking at both of you with widened eyes, not daring to move. The one you’re holding isn’t moving either, and you suspect the main reason for their utter compliance is that they know they’re dealing with Levi. They probably can’t imagine you’re bluffing, and the one you’ve seized is most likely convinced you wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat if he would make one wrong move.

“Tsk. Tsk. Move one more muscle, Axon, and I’ll gladly slit Xav’s throat before piercing my blade into that empty skull of yours,” Levi warns with a frighteningly calm tone.

“Okay, let’s all calm down, alright? It doesn’t have to come to that.” Axon sounds nervous, and he’s visibly sweating from his bald head. He’s genuinely afraid of Levi. The sight is almost fascinating, considering the man looks much bulkier, taller and rougher than him. Yet, somehow, Axon gets completely overshadowed by Levi's presence.

“And that’s exactly why you’re going to tell me where you’re hiding all that fucking cash you owe me,” Levi threatens coldly.

“Just one more week, please, we promise we’ll get it fixed,” pleads the one you’re holding.

“Interesting. Why do I have memories of your foul mouth spitting out those exact same pathetic words two weeks ago? Thought I told you I have no patience?” Levi states calmly, but with a dangerous, eerie menace dripping from his voice.

It’s incredible how even you are slightly afraid of him right now. You can visibly see the fear in the three men, and you’re almost glad to see you’re not the only one who gets truly afraid of Levi whenever he gets in a dangerous mood.

“We ran into some issues, please understand,” the one you're holding pleads.

“And how is that my fucking problem?”

There’s a brief moment of silence.

“Who the fuck do you take me for, huh? I know you’re still hiding that cash somewhere, so I suggest you stop playing games and tell me where it is before I lose my temper,” Levi grunts.

While Levi’s attention is on the man you’re holding, you keep an eye on Axon, since he isn’t restrained. Drops of sweat are still running down his forehead, and he seems on edge like everyone else.

But there’s something else, there’s something… odd.

He’s too focused.

You try to intently observe every of his body movements, but you can’t see his left arm from this angle.

It happens fast.

So fast that you have no time to yell out a warning.

He swiftly draws a gun out of his jacket, ready to aim at Levi.

You don’t have time to think. In a reflex, you remove your arm from the man you’re seizing, and throw your knife straight at Axon’s hand, in which he holds his gun.

The next moment, the air is filled with an excruciating scream.

Your heart stops.

There’s blood, a lot of blood, and there are two fingers on the ground. You watch, eyes widened, horrified, and you instantly feel bile coming up.

You automatically look at Levi, but he is already staring at you, eyes widened by an alarmed expression.

This shakes you back to reality. You need to act now. The wounded Axon is already crawling to his gun again. You grab the man in front of you by the hair, and slam his head at full force against the wall behind you in hopes he will blackout.

You immediately run up to Axon and kick the gun away from him just in time. He tries to grab your leg, but especially after the shock he just endured, he’s way too slow. You dodge him and climb on top of him while twisting his arm around. He grunts and curses in pain as you push his arm on his back at such an angle that one wrong movement will break his bones. He tries to reach for you with his other arm, but you kick it down with your leg and keep your foot steady on his elbow. Though he is undoubtedly much stronger than you, your foot is placed right at the weak joint. You can easily snap his elbow with a little bit of force, something you’ve learned during your self-defense lessons. With your free hand, you reach for the rope Levi gave you, and before Axon can do anything, you quickly tie his wrists together.

“You filthy FUCKING WHORE—” 

Your head snaps to the man you attempted to turn unconscious just a moment ago, and you watch in horror as he rapidly storms at you while reaching for something in his pocket.

In an eyeblink, he's kicked to the ground, so fast that you barely have the time to process that Levi leaped on him. The man doesn’t have time to understand what’s going on either. He tries to stand up, but Levi grabs him by the neck and brutally slams his face into the ground, which is followed by a disturbingly loud cracking noise. A guttural growl tears out of the man’s throat, and he tries to struggle away. The attempt is futile, because Levi effortlessly forces him down and grabs his arms to tie his wrists together behind his back.

You quickly scan the situation. They’re all cursing and groaning, but all of them are tied and seized. Probably the only thing that went according to plan.

You look at Levi tying the man up, and once he’s finished, his eyes snap up to you like a whip. Unlike you, he still seems very calm and composed, but you can tell he's …. angry.

“Leave,” he orders.

“But-”

“I said, leave.”

You nod and do as he says. You stand up, pass through the backdoor of the yard, and leave the residence through the front door again.

With irregular breaths, you quickly distance yourself from the house. After briefly looking around you, you decide to wait at the location where Levi stopped earlier, back when he pointed at the house.

With a moment left alone, you anxiously try to process the chaotic events that just took place. You let out a nervous, shuddering exhale. What the hell just happened? It all took a turn for the fucking worst in only a fraction of a second, but there’s nothing else you could have done. And now, these guys will probably hunt you down. You’re beyond screwed.

Your mind wanders to the memory of Levi’s expression. You could tell he was truly angry. You’re not sure whether he was angry at you, or angry that the situation went to shit because Axon tried to kill him.

Who are you fooling, he was definitely angry at you.

…Or was he? You didn’t have a choice. It was a split-moment decision, and at that moment, the importance of following Levi’s rules really didn’t seem comparable to the importance of stopping Axon from drawing his gun out. He can’t possibly blame you for that, right?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you notice Levi stalking towards you in the corner of your eye.

“Lev—“

Before you can even finish, he grabs you by the arm and forcefully drags you into an empty dark alley. You barely process what is happening as he pushes you against the stone wall with harsh force and presses his knife against your throat.

“What the FUCK was that?” he growls.

“But—“

“Didn’t I clearly tell you to trust me, and to keep those blades clean no matter what? What part of ‘I’ll kill you if you make one misstep’ wasn’t clear?” he grunts. He seems royally pissed off.

“You can’t call it a misstep if I didn’t have a CHOICE,” you protest. “He was going to shoot you, I stopped him from doing just that. And in the end we successfully seized them anyway, and you got to interrogate them how you want.”

“Listen up, you little shit. If we all just start doing whatever the hell we want, things are bound to go south. I don’t give a fuck how much you think you’re right. I don’t care if this happened to work out. You simply do as I say, always. That’s how it works around here. Not satisfied? Guess you’re not in then. And we both know what that means,” he threatens angrily.

You scoff in bitter disbelief, getting increasingly angrier at the fact that he doesn’t even try to understand your point of view. Maybe it’s because of the aftershock, but you don’t find the energy to care anymore. You’re done with him talking down on you and intimidating you.

“Fucking hell Levi, the guy was about to KILL you,” you hiss furiously, your voice rising. “You can’t just ask me to sit back and do nothing. And generally speaking, you can’t ask me to blindly follow the plan at all times either. I know you want to be in full control, but what if one day you’re wrong? Surely, there has to be someone else who can back you up, who can come up with a second plan on sight if things get messed up. “

He looks at you incredulously, huffing in disbelief. “I’m close to slicing your throat open, and you have the absolute fucking nerve to say this? Are you actually okay up there?”

“Look, I'm sorry I disobeyed you, but at least try to understand my damn point here. Would you have preferred if I had just watched you getting gunned down? You only had a knife for fuck’s sake, and you weren’t even LOOKING at him.”

You try to shove him away, but he pushes you harder against the wall and forces his blade further into your skin, making you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. I noticed Axon was going to draw his gun out before you did, you idiot, I was already prepared for his move. I also know he was about to threaten me, not directly shoot me, because he has his own reasons to. If you want this to work, you’ll have to start trusting me, because now, due to your reckless actions, I had to clean up your damn mess myself.”

You pause, swallowing thickly.

“…What do you mean? What did you do?” you ask warily. You don’t like his exploding rage, and you don’t like where this is going at all.

His jaw clenches as he pierces you with furious eyes.

“I had to kill them. You cut the guy’s damn fucking fingers off. I saw it in their eyes, they were never going to let you get away with it. I might still need you in the gang, you impetuous fucking brat. I’m not going to let all the time I spent on you be wasted just because you felt like making them hungry for your blood.”

You stare at him in disbelief as you take in his words. You suddenly feel nauseous.

… he had to murder the three of them? One by one? Because of you? For you? You know you’re nothing more than a useful tool for him at best, but the fact this is what he had to do to protect you makes you feel terrible.

“I… I’m so sorry,” you whisper. It comes out so softly that you wonder if he even heard it. “I just thought…” But you can’t find the words, you’re too shocked and too afraid to cause even more damage.

He slightly loosens the force on his knife, but the darkness in his eyes doesn’t fade.

“You’re lucky these rotting shitheads were the lowest form of scum, and that their lives meant nothing to me. You’re also very lucky they were hiding the money in that building. I know your intentions were in the right place, but don’t ever fucking do that again,” he grunts.

He lets you go, but not before painfully pushing the blade on your throat one last time for good measure. In a reflex, you bring your fingers to your throat, and you notice there’s blood on them. He cut you.

A warning. A reminder of who you’re dealing with.

You want to say something, but when you look up again, he’s already gone.

...................

You’re splayed down on your couch, reading an old book you’ve probably already read ten times, and drinking a soothing cup of hot water.

Exactly what you need after that fuckfest from earlier.

When you came home, you found yourself in dire need for some mental distraction. Violence is nothing new to you, you have fought and wounded your fair share of thugs in the span of your life, but you’d be lying if you said today’s events weren’t particularly haunting. Cutting a pair of fingers off and having three people getting killed in your name is far beyond what you're used to. Knowing you’ve driven Levi to murder a gang he does business with is heavily gnawing at you.

 You’ve been trying to rationalize things, reminding yourself that at that point, you didn’t have a choice, that you just tried to save Levi’s life, and that your reaction was the most rational one possible. You couldn't have known. You’ve been repeating to yourself that you weren’t the one who decided to kill the three men, and that Levi thought they were such scum that their lives didn’t mean anything to him anyway. You’ve attempted to vividly imagine all the terrible things they could’ve possibly done in their lives, to try to dehumanize them.

Yet, none of it has successfully alleviated your guilt. The guilt of being responsible for three deaths. Three lives that might have brought a high amount of darkness and pain in the world, but three lives nonetheless. Three people who had friends, maybe even family.

Then, there's also the guilt of having increased Levi’s murder count.

And additionally the stress of having partially fucked up your task.

Thus, after a good amount of panicking and wallowing in deep regret, you decided to spoil yourself with a soothing drink and some good old escapism in an attempt to keep your mind off of everything.

You can’t say it’s working all too well; one of the reasons being that your book doesn’t carry the same immersive power it used to carry. Knowing the plot by heart really takes the magic away, unfortunately. You’re in dire need of some new books, but you will have to wait till you’ve paid Luna’s treatment before you can allow yourself to go on a good book hunt.

You’re just about to start a new chapter when there's a knock on the front door.

You snap up from your couch with widened eyes, entire body alarmed. The last time someone knocked on your door is approximately a decade ago, not long after your parents died. You suspect the neighbors wanted to see who the hell was making loud mechanical noises in the basement like the last owners of the house, but of course, you didn’t open. You couldn’t have anyone knowing you were actually the one living here.

You stare at the door with uncomfortable wariness. Could Levi have told people where you live? Did someone end up linking you to your parents? Could this be the military police?

Are you meeting the inevitable fate that has been in store for you all along?

“It’s me.”

Oh.

… On second thought, a visit from the MPs doesn’t sound so bad after all.

Maybe if you just stay silent, Levi won’t know you’re here. Not only did you make him furious a couple of hours ago, but the man threatened to slit your damn throat. Seeing him now is the last thing you’re in the mood for. Can a girl ever get a damn break?

“I know you’re in there. If you don’t let me in during the next couple of seconds, I’ll bust the fucking door open myself.”

Ugh.

You can’t help the exhausted groan when you get off your couch and lumber towards the door. Here we fucking go again.

You reluctantly open the door, and surely, there he stands.

“I’m here to check out that little weapon collection of yours.”

“Couldn’t you have given me a little warning?” you snarl as you realize your robe is open, showing your slip dress underneath. A very old, but pretty thing you took from your mother’s closet many years ago, in which you sleep the vast majority of the time. Slightly embarrassed, you tightly wrap your robe around you.

If he notices, he gives no indication. “Why would I give a rat like you the chance to hide whatever you want?”

You frown at his insult and invasion of privacy, but you have no choice but to let him in. You suppose you should already be thankful he bothered to put the hood of his cloak on, making him less recognizable. You don’t think everyone in the city recognizes him, but he’s quite a reputable criminal nonetheless, with many whispers and rumors surrounding his name. Though nobody knows you live in this house, you still prefer not having people linking your home to an infamous gang leader like him.

As Levi walks in and you close the door behind him, the thought of what happened today intrudes your mind again, and you can’t stop the feeling of guilt from flooding your body.

“About earlier, I…“

“Forget about it already. Just don’t do shit like that again,” he interrupts. He turns around to look at you. “I know you meant well, and I’m not denying your reaction was fast and well-calculated, but if I tell you beforehand with absolute certainty that I can handle something and that you need to trust me, I want you to do so. Understood?"

You cross your arms. Though you’re glad to hear he isn’t blaming you for what happened, there’s something about his words that rubs you the wrong way.

“You’re asking me to blindly trust you, but don’t you think that’s a bit rich coming from someone who is threatening my life?”

“And that threat will turn into reality if you keep running your mouth like that,” he warns with narrowed eyes.

You give him an eye roll. “Can’t you see the contradiction here? How am I supposed to put my full trust into you if I don't even have the assurance you won't try to kill me at any moment you want?”

Levi sighs impatiently. “Listen, runt. I’m not asking you to trust me as a person, that would be hypocritical since I don’t trust you at all either. What I am saying is that if you want me to accept you in the gang, you will have to learn to follow my every command during the missions. If you can’t do that, we have a problem. It was one of the main points of your last task, and you’re kind of ruining it for yourself right now, so I suggest you shut your mouth.”

“Fine,” you snap, trying your hardest to suppress the urge to launch yourself at him and strangle him on the spot.

He gives a dissatisfied tongue click at your visible irritation, and turns around to inspect your place. Slowly wandering around, he takes in every detail of his surroundings. He stops at your bookcase, and traces his fingers along your books.

“You read?” he asks.

For a moment, you’re not sure whether he is asking if you like reading, or if you’re capable of reading. A normal thing to wonder, considering a significant portion of people in the Underground are analphabetic. There are barely any schools here, and the ones that do exist aren’t subsidized by the Royal Government. Only the richest citizens can afford them, so it’s quite typical for children to learn how to read from their parents or guardians, which is what you did. However, a significant number of orphans don’t have that luxury, leaving them illiterate.  

You suppose that in this case though, Levi is asking whether you’re a bookworm or not, since he knows you aren’t illiterate because of the notes you wrote after spying on Karl. For a brief moment, you wonder whether he is analphabetic, but he seems to be reading the titles of your books, so you suppose not.

“I do read sometimes,” you respond. “It’s a good distraction, though I will have to buy some new books soon. Those are all old ones my parents left behind.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he traces his index finger over your bookshelf, collecting some dust in the process.

“Learn how to clean your damn place.”

Learn how to shut the fuck up.

But as getting murdered inside your own house would be quite the inconvenience, you decide not to say that out loud.

He continues his inspection, and as he does, you suddenly notice in horror that the bra you wore yesterday is still sprayed on the backrest of your couch. With all the luck you have, it’s one of your most sensual ones, one you made yourself. The burning red, lacy, see-through, and undeniably seductive fabric you collected from your grandmother’s treasures stares back at you, ready to cause you more discomfort and embarrassment than you’re prepared for.

Your eyes dart to Levi, who is starting to come dangerously close to your couch as he observes your living room. Your mind immediately rummages for an excuse to get him in your basement as fast as possible before he notices. You’re just about to open your mouth, but it's too late. As if he's reading your thoughts, his eyes dart towards the taunting red fabric. You can see the moment of realization in his eyes, which is followed by a quick aversion of his gaze. You feel your neck warming up and decide you need to put a stop to this, now. You have no idea what else you have lying around, and you’re not going to wait to find out. Wouldn’t be surprised if some lacy underwear was scattered somewhere else. It’s not like anyone but you ever wanders in this house anyway.

Honestly, it’s his fault for breaching your damn privacy like this.

You quickly lead him to the basement, urging him forward, and he doesn’t resist. His expression doesn’t reveal anything, but his compliance shows the little incident might have made him slightly uncomfortable as well.

At least he won’t be scolding your cleaning habits anymore.

Once downstairs, you turn the lights on, revealing your large basement. Levi lets out an impressed whistle while looking around. His reaction doesn’t come as a surprise, your basement really is big. There’s a reason why you have always done all your training here, whether it’d be fighting, knife throwing or improving your crossbow aim. Your parents were far from the poorest in the Underground, and it shows.

Levi stops when he notices the wall behind the both of you. His eyes widen ever so slightly.

“You made all of these?” he asks, sounding stunned.

You turn around and take in the sight that has him looking astonished. The wall is covered with a huge collection of weapons: throwable knives, throwable circular blades, butterfly knives, crossbows, you name it. The remaining weapons, the ones that are less impressive or can’t be hung on the wall, are displayed on a wooden counter beneath your pinned collection.

“Not all of them, some were fabricated by my father. You’ve probably already noticed the tools I use to make them.” You point at the large workbench behind him, situated at the right side of the room. Multiple grinders, handsaws, lost blades, hammers, you name it. He walks towards it and studies the mess on your bench, while letting his fingers glide over the sharp blade of the angle grinder. He then briefly looks at the huge stacks of steel lying in the right corner of the room.

“So you weren’t lying after all,” he murmurs, seemingly more to himself than to you.

“You didn’t believe me, even when we were going down here?” you ask with a frown.

He shrugs. “I was convinced you were going to try something dirty. Lead me into a trap, maybe push me down the stairs and stab me in the back. I was almost looking forward to beating your ass, what a shame.”

You snort and roll your eyes. “Gee, thanks for the trust.”

He glances back at you from behind his shoulder, but he doesn’t say anything. You wonder what he is thinking, but as always, he’s impossible to read. After a few moments of this strange eye contact, his attention goes back to all the weapons displayed on the wall. He turns around and slowly walks towards it, completely entranced by the sight. You can’t blame him: this wall contains your best weapons. Your prettiest works of art, along with the most artistic pieces your father has ever made.

You watch him as he observes every single one of them. He looks fascinated, and you'd be lying if you'd say it isn’t stroking your ego. He takes one of the knives, arguably the prettiest one, and studies it. The patterns on the blade and on the handle are so hypnotizing that you can’t help but stare along as if you’re seeing it for the first time. Looking just as entranced as you are, he glides his fingers over the blue stones engraved in the handle, before gently tracing the beautiful patterns carved around them.

“This must be worth a fortune. Did you make it?” he mutters in somber admiration.

“No, my father did. He was too attached to this one to sell it, said it would be a family heritage. He really had a hand for knife art, his work was incredible.”

As he studies it further, you bring your attention back to your collection. You pick out your favorite work, and study it a little before handing it to him.

“I think this is my favorite one I’ve made. I fabricated it about six months ago. I’m definitely not nearly as good as my father was, but I have inherited his love for knife art. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll reach his skill level if I’m lucky,“ you chuckle.

He looks at you for a moment and takes your knife. He carefully studies it, turning and twisting it around in his hands, which you notice look surprisingly delicate compared to his lean arms. He slides his index across the carved wooden patterns, slowly following the curve of the handle. For some reason, you can’t keep your eyes off of his gentle touch. It's almost hypnotizing.  

“Impressive,” he mumbles absent-mindedly. “It’s beautiful.”

Though he does look entranced, it takes you a moment to believe what you’re hearing. He called your work beautiful? You genuinely never thought he'd ever give you a compliment, and it has a bigger effect on you than you'd like to admit.

“I assume you don’t use these to fight?” he asks while tracing his index finger across the blade.

You shake your head. “Too pretty to get dirty.”

You point at the left side of your collection. “I use these though, these are almost all of my throwable knives.”

He gently puts the two pieces back in their place and brings his attention to your throwables. He picks one out and twirls it around in his hand, making it dance over his fingers. The sight is as fascinating as it is intimidating.

Silver eyes flicker up to yours with an arched brow. “Can I?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to understand what he means, and you nod.

He faces the wall on which you always train your aim on, the one opposite to your collection. There are multiple targets drawn on there, covered with holes due to your ruthless years of training. To your surprise, he only takes about three steps closer. Is he going to throw from this far away?

He does it so fast you can barely follow his movements. The loud crashing noise that follows angrily echoes in the room.

You squint your eyes.

This can’t be real.

You walk closer to the wall, because surely you're seeing this wrong.

... Nope, it’s still there.

In disbelief, you watch how the knife is stuck right into one of the eyes of the target. And the eyes are just mere dots you drew there for fun. From the distance he is at, they’re so small you almost have to squint to properly see them. And that, for your eyes. You have better eyesight than most, meaning that the average Joe should barely be able to see them from his distance.

No, it has to be a coincidence. There’s no way. Your aim is really good, yet you’ve never been able to hit one of the eyes from his distance. And this considering your years of training with your own knives. It’s already absurd he hit the target on his first try, without even getting a feel of your knife. Normally, one needs to at least adjust to it, get used to the weight, train their brain to understand the dynamics of the weapon. Even if he had meticulously trained with your knife after he stole it from you on your first acquaintance, this one is designed differently. He’d have to warm up as well.

It was pure luck he hit the target at all.

Just as you finish concluding it was a coincidence, the raven-haired behemoth behind you decides to take a second knife from your wall and throw again.

A loud crashing sound echoes into the room.

Blinking in disbelief, you can do nothing but stare incredulously at the knife trembling in the second eye. 

There is no.

Fucking.

Way?

You glance back at Levi with utter shock. It draws upon you that you have no idea what this man is truly capable of. How are you even still alive after challenging him the way you did?

You remember Gary’s words, “The man is a machine.” 

You thought he was exaggerating, but apparently, he wasn’t.

Suddenly, a realization hits you. You remember back when Levi almost killed you in the tunnels by throwing your knife right at your head. You thought you had just escaped death, but in reality, he never meant to kill you in the first place. He never missed your head at all, he just purposely hit your cloak for it to get you stuck. You’re not sure whether this is a relief or whether this just makes him a hundred times more terrifying. 

“Do you have experience with these types of throwables?” you ask carefully.

He shrugs. “Not particularly. I’ve used throwables a few times before, but not the same type as these. Except for the ones I took from you.”

For a moment you think he is joking, but nothing in his expression is indicating he is. He ignores your expression of pure and utter disbelief, and casually continues as if he didn’t just show you the most inhumane performance you’ve ever seen.

“Your knives are well made. I’m beginning to think you might be useful to us after all,” he points out with a slightly mocking undertone.

Realizing he has no intentions of commenting any further on his absurd aim, you pull yourself back together and clear your throat. You recollect the knives, which, to your embarrassment, takes all the strength and effort you have. The blades are pierced so deeply inside the wall that you barely manage to pull them out.

Walking back to him, you try to hide your astonishment and look him in the eyes. “Accept me in your gang and I’ll make more of these if you need them.”

He looks at you in silence for a moment. You know he must be thinking something, but he's like an impenetrable wall, impossible to read, his eyes fixed on you but completely indecipherable.

After a few moments, he finally speaks up.

“We’ll see how you do on your next tasks.” His voice is cold. No ounce of an emotion, no hint of warmth.

… Maybe you were warming up to him a little too fast.

He spares you one last glance before turning around. “I have to go. I expect you at the headquarters in two days. You'll perform your next mission then.”

You follow behind and lead him to the door. This time, he doesn’t look in the direction of your couch, and you feel slightly embarrassed when you glance at your alluring bra again.

When he’s finally out, you close the door behind him, and you lean your back on it.

You let out a deep sigh.

Who the fuck are you actually dealing with?

Chapter Text

The buzz of life around you feels like a vague background haze as you lock your front door and make your way to the headquarters again. The children running around, the angry cursing and loud punching as you walk past city fights, the shattering of glass as a few drunkards carelessly throw their bottles on the ground, the merchants trying to lure you in: you barely process any of it, as you’re too deeply submerged in the memories of your last mission. The images are playing over and over again in your mind, just as they continuously have the past two days. Axon’s screams, the blood, Levi’s murderous eyes, the guilt.

But also, the fact Levi saved your life.

Ever since that mission, you’ve had an even harder time placing him. One moment, he slams you against the wall and cuts your throat, the next, he delicately holds your knives and traces them with utmost gentleness, calling them beautiful. This strong contrast reminds you of back when he interrogated you. He choked you, almost gave you a concussion, but also gently wiped your tears away.

The disparity of his actions is slightly unnerving, but also… intriguing. It shows he might not exactly be like the animalistic rough brutes you’ve had the displeasure of encountering during your life. But it’s also obvious he isn’t a tender person either.

He is dangerous, and the fact Axon and his men were so terribly afraid of him only confirms that. Yet, you also feel like there might be more to him than that, but you don’t know to which extent. He’s a minacious criminal, he has ruthlessly murdered people, but of course, no one is one-dimensional. Especially not someone like him.

You know it’s important to assess your threats, and Levi is by far your biggest one. The primary danger constantly looming over your life. Knowing this, you feel like it’s important to try to understand him and asses him, but unfortunately, this is proving to be difficult. You’ve hardly ever been able to predict his actions, and you know that’s because he isn’t a simple, dull man. Dull people don’t get to his position anyway.

And since you’ve always strategically avoided sharp and dangerous minds like him, everything about your situation is challenging.

You don’t know what to expect from him, you don’t know what he thinks of you or how his mind works, but you hope time will tell.

… If you live to see the days, at least.

So far, Levi’s tests have been a struggle. You haven’t been failing entirely, but you can’t say it’s been a big success either. You can only hope you will be able to prove yourself today.

Slightly nervous at this grim reminder, you try to momentarily push your thoughts aside and focus on your surroundings again. You know better than to let your guard down when you leave the busy roads and enter the less crowded neighborhoods.

As you march forward and wander through the calm streets and tight alleyways, nothing quite catches your attention. That is, until you’re somewhat closer to the hideout.

You can’t immediately pinpoint what makes you feel uneasy, but something is… off.

Every now and then, you hear small rustles, or very faint steps coming from somewhere in your vicinity. The more often you hear it, the less you believe it to be the normal buzz of the city. The noises are… suspiciously repetitive, and suspiciously discrete.

Feeling increasingly more alarmed, you continue slowly walking forward, while trying to keep a sharp eye on your surroundings. When you suddenly hear the sound of a few careful and well-calculated steps close-by, you quickly snap your head back. You stare down the alley behind you, ears sharp and focused, but you’re met with nothing but emptiness and quietness.

You don’t like this at all.

Your heartrate picks up. You’re starting to feel incredibly uneasy with every step you take in the empty, quiet neighborhood. Those soft steps, the soft shuffles around you... this can’t be a coincidence. Especially since you’ve been hearing faint noises coming from somewhere ahead of you as well.

Too alarmed now, you stop. You’re in a little open space, surrounded by brick houses. If someone is following you, they can either appear from the small pathway behind you, from the short tunnel to your right, or from behind the wall situated a couple of steps in front of you. You sharply observe the three spots, darting your eyes from one place to the other. You try to keep a cool head, but the dreadful feeling that something is terribly wrong is getting louder by the second.

Your heart jolts when a very faint sound comes from the wall facing you.

There’s someone behind that wall. You feel it, you know it. And whoever it is, is good at making themselves pretty noiseless.

You narrow your eyes and keep your attention steady on the wall while reaching for your knife beneath your cape.

Before you have the chance to demand the person to show themselves, they decide to do so on their own. A figure steps forward, eyes sharply fixed on you.

You recognize him immediately. His blond locks, the darkness in his eyes.

He's the angry gang member who was chasing you during the second time you sabotaged a heist. He is the one you were able to shake off by climbing on a container before pushing it down.

He watches you in silence, and the dark glint in his eyes confirms what you already know: you’re in trouble. Most likely in deep trouble.

You hear someone behind you, and you quickly snap your head back. After a few moments, a figure appears out of the shadows. Brown hair, slim face, and with a similar cold glint in his eyes. Another gang member.

He regards you from top to toe, wearing a bitter expression.

“Going to our hideout, are you?” he asks dryly. He starts to slowly approach you. You notice the blond starts to do the same.

You look back and forth at them. The blond is coming from one side, the brunet from the opposite side.

“What do you want?” you demand warily, while sharply bouncing your eyes from one to the other. You’re fully aware that them coming from opposite angles is strategically planned, allowing you to only focus on one at the time. Unfortunately, it’s working. You feel extremely uneasy.

“What we want, is to get rid of you, as you can probably already tell,” the blond responds.

“Did Levi send you?” you ask, suddenly hit by a peak of anxiety. Is this because you partially fucked up your last task? Did he end up changing his mind about you?

“No. We’ve decided to put an end to this shit on our own, since he can’t be reasoned with.”

“You’re defying his orders? Why?” you ask carefully with a frown, while stepping backwards to get a better angle at both of them as they keep approaching you from both sides.

“Why?” the blond one scoffs incredulously. “Because you’re a damn hindrance, that is. Constantly robbing us, getting Boris kicked out, ripping our fucking group apart. And we’re supposed to just sit back and accept you in?”

Boris. He was the loudmouth you always stalked. You completely forgot about him, and you haven’t even thought about what the consequences could’ve been for him after you had snitched him out to Levi.

And apparently, you’re also tearing the group apart, which you weren’t aware of at all.

You swallow thickly.

“I didn’t mean for all of that to happen and I’m sorry, but I’m not your enemy anymore," you try to coax calmly, "I have no intentions of ever robbing you again.” Your pulse is rapidly increasing, but you force yourself to hold a calm demeanor. Having to remain composed in dangerous situations like this one is nothing new to you.

The brunet huffs bitterly. “We have no reasons to believe you, and even if you’re telling the truth, we couldn’t care any less. You’ve done enough damage as it is. Boris getting kicked out because of your actions is already bad enough, but you replacing him? Absolutely the fuck not,” he spits, looking at you with disgust.

They keep slowly approaching you, and while stepping back, you realize that you’re getting cornered. The wall behind you is getting increasingly closer, and with every second that passes, the danger of your situation gets more and more apparent.

You look back and forth at their dark eyes, and you realize the chances you’ll be able to talk your way out of this are practically zero.

When they start to get too close, you draw your knife out. They immediately do the same.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you,” you try to reason, voice calm and steady, trying your utmost best to hide that you’re getting afraid.

The blond lets out a hollow, dark chuckle. “Oh, we’d love to see you try.”

Underneath your cape, you keep your free hand on one of your throwable knives. Though your aim is significantly worse on your non-dominant hand, you’ve trained it well enough to be viable. If you’re fast, you might be able to get out of here, even though you’re certain these men are very skilled.

But you also know that if word has it you wounded or killed two gang members, you’re dead. You’re fucked no matter what you do, and this mere fact makes your heart beat uncontrollably.

The brunet dangerously flips his knife in his hand and gives you a sinister while approaching you. “Show us what you got, princess.”

You look back at them with a pounding heart, trying to focus on every single one of their movements. You’re sweating, you’re afraid, but your mind is sharp and ready. Hand steady on your throwable knife, you prepare yourself to launch an attack the moment they make a move.

“That’s enough.”

The three of you snap your heads towards the voice at the same time, all of you startled.

The moment you recognize the familiar face, the worst of your dread dissipates. Levi watches from a distance, eyes glacial on the two men. Both their smirks disappear instantly.

“What the fuck did I tell you two?” Levi demands, voice laced with venom. His gaze is steadily fixed on your attackers, but the dangerous hue in them even affects you.

You look back and forth at the two men, whose expressions are becoming increasingly more alarmed. Their eyes are widened. They look... terrified.

The blond one swallows, and when he decides to speak, the anxiety is seeping out of every single one of his words. “L..Levi, look, we just can’t let her—“

He stops mid-sentence when Levi’s glare somehow becomes even more terrifying. His eyes are stormy and poisonous. It almost looks like if one of them dares to stutter out one more wrong word, it will be their end.

The two are frozen in place, and you have a hard time processing how quickly they went from being cocky and menacing, to looking like a pair of shivering lambs. None of them dare to say anything, or dare to move. They’re visibly afraid of Levi’s wrath, and the silence around you becomes increasingly more unsettling by the second.

“Get the fuck out,” Levi spits.

The two men quickly nod and hurry themselves out of his sight.

Levi follows them with his eyes, and the moment they disappear, his razor-sharp stare falls on you. Your breath hatches at the sudden eye-contact and the unnerving coldness of his glare, but you don’t move.

After a few seconds, he glances down at your knife, which you’re still holding tightly. At this, you quickly draw it back into your thigh strap.

When you look up again, his expression is still as cold as ever, eyes sharply fixed on you. Without saying a word, he jerks his chin for you to follow, then turns around.

You hurry to him and silently walk behind, still uneasy and nervous. You want to say something, but you’re almost too afraid to do so. He’s clearly not in a talkative mood, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little afraid of him right now. Nevertheless, you somehow manage to murmur a “Thanks for that”, but he doesn’t say anything in return.

As you keep walking, you can’t stop thinking about the angry words and expressions that were thrown at you earlier. What is Levi even going to do to those two? Is he just going to leave it at this, or is he going to kick them out like he did with Boris? Or maybe something worse? The mere idea makes you feel guilty and uneasy. As much as you think these guys are scum, you can’t shake the thought that you might be responsible for the loss of three members now. If the others hear about this, they will hate your guts even more. You can’t really fathom Levi kicking out old members for you, but at the same time, it isn’t that implausible. He has killed three men to prevent you from getting murdered, after all. You know he simply did that to protect the potential you might provide to the gang, but still. That doesn’t change the facts.

Maybe those two were right. You’re just a hindrance, ruining the dynamic of the group.

As you both walk in silence, the thoughts keep getting louder and louder. It’s becoming unbearable.

You hesitate for a bit, but you really don’t want to be stuck with this uncomfortable uncertainty for any longer. After taking a deep breath, you scrape up enough courage to voice the burning question that is lingering on your tongue.

“They aren’t getting kicked out… right? Or are they?” you mutter, unable to stop the guilt from infesting every one of your words.

He doesn’t respond.

“I mean, if they do because of me, I...” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say; all you know is that you really don’t want to be the reason the group is falling apart and losing its members. “…And they said that loud Boris guy go—”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he interrupts sharply. “This isn’t about you. If they don’t listen or if they create havoc, they’re out. It’s that simple.” His voice is steady and cold. He doesn’t even spare you as much as a glance.

Right. Rude as fucking ever, but you’ll take it.

His words don’t erase the guilt you’re feeling, but at least he's kicking them out for his own personal reasons. You suppose it would be an insult to his authority if he would just let them rebel as they please, and it would also hinder his plans.

Still.

Though his choice is nothing personal, you're definitely the reason all of this is happening in the first place, and the idea that the other gang-members might think along those lines as well makes you extremely uncomfortable.

You glance at Levi. Silent and unreadable, devoid of any kind of warmth, as per usual.

You let out an inaudible sigh. Somewhere deep down, you have to admit you may be a little bit disappointed that he just confirmed your initial thoughts: this wasn’t a personal favor, you’re only a mere tool he's keeping alive for use, and the only reason he threatened the men who wanted to harm you is because he needs to keep his group under control. You truly don’t understand why you’re even disappointed. Of course he wouldn’t give a shit about you getting hurt. He threatened to kill you, why the hell would he care at all? You're a just potentially useful object to him. Nothing less, nothing more.

And when an object turns out to be useless, it gets thrown away.

Will he really just kill you if he deems your performed tasks unsatisfactory, and thus decides you're an unnecessary threat for his group?

Somewhere, you have a hard time believing he would go through with it. Maybe your brain is just purposely being delusional to cope with the danger you’re in, but you honestly feel like the burning hate has simmered down a bit. On both sides, really. During the first mission, the mutual hate was definitely boiling, but during the last mission, you felt like something had shifted ever so slightly. Maybe that could be enough to spare you some mercy?

… He did threaten to slit your throat though.

… Also, when he told you your disobedience might not get you in the gang, he added: “And we both know what that means.”

Sounds like a pretty clear threat.

Well, never mind.

Still... you know something did change. During the first mission, it felt like aside from possibly wanting to test you, he mainly just wanted to torment you. He also clearly didn’t mind the chances of four massive dogs shredding you to pieces. Last mission, however, it seemed like he genuinely wanted to give you a decent chance at proving yourself. He’s clearly starting to value your life now. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have murdered three men to prevent them from harming you.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when or how this shift happened. When you arrived at the hideout for the last mission, he was pretty neutral to you, for the first time ever. Maybe he just didn’t want to fuck up the mission for his own purposes, but you suspect there might be more to it. Maybe he changed his mind about you after looking over your spy-work. After all, you probably exceeded his expectations, and it was proof of your usefulness. Of course, it could also be that he felt some sort of remorse after threatening you. Though, that would mean he has a soft heart somewhere, which you find hard to believe. Another possibility is that his unquenchable desire to threaten and intimidate you simply evaporated because it resulted in some unexpected sexual tension last time. Maybe your moan saved you after all, as ironic as that is.

Honestly, the possibilities are endless, and he's too hard to read to find out.

The only thing you do know is that his shift in behavior somehow felt even more apparent after you fucked up your task. He was definitely not as cold and as harsh as usual when he came by your place. Maybe it's because your first instinct during that mission was to save his life, despite it endangering yours? You suppose doing so gave him a sign your intentions are genuine, that you aren’t some sort of evil spy sent to rob his gang and destroy it, or whatever the hell he was thinking when he first interrogated you.

Not that he seemed to be particularly happy about your attempt at saving his life, but you digress. 

The point is, you’re pretty certain he genuinely wants to give you chance now, especially since he now knows you aren’t lying about fabricating your own weapons. Doesn’t matter whether he sees you as a mere tool or a human being, it’s already a step forward. A step closer to him not getting rid of you on sight if you do anything that doesn’t quite please him. Also, Furlan doesn’t seem to have a problem with you existing, and you feel like he wouldn’t just let you get murdered without a truly valid reason.

…Right?

Or do you just have too much faith in people?

Either way, you shouldn’t get ahead of yourself either. These are optimistic assumptions you’re making. You don’t doubt Levi would still destroy you if you would do anything seriously wrong, and it’s best to assume he would try to kill you if he deems you useless for the gang too. Because the fact is, he has no guarantee you won’t stand in his way again if he lets you go, nor does he have any guarantee you're telling the truth and that you're working alone. And quite frankly, he doesn’t strike you as the type who would let any feeling of mercy hinder the safety or the success of his gang.

For now, it’s best for your own survival to shove that bit of hope aside, and to simply assume that any mistake will be your end.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

When you and Levi finally enter the hideout after a walk of silence and a thorough thinking session, Furlan immediately notices something is off. His eyes dart from Levi, to you, to Levi again.

“What happened?” 

“Vic and Sebastian,” Levi informs him with a bored look.

“Oh,” Furlan mouths. He seems to immediately understand what happened. His eyes travel to you. “You okay?”

You nod, but you’re sure your uneasiness is visible on your features.

“If it’s any consolation, these two were the only ones who were being difficult. The rest of them are a lot more neutral about you joining the gang. Sure, some complained at first, but they didn’t create a loud havoc like Vic and Seb,” Furlan explains as he walks back to make himself comfortable on the couch.

You bite your cheek, slightly relieved by his words, but still not entirely convinced. “Is that why they mentioned I’m ripping the group apart?” you ask carefully.

Levi behind you scoffs dryly, and Furlan rolls his eyes.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised by their dramatic claim,” Furlan groans, letting out a displeased sigh. “What they see as a group division, is in reality just the others not being as passionately against you, and not going along with their protesting whines. There were some discussions at first, but it has died down and they’ve been the ones trying to refuel it.”

You take a deep breath. ‘Not being as passionately against you.’ You’re not sure how positive that’s supposed to be, but you’re already glad to hear you won’t have to deal with an entire group of Vic’s and Seb’s.

Still, the whole thing is quite worrying.

“So just to be clear, they don’t all want to skin me alive?” you ask. If the answer is yes, you might have to flee before it’s too late.

“No,” Furlan confirms with a chuckle. “Their opinions about you vary, but don’t worry, it’s really not half as bad as you think. I guess you’ll just have to convince some of them in time. You might have to show them that you can be a reliable help, but also that you’re not someone to be fucked with.”

Oh lord. You feel the nerves surging up again. You aren’t particularly excited about having to prove yourself once more.

But... Furlan's words also give you a bit of hope. That attack from earlier really made you feel like the entire gang hated you, and like there was no hope for you to ever belong there. But now, when listening to Furlan’s calm voice and his comforting words, you feel like you might be okay. You will just have to bite your self-doubt away, and show them your place.

You look into Furlan’s blue eyes, suddenly feeling very grateful. Despite the fact you’ve been stealing from him, and despite the fact he has no reason to trust you, he's still helping you and motivating you.

A small, warm smile forms on your lips.

He smiles back a little and shrugs. “Besides, some don’t seem to mind at all. One of the boys is even real excited to have you in the group,” he adds with a chuckle.

You suddenly notice Levi’s slightly tensing up in the corner of your vision. You barely catch it, and when you turn to look at him, his expression seems to be as unreadable and stoic as usual.

Realizing it’s probably nothing, you shrug it off and bring your attention back to Furlan.

“That’s a relief, honestly,” you respond with a soft smile.

“Alright, enough sweet talk,” Levi interrupts as he walks to the couches, “I don’t have all day. Let’s get to business.”

You suppress the slight irritation at his blunt attitude, and follow him to the couch. As you do, you notice Furlan’s smile faltering.

Once the three of you are seated, Levi speaks up.

“This time, we need you to extract some information out of someone.”

You pause.

“…You don’t mean spy-work?”

“No.” His tone is sharp and steady, and his glare has gained an unsettling edge.

There’s a moment of silence.

… You have a feeling you’re really not going to like this.

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

You stare at the little house in front of you. The brown brick walls, the little wooden front door, the windows, and the light casting through them from inside.

You wonder what he's doing, the man you will have to torture. Is he resting? Eating? Writing a letter to a loved one?

The mere thought makes your heart shrivel.

A normal, regular man. A man who got into the wrong situation at the wrong time, and who now holds dangerous and valuable information that Levi’s gang, and many others, need. An innocent man who got himself into a huge mess he never wanted to be a part of, because he accidentally walked in on his thug of a cousin and overheard the wrong information. A human being who got his life ruined that day, and who, due to that unfortunate event, got dragged into a mess that spiraled out of control. A mess filled with blackmailing, threats, gangs, and crimes.

And now, you’re here to add to his misery.

You don’t want to do this.

At all.

You asked Levi if he has ever done any abhorrent things, if he has hurt people, abused someone, turned into a brute after getting forcefully pulled into the world of organized crime.

But Levi gave you nothing. “Not that I know of,” is the only thing he replied.

You pretty much pleaded, you almost begged him on your knees to give you something. Because there must at least be one bad thing he has done, right? Even if it’s small.

But all your pleads were answered with a stone cold stare.

Nothing.

He’s innocent. Just in an incredibly unlucky situation. Hit by the cruel force of misfortune. And to make matters worse, he's wounded. One of the brutes he’s had to deal with due to his terrible situation broke his leg two weeks ago.

You observe the man’s house, in a moment of calmness before the storm.

Honestly, you’re not even sure you can do it.

Until now, you’ve always wounded with the objective of protecting yourself. Well— that's a lie, actually. On numerous occasions, you’ve purposely gone overboard when dealing with bad people. You’re not some sort of harmless, soft child. You’ve inflicted your fair share of pain onto others. You’ve robbed a countless number of people, you’ve wounded, you’ve sliced skin with your knife, but you’ve always done so for a reason. You almost exclusively target people who deserve it, and you’ve been doing so ever since the day you became skilled enough for it. The only people you purposely wound for other reasons than self-defense are serial killers, pedophiles, rapists, abusers, or all types of brutes who deserve every bit of suffering coming their way.

Is it moral to mercilessly hurt people who have done monstruous things? Is it moral to dehumanize people who act inhumane? Who knows. Maybe not, but such a high sense of morality isn’t a road you want to ride on, or else you'll die real quick.

You’re not an angel. You’re not going to pretend like you have some flawless morals, whatever that may be. You do highly questionable things, just like the majority of people, but you still have principles. And torturing an innocent man with a broken leg who seemingly just turned out to be in an unfortunate situation, does not abide to these principles at all.

You asked Levi if simple threats would work, but once again, his answer was the last thing you wanted to hear.

“You could try, but it might not work. If you decide to do so, you’ll have to find a way to show him you’re truly capable of performing your threat. He’s keeping his secret because he’s being threatened of having his family murdered. So, unless you can somehow show him you could do more damage than the people he’s in trouble with, you’ll have to stick to… other methods.”

Levi might as well have put an end to you then and there, because this is probably your biggest weakness. You hate hurting people who have done nothing wrong. Hell, you’re still haunted by the days you stole from poor or old, weak citizens. You cried the first time you stole some bread from an old woman who looked equally as starved as you, and you cried over that memory many years after.

How are you still alive while being such a weak wretch? Who knows, but it might not last long anymore, because Levi is hitting you right in your weakest spot.

Seems like the cruel rules of survival of the fittest, or rather, survival of the most heartless, have finally come for you.

Levi is truly testing everything. He evaluated your self-made weapons, he challenged your desperation for money, and he tested your skills and behaviors. He tested your stealth, your ability to spy, your compliance to his orders, your ability to seize people, and your reactions during dangerous missions.

But this, you didn’t expect. You should have, but you didn’t.

This might finally truly be the end of you. If the man starts to plead and beg for mercy, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it. You need a good reason, you need something strong to allow your mind to dehumanize your victim, but of course, Levi isn’t providing you with any of it. And quite frankly, you don’t think it’s a coincidence.

You remember Levi’s words, telling you to be compliant, telling you to listen to his orders and to obey no matter. This seems to be the ultimate test to check whether you’re actually capable of it. A test to see whether you’re willing to put your humanity aside for the gang. Just as you had initially feared, you’re required to be brutal and heartless if you want to be part of such a feared group of criminals. You have to prove you have no morals when it comes to obeying Levi’s commands. You have to be a machine.

Because if you want to survive in the world of organized crime, you have to be a cold monster like him and his men.

The sadistic, cruel fuck. You know he's sharp and particularly good at reading people, which means he’s probably fully aware you have a high chance of failing. He knows you’ve never killed someone, so you’re sure he has already deducted you aren’t some heartless machine. And now is his time to exploit that.

Earlier today, you felt like he genuinely wanted you in the gang. But now, that thought is evaporating.

Has his thirst for revenge come back? Does he want to push you to your doom again?

Or is this nothing personal? Does he just need you to be inhumane, like he needs all of his members to be?

You don’t know. All you know is that of all tests, this is the ultimate one. Physically it's the easiest one, being face to face with a wounded man who probably doesn’t have much fighting experience. Mentally, it’s by far the hardest.

You know a significant number of people in this city could easily do it. You’ve seen enough cruelties to back this statement up. But you? The longer you stare at the house in front of you, the slimmer your chances seem to be.

You take a deep breath. It will be incredibly hard, but you have to push through. Maybe this is exactly what you need. The ultimate experience that will scar you to the point you will finally toughen up mentally, to the point where guilt won’t be an emotion you will constantly have to deal with anymore. Maybe this is what you need?

Either way, you can’t permit your feelings of empathy and compassion to control you right now. You need to survive. Not only for yourself, but also for Luna, Gary, and Finn. You can’t let your emotions get the best of you.

You can do this. You have to.

You close your eyes for a moment to clear your mind. For the coming time, you can’t be you anymore. You have to turn yourself into a heartless machine. You have to push your emotions aside, you have to push yourself aside. All your morals, everything that represents you, it all needs to go.

With dark eyes and an expression of stone, you approach the residence. With every step you take, the storm within you becomes harder to repress.

When you’re at the front door, you take a deep, shuddering breath.

Then another one.

You lift your hand, and before you have the chance to think everything through again and back out, you knock on the door.

You wait, your entire body tense, every single part of you carrying the weight of dread and foreboding.

The moment the door opens, you feel like you’ve been dunked into ice-cold water.

Please no.

All you can do is stare at the pair of big, green, curious eyes that are looking up at you. The little girl standing in front of you must be around four or five years old.

Fuck.

You knew the man’s family was being threatened, but you assumed Levi was talking about his parents, his siblings, his aunt or uncle, just anyone but a young daughter. You don’t know why you didn’t entertain the idea. You probably just didn’t want to.

And now, you’re standing in front of a little child. Her light brown, curly hair is up in two little pigtails. She’s wearing a baby blue dress with flowers embroidered on it. It’s clearly worn out and quite old, reused and resold many times, but the tissue is beautiful nonetheless. Her big eyes are observing you with a sense of curiosity, confusion, and maybe a hint of wonderment.

“Mino! I told you to never open the door by yourself!” you hear a man from behind scolding with a clear spark of fear in his voice. After a few moments, he finally arrives, limping and struggling.

“But daddy, you shouldn’t walk!” the little girl retorts while looking up at him, looking just as concerned as her father. The sound of her cute, child-like voice alone breaks your heart.

“Yes I should. Mino, don’t ever do that again. We’ll talk later,” he warns sternly while glancing you over. He quickly lifts her up and holds her on his hip, though he’s clearly struggling because of his broken leg.

“What can I do for you?” he asks, wariness coating his voice.

You swallow. You can’t even manage to say anything; all you can do is stare. You take in his green eyes, which are a similar shade to his daughter’s. His eyebags. The tired lines tracing his features, undoubtedly due to all the misery he has been dealing with. The fear of losing his daughter and the rest of his family. You look at his curly brown hair, not quite the same color as his daughter’s, but the resemblance is still obvious.

Your look at the little girl. The way her little fingers are clasping onto the fabric of her father’s shirt. The way she’s observing you, taking you in like children her age take in the entire world with untamable curiosity.

The way they’re holding onto each other. The way she resembles him so much.

Everything within you shatters.

“Are you okay? are you lost?” the man asks. His expression has gone from wariness to concern.

You want to cry.

“What is wrong, my dear? You look frightened. Are you alright?”

You almost whimper in despair. The worry in his voice, the care he feels for a stranger like you, who is just here to destroy him.

You would genuinely rather have Levi hunt you down and murder you than having to enter, lock the man’s daughter up, torture him, and have his screams ring through his house, haunting his daughter’s ears for eternity.

Muffling his screams to prevent her from hearing too much wouldn’t be any less inhumane. Not only is there a chance she might hear it anyway, not only will she see his state after you’re done, but torturing an innocent man who just wants to protect his family is monstruous.

You can’t do it.

What else can you do? Threaten him? But what would you have to do to come off as a bigger threat than the ones who are threatening him right now? Would you have to physically grab his little daughter and tell him that if he doesn’t give out the information, you’ll kill her? Would you have to hold a knife onto her throat? Force her trembling, sobbing body in place while you keep a knife on her skin?

You could fucking cry.

You watch him holding her, worryingly looking at you, asking why you aren’t saying anything. Asking you again if everything is alright, offering you help. He seems like a good person. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

You can’t do it.

You look at his daughter again. The green leaves embroidered on her little dress match her eyes, and you can already imagine how happy she must’ve been when she got that dress. She looks up at her father with big, confused eyes, asking if you’re okay. The eyes of a young child who doesn’t deserve any of this.

You can’t do it.

You can’t do it at all.

As you’re staring at the both of them, you decide you would much rather die at the hands of Levi than do whatever monstrosities you’re supposed to do.

And with that thought, you mumble out a vague excuse about having the wrong address, that you were a bit confused, but that you’ll be going now.

When you finally hear the door shutting behind you as you walk away, you let out a long, shuddering exhale.

You did it. You officially fucked up your task.

Not only did you miserably fail this mission, but you also already partially failed your last two tasks. This is it. Levi won. You can now finally say with utmost certainty that you have fucked it all up. You’re not strong enough to be in the gang at all.

You can’t believe it. You’re a criminal in this city, the least you should be able to do is threaten someone. Hell, you should be able to do much worse, like the rest of this cursed place.

You’re a fraud. A fucking failure.

Yet, you don’t regret it. There isn't a single part of you that wants to go back and do the things you were asked to do. Even if somebody else will probably do it in your place, it doesn't change anything. You can’t and won’t do it yourself.

But that alone makes you want to scream in frustration and defeat. The fact you aren’t even capable of going back and fixing things. The fact you’re too weak. Why did you even think you would ever survive in a world of organized crime?

You wouldn’t, and that’s why Levi isn’t going to let you in, and that’s why he will put an end to you instead.

You saunter forward on autopilot, slowly distancing yourself from the house, wondering what the hell you’re supposed to do now, until your thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice.

“At least you’re consistent at fucking things up.”

Your eyes snap up to the voice, and you’re suddenly looking straight into Levi’s eyes. He’s standing in the shadows, in an alley between the two buildings you’re passing. He meets your gaze evenly, unmoving and unfazed.

Of course he would be here to watch from a distance. You’re not even surprised.

You huff bitterly and stare back at the ground, jaw tensed.

“I just couldn’t do it,” you mutter sourly through your teeth. As you do, your desperation turns into anger. You’re angry. So damn angry. Angry and disappointed at him, at yourself, and at the unfairness of it all.

Your confession is answered with complete silence.

You look up at him, and watch how his eyes are stuck on you, observing you in silence.

"Did you know he has a child? And did you know she would be there?" you ask with a strained voice.

"Yes."

You scoff in anger and disbelief. The sick, cruel fuck.

“Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Find my weakness so that you can finally get rid of me?” you ask bitterly, voice poisoned with rage. Rage at the world, rage at him.

He continues to observe you in silence.

You stare him resentfully in the eyes. “Go ahead. I don’t give a shit anymore. If this is your goal, if this is what you truly wanted all along, then go for it. Or at least you can try, because I won’t let you kill me this easily.”

“You think I’d murder you in cold blood because you showed mercy to a helpless child? I’m not a fucking monster, you know,” he responds with irritation.

You frown. What is he even talking about? Yes he would? And yes he is?

 “My goal wasn’t for you to torture the guy and extract the information. I couldn’t care less about it, I already know what he’s hiding,” he declares blandly.

 “I—What?!” 

The son of a bitch.

He looks you steadily in the eyes, unfazed by your reaction. “I didn’t actually want you to torture him or keep his child hostage. I just wanted to see what you were capable of. Test your humanity. If you had gone through with it, that would prove your dedication and compliance, sure, but it wouldn’t have been better at all. In fact, it would've been much worse depending on how far you’d go.”

You huff in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“I need to know what kind of people I let into my group, don’t you think?” he drawls with a lazy shrug.

You grit your teeth in rage. “That little girl’s life isn’t for you to toy with. How dare you play games with these people?! How fucking dare you play a game like this with me?”

He silently observes you with the tiniest hint of a smirk on his mouth, and holy shit you’re about to explode in rage.

“What the fuck is that smile? What if I had gone through with it, huh? You think the trauma inflicted on him and his child would be worth your stupid little game?!” You’re yelling at this point. You don’t even care that you’re out of line here. You’re READY to fight and kill. You were just mentally preparing for your end anyway, you couldn’t care less about it anymore.

“I highly suspected you wouldn’t go too far,” he shrugs. “Besides, it would have been your own decision,” he continues, voice calm and unbothered.

“No it wouldn’t? You can’t just pretend like you have no responsibility in this. You’re threatening my life, for fucks sake. Doesn’t sound like much of a choice to me.”

“Yet, you didn’t go through with it,” he points out without missing a beat.

Oh the fucking smartass.

You grunt in frustration. You’ve had enough. Before you manage to stop yourself, you stalk towards him. You grab him by the collar of his shirt, and harshly push him against the wall. To your surprise, he lets you. he doesn’t even resist one bit. Your hand is pushing at his chest as you look at him in bitter rage. He just calmly looks back, curiously observing your every reaction, as if you’re some sort of fascinating animal he discovered in the wilderness. His eyes trace every single one of your features, taking in all your emotions, all your pain, all the despair that is still bubbling within you, all the fury and rage in your eyes. This mere act only makes you more furious.

“Last time you wanted me to obey no matter what, and now you suddenly want me to follow my morals? Make up your damn mind already you fucking asshole. How does that make any sense?!” Your grip around his collar tightens with fury, which for some reason doesn’t even seem to bother him.

He observes you with rapt attention, with an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. You’ve seen maliciousness, coldness, rage and disinterest. But now, there’s intrigue in his eyes. His grey irises are intently boring into yours as if he just discovered something that fascinates him.

“You already know the answer to that,” he replies calmly.

You’re completely taken aback. Shocked by his answer, and shocked by how relaxed he remains. You’re yelling at him, cursing at him, pushing him against the wall in anger, and he is just … keeping calm? You were actually ready to fight him for once, and he just…. doesn’t do anything? As if he agrees with your reaction, or understands it?

You don’t even know what to say anymore. You have no idea how to react.

And the worst of it all is that you understand what he means. He is right, you do know the answer to your question, because what he wants is logical. He wants you to listen to his orders while still being a human being. Something you genuinely did not expect from the person who is rumored to be one of the most vicious gang leaders in the city. You thought he would want an inhumane machine at his command. Instead, he looks glad to see you didn’t even manage to enter that house. How is your weakness a good thing to him?

You stare at him, with so many questions, but none that pass your lips.

“Softer heart than I thought. Interesting,” he murmurs, seemingly more to himself than to you.

You want to say something, but you’re flabbergasted.

He puts his hand over yours, calmly unclasps your fingers, and removes your hand from his collar. He doesn’t do it forcefully; his movements perfectly match the calmness of his demeanor.

He slowly and gently pushes you away from him before turning around and taking off, looking completely unfazed.

“You passed the test. Congrats, runt.”

And all you can do is stare at him, utterly speechless, as he disappears into the city.

Chapter Text

Head restlessly swirling with thoughts, you slowly make your way through the somber streets of the city. You should probably return home, but quite frankly, it doesn’t even feel like the safety and comfort of your own house could calm your mind right now. Thus, you find yourself aimlessly wandering around, trying to process the events from earlier, but failing to do so.

Honestly, what the -and this cannot be stressed enough- fuck kind of day was this?

First, you got attacked by two gang members. Then, you were asked to torture an innocent soul, which led you to a state of absolute dread and desperation. After an extensive emotional crisis, these feelings were magnified by a factor of ten when you had to face your victims.

And finally, it all turned out to be a joke. 

A joke that, in retrospect, makes sense. Because as much as you hate to say it, you can somewhat understand why Levi deceived you this way. Of course, you’re still enraged by the fact he put you through so much emotional distress, and mostly, by the fact he risked two innocent souls getting hurt. He may have highly suspected you wouldn’t take it too far, but it’s still enraging.

Yet, when you try to put your anger aside, you can see why this was an important test. If you were him, you'd probably want to know what type of person you would let in your gang too, considering the number of heartless brutes that roam the streets.

What messes you up the most, though, is that he didn’t only make you reveal a part of yourself, but he also revealed a part of himself as well.

And quite frankly, you have absolutely no fucking clue what to think of him anymore.

The more you think about all the events you went through, the more exhausted you feel. The fear, the dread, the stress, the emotional pain, the sadness, the rage, the confusion, it’s all coming back at once.

With an exhausted groan, you stop your aimless walk and give up. Before you know it, your legs collapse until you’re sitting on the ground, knees kissing your chest. For a moment, you close your eyes and allow all the emotions from today to relentlessly storm inside of you. It’s only after letting out a deep shuddering sigh and allowing everything to sink in for a few minutes, that you open your eyes again.

You don’t even notice them at first, the children around you, numbly sitting in the dark alleyway, clothes dirty and expressions lifeless. It’s a sight you see every day, after all.

But when you see them, actually see them, not as a sad sight that is part of the everyday city streets, but as individuals who have a story of their own, a harsh, painful tightness seizes your chest. Raw sorrow claws its way through your body. Mixed with the sorrow you felt earlier, it becomes hard to breathe.

You can’t look away, just like every time the realization hits you. You hate that you have no choice but to get used to the sight. You hate that children who have no place to go and are scattered and lost on the street are a mundane, normal view for everyone, yourself included.

The alley is dead silent, save for the muffled sounds of the city, coming from busier streets further away. It’s only a faint background noise, a reminder that while everything here is somber and quiet, life around you keeps going.

The sounds of life take over the somber silence as if it isn’t there to begin with. Maybe that’s why misery is so easy to ignore.

None of the children and adults lifelessly sitting on the filthy tiles are saying a word. You’re looking at them, but they don’t notice. They’re staring down in silence, mind numb and gone.

It breaks you, just like it always does whenever you have the guts and the strength to actually look at these people, and face reality. You desperately wish you could help them, but you’re barely getting through yourself, and the helplessness this causes constricts your chest.

You wonder how they will turn out. How many more years of misery until something within them snaps? When they grow up, will they be able to do what you could not? Will they be able to torture an innocent man, and possibly scar a child to save their own skin?

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living in the brutal city you call home, it’s that all the misery that surrounds you is an endless cycle that feeds itself. A vicious circle where children are surrounded by cruelties since birth, and thus become those same cruelties that will rot others around them.

After all, the Underground is the poorest and most corrupt district that exists, pestered with crime, diseases, malnourishment, abuse, and painful losses. A population buried deep beneath the ground, safely hidden from anyone to see. Too ugly to be acknowledged.

It is no wonder people here tend to lose their minds and their hearts.

So who is to blame, really? Isn’t it inevitable for many to turn into monsters if that’s what it takes to survive? If you’re born drinking sewage water and starving, surrounded with violence and poverty, what choices do you have? It’s a slippery slope, you’ve seen it all too often. The first act of violence is to calm an aching stomach for a piece of bread. Then, it is to sustain respect as a form of self-protection. Eventually, it becomes an act of pleasure to stay at the top.

You’ve discovered throughout your life that the ones who are truly the source of all of this, are the ones in power who purposely keep this place poor and corrupt for their own benefit.

And while they’re sipping on their expensive champagne, you’re all out here destroying each other.

This city, which has been ruined beyond repair, has one major rule that everyone knows implicitly: the survival of the fittest. If you want to live well, if you want to have a decent income and live a life without getting crushed by others, you have to allow your heart to harden. Becoming cold and cruel is a survival tactic, and for many, it is a necessity. It’s not that there aren’t any warm hearts and soft souls in this city, it would be incredibly naïve for you to claim so, but from everything you’ve seen, you can confidently say that a large part of the population has lost their humanity a long time ago.

And a significant part of the ones who haven’t, either barely make it above water, or get crushed until they’re eventually forced to lose themselves, or a part of themselves.

And you? You have no idea where you stand in all of this. Life has changed you, but it hasn’t taken away your essence. Not entirely, at least. Not yet. You’ve had the fortune of being sheltered, protected, and loved, for more than half of your life. Your entire life even, dare you say. Even when you lost your parents, you were still loved by your sister, you were still protected by your sharp senses, warning you whenever any danger was around, and you were still sheltered by the home your parents left behind.

An unfair balance.

One that allowed the Underground to morph you enough to survive, to do crimes for a living and toughen up, but not enough to crush your emotional vulnerability.

Though you’ve undoubtedly become stronger over the years, you’re also painfully aware of how soft you still are deep inside. The unconditional love you were raised with, something most children in this city don’t have the luxury of growing up with, has been engrained too deeply within you. You remember your parents always telling you that you were born with a soft heart. In your own words: you were a weak child. They tried to force your strengths to bloom, but they always saw your empathy and good heart as one of your strong points.

It was only after they passed away that you started to believe they might have been utterly wrong. Your emotional vulnerability wasn’t a strength, it was a curse.

Though your compassion has brought wonderful things in your life, like Gary, it has also brought you into deep trouble numerous times. Your general vulnerability has made you afraid to form any kind of connections or interactions with people you don’t know, which in turn has resulted in your loneliness. Your fear and self-doubt, though you don’t really let it control you anymore, is always there to haunt you. It’s a little voice you always have to consciously bite back, and the main reason you’re able to do so is probably because your love is stronger than it. Your love for your parents, who would’ve wanted you to keep going. Your love for your sister, Finn, and Gary, who need you to keep taking care of yourself and keep on surviving.

You used to think that by now, all of that would be gone. You thought you would’ve turned into a cold-blooded criminal, like so many people seem to be in this city. But you haven’t. And you don’t know if this is because these weaknesses of yours are inherently part of you, and thus impossible to push out of you, or if it’s because you’ve been protected so much by your special genetic heritage and your parent’s training, that becoming cold blooded is unnecessary for your survival. You suppose it’s a mix of both.

You’re still left with so many questions, though. Is it really impossible to just thrive decently in this city without excess privileges like yours, while still having a heart? Is it really true that many have become heartless, or are they just good at pretending they are? Do they feel the same emotions you feel?

Even if more people feel a sense of remorse than you may think, how many of them would still be capable of torturing a wounded man and potentially scarring a child to save their own skin? How many have had to brutally learn since birth that survival is the only thing that matters, no matter what?

Are you inferior and weaker for not being able to fully adapt to that line of thinking, or is it on the contrary something you need to hold on to? Is it a curse, or is it a precious gem you’re blessed with, one that can be torn away from you at any point?

Those emotions you can’t seem to get rid of, can you really call them weaknesses?

Your rough environment has been telling you they are.

Your parents always preached otherwise.

And Levi, someone who you’re sure has seen way too many horrors in his lifetime, undeniably more than you, does… not see them as weaknesses?

He surely doesn’t seem to mind that part of you. Why? Why the fuck? You thought he was heartless and sadistic, but last night’s events indicate that he’s not, and you genuinely don’t know what to think of him anymore.

His words are still ringing in your ears.

“Softer heart than I thought. Interesting.”

He didn’t say it in a degrading way. He didn’t tell you it would be your doom. He didn’t say it made you a weak person, or that because of this, you had no place in the gang. Instead, he seemed intrigued. He seemed…

Relieved.

And it’s absolutely fucking with your mind.

Right when you thought his spitefulness would reach its peak, right when you believed he would destroy you for attacking him, he was the warmest he had ever been with you. And that, only because he saw how incapable you are of harming people who truly don’t deserve it.

Which must mean he follows that line of thinking. At least, to a certain extent. There’s no other explanation, right?

How can he possibly be so merciless and so merciful at the same time?

Well, to be fair, the same could be asked about you. You aren’t exactly merciful to the brutal scum in the city either, yet, you still find yourself occasionally sobbing at night whenever you vividly remember the poor and weak citizens you robbed when you were younger. The memory of their panicked or watering eyes when you stole their food, which they needed just as desperately as you, is still enough to break you.

One hell of a duality, that is.

And you’re starting to suspect Levi might deal with a similar duality too.

Brutal, but not a rotten heart necessarily.

Could his ice-cold demeanor, and the chilling rumors that surround him, be a façade? If it is, it seems you might be overestimating how many people in this city are completely heartless.

The mere realization that you truly don’t know what actually lies in people’s hearts, is hurting your brain.

You let out an exhausted sigh as you try to wrap your head around the concept. Maybe, many here are secretly more humane than you think. Maybe, he is more humane than you think. 

Quite frankly, you don’t think you’re the only one whose brain got cracked. Judging by the way Levi observed you with fascination and intrigue, you suspect the feeling might be mutual. It's like at that moment, something between you changed, and it happened on both sides. He saw you from a different angle, and so did you.

Maybe he isn’t half as bad as you thought he was, and maybe his gang isn’t either. After all, it seems he only wants to work with people who show a basic sense of compassion. The fact he’s close to someone like Furlan, who on first sight seems to have a pretty good heart, only confirms that.

And maybe, if you succeed your last mission, you will be alright.

Feeling more determined now, you scrape up enough energy to haul yourself to your feet. You quietly glance at the children in front of you, before letting out a shuddering exhale.

You will be back. It’s a silent promise you’re making. If you manage to pay your sister’s treatment, and the gang’s income gives you a slight leverage, you will be back here to give whatever leverage you have. Even if it’s just a piece of bread.

But for now, there is nothing any of you can do but keep pushing.

...................

After a somewhat restless night, you return to the hideout for your last mission. You knock on the door, and this time, Levi opens up. The moment your eyes meet, you feel your body slightly tensing up. It’s only been a day since you last saw him, and your last interaction was quite… peculiar. It isn’t everyday you curse at people and slam them against cold walls, after all.

Not to mention you’re still thoroughly mind-fucked about him in general.

He looks at you for a second, and without saying a word, he jerks his chin for you to come inside.

Furlan, who is sitting at the table at the back of the room, looks up and greets you with a smile as you walk in. He then waves for you to come over while Levi closes the door behind you.

“Ready for your last mission?” he asks, as you join him and seat yourself around the table.

“Depends on what it is,” you answer carefully.

Levi walks over to join both of you at the table. “You’ll have to put your robbing and fighting skills to use this time,” he explains calmly as he seats himself across from you.

His eyes flicker up to yours once he’s comfortably seated. “I know you managed yourself well when fighting Axon, but I want to see what you’re fully capable of.”

“Alright, I’m listening,” you murmur, slightly doubtful but also a bit thrilled and curious now.

“We want you to rob two men who are going to sell a large batch of drugs tomorrow,” Levi explains. “Technically, you could try to discretely pickpocket them, but I wouldn’t count on it too much. These shitheads aren’t the type to easily let themselves get robbed or get messed with in general, so I’d take my best weapons if I were you.”

He gives you a small look before continuing. “Don’t be afraid to hurt them in the process. They’ve already messed around with us before, so really, we’re just returning the favor. We don’t care how you do it, but get the money and bring it to us.”

“I can take it they aren’t innocent this time?” you ask, unable to keep the snark out of your voice. You still haven’t forgotten about last time, and you aren’t going to pretend you have.

Levi scoffs, and you can’t tell whether he’s irritated or amused. Maybe both.

“Far from that,” he informs you with a dark undertone.

“Really far from that,” Furlan accentuates.

“We handpicked the lowest fucking scum we could find, so do whatever you want. They’re absolute sacks of dogshit,” Levi elaborates bluntly.

“Great,” you reply, mildly amused. Such an elegant way with words, he has.

You suppose it makes sense that after testing what you’re capable of doing to weak innocent people who don’t deserve any pain, Levi wants to see what you can do against the ones who do deserve it.

You look at both of them for a moment. “What kind of things have they done?” you ask. If you’re going to harm these men, you would rather know to what extent they deserve it. Whenever you rob someone yourself, you always go to Gary for horrific rumors about the cruel acts they’ve performed in their lives as well. It’s the only way you can easily dehumanize them, and harm them without feeling guilty. 

Levi seems to immediately understand what you need, because he proceeds to tell you every gruesome crime they’ve committed, without sparing you a single detail. He isn’t sugar coating a single part of it, and holy shit, it’s even worse than you thought it would be. A countless number of unjustified murders, sexual assault, numerous cases of child abuse, black mailing, torture, the list goes on and on. While he keeps hitting you with gruesome facts in the most casual way, you feel yourself getting slightly nauseous.

He’s in the midst of explaining how the two thugs have forced a number of innocent people and children into drug addiction to feed their business, when you decide you’ve heard enough.

“-Alright alright, I get it,” you interrupt quickly with a grimace of disgust. “Thanks for the details though, good to know they’re absolute fucking monsters.”

There’s a faint twinkle of amusement in Levi’s eyes. “I can trust you won’t be held back by too much sympathy this time?”

You scoff. “Don’t worry, your explanation was convincing enough.”

“Good.” His eyes on you are dark, but he seems satisfied.

“As you can probably tell, they’re very dangerous people, so be careful,” Furlan warns.

 You turn to him with a slightly concerned frown. “How skilled are they exactly?”

“They’re ex-members from the Katan gang, don’t know if you’ve ever heard of them, but they’re pretty good at combat and they’re absolute fucking animals. So make sure they don’t catch you.”

“Lovely,” you mumble sarcastically.

Furlan smiles a little. “Don’t worry, Levi will watch over you. If it turns south, he’ll intervene.”

You quirk a brow and glance at Levi, whose eyes are still steadily fixed on you. Your gazes lock, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Honestly, you’re quite surprised you’re promised his protection. You thought he would leave you to your own devices.

After a brief moment of silent eye-contact, you look away. Staring into his eyes for too long still makes you somewhat nervous.

“Alright,” you say, voice determined.  “I’ll do it.”

...................

You’re crouched on a rooftop and hidden behind a large chimney, while sharply keeping an eye on the location Levi and Furlan gave you. If what they told you is correct, the deal will occur any time soon. For now, your plan is to follow the two drug sellers after the deal, and attack once they’re alone.

You’re quite anxious, if you’re going to be perfectly honest. You may regularly target criminals and thugs, but you’ve always avoided the more dangerous ones.

Well, that is, until you targeted Levi’s gang, but you digress.

Though you’re nervous, you also find the rush to be slightly satisfying. You don’t have too much to panic about, after all: those fuckheads won’t be expecting your attack, and additionally, you came well prepared. Before coming here, you took Levi’s advice to heart and grabbed all the weapons you might need. Five throwable knives, one crossbow, and one regular knife. It should suffice.

You glance around for a sign of Levi, but you don’t see him. Did he even bothered to come? You’re not even sure at this point. Either way, you can’t depend on him. This is your moment to prove what you’re capable of, and you’re not going to fail.

After a few moments of waiting around, you suddenly hear footsteps approaching. Two men are marching towards the location of the deal, but they don’t match the description Levi and Furlan gave you. When they stop at the location in question, you conclude they’re probably the buyers. Knowing you will have to get into action soon, you pull your black handkerchief up to cover your face up to your nose, and continue waiting.

After a few more minutes, you hear two other people approaching. You squint your eyes, and immediately recognize them as the drug sellers you will target. As they approach the other two men, a wave of anger and disgust floods through you. All the gruesome details Levi gave you are still fresh in your mind, haunting your thoughts. You’re already itching to grab your knife and avenge their victims, but you keep still and patient nonetheless.

Their time will come.

You quickly retreat behind the chimney when the four men suddenly start to gingerly look around, clearly making sure they’re alone. The next moment, you hear them murmuring and talking to each other, and you dare to take a quick glance. Though they’re being quite discrete, you don’t miss the way one of the sellers takes out a huge bag of questionable looking substance out of his pockets, and hands it to one of the buyers.

Then, another one.

And another one, holy shit.

Levi really wasn’t joking when he told you it would be a large batch.  

Once the deal is finally over, you wait until the two buyers are out of sight before starting to follow your targets. With both their backs turned against you, you follow them from a distance, slinking as quietly as possible from roof to roof. Body tense and sweat prickling down your spine, you focus all your energy on carefully controlling your movements. You ought to be extremely careful. If they notice you, you’re fucked.

It’s only once you reach a building that is small enough to easily climb down, that you decide to do so. After your feet softly hit the ground, you draw out the crossbow strapped on your back, and continue following the two men in utmost quietness. The neighborhood you’re in is dangerous but empty, meaning that if you attack soon, you will be able to get away without any witnesses. You’re fully aware you have to make use of this, because you really can’t risk anyone interfering.

Knowing this, you slightly quicken your pace to get closer, while simultaneously looking around every so often to make sure no one else is in sight.

Suddenly, you hear the two men stop. You freeze, eyes widened at the thought they might have heard you, but you quickly realize they stopped to discuss something. They’re both standing in an empty alley, murmuring and whispering things to each other, though you can’t understand what they’re saying.

Slinking forward, you carefully approach the alley until you’re right around the corner. Judging by how close they sound, you can tell you’re only a couple of steps away from them. This mere fact makes your pulse quicken rapidly, but you force yourself to keep your head cool. If you make a single noise now, things will turn horribly wrong.

Daring to take a quick peep around the corner, you notice both their backs are turned against you. It seems they’re both recounting the money they just received, and calculating the total sum out loud.

This is your chance.

You’re close to them, they’re not looking at you, and they’re focused on counting their cash.

You swallow, heartrate quickening as you try to form a plan. When your gaze falls on a couple of empty bottles at your feet, you realize what you need to do.

Lurking around the corner, you decide to first attack the one standing on the right. He seems bulkier and stronger, so you ought to take him out immediately. Grabbing your crossbow, you aim at the back of his knee, the weakest point you can possibly hit from this angle without killing him.

A very cruel place to hit, considering there’s a high chance he will never walk again. Also, it’s an incredibly painful place to rupture. However, it’s your safest option, one that has the highest chances of immediate loss of leg function. If you shoot anywhere else, he most likely won’t be properly neutralized, and you can’t risk having both of these monsters attacking you at the same time.

The moment you place your finger on the trigger, a sudden, unexpected image flashes before your eyes.

You see the lost, lifeless children collapsed on the ground again. Staring down, sitting in the same alleyway as you.

Suddenly, you’re frozen into place.

Will one of these children become like the man you’re about to incapacitate for life?

He was probably an innocent child at one point too, wasn’t he? What was he like? Where did it go wrong?

If you were born in the same circumstances as him, could you have possibly ended up the same way?

… Is permanently destroying this man, and risking his life if he doesn't get proper medical care, even the right thing to do?

For a moment, the world around you stops spinning. Your index finger is hesitantly lingering on the trigger. Is this habit of yours, mercilessly hurting people who you think deserve it, even okay? What is even right or wrong?

Then, you remember Levi’s words, and the images that formed in your mind when he explained what kind of absolute fucking sadists these two monsters are. At that, the little bit of understanding and hesitance within you disappears as quickly as it came.

Suddenly, you’re filled with boiling anger and repulsion.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, can excuse the things they’ve done. No matter if their crimes were shaped by their nature and their rough lives, it doesn’t mean they shouldn’t suffer the consequences of their actions. If they don't act like humans, they don't get to be treated as such. This is the least their victims deserve.

With newfound anger, you pull the trigger without hesitating a second longer.

The arrow hits right at the back of the man’s knee, and the next moment, the silence around you is filled with an excruciating scream. His comrade immediately turns around, and you quickly shoot at his leg too.

Due to his quick movements, you hit his thigh instead of his knee, and a confused grunt tears out of his mouth. For a brief moment, he stares down at his pierced leg, trying to process he just got shot.

You don’t wait a second longer. You grab one of the thick glass bottles, and throw it right at his head with all the force you have. The glass practically explodes against his skull, causing him to stumble back and collapse on the ground.

You don’t have time to check whether he’s unconscious or not. You quickly grab a second bottle, and leap for the man you shot first. He’s panting in pain and leaning on the wall while blindly reaching for the arrow at the back of his knee, clearly still trying to understand what’s happening.

He hears you approaching and tries to turn to you on his dysfunctional leg, but it’s too late. Before he can do anything, you smash the glass bottle as hard as you can on his skull. The impact is so strong that his head bangs against the stone wall, and the next moment, he collapses on the ground with a loud groan.

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you stare at the limp body laying on the ground. The other one is groaning and shuffling, disoriented but clearly conscious, and you realize you have absolutely zero time to waste.

You reach for the man’s pocket to take out his money, but that’s when you suddenly feel a strong grip on your leg. Your eyes widen in horror when you realize shooting him in the knee and slamming his head against the wall wasn’t enough. Before you can do anything, he pulls at your leg, tumbling you down. You’re disoriented for a second, but you rapidly come back to your senses and kick him in the face using your free leg. A guttural groan, mixed with the sound of a nauseating crack echoes in the alleyway. Without thinking, you kick again, now on his already broken nose.

He growls angrily, but this time, his grip on your leg loosens. You immediately tear yourself free, and with a heaving chest and a thundering pulse, you crawl back until you’re away from his reach.

That’s when your heart stops.

The other man is back on his feet, arrow deeply pierced in his thigh and blood streaming from his forehead. The dark liquid is dripping down his jaw, and there are still small pieces of glass stuck in his skin. His eyes on you are bloodshot and murderous, hungry for your blood and flesh. You glance in terror at the long, sharp knife he’s gripping, knuckles white from the raging force he’s exerting.

A silent scream gets stuck in your throat as he bounces towards you at an alarming pace.

You don’t have time to think. You instinctively reach for your throwable knife and hurl it straight at him as fast as you possibly can.

The sound that follows, is something you probably could’ve never prepared yourself for.

It is about the most horrifying thing you’ve ever heard.

You can only stare, in absolute and complete horror, at how your knife pierced straight into his… groin.

The silence around you is entirely filled with a deep, guttural, sort of gagging scream. Something between a growl and a cry, tearing from deep inside his throat.

All you can do is stare in absolute terror and disgust as he collapses on his knees, eyes bulging out while he gapes at his own crotch, veins nearly popping out of his forehead. His breathing is erratic and irregular, and it looks like he’s about to pass out any moment.

You’re frozen in place.

Stabbing someone in the leg, you can stomach. But straight in the genitals? The mere idea makes you nauseous. You didn’t even do it on purpose. You had no idea you were going to hit him there.

When he collapses on the ground entirely, body going numb, you snap back to reality. You haul yourself to your feet, and stare at both your victims. The one you attacked first is gawking at his comrade in disbelief, while holding his hand over his broken nose.

At the sight of his horrified face, a wave of triumph awakens inside of you. Suddenly, the sick feeling in your stomach is replaced by a strange feeling of satisfaction. The pain you’ve inflicted on them doesn’t even come close to everything they’ve inflicted onto others. It was about fucking time they felt it too. The horror and suffering they’re so used to putting others through, is finally returning back to them, and quite frankly, the thought is extremely gratifying.

With a new feeling of determination, you approach him.

Your lips automatically curl up into a sadistic smirk. “What’s wrong? I'd say castration is the only thing you animals deserve, don’t you agree?” you hum lightly.

His head snaps to you, eyes widened, and he quickly reaches for his pocket-knife. Luckily, you’re much faster than him, and you crush his hand with your shoe before he has the chance to draw out his blade. He grunts in pain, and you decide it would only be fair to give him a hard stomp in the balls too. When he screams in agony and tries to blindly reach for you, you kick his skull to weaken him.

After the impact, his groans turn into and stream of incomprehensible mumbling, and his eyes flutter shut. He’s been hit multiple times on the head with full force now, and it seems he’s finally losing consciousness.

Without waiting a second longer, you reach for his pockets and take the heavy bags of money out of them. Brain on autopilot, you stalk to the other limp body, and look through his pockets as well. As you do, you try your best not to glance at the blade in his crotch, and the pool of blood on the ground. Harming some brutes is nothing new to you, but you’ve rarely gone this far. However, there’s no time to try to process or stomach it now. Self-reflection will come later.

Pockets full of cash, you march out of the alleyway at a fast pace.

When you look back one last time, you swallow. You’ve left a trail of bloody footsteps on the ground, and the sight alone sends a shiver down your spine. You stare at both men, bloodied and limp. One of them is moving and shuffling a little, half conscious, but the other one isn’t moving at all.

Shattered glass, two arrows, one knife, and a good amount of blood.

You’re not sure whether you should feel victorious or horrified. In reality, both feelings are storming within you at the same time.

... At least Levi and Furlan will be pleased, you suppose.

Taking a deep breath, you wipe your bloody shoes on the wall, and turn around to rapidly distance yourself from the crime scene.

Mind racing with gruesome images of the acts you just committed, you make your way through the busy city streets. It’s strange to be around people and the common folk again, and to have enthusiastic merchants luring you in and children running past you, when you just brutally castrated someone a few minutes ago.

You always feel this way whenever you commit an act of violence. The images always haunt you for a couple of nights, but then, you eventually get over it. You suppose now will be no different.

When you arrive at the hideout, pockets heavy from all the cash you’re carrying, you let out a deep sigh.

You did it. You performed all your tasks, and now will be the moment of truth.

You stare at the headquarters, heart beating faster than it should.

Time to hear what Levi and Furlan have to say.

Chapter Text

Two knocks on the front door of the hideout, and Levi is the one to open up. Just like last time, he gives you a brief glance, and silently signs for you to come inside. As you walk in, he closes the door behind you and leans back on it. With an unreadable glint, his eyes slowly travel over you, observing you in silence.

His gaze makes you slightly nervous, causing you to uncomfortably clear your throat. “I uh… have the money.”

A dark almost-smile reaches his lips. “I know.”

So he was watching after all.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say, so you just reach for the multiple bags sitting in your cape and hand them over to him. Levi briefly glances down at your hands and accepts the bags. Without saying a word, he walks past you and seats himself at the table located at the back of the room. He swiftly takes all the money out of the bags, stacks it in an organized matter, and starts counting it.

It’s only after a few moments that his gaze darts up to you, as you stand there, unsure of what to do.

“Sit down,” he orders calmly. 

With a soft sigh, you walk towards the couch and make yourself comfortable. “Furlan isn’t here?” 

“No,” he murmurs without giving you any further explanation.

You observe him for a moment as he rapidly counts the cash you stole. It’s only now, when you’re looking at the amount laying on the table, that you fully realize how much money you actually managed to put your hands on. It blows your mind Levi was able to find out about such a big trade.

You wait until he's finished counting one stack, before asking the question that is lingering on your tongue. “So… how did I do?”

“I'd say that performance of yours was good enough, don't worry,” he reassures with a mild hint of irony as he grabs another handful of cash. He isn’t looking at you, but he sounds amused.

You clear your throat. “So you saw the uhh…”

“Mhm.” There's a hint of a smile threatening to reach his features.

You scoff uncomfortably, cringing at the idea of Levi watching you stabbing someone straight in the dick. You wish you could've seen his reaction, but maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t.

“Your speech did wonders,” you admit.

Grey eyes flutter to you. “I noticed. Quite painful to watch, even for me.” 

You can't help but let the disturbing images flash through your mind again. The horrific screams the man was making, the way it looked like his veins were going to pop out of his head at any second, all the blood.

An expression of disgust runs through your face. “Yeah, well…they deserved it,” you murmur darkly as you turn your gaze away from him, fiddling with a loose thread of your pants.

You feel Levi’s eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he brings his attention back to the money.

After he’s done with a second stack, you look at him again.

“So, what now?” you ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t look up as he organizes the banknotes in front of him. “You’re in.”

“... I’m in? Really?” You eye him suspiciously, feeling wary.

Would he really let you in just like that, despite all your fuckups? Though your relationship has progressed past burning hate, you don’t feel safe letting your guards down around Levi yet. You often feel like there's a catch to everything he does.

“Mhm,” he hums noncommittedly, fingers quickly sliding over the banknotes.

“Even though I failed about half the missions?” you ask, the wariness obvious in your tone.

His glare shifts from the money to you, and he suddenly stops the count. With a barely audible sigh, he leans back on his chair to properly look at you. “What exactly did you fail?”

“I cut Axon’s fingers off,” you point out uncomfortably.

“For a good reason. You underestimated me, but that was our first mission together so I can’t blame you for it.”

You briefly wonder if you should really continue advocating against yourself and list your failures, but at the same time, you want to get to the bottom of this. It’s not that you want to argue with him for letting you into the group, but you need to make sure he won’t hang anything over your head later on.

“What about the money stealing… test … thing?” you mutter, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to call that backstabbing event. You shudder slightly when you remember his cold malicious eyes, his dark murmurs in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin, and good FUCKING Lord your moan.

You instantly regret bringing it up, but you force your gaze steady, praying the flustered and uncomfortable feeling that is bubbling inside of you isn’t visible on your features.

“You didn’t take anything, did you?” he simply shrugs.

You relax a little, relieved he didn’t notice.

At least, you hope so.

“I didn’t even enter the house on that torturing mission.” 

He gives you an exasperated eyeroll. “And I already told you that was a good thing. If you would’ve entered, I wouldn’t have let you cross the line anyway, and I’m glad I didn’t have to.”

You pause for a moment, a frown forming on your face. “You would’ve stopped me if I went too far?”

“Why do you think I was standing there and keeping watch to begin with? I’m not going to let you irreversibly traumatize a little child,” he points out, as if what he’s saying is blatantly obvious.

You blink, and for a moment, you’re speechless.

Is he this compassionate?

“Why didn’t you just say so?” you ask with a frown, “I’m sure I wouldn’t have lost my shit if I had known there wasn’t as much at stake.”

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” he replies, sharp eyes not leaving yours for one second.

“… What?”

“I needed to see to what extent the mission upset you. If I’m going to test your humanity, I might as well do it properly,” he explains dully.

You stare at him in disbelief.

So he was never even going to let you traumatize that man and his child to begin with? And he purposely didn’t tell you during your breakdown?

You remember the way he was continuously observing you, the way he was taking in your outburst with open arms, the way it looked like he understood your reaction and agreed to it. Even when you pushed him against the wall, he didn’t resist.

He agreed with how much you were against his actions, because his test still didn’t entail what you thought it did. He never planned to allow the monstrosities you thought he would allow.

He was still testing you, even when you thought he was done.

You suddenly remember his little smirk when you told him the man’s life, and his daughter’s life, wasn’t for him to toy with.

It’s because he never meant to, it was all a bluff.

The fucking bastard.

You can’t believe it. Not fully telling you his plans in order to seek out your reaction is an incredibly well-calculated trick to make you reveal who you are inside. So much so that the idea didn’t cross your mind at all.

How come you keep underestimating him? You know that the ability to wrap one’s hand around other minds, the ability to read people, to manipulate them, and to seek out specific reactions, is an important survival tactic. For someone in his position, with his popularity, in an environment as brutal as this city, you would almost say it’s a crucial skill to have.

Yet, you didn’t expect him to go this far. 

It’s a relief he wouldn’t have let you scar the man and his child for life, but it’s also infuriating to see how good he is at toying with your mind.

Levi lets out a displeased sigh. “Oi, spare me that little frown of yours. Like I said back then, I need to know who I let into the group. I’m not going to let anyone in without having an understanding of who they are, and you’re not an exception.”

You let out a defeated sigh and tear your eyes away from him.

You suppose he has a point. As much as you hate being manipulated, there's no denying it was a smart move. Frankly, it’s more impressive than it is infuriating, the way he managed to make you reveal the full depth of your emotions, the way he got you to the point you shoved him against the wall despite how dangerous it was to physically attack him. Hell, you were so angered by the idea he would allow a little girl to get hurt that you were more than ready to fight him to death. If he had immediately been honest to you, he would’ve never seen how upset you were by the whole ordeal in the first place.

He purposely made you drop all the cards on the table for him to see. All the despair and dread you felt during the mission, all the empathy you desperately tried to push away, came bursting out at once, right in front of his eyes to observe. He purposely took a direct look at the way your heart functions, in the most well-calculating way.

Unbelievable. He’s even smarter, and also even more humane and compassionate than you thought he was.

Your eyes travel to his again. He’s comfortably sitting on his chair and lazily looking at you, completely unbothered, and probably on the edge of being bored.

This fucking guy.

“I can’t believe you,” you mutter.

“I know,” he responds blandly. “Now, do you want me to accept you in the damn gang or not?”

And with that, your swirling thoughts about him come to a stop. It hits you at once: you’ve succeeded.

You’re going to be in the gang. You actually did it.

All your efforts, all the dreadful feelings and stressful emotions, it all paid off.

Whether Levi fully trusts you yet, you don’t know. Probably not. But he trusts you enough to incorporate you in his gang, and that alone is enough to make you crack a little smile and nod.

“Good,” he murmurs. Then, he goes back to counting the money.

There’s a moment of silence, only filled with the rustling of the cash he’s counting.

“So… uh, am I dismissed?” you ask carefully, uncertain of what the rules are now. You’ve never worked with someone, let alone for someone, and you’re not sure to which extent you have to treat him like your boss.

“No.”

You frown, wondering if he’s going to bother to give you an explanation, but he doesn’t.

You briefly contemplate asking him to elaborate, but you’ve probably interrupted him enough for now, so you lean your head back and decide to wait it out.

As you sit there, relaxed and in silence, you notice this is the first time you actually feel comfortable in Levi’s presence. Not a small feat, considering he was your worst enemy only a couple of days ago.

You glance at him as he’s focused on his work. His fingers are moving impressively fast, and it seems he’s already more than halfway through the entire sum. Your eyes glide from his thin, agile fingers to his slender wrists. Then, to his lean arms. His loose cuffed white shirt falls right below his elbows. It’s spotless, without a hint of dirt or stains. Your eyes travel up to his facial features. He’s focused, but his expression is neutral and relaxed. You realize that one of the things that makes him particularly attractive — because you’ve long accepted there’s no point in denying that fact — is the contrast between his different features. His dark lashes against his silver eyes. His black locks falling over his pale complexion. The sharpness of his facial structure compared to his soft looking skin, the— 

You’re harshly erupted out of your thoughts when you’re suddenly making direct eye contact with a pair of grey-blue irises. Those eyes you were observing a second ago are looking straight at you now, and your heart leaps at the realization Levi just caught you red-handed.

He lifts a brow as he side-eyes you, silently asking what the hell you’re staring at. Ignoring the heat of embarrassment in your neck, you try to act as casually as possible by lazily looking away, and closing your eyes as you lean your head back on the couch. He must’ve sensed you were observing him all along, and fuck this is uncomfortable.

How do you embarrass yourself every time? A mystery. All you know is that you’re never staring at Levi again.

For now.

After a couple of minutes, you hear him getting up and walking towards you. You open your eyes and look up at him standing in front of you, stretching out a bag at you.

“This is for you.”

You frown in confusion. “What’s that?”

“Your part, from your tasks. Well, three of your tasks, since one of them didn’t bring up anything,” he explains.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you look at the bag. “Wait, but… I thought that money was for you guys?”

“We’re taking a part of it because we fetched the information for the missions, but the rest of it is for you. You did most of the work, and I know you need it anyway.” His last words carry a hint of softness, and you have to blink a few times to process what you’re hearing.

You didn’t expect this at all. Is it fair to pay you for your efforts? You suppose. However, you’re not in the gang yet, he doesn’t own you anything, and he could easily keep the money for himself. In a sense, that would be fair too, considering you’ve stolen a substantial amount from them. Keeping everything for him and his gang would be an equitable repayment, but it looks like Levi doesn’t expect any repayment from you at all.

And quite frankly, you’re speechless.

“Fuck’s sake just take it already,” he groans while rolling his eyes impatiently.

You give him a brief look, and you can’t help but smile in amusement at his impatient frown. Deciding you better not make him wait any longer for your own sake, you accept the bag.

As you try to grab it, your fingers accidently brush his, and your eyes both flick up to each other at the same time. After a second of eye-contact, you quickly look away and take the bag, feeling a bit flustered by the fact Levi seemed to be as hyperaware of the physical touch as you.

This unexpected tension is immediately forgotten the moment you realize how heavy the bag feels in your hands.

“Did… did you purposefully make me do high-profit tasks?” you stammer in disbelief.

He looks down at you with an indifferent look. “Yes, in the very unlikely case you wouldn’t turn out to be a worthless little shit.”

“You’re so kind,” you hum.

He ignores your sarcastic reply. He’s just about to turn around when you accidentally gasp. You feel his eyes on you as you stare in shock at the money inside the bag.

“H-how much is it?” you stammer.

The moment the number leaves his lips, your jaw practically drops.

“How?" you breathe out in shock.

“Like I said, I made you do high-profit tasks,” Levi responds with a lazy shrug. “That shithead you spied on during your first mission organized a surprisingly massive trade. For the second mission, Axon owed me a lot, and since you helped me you’re getting a part of it. As for the drug deal from today, I don’t think you need any further explanation.”

He isn’t kidding when he’s talking about high-profit tasks. Compared to the gang's previous heists, this amount is exceptionally high.

You stare into his eyes, looking for answers. “But… you could’ve easily given me shitty missions and kept the high-profit tasks for you and your boys.”

“I could’ve,” he admits. “But you wanted to join us because you really need quick cash. I’d be an absolute dickhead if I made you go through all that effort, wasted your time, and didn’t give you what you desperately need, wouldn't I?”

You can’t even make out all the emotions that are flooding you right now. Shock, excitement, hope, disbelief, but also… wariness. That never-ending wariness and distrust. Does he have a second motive? Why on earth would he do this for you? Does he really feel sorry for you, or is this a trap?

You don’t really think twice before the honest words leave your lips. “I don’t get it. Since when do you care about not being a dickhead to me?”

He lets out an annoyed groan. “Shut the fuck up and take it before I regret my damn decision.”

Ignoring his swearing, you search for something in his eyes, a sign that there's a catch.

But when you only see deep annoyance, you can’t help but smile and chuckle.

Once again, it turns out he might not be as bad as you think.

You open the bag and stare at the contents, your eyes widening in excitement. Your heart leaps when you realize that this, together with everything you’ve saved, might be enough to pay for Luna’s hospitalization.

You swallow in shock. If Levi’s counting is correct, and if you didn’t miscount the money that you already have laying at home, you must have enough to pay for the treatment.

You… did it?

You can barely grasp your head around the realization.

This nightmare might finally be over. Maybe Luna will be okay after all. Maybe you’ll see her smile again.

Looking down in the bag once more, you stare at the stacks of paper that will allow your sister to live. You blink in disbelief.

You won’t be alone. You won’t have to watch the person you love the most die and disappear forever. You won’t have to watch Finn crumble into a dark tunnel of despair any longer. You won’t have to lose the only person who shares your past, the only one who truly knows you and loves you unconditionally. You fulfilled your promise to protect her.

An overwhelming storm of emotions floods you. You want to laugh hysterically, cry, scream in excitement, maybe jump into Levi’s arms while you’re at it.

But you force yourself to remain calm as you look up at him, eyes gleaming with happiness and a smile as broad as it can possibly get. “Thank you so much,” you breathe.

He looks down at you strangely, as if he has never seen someone this happy before and doesn’t know how to react to it.

You don’t care, though. You could scream in excitement right now. Truly, he can’t blame you after what he just handed to you, doesn't matter if he isn't aware of the true reason behind your relief.

You give him a last warm grin before standing up and darting towards the door. Suddenly realizing you forgot to even ask for permission to leave, you turn around and look at him. He’s just standing there, staring at you with an arched brow.

“Sorry, can I leave or was there anything else?” you ask.

He scoffs. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You look at him, and with every millisecond of silence that passes by, you get more eager to go home and confirm whether you can truly save your sister’s life or not. You can’t help but impatiently shift on your legs and toggle with your fingers, which earns you a tongue click and an eye roll.

“Just go already.”

You give him a nod and a last warm smile, contrasting his stony glare. With unabashed eagerness, you burst out of the door and walk out.

As you distance yourself from the hideout, you think back at the way Levi eyed you, observed you. Anyone would get excited after getting such money, but what if you got a little too excited there? He’s sharp; what if he suspects something and starts following you?

You stop in your tracks and keep an eye on the hideout for a bit. You wait behind a corner, anticipating the door to open up.

Except it doesn’t.

With a little smile, you turn around and walk home, pocket heavy with a bag of hope.

Chapter Text

The bags in the pockets of your cape feel heavy as you march your way towards your sister’s home. Never have you been this acutely aware of something laying in your pockets, and you can’t help but anxiously clamp at the bags every few seconds to make sure all the money is still there. You try to keep your pace steady and casual for subtlety, but this is proving to be difficult. You're too overwhelmed by all the emotions storming inside of you. Disbelief, excitement, anticipation, relief, and fear. 

Fear of things going wrong right at the finish line. After all, it is surprisingly terrifying to walk around with the key to Luna’s life. Maybe it is another form of disbelief, a feeling that this can’t possibly be happening, that things must go wrong at one point. 

The moment you counted the money at home, confirming that you had just enough to save Luna’s life, you were frozen in shock. Then, you counted again.

And again.

And again. 

It’s like you couldn’t believe it, and to be fair, you still can’t.

You slip your hands in your pockets, probably for the hundredth damn time, and you feel that familiar wave of relief. Everything is still there. Everything will be okay.

You’re heavily aware of every part of your surroundings. The sound of your shoes on the cobblestone, or on water whenever you’re stepping in dirty puddles of God knows what. The children in your vicinity, some sitting somberly on the ground, others running around you closer than you’d like. The sea of conversations around you. The citizens wandering in all directions, paying you no mind, though you seem to make more eye contact with strangers than you’d like. 

Never in your life have you been this afraid of getting pickpocketed. At this moment, you’re carrying an irreplaceable treasure, and everyone around you is a potential enemy. And while you should look as inconspicuous as possible, you can’t help but keep an eye on everyone surrounding you. 

Your heart skips a beat when a middle-aged man looks at you, making direct eye contact, before glancing down to where your pockets are. The bags in your pockets are so big they’re slightly visible from the outside, and you don’t like the way he’s looking at them one bit. 

Deciding the crowd around you is more dangerous and suffocating than it is safe, you redirect your route towards a less crowded area. 

That is, until someone bumps into you.

You gasp and in one quick move, you blindly reach for the person’s arm. The next moment, you’re looking straight into a pair of scared, hazel eyes. It takes you a second to realize they belong to a child who must be no older than ten years old. He blinks at you, looking horrified while you’re holding onto his small arm in a vice-like grip. 

“I-I’m sorry i-it was an accident—” he stutters.

You narrow your eyes and quickly reach for your pockets, only to feel everything is still there. An anxious sigh leaves your lips, exposing the level of fear and relief that is storming within you.

“Sorry about that,” you mutter under your breath as you let his little arm go, your heart still beating uncomfortably fast in your chest.

The little boy gives you one last horrified look, before quickly turning around and running away from you. When you look up, you notice some people are looking at you strangely, which drastically increases your discomfort. At this, you decide you truly can’t stay in crowded places any longer, and you dart into the more abandoned neighborhoods of the city.

You do as you always do whenever you go to Luna’s house: taking detours, stopping to hear if anyone is following you, taking unconventional routes by climbing over fences, and so on.

Usually, a little rational voice inside of you tells you that you’re being obsessively cautious. That you need to let go of that constant fear of getting followed and discovered. That nobody is after you: neither someone who uncovered your family secret — because nobody knows — neither the brutes you’ve targeted in the past, because they’re way too dense and too impatient to track you down anyway.

Now, however, you find your overly cautious behavior to be very justified, and you take an even more difficult route than you usually do.  

It’s only when you finally arrive and see the familiar sight of your sister’s home, that you let out a deep sigh of relief, your shoulders slowly relaxing. Your heart is still beating faster than it should, but now it is rather from excitement than from fear.

You swallow in anticipation as you walk towards the door. You want to see her smile, you want her to scream in happiness and disbelief like you did. You want to finally tell her she’s going to live, that she won’t have to leave you and Finn behind, that she won’t have to leave anything behind, that she doesn’t need to be afraid anymore.

You want to finally hold her and tell her she’s going to be okay, without feeling that painful lump in your throat because it is a promise you can’t make.

After confirming one last time that all the money is still safely in your pockets, you knock, fingers slightly trembling in anticipation.

You wait, but the door doesn’t open up. 

An uneasy feeling starts to swell inside of you, but you try to push it away. With a frown, you knock again.

When you finally hear someone walking to the door, you sigh in relief, the smile on your face returning. 

But that immediately fades away the moment Finn opens the door. 

He’s in a state you’ve never seen before. His eyes are red and swollen, there are tears on his cheeks, his hair looks disheveled, and he has lost even more weight since last time.

Your heart freezes in your chest, and a deeply uneasy feeling starts to form in your stomach.

“F-Finn? What’s the matter? You alright?” you manage to ask with a strained voice, your throat tightening uncomfortably.

He swallows. “I-…” but it seems like he can’t push out the words, like he has been crying so much he can’t speak anymore.

The dizziness hits you first. 

Then, a feeling in your chest. It becomes cramped, heavy, so tight you feel like you can’t breathe. 

Then it hits you.

No.

No. No. No.

You gasp, and the next moment, you’re stalking past Finn. He weakly calls for you, but you barely hear him as you rush through the house towards Luna’s room, head hazy and body nauseous.

You don’t knock. You storm inside, heart hammering in your chest.

The only thing you can do is swallow thickly as you stare at her with widened eyes. 

She’s lying in her bed, unmoving.

“Luna?” you barely manage to whisper.

She’s almost unrecognizable. Boney and lifeless.

Your blood runs cold. It feels like your chest is slowly getting crushed. 

“…Lulu?” you try again, voice weak as you slowly approach her.

But this is only met with silence.

You vaguely hear Finn calling for you, but it’s merely background noise, watered down by the suffocating realization as you stare at your sister. You don’t feel your surroundings anymore. The air is unbreathable, your legs feel like they’re about to collapse. 

“Lulu,” you try once more, hopeless this time. “Please, please answer me.” 

It’s only when you feel salt on your lips that you realize you’re crying.

Then, everything within you shatters.

With a panting chest, you rush to her bed and wrap your arms around her, your face buried in her shoulder. “Lulu, not now, ” you sob, fingers desperately clinging onto her, “don’t leave me now, please—”  

“W-What the fuck?”

You gasp and snap back, and suddenly, you’re staring straight in your sister’s sleepy and confused face.

Her eyes are lidded, tired, and hazy. She’s looking at you, seeming completely lost.

After a few seconds of shock, you cry out her name and wrap your arms around her again, holding her tighter than you ever have before. 

Her slightly trembling hand starts to caress your hair, while her other softly strokes your back. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” she hushes with a soft voice. “Are you okay? What happened?” she mumbles worriedly in your hair, her voice weak and sleepy.

You don’t have the energy or the strength to respond. All you can do is sob on her shoulder as you’re holding onto her, taking in the rhythm of her soft breathing. 

A rhythm you thought was gone for eternity.

“Finn? What happened?” you hear her asking in the direction of the door.

“I—I don’t know. I opened the door and she just stormed in,” he explains, his voice still as hoarse as before.

“Why the fuck were you crying Finn?” you sob against the wet fabric of Luna’s shirt.

“Geez, can’t a man cry in peace these days?” he retorts half-heartedly. 

You scoff against your sister’s shoulder, but the next moment, you feel Finn’s hand softly resting on your arm. “I’m so sorry,” he croaks, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he gives you a warm squeeze. “I really am. I didn’t mean to scare you. I know I should’ve said something immediately, but I wasn’t expecting any visitors, and I just... I—“ He stops, his words stuck in his throat.

You turn your head to look at him, and you’re sure your eyes look about as red as his now.

“It’s okay,” you mutter after taking a deep breath, your voice still unsteady. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I guess I wouldn’t be able to answer questions in this state either.”

Finn gives you a pained smile. You understand each other all too well right now.

“Finn, could you please open the window? She needs fresh air,” Luna tells him as she keeps caressing your hair. You take a deep breath as you drown in her comforting touch, listening to the soft beating of her heart. A constant reminder that she’s still alive, that you’re not too late. That you haven’t lost her. Not yet.

“I thought the worst had happened,” you start with a strained voice after Finn opens the window and returns to sit next to Luna, “You were asleep, but I thought—“

You swallow the words, unable to say them out loud, and not daring to.

Finn looks down. There’s a moment of silence. Painful silence.

Luna breaks the hug and brings her hands to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. Her fingers are ice cold, and they’re trembling slightly. There’s a fog of deep pain in her eyes, one that she's clearly trying to hide, one she has been trying to hide for weeks, but that is now seeping its way through her mask nonetheless.

“Truth is, I’m not doing well,” she begins, her voice labored as she gently caresses your cheeks with her thumbs. “I don’t have much time left. I—…” her eyes trail downwards, visibly watering. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” you shake your head vividly, suddenly remembering why you’re here in the first place. “You’re going to be okay.” 

She looks up at you again, and something in her expression breaks. Never have you uttered words that seemed to cause her so much grief and pain as now.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathes again, her voice cracking, “I need you to stay strong for me, alright? I want you to take care of yourself, and surround yourself with people, and—“

“No, I mean—“ you interrupt, gently bringing her hands down from your face, “I meant you’re actually going to be okay. That’s why I came here, to tell you that.”

Luna frowns, searching in your eyes for answers.

“W-what do you mean?” Finn stammers next to you, eyes widened.

With a deep breath, you take this as your cue to reach for your pockets.

“Don’t get a heart attack,” you warn as you glance at Luna and Finn.

They both exchange a look, seeming equally lost. Then, you take the bags and lay them out.

“What is that?” Luna asks warily as she stares down at them.

A weak smile forms on your face as you take a shuddering breath. “You’re going to go to the hospital, Lulu.”

“Wait... what?” 

“What on earth are you talking about?”

You chuckle, the sound hoarse due to all the crying. “Look inside.” 

They both cautiously share a glance before each grabbing a bag, slowly opening them.

The reaction is instant. Both their eyes widen at the same time as they stare at the contents, slack-jawed. 

The silence that follows is one of pure shock.

It is then, when you look at them trying to process what they’re seeing and hearing, that it truly hits you. That what has felt like an endless nightmare is finally over. 

You reach for your sister’s face and gently cup her cheeks this time, turning her to you. She stares at you, shocked and confused, clearly unable to process what is happening.

“You’re going to live, Lulu,” you bore into her, not leaving her eyes for a second. “You’re not going to die. You’re going to get that fucking treatment, you hear me?” 

Her entire body is frozen in place, but you don’t stop. “You don’t need to be afraid anymore,” you whisper. “You will be okay. Everything will be okay.”

She's staring at you in shock, eyes widened, unmoving.

Then, something in her expression shatters.

Everything she’s been trying to hide so desperately during all those weeks reaches the surface at once. All the fear, the despair, the crushing sadness and hopelessness, it all becomes visible on her features. The mask she has been wearing to remain strong around you and Finn for so long is finally cracking. 

Your chest tightens painfully at the sight. You finally see before your own eyes how much she has been keeping to herself, just to shield you both from more misery and pain.

“I'm... I’m not going to die?” she stutters, her voice so soft it could’ve been a whisper.

You’ve never seen or heard her so vulnerable before. Her breathing is irregular and her eyes are watering, and before you know it, warm tears are rolling down your own cheeks as well.

“No, you’re not,” you respond, shaking your head in emphasis. “You will be okay. Everything will be alright.” 

From one moment to the other, she breaks down in tears. You wrap your arms around her as she practically collapses against you. You hold her against your chest, caressing her back and whispering the words over and over again. That she will be alright, that she will live, that she doesn’t need to be afraid anymore.

She’s trembling in your arms, crying and weakly clasping onto your shirt as the fabric gets covered with her tears.

When you hear Finn sob too, you can’t help but let out a miserable laugh. “So we’re all crying now, huh?” 

Finn snorts while wiping a tear off his cheeks, but before he can respond, you pull him into the hug. 

The three of you are holding onto each other, sobbing, laughing, making dumb jokes, just to fall into another crying fit again. Your heart is filled with emotions you can’t even begin to make sense of. Completely overwhelming, but so relieving at the same time. For the first time in months, you feel safe, like nothing can hurt you anymore.

When the three of you finally calm down, Luna breaks the hug and swallows thickly while sitting back. “How did you do it? How could you possibly…?“

“You know me, I’m a pretty decent thief,” you shrug.

“I know that, but I also know you can’t get this from regular citizens, not even merchants.” Her brows furrow in worry. “What kind of people did you rob? Are you in trouble?”

“No, no, don’t worry,” you reassure, “I’m okay, really.” 

“Please be honest with me,” she murmurs, lines of concern tracing her face. “I didn’t pry last time you came, but now that I’m looking at everything you managed to steal… I know you must’ve risked your life for this.”

You sigh, knowing full well she won’t let you get away with waving her off this time. “I sabotaged some big trades, that’s all.”

She looks at you with widened eyes. “What kind of trades?”

“You know… food, drugs, all that.” 

She narrows her eyes. “Alone?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how you should proceed with this conversation without worrying her. Targeting the most skilled gang of thieves in the city is quite the suicide mission, but saying you got all this money on your own is unrealistic.

“Sort of,” you mumble.

She crosses her arms with a raised brow. “Unsatisfactory answer. Elaborate.”

You can’t help but grin at her attempt to be authoritative. “Ordering me about now are we?”

Luna slaps your arm with the back of her hand. “I’m being serious,” she scowls. “You won’t get away with this by joking around. I’m worried about you, I don’t want you to be in danger because of me.”

You sigh in defeat. “I was alone, but I spied on a gang to get the information about the big trades in the city.”

She quips a brow. “You sabotaged their robberies, didn’t you?”

“… Maybe.”

Her eyes widen in horror. “That’s dangerous! They’ll definitely be on the hunt for you!”

“You know what else is dangerous? You not getting treatment in time.”

Secretly, you've missed being petty with her.

Luna rolls her eyes, before going back to her serious expression again. “What if they come for you?” she argues, her voice laced with worry.

They already have.

“They haven’t and they won’t,” you lie. “You know how absurdly careful I am, there’s nothing to worry about.”

You wish you could tell the truth, but her being in a decent mental state is crucial right now, you can’t take any risks regarding her health. If you admit you’re now working for the gang you targeted, she will be worried sick and believe you’re being held hostage. 

Which you sort of are, but that’s beside the point.

Luna is clearly not convinced. Her brows are still furrowed, and she’s biting her lip in anguish. She glances at Finn, who is looking equally as concerned.

“Hey, hey,” you interrupt, which brings both their attentions back to you. “I need you both to trust me. I’m okay and safe, I promise. I’m still standing here, aren’t I? If I had fucked up, I wouldn’t be. I'm not in any danger, I know what I’m doing.”

After a moment of tense silence and shared glances, Luna sighs in defeat. “Alright, but promise me that if you get in trouble, you’ll let us know immediately. Don't ever keep those sorts of things to yourself.”

“And stay low for a while, alright?” Finn adds, worry apparent in his voice.

“I will, don’t worry,” you smile, though you’re not sure to which extent your words hold any truth. 

“You better,” your sister mumbles under her breath.

You chuckle, but you quickly turn serious as you realize you have absolutely no time to waste. Things are looking good now, but that scare from earlier has reminded you how fast the clock is ticking.

“Listen,” you start, “I’m going to get the doctor now, and after he has examined you again, we’ll ask for a carriage to bring you to the hospital immediately, alright?”

Luna cracks the biggest smile you’ve ever seen and wraps her arms around you once more. “Thank you so much,” she whispers in your ear, “for all of this.”

You huff softly. “You think I’d just watch my little sister go? I’d go through hell and back for you. You know that.”

Her arms tighten around you. “You’re insane.” 

You smile against her shoulder before glancing at Finn to make sure he’s alright.

And oh, he is. 

Because for the first time in a long while, his eyes are gleaming with hope.

..........

The moment the front door shuts behind you, Levi’s eyes snap to his cape.

Then, to the door.

Then back to his cape again.

That smile of yours, it was too ridiculous. Levi can feel it deep inside his gut, there’s definitely more going on than you let out to be. 

He gave you a large sum of money. An excessively large sum, even. And as much as he doesn’t like to admit it, he partly did so because he was worried about you, knowing you most likely needed the money as soon as possible. But the main reason — or at least, the reason he rationalizes giving you such an excessive amount — was to find out what on earth you’re hiding.

And Levi has a strong hunch his plan worked. The way you were beaming, it can only mean he gave you enough to pay back your debt, or whatever the fuck it is you need money for. And now, maybe, he might finally figure out what is going on.

Without hesitating a second longer, he grabs his cape and puts his hood on, before crawling out through the back window. He easily hauls himself up on the roof and crouches down, staying as silent as he can manage. With steps as noiseless as a feather, he slinks forward until he can take a discrete glare over the building of the hideout.

Surely enough, he immediately recognizes a familiar figure standing at the corner of the opposite building. You’re partly hidden, suspiciously eyeing the hideout's door.

Levi carefully retreats before you have the chance to notice him, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. Of course you would have suspicions he would follow you. While a part of him is suppressing an eye roll, another part of him is alarmed.

Because if this doesn’t confirm you’re hiding something, and that you’re about to do something you don’t want him to see, then what the fuck does?

Levi strains his ears, not daring to take another peek but hoping he will hear you walk away when you do.

When he hears the soft sound of shoes tapping against the cobblestone, he finally dares to cast a glance. Surely enough, the back of your black cape is facing him as you finally walk away.

Maintaining a crouched position, he gets on his feet and hops from building to building as quietly as he can manage.

He normally feels at ease following people, knowing that stealth is not something he has ever struggled with. But with you, it’s different. Levi has seen enough to know you’re careful, extremely careful, and that you’re way too sharp for his liking. It’s frustrating, but also intriguing, and he would lie if he said he didn’t like the challenge sometimes. However, he doesn’t let this small enjoyable sense of thrill get to his head. He’s not going to underestimate you again. He has learned his lesson by now.

While Levi follows you around, he wonders why the absolute fuck you’re always doing this. Taking unnecessary detours, catching cautious glances around you, opting for difficult routes that make it an absolute pain in the ass to follow you without getting caught. The amount of times he has to duck behind chimneys to hide, or crawl off a building because the next one is too far out of reach, makes him want to claw his damn hair out.

But he remains patient, because the reward can only be sweet.

What on earth must you be hiding to be so inherently careful? It’s like it’s been ingrained into you, drilled into your brain, that infinite guardedness. Maybe you’re just good at assessing dangers, but what dangers are you dealing with now? When you were still targeting Levi’s gang, it made sense to him. It was a damn nuisance to track you down, but it made sense. But now? Levi knows better than anyone how it is to be surrounded by people who want nothing more than his blood, but he knows there must be more to it. He feels it in every part of his bones.

And that is exactly what has made it nearly impossible for him to trust you. It is exactly that voice, telling him you’re nothing but a liar, that has convinced him to push his knife against your throat multiple times. It is one of the many things that has fed his resentment towards you. A resentment that is unfortunately disappearing, against his better judgment. 

When you nearly arrive home, Levi rolls his eyes so hard it could probably get stuck at the back of his skull. You’re doing that fucking thing again. Climbing up one of your neighbor’s homes and surveilling the entire perimeter around your house. It is tactical, Levi has to give you that, anyone else following you would probably either not notice your move and get caught red-handed, or they would not have the patience to stay hidden and eventually get caught by you either way.

But why? Levi doesn’t know whether this means you’re in serious danger, or whether this means you’re involved in some shady business, being not at all the person you claim to be. Or maybe, something bad happened in your past that ingrained cautiousness into you? 

Should he be concerned about your safety, or are you the source of danger? Should he build a cautious wall around himself again and drag you out of here to interrogate you, until you finally cave? Or should he keep the patient game he has been playing all this time to figure you out? Are you an enemy, or an ally?

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t fucking know, and it’s incredibly frustrating, particularly because he has already opened up to you ever so slightly, as much as he has advised his own self against it.

Levi’s cramped position is getting uncomfortable, but he doesn’t cave. You don’t, so he certainly won’t. Instead, he remains patient, crouched down and out of sight.

When you finally enter your home after approximately three billion fucking years — through the apartment you don’t actually reside in, of course — Levi lets out a deep sigh of relief. He repositions himself to have a good view of your front door, hoping you will come out soon enough.

Because you have to, right? This can’t just be it? His instincts tell him there’s no way, so he decides to patiently wait it out. He doesn’t know for how long, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to let his guard down after that absurd smile of yours. He had never seen you this happy before, and your radiance almost made him uncomfortable. 

No — it definitely made him uncomfortable. It was almost infuriating, though he doesn’t know why he feels that way. Maybe it’s because your unexpected excitement was slightly intoxicating, and if there’s anything Levi does not want to happen, it’s to feel intoxicated by you.

Levi sighs, taking in the silence around him. You live in a quiet neighborhood, and a relatively safe one as far as he can tell. He allows himself to observe the few people wandering around, leaving or entering their homes. Some carrying bags of groceries, others empty-handed. Some looking relaxed and content, others looking grim and somber. 

But this minimal commotion isn’t nearly enough to distract him from his thoughts. 

He feels… 

In all honesty, he has no idea how he feels. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel to begin with. One part of him is exhilarated to finally uncover your motives, but another part of him feels a strange sense of dread.

Dread, because all his worst theories about you could very much be true. 

Your cautiousness. The fact nobody knows where you truly reside, not even your neighbors. Your weapons, a level of craft he has never seen before. The fact you planned your sabotages so well, calculating everything almost perfectly. The way you mapped out the whole network of underground tunnels on your own, redesigned the entire fucking perimeter with stacks of trash and crates. The mere fact you then managed to shake off six men hunting you down, including himself. 

The complete insanity of robbing a gang like his on your own.

It’s too sketchy. It has been feeding his curiosity since the start, but it has also been fueling his hatred. It reminds him of all the vile fuckheads in this city who have tried to challenge him and take him down. Something he can never and will never allow. Not until his ruthless instincts of survival die down, at least.

Ever since he met you, Levi has come up with several possible explanations for all this suspiciousness. The first one being that you’ve been recruited. There are all too many people who desperately want to take him and his group down, after all. Who cannot stand the idea of someone else having a reputation that surpasses theirs. Who have a pathetic, primitive urge to eliminate anyone at the top of the chain. Those people wouldn’t hesitate to pay a large sum and recruit someone who could stalk Levi’s group, reduce the amount of food on their plates, and cause chaos from within until nothing is left of it.

Levi has had to deal with those types of empty skulled pieces of trash for longer than he can remember, and he has always dealt with them accordingly, humbling them down or eliminating them entirely if they pose too much of a threat. Initially, he had every intention of doing the same with you, but as he has gotten to know you, his dedication to torment you and to make your fake façade crack has slowly been fading away. 

A second explanation could be that you’re a member of a gang he has targeted before. After all, Levi has never been scared of robbing a shitty group of scum if it’s going to bring food to the table. Particularly food for people he cares for. All in all, it isn’t implausible that your filthy stunts have been a gang’s attempt at retribution, an attempt at discretely getting the money back without getting directly in trouble with Levi, while pissing him the fuck off in the process. 

Of course, you could also have high-end connections; people at the top who are all but pleased by Levi’s heists and successful attempts at robbing them. It’s what he initially thought when he first saw your high-level weapons, but the little tour at your basement was quite convincing, so he has let that theory slide. It’s a bit far stretched either way, but not impossible.

Overall, the options are infinite, and the least probable one is that you’re telling the truth. That you’re doing all of this alone, without any motives besides being in debt. 

Yet, Levi can’t help but feel a slight sense of hope, and he hates it. It’s foolish to let his guard down. There are enough reasons not to trust you. Not to trust anyone, for that matter. However, you have shown signs of honesty he can’t ignore, and he truly doesn’t know what to think about you anymore. 

He was fully prepared at first, patiently waiting for the moment you’d accidentally reveal you’re nothing more than a spying rat, lying your teeth out. But the past few days, it is clear to Levi that the safe wall he had, that distance and angry distrust, has been weakening. You’ve been proving him wrong time after time. 

You could’ve easily given false information after your first spying mission, but you didn’t. Everything was correct to the minor detail, and in fact, you found more information than he had. This already changed his stance towards you, it gave him an impression you might be useful or trustworthy after all.  

But what had a bigger impact on him, was the mission after. You could’ve let Axon point his gun at him, yet, you risked your own damn life to save his, even though he had been threatening yours from the start. Cutting those damn fingers off to save him, he couldn’t fucking believe it. It was infuriating, really, the way you put yourself on the line for him while he treated you like pure garbage. That hint of selflessness, that instinct to save, and the slight guilt that slipped into his heart as a consequence. It was uncomfortable, frustrating even, because he couldn’t help but let that get under his skin. It resulted in a tear in his distrust, which was alarming and risky. Levi knows better than to trust people in this hellhole without knowing anything about them. Yet, a crack formed. And to this day, he still isn’t sure whether he lashed so hard onto you because your actions forced him to commit murders he didn’t want to commit, or whether it’s because you didn’t listen to him, although he knows your reaction was a mere reflex you couldn’t help, or whether it's because he was angry at himself for letting you get under his skin.

The cherry on top of the cake though, the one thing that pulled all his theories to shambles, is when your empathic nature came to light. He isn’t sure what he was expecting from you when he asked you to torture someone. He didn’t think you’d excitingly try to annihilate the guy, but he didn’t expect your reaction either: not putting one step into that house, and then proceeding to curse at Levi like no one else dares to these days. Your emotions were like a raging storm, a chaotic fury laced with sadness and devastation. He knows what lying and acting looks like, and that wasn’t it, at all.

There’s no fucking way. You can’t be part of some vicious group, working along with pathetic scum who want to cause him harm, right? You just seem like too much of a decent human being to be an ally to those types of people. 

At this point, he can't imagine you’re the scummy piece of shit he used to think you were.

… Right?

Levi stares at your familiar, wooden front door. He feels… strange. Not in a good way. He feels an odd sense of foreboding. Every part of him deeply hopes you’ll prove him wrong once more. He despises that slight trust and hope, that slight attachment. It is a dangerous fire to play with, but he can’t seem to put it out. And he’s not sure whether he’s glad or regretful that he has given you a chance to prove yourself. Because now, he’s in a compromising position.

If you turn out to be a significant threat, he will most likely have to remove you from the picture. He used to be fully prepared for that, but now, unfortunately, he has progressed past the point this would be an easy task to perform. 

Levi groans, frustration riddling his body. He should’ve kept holding onto that burning hate, it was much easier back then. It was tactical, and he knew that, but he supposes it was only a matter of time before that safe defense would fade away. Because unfortunately, the one he deemed to be a poisonous pest isn’t as dislikable as he’d hoped. And now, it might come back to bite him in the ass.

Levi is erupted out of his thoughts when your front door opens up. Finally.  

He tries to stay out of sight as much as possible, but dares to take a discrete peek. While doing so, he doesn’t miss the bulges protruding through your cape. If he has to guess, he’d say you have assembled all the money you’ve stolen, and you’re carrying all of it right now. This must mean he was correct, you are going to pay back whatever you owe. The way you cast nervous glances around you and fiddle in your pockets only seems to confirm this theory.

Levi’s heart is beating faster in his chest than before. He’s filled with anticipation, fear of finding out something he doesn’t want to find out, and mild anxiousness of you noticing him, since he doesn’t think he has ever seen you this alert and cautious before.  

The way to your new destination is even more of a pain in the ass than before. More of a pain than it has ever been, dare he say.

After a long trip of mental cursing, occasional eye rolls, and slight worry at how nervous and concerned you look, Levi finally arrives at a small house that seems to be your destination.

He observes you at a safe distance when the door opens up, revealing a young man who must be around his age. But even from afar, Levi can tell he isn’t in a good physical state. But before he has the time to further assess the situation, you storm inside, leaving the man hanging at the door, looking lost and confused. 

Levi furrows his brows. That was… a weird reaction. Especially if the people in this residence are supposed to be people you’re in trouble with. 

So you might have lied after all.

When the door shuts, Levi slips his hand into his pocket and grabs his knife. He approaches the house, making sure he’s out of sight from any windows. While making a discrete tour around the building, he looks up to see if there are any entrances he could crawl through or eavesdrop from.

But his thoughts are quickly interrupted when a window a couple of footsteps away from him opens up.

Clasping his knife, he slinks towards it and crouches down, holding his back against the wall.  

Levi recognizes your voice immediately, but the vulnerability in it is completely foreign to him, making all muscles in his body tense up.

“I thought the worst had happened. You were asleep, but I thought—“ you mutter, voice shaking. Levi can tell you’ve been crying. He has heard that same shake in your voice before, when you teared up in front of him when he interrogated you, and it raises a similar feeling inside of him now. He can’t help but clasp his knife a little harder, wondering what the fuck is going on. 

A silence follows, which only increases the tense feeling in his shoulders.

“Truth is, I’m not doing well,” a soft, unfamiliar voice responds. “I don’t have much time left. I—… I’m so sorry.” 

Levi swallows thickly, the puzzle pieces starting to come together.

“No. You’re going to be okay.” 

His chest feels tight. It all feels so painfully familiar. 

Why does this feel so familiar?

“I’m so sorry,” the other woman responds, “I need you to stay strong for me, alright? I want you to take care of yourself, and surround yourself with people—”

At that moment, Levi slips away from reality and tumbles down into the depths of his past. He sees his own mother whispering those same words, with that same trembling voice, devoid of all energy that was once coursing through her veins. He can feel the fabric of her bedsheet under his own fingers, small and desperate, asking her if she’s going to be okay. Saying she’s going to be okay, the same way you just did. 

But he was too young to fully understand that she wasn’t, and that there was nothing he could do.

“You’re going to go to the hospital, Lulu,” your voice interrupts his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. “You’re going to live. You’re not going to die. You’re going to get that fucking treatment, you hear me?” 

Levi shuts his eyes, tilting his head back on the wall with a clenched jaw. 

It hits him, the reality of it all. The truth behind your motive.

He almost feels nauseous.

If only he had known. 

If he had known this is what you needed the money for, he would’ve never worked against you. It pains him much more than he’d like, the fact you’re in a similar position as his own two decades ago. 

A loss that has haunted him ever since. Images that will never leave his mind. Regret, even though there’s nothing he could’ve done.

He doesn’t know who this Lulu is to you, maybe a friend or a family member, but he can hear in your voice that she means the world to you. The fact you risked your life the way you did is proof enough of that.

Levi listens to the three voices in the room. The sobs, the pained voices, the laughs, the way you try to hide how you managed to get your hands on such a large sum of money.

During the entire conversation, Levi tries to repress his own painful memories, while also attempting to shake a panging feeling of guilt away. An angry voice asking him why the fuck he hadn’t thought about this. He had stretched his fucking neck to come up with all sorts of possible theories about you, but never once did it cross his mind that your motives could be pure. He naturally expects the worst from people, life has left him no choice but to gain this trait, but the fact this could’ve costed the life of someone dear to you makes him feel terrible. More so because this situation hits so close to home.

“You think I’d just watch my little sister go?” you finally murmur, “I’d go through hell and back for you, you know that.”

Your sister. 

The last of his question answered. 

Levi continues to listen, unable to move, like he’s stuck in place.

It's only when it’s all over and you leave the house to go fetch a doctor, that Levi is able to stand up again. He takes a deep breath, deciding he should leave this place as fast as possible. 

He’s lost in thought as he walks back home to the hideout. He’s filled with emotions he can barely make sense of, but he can’t seem to find the will to repress them. It’s been a long time since he has let something get to his heart. Usually, he closes himself off from anything and anyone that can stir unwanted emotions in him, having felt enough of those in the past. But now, he can’t help it. He thinks about his mother again, and the despair when everything went to hell. He thinks about you and your sister, and the level of desperation in your own voices.

He feels guilty for hating you the way he did. For putting you under terrible pressure in hopes you’d crack and show your true colors. He supposes it could’ve been worse, though. He was quite mild to you compared to many others who have tried to fuck him over in the past. Still, it bothers him, that he added to your misery while your motives were entirely in the right place. Because if he could’ve done the same thing for his mother, he would’ve done it a thousand times over without hesitating.

He supposes he had his own reasons for despising you the way he did, though. It wasn’t just a tactical way to keep you at a safe distance of distrust, he was also genuinely angry. He had sacrificed endless nights of sleep to organize heists with the highest possible yield. He did so in hopes that Jan could pay for the medicine he desperately needs, since he is losing function in his legs. He did it for Kai, whose sick mother needs constant care. He did it for the whole group in general, who counts on Levi and trusts him indefinitely to bring food to the table. It had been a while since he had managed to put his hands on such big trades, but there you were, ruining it all. 

It still makes his blood boil when he thinks about it. The disappointment in his men’s faces when the total revenue was halved. Their wounds, as small as they were, left behind by your infuriating little traps in the underground tunnels. The fact they trusted him to handle you, but you managed to slip right through his fingers multiple times nonetheless. God he could’ve fucking murdered you.

And of course, it didn’t help that his first introduction to you was when you almost cut his damn head off. It didn’t particularly sit well with him. It’s not like he has ever let anyone get away after a murder attempt. He’d be long dead if that was something he’d ever allow.

He was hungry for revenge, aching to put an end to you and everyone behind the sabotages.

Except there was no one else behind this. Just you, and your ridiculous determination.

And quite frankly, the absolute fucking nerve to take an entire group on your own is admiring. And the fact you did it to save someone you love is even more respectable. 

Levi is battling with many emotions. The memory of the unrest and disappointment in his group, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. On the flip side, there’s the realization that your motives were justified and respectable, making him want to keep you safe.

He can’t place what he feels when he thinks about you anymore. Guilt? Intrigue? Anger? Empathy? Annoyance? Admiration?

Everything at once, probably. And it doesn’t help that the interactions between you two have been real damn contradictory. Boiling hatred, saving each other's lives, your scandalous moan when—

Levi shuts his eyes in annoyance. Let’s not go there, not again.

He brushes the memories away before they can pester his brain again, and decides to increase his marching pace instead. Going home and drinking a cup of tea might stop his thoughts from driving him insane.

When he opens the door of the hideout, he’s relieved to see Furlan sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea while reading a book. 

The blond looks up and gives a warm greeting while Levi closes the door behind himself. 

“You’re back.” Levi notes, “How’d the shopping go?”

“Pretty good,” Furlan says with a shrug, “I took Kai with me. We mostly stacked up on soup, crackers and potatoes. We should be good for the next week.” 

Levi inhales deeply as he approaches Furlan, his senses filling with a pleasant, sweet smell. “And some new tea apparently?”

The blond chuckles. “Oh, yeah. Kai couldn’t help himself again, robbed a tea merchant along the way, said this is for you,” he explains, pointing at the little box of tea sitting next to him. 

Levi’s lips twitch in amusement. “The sneaky little shit,” he murmurs as he grabs the tin box. He observes it with a frown. “Lavender, chamomile, and lime flower? Sounds pretty damn expensive.”

Furlan snorts. “Yeah, Kai really went all in. That merchant was not happy to say the least. I had to pretend I didn’t know him when he ran away.”

Levi is unable to retain a smile. He isn’t emotionally close to anyone in the gang besides Furlan, but he can’t deny Kai holds a special place in his heart. The boy is the youngest of the group, and simultaneously the sneakiest and most mischievous one. And for some reason, he never stops wanting to give back to Levi, which always earns the boy a head pat, followed by a scolding speech about how he really doesn’t need to do that. But Levi supposes Kai is just being grateful, since he brought him in the gang when he knew the boy desperately needed it.

Furlan points at the pot on the stove. “The water is still hot, I boiled it right before you arrived.”

Levi hums and grabs a mug, pouring himself a cup.

“Since you’re back too, I assume she finished her mission?” Furlan notes as he takes a sip.

“Yeah. Went well, she stabbed one of them straight in the fucking balls.” 

Furlan chokes on his tea, and Levi has trouble holding back his amusement as the man coughs the entirety of his lungs out.

Levi sits down next to his friend and reaches for the box of tea. “She nearly sliced my head off during our first encounter, you shouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I guess,” Furlan mumbles as he tries to recover from the coughing massacre he just endured. “Did she kill them?”

Levi shakes his head. “Though that probably would’ve been more merciful.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really want that to happen to me. Maybe you were right after all, I guess I should be warier of her.”

Levi takes a sip of tea, relishing the soothing taste, while thinking Furlan’s words through.

After a moment of silence, he makes up his mind. “I think we can trust her after all.”

The blond furrows his brows. “What? Why the change of thought? You always said I had to keep my guards up instead of advocating for her.”  

“I changed my opinion.” Levi shrugs.

“What happened?”

Levi licks his lips, unsure of how much he should reveal. You had kept your sister a secret, probably to keep her safe. And while he trusts Furlan and highly doubts he’d ever use or spread this information against you, Levi knows it isn’t his place to share your personal information. 

“I found out what her motives were,” he explains after taking another sip. “She needed the money for personal reasons, and very valid reasons at that. So forget about all the assumptions I made about her.”

Furlan holds Levi’s stare, clearly hoping he will reveal more, but Levi ignores him.

After a few moments, Furlan sighs, letting the lingering questions on his tongue go. “Alright, I’ll trust you on that.”

For a long while, a comfortable silence engulfs the room as they both savor their tea.

Levi is lost in thought entirely, and once his cup is empty, he takes out his knife and brings his attention to that instead. He stares at the sharp spotless blade while twirling it around, thinking about the events of today. 

“I can’t help but feel like she’s still hiding something,” he finally says, breaking the silence.

Furlan quips a brow. “Why?”

“I’m not sure, I can’t pinpoint it. Her excessive cautiousness, probably,” Levi murmurs as he absent-mindedly plays with his knife. “But I feel like at this point, it isn’t any of my business anymore. I know she isn’t a threat to us. That’s all I need to know.” 

Furlan hums. “So you trust her?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” Levi finally says, glancing at Furlan. “I think so.”

Chapter Text

It’s been a week since Luna was brought to the hospital, though it feels like the emotional farewell happened yesterday.

It’s also been a week since a letter was slipped under your door, one that simultaneously made you feel dreadful and relieved. 

Dreadful, because the short message stated you were given a week off before having to meet the gang at the hideout. Quite frankly, the mere thought of getting to know Levi’s boys was, and still is, absolutely fucking horrifying.

Relieved, because at least you were given some free time, which you highly needed. Also, a new source of income is very much welcome too, considering paying for Luna’s treatment has left you broke as shit.

But your time off has flown by much faster than you’d hoped, and today is unfortunately doomsday. As expected, all you’re left with is anxiousness and the dreading realization that you’re actually going to be part of the gang now.

The meeting is at four o’clock. You could just wait it out at home, but considering you’ve been in a constant state of nearly biting your damn hands off from the nerves, you decide to grab Finn and drag him to Gary’s bar, in hopes that the two men will distract you enough.

It’s working.

Sort of.

While you’re waiting until four o’clock hits, the three of you are chatting and relaxing. Although 'relaxing' may not exactly be the right term in your case.

“Care to tell us why you’re generating a whole earthquake in my damn bar?”

You pause, looking from Gary down to your leg.

Oh.

You finally stop it from anxiously shaking on the footrest of the barstool, but not before Finn catches it too.

“So you were making the glasses clink. Thought the whole Underground was about to collapse,” he mutters, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oops,” you wince at both of them, “My bad. Didn’t notice.”

Gary puts down the beer cup he’s cleaning and leans forward on the bar counter. “Why so nervous, kid?”

“I’m not.”

“Right,” he grumbles. “Whose ass do I need to beat? Is it a man?”

You snort into laughter, and proceed to give Gary’s bald head a little pat. “No, but I appreciate the thought.”

“Wait, you aren’t in trouble, are you?” Finn asks, brows furrowed. He’s sitting next to you, holding a glass of beer and casting you a suspicious glance.

“Finn, I love you, but for the gazillionth time, no,” you sigh. “Can’t a girl just be energetic?”

“Nope.”

“Not really.”

You give them both an eye roll, though it’s hard to repress a smile. “Oh, come on you two.”

Finn doesn’t look impressed by your attempt to push his question away. Instead, he turns on his stool to give you a better look while narrowing his eyes. “You better confess.”

“Gary, give the man some relaxing tea please,” you groan, which earns you an unimpressed look from Finn.

“Yes ma’am. I’ll give you one too, seems like you need it.”

“Hot water is fine,” you tell Gary with a dismissive wave, “Way too expensive, and I’m out of cash. Also, you’ve already been generous enough.”

“Sorry, didn’t hear you.” Before you can retort, Gary turns around and opens one of the cabinets behind the bar counter, displaying a few tea boxes. He hovers his fingers over his collection until he finds a flavor he’s satisfied with. When he turns to you, a pleased smile is plastered on his face. “This'll do the trick, it’s on the house, so don’t you dare pay it back.”

“I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” you mumble as you take the tin box and quirk the lid open. Taking a deep breath, you let the smell of rose petals and elderflower fill your lungs.

After Gary is done preparing two cups of tea and handing them over to you and Finn, he leans forward on the counter again, lifting a brow.

“So?”

You sigh in defeat, knowing neither of them is planning to let this go. “I’m going to hang out with some new friends, that’s all.”

“You? Friends?” Gary utters as he shares a knowing look with Finn. They both stare at each other in confusion, which earns them a slap on the shoulders by the back of your hand.

“Oh shut up, I’ve made many friends in this bar.”

“Acting like an imbecile on drunken nights and making buddies for a couple of hours, then never talking to them again, does not count,” says Gary.

An amused huff escapes you. “Agree to disagree.”

“You still haven’t explained why you’re so nervous,” Finn pushes as he watches you over his cup.

You shrug. “Because making new friends is scary.”

Both men hum in agreement as they contemplate your words.

“I’m proud of you kiddo,” Gary says after a moment of silence “I mean, for getting out there and leaving your comfort zone. But be careful alright? People are trash.”

“Yeah,” you hum absent-mindedly as you take another sip of tea. “They are, indeed.”

After a moment of comfortable quietness, the conversation topic goes back to Luna. Though you’ve never told Gary much about her, he seems genuinely relieved when Finn tells him you both received a letter from her this week. In the letter, she explained that she safely arrived at the hospital and is undergoing treatment. The doctors told her that it was a close call, but that she should be alright now.

While Finn briefly updates Gary on the situation – leaving out major details such as the treatment costs, of course – you can’t help but smile as you look at him. It’s only been a week since his days have finally been filled with hope instead of despair, and it shows. His skin has regained some color, his cheeks are fuller, his expressions are livelier, and his eyes almost spark the way they used to. He doesn’t even complain anymore whenever you drag him outside, something you’ve been doing in your free days to help him get back on his feet. After all, you know all too well how it is to fall in the pits of self-isolation.

During your free days, you shamelessly used the money Finn spared for Luna to buy a wide variety of nutritious foods, figuring that his body truly needed it after all the emotional and physical turmoil he went through. Your days consisted of cooking, doing groceries (on his cost), and giving him company.

But on second thought, all those efforts might not only have been for him, but also partly for yourself. An attempt to distract yourself from the inevitable.

The inevitable being what you’re about to do now.

“Alright, I have to go,” you announce with a sigh as you begrudgingly get up. “I’ll let you guys know if I survive the whole ‘socializing’ thing.”

Gary doesn’t even bother to hide his amusement. “Good luck kid, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Was about time you make some friends anyway. And if they’re dicks, I can always help you put them back in their places.”

“Oh I’m sure you can,” you chuckle, granting both your friends a wave as you turn towards the door. “Farewell friends,” you call out dramatically behind you. “If I never reappear again, it’s because I died of embarrassment or awkwardness.”

Just before you walk out, Finn throws you a last “Have fun!”, but he sounds just as amused as Gary.

While heading to the hideout, all you can do is curse mentally at your situation. Have you ever gone there without feeling utterly dreadful? Probably not.

Gary and Finn were spot on: you haven’t attempted to create new real bonds with people in forever, which makes this whole thing even more nerve-wracking. Loneliness and partial social isolation have more or less been the standard for many years, so you have absolutely no clue how the hell you’re supposed to integrate into a new group of people. Especially in a group that sees you, or used to see you, as an enemy.

How are you supposed to trust them, or feel comfortable around them? A shudder runs over your back as you remember the two gang members who cornered you and craved for blood and vengeance. Their menacing words ring in your ears again, and it’s not helping the situation. It’s already hard enough to lower your guards around people. Your parents always told you to never trust anyone entirely, and even they got snitched to the MP’s. There’s no way you can trust a group of bandits who probably hold a grudge against you. How can this possibly end well?

When you approach the hideout, a soft melody fills the air around you. You don’t even need to check to know which gang member is singing and playing the guitar, particularly because this isn’t the first time you’re hearing the song being played.

The sound itself is pleasant.

The feeling it evokes in you, is not.

At your final turn, you wait behind the corner, back held tightly against the cold brick wall. Closing your eyes, you listen to all the chatter coming from the hideout. Except for the words the guitarist is singing, it’s hard to make out what anyone is saying. All you know is that the longer you listen to all the noise, the harder your anxiety gnaws at your stomach.

Taking a deep breath, you dare to take a peep around the corner.

Fuck.

An entire group – of around ten people probably – is scattered around the stairs leading to the hideout. Some are standing or sitting next to the stairs. Others are on it, trailing all the way to the front door.

Holy fucking Hell. 

How on earth are you even supposed to approach a horde like this?

You shut your eyes again, telling yourself that you’re not going to shy away like a child. You can do it. Come on.

However, when you take another peep and stare at the group again, the minuscule crumb of determination you just mustered washes away.

After fiddling with your fingers, hair, clothes, and just everything that can possibly be fiddled with, you decide that after this song over, you’ll go.

So you listen to the words, hoping it will calm you down, but highly doubting it will.

“So ist es immer, that in the evening time  

We drink and we sing when our fighting is done

So ist es immer, we live under the burnt clouds

Ease our burden, long is the night,"

Ease our burden,  you grumble internally. How about easing your burden by getting the fuck out of here, because truly, you can’t do this. You would rather get buried into the ground than walk towards this big horde, with most of them probably disliking and distrusting you.

You’ve been courageous enough as it is. Luna is saved, you did what you had to do, maybe it’s finally time to embrace the role of being a chickenshit. No way in hell are you-

“Ah, right on time.”

You abruptly turn around, your eyes falling straight into Furlan’s. He approaches you with a little smile, having just arrived.

Dammit.

“Oh hi.” You give him a strained smile, while thoroughly cursing the universe for compromising your escape plan.

“I’m not even going to ask how long you’ve been standing here.” His tone is filled with amusement as he peeks over the corner with you.

“Not that long, actually,” you mumble while nervously staring at the group.

They haven’t seen you and Furlan yet, and you absolutely want to take advantage of that.

“Furlan… you know the whole me-joining-the-gang thing?” you start as you turn your eyes to him, clearing your throat. “See, I’ve been thinking, on second thought…“

He sorts loudly. “You’re telling me you have no issue stabbing someone in the dick, but saying hello to a couple of guys is where you draw the line?”

Realizing how absurd this sounds, you can’t help but chuckle along.

You’re just about to respond, when your attention is drawn to the strange silence that fills the air. 

Your heart clutches at the thought that the gang noticed your presence, but when you snap your head to the group, it’s clear you aren’t the reason for the sudden quietness.

The reason is Levi.

He’s walking out of the hideout, expression on the edge of boredom while everyone hastily shuffles themselves out of his way.

The drastic change of atmosphere is almost eerie: the entire group is silently staring at him while creating more room for him to pass than necessary. Meanwhile, all you can do is gape along with everyone else as he calmly walks down the stairs, the soft plucking of the guitar being the only sound that fills the air.

"Why are they staring at him like that? Why is everybody silent?” you whisper to Furlan.

He shrugs. “Well… because it’s Levi.”

You furrow your brows. “Are they afraid of him?”

He hesitates. “Yeah, a little, probably. But I think admiration is a better term. I guess it’s a combination of both.”

Levi doesn’t seem fazed by the shift in his men’s behavior at all. He’s clearly used to it.

It is now, when you observe the collected authority he’s exerting over one of the most skilled group of criminals in the Underground, that you wonder how you’ve ever had the damn guts to grab this man’s collar and push him against a wall. That, when the dangerous men in front of you seem to be terrified of accidentally standing in his way.

Being alive might in fact be the biggest miracle that has occurred to you so far.

Levi’s eyes fall on you as he reaches the end of the stairs, which does nothing to decrease your nerves. In fact, very much the opposite. He doesn’t look away as he approaches you and Furlan, and you try your utmost best to ignore all the eyes that are traveling from him to you.

He stops in front of you, face as stoic as usual. “You’re here. Good.” Bringing his attention to Furlan, he nods in your direction. “Introduce her to them, will you? I have somewhere to go, I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

When Levi’s eyes travel back to you, there’s something in them that makes you suspect he knows. He can see exactly how you’re feeling, as if you’re nothing but an open book.

“Nervous?” he mocks, clearly ridiculing you.

He seems mildly amused by your irritated frown, but before you manage to come up with a decent response, he walks off without saying another word. 

You helplessly stare at him as he abandons you. Truly, you’d rather be alone with him than with the horde of intimidating thieves he’s leaving you behind with.

The helplessness in your expression doesn’t go unnoticed, because Furlan lets out a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not half as bad as you think. Besides, you’ve already built yourself quite a reputation with that performance of yours. Not only do they know not to fuck around with you, but you’ve also already brought in a good sum of cash. It has left a pretty good impression.”

You sigh in defeat, knowing there isn't a way out of this anymore. “Alright,” you mumble.

Daring to tear your eyes away from Furlan, you look at the group. A few of them are still glancing at you, but most have continued their conversations.

Furlan encourages you forward with a friendly pat on the back. Trying to hide that you may in fact be a chickenshit, you walk towards the group while steeling your nerves. You’re not going to look nervous or insecure the first time they see you. Stand your ground. Hold your composure. Force confidence to fill you up again. Truly, they should be scared of you, not the other way around.   

One head turns. This is followed by whispers and more and more heads turning to look at you. The time you arrive close to the bottom of the stairs, the group is completely silent.

You want to fucking die.

While you’re busy pleading the universe to let you decompose on the spot, Furlan next to you seems to be in an exceptionally good mood.

“Boys, you all know who this is, she will be part of our group from now on! A talented one, so I can already tell many successful missions are ahead of us,” he beams, “I trust you’ll all help to incorporate her into the group.”

You’re just about to continue manifesting the ground to swallow you whole, when the silence around you is broken rather quickly.

“Nice to meet ya, good to have you in the gang!” an oddly familiar voice calls. Enthusiastic, but with a slight hint of mischievousness. When you find the owner of the voice, you recognize him immediately.

Oh.

He’s the man who saw you half-naked during your interrogation. While his smile is warm, he seems a little too excited.

You glance at Furlan for a second. His smile says it all. Everything clicks.

Double oh.

He must be the one Furlan mentioned when he told you someone was happy to have you in the group. It’s clear Furlan doesn’t know the reason behind it. Levi probably didn’t tell him about the incident, and he seems to have no idea why you truly caught this man’s attention. Might also be why Levi tensed up.

Great.

Nobody was actually excited to have you in the group, you just caught the attention of a sexually deprived pervert.

Hiding your disappointment, you muster a “thanks,” while forcing a smile.

“We heard what you did to those two bastards last week,” someone else in the crowd says. It takes you a second to realize it’s the man with the guitar. His lips are curled up in amusement as he watches you with a hint of curiosity. “I definitely would rather have you as an ally than an enemy, that’s for sure.” Some of the men in the group chuckle at his words, and the guitarist gives you a little smile, his voice turning warm and sincere, “Welcome to our gang. I’m sure it’ll feel like home in no time.”

You blink, not expecting someone to be this kind to you. Surprisingly, when you look around, most men either seem amused or indifferent. Not the painfully angry or vicious expressions you thought would be thrown at you.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you tell him, unable to hide how stunned you are by the warm welcome. 

He gives you a little nod, after which Furlan introduces everyone to you. Out of all the men standing in front of you, only six are part of the gang. The other men are acquaintances and friends who very occasionally help around, but are mostly just here to chatter and pass the time.

You don’t even try to remember their names, and instead focus on the six people who are going to be part of your life from now on.

Noah, Paul, Caleb, Elias, Jan, and Kai.

Yep, you’re never going to remember any of that.

The names sound familiar due to your many days of stalking, but they slip out of your mind after a fraction of a second due to your nervousness.

Great. 

After Furlan is done introducing everyone, he turns to you. “I need to go upstairs for a moment, I’ll be back in a bit. Will you be okay?”

You nod, trying to hide that you are, in fact, absolutely not okay with being left alone with these people.

Either Furlan doesn’t notice or he pays your helplessness no mind, because with a last encouraging nod, he turns around and leaves you to your own devices.

You’re just about to thoroughly curse your life yet again, when the guitarist beckons you over. “Hey,” he calls out with a smile, “Come here, tell us a bit about yourself.”

Two other gang members are standing next to him. Your pulse shoots up at the sight of three pairs of eyes fixating you, but you try to bite the feeling back as you approach them. The rest of the men are too far away to be part of the conversation, so the air quickly fills with chatter again as everyone continues their own discussions.

“New member of the group huh?” the guitarist drawls, a smile on his lips, “I’m Noah, noticed you were spacing out during that little introduction round.”

You chuckle a little, and hope the nervousness isn’t apparent in your voice. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m terrible with names.”

His grin broadens, and you have to give it to him: he has an adorable smile. His brown, wavy hair looks a little wild, and it suits him. You’ve already seen him from afar during your spying sessions, but this is the first time you can observe his facial details, such as the green color of his eyes, and the freckles covering his nose.

“We’ll do a second introduction round. I’m Noah, been in the group for about… two years or something? Terrorizing the city for that long has been fun and all, but music is my real passion,” he explains, proudly patting his guitar. “In fact, I forced two other fellas to fulfill my dream, coerced them to form a little band with me.”

He points at the man standing next to him, who watches you with a calm, but undeniably distrusting look. He’s rather lean, and his dark hair matches the blackish color of his eyes. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, showing a deep scar running from his hand all up to his elbow.

“This is Caleb, he’s our drummer,” Noah explains. “He got into the gang a year and a half ago. Unbeatable at knife combat, but also unbeatable at breaking our damn instruments. I’ve had to replace two of his drums in a span of a couple of months.”

“Oy shut it, those bongos were on the verge of collapsing anyway,” Caleb shoots before glancing at you, his expression devoid of any kind of warmth.

After a few seconds, you tear your eyes away from him, finding it uncomfortable to look at him for too long. He’s clearly wary of you, and quite frankly, your nerves have already been eating you enough as it is. No need to make things worse.

In contrast to him, Noah seems amused. He points at a man standing a bit further away, who is busy chatting with other gang members. “That guy right there is in our band too. Plays the handpan, but we’ll introduce you to him another time.”

You hesitate for a moment, looking back and forth between Noah and the man he’s referring to. “Handpan? Never heard of that, honestly.”

“Oh most people haven’t,” Noah reassures you with a dismissive wave. “Beautiful instrument, but no idea where the hell he stole that from. Maybe he’s the only one in this city who can play it, because I’ve never seen anyone else with it. And that says a lot considering I search the streets for musical talent all the time.”

A smirk appears on his lips. “The three of us form a little bit of a miserable band, but we manage to create good vibes.”

“You forgot about me,” the man next to Caleb shoots. Blue eyes, pale skin, and long blond hair reaching right below his shoulders. Unlike Caleb, his smile matches Noah’s. In fact, you’d argue it’s even more vibrant.

“Ah yes, Paul,” Noah chuckles, “Lacks the talent for the band, but he does bring mental support.”

Paul lifts a brow. “That’s it? No compliments, no skills to mention, nothing?”

“Hmm,” Noah hums while pretending to think real hard, “not that I can think of, pretty sure that sums up your entire existence.”

Paul reaches to smack Noah's head, but his hand gets dodged just in time.

Noah chuckles and brings his attention back to you. “The rest of the group you’ll know in time. I’m sure you’ll quickly get to know everyone once we go on missions and all.”

“Sure,” you nod with a faint smile, “Alright, so Noah, Caleb, and Paul. Got it.”

“It’s good to have you in the group,” Paul tells you, excitement sprinkled in his voice. “We could use some extra talent.”

“Agreed,” Noah hums. His emerald green eyes shift back to you. “About that, tell us about yourself. We’ve heard and seen some things here and there, but not that much."

Three pairs of eyes are on you again, bringing a familiar wave of discomfort back. However, it isn’t as strong as before, probably because you’ve been saved from the horribly cold and awkward conversation you envisioned. You’ll have to thank all deities that may exist that Noah is sociable and welcoming.

“Well, there isn’t that much to say, really,” you start hesitantly. “My dad taught me how to fabricate weapons when I was younger. It’s kind of a hobby now, and I use it for my missions. Aside from that, I like to do a bit of mediocre-level sewing in my spare time. Keeps my head off of things and all, when I’m not busy with robberies.”

Noah gives you an impressed look. “An artistic soul huh? Might have to join our band then.”

You snort lightly. “Never done anything with music, I doubt I could help.”

“Oh these two hadn’t either,” Noah counters while pointing at Caleb and the gang member standing further away, “but you just learn in time, though I have to admit it was an absolute fuckfest at first, I nearly gave up on the dream.”

Caleb gives him a look, making Noah’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Well, who knows then, maybe one day,” you tell him with a lighthearted shrug.

After a brief moment of silence, Paul’s curious eyes shift to you. “What kind of weapons do you make?”

“Mostly knives. Kitchen knives, throwable knives, butterfly knives, all that. But sometimes I make crossbows and throwable circular blades too.”

“Oh shit,” Paul mouths, his surprised expression matching that of Noah’s. Even Caleb’s expression shifts, though it's barely visible, and it remains rather cold.

“See?” Paul shoots after a moment of stunned silence, “I’ve been saying since the beginning she’d be a damn good asset for the group, I-“

“You four,” a familiar voice behind you interrupts. “Follow me.”

You all turn around at the same time. Levi is standing behind you. His eyes trail over everyone, until they stop on you.

Seeing his familiar face is relieving, yet for some reason, his presence and the way he’s looking at you increase your heart rate.  

He breaks eye contact and nods towards the door of the headquarters. The four of you follow him in silence as he walks up the stairs. In the meantime, you try to ignore the curious glances cast in your direction.

Noticing that Noah, Caleb, and Paul are thoroughly wiping their shoes on the doormat, you do the same before entering, wondering if you’ve ever even thought about doing this properly in the past.

“I’ve got a mission for you,” Levi announces as he walks to the table at the back of the room. He grabs a stack of papers and searches it through. After finding what he’s looking for, he turns around and holds up a note between two fingers. “On here I’ve written the address and all the useful information you may need about the two men you will rob today.” He hands the note over to Paul, who proceeds to inspect it.

“Gontria…” the blond reads out loud, “Isn’t that the expensive inn where all the rich from above go during their little trips in the Underground?”

“Yes, it’s the most expensive inn actually,” Levi elaborates with a calm tone. “It’s at the east of the city, where the most expensive brothels are. Just like most inns in that area, it’s filled with scum from above who come down here for a fun little weekend trip.”

His eyes scan over the four of you as he leans back on the table. “These two in particular are even more filthy than the others, treating the ones they pay for entertainment as nothing more than roaches. No surprise here, since that’s all they see us as. They’re both middle-aged, the tallest one is Herman, the one with the mustache is Friedrich. Fancy clothing, pretty watches, you get the picture.”

Noah accepts the note from Paul and furrows his brows as he reads the contents. “Wait, hold on, I recognize those names,” he says. “They’re the ones Caleb and I had to rob once before, right?”

“They are.”

Caleb lets out a bitter scoff. “Wait, you mean the shitheads who were beating and assaulting escorts in public?”

Levi’s eyes darken. “Yes, and it wasn’t a one-time thing, you know how these types are, always making it a fucking habit. So do me a favor and don’t go easy on these worthless fucks. You can get rid of them altogether for all I care.”

His tone of voice is particularly bitter, especially considering how common the horrible treatment of sex workers is in this city. In fact, it is not something most people tend to ponder over, or care much about. Violence and brutality are everywhere, and citizens tend to either ignore it or participate in it.

Levi looks at Noah, who is inspecting the note. “They’ll leave Sunday night, so they carry three days worth of cash, which I know they use excessively. Part of it will be in their rooms probably, other part on hand.”

Caleb leans over Noah's shoulder to read the note.

Crossing his arms, Levi looks at them for a moment. “Don’t come back until you’ve stolen every single damn penny they’ve brought down here. Got it?”

“Got it.” Noah nods.

Levi’s eyes briefly glide over you, before he brings his attention to everyone else. “You’ll have to figure out how you will go about it yourselves this time, so I expect some good teamwork from you all, understood?”

Everyone nods.

“Good. Now go,” he orders with a dismissive wave.

Everyone turns around to leave. You do the same, but after taking two steps, Levi holds you back. His hand is gentle on your arm, yet it manages to bring all your thoughts to a stop, making the warmth of his touch the sole thing you can focus on.

“What's wrong?” you ask faintly, eyeing him.

His gaze flicks to the boys leaving the room behind you, then it goes back to you.

“I meant it about the teamwork,” he says, voice low. “I know you’re probably used to working alone, and you don’t know these guys, but focus on working with them and trusting them, alright? Follow the plan.”

“No worries, I can stick to a plan. I’m not that rebellious,” you answer light-heartedly, in hopes he won’t notice the tense feeling in your body due to his touch.

He doesn’t reciprocate your amused tone. “Don’t underestimate this,” he says as he slowly lets your arm go. “Bad teamwork is the number one reason missions go south.”

You press your lips together, nodding. “Alright, I’ll do my best.”

There’s a brief moment of silence as you two stare at each other.

“Good luck,” he finally murmurs.

You give him a little nod and turn around, feeling his eyes pinned on your back.

Even after you close the door behind you, you still feel his touch lingering on your skin.

Chapter Text

The inn your two future victims reside in, along with the whole area surrounding it, is exactly what you expected it to be. The entire place is catered to people from above. It’s not for nothing it’s located in the east of the Underground, close to the big stairway; the one that leads directly to outside.

The east of the city provides all the ‘benefits’ of the Underground, such as unmonitored brothels, access to drugs and prostitution, and a variety of other illegal occurrences. It’s the main reason why people come down here: there’s barely any police, and everyone can do whatever the hell they want. Lower class, middle class, and occasionally even higher-class people visit this city. You used to never understand why on earth prestigious people would go to the Underground, until you saw them letting loose with your own eyes. Far away from their wives, children, and people for whom they need to uphold a reputation. One can only imagine what their surroundings would think if they knew about their scandalous little trips down here.

But the reasons to come to the Underground are various, you have found. Some do it purely for the rush, enjoying the idea of going to the most dangerous district in the three walls, as if this is a thrilling fucking wilderness. Others need a little power trip, or a reminder that things could be worse. That at least they’re not the ones stuck in here like animals in a cage.

It isn’t all that bad, though. You’ve seen kind souls who’ve come down here to help around, to feed the orphans wandering the streets. While some do it due to their genuine concern for children, others seem to have a really hard time hiding their satisfied, smug expressions whenever they get thanked. A good ego stroke, one could say. Something that helps to compensate for whatever shittiness they do on the daily. Though you suppose that at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much what their intentions are. Helping is helping, and the outcome remains the same.

While this area of the city mostly provides whatever these people come down here for, it shields them from what they do not want to see. The prices are too high for the poorer to live in, making it a place for the relatively richer citizens of the Underground. And though the people from above attract thieves like moths on a lamp, the crime rates are much lower than one would expect due to businesses being particularly well guarded. They have the money to pay for that after all, thanks to the tourism flows.

It’s a good business tactic. One that is beneficial for people here, as well as for people from above. In fact, the inn your two victims lodge in is surrounded by businesses that cater to very specific needs.    

The streets are alive, filled with drunken laughter and the sound of instruments playing inside bars, pubs, and brothels. Men wander around, gazes filled with lust and desire, before disappearing in brothels. Pretty women dance at the entrances, luring people inside with charming smiles. Stockings, high heels, beautiful corsets, and cherry red lipstick. Escorts disappear with their clients into a variety of inns. Merchants sell tobacco, alcohol, and a range of questionable-looking substances whenever asked.

The smell of opium and sweet perfume fills the air, enchanting everyone with the desire to let go. Various accents flow past you in waves, many of which don’t feel like home to you. It doesn’t take much effort to find out which people running the streets are from here, and which are from the outside. Be it for their accents, their clean and intact clothes, or the way their gazes of lust get interrupted by looks of disgust whenever they see anything that doesn’t fit their standards. Sometimes, you’re also met with excited faces, mainly from teenagers who secretly come down here with their friends for the thrill.

It’s an entertaining phenomenon to observe, particularly when you’re bored out of your fucking mind.

You’re sitting with Noah, Caleb, and Paul around a wooden table, sipping on a drink that is way too expensive for your liking, but necessary to look as inconspicuous as possible. It’s a good thing the pub you’re at has tables and chairs outside, making it a lot easier to focus on the inn Levi mentioned. You’re close enough to the building to keep an eye on it, but far enough to not get noticed.

Herman and Friedrich, your two victims, are still in their rooms. Thus, you’ve all decided to wait until they leave to break in. Needless to say, having to stare at everyone and everything that enters and leaves the building gets boring quite fast.

“I don’t have the patience for this,” Paul groans in frustration. “Can’t we just get in there now and break in, scare the shit out of them in the process? What’s the worst they’re gonna do?”

“Stab us, maybe? And alarm everyone in the building?” Noah proposes with a sigh. “Caleb and I gave those two a good scare last time they came down here. If they hear someone breaking in, they’ll just launch themselves at us with a knife. Being reckless is not going to help us here, buddy.”

Paul pouts in defeat as he takes the last sip of his beer.

“Besides,” Noah continues as he leans back in his chair, a smile creeping across his face, “the plan now is good enough. I’m looking forward to it. Just please make it as chaotic as possible, I need the entertainment.”

“Oh, I’m excited too.” Paul looks at you, radiating like a lightbulb as he gives you a proud, friendly pat on the back. “I like that creative brain of yours.”

You chuckle. “I mean we could go for a more aggressive tactic, but I like doing it this way. Fewer risks, more fun. At least, as long as our acting is okay.”

Paul's grin broadens. “That’s right.”

You can’t help but smile too. You’re still surprised they all voted for your plan. The four of you brainstormed, and there were several vague ideas, but ultimately everyone agreed that yours was the most ideal. The plan is to distract the receptionist and the two guards inside with some good drama, while two of you slip by and break in. This idea didn’t only spark everyone’s interest due to the entertainment of causing a scene, it’s also much safer than most other alternatives, such as accessing the building from one of the windows. There’s a high risk of getting seen, and an even higher risk of ending in a stranger's room who might panic and alarm everyone. Also, a high risk of said strangers being … busy.

It feels nice. Not only does their acceptance of your plan feel like a sign of acceptance towards you, but you’re more than glad to possibly exceed Levi’s expectations, since he seemed to question your ability to work with his group.

“You do that often?” Noah asks, his curious eyes fixed on you. “Causing drama as a distraction when you rob?”

“Not always, but it’s useful,” you admit. “I’ve always worked alone, so sometimes it’s just smarter to distract as best as I can by putting a façade on. It’s just less risky than violence. I’ve kind of abused this tactic because I’m a woman, so people tend to be less wary of me, especially if I’m dressed a certain way. Everyone underestimates me, so why not make use of that?”

“Good point,” Noah says thoughtfully, playing with a curl of his brown locks. “We’re usually more direct since we’re in a group and can back each other up, but I have to say I like the change.”

You hum as you take another sip of your drink. As you glance at Paul, it becomes difficult to hold in your laughter. The man is gleaming, probably because he was picked as the chosen one to create a dramatic mess with you.

“How do people from outside even call their fiancées?” Paul asks, a hint of mock in his tone. “Should I call you my sweet-cheeks-angel-pumpkin-pie?”

“It’s tactical,” you admit, “I’m already sweating from the cringe, so that might be enough for the guards to pass out from secondhand embarrassment.”

You could swear you just saw Caleb’s lips twitch in the corner of your eye. An ego boost, considering the man has given you exactly zero indication he likes you so far.

Paul smiles widely. “I’ll see, I’ll go with whatever fits the moment. Now let’s hope I can act.”

Caleb side-eyes Paul. “You don’t even need to act, you’re as dramatic as they come.”

“One of my many talents,” Paul admits, giving his friend a teasing wink.

“Wait, hold on,” Noah interrupts, pointing at the inn. “Those two men… it’s them, right? The left one doesn’t have his hat on, but I think he’s that Herman guy.”

“Fucking hell, his forehead is bigger than Wall Sina,” Caleb mumbles, “Could probably exert its own gravitational pull.”

Caleb might have a point, because Herman’s forehead is indeed the first thing you notice when looking in the direction Noah is pointing at. Two men matching Levi’s description are walking out of the inn. While most outsiders who lean on the richer side tend to wear their most subtle clothing when they come down here, these men don’t seem to have bothered.

'Fancy clothing, pretty watches, you get the picture'. Levi wasn’t exaggerating.

Paul turns to Caleb, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “You’ve seen Wall Sina?”

Caleb gives his friend a blank stare. “How many times do I have to explain I’ve been outside before? Tone it down with the alcohol Paul, your memory is garbage.”

Paul leans closer to his friend, lips curling up into a lopsided smile. “At least I remember the way your sweet lips feel when you kiss me good night.”

Caleb rolls his eyes, muttering an exasperated “shut the fuck up,” under his breath.

“Look,” you interrupt, pointing at the two men further away. “They’re walking to one of the brothels Levi wrote down. If we’re lucky they’ll still be there when we’re done. We might easily catch them after we’ve robbed their place.”

“Perfect,” Noah quips. “I hope they have enough cash on hand.”

“I’m sure they do,” Caleb grumbles after emptying his drink in one gulp. “For starters, we could sell those watches. I’m sure there’s at least one fuck around here who needs his ego stroked with fancy accessories.”

“One fuck being me," Paul beams. "I’d love to slap that around my wrist.” 

“God, please no,” Caleb groans, “How about spending that money on some decent food instead of those disgustingly dry crackers you always resort to?”

“Oh sweetie, you worried about me?”

Caleb doesn't even bother to respond. Instead, his expression fills with utter exasperation.

Noah claps his hands. “Alright, you two can fight it out later, let’s get into action, shall we?”

Caleb lets out a deep sigh of exhaustion, but doesn’t protest as all of you stand up.

“You guys got your lockpicks?” Paul asks as you all approach the inn, his attention on Noah and Caleb.

They both rumble through their pockets and nod.

You turn to them as well. “While Paul and I distract the guards, there’s a chance they still might see you in the corner of their eyes. So just go to the rooms as if you belong there. They’ll be too busy to pay you any mind, so as long as they don’t subconsciously process you shouldn't be there, they won’t even notice.”

Noah nods. “Got it. No running or sneaking.”

You turn to Paul, a smile creeping across your face. “Don’t forget to put on an accent. We’re just a whiny couple from above.”

“Got you,” Paul reassures with a wink as he readjusts his long blond locks, tucking them behind his ears. You have to give it to him: it fits the façade you’re both about to put on.

You look down at your long beige coat, then at the silver ring on your finger. Luna stole it from a merchant when she was younger. It might look simple and bland, but it should do the trick.

Just like Paul, you passed home to look like you don’t belong in this city. The coat you chose used to be from your mother, just like the majority of clothing you own. It might be strange to regularly wear clothes that carry such emotional value, but sometimes it makes you feel like she’s here, with you. Like you’re wrapped in something safe and familiar, her subtle presence bringing you courage, but breaking your heart at the same time. She used to wear this same coat for some of her missions, and you wonder if she did it for a similar reason as you do now: to rob people in this area of the city. She always told you that speaking like outsiders is a good skill to learn, so you wouldn’t be surprised if she targeted these people specifically; pretending to be one of them to gain their trust, then stealing everything they brought down here. 

A fierce one, she was.

You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together. “Alright, let’s go.”

Together with Noah and Caleb, you walk inside the building. However, the two men stay at a safe distance from you, purposefully making it seem like you don’t know each other.

The main room of the inn is crowded and filled with laughter and chatter. The dim lighting creates a cozy atmosphere, and the air is filled with the heavy smell of tobacco and cigars. Some people are drinking, others are eating, all in all, no one is paying you any attention. The place sure stands up to its name, because unlike most dining rooms you’ve set foot in, this one doesn’t look like it’s about to collapse. In fact, the more you look at details such as the delicate silverware, the beautiful dark oak tables, and the intact wooden walls that lack the usual rotten planks, the more you understand why this inn is the most expensive one in the Underground. Also, most importantly, this place looks clean. As clean as a crowded room can be, at least. Something that unfortunately isn’t all too common in most bars and pubs in this city.

Above the undecipherable hum of conversations, you recognize the familiar accents of the outsiders as you pass by their dining tables. You’re sure this place still doesn’t meet the standards of many who come from above, but frankly, no one comes to the Underground for the luxury of it.

At the back of the dining room is a flight of stairs that leads directly to the lodging area of the building. One that Noah and Caleb need to access to enter the guest room that contains all the treasures you need to steal.

However, there are two obstacles. A receptionist, who you suppose is the owner of the inn, and two guards. One is standing right next to the stairs, the other is leaning on the wall a bit further away, keeping a sharp eye on everyone in the dining room. It’s no surprise they have at least two guards, considering this place is pretty much a treasure trove in a city that has nothing.

The guard standing by the stairs next to the reception is bulky and large, glancing at you while you approach the receptionist. Tightly pursed lips hide behind his mustache, and his dark bushy eyebrows – which look permanently furrowed – make him look particularly unfriendly. He seems to be in a permanently sour mood, and you can see how he’d be a perfect fit to throw out all the thieves who might try to access the guest rooms. You don’t miss the revolver clinging to his black pants either, which really is not helping you feel calm and serene.

Luckily, this isn’t the first time you’ll have to act like an emotionally unstable woman in distress, so it isn’t too hard to force some confidence to fill you up again as you stop in front of the receptionist, face lost and saddened.

“Good evening, how may I help you?” the receptionist inquires. His voice is polite, and you can already tell he purposely waters down his underground accent. He must be in his fifties or sixties, with several tired wrinkles tracing his face. His hair is a mix of black and grey, and so is his mustache, one that looks well-groomed.

You greet the man as you let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m looking for someone – my fiancé – and I heard he’s lodging here. Could you be so kind to check if this is indeed the case? His name is Paul.”

“I’m sorry ma'am, I’m not supposed to give out that information,” the man tells you politely, an apologetic tone in his voice.

As expected. People who come down here usually do it secretly, so it isn’t good for this type of business to lack confidentiality.

You purse your lips and try to look as innocent and distressed as possible, while putting your hands on the desk as you lean in closer, your ring on full display. “Please. I just need to know if he’s here, and then I’ll go.”

You look down, pretending you have a hard time uttering the next words. “We’re… we’re getting married next week, but he’s been acting different lately. He always makes up excuses, saying he needs to work late, that he won’t be there during the weekend due to his work trips. I believed him at first, but -” you clench your jaw and take a deep breath. “- but I found out he goes down here for…“ You stop, putting all your energy into looking devastated.

The man watches you for a moment, his expression empathic, though it seems trained. “I’m sorry about your fiancé ma’am, and I understand the distress you must be feeling. However, I can’t give out who lodges here.”

“I won’t be any trouble, I promise. I don’t want to talk to him, I just need to know once and for all, and then I will be gone and I’ll never come back. Please. Please I need to know, I don't want this marriage to be the mistake of my life."

However, he doesn’t look convinced.

“I won't tell him about this visit here. I’ll say I saw him in one of those brothels myself. It’s much more satisfying that way, and he won’t be able to come up with excuses and lies anymore,” you grind out, bitterness seeping out of your voice. “If he’s really down here, it’s over. He’ll be miserable, and he can go back here again all he wants then, which I’m sure he’ll do.”

There’s a spark in his eyes, one that you’ve been seeking out all along. A dark gloom, indicating he doesn’t like these bastards either. That though they are good business, he’d love to ruin their happy little marriages. A sour little taste for the ones who have the privilege of breathing fresh air and feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin, while simultaneously taking advantage of the ones who are stuck in this dark cave forever. Your last words are a reminder that it wouldn’t only be satisfying vengeance for the injustice that is his life, but it would also be good business. A broken marriage means more visits, and thus more income.

You have planted a seed, but it needs to grow. He needs more of a push. It's a good thing you know exactly how to push people who have been rotting here their entire lives, just like you.

“We were such a happy couple. We had everything,” you sob with a quivering voice. “We just bought a beautiful house in the countryside. It’s got it all – beautiful trees, a river, flowery hills. It’s so pretty there, so freeing. I can’t believe he’s throwing all of that away just to go down here whenever it’s convenient for him. Using people here for his pleasure any way he wants.”

Something flashes in his eyes, the hot anger he’s trying to hide. The jealousy, the frustration at the unfairness of it all. His expression stays polite – he’s well trained to handle people from outside and the inevitable bitterness that comes along with it – but it’s visible, his desire to break everyone who dares to throw such a beautiful life away. His desire to teach them a lesson, all these bastards who take that free life for granted.

He’s almost there. One final push.

“Please,” you sniffle desperately. “I’ll pay you. If he’s on the list, I’ll give you everything I have on hand.”

His expression shifts.

You did it. You convinced him.

This city is meant for breaking rules, after all. It's also why you’re not planning on paying him, but he doesn’t need to know that yet.

“Alright,” he relents with an irritated sigh. “But after this, I will need you to leave.”

“I promise.”

He takes a little notebook from under the desk counter and looks at you. “What’s his name?”

“Paul. Paul Roosburgh.” Completely made up, but good enough.

The man scans through the list, until he shakes his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, he’s not here.”

“That’s not possible,” you breathe desperately, “I’m sure he must be. I’ve been told so.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry madam. There are plenty of other inns around. Your fiancé might be somewhere else.”

You pretend to think this through.

“Wait! He goes by a few nicknames. Can I see? Maybe he gave you an alias.”

He watches you hesitantly, irritation visible on his features. It doesn’t help that you’ve infuriated him with your talks about the beautiful life outside.

“Please, it will ease my conscience. I need to know for sure.” Your voice is soft and pitiful.

The man sighs and hands over his notebook. You take it and scan the list, looking for the names of your two victims. Friedrich and Herman.

Room eight. Bingo.

“That’s him,” you gasp. “That- that’s him! Room eight!”

In fear Noah and Caleb might not have heard it above all the chatter of the room – wherever they are – you decide to sob out the room number again, this time much louder and more dramatically. The receptionist looks at you with clear discomfort, and the guard next to the stairs glances at you as well.

“I can’t believe it,” you sob, burying your face in your hands. “He left me… he really destroyed everything… for this ?”

You sniffle in your hands once more, trying to buy time. Paul needs to come soon, before the receptionist kicks you out.

“Oh… Oh Walls.”

You do your utmost best to suppress a satisfied smirk as you tear your hands away from your face, and abruptly turn around.

Paul stares at you, slack-jawed and eyes widened.

You have to give it to him, he can act.

“S-Sweetie? What are you doing here?”

The pet name he uses combined with his forced accent makes you want to snort into laughter, but you keep yourself in check.

“What am I doing here?” you repeat in disbelief after a moment of fake shock, “Really? You’re the one asking me that, when you’ve left me all alone to go fuck some prostitutes?!” Your angered voice pierces through the room.

A couple of people look at you, the guard surveilling the room included. You can’t see the receptionist or the guard by the staircase behind you, but you’re sure they’re starting to get alarmed too.

You dare to glance around, until your eyes fall on Noah and Caleb, standing rather close to the stairway, enjoying the show. Unsurprisingly, Noah looks highly amused. You tear your eyes away from him, afraid he’ll only serve as a distraction.

“Listen, I can explain. It’s not what you’re thinking-“ Paul pleads.

“It’s not what I’m thinking? are you joking?” you snap. "What lies are you going to sell me this time? That you came down here for work? Like every damn weekend you're away? You think I’m that stupid?” you spit incredulously.

“My sweet cheeks, please,” Paul whines, and you curse him mentally for saying something that could make you burst into laughter. The amusement in his eyes is visible, but you know you’re probably the only one who recognizes it. 

More people are staring now, and the chatter in the room is slowly dying down.

The guard who is leaning on the wall looks tense, eyeing his colleagues behind you with furrowed brows.

“I’m not your sweet cheeks anymore you fucking asshole,” you snarl as you stalk past him. You grab a mug on the table behind him, ignoring the many pairs of shocked eyes, and throw the beverage all over Paul.

He stares at you with fake fury and shock – though the shock might not entirely be an act.

There is some protest behind you, probably from the ones who just lost their drink, but you pay them no mind.

A dangerously growing chaos, one that seems to be the last straw for the guards. They both approach you and Paul, expressions stern. “You need to leave ma’am, now.”

You ignore them, in favor of increasing the chaos.

“Am I not good enough for you?!” You push Paul on the chest, albeit not hard enough to make him lose his balance. “You’d throw it all away to get your dick wet in some filthy brothels?!”

A firm hand is placed on your shoulder. “You need to leave.”

The other guard is behind Paul, ready to seize him too. The man’s brows are knitted. He is not looking pleased.

You glance at the receptionist.

It’s not enough. The man still has a full view of the room. It won’t work if he doesn’t get distracted more.

You take a very quick glance at Noah, who is covering his mouth to hide his amusement. He and Caleb are close to the stairway, but more needs to be done for them to pass without being seen.

Time to embarrass yourself on another level.

You swiftly bat the hand on your shoulder away and launch yourself forward, just in time to dodge the guard’s grip.

“You,” you hiss at the receptionist as you stalk straight towards him, “You’re going to let them throw me out like this?! As if I’m the bad guy?!”

You look batshit insane, but it’s working. The receptionist looks horrified. He tries to dodge you with widened eyes, but you manage to reach over the counter and grab him by the shirt just in time.

“Sweet cheeks!”  Paul cries behind you, almost destroying your perfectly acted expression as you pull the receptionist towards you with unrelenting force. The man gasps as his face is practically pulled onto yours.

“Why don’t you throw every whoring piece of shit like him out instead of ME-“

One large hand grabs your free arm and twists it around your back, the other is on your hand, trying to free the poor receptionist from your vice-like grip.

You snap your head back at the guard holding you, then at Paul. You give him a look, the look, because the only thing that needs to be done is for him to distract the last guard entirely.

He gets it immediately.

“DON’T TOUCH HER WITH THOSE FILTHY HA-“ Before Paul can even finish his dramatic cry, he is grasped by the last guard.

You struggle, you curse, and so does Paul, but it doesn’t take long before you’re successfully torn off the receptionist, and dragged outside with your comrade. 

While being mercilessly pulled out of the building, you catch a quick glance behind you, relieved to see Noah and Caleb are nowhere to be found.

The next moment, you’re brutally thrown on hard cobblestone. Two guards are towering over you and Paul, looking furious. Particularly the one with the mustache and bushy brows.

“If one of us ever has to witness your ugly fucking faces here again, that will be the last thing you’ll ever see you spoiled FUCKS!” he barks, going red in the face and spitting a little as he rages.

You and Paul just stare at them as they stalk back inside. Then, you stare at each other in silence.

Both of you lying on the ground, looking beyond pathetic.

The first to burst into laughter is Paul, which immediately sends you into a laughing fit too.

“Let’s get out of here," Paul wheezes, crawling on his feet and pulling you up. “Before those two start digging our graves.”

Chapter Text

You and Paul are sitting on two old crates pushed against the side of a building, waiting for Noah and Caleb. You’re both watching the lively street before you while keeping an eye on the inn, which is situated at a safe distance. Safe enough to not get noticed and hunted down by the guards again, at least. Paul’s crate is on the verge of collapsing, but it seems the man loves to live life on the edge. Unfazed by your warnings, he lets out a relieved sigh and makes himself comfortable on his set of rotten planks, while tying his blond locks into a bun. With his hair out of the way, your eyes catch a long scar on his neck, running from behind his ear all the way down to his shoulder. Just like when you saw Caleb’s scar, you’re hit with a brief spark of curiosity, but you know better than to ask people about their violent experiences from the past.

Paul leans back on the brick wall, his shoulders relaxing. “They might take a bit long. Knowing these two, they’ll probably want to break in some other rooms too. Noah loves to steal a little too much, and Caleb gets a kick out of ruining people’s days.”

“That good at lockpicking huh?”

He nods. “Especially Noah. I don’t know what it is, but no door is safe in that boy’s sight. My theory is that he’s got some sort of godly hand control, would explain why he’s so good at the guitar.”

“That’s real useful,” you admit. “I admire people who can just lockpick anything, I’ll never understand it. I mean, I’m alright, I guess, but I just got the basics. A slightly more enhanced lock and it’s over for me.”

A smile crawls across Paul’s face. “So there are things you’re not good at after all.”

“Oh, plenty,” you assure him with a chuckle, “I just focus on the things I’m good at, and avoid situations that bring out my weaknesses.“

He looks at you, a curious spark in his eyes. “For example?”

“Well, a big one is having to be the attacker at close-range combat,” you admit. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m good at self-defense, learned all the tips and tricks since I was young, so I can get myself out of risky situations. But it’s also what I’ve been focussing on my entire life, so if you’re gonna ask me to be the one to knock someone out without any far-range weapons, or without taking that person by surprise? I’ll have to pass.”

He hums pensively. “So you’re all about defense?”

For a brief moment, you wonder whether it was a good idea to share one of your weak points with someone you barely even know. Not just anyone, but a man who lives off organized crime. As much as Paul has been nothing but an uplifting sweetheart so far, trusting people is one of the most dangerous things one can do. You should absolutely be reprimanding yourself, but you try to push that mistrusting inner voice away. If you’re going to be working with the gang, they will find out about your strengths and weaknesses sooner or later either way. The mere thought makes you highly uneasy, but you suppose you’ll have to get used to it.

 “Yeah defense is my thing, unless I got these boys.” You open your coat, showing the throwable knives strapped on your thigh. “Or something else I can throw to bring my opponent off-guard.”

“Damn,” he mutters as he admires the small collection on your thigh, “Can I?”

You nod and give him one of your daggers. He takes it and rotates it in his hands, observing it attentively. “You always carry these around?”

“Always.”

“Even for five-minute walks?”

You nod. “I don’t like to take risks when it comes to safety.”

Paul snorts in amusement. “You literally robbed our whole gang on your own.”

“Okay, I don’t like to take unnecessary risks.”

“Cautious,” he muses, “I’m glad. It’s a good thing, girl.”

“I guess it is,” you mumble.

It’s a pain to always have to be cautious, to rarely feel safe and at ease, but at least you’re alive. At least, within the constrictions of constantly feeling anxious about the dangers around you, you still have the freedom to do whatever you want.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence as the both of you stare at the busy street. It’s like you’re invisible spectators, watching as life goes by around you. Laughter, chatter, and music; truly, the ambiance is everywhere. It’s in the tipsy walks of the men walking past, and in the cheerful calls of the merchants whose daily goal is to sell as much liquor and narcotics as humanly possible. It’s in the women and the men working in the brothels, looking radiant and charming. Yet, it only takes a few seconds of attentive observation - a few seconds you’re sure most clients don’t care to take - to notice all the ways their smiles don’t reach their eyes. From what you know, this area might be the only place in the Underground where this forced charm and faked desire is a ground-rule. Greater pay comes with greater acting and greater service, after all. 

Your attention shifts to a woman smoking in a tight alley opposite to you, in-between two brothels. She’s in her working attire - a black corset and high stockings - taking a deep, almost desperate drag of her cigarette while massaging her temples. She must be on a work break: her forced smile is nowhere to be found. Smudges of black makeup are smeared on her cheeks, and her arm is trembling slightly as she takes another drag. Through her sheer stockings, a few dark marks are visible on her legs.

You’re filled with a sudden urge to stand up and drag her out of there to bring her to safety, to a place she doesn’t have to withstand client after client. 

But then what? She’d scold you and go back because she doesn’t have a choice. You do, but she probably doesn’t.

Because 'not everyone can just live off stealing’. The exact sentence a young girl in your neighborhood told you many years ago, back when you still lived with your parents and Luna. The girl was a few years older than you, probably around thirteen or fourteen years old. She was one of the kids you had befriended in your neighborhood, and who you would sometimes chat with while your mother was secretly watching over you from a distance. That day, she was talking about ‘jobs in the east’. She said it was her goal to work there once she got older because the pay is much higher. You had no idea what she meant at first. Then, it quickly became clear she was talking about the very jobs happening in front of you right now.

You were very young, but not ignorant about the topic. No one was, really, no matter what age. Every child knew at least one person working in the industry. Maybe a family member, maybe a friend of a friend, or maybe it was just themselves. For the girl in question, it was the last case. You didn’t know at first, she never wanted to talk about all the ways she managed to get food on her plate. That was, until you looked through your window one early morning, seeing her saunter back home in a dress, makeup smudged and eyes closed from exhaustion.

It took you a few tries before you dared to ask her about it. You were worried about her, but you were still a kid, and you had no idea how to go about the topic. Most of what you knew about the world of brothels and whorehouses at that age was all the things your parents warned you about. Truly, if there’s one thing they were excellent at, it was making you extremely cautious about all the dangerous pitfalls of the Underground. And when it came to sex work, they did not sugarcoat the horrors of the industry one bit, no matter how young you were. A smart decision, considering their words scared you off to the point you promised yourself you’d never willingly enter that world, even if it meant you’d starve. Evidently, once you had to fend for Luna and yourself years after, there were times when that resolve almost crumbled. It always happened during those weeks when your entire body hurt from the pangs of hunger, and your limbs felt wobbly and weak from the lack of energy. That was back in the days you were still deadly afraid to leave your home, not yet used to all the ways your parents weren’t there to protect you anymore. But even though you hit low points of desperation, you never broke your promise. You never gave up on being a full-time thief. You dressed like a boy when you left home to protect yourself, and you kept doing what you had to do. The food and income weren’t particularly steady, but it got better as you forced your skills to develop. 

In hindsight, scaring you away from two possible fields of work you could’ve ended up in - sex work and weapon manufacturing - decreased your chances of survival, but it was for a good reason. Your parents knew that with the right training and dedication, both you and Luna could become skilled enough to survive as solo thieves. That was always the message at home: working alone is the safest option. You’re sure they knew it wouldn’t be easy, but they also knew you’d always have a choice.

And back when you still had your parents, before you found out how difficult it actually is to survive on robberies alone, you thought everyone had that choice. 

When you told the girl exactly that, that she didn’t have to go to those horrible brothels and could just be a thief like you and Luna (which was only half the truth, since the majority of your income still came from your parents), her eyes flashed in rage. “You think I haven’t tried?” she hissed through her teeth. “I don’t know how the fuck you do it, but it’s not enough to make a steady livin’ for me. Maybe I’m not fast or strong enough, but the only times I don’t get caught and almost beaten to death, is when I’m stealin’ from old beggars. Doesn’t leave me with much now does it?”

You still thought she could easily make it if she just learned the right tricks, not yet grasping how big of a headstart you had, with all the hours of training you had already gotten. You didn’t yet understand to which extent her body was much weaker than yours due to all the malnutrition she had undergone since birth. You had no idea about all the ways her brain was already wired to end up in that field, because every young girl knows sex work is one of the rare ways women can get a steady income in this city. A horribly disturbing aspect of the Underground, because if this idea wasn’t so inherently ingrained in the city’s culture, many girls would at least give the world of independent crime a try. But they don’t, and it’s only later on that you realized you wouldn’t either if you hadn’t had an inspiring role model in your life such as your mother. At the time, when you were talking to that girl, you didn’t even yet realize how difficult it actually was to become an independent, solo working thief. It’s the exact reason why people group up into gangs and organizations: working alone is incredibly risky, and tends to give people no secure income. Without the right skills, teaming up is essential. However, especially as a woman, working alone is safer than joining existing gangs. Hell, working in brothels is probably safer than joining gangs. You still can’t believe you’ve done the latter, but you suppose life sometimes takes strange turns in the most unexpected ways.

All in all, the girl was right: ‘not everyone can just live off stealing’. At the end of the day, the key to staying alive is finding whatever you’re good at, and exploiting that skill regardless of what it is. For you, that skill is robbing and tricking people with tactical missions, but not everyone is fortunate enough to exceed in that area too. So while you were dreaming of becoming a criminal mastermind like your mother, the girl in your neighborhood was dreaming of working in one of the fancy brothels in the east. But one look at the woman in front of you, who is smoking with bruises on her legs and dried tears on her cheeks, tells you that dream is nothing but a fairy tale. Mass grooming wrapped up in a misleading package of pretty promises.

Because better pay doesn’t mean better treatment for the ones who provide the service. Maybe it would if there were laws, rules, or just anything to protect people like above ground. But there isn’t. Everything and everyone is dictated by only two things: money and physical strength. Though you’ve heard financial power can bend all laws above ground in the most sickening ways, you’re sure it’s worse here. There aren’t even any laws to bend. There’s no secrecy needed. There isn’t even a lot of money needed, just a little is enough. The desperation for any kind of income is too high, and when desperation is at play, any sense of morality flies out of the window. Money will always give people unrestricted power here. Those men in their long coats and fancy accents walking past you; they only need to give brothel owners a little tip, and they’re allowed to disappear with one of their workers and never bring them back, blurring the line between prostitution and sex trafficking. That, or they’re given permission to do unfathomable things to them to fulfill their sickest desires. Enough money will always be worth more than a life here. The mere thought makes your stomach twist in nausea. It makes your fingers claw at the fabric of your pants in anger. It makes you desperate to protect all the women and children you can’t help.

Because who can stop these sick fucks? You and all the girls here are nothing but unregistered citizens; no official identity and completely untraceable. The fields of prostitution and sex trafficking are two of the biggest businesses in the Underground. Nothing you do could ever stop it or make a difference. You’re powerless. You can’t even target the crime bosses and other powerful men who sell humans like livestock, because it’s too dangerous. You’d immediately get overpowered, tracked down, and killed. You’re on your own after all.

- Well, you were on your own. Not anymore, though you’re not sure if this makes you any more powerful or any safer. 

You take a quick glance at Paul, feeling that familiar worry and distrust again. You don’t want to feel this way, you don’t want to ruin the good feelings you got from the robbery earlier with your typical worries, but how can you not? Levi might not be as inhumane as you initially thought, but that doesn’t change the fact that humans are horrible and egoistic by nature. Money makes people betray the ones who trust them. It even makes people hurt and destroy their loved ones. The businesses surrounding you are a prime example of that; you’ve heard about people selling their own daughters, sons, sisters, and friends to the human trafficking industry out of desperation to survive. Truly, any protection can be bought off. It’s why no one can be trusted; cash will always surpass any level of morality. That’s probably what happened to your parents, they must’ve told a trusted friend of theirs about their identity, who later tipped them off to the MP’s. 

So how the hell are you ever supposed to trust these new men in your life? How do you know they truly have your best interest in mind?

“You know…” Paul mumbles pensively, tearing you out of your trail of thoughts. “If you want, Levi could definitely teach you.”

You frown. “Teach what?”

He smiles and shrugs. “Some tricks for close combat attacks. He’s a master at battle.”

It takes you by surprise for a moment, the fact he’d want to help you get stronger. It harshly contrasts the accusing whispers of your mistrusting inner voice. Though it warms you a little inside, your chest also tightens at the idea. Getting private lessons from Levi, and about something physical like close-range combat no less, makes you oddly nervous.

Images from the first time you came eye to eye with him flash through your mind. You can still feel the way he grabbed you and slammed you against the wall, before crawling on top of you and immobilizing you completely. The memory of the acidic poison in his eyes makes you shudder. It’s strange how fast things have changed. The idea he’d go from that to teaching you how to fight to get better… you can barely wrap your head around it.

“I wouldn’t want to bother him with something like that,” you shrug off.

Paul twirls a loose strand of hair between his fingers. “Oh, he wouldn’t mind. He wants the people he’s responsible for to be safe anyway.”

“I mean… he isn’t responsible for me, and he hasn’t known me for long - especially not in a good light - so I doubt he cares much about my safety.”

“Trust me, he feels responsible for everyone in the gang, doesn't matter if you’re new or not. He’s a good leader, you know? I used to think he only wanted us to do well to get efficient cash, but after a while, I realized he actually cares about all of us deep down. He might be cold and distant sometimes, but he wants the best for us.” Paul turns to look at you. “But don’t confuse that with unconditional kindness, or whatever. He doesn’t hesitate to kick out anyone who brings down the rest of the group. But I guess that’s also a form of caring, it’s the only reason we have the income we have.”

It’s a strange thing to hear. You used to always think gangs were made up by a bunch of brutes who were controlled by one vicious leader who manipulates and scares them to be their puppets. But the softness in Paul’s voice indicates there’s more subtle care and warmth present in this group than you thought possible.

“Ah, look who we have there!” Paul says gleefully. He points towards the two familiar figures approaching, Noah and Caleb.

“Aren’t those our two actors,” Noah responds with a wide smirk.

“Astonishing performance,” Caleb adds, irony dripping from his voice. His lips are curled up into a faint smile. An occurrence you might never see again.

“Thank you, thank you.” Paul bows his head dramatically. His attention shifts to the big bag in Noah’s hands.

“… You fuckers raided that entire building, didn’t you?”

“Something like that,” Noah muses innocently. He kneels down and opens the bag, showing you and Paul the contents. It’s filled with coins, banknotes, and various random objects such as jewelry, watches, silverware, and –

“Is that a shoe?”

“I mean – ” Noah stares at the random boot sitting in his bag. “In my defense, It looks expensive. We couldn’t enter many rooms since we heard noises coming from most of them – noises I never want to hear again – so we had to be a bit greedy.”

You can only imagine what must’ve assaulted their ears up there.

“Where’s the other one?” you ask.

“Fuck if I know.”

At this, you can’t help but snort.

Paul shakes his head and takes the bag. “You’re a damn helpless cause Noah, but hey, Levi will be satisfied.”

“Yeah, well, we still have one more thing to do,” Caleb says. “Can’t wait till we actually get our hands on these vile fucks.”

“Agreed,” Noah murmurs, his voice shifting to a much darker tone.

Both he and Caleb stare at the brothel your two victims entered, their expressions hard. Both have seen the way those two men have mistreated workers down here, and it shows. Something tells you they have every intention of obeying Levi’s command and giving those men exactly what they deserve. 

Good.

The four of you get up and approach the brothel your victims are most likely still at. The building looks similar to the other brothels in this area, the inside dimly lit and filled with smoke. After a quick discussion, you enter a tight alley opposite to the establishment while Noah goes inside for a quick check. After a few minutes he comes back, confirming the two men are inside.

“They’re not drunk, but they might be slightly tipsy, so this is going to be easy.”

“What’s the plan?” you ask.

“There’s two of them, four of us,” Noah says, “so I suggest two people seize them, two others go through their pockets. You know what Levi said – can’t leave a penny behind.” 

Caleb huffs. “Of course you’d remember that.”

“Kind of in the mood to hold these boys at knifepoint,” Noah admits.

“Yeah, me too,” Paul says. “Also, pretty sure I’m a head taller than Friedrich, at the perfect height to whisper sweet threats in his ear.”

Caleb sighs with fake wonderment. “Such a romantic.”

The corners of your lips curl up a little. “Alright so you two seize them, Caleb and I rob them. But how do we isolate them? Do we just lure them somewhere, or should we threaten them to come with us?”

“I feel like luring wouldn’t work,” Caleb says, his dark eyes on you. “When Noah and I attacked them a few weeks ago, we lured them too. I don’t think they’ll fall for that again.”

Paul shrugs. “Then we’ll just hold a knife against their backs and tell them to come with us, easy.”

Noah clicks his tongue. “Always so reckless. They’ll alarm everyone in there. Security will probably jump us before we have the chance to do anything. I don’t know about you, but I’m not really in the mood to die today.”

“Maybe they won’t,” you interject. “They’re not from here, so you could make use of the underground stereotype. Sweetly whisper in their ears how you’d love to stab them right there in front of everyone. It’s true there are more MP’s here than everywhere else, but just make them feel like it’s no problem to you. They think most of us are insane brutes anyway.”

In a brief moment of silence, Noah’s lips slowly twist into a dark sideways smile. “Oh… I like the sound of that.”

“Knew you’d have my back,” Paul beams as he gives your head a soft ruffle. He turns to Noah. “You’ve got your knife?”

Noah nods and slips his weapon from beneath his shirt. The blade is sharp, reflecting the city light as it rotates in his hand. The sight makes you shudder. Up until now, people in your life haven’t been active criminals like you. Well, except for Luna, but even she has always stuck to the safer and milder mission, not often using her blade. It’s slightly unnerving to see the contrast between the warm smiles Noah cast earlier, and the deadly weapon he’s holding now, especially with that tinge of satisfaction in his eyes. You don’t often witness someone’s two opposing sides being this far apart. Men holding knives used to always be your enemies, and nothing more. Now, you’re working with them. Slightly disturbing.

“Alright so we go in, dig a knife into their backs before they recognize me and alarm everyone else in there, then we bring them someplace quiet,” Noah proposes.

A sinister smile forms on Caleb’s lips. “Good. We’ll wait here, be sure to scare the shit out of them, will you?”

“Everything for you sweetie,” Paul shoots with a wink.

Caleb’s eye roll only seems to further brighten Paul’s mood. However, Paul doesn’t waste time irritating his friend any longer and instead turns around to follow Noah.

“We should probably keep a close eye on things,” Caleb tells you as he sharply stares at his two friends entering the brothel. “They might fuck up, so if it takes too long or if a suspicious number of people start leaving the brothel, we go in and help them out.”

You nod, after which the two of you wait in silence. Frankly, you’re relieved you both have something to focus on, because you can’t say you’re entirely comfortable being alone with Caleb yet.

Time passes, but nothing seems out of place. People enter and leave the building casually, none of them looking alarmed. They either look neutral, exhilarated, or tipsy. The street is still filled with the same murmurs, laughter, and drunken conversations; nothing unusual.

But it’s starting to take a bit long.

“Maybe we should check if-“

You’re cut off when four familiar faces exit the brothel. Two of them look exhilarated, the other two look like they’re having the worst day of their lives.

Paul is holding onto the man called Friedrich, one arm wrapped around his shoulders as if they’ve been best buds since childhood, the other disappearing behind the man’s back. Neither Friedrich’s massive dark mustache nor his hat can conceal how mortified he is. In contrast, Paul’s lips are curled up into a sadistic smirk as he murmurs something into the man’s ear.

Noah, on the other hand, is holding onto Herman: the taller one with an impressive forehead. The man’s eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched. However, despite the clear tinge of anger in his expression, the color is drained from his face too, indicating he’s probably scared shitless.

Pauls’s amused smile is as dark as Noah’s, reigniting that same feeling in your gut. A fascination that someone can be so friendly and warm, yet sinister and dangerous. You suppose you aren’t much different, but it’s just unnerving to witness from an outside perspective.

Some people catch quick glances at them as they approach you. It’s clear some of them know. However, nobody in this city, whether they were born here or not, is stupid enough to interfere at such sights. Thus, side glances of suspicion are followed by aversion of gazes. Turning a blind eye to everything is a rule of thumb here, after all.

When the four men enter the alley you’re in, Caleb next to you chuckles softly. It might be the first time you’re hearing him let out anything that resembles a chuckle, though you can’t really say it’s adding to the warmth of his personality considering the circumstances.

“Say hello to our friends,” Noah singsongs to his victim.

Herman winces, making you suspect the blade is being pushed harder into his side. He mutters a forced greeting, the humiliation and fury apparent on his face. However, the sweat on his forehead divulges his fear, as much as he tries to hide it. The slight slouching of his eyes indicates he’s probably a bit tipsy too.

It’s strange, so strange doing this in a group. Humiliating some scum for what they’ve done. You’ve always done this alone, and often to a lesser extent. Not with the power of a whole group. It feels a bit wrong and unfamiliar, but it’s also oddly entertaining.

“Let’s go somewhere more serene and peaceful, nothing quite like some cozy bonding in a private place,” Paul proposes in dry mock.

At this, something shifts in Herman’s expression.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Caleb mutters darkly, a vicious flash in his eyes as he approaches Herman. In an eyeblink, he slips his knife out and presses it against the side of the man’s face, dangerously tracing it over his skin. Herman freezes completely, eyes widened. His gaze travels over the huge scar on Caleb’s arm, making him swallow visibly.

“Go ahead, scream for help if you want,” Caleb continues with an unnervingly sinister tone. “No one will help you, and I’ll make sure to carve that fucking tongue of yours out until you physically can’t stop screaming at all.”

Herman inhales sharply, his terrified expression completely opposing Noah’s, who looks relaxed and amused as he keeps the man restrained.

Neither he nor Paul seem fazed or surprised by Caleb’s demeanor, making you take a mental note to stay on Caleb’s good side, unless you want to get chopped up like an onion one day.

Well… If you aren’t on his bad side already, at least.

While you might be slightly unnerved by Caleb, this does not compare to Friedrich’s reaction, who looks like he’s close to passing out in Paul’s arms.

Caleb cocks his head to the side. “Did I make myself clear?”

Herman nods, jaw clenched and drops of sweat traveling down his head.

“Let’s go then.”

Both Paul and Noah adjust their positions, keeping their knives on their victim's throats instead of their backs. The six of you walk through a couple of alleys until the muffled sounds of the bustling streets die down significantly. The alleyway you stop in is dark and quiet. Bags of trash and empty bottles are scattered over the ground. The brick walls and the ground’s cobblestones are marked with questionable-looking stains, some of which could be from vomit, piss, or God knows what else, but most of which are probably stains of blood.

Friedrich looks even more afraid than before – if that is even possible. In contrast, Herman has a strained expression painted on his face, clearly trying to hide his emotions.

“Alright, so what do you two have on hand for us?” Paul starts, keeping his knife tightly on Friedrich’s skin.

There’s a moment of silence.

“Come on, we don’t have all fucking day you empty-skulled fuckheads,” Caleb grumbles.

“M-My wallet,” Friedrich stammers.

Caleb casts the man an unimpressed look. “That’s it? Not even generous enough to give us that watch of yours?”

“W-wait, no, you can have it, of course!”

“Take it off then.”

The man struggles to do so, his shuddering hands being the obstacle to his task. After an embarrassingly long time, he hands it over to Caleb, who looks at the man with dry amusement. Next, Friedrich gives the wallet sitting in his coat too.

“Is that everything?”

The man hesitates for a moment. He reaches for his other pocket, giving Caleb a couple of banknotes.

“What a good boy,” Paul mocks in his ear.

You shift your focus to Herman. “What about you?”

The man takes his watch off and reaches in his pocket, fishing out some cash.

As you take everything, you give him a suspicious look. “Those three miserable banknotes the only thing you got?”

Herman nods. “I left my wallet in my room.”

You put his belongings in your pockets, and glance at your comrades. Noah’s and Caleb’s dark smiles are enough to know Herman is lying through his teeth. He’s probably hoping you’d take him to his room so he can sign someone for help, or maybe he thinks you’d all split up to rob the inn, giving him a better chance to flee. Of course, he could also be trying to bait you to a place that isn’t his room. Either way, none of this will happen, because unfortunately for him, the four of you are smarter and better organized than he thinks.

“Perfect,” Caleb quips with a clap of his hands. “Let’s play a little game. For everything we find that you haven’t given to us, we get to have some fun. Definition of fun is arbitrary, of course.”

… Looks like he’s taking Levi’s demand to make these men suffer quite seriously.

Herman’s demeanor doesn’t change, but Friedrich shudders visibly.

Caleb takes this as a cue to start his search. Shifting your attention to Herman, you do the same. The man is wearing a long grey coat, finely tailored and made of what you suspect is pure wool. Beneath it, he’s wearing a cream-white cashmere blouse. His black trousers match the color of his leather black shoes, and while those pants sure look soft, you’re not really looking forward to groping the man’s butt.

You take a step closer and start with the outer pockets of his coat, getting hit with the scent of tobacco, alcohol, and heavy cologne in the process.

He glances down at you with a sly smile. “Honey, you may want to check my underwear for this one, might have forgotten a couple of banknotes there.” His breath reeks of alcohol.

You don’t hesitate. You take a step back and launch your boot into his balls with full force.

The moment your shoe hits his crotch, a loud guttural cry echoes through the alleyway.

“Didn’t hear any paper rustling there, I think we’re good,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, while he graces your ears with the sound of his miserable cry.

Gritting his teeth, he mumbles a range of curses, including something along the lines of "Filthy whore."

Noah forcefully pulls the man’s head back by the hair and tightens his grip on his knife. “What was that?” he hisses.

Herman grinds his teeth in pain. When he doesn’t answer, Noah looks at you, a smile creeping across his face. “May have heard it wrong, but I think he said there might still be some cash down there. I’m afraid you’ll have to check again,” he singsongs to you.

Your lips curl up into a smile too. You shift your weight to one leg and launch your foot into Herman’s crotch with even more brute force than before. An agonizing scream tears out of his throat as he collapses in Noah’s grip. The sound echoes through the entire alleyway, making the robbery feel even more brutal than it is. Trying to stand on his shaking legs, Herman growls through his teeth.

“No rustling again, how unfortunate,” you quip.

You briefly glance sideways at Paul and Caleb, who are watching the scene unfold with amusement.

Ignoring Herman’s groaning and whimpering, you continue your search and go through all his pockets, slipping your hands over the silk lining of his jacket. After a rather quick search, you find his wallet deep inside a hidden pocket of his coat.

“Well well, look at what we got here,” you beam as you fish it out and hold it in the air for everyone to see. “What were you saying again? You left it in your room?”

Noah looks at the treasure with a wide grin. The leather wallet is heavy and full. A couple of banknotes are peeping out, begging to be taken. You flip the wallet open, doing a quick search through the contents.

"Well look at that," you mock. "Identification papers and your permit for a little Underground trip. Would be a shame if you lost those, wouldn't it? I sure can't leave this district without the right documents." 

In contrast to Noah, Herman looks at you like he wants to burn you alive and flush your ashes through a toilet. His cheeks are flushed in anger as he stares at you with a clenched jaw, tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. It gives you a sickening satisfaction, something you might have to reflect on later.

“Well done, let me check properly as well,” Caleb behind you proposes with an alarmingly innocent voice, “Would be a shame if we missed something.”

You turn around and watch as he reaches for Friedrich’s pants. Without an inch of mercy, he twists his crotch, knuckles turning white from the force he’s exerting.

Friedrich cries out at the top of his lungs and struggles aggressively, but Paul holds him firmly in place. When Caleb lets go, the man buckles through his knees, wheezing and sobbing pitifully, his face contorted in deep pain. You’re not sure whether you should be highly satisfied or mildly disturbed by all the vengeance and aggression that is occurring here. Being in a group really brings an unsettling amount of power, it’s no wonder gangs around the city tend to be so vicious and dangerous. This group power really gives you the impression you can do whatever you desire without any consequences.

Caleb isn’t at all fazed by Friedrichs cries. He cocks his head, regarding the pitiful sight in front of him with disgust. “Unless you fuckers want to get castrated a second time, I suggest your weak, snobby asses stay safely above ground from now on.” 

“Oh don’t scare 'em off,” Paul interjects with a grin. “As long as we can hunt these boys down, they’re welcome here.”

Friedrich lets out another sob, making you feel mildly sorry for him for a fraction of a second.

But then, an image of the distressed woman you saw earlier flashes through again. From one moment to the other, you switch from mild pity to anger and satisfaction. Maybe two wrongs do make a right. You don’t need to see how Herman and Friedrich have mistreated people down here to know the boys must be giving them everything they deserve. Levi’s dark tone at the hideout was enough proof of what kind of monsters these two men must be. They’re probably even worse than the average pigs down here. 

Caleb turns to you. “Is that wallet the only thing you found?”

You nod.

He shrugs. “One prize for you then. The choices are infinite, I’d personally go for a few good kicks and punches in Herman’s face and balls, looks like he could use it.”

You eye the man in question, who looks at you with hateful eyes and a panting chest.

You could go for violence.

… or …

“See, I’ve been on the hunt for fabrics lately, and those clothes do look expensive…”

Paul barks out a laugh. “Humiliation huh? I like it. Heard that, Herman? The tables are finally turning. Clothes off.”

The man narrows his eyes, but after a few moments of silence, he obliges and takes his coat off. All the while, Noah’s knife never leaves his throat.

When he hands it over, you glance down at his shoes.

“Take those off too,” you order. You glance at Noah. “They might look pretty with that one you stole.”

Noah snorts. “You have the greatest ideas.” He shifts his attention to the man he’s holding. “Come on,” he ushers. “Shoes off. We don’t have all fucking day.”

Herman curses in his mouth, but when Noah presses the blade more tightly against his skin, he hastily obliges and takes his shoes off, leaving him in a pair of white socks on the dirty cobblestones. Unfortunately for him, pieces of broken glass are scattered over the entire alley, making this quite an inconvenience for him. His face is red – from fury or from shame, you’re not sure.

You give him a once over. “Shirt and pants off too.”

“You can’t be serious…”

“Does it look like I’m joking? Clothing fabric is scarce around here.”

Herman stares at his friend with an expression filled with fury and helplessness. You’d lie if you said it wasn’t highly amusing.

“Good thing we threw all their clothes away too,” Caleb singsongs all too happily. Unsurprisingly, happy tones truly sound eerie on him.

Paul bursts into laughter. “Was that your call?”

 “What do you think?”

The confused lines on Herman’s features tell you he might not exactly comprehend what is going on. Luckily, you’re generous enough to clarify.

“Room eight, wasn’t it?” you ask him.

One moment, the man is slack-jawed. The other, his face turns as red as a damn tomato. It looks like a vein might pop out of his forehead any moment from now. “You fucking-“

“Shh, be careful with your words there, Herman.” Noah hushes mockingly.

Caleb huffs. "Oh, did we forget to mention we found the copies of both your identification papers and permits too? Smart thing to have a copy hidden inside a safe, but no lock is actually safe with this boy around," he says while jerking his head towards Noah.

Paul sneers into laughter. “So they have nothing left? No money and no documents?"

"And no clothes either," you add.

Herman bawls his hands into fists, but manages to keep his control, though you suspect his last crumbs of restraint are hanging by a thread.

Noah cocks his head, putting his mouth closer to the man's ear. “What? You expect to come down here treating people like pests, without the favor being returned? You should thank us for the humbling experience, that fucking arrogance of yours needs it.”

Herman’s face is contorted in vicious disgust. “You’ll pay for this,” he hisses.

“The opposite, actually. We’re getting paid for this. Now shut the fuck up and take your clothes off.”

When Herman doesn’t answer, Noah lets out a deep sigh. Then, he starts slowly sliding his knife over Herman’s throat, piercing his skin right below his Adam's apple.

The man gasps for air as a thick droplet of blood travels down his skin. “F-fine, I’ll do it!” His voice is an octave higher than before.

He takes his pants and shirt off with haste. Left in nothing but boxer briefs and dirty socks, he hands his clothes over to you with a grimace.

“Look at you,” Noah whispers mockingly, “A good look for when you’ll walk back to your completely emptied room.”

Herman shuts his eyes in rage, but doesn’t respond. Next to you, Paul snorts.

“Well, that was entertaining,” Caleb muses as he resumes his search through Friedrichs pockets. After mere seconds, he fishes something out.

“Knew you were lying.”

“B-But that’s just a pen-”

“We’re poor roaches from the Underground, think we can’t make use of that? Or do you think none of us can write?”

“W-Wait, Please, I’m begging you, I didn’t know- I-”

Caleb turns pensive. “You know what? I’m feeling generous today. I’m willing to make a deal.”

A slight hint of relief relaxes Friedrich’s features.

But not for long.

“We visit every single woman you’ve abused down here, then you get on your knees and apologize to them. Only if they decide to forgive you, I’ll let you go without breaking your bones.”

Friedrich freezes, staring at Caleb in shock.

The latter continues, completely unbothered. “For starters, I remember you beating and dragging an escort in the middle of the road while she was crying – black curls, red corset, and bruises you inflicted. You then threw her to the ground and left her there. You remember? Cause I do. She better be on the fucking list too. If our leader was there, and he had some time on his hands for once, he would’ve happily killed you. I would’ve done the favor in his place if I didn’t have immediate shit to attend to, so consider yourself lucky. There are a fuckton of repulsive pests like you down here, but reasons more to thin your population out.”

Friedrich’s mouth opens, but no words come out, too shocked and terrified to formulate a sentence. The sight disgusts you. Whatever happens, Herman and Friedrich truly deserve every bit of pain and suffering coming their way.

Caleb quips a brow. “Well?”

“I… I don’t remember their names.”

“You don’t even remember the names of the people you traumatize? That’s impolite.”

Friedrich wants to respond, but he’s met with a brutal punch in the face instead. He gasps and groans, holding his bruised cheek as he tries to recover from the shock.

“You damn animals!” Herman hisses furiously.

Caleb ignores him completely. “Looking like a scared puppy won’t help you here, Friedrich. It sure as hell didn’t cause you to back off on those girls.”

Friedrich looks up at Caleb, after which a second brutal punch is thrown at him, right in the nose this time. A nauseating cracking noise assaults your ears, tearing a gurgling sound out of Friedrich’s throat. Caleb doesn’t even give the man the time to gasp for air, and kicks him hard in the stomach. Then, a merciless kick in the crotch.

Herman struggles in Noah’s arms. “Is THAT what the fuck this is about?! You’re avenging some filthy worthless whores? What the hell is wrong with y-“

Before he can finish his sentence, he’s kicked in the back of his legs, making him buckle and crash down to his knees. Noah forces Herman to look up at him, holding his hair in a vice-like grip.

“Unfortunately for you, some of us are sons of whores, so you might want to shut that fucking mouth before Caleb actually cuts your tongue out,” Noah grunts darkly.

On his face is an expression you've never seen on him before. A few brown wavy strands fall over his face, partly covering his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes as he holds Herman down.

You hold your breath, not having expected Noah to snap. Before this, you could barely even imagine he could get this angry, even though you’ve only just met him.

You’re starting to feel like this runs much deeper than you had initially thought. For Noah, possibly for Caleb, maybe even for Levi – you don’t know. However, it seems this whole ordeal isn’t just about general human justice – it’s much more personal than that.

Herman huffs out a bitter laugh as he looks up at Noah. “Of course you’re a son of a whore. What? Did you cry like a bitch whenever your mom came home, covered with bruises after spreading her legs all day? It’s her own fault for being a filthy prostitute.”

Something in Noah’s expression shifts completely, an unsettling darkness clouding his eyes.

A beat of silence passes.

Two beats.

Then, Herman’s head is slammed face-first into the brick wall. You barely have time to register the streak of blood left behind, when Noah hurls him to the ground. Herman tries to crawl back up, but he’s kicked hard in the ribs.

Then again. And again. And again. The sound of Herman gasping, coughing, and groaning fills the air as Noah continues with no signs of stopping.

Paul and Caleb share a concerned look. Judging by their expressions, this isn’t a normal occurrence for him. Paul frowns at his friend, silently asking if he should intervene, but Caleb shakes his head.

“You should get FUCKING castrated,” Noah growls before stomping on the man’s crotch with full force.

The gargling groan that echoes as a consequence, sounds so agonizing that even you can’t help but wince.

“Friedrich,” Caleb says calmly to the shuddering mess Paul is holding, as if someone isn’t getting beaten right in front of his eyes. “I have to ask. Is your buddy a sadomasochist?”

Unsurprisingly, Friedrich is unable to answer, too shocked by the sight before him.

You can’t blame him. Noah isn’t stopping; he lifts Herman up by the throat, and punches him on his bloodied nose. Then, a brutal kick in the back, in the ribs, in the stomach.

An uncontrollable rage is unleashed, one that is visibly laced in countless layers of trauma and scars from the past. It’s unclear whether he’s even capable of stopping in this state, considering he’s most likely not even seeing Herman in front of him anymore, but rather haunting images from the past.

“It’s always scum like you,” he grunts while giving the man another kick in the stomach. Herman is lying in a fetal position, trying to protect his face. The fact he’s only wearing boxer briefs makes the sight even more unsettling than it already is.

“Noah,” you start.

He doesn’t hear you.

Bracing yourself for the worst, you approach him. “Noah, hey,”

He still doesn’t hear you.

It’s only when you place your hand on his shoulder, that he freezes.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. Unsure of what to expect, you gently try to turn him over. To your surprise, he doesn’t resist.

The moment your eyes meet, your chest tightens. He’s breathing heavily, jaw clenched and eyes reddened. Not only reddened, but glassy, with tears threatening to spill at any moment. He looks furious and distressed, but also entirely helpless and lost. Heartbroken, as if he’s been transported away from all of you to a much darker place. The raw sorrow and grief in his eyes make something heavy drop to the bottom of your stomach.

If there was a way to console him for whatever memories are flashing through his mind, you would, but you don’t know how to. You don’t know him well enough for that.

A pitiful whimper comes out of Herman, adding to the darkness of the situation.

“Well,” Caleb begins, clearing his throat. “That was cheerful. Friedrich, got anything else to say?”

Friedrich doesn’t seem able to react. Caleb sighs, tears the man out of Paul’s hands, and gives him one final vicious punch on his already broken nose, making the man cry out in pain.

“For the solidarity,” Caleb grumbles as he harshly pushes him to the ground next to Herman. “If one of you ever comes down here again, you’re fucking dead. You hear me?”

Paul gives the men on the ground a last glance as he puts his knife away. “I think we did well enough, let’s go. Levi is waiting.” He looks at Noah for a second, hidden worry in his eyes. 

Caleb nods and briefly looks at Noah, biting his jaw. Not even sparing Herman and Friedrich a last glance, he walks off without saying another word.

You take a deep breath and give Paul the clothes in your hand, which he silently stuffs in the bag with a pained expression. After a brief moment of hesitation, you walk over to Noah. He’s standing still, staring down at Herman. The man is bloodied and shaking, curled up into a ball. When you glance at Noah's face, it’s clear he isn’t actually looking at him. He seems to be somewhere else entirely, staring into the void.

You press your lips together, unsure how to approach this situation. Unsure of what to expect from him in general. Putting a gentle hand on his arm, you shake him back to reality. “Hey, you coming?”

He turns to you as if he only just noticed you. After a few seconds, he nods. His eyes are filled with a range of emotions you can’t quite decipher, but he remains silent.

The three of you quietly catch up to Caleb. As you all walk together, the only sound filling the air is your own footsteps on the cobblestones. None of you are in a mood to talk, so instead, you remain quiet as you walk back to the hideout, a sorrowful air between the four of you.

As you get further away from the richer area of the east, your surroundings shift accordingly. The buildings change from new-looking, to old and damaged. The painted layers on the walls peel off and are covered in mold again, with ugly cracks getting seemingly bigger as you get deeper into the slums. Many buildings are on the verge of collapsing, and it becomes increasingly rarer to find windows that aren’t broken and covered in dust. While the area you visited in the east smelled like opium, cologne, and liquor, the only things you smell here are piss, beer, sewage, and the overall stench of the slums. Trash and broken crates litter the streets, while puddles of mud and sewage water splash under your shoes. You’re hit with a sudden urge to be home again, safe and sound, protected from all the filth and dangers of humanity. Truly, switching back to the typical impoverished areas of the city is depressing as hell, and you wonder what all the outsiders who visit the east would think if they’d actually walk into the real areas of the Underground. 

Although you spent only a few hours there, you almost got used to the people in that area; the richer citizens of the Underground combined with wealthy people from above. No torn clothes, no beggars, no disease-ridden streets and dangerous stares, just finely trimmed mustaches and drunken smiles. This is in sharp contrast to the people you’re passing by now; groups of men silently stare at you with bitter expressions and daggers on their belts, famished beggars in filthy clothes rest against ruined buildings, and groups of young boys are sitting on the trash ridden ground, fighting or daring each other to play The Knife Game.

As you get closer to the hideout, however, your environment becomes slightly less somber. Though Levi’s gang is by no means situated in the richer parts of the Underground, they don’t live in the most impoverished neighborhoods of the city either. In this side of the city, the stench is more bearable, the streets are livelier, and fewer buildings look like complete ruins. There are more businesses also, with lively taverns and small brothels present on every few streets. When you walk past said brothels, it hits you how staggering the difference is compared to the east: no charming smiles, enchanting dances, or gorgeous corsets. This is what you’re used to; women in more plain looking dresses standing and smoking near the entrance of the establishments, some wearing an alluring expression, but many not bothered to hide their distaste for the job. 

Your mind immediately shifts to Noah, and you can’t help but imagine his own mother standing here. You feel a painful twist inside when you think about his words and his tear-filled eyes from earlier. While Paul and Caleb next to you have started conversing again as if nothing happened, Noah is silently stalling behind.

After some internal debates, you decide to join him.

“Hey, are you alright?” you ask carefully.

“Yeah…” He shifts his gaze away from you. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I don’t know what happened, I just…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”

He manages a thin, pained smile.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether it’s appropriate to breach on a delicate topic, but wanting to understand. “Were you… the only one for who this was personal?”

He shakes his head and glances at Caleb and Paul, who are too many steps away to hear your conversation. “Caleb too.”

You nod, not daring to ask further.

“His sister,” Noah elaborates after a brief moment of silence. “But don’t bring her up around him, she got murdered by a client of hers five years ago. I don’t think Caleb will ever find peace with it. But for some reason, he always manages to restrain himself around people like those two fucks from earlier. He loves to make them suffer, and he’ll take his form of vengeance whenever he can, but he’s never had an uncontrollable outburst.”

His eyes shift to you, an apologetic tinge in them. “I swear I don’t normally either, but- I don’t know. I think it was a combination of many things.” He lets out a long sigh, gaze drifting away. “He looked like one of the clients my mom used to have. I know it wasn’t him, but when he spewed that vile shit, it just felt like it. It felt so... real.”

You swallow, feeling that tight feeling in your chest again. “I’m so sorry you had to be reminded of that, I really am.”

“It’s alright,” he mutters. “I wish I didn’t let him get to me. Not that he deserved my mercy, but I don’t want to be that crazy fuck with uncontrollable anger issues. That would just make me… like them. I’m not, and I don’t want you to think I am.”

He pauses for a moment and sighs. “I don’t even truly feel better now. I guess vengeance really doesn’t fix much.” He briefly glances at you, before drifting his gaze away again. “But I guess even though this didn’t save my mom, chances are that if those two somehow manage to get out of here alive, they won’t be tempted to come down here again to ruin other people. Counts for something, I guess.” His voice is somber and low.

“It does, and Herman deserved every single hit. Don’t let it eat away at you, I know you’re not a crazy mess – as far as I can tell at least.” You take a deep breath. “And honestly, I can relate to losing control on someone like him. I feel like it’s almost inevitable. It's bound to happen at one point.”

He turns his head to look at you. "How did you feel? When you lost control?"

Your mind drifts to your own experiences from the past, to times you were in a dark place, felt angry and miserable, and expressed that through excessive violence during your robberies. There’s an addictive edge to it, one that worries you more often than you’d like to admit. Back when you were still in your early teenage years, you were so used to being the one who was afraid and in danger, that the first time you were the person holding a grown man at knifepoint as he begged you for mercy, it was alarmingly euphoric. That satisfaction when inflicting pain and fear on people you thought deserved it never went away. In fact, it got worse over the years. You got more confident in your abilities, more skilled, you stopped hiding in boyish attires and started sewing prettier clothing, but along with that confidence came also a stronger desire to overpower the ones who had repressed you during your life. To hurt the ones who hurt, because you were finally powerful enough to do so. It has always scared you deep down, because as much as you hate admitting it, you recognize in that behavior the same evil that roams the streets: vengefulness and lust for power. It’s a trap many people fall into, leading to increasingly darker and more vicious crimes.

You vividly remember the first time you lost control and went overboard. Gary told you about a slumlord who got a family murdered because they couldn’t pay rent. The only one who was spared was a little boy, a son who lost his parents and sister. The anger you felt was visceral - probably because the whole thing hit close to home. You remember the way the man’s skin tore under your knife, while he was crying for you to stop. You remember how alarmingly addictive it was to increase the pain, to a point you never wanted it to end. That was the first time you felt a true hunger to kill. You didn’t do it, but after the event, you were scared shitless of your own self. You wondered: does that satisfaction truly only stem from a sense of justice, or do you just love the power of looking into the fearful begging eyes of people you want to harm. Because if it’s the latter, that’s highly fucking alarming, considering that means you slice skin with the same emotions and intentions as those vile creatures across the city.

It wasn’t the last time you went too far either. Sometimes, it wasn’t even entirely justified. There’s no point in lying: every time, it was an outlet for frustrations, which you labeled as heroism. Vengeance for the people, retribution for what these criminals have done. Maybe you weren’t wrong about the 'retribution' aspect of it, these people deserve whatever comes to them, but that doesn’t change the fact that you were the one losing control, in a similar way Noah just did. In a similar way the vilest scum in the city always do. Causing harm is a dangerous slippery slope, no matter if the initial intention is a good one.

Then always comes the fear: ‘Am I losing myself? Am I getting desensitized? Am I starting to get controlled by anger and bitterness, until I eventually become like those monsters around the city? Am I starting to make up excuses to be excessively violent?’

You look at Noah, not even sure how to answer his question. ‘How did you feel? When you lost control?’ You don’t even know yourself.

So that’s what you tell him. “I’m not sure.”

He looks at you, eyes softening. “It’s a mix of many things, isn’t it?”

You nod. “There's some satisfaction, coming from that feeling of vengeance, justice, heroism and whatnot. But honestly, I always feel disturbed. I start questioning myself and wondering if I’m losing my mind. Sometimes there’s also a part of me that pities the people I hurt, which is stupid because they’ve usually done much worse.”

Noah shakes his head. “It’s not stupid. It’s probably how it’s supposed to be." He sighs. "I struggle with that self-doubt too. I don’t mind terrorizing the city a little. I like giving people what they deserve, but it’s the unplanned, uncontrolled part that gets me. I don’t want to lose myself and become… like those people, you know?”

You look at him, catching the soft green of his eyes. “You’re not. We’re not like them at all.” You’re not sure you believe your words entirely, but you need to hear them as much as Noah does.

The faintest smile of relief catches at his lips, and he nods. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The silence that follows is surprisingly comfortable. You didn’t expect a vulnerable exchange like this on your first day, but it feels good. You never really talk about these issues to anyone. Luna would be worried if you always told her about your risky missions. Since she's been together with Finn, who makes a relatively decent income working at a successful tavern, she doesn't steal half as much as she used to when she was younger. Even at a young age, the danger of her missions was minimal. You discouraged her to do anything riskier than robbing some harmless merchants. The last thing you wanted was for her to be in danger, and to see all the brutalities you had to see whenever you had to leave the safety and comfort of your home. 

It feels oddly freeing to be able to talk about this to someone who seems to understand you. You can’t even remember the last time you opened up to someone this way. When you were a child, heart to hearts with people outside of your family were rare since you had to hide how you lived. When your parents were gone, it was mainly your mistrust that stopped you from getting close to people. So this is… a surprisingly nice change, though you’ll have to be careful not to get too comfortable.

After a few moments of silence, you glance at Caleb. Your heart suddenly aches for the man, something you didn’t expect would happen today at all.

“Does he have any other family?” you ask.

Noah shakes his head. “He became an orphan when he was a kid, his sister was the only family he had.” He stares forward, looking lost in thought. “But we’re all like family to each other, so in a sense, the answer to your question is yes.”

You nod, after which the both of you remain silent for a few moments.

Herman and Friedrich enter your thoughts, and you can’t help but wonder. “What about Levi?”

Noah casts you a brief look. “What do you mean?”

“Just… the way he talked about Herman and Friedrich – I can’t help but feel like all of this runs deeper for him too.”

Noah nods pensively. “Maybe it does, but none of us know why. Levi is extremely closed off, never talks about himself or his past, so I can’t tell you much about that.”

You frown, wondering what has made him so detached. You may be closed off too, but that’s mainly because you just don’t incorporate people into your life at all. Levi, on the other hand, has been around these men for a few years. Is he even close to someone, like Furlan maybe? Or does truly no one know anything about him? Will you ever know anything about him? Or will you stay hidden in the dark, like everyone else?

“So tell me,” Noah says interrupting the surge of questions in your mind, “How’d you find your first mission, overall?”

You chuckle a little. “It was… Interesting? Fun? Also a little fucked up?”

Noah snorts humorlessly. “You could say that.” He turns to you, eyes apologetic. “It doesn’t always get this dark, I promise.”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Besides, I’m just glad we got these two what they deserved. I don’t think they’ll come back down here ever again if they manage to get out, which is better for everyone.”

Noah lights up a little, a tiny smile forming on his face. “It is. One sack of shit at the time.”

You snort at that. “One sack of shit at the time indeed.”

Chapter Text

After a long walk, you and the boys finally arrive at the hideout. Paul knocks on the front door, and after a few seconds, Levi opens up. His eyes sweep over the four of you before he quietly lets you all inside. 

“Mission was successful, as always,” Paul tells Levi proudly. He thoroughly wipes his shoes on the doormat.

“That so?” Levi answers in a non-committal tone while all of you gather near the table at the back of the room.

He looks down at the bloated bag in Paul’s hands with a frown. “Now what the fuck is in there?”

“Oh, almost forgot.” Paul opens the bag and takes out all of Herman’s clothes: his long coat, cashmere blouse, trousers, and shoes. With an amused smile, he hands the heap of clothes over to you, which earns you a raised brow from Levi.

“She wanted to undress Herman,” Noah elaborates, which is not helping.

“Oh shut it,” you grumble while giving him a playful shove.

Already feeling the strain in your arms, you momentarily put the heap of clothes on the couch behind you.

Levi leans back on the table as he watches you. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“I’ve been looking for new clothing fabric lately,” you explain with a shrug. “Herman happened to wear some good quality stuff, and he deserved the humiliation. So now he’s got no clothes left, thanks to them also,” you nod in Noah’s and Caleb’s direction. “They took all of their clothes when they broke into their room.”

Levi's lips twitch, eyes stuck on you. “Gave him a shitty day, huh?”

Caleb huffs dryly. “Real shitty. She and Noah also made sure he won’t be sticking his dick in anything any time soon.”

Levi lifts a questioning brow.

“Permanent damage down there, probably,” Paul explains with a smug smile as he gives Levi the bag of goods.

As Levi takes it, his gaze travels to you, a hidden hue of amusement appearing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You’re not sure whether you should laugh or cry, but Paul sure as hell seems to find this funny. Hiding a laugh behind his hand, he shifts his attention to Caleb. “You weren’t so bad yourself either. Friedrich will probably be crying himself to sleep the next coming weeks. Broken nose, a good dose of nightmares, and pretty sure you might as well have castrated him.”

“I hope so,” Caleb grumbles. “Still can’t believe the fucking coward thought puppy eyes would get him spared.”

Noah smiles proudly as he looks at Levi, like a son looking for his father’s validation. “We completely emptied their room and we took their documents of citizenship. They’ll probably manage to get back up somehow, but it might take a little while. In the meantime, they have no money and Herman has nothing but boxer briefs and one pair of socks.”

Levi huffs. “Can’t say I’m disappointed. Little pricks like them can’t survive a day down here without cash.” He pauses for a moment. “How did you get into their rooms?” 

Paul gives your head a soft ruffle. “She came up with the plan.”

Grey eyes shift to you. “Oh really?”

Noah nods with a smile. “She talked with the receptionist, managed to get the room number somehow, and made a scene with Paul to distract everyone. So no guards on Caleb and I, and since she read the room number out loud, we knew where to go.”

Levi tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers while he watches you, pose relaxed. “How did you convince the receptionist? I know they can’t give their lodgers away.”

“I had to play with his mind a little,” you admit. “I pretended that I thought my fiancé —" you nod towards Paul “— was cheating on me and staying at that inn, so I begged him to confirm it. Figured playing on pity, but also on his frustration for the outsiders, would work. I mean, I’m sure he feels powerless looking at all the people going back outside every day while he can’t. So me looking pathetically helpless, and giving him the power to ruin my ‘happy little marriage’ gave him the power trip and vengeance he needed. And, well, a little description of the beautiful life outside that my cheating fiancé left behind also did wonders. Really made him want to snitch and ruin it all.”

The barest hint of a smile forms on Levi’s lips as he gives you a once-over. “Smart girl.”

Suddenly, your top priority shifts from doing-well-to-prove-Levi-wrong, to doing-well-for-his-validation.

His eyes linger on you for a few seconds longer before he turns around and places the stolen goods on the table.

“Well done,” he says. “I’ll ask Jan and Elias to sell the goods, then Furlan will do the counting. Your shares will be given to you in a few days as always. One last thing, come all by tomorrow at four, and tell the others too.”

“Everyone?” Caleb asks.

“Everyone.”

The guys look at each other in slight astonishment and curiosity, but no further explanation is given.

“Now go get some rest,” Levi orders with a lazy wave of his hand.

With a quiet cheer, Noah turns around and walks towards the front door, his somber mood from earlier buried away deep. “Let’s go boys and girls, we should celebrate!”

“I think I’m gonna take a nap, actually,” Caleb states with bored eyes.

“No you’re not,” Paul retorts. He loops his arm around Caleb’s, and drags him to the front door. “Don't be boring. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Caleb rolls his eyes and groans in irritation, but to your utter surprise, he lets himself get pulled away by his friend.

Just as you’re about to join, Levi calls your name. You turn around, and watch as he beckons you over with one finger. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

A spark of anticipation forms inside your stomach, and you nod. “Sure.” 

“We’re going to the bar across the street,” Noah calls behind you. “Join us whenever you want!”

The door shuts, filling the air with silence. After watching you for a second longer, Levi gets up from the table and walks towards the kitchenette. “Tea?”

“You sure? You don’t have to—“

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to,” he interrupts dryly. 

You huff, a faint smile catching your lips. “Alright. Won’t say no to that, then.”

“The water’s still pretty warm anyway, won’t take too long to heat it up.” He takes the kettle that is already on the stove, and adds a little more water. 

You hesitantly take a seat at the table behind him and glance around the room. Everything is as tidied and clean as usual. For some reason, it makes you feel at ease. You never really felt this way about the hideout before, but that is probably because you were too busy being terrorized by Levi’s existence. But things are different now. Although this place is old and damaged like most constructions in this city, with white paint peeling off the walls and the furniture looking aged and worn, the room still brings an odd sense of comfort due to it being impressively clean. Maybe it’s comforting because dangerous places tend to be the complete opposite of this room: filthy and messy. Just like the slums you had to walk through earlier. It’s a relieving contrast.

“So tell me, how was it?” Levi asks as he puts the kettle on the stove. He turns around and leans on the counter behind him as he watches you.

You hesitate for a moment. “I mean, Noah pretty much explained everything.“

Levi huffs dryly. “That was a vague summary at best. I want details, and I want to hear them from you. How did it go with the guys, specifically?”

“It was… interesting,” you start. Quickly realizing that might have sounded too unenthusiastic, you continue. “It was surprisingly fun at first, actually. I’ve never worked in a group like this, and it was so… different. Committing robberies on my own can be fun, but it’s mostly pure adrenaline: if I make one wrong move, I’m done for. But here I knew we had each other’s backs. I was still careful, of course, and I still have to get used to the lack of control when working with others, but I kinda liked it.”

Your mind darts towards Noah, struggling to hold a laugh during your acting shenanigans, and towards Paul, bursting into laughter when both of you got kicked out of the inn. At these thoughts, you can’t help but crack a little smile. “Got a good laugh out of it too.”

Levi’s eyes rest attentively on you. Instead of replying, he nods slowly, his silence coaxing you to go on.

“Teamwork went well, as far as I can tell," you continue. "We went to the inn, and brainstormed plans to rob their rooms. The decision was made pretty quickly, and the whole thing went according to plan. It was pretty fun, with Noah and Paul.”

“Noah and Paul,” he repeats in a murmur.

You know exactly what he’s getting at. “Yeah, well, Caleb, he uh … how do I say this… “

“Just spill it already.”

“A little intimidating, and doesn’t make me feel the most welcome and at ease. I’m praying he won’t slit my throat in my sleep tonight.”

For the briefest second, slight amusement tugs at the corners of his lips. “That bad?”

“I might be exaggerating. But still, don’t tell him what I just said. Not in the mood to get skinned alive.” 

Levi shrugs lazily. “He’ll come around. He’s skeptical in general, but he’s not a bad guy. He just needs to get used to you, and vice versa.”

“But he also has every reason to dislike me.”

“He does,” Levi states matter-of-factly, “but that doesn’t mean he necessarily dislikes you as much as you think. He approved of your plan, didn’t he?”

“How’d you know?”

“The plan wouldn’t have gone through if Caleb was against it. He never caves to authority or someone else’s will. Well, unless he deeply respects or likes the person.”

You tilt your head a little. “What about your authority?”

“As I said, if he respects someone, he listens.”

“Always?”

He shrugs. “Pretty much.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, until the water comes to a boil. Levi takes the kettle off the stove and retrieves a small hourglass from one of the cabinets. He flips it over, and while the sand slowly trickles down, he puts a small tin box and a tea infuser on the counter. His focus is entirely on his task as he places a pouch of tea leaves into the infuser with careful hands. He hesitates for a moment, narrows his eyes a little, and adds a small additional pinch.

“I’ve never seen anyone being so careful and precise when making tea,” you tell him.

“This shit isn’t exactly easy to get our hands on. If we’re going to drink it, we better do it properly.”

You can’t help but smile at the importance he puts on such a small thing. Not that you can’t relate: with the way things are, comfort can only be found in the smaller things in life. You mentally put this on the meager list of everything you know about Levi. One sentence on a pretty empty page: likes tea, and is adamant about it being well brewed.

Thinking back about what he told you about Caleb, you also add: tames the untamable.

The moment the last grain of sand trickles down, Levi puts the tea infuser in a teapot. As he adds hot water, a soft mixture of lavender and chamomile fills the air, making your muscles slowly relax.

“The calming tea type?” you muse.

“More of a black tea type, actually.” There’s a hint of dry irony in his tone. Both of you know all too well being picky about tea flavors isn’t a luxury either of you can afford.

He turns around while the tea steeps, his eyes scanning over you as if he’s looking for something. “There’s something else, isn’t there? Something happened.”

“Attentive,” you note, to which he doesn’t answer. You shrug with a sigh. “It’s nothing worth mentioning, really. Herman is a jackass, and he spat out the wrong things. And, well, that wasn’t taken well, and he got exactly what he deserved.”

“But?”

“There’s no but.”

“I don’t believe you." He cocks his head. "Something’s bothering you.”

You shift in your seat. “Not at all, actually. Not sure what you’re on about.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just insult my intelligence.”

You narrow your eyes. “I can’t possibly be that obvious.”

Levi sighs. “Just fucking spill it already.”

Silence.

He taps his fingers on the counter behind him. “Today better than tomorrow, runt.”

“Fine,” you relent. Your attention shifts to a loose thread of your shirt. “It was a bit unsettling, I guess. Rage suddenly took over near the end, and things took a darker turn. It got a little out of hand.”

“Noah?”

Your eyes snap to him. “Yeah, why? Does he often lose control?”

“Almost never, actually,” he says as he turns around and takes out two mugs from one of the cabinets. He puts them on the table and leans back on the kitchenette with crossed arms. “But I noticed something was off about him. When he’s distressed, he tries to overcompensate with cheerfulness to hide it.”

“I suspected the same,” you mutter. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. Herman had it coming.”

“So what bothers you? Didn’t think you shied away from violence. Not when it’s deserved.”

“I don’t — not really. It’s not really about Herman. Like I said, the jackass got exactly what he deserved. But… I don’t know, something about this mission made me feel strange. It’s not like it was just some random street violence, those things barely phase me anymore. But the violence came from people I was trying to connect with, people I can actually see a bit of myself in.”

You let out a quiet sigh as you absent-mindedly trace your fingers over the table surface. “And well, when Noah’s emotions suddenly got the best of him and he lost it, it was a little unnerving to see. Maybe because it’s happened to me too, and it's scary to witness from the outside. Makes me wonder how I looked, you know? But the worst was just how sad it was to watch him like that. He looked so devastated, and I just really felt for him—“ 

You stop in your tracks. Was that too sensitive? Are you revealing too much? You look up from the table, watching Levi’s eyes on you. His gaze is fixed and calculating, as if he’s trying to dismantle you entirely. You drift your eyes away, fearful he’ll be able to pull all your vulnerabilities from them if you look at him for too long.

You dismissively wave your words off. “Forget what I said, I’m just rambling,”

“No, go on,” he murmurs softly. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

You look at him with hesitation, contemplating whether you should trust him enough to be honest about your emotions. But the gentle tone of his voice does something to you. He’s never been this caringly attentive before, and somehow, his calm silence coaxes you to go on.

“It’s not just the outburst. I think something bothered me before that, too. Especially now that it’s all sinking in,” you admit hesitantly. “Usually, when people are dangerous, I can just slap a mental label on them and call them brutes. People to stay away from and never connect with. I mean, if I didn’t know Noah, Paul, and Caleb, and saw them from afar, beating two men up, I would’ve given them exactly that label: 'Dangerous fucks to stay away from, like every other man in this cursed city.’”

“And rightfully so,” Levi agrees with a shrug.

“Yeah, but obviously I can’t do that now, and I don’t want to. I want to connect with them, and I know they aren’t brutes, but my brain tells me not to trust men with knives and sadistic smiles. Actually, no. My brain is just confused as hell. One moment, they’re smiling, being nice to me, talking about their little band, and laughing. The next, they’re holding sharp knives against people’s throats, making sadistic jokes, and beating people up until they’re all bloodied and shaking on the ground. Not that I wasn’t entertained during most of the mission, and I worked along, but it was still weird to have people like this being on my side instead of being my enemies. I always stay away from people who can be dangerous, so… I can’t help but feel like I should raise my guards.”

Levi tilts his head a little as he studies you. “So basically, they’re like you, they have two opposite sides, and now you don’t know how to trust them.”

You frown. “No, well, yes, I… yeah, I guess. You’re right,” you admit. “But that’s a pretty quick conclusion. You’ve only seen one part of me, haven’t you? The violence.”

“No,” he says quietly, “I’ve seen you laugh and smile too.”

You briefly open your mouth to say something in return, but no words come to mind. Instead, a strange feeling courses through you. When did you even do that in front of him? Does he remember your smile or the sound of your laugh? The idea that such an image might be imprinted in his mind, is just—

He breaks eye contact and turns around, grabbing the teapot behind him. You shift your attention to your mug, tracing your fingers across the handle and hoping you don’t have to look Levi in the eyes again. Not when you’re impacted by something so ridiculously insignificant.  

Calm steps approach you, and you feel Levi’s presence right next to you as he starts pouring tea into your cup. He’s so close that a faint sweet smell of freshly soaped cotton brushes your senses. It’s a kind of freshness you don’t smell on people often, and you have to fight the urge to take a deep inhale. You glance at his arm right next to you, and you can almost feel his body warmth through the fabric of his cuffed white shirt. Its color is stainless, impossibly white, and you can’t help but travel your gaze up the fabric until you meet the deep blueish grey of his eyes, realizing he’s been looking down at you through dark lashes all along. Your heart jumps, but you don't look away. And neither does he. He holds your gaze for a few more seconds until your cup is full, and he takes a step back from you.

You shift your attention to your cup again, praying he doesn’t notice the way your muscles are tense from the static that just appeared in the air.

He calmly walks to the chair opposite to you, fills his own cup, and sits down.

“You were in the middle of your explanation,” he says with an even tone. “Go on.”

Your eyes flick to his. You hesitate, feeling a heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Uh, what were we talking about again?”

He watches you over his cup as he takes a sip, holding it delicately by the rim in a strange way you’ve never seen before. “The boys being like you.”

Oh, yeah, that.

You clear your throat. “Well, yes. You’re right, I’m no different, but maybe that’s what unsettles me.” You hesitate for a moment, remembering the little questioning voice in your mind during the mission, along with your discussion with Noah. “I never see myself from an outsider perspective, I never have to watch the sick fuck I am when I’m stabbing someone in the dick, or permanently breaking someone’s knee with my crossbow. But now, in a sense, I do. I have to work with people who commit crimes like me, who violently put their frustrations onto others too. I have to face the things I do and see them with my own eyes. That mercilessness, that pleasure when hurting: Noah, Paul, and Caleb showed it all, and I'm no different. Yes, maybe my ‘victims’ deserve the pain, but the point is: I’m capable of doing the same things they do. I’m capable of wounding people to the point they’re bathing in their own blood, then feeling satisfied by the sight. Exactly like those sick fucks around the city. It’s just… a scary resemblance, and I guess being around the guys today was a reminder of that.”

A small voice in your head demands you stop opening yourself up to him. At the end of the day, you have no proof you can trust Levi with your vulnerabilities. 

Yet, the desire to express your concerns to him is stronger than that voice. You so rarely have the opportunity to talk about your conflicting thoughts with someone that doing so is like an irresistible urge now. So instead of trying to block it, you accept the brutal flashes of your mission from last week to race through your mind. The castration, the nauseating feeling in your stomach, but also that sick satisfaction when the man in front of you was passing out from pain.

Frankly, the smile that appeared on your face back then must’ve been a lot darker than any of the sinister smirks you’ve seen on Noah, Caleb, or Paul today. It was far more sadistic than Noah losing it on Herman.

You shudder, taking a sip of tea and hoping it’ll help your brain to sort through the mess that is your thoughts and emotions. “I constantly tell myself I’m not like the brutes of this city. And I know I’m not — I’m not that bad — but I do question myself all the time, and I feel like being in a group might make it worse. Trust issues aside — I’m a bit worried about how this gang will affect me. What if doing group crime will bring the most violent parts out of me? What if I get so used to seeing the boys losing their shit like Noah did today, that I start doing it all the time too and lose my limits? I barely even know where the limits are now, and with that group power… I don’t know. It’s not uncommon for people to lose themselves in gangs, with everyone pulling each other to darker and darker pits of brutality. Also, most importantly, how do I know they won’t turn against me one day? If we agree that it’s completely okay to be mercilessly violent towards shitty scum, then what tells me they won’t see me as shitty scum one day? Because they sure as hell did at one point, didn't they? And—“

You stop abruptly, and mentally smack yourself in the face. Why the fuck do you keep on rambling like this? Where does this messy trail of thoughts even come from? It’s like something is unleashed within you, generating a whole damn unstructured monologue that barely even makes sense. You suddenly wish you could take everything back, keep it all to yourself, safely locked inside, instead of having shared all your worries and vulnerabilities with the most dangerous person you’ve ever met, who you have no real reason to trust.

“You’re terrified.”

You tense up. “What? No, I—“ you stare at him, defensiveness creeping into your skin. “I’m not terrified.”

His gaze sharpens. “Yet, it almost sounds like being surrounded by a group is bringing you more out of your comfort zone than anything else I’ve put you through so far.”

“That’s not true.”

“You sure about that?”

No.

“Yes.”

His eyes search for something in yours. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”

“You literally almost got me ripped to shreds by four guard dogs. I don’t think having to make new friends can top that,” you remind him coolly.

“Yes it can. At least then, you had an idea of what you were dealing with: a psychopathic scumbag who was going to make your life unnecessarily hard. Now, you have no idea what you’re throwing yourself into. Whether being here is going to improve your life or destroy it.”

You wish you could make yourself unreadable and remove the loud silence between you. But you don’t know how to, and with every second that passes, it’s more and more obvious that he’s right.

“Alright, let’s tackle your first issue,” he drawls as he takes a slow sip of tea, dangling his cup under splayed fingers. “You don’t like being reminded that you’re one of the brutes of the Underground too, right? But you are, you’re just like my men: You have a good time, you spill blood, then while doing so, you still have a good time. Afterwards, you forget. Just like all the brutal fucks you see every day in this city. Your victims may be different — you don’t attack innocent people — but the actions are the same. And you're scared that every time you’re going to watch the gang in action, you’ll be reminded of that, and that it might make you worse. That right?”

Of course he doesn’t sugarcoat his words. It’s mildly infuriating, but you nod, muscles tense.

“Listen,” Levi murmurs quietly as he puts his cup down. “Maybe this’ll do you good. There’s no point being in denial. We’re immoral assholes. We have to be. This place is a fucking shithole, and it’s pretty much the only way to live. The sooner you accept that this is who you are, and violence inevitably shapes violence, the better off you’ll be. You’re a product of your environment, you’re bound to have things in common with the disgusting shits who pester this city every day. You’ve been surrounded by them since birth, and so have I. You can’t survive by being a good person. You have to do what you have to do, and if anger or satisfaction sometimes poisons its way through your actions, then so be it.”

You blink. “So that’s it? Just acceptance? How am I supposed to see these pigs every day and not be afraid I’ll turn out like them? Aren’t you scared of losing yourself? Of slowly becoming insane because you don’t keep your morals in check?”

“Maybe I’m insane already, but at least it’s keeping me alive,” he states coolly. “There’s no prison, no police, no justice system, we have to do it all by ourselves. It’s almost impossible to know right or wrong when it’s entirely in our own hands, and when the whole city has a very twisted sense of right or wrong. I don’t pretend to know what’s right, and for the sake of your sanity, you probably shouldn’t either.”

He sits back, eyes hard on you. “You don’t want to become like those people who constantly need to delude themselves into thinking they do no wrong, all while spilling blood on the daily. They are the most dangerous, believe me, they'll find any kind of excuse to feel like they're in the right, just because they can't handle the truth. Take a few months or a few years, and they get so used to lying to themselves that they eventually lose their limits. You're better off being honest with yourself and accepting how things are, because guess what? Nothing we do is right. Everything we do is fucked up. But it doesn’t matter, what matters is survival. If you mercilessly hurt people who hurt others, what does it matter? Our minds are already polluted anyway. And if in the process we stop some sick fucks from spreading even more poison around, all the better.”

You stare at him, taking in the liberating pessimism of his words. Frankly, he isn’t exactly wrong. His thinking pattern is different, but it’s probably also what puts him at the top, what makes him unbeatable and untouchable. He just... accepts it. He doesn't fight who he is, how things are, and how dark his mind can possibly become in this place. Because it's necessary for his survival.

You trace your fingers over the smooth, hot surface of your cup. “What about internal battles? Don’t you feel anything?”

“Never said that.” His eyes don’t waver from yours. “But you’re going to drive yourself mad if you question your sanity every time your thoughts get dark and twisted. Every time your actions get dark and twisted. We’re not talking about innocent people here. These fuckers don’t deserve your internal turmoil. They wouldn’t hesitate for a second to destroy you too. So don’t hesitate either, just give it back to them. Who cares if you have to stoop down to their level in the process? That’s just how things work. Stay at the top or get crushed, that’s all there is to it.”

You tilt your head, lips curling up into a faint smile. “Are you trying to turn me to the dark side, Levi?”

He scoffs. “Maybe you need it. Don’t soften yourself for people who would annihilate you with bright smiles on their faces.”

You pause for a moment. His words are somber, but in a way, they lighten something within you. You’re not sure if it’s a good thing, but at least it’s giving you a sense of relief. It’s like you’re being given the permission to let go, and to stop questioning yourself so much whenever you’re falling into grey areas, which you are all the time. Ever since you were young.

And chances are Levi is talking like this because he has fallen into much more questionable areas, probably at a younger age than you. Whether you like it or not, his thinking pattern factually gives him the best chances of survival. Adapting, and accepting things are what they are, without letting it eat at him.

Your eyes travel back to him. “What about you? Do you do that? ‘annihilate with a bright smile on your face?”

He snorts dryly. “Does it fucking look like I do?”

You swallow back a laugh. “No, but figuratively. What’s your opinion on… enjoying it?”

Levi cocks his head. “Remember that heist close to the tunnels?”

“How could I forget,” you mutter.

“Why do you think I sent those fuckers flying?”

You struggle to fight a smile. “Because you have a sense of humor, apparently?”

“Mainly it was to lift the group spirits,” he explains. “To be fair, I hate when the guys aren’t serious or focused, but a little entertainment goes a long way for everyone. Even for myself, as hard as it is to believe. It's useful, it lets you live a little, so why not. It's not gonna make the world worse than it already is, so allow yourself to gain something out of it sometimes.”

You sigh. “Gotta admit, life would be a lot more bearable if I had more missions like the one I had today. I won't lie, it was fun.”

Your mind travels back to what he said. The heist close to the tunnels. You robbed them, and the gang members simply slit the throats of the men they were holding with no hesitation.

You’ve never slit someone’s throat. You’ve never killed, not once. Strong luck, really, combined with your carefulness and the fact you're always painfully aware of your surroundings whenever you leave home. You’ve been in many dangerous situations, but you’ve always been able to survive without directly taking someone’s life. Though, to be fair, Levi’s words about you being in denial absolutely ring true in this case: just because you’ve never waited for someone’s pulse to stop doesn’t mean the wounds you’ve inflicted in the past have never been lethal. Proper medical care is too difficult to access. There’s no way you haven’t unknowingly taken someone's life at one point. Maybe he's right. It's time you face reality. You aren’t much different from him and the gang. 

Well, unless they’re not at all familiar with the concept of remorse.

You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Do you remember the faces of all the people you’ve killed?” 

Levi huffs. “Of course not.”

More than just a few, alright.

The thought makes your skin tingle. "Do you feel anything when you do it?"

"Hardly."

You swallow. There is not a hint of torment or hesitation in his gaze. Nothing to read. If there is something, it’s all locked away from you.

Uncommon? No. Terrifying? Yes. You should be damn terrified. But the danger he radiates is not targeted towards you. Not anymore, at least. You don’t know whether you should feel at ease because he’s listening to you and he made you a cup of relaxing tea, or whether you should be afraid because violence and murder doesn't shake him in the slightest. 

It hits you, the strangeness of the situation.

Levi, one of the most feared people in the Underground, whose name is whispered in the darkest alleys and the most dangerous corners of the city, has brewed soft lavender tea for you. 

What on earth is happening.

You take a silent breath, looking into the blue and grey specks of his eyes as he silently studies you.

“Do you kill for revenge or self-defense?” you ask quietly.

A pause. “Both.”

Little goosebumps scatter over your skin. “Then why did you let me live? Both reasons apply to me, don’t they?”

“Maybe,” he says. He hesitates for a moment. “But you sparked my interest.”

Your lips feel dry, and the room feels too warm. You take a sip of your cup to hide whatever may appear on your face, and instinctively lick the remaining tea off your lip. During a brief second, his eyes flutter down to follow the motion before moving back up.

“What about the others?” you ask, voice hoarser than you want it to be.

“What do you mean?”

“How easily do they kill?”

He pauses for a moment. “Depends on who. Many can live with it pretty easily, as long as it’s justified to them.”

“That brings us to my next problem, doesn’t it? We’re all immoral assholes, that’s settled. But how do I know everyone’s definition of ‘justified’? How do I know I can trust other immoral assholes?”

“You don’t.”

You stare at him with a frown. “That’s it? You’re not gonna help me here?”

“There’s nothing more I can say,” he responds with a shrug. “They’re not bad people, but whether you take my word for it is up to you to decide. I’m sure you’re not the type to trust people blindly anyway.”

You tilt your head. “Saying they’re not bad people implies they’re not good people either.”

He scoffs dryly. “Good fucking luck finding anyone who is good down here.”

“Point taken,” you mutter.

There’s a moment of silence. Not an uncomfortable one, though. It's the kind of quietness that is filled with thoughts and questions. All you can think about is the risks here. Should you really take a leap of faith and go through with this whole gang-joining thing? You know better than anyone that danger lurks behind every corner, so is it truly worth it to get yourself out there?

“If it's impossible to guarantee people are trustworthy…” you start slowly, “why would one take the risk to stay in a gang?” 

You want him to convince you.

You would never admit that out loud, but you want to. 

Being alone is comfortable and safe, with no risks of getting hurt or betrayed. You can do anything you want, and everything is under your control. But it’s also tiring. You’re tired of only counting on yourself, of only finding solace in Luna and Gary, who you don’t even see as often as you should.

You never notice how lonely your life is until you’re not alone. But you felt it today, that refreshing joy when you were connecting with others. And now you crave it again. Just thinking about going back to your lifestyle of isolation for years on end crushes your heart with disappointment.

Levi watches you for a moment, thinking your question through while absent-mindedly tracing his fingers over his jaw. You can’t help but stare at the motion. His skin looks particularly soft, and in a brief moment of insanity, you wonder how it would feel like to trace your own fingers over his skin.

You rapidly banish the thought. What the fuck.

“There are pros and cons,” he explains quietly. “Cons are, like you said, that trusting people is a risk. If they’re garbage, you’ll suffer, that’s for sure. Also, if you’re going to be in a group, you have to deal with everyone’s baggage at one point, like today, with Noah.”

He leans back on his chair, eyes trailing to his cup. “But there are pros too. More cash, more financial security. And even though you have to deal with each other's baggage, you mostly just lift each other up if the group is right.” His eyes flick up to you, a hidden intensity in them. “Most importantly, it can be good protection. Maybe you believe that being alone is always the safest option — and sometimes it is — but other times, other people can bring you more safety than you alone ever could.”

Your whole body tenses up. He did it. He hit the heart of the problem. Maybe you believe that being alone is always the safest option. He’s right. Scarily right. But are you wrong?

Either way, this is getting out of hand. Levi already knows too much about you, he doesn’t need to know the full extent of your worries.

You clear your throat and redirect to the previous topic. “You said that ‘many’ can easily live with murder. Who in the group can’t?”

He eyes you for a moment. The change of topic was too obvious, but he says nothing about it. 

“Furlan and Jan. Maybe Kai too, though he doesn’t mind violence as much as the other two.”

You lift a brow. “Furlan?”

“Yeah, doesn’t like excessive violence too much. Doesn’t like dangerous situations either, so I have to push the bastard sometimes. but I guess we balance each other out.”

“Huh…” You think about Furlan for a moment, recalling how he didn’t know about the dangers of your first mission. He seemed quite uncomfortable when you told him about it, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

“Makes sense, on second thought.”

Levi nods. “Brains before brawn, and all. See all these books?” He lazily points towards the bookcase on the opposite wall. “From him. I usually make him do the counting too, he likes it anyway.” 

“Is he good at planning too?”

Levi nods.

That catches your attention. “Did he plan my tasks?”

“What do you think?”

You narrow your eyes. “My guess is not. Not entirely, at least. He wouldn’t make me suffer that much.”

Faint flickers of amusement appear in his eyes, but he remains silent.

Well, good thing it’s officially confirmed now. The damn asshole.

You think about those times. There’s one thing you need to know before you leave this room. It’s not the most comfortable question to ask, but it’s getting harder to repress in this calm silence.

“Levi …” you start.

He glances at you over his cup as he takes a sip.

You purse your lips, wondering how you should even approach this question. “Listen… I have to ask. Where do we stand? You and me?”

He puts his cup down in silence, his eyes flicking up and down as he gives you a once over. This alone makes you oddly nervous.

“I mean—“ you continue when he doesn’t respond, “I just don’t understand what exactly you think of me now.”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. If you still dislike me, or if you don’t trust me, it’s useless if I work with you, isn’t it?”

He cocks his head. “Weren’t you the one who desperately wanted to be in the gang in the first place?”

“Don’t be like that.”

He licks his lips to hide a ghost of a smile. “Like what?”

“I didn’t have a choice back then. But things are different now, at least I hope so.”

“They are,” he admits.

There’s a moment of silence, making you narrow your eyes slightly. “You’re avoiding my question, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I am. You’re asking me how I feel about you, but would you know the answer if I asked you the same?”

That takes you off guard. 

What the hell do you even think of him at the moment?

“…I guess not.”

“There you go,” he says quietly. “I don’t know either. We don’t know each other, and especially with the way we started off, I can’t tell what to think of you yet. And you can’t either. It’s only been … what, a little more than a week since you were ready to fucking strangle me?”

You purse your lips to prevent them from curling up into a smile. “Something like that.”

“Right. Things have changed real fast, and it’s too soon to know. My opinion of you now is already different from an hour ago.“

“Oh?”

He merely regards you in silence.

“You gonna elaborate on that?”

“No.”

You roll your eyes. There’s no point in pushing it, though. Levi doesn’t seem like the type to cave if you keep bugging.

“It’s just so strange,” you mutter, “I never thought I’d sit here, drinking tea with you. I don’t know what to think of it.”

A tinge of amusement appears in his eyes. “You prefer we go back to hating the fuck out of each other again?”

You huff out a laugh. “No thanks, heartwarming times but I’ll pass.”

For a brief second, it looks like he's fighting a smile.

You silently tap your fingers on the smooth surface of your mug. “Can you at least tell me if you finally trust me a little?”

“I do.“

Your shoulders relax a little. “Okay, good. But, uh —" you hesitate a bit. “Is everything completely behind us, or do you think you still despise me somewhere, deep down?”

For a moment, his eyes drift away. Quietness fills the room while he looks lost in thought.

“I’m not sure,” he finally says.

You shouldn’t be disappointed, but you would be lying if you said you weren't.

A few seconds pass by before his gaze shifts to you again, eyes silently asking the question back.

You’re about to say no, but then, memories creep into your mind. Memories of the raw hatred you felt for him. Memories of a time he threatened your life, kidnapped you, pretty much gave you a concussion, or didn't stop you from almost getting attacked by a bunch of guard dogs. You vividly remember his determination to make you suffer, and the way he managed to put you in your place in a blink of an eye. He fucked with your head entirely, making you fear for your life every minute of the day.

A mix of anger and bitterness resurfaces at the thoughts.

He’s right. It’s too early, it’s all too confusing. Those memories are too fresh in your mind to get eradicated. You don’t even know how to properly trust him yet, even though your mouth clearly indicated otherwise today. You wince at the realization you opened yourself up to him like you haven’t to anyone in years. What the hell is wrong with you? How does that make any sense? He was your mortal fucking enemy a short time ago.

“I’m not sure either,” you finally tell him. 

His eyes gloss over your features for a moment, and you can tell he knows about all the memories flashing through your mind.

“It doesn’t matter for now,” he says. “I trust in your potential, and you seem to handle yourself well in the group, that’s all that matters. The rest will come in time. And if you want to leave, you can. I’m not stopping you.”

“I don’t want to.”

You need the money. And you crave the company.

And if you’re going to be perfectly honest, never seeing Levi again is not a pleasant thought, as much as your past self would highly disagree. It would be absurd to leave right when you’re starting to get along, especially considering you’ve never met someone with such a high skill set and such a powerful reputation. Surely, working with him must have its benefits, right?

He takes his last sip of tea, face stern but with a speck of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good.”

Chapter Text

You’re peeping at the hideout from the shadows, like the utter creep you are. You may have survived your first mission yesterday, but that does not mean you’re at ease around this place yet. Squinting your eyes, you scan through the group of men chatting in front of the building, trying to find Noah, Paul, or Caleb.

Caleb is standing right beside the stairway that leads to the front door, chatting with two other gang members and a few men who aren’t part of the gang. Frankly, you have zero desire to join him. You don’t hate him, but he probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Although you did feel a little connection when he twisted Friedrich’s balls in the previous mission, you doubt that you both being genital-destroyers is a sufficiently solid foundation to build a friendship on. 

So instead, your hopes go to Paul and Noah, who are standing a few steps away from Caleb’s group, talking to a man you recognize from your stalking sessions. He’s pale, average height, and rocking a short crop of brown hair. There’s nothing too particular about the guy, though you did notice him limping during your stalking sessions. During one week, he was even in crutches. At first, you thought he had just hurt his leg. But as you observed him more, something made you feel like he’d been dealing with this issue for a while. There was just something about the way he limped and handled those crutches. Maybe he has that leg condition some people get due to the lack of sunlight. If so, it is quite admirable he’s still in the gang, considering many missions require a high level of mobility. This must mean that the group is flexible, giving varying tasks according to everyone’s strengths and limits. Also, that there’s a decent level of acceptance and care within the group. At that, Noah’s words resurface in your mind: ‘We’re all like family to each other’.  It brings a warm feeling inside your chest. A strange sensation of nostalgia and longing, like it’s something you miss somehow, despite never having been in a gang before.

Either way, joining Noah, Paul, and that man is the more favorable option by far. Especially considering the little post-mission-chitchat you had with Noah, Paul, and Caleb after your conversation with Levi yesterday. Once you finished your tea with Levi, you joined the boys at Jo’s bar for some sweet bonding time. Though it was rather pleasant, you couldn’t keep up with the conversation. You were tired, your social batteries were drained, your mind kept wandering back to your talk with Levi, and additionally, the three boys were often talking about people you’d never heard of, and past missions you’ve never participated in. Never did the conversation go back to the mission of that day however, probably for Noah’s sake.

You didn’t mind absent-mindedly listening to the boys. Well, at least until you made the unforgivable mistake of vaguely recognizing the names ‘Vic and Seb’ in the midst of their conversation. You couldn’t immediately place where you had heard those names before, so evidently, your dumbass asked. This earned you a dark look from Caleb, who coldly reminded you that ‘they were the guys who got kicked out because of you’. An awkward silence ensued, and you didn’t miss how Noah shoved his elbow in Caleb’s side, casting him an irritated glance.

Needless to say, you felt quite uncomfortable for the rest of the conversation, though Noah and Paul did their utmost best to lift the spirits. They quickly shifted the conversation, suddenly having thorough discussions about the culinary art that is canned tomato soup. The sweethearts.

Still, the incident inevitably brought back familiar worries about getting into the group, and it didn’t take too long until you made up an excuse to go home.

Overall, it seems like getting to Caleb’s heart won’t exactly be a straight, uphill road. Until then you’ll stick to Noah and Paul, thank you very much.

You take a deep breath. Then another one. Then, you finally emerge from your cowardly hiding spot. As you approach Noah, Paul, and the gang member you don’t know the name of, Noah’s eyes drift to you. His lips immediately curl up into a smile as he recognizes you, and he waves you over with heartwarming enthusiasm. This is followed by Paul who does the same. In contrast, the man next to him watches you with a blank expression. 

“Hi there,” Noah greets with an excited smile. “Ready for the big mission?” 

You frown. “Big mission?”

“Well, probably,” he shrugs. “Levi asked for all of us to come, which usually means something big is coming.”

“Oh really? You don’t often do something with the whole gang?” you ask.

“Sometimes, but not that often. I mean, together with Levi and Furlan we’re nine in total now, that’s too many for a small mission.”

Paul wears an almost maniacal smile. “This is gonna be good boys. I can feel it!” 

Noah chuckles. “Yeah, me too.” His attention shifts to the man standing next to him, and he pats his shoulder as he looks at you. “This is Jan by the way. Remember the guy I mentioned who is in our band too? The one who plays the handpan? This is him.” 

You give the man a little smile. “Nice to meet you. Gotta say, I’m curious about that instrument of yours, never heard of it before.”

Jan gives you a curt, strained smile. “Been practicing more lately, so you’ll probably hear me play soon enough.” 

His polite expression does not at all match the warmth of Noah’s, but if he doesn’t really like or trust you, which you highly suspect, he at least tries not to show it. He never struck you as unfriendly when you stalked the gang, so hopefully, he’ll remain civil despite whatever opinion he’s hiding from you.

It’s no surprise certain gang members wouldn’t be fond of you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you.

You suppose there’s no point fretting about it now, though. You’ll just have to deal with the way things are.

Noah’s gaze meets yours. “Sometimes we play gigs at bars or taverns, but when we’re in the mood we just do it for free on the streets too, it’s the best feeling.” He smiles faintly, his voice turning soft and distant. “Just improvising, losing ourselves in the music, making us and everybody around us feel a better… nothing beats it. You should join us sometime, even if you don’t want to play anything, it’s just something you gotta experience one day.”

Paul crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at Noah. “Wish you were as enthusiastic about me joining.” 

Noah clicks his tongue. “We’ve already been through this Paul, for the billionth time: no.”

“Sorry but Noah is right,” Jan admits with a shy wince. “We’re not doing that again.”

Paul pouts, his frown growing deeper. “Oh come on, you guys need another lead singer.” 

Noah snorts. “What we need is to be protected from your damn vocal cords. That voice of yours is enough to make all the old and the sick in our district undergo cardiac arrest.”

Paul squints his eyes to the point you wonder if he’s even seeing anything through his lashes. “I just need a little bit of practice, that’s all.”

“If you think practice can fix—“

Noah is interrupted when the door of the hideout creaks open. Everyone falls silent as Levi and Furlan walk out. Levi’s gaze briefly roams over the group, and with that, everyone’s anticipation and curiosity visibly rises in the air.

“Come on in,” he says, sounding utterly bored. “And don’t any of you bastards forget to wipe your disgusting shoes before entering, or I’ll have you lick the fucking floor clean.”

After this gracious speech, Levi turns around and goes back inside. Furlan follows, amusement tugging at his lips.

The same amusement sparks in Noah’s eyes. He leans into you, his voice turning into a whisper. “Did I already mention he’s quite the clean freak? If not, take this as a warning. The man doesn’t play around with hygiene.” 

You lift your brows as you slowly follow the group up the stairs to go inside. “Really?”

“You never noticed?”

“I mean…” You remember the neatness of Levi’s clothes, the whiteness of his blouse, the impeccably tidied headquarters. “Sortof.”

You can’t help but smile a little. Who would’ve thought someone like him would be so preoccupied with hygiene and tidiness? Most infamous gang leaders around the city have leathery skin and darkened teeth, and their hygiene routine is limited to picking their crusty toenails with unwashed daggers. Not that you’ve ever actually gotten to personally know men like that before, let alone have a deep insight into their bathing routines, but you don’t need to. Their non-existant hygiene is detectable from a far distance. Levi is clearly not like that though — you’ve gathered that a while ago — but it’s still pleasantly surprising to see how different he is on so many levels.

While walking up the stairs, you watch in disbelief as everyone vigorously cleans their shoes on a rug at the entrance. You almost burst into laughter. Is this the gang that got the entire city shaking in fear? 

Noah playfully pokes you in the arm with his elbow. Although his warning expression tells you to get a hold of yourself, he’s clearly holding back a laugh too.

Everyone shuffles inside, seating themselves in the two couches and the chairs that surround the small wooden table at the center of the room. The place feels a bit crowded. It makes sense that the boys always hang outside the hideout, especially considering Levi likes things tidy and clean.

You follow Noah as he sits down next to Jan on the old couch, and he taps on the space next to him for you to join. It doesn’t look like there is comfortable room for three people, but there’s barely enough place for everyone to sit, so this will have to do. Squeezing between Noah and the couch's armrest, you watch as everyone else settles down too. There’s a hint of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You’re not sure whether this is due to the anticipation of the coming mission, or the fact you’re sitting with all the gang members for the first time. It doesn't help that  Jan doesn’t seem to like or trust you all that much.

Or maybe it’s the fact you’re practically glued against Noah.

Levi sits down opposite to you, on a chair next to Furlan’s. His eyes briefly jump to where your arms and legs connect with Noah’s, but he diverts his attention to the other men after a mere second.

You briefly scan the room as well. Jan and Noah are sitting next to you on the couch. Paul, Caleb, and a rather young-looking boy with a brown crop of hair are on the other couch. On the chair next to them sits the guy who saw you during—

Ugh. 

As if the pervert can hear your thoughts, his eyes shift to you. Before you manage to look away, you catch his lips curling into a lopsided smile as he gives you a wink.

For fuck’s sake.

Feeling even more uncomfortable now, your eyes hop to the person next to him: Levi. He’s already looking at you, and the immediate eye contact just increases your discomfort a thousandfold.

You resort to bringing your attention to the damn furniture in the room. At least that won’t stare back.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Levi starts as he leans back into his chair, making the room fall into silence. “Some of you know this already, but we’re in a shitty predicament. Waltson, our biggest food supplier from outside, has apparently decided he’s had enough of our bullshit. He’s gonna start paying underground distributors in very small amounts spread over many transactions, instead of giving them the entire sum at once.”

“Of course he would,” someone mumbles.

“To make things worse,” Levi continues, “he’s decided to do these transactions randomly, so we don’t know when those bits of money are coming down. Distributors aren’t happy about it, but apparently Waltson doesn’t give a shit. Conclusion: we can’t really steal from him anymore. The fucker has won. There go half of our heists.”

A collective noise of complaint fills the room. A touching mix of “for fucks sake”, “The rotting damn bastard”, and “By King Fritz’s hairy balls, this sucks!”  (the last of which might have come from Paul).

“We’re still stocked up on food but we don’t have much medicine left,” Levi continues once all the cursing has died down. His eyes glaze over Jan, then over Paul and the boy sitting next to him. There’s something particular about the way he looks at them, and his voice softens a little. “I know how much some of you need it, but things are not looking good, especially since medicine prices have been going up like crazy. It’s almost unaffordable now.” 

Paul lets out a harsh breath as he tips his head back on the couch, eyes closing shut. “Is there any good news too? If not imma need a drink now. Preferably pure ethanol.”

“Maybe.” Levi pauses for a moment. “Depends on whether you guys are in the mood to take a risk.”

That catches everyone's attention.

“You all know Rocco’s gang, right?” Levi asks, eyeing everyone.

“Of course,” Noah says, a hint of discontent in his voice. “Biggest drug distributors in the city. All dealers get their stuff from them, right?”

Levi nods. “Yeah, and they’re getting more successful by the day. But there’s good news: we might be able to catch their biggest trade. The biggest one they’ve done in years. At least, that’s what I’ve heard of it so far.”

“We’re gonna rob Rocco’s boys?” Paul asks in astonishment.

Levi nods. “Their contacts from above-surface have been cooking a shitton in their labs, apparently. They’re making drugs I’ve never even heard of before.” His voice is calm, but there’s a clear undertone of displeasure in it. “As you all know, upsiders are always generous enough to sell their shit down here, so I’m thinking we should extend that generosity and rob them of every fucking penny they hope to get out of this trade. If we succeed, it’ll be one of the — if not the largest operation we’ve done so far. It’s probably going to be more than we’ve ever seen.”

A stunned silence befalls the room. 

All you can do is stare and hold your breath.

You can barely believe what you’re hearing. ‘More than we’ve ever seen’. The gang has already done huge heists: the ones you sabotaged were spectacular. And this heist would be… even bigger? 

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters silently, voicing everyone's collective shock.

“Why such a big trade? Why now?” the creep asks with widened eyes.

“Demand’s been shooting up the past few months,” Levi explains, his expression turning colder. “At first I thought it was because everyone is becoming more miserable due to our economy going to shit again. People would rather die on a high than on sober hunger. Fight misery with more self-destruction, you know how it is. But… that’s not just it.“ 

Bitterness darkens his voice as he continues. “Rocco’s men have been hooking every child they find on the streets to their stuff. We all know it’s not uncommon, but these fuckers are really taking their jobs to the next level. Probably because they’ve been able to make some good deals with those shitheads from above, and they want to make more money off of it. Before we know it, the whole Underground will be snorting whatever filth they bring down here.”

Caleb scoffs in disgust. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I don’t get it,” the younger boy next to him interjects, shaking his head. “What do they do with all the kids who can’t afford to buy more? I’m sure most of em’ don’t got any money to buy more, so what’s the point?”

“They don’t care. It’s drugs for work,” Levi explains. “They tell the kids they can get more if they start stealing, killing, and doing worse. That’s how you get brainwashed hit-men at the ripe age of eight. They don’t need all the children for themselves though, there are too many of them. Part of Rocco’s business is to sell them to other gangs. They are the worst types of animals to exist.”

“Happened to a few friends of mine,” Paul says quietly. “Most of them didn’t survive for long.” 

Caleb glances at Paul’s somber expression and clenches his jaw at the sight. He looks back at Levi. “Wouldn’t everyone be better off if we just slaughtered all of Rocco’s men? Those guys are starting to expand too much for my liking.”

Levi scoffs dryly. “Won’t change much. As soon as their gang collapses, someone else will take over and start dominating the West in their place. Then, they’ll do worse to prove that they’re stronger. It’s always the same. Things never improve. Besides, Rocco’s gang is too big. Not worth the risk. Best we can do is sabotage their trade and ruin their relationship with those sellers from top-side.” 

“Why do those above even bother with the Underground in the first place?” Noah grumbles. “Aren’t they better off selling to people who actually have money?”

“I’m sure they already do,” Furlan notes. “Those labs aren’t there just for us, but there’s no denying the Underground is good business too. Do you know anyone here who isn’t desperate for temporary relief? A moment of happiness and escape, even if it’s just from chemicals?”

“Point taken,” Noah mutters.

The young boy next to Caleb looks at Furlan with a tense expression, something between anger and anguish flashing in his dark eyes. “What if the medicine prices been shooting up cause those fucktards are using up all the chemicals? What are we gonna do if it gets even more expensive? We need it.”

“That’s not how it works, Kai.” The creep next to Levi shoots with a roll of his eyes.

The boy — apparently called Kai — frowns. “Oh yeah? How’d you know?”

“No one knows why prices are shooting up,” Furlan interjects with a deep sigh. “The Stairway Toll, medicine, food, it’s all the same. Some years we’re lucky, other years it’s a disaster. Heaven knows who exactly is responsible for the mess that is our economy, but either way, we have to do something about it soon.”

“You sure you want to mess with Rocco’s men, though?” Noah asks hesitantly as he shifts his attention back to Levi. “They dominate a huge part of the city.”

“I don’t give a shit how many underlings they have,” Levi says, voice stern. “We’ll mess with them if that’s what we need to do. They don’t need to know it’s us robbing them anyway. We can make ourselves unrecognizable.” 

Levi slips his hand in the pocket of his trousers and takes out a piece of paper, which he lays on the table for everyone to see. Grabbing a pencil, he leans forward and starts to draw. “This is the Stairway at the east of the city,” he explains as he sketches a stair at the corner of the paper. “Around here—” he draws a few buildings on the other side of the paper, “—is the main hideout of Rocco’s gang. They’ll probably come from this area, from the west of the city.”

He proceeds to draw a maze-like structure between the stairway and Rocco’s hideout. “Here are the subterranean tunnels.” He glances up, looking at everyone while tapping on the drawn tunnels with his pen. “Transaction will happen right here, and that’s where we come in.”

Oh.

He leans back, eyeing everyone calmly. “I know most of you reckless shits aren’t afraid of risks, but it’ll be much more dangerous than usual. So I have to ask: is everyone in? Either everyone participates, or we don’t do it. The group needs to be big enough or it’ll never work.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone looks at each other.

Paul breaks the quietness with a clap of his hands, followed by a sly smile creeping up his face. “Money and adrenaline? Sign me the fuck up.”

Caleb rolls his eyes at Paul’s enthusiasm, but he follows with a lazy shrug nonetheless. “Sure. We really need it, and if we can mess up their business in the process, why not?”

“How much money are we talking about?” Jan asks carefully. 

Furlan’s lips curl up into a dark smile. “A lot.”

Levi huffs. “That’s an understatement. It’s going to be dangerous but the compensation is huge. It’ll be enough to completely stock up on meds again, and food won’t be an issue for any of us for a while either. But that’s not all. If what I’ve gathered so far is true, it’ll be such a huge trade that we’ll probably all be able to afford a trip outside.”

There’s a moment of silence.

Hold on.

Hold the fuck on.

What?

You barely process you just said that last part out loud, along with the rest of the group. 

You also barely process that you're staring, mouth agape, just like all the other boys.

“Kai, learn to clean those fucking molar teeth, I can see your lunch leftovers all the way from here,” Levi grumbles as he watches Kai’s agape mouth with a scrunched nose.

Kai abruptly closes his mouth, but the others don’t. Everyone is simply too shocked to process what Levi just said.

Outside.

A trip outside.

“W-wait, pause,” Jan stutters, raising his hands as if trying to physically halt time. “You mean outside outside?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. And you bastards need it direly, so it’s worth trying.”

Judging by everyone's expression, the boys are just as dumbfounded you are. 

You’ve never been outside before. Never. It was likely a possibility when you were younger; the Stairway Toll used to be less expensive and your parents had a decent income after all, but you never left the Underground. Your parents always said that going outside would be like walking in a field of landmines. The stairway leads straight to Mitras, the richest city within the three walls, which is infested with MP’s. Although a special permit is required to remain in the Capitol, Underground citizens are still forced to remain within Wall Sina during their stay, probably so the police can keep an eye on them. The chances of your mother getting recognized or caught were too high. The only place she was — or seemed — safe from being hunted down was in the Underground. 

But that doesn’t mean the same applies to you. Nobody knows about your existence, your parents kept it expertly hidden. So maybe, just maybe…

Images flash through your mind. Colorful images your child-mind pictured when your mother used to tell you about flowers, fields of grass, trees — larger than the highest buildings in the Underground — and infinite skies. Clouds, which you can catch small glimpses of in a few spots in the city, right under the holes that gape to the world above. But every time you try to take a look, you’re just left longing for more. The openings are too high and they’re not large enough to get a good view of the sky. So instead, you always let your imagination run free, picturing yourself in open fields with soft clouds over your head. And everything your mind always comes up with feels… magical.

And what you’re hearing now is that you might finally see all of it with your own eyes? With everyone else in this room?

“But—“ Caleb starts after a few moments of stunned silence. “I thought the Stairway Toll has been unpayable the past few years?”

“Yes, but not for us. Not if we succeed,” Levi explains. “But again, I’m not sure we will, so don’t get your hopes up. The trade will happen in more than a month, meaning we have time to prepare, but I don’t know all the details yet. The exact number of people that will be present, the exact amount of money involved, and so on. All I know is that this will be one of the biggest trades I’ve seen so far. And if we succeed, we will be able to pay for a trip outside.”

“I’ve never been outside,” says Kai with a breathy voice, eyes widened.

“I know.” Levi’s gaze trails over everyone in the room. “Many of you haven’t, so unless you all want to keep rotting away due to our lack of sunlight, we’d better try sabotaging this deal.”

You glance at all the boys, one by one. It’s no surprise many in this room have never left the Underground. The chances of the poor ever seeing sunlight has always been ridiculously small, and you don’t doubt most men here weren’t as well off as you when you were younger. You’re sure getting in this gang has increased everyone’s income, but life is expensive. Saving up is expensive. And the more one tries to fight for a better income, the more dangerous their lifestyle has to become, and thus the more food and medicine they need, which strips a large part of that additional money away from them again. Trying to save up for a vacation outside (or even more extreme: for the false hope to one day afford citizenship), is a near-impossible fight. One may spare for months or years, just to lose it all when an unexpected illness hits. Unavoidable, considering how disease-ridden the streets are, and how little nutrients the average citizen gets. Luna’s incident is a perfect example of that. And with medication and hospital treatments being as unpayable as they are, ‘saving up to see sunlight’ often doesn't lead to anything. It’s just a lie, some false hope, but what is anyone without hope?

But maybe it’s more than false hope for you and the eight other people in this room. Looking at the awed faces around you, you suspect everyone is thinking the same.

“So you’re telling me…” Paul begins slowly, “We’re going to see the sun? Grass? Trees? The cities outside? Cows? Forests? Deer? Birds? Sheep—“

“Paul, for fuck’s sake,” Caleb groans. “Calm down. First off, what are the chances this will even work?”

“Depends,” Levi admits. “A few weeks ago I would’ve said the chances were slim, and I probably wouldn’t have gone for it, but...” he stops, his gaze meeting yours. “Now we’ve got a new asset in our team.”

Suddenly, eight pairs of eyes are looking straight at you. The intensity of this sudden attention and quietness makes your breath halt. 

“Can you make the necessary weapons for us, and teach the boys how to work with them?” Levi asks.

This immediately incites a fluttery feeling of anticipation in your gut. “Yeah, sure. I can do that.” 

“Good,” he says with a nod of his head. "Looks like you have experience with the underground tunnels too, so we can make use of that as well.”

At this, a wave of discomfort hits you. There is no doubt every single one of those eight pairs of eyes is now remembering the stunt you pulled in those tunnels. You can’t help but wonder who got crushed under your traps. You also can’t help but remember the stacks of cash you managed to steal from them that day. You paid for Luna’s treatment with their heists, but apparently, you’re far from the only one who needs medication. A mix of guilt, shame, and fear of repercussion tightens your lungs.

Earlier, Levi directed his attention to Paul, Jan, and Kai, when he was talking about the ones needing medication for themselves or people dear to them. Without wanting to, your gaze shifts to Kai. The boy is looking at you but he’s not smiling, and if you had to guess, you’d say there is exactly zero chance he isn’t thinking about the money you stole. The potential medication you robbed him of. Your eyes automatically dart to the man next to him, Caleb. His expression carries even less warmth. You don’t even have the courage to look at Paul, afraid of finding disappointment, or worse: hostility. Instead, your eyes drift to the last person who needs medication: Jan. The moment you make eye contact, you realize it was a bad idea. Unsurprisingly, he’s eyeing you with a hidden hint of dislike. 

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of where to look or what to say, feeling your palms turning sweaty and your heart beginning to race. As you look at Levi again, you catch him watching you.

“We’ll have to be well prepared and coordinated,” he continues. “Details will come later, but keep in mind that this is what we’ll be focusing on the next coming weeks. And I don’t want any of you slacking. You’ll perfect your skills until there’s no chance of failure, got it?”

Everyone nods and voices their agreement.

“Any questions?” he finally asks.

The guys shake their heads.

But you do have questions. There are holes in the plan you can’t ignore. And even though the thick tension that appeared in the air still tightens your throat, you’re in dire need to take the power back. You can’t leave this room without counteracting the way you just crumbled at the mildest hint of confrontation.

“They’ll outnumber us, right?” you begin.

Levi’s eyes travel to you. He pauses. “Yes.”

“Then why do we rob them right at the meetup, where both parties are together? Why don’t we rob Rocco’s gang underway, when they’re carrying the money and heading there? At least then we won’t have to deal with the sellers too.”

Levi leans back on his chair, watching you with a relaxed pose. “We’d be in broad light. How do you propose we do that?”

“You guys have your methods for that, don’t you? You could do that thing again where you use your ODM gear to kidnap whoever is carrying the cash?”

“Wouldn’t be a bad idea in other circumstances,” he admits, “but not in this one. The money will be hidden. They’re not going to take risks, not with a trade this big, and in an area ridden with this many thieves. They’ll be a whole group — a big group, and we’ll have no idea who is carrying the cash.”

Furlan nods in agreement. “With trades like this, the money is often split up between members. That way they can hide it more easily, and there’s no risk of one person carrying the whole sum and losing everything. “

“So we won’t know which ones to kidnap?” you conclude pensively.

Furlan nods.

“We’re a whole group though. What if there are fewer of them than us?” you counter. “Maybe then each one of us can grab someone, and we’ll eventually find out who is carrying the money. Have you guys ever done that ODM gear thing in a group?”

At that, something resembling amusement flickers in Levi’s eyes. “I like your enthusiasm, but only Furlan and I know how to use ODM gear well enough to do that. We don’t have enough gear or gas to teach everyone in the group. Besides, it takes more than a month to master.”

“Also, Rocco’s men would recognize us,” Furlan adds.

Levi nods. “Yes, and if they find out we’re the ones who sabotaged their precious trade, they’ll want every single one of our throats sliced. After slowly skinning us alive, of course. Gangs like theirs never pass up a good opportunity to be entertained.”

“Great,” Kai mutters under his breath.

You frown. “Why would they recognize you? I mean, I’ve heard your—" you quickly catch yourself, "—our group is famous for using ODM gear, but you and Furlan aren’t the only ones in the Underground who can fly, right?”

“No, but most are clumsy with it,” Levi responds. “And to do some kidnapping, one needs to be good at it. If they see how we fly, they’ll suspect it’s us, trust me.” He pauses. Then adds, “Besides, they aren’t as oblivious as the men on who we pulled this trick on last time. Those idiots had no idea what was coming to them. But Rocco’s men are different, they’ll be ready to pounce and shoot the moment they recognize a sound of ODM gear coming their way.”

“Alright, makes sense,” you hum. Then a realization hits you, making you narrow your eyes. “What happens if they recognize us anyway?”

“Wouldn’t be the end of the world,” he shrugs. “We’d just have to kill every single one of them before they kill us.”

“Oh lovely,” you mutter.

“I’m not denying it's a risk. It absolutely is. But it’s worth considering.”

“What about the outsiders?” you wonder. “They’re not as dangerous, are they? They’ll be carrying all the money after the trade. Do we have a better chance targeting them?”

“Not really, even if they don’t recognize our gang, we still have the issue of not knowing who has the money. They might not be Rocco’s boys, but they’ll have guns, so we can’t just kindly pick them up one after one. I don’t think trying to massacre all their men while they travel will end well for us either. We need the darkness of the tunnels. Sneaking around, being discrete, and striking when the cash is being counted.”

You picture the dark tunnels again. Last time was already damn terrifying, but at least you had the advantage of knowing the tunnels while Levi’s gang didn’t. But now? Everyone will know the tunnels. The enemy will be prepared, which isn't good.

“How are we going to do this?” you can’t help but ask, feeling uncomfortable about all the uncertainty surrounding the mission. “I’m sure the exits will be guarded, and it will be filled with armed guys down there. They’ll likely be everywhere. How are you planning to get away with that?”

“I was going to ask you that, actually,” Levi says.

“… What?” 

His eyes don’t waver from yours. “I want you to help me and Furlan come up with a plan. But first, we need to map the place to come up with ideas, so you’ll come with me to the tunnels after this meeting to help me with that. Alright?”

You frown, eyeing him suspiciously. “Sure… but why me?”

“Firstly, because you’re already familiar with the place. Secondly, because you’re a stealthy little shit, and thirdly, because you’ve got brains for planning. You wouldn’t have been able to steal from us otherwise. The questions you just bombarded me with are enough proof of that too.”

You look at Furlan, who merely agrees with a nod. “And you can provide us with weapons, so your perspective is useful,” he adds. 

You stare at both of them, slightly flabbergasted. “I mean… sure, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure I’ll come up with anything useful. I’ve never done something this big before. We don’t even know how things will go exactly.”

“I know, but I trust your abilities,” Levi says, sounding calm and assertive. “Ask yourself the right questions like you just did, and the right answers will come after. For now, I want you to come down those tunnels with me. If it turns out to be feasible and we figure out a decent plan, you can help us out with the weapons. Most of us only have one or two rusty knives, we could use an upgrade for such a big trade.“

“Alright, I can do that,” you tell him with a nod. You’re certain the astonishment is still visible on your features, and without thinking, the words slip out of your mouth, “You’re entrusting me with a lot of responsibilities.” 

“I know,” he simply says. There’s no hesitance in his voice, not a hint of doubt. He really does trust your abilities. And since it’s coming from someone as distant, mistrusting, and skilled as Levi, this is more heartwarming and flattering than any compliment someone could ever give you.

You quickly glance at everyone in the room. They’re watching you and Levi with rapt attention. When your eyes fall on Paul, he gives you a proud wink, and you’re immediately flooded with relief. Earlier, you were afraid to look at him, scared of finding anger or bitterness. But all you can see now is warmth.  

“One last thing,” Levi adds, bringing his attention to the group. “It goes without saying, but of course, no one outside of this room can know about this. Not a word. Not to a friend, not to family, no one. If anyone finds out and it somehow goes back to the wrong people, we’re fucked. Rocco might try to trap us by surprise, and I don’t want any of you bastards dying before we get our promised trip, alright?”

A few of the boys chuckle, and everyone nods.

“Good, now go. I’ll let you know when we figure out our next step.” 

Everyone stands up simultaneously. Furlan is about to, but he hesitates for a moment, eyes shifting between you and Levi. 

“You two sure you two don’t need extra help? I could postpone the deal with Michel and help you out in those tunnels.”

Levi shakes his head. “It’s fine. The fewer we are, the better. Can’t have us drawing too much attention on ourselves down there.”

“Good point,” Furlan agrees with a nod. “Alright, well, good luck you two. Don’t get lost down there,” he says as he gets up. 

While everyone leaves, Levi gets up too, walking towards the kitchenette and rumbling through a few drawers. There’s a click once the door closes, and after that, the room falls completely silent.

“Come here,” Levi calls while he continues his search. ”I need to give you something back before we go.”

You approach him with curiosity and take a seat at the table behind him.

“There it is,” he finally mumbles. 

A sharp blade glistens in his hand. Your eyes widen as you recognize it. “My knife!”

“Knives,” he corrects as he takes out another blade. “I should’ve returned them sooner.”

He closes the drawer and places the two weapons in front of you. On the left, your throwable dagger. On the right, the knife your father made for you, the one with a small flower carved on its wooden handle. You immediately reach for it, tracing the pattern with your fingers as you marvel at the familiar feeling. You pick it up and hold it against your chest, as if you’re holding a pillow instead of a deadly knife. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, emotions churning inside your chest. “I was sure I’d never see this one again.”

He hesitates for a moment. “Special meaning?” 

“Yes,” you sigh. “Thank you for giving it back.” You glance at him, but after a few moments, you frown. “Actually, I shouldn’t be thanking you. I wanted to stab you when you took it away from me.” 

He scoffs. “I noticed. You destroyed a whole damn building because of it.”

“And I’d do it again,” you assure him as you press the object closer to your heart. “It was a dick move.”

“You’d just stolen what I had worked for for weeks, and then tried to slice my fucking head off. You almost succeeded too. It’s a damn miracle I dodged in time. You're joking if you think I'd leave you with any weapons after that.”

“Hmm I did that, didn’t I?”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you fucking smiling?”

You purse your lips to hide your amusement. “Am I?”

“Cheering over my near-death experience. Cute.”

You flip your knife in your hand and point the blade at him. “Hey, you’re the one who terrorized me afterward. I was constantly fearing for my life because of you, you know? For days. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

He clicks his tongue. “Don’t discredit yourself so much, you think I managed to get any good night’s sleep back then? Thought you’d break in and slice my throat any moment.”

You give him a sweet smile. “It was tempting.”

He snorts dryly. “I’m sure it was.”

You put the knife down again, letting your mind wander back to the past. When both your gazes meet again, you add, “Still, you were shitty to me, and that’s an understatement. I hope you know that.”

He’s silent as he eyes you. Then, he sighs. The wooden floorboards creak under his shoes as he approaches you, and it’s only when he’s right beside you that he stops and leans back against the table with crossed arms.

“You’re right,” he admits quietly as he stares in front of him. You frown in surprise as you realize something slipped in his voice. Something akin to guilt. Or regret, even. His eyes travel down to you. “Listen, I don't think I'd act much differently if it happened all over again, but…” he hesitates. “I’m sorry I tormented you like that.” 

For a brief moment, you’re not sure what to say. You didn’t actually expect him to relent at all. This is the first time you’re getting anything from him that even mildly resembles vulnerability. There’s a tinge of discomfort in his stance and in his voice, a side of him you haven’t seen before. He doesn’t seem like the type to admit or apologize just to please, nor does he seem to be comfortable doing so in the first place. And now that you’re getting some of it, you crave more. More honesty, more glimpses of what he thinks and feels. 

“You really thought I was lying back then?” you ask.

“Of course I did. You were real damn suspicious. You stalked us for weeks, and it’s not like it’s the first time people have sent someone over to spy on us.” His gaze travels to a distant point in front of him. “You know, a few years back, when Furlan and I had just started to form a group, there was this boy who was often hanging around with us. No one really knew where he came from, but he just started to become friends with the guys in the gang. There was always something about him that bothered me, though. He asked too many questions for my liking. But the others didn’t listen. Fast forward a few months, and it turned out he was a lying fucking rat. He was part of a gang who was plotting against us, feeding inside info and trying to ruin us. They attacked us at a weak spot, and a few of the boys got hurt, but nothing too bad. We won.”

Levi lets out a deep sigh, one that sounds tired and carries weight. “That’s what all those primal little shits around the city waste their time doing. They knew my name, already saw me as a threat, and they didn’t like that I wasn’t going solo anymore. They felt threatened while I didn’t even know they existed. And that wasn’t the last time such a thing happened.” His eyes meet yours again, and he pauses briefly. “So yes, I thought you were lying. I was pretty much waiting for you to flee back to your group, or to bring them to us. I’m not quick to look for the good in people. ” 

As you take in his words, something within you loosens a little. You knew he used to distrust you, and you didn’t exactly blame him for it, but the bitter viciousness he showed makes more sense now. And while a little glimpse in his past experiences doesn’t erase the fact you started off on the wrong foot (spectacularly wrong foot, dare you say), it does give you some tools to bridge the gap between you and him. Especially since you know exactly how it is to become mistrusting due to bad experiences from the past. Not that it has turned you into the ruthless person he is, but at the same time, you also haven’t been through the same things he has.

“Have you always had many enemies?” you ask quietly as you absent-mindedly trace the smooth wooden handle of your knife.

“Pretty much, though it got much worse when people started to know my name,” he explains. “Can’t ever trust anyone in this damn place.”

“So what makes you trust me?” you ask carefully. “You’re giving me many responsibilities for a newling.”

He hesitates and stares at your fingers as you softly trace the handle of your knife.

“I have my reasons.”

You roll your eyes. “Do you always have to be so cryptical?”

“Quit complaining.”

“Fine,” you relent, suppressing another eye roll. “Anyway, I really appreciate you for trusting me with all of this. I’m glad I’ll be able to help and do something useful. Can’t say I’m too excited about going down those tunnels again, but I do like the idea of making up a plan. Also, making weapons for everyone is pretty exciting. I’ll probably need help though, one month is a short time.” 

He looks at you for a moment. “You up for that?”

“For what?”

“Getting help. The boys and I would have to be at your place.”

That makes you pause. You hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I saw the way you looked at them earlier,” he adds.

You bring your attention back to your blade. “What do you mean?” you ask, knowing exactly what he means. It’s no wonder he recognized the anguish flashing in your eyes during your little guilt-fest moment earlier.

“Look, I’m saying this for you: stop being worried about what these boys think of you. They’re not stronger than you are, but you’ll make them think so if you keep it up like this. I know you want them all to like you, but that’ll come in time. Don’t worry about their opinions, it’s fucking useless.”

“Easier said than done,” you grumble with more irritation than intended. “It’s not just about liking, it’s just—“ you let out a frustrated sigh, “—isn’t it normal that I worry if I’m around people who may hold a grudge against me? I’m just cautious, that’s all. What do you know about being in a group who might hate you anyway?”

“Oh trust me, I know all about it, and believe me when I tell you that the last thing you should do is submit to them. I’m not saying you should be insufferable, but you’re too scared of not pleasing them. Quit it. It’ll bite you in the ass one day. If not with the boys in the group, then with other people.”

You glare at him. “So what do you suggest?”

“Stop trying to hope they’ll forget about what you did. They won’t. Instead, embrace it. Yes, you robbed them, so fucking what? They should be embarrassed, not you. Next time I see you crumbling in shame when someone remembers how you robbed us, I’ll kick your ass.” 

You stare at his stern expression, and after a few seconds, you can’t help but snort a laugh. “Fine, you're right, I’ll try.” 

But as you process his words and realize how right he actually is, your amusement is quickly replaced by something else.

“I think I’ve been away from people for too long,” you explain with a quiet laugh. But your laugh sounds hollow and humorless, even to your own ears. You don’t mean for a clear hint of sadness to creep into it, but it happens nonetheless. And all of a sudden, you feel oddly vulnerable. 

He remains quiet.

“I wish I was more used to all of this,” you tell your shoes. As the words come out, the feeling of vulnerability inside your chest deepens a hundredfold. You have a sudden urge to leave the room and be alone once more. But strangely, the idea doesn’t make you feel better. It just makes you feel more defeated.

“Hey, look at me.” His index finger softly catches your chin, turning you to face him. Your breath catches in your throat as your gazes lock. He looks down at you under dark lashes, eyes the strangely beautiful color of molten silver mixed with hues of deep blue. Strands of black hair fall loosely over his features, and it suddenly hits you how goddamn beautiful he is. It makes your heart pound rapidly in your chest.

“You don’t need to be scared about vengeance or betrayal. I’m not going to let anyone in the group hurt you or put you down. If you don’t believe they won’t attempt anything because they’re decent people and you’ve proven yourself enough already, then at least believe they won’t try anything funny because I won’t allow it.”

“Keep your chin up,” he says as he gently tilts your face up, “and do what you have to do. I’ve seen what you can do. You’re capable as hell. I don’t want you to waste yourself because you’re scared some people might remember the past. As long as you’re in this group, you’re under my protection, so stop caring about what they think. Got it?”

You want to say something, but you’re too stunned by his words. Too stunned by the gentleness of his voice.

My protection. Those two words ring louder in your ears than anything else he said, or could've said. You’re under someone’s protection. And not just someone’s, but Levi’s. At this realization, a strangely warm feeling sets in your chest. Combined with his intent eyes on you, it's almost overwhelming. It's dizzying.

“Alright,” your empty brain barely manages, although it comes out more like a breathless whisper than anything else. 

His hand drops from your chin, and you try your best to ignore the empty feeling this leaves behind on your skin. But he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“If I see you sinking into yourself around them like that one more fucking time, it’s me you’ll have to be afraid of.”

You can’t help but laugh a little at that. "I’m already shaking in fear.” 

A faint smile catches his lips, but before you have time to relish the rare sight, he gets up. “We should go, it’ll probably take a whole while before we get those tunnels mapped. Take your knives. I’ll grab a lantern and something to draw the map on.”

He walks away, and as he leaves the room, you tuck your throwable dagger away. You’re about to do the same with the knife your father gave you, but when your eye catches the flower motif on the handle, you can’t help but trace your fingers over the pattern once more. When you were younger, your mother told you about endless fields of flowers, of all colors you could think of. Every time you walked past merchants who sold plants and bouquets — something that rarely happened — you tried to imagine those fields; colorful red, pink, yellow, and orange scattered over endless green. And whenever you look at your knife, you remember those non-existing memories. A reminder that there still may be beautiful things out there waiting for you. Although the flower fields you’ve pictured through the years might not match reality at all, you’ve always held onto those images nonetheless. 

And maybe you’ll soon be able to replace them with new ones. Real ones.

You feel Levi watching you before you even turn around to look. He’s leaning against the frame of the door, wearing a dark cape and carrying a bag in his hands while eyeing you silently.

“You ready?” he asks.

You nod, giving the flower motif a last glance before slipping it into your knife holder. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

“Ready?”

You want to say no, because the tunnels are not looking particularly pleasant today.

You’re standing with Levi at the entrance of the subterranean tunnel network. With an expression that must look the exact opposite of enthusiastic, you stare at the decaying stairs that lead to a dark pit of hell. Around the entrance lie broken glass and empty bottles of liquor, and you wonder how many drunkards have entered the tunnels and never found their way back. The mere thought makes you shiver. 

The fact you almost died in these tunnels—because of the man standing in front of you no-less—is not adding to the appeal either. This place is already bad enough on its own, so to top that off with horrifying memories? No thanks.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Levi mutters under his breath. 

His dark cape flutters loosely behind him as he starts to walk down the ominous stairs. Body filled with hesitation, you stare at the darkness that is quite literally nightmare fuel. After a few seconds, Levi stops. He turns to look at you, eyes accusatory.

“Don’t you dare back out now. Get your ass down here, runt.”

“Fine,” you grumble. You give him a double-take. “And don’t look at me like that. You do realize you almost killed me last time we were both here, right?”

“I’m well aware,” he answers dryly as he turns around and continues his march forward. “Now get the fuck down here before I make history repeat itself.” 

With an obnoxiously loud sigh, you force your legs forward. Darkness engulfs you as you descend the stairs, and the air becomes slightly cooler and thicker. It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust. Not that this makes things any better, really, because now you have to stare at two long tunnels that lead to infinite darkness. 

Unfortunately, you entered an area that is very poorly lit. Not all areas in the caverns are this bad; some parts are fully illuminated with torches or flickering lights, and other parts are slightly illuminated by the few holes that serve as excess drainage for the city. It reminds you of the meager rays of sunshine that manage to enter the Underground during the day, which is definitely not enough.  

In the part of the tunnels you are in now, however, the only source of light is the entrance behind you.

“We’ll need that lantern,” you tell Levi as you eye the two dark paths before you, not bothering to keep the disdain out of your voice.

He fishes out a sheet of paper, a pencil, and a lantern out of his bag. While you take over the tools to map the tunnels, Levi turns the lantern on, illuminating the dark path before you with a warm glow.

“I’m not gonna lie Levi, I have no idea how to do this,” you tell him as you stare at the empty page in front of you. “I’ve drawn maps before for my own little missions, but this tunnel network is a whole other level.”

“We’ll manage,” he simply mutters. The lantern’s flickering flame casts warm light over his features, making his pupils dance in the darkness. “We should take note of which areas are lit.”

You nod. “Yeah, we could make use of the darkness when devising a plan.”

“How much do you remember of this place?” He stares at the two paths in front of you, likely doing the same thing you’re doing: attempting to recall the infinite network of dark tunnels.

“Most of it just stayed in my short-term memory, and, well, it’s gone now. I wouldn’t really be able to find my way here. But there are probably parts that I remember better than others.”

“Let’s hope so,” he mumbles. “This place is a fucking maze.”

After a brief discussion, both of you decide to take the tunnel on the right to start the exploration. The expedition happens in silence, partly because you have to focus on mapping your paths, partly because both of you need to stay alert. The massive trade you will be sabotaging isn’t the only deal that happens in these tunnels, after all. You’re not looking for unwanted attention. As a result, the only sounds that echo from the cold walls are your quiet footsteps, and very occasional screeching noises that give you a heart attack every damn time. God, there are too many rats in this place. Evidently, Levi side-eyes you whenever you jump at a sound, and you can swear there’s always hidden mock dancing in his eyes.

Despite the silence, Levi’s presence makes the experience more bearable than you thought it would be. A funny thing, considering there’s not a soul in this city who would willingly go down here alone with Levi, who is rumored to be the embodiment of danger itself. But thanks to his protective words from earlier at the hideout, his presence makes you feel better. Last time you were exploring this place, it was terrifying. You were afraid of getting lost, and even more afraid of walking in on a deal or a threatening individual. Coming face-to-face with the wrong person could’ve easily meant your end, after all. But with Levi here, the whole experience feels a lot safer.

Well, that is, until you end up in an area that feels a little too familiar.

“Isn’t that the place we…”

Levi glares at you. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. You’re at the place he almost fucking killed you. You remember the sheer panic when you heard your own blade crashing right next to your ear, and you cannot believe you’re standing right next to the man who nearly slaughtered you that day.

You glance at him, watching the orange lantern-light cast sharp shadows across his face. It certainly doesn’t make him look any friendlier.

“Did you miss on purpose back then?” you ask, though you’re not sure you want to know.

“I didn’t miss. But yes, I was aiming for the hood of your cape,” he says with a tone so casual, he might as well be discussing what he had for dinner last night.

“The hood of my cape,” you repeat incredulously. “Couldn’t you have chosen a better spot? That’s ridiculously close to my head, it’s a miracle you didn’t crush my skull. ” 

He lifts a brow. “And you think I cared?”

“You owe me such a big apology,” you tell him through narrowed eyes. 

He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t have been so reckless to rob me.”

“Not helping here Levi, you’re just making your apology list infinitely big.”

“Not as big as my impatience around you, and I mean that in the most insulting way possible.” He turns around and continues forward, “C’mon, I don’t want to be here all fucking day. The air reeks of shit and rotting corpses. It’s even worse than above.”

The air is musty at best, but you’ll ignore his dramatic overstatement.

You continue your exploration of the tunnels, and unsurprisingly, Levi turns out to be a fast learner. He recognizes his surroundings quickly, and when you switch roles—that is, him doing the mapping, and you keeping an eye on your environment—he gets the hang of it rather fast. Granted, things are uneventful, and since the tunnels are so complicated, it takes what must be hours before a significant part of the area is mapped. Luckily, things go much smoother than when you had to discover these tunnels on your own.

After about five million years, your legs become so tired you can barely keep up anymore. When you walk past a set of crates scattered on the ground—undoubtedly ones you dragged here two weeks ago—your steps falter, and you ask (or rather, plead) Levi for a little break.

As the both of you sit down, each on a crate opposite to each other, you tip your head back and let out a blissful groan, mixed with the biggest sigh of euphoric relief. You nearly miss the way Levi rolls his eyes at your theatrics. The fact he doesn’t seem to relate to your reaction in the slightest makes you briefly wonder if he’s ever even experienced intense bliss. You try to picture him then; eyes closed, head tipped back, lips slightly parted or curled up in a breathless smile, mind weightless and body in a transcendent state of intense pleasure. You can barely imagine it. Whenever he isn’t indifferent and detached, he’s guarded or darkly on edge. Or, occasionally, in a vicious state of cold ruthlessness. Even getting him to smile is a near-impossible feat. So eradicating whatever darkness constantly crowds his mind, and managing to actually make him feel good is nearly unthinkable. You’d have to be the most powerful being on earth to achieve that, really. But to be honest, just the thought of him like that, in such an unguarded state of pleasure, is surprisingly… attractive. Somewhere in the corners of your mind, you start to wonder what one would have to do to get him in such a state, but you banish the thought before you have time to think about things you should definitely not be thinking about.

You clear your throat. 

“Where do you think they’ll make the deal?” you ask, trying to stop your mind from going to whatever cursed direction it’s tempted to go.

Levi studies the map as he thinks your question through. All the while, he fishes a flask of water out of his bag, and brings it to his lips. The way his throat bobs each time he swallows is not helping you deter your mind from the place it should not be going.

“Here,” he finally says as he taps his finger on the map. “That little cavern right there is one of the only larger spaces down here. It’s like a perfect circle, with four tunnels leading to it. There’s a bit of light from the drainage above but not too much, and it isn’t too far away from two main entrances. It’s perfect for a trade.”

You take the map and study it. He’s referring to a place you passed by not too long ago: an intersection between four tunnels, large enough for several people to stand in and meet. He’s right, it’s an ideal place, so you nod and add, “It’s also not too complicated to get there, so it’s a perfect spot.” 

He hums in agreement, but as he glances at you, he does a double-take. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just a little tired,” you mumble, feeling the exhaustion wearing your body down. “I just need a minute.”

As you close your eyes to rest, you hear him rumble through his bag. 

“Eat this.” 

He holds out a piece of bread. You look from his offering to him. “For me?”

“Who the fuck else?”

You can’t help it. You laugh. Sometimes you wonder why he always balances his sweet actions with sour words. It’s as if kindness is something he’s able to act on but not able to act out. As if softness is something he’s so unaccustomed to showing to others, that when he does it anyway, he automatically wraps it in a package of indifference and bluntness.

But you don’t have any urge to act indifferent. So you accept the bread, and split it in two. When you hand him a piece, he shakes his head.

“Why not? We’ve been here for a while, you must be hungry too,” you argue.

“This place is infested with rats and smells like dog shit. I’ve got no appetite, eat it. And I don’t want you to get light-headed, I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of here.”

You snort lightly. “I’m not gonna faint Levi, I’m fine.”

But he simply ignores you.

Not one to keep refusing nutrients you direly need, you give up on your quest to keep Levi well-fed and accept his piece of bread. You eat and rest in silence, too tired to start a conversation. Not that Levi is a big conversationalist anyway, which at the moment, you’re thankful for.

After a few minutes, your legs are somewhat recovered and your body feels more energized.

“We should get going,” Levi proposes, breaking the silence. “I don’t want to stay here for—“ 

He halts.

There was a noise. A very faint noise.

The both of you sit in silence, frozen and bodies alert.

Another distant sound echoes in the tunnels, and Levi immediately turns off his lantern, signing for you to remain quiet with an index finger on his lips. Neither of you move or make a sound, both blending perfectly in the darkness with your dark capes. 

Faint voices can be heard from a distance. You can’t make out what they’re saying, but it’s coming from the direction of the nearest entrance. Levi stands up. You follow him as he slinks forward, towards the source of the sound. He doesn’t make a single noise as he moves, his body in perfect control. It’s like you’re both silent cats in the night, moving in sync. You’ve known he’s stealthy for a while now, but you can’t help but be impressed nonetheless. And considering he assumes you will follow in utmost silence, he must know the extent of your abilities too. Despite the adrenaline in your veins, you’re hit with a strange feeling of satisfaction. The fact you’re both moving as one reminds you of the times you used to sneak around with Luna when you were children. It felt right, then. And in a strange way you can’t explain, this feels right too. 

You slink down a few tunnels, and as you near the entrance, you both carefully slow your pace. Shifting positions, you silently creep to the very end of the corridor with your back against the wall, Levi slinking right behind you. You peer over the corner and stare at the stairs at the end of the tunnel, which leads directly up to the city. You don’t see anyone, all you see is the city light pouring down, but you’re certain there must be people up the stairs. 

When Levi leans over you to glance along, you beckon him closer with one finger. 

“Those voices came from the entrance, right?” you whisper in his ear. You have to do your utmost best to keep your focus as you breathe in his soft scent; lavender tea and fresh soap.

He glances at the entrance, then brings his lips to your ear. “I think so. They’re probably upstairs,” he breathes quietly, his lips so close that a few strands of feathery dark hair brush your cheek, making you shiver at the touch. 

When he looks around the corner again, you become hyperaware of the way you’re caged in by him. His hand is pressed against the wall behind you, and his body is close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him. Your heart is beating rapidly, and something tells you it’s not just because people seem to be creeping near the entrance. 

Your attention is immediately drawn away from him when footsteps descend the stairs. 

“Nobody will see us, don’t worry,” a male voice murmurs quietly.

You make out two figures appearing before you retreat to stay out of sight. Levi does the same, and you both stare at each other in silence. The slight crease in his brows indicates he’s on edge.

“You sure this is a good place?” a female voice responds as the footsteps approach in your direction.

Levi leans into you, his lips almost brushing the shell of your ear. “We should go, they’re heading down here.”

Before he has the chance to move away, you grab him by the shirt to stop him. He frowns and glances down at your hand holding his shirt near his stomach. Then, he looks back at you, realization dawning on his features. The footsteps have stopped.

You both stare at each other in silence as you listen. 

There’s a sound of rustling fabric, making Levi frown. 

Then, there’s another sound.

Is that…?

Levi rolls his eyes so hard he must be straining a muscle. Hungry kisses and harsh breaths fill your ears, and you have to purse your lips to prevent a burst of laughter. Levi looks utterly fed up, making it even harder to suppress noises of amusement.

“Fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath, so softly you can barely hear it.

But the sounds the two love birds are making quickly change to something else. 

A wanton moan suddenly echoes in the air, causing both you and Levi to stiffen.

This is quickly followed by a groaned “Fuck,” and the lewd sound of skin hitting skin. Your eyes widen in disbelief and Levi stares back at you with a similar expression. Your gazes lock for about three seconds while the obscene sounds fill the tunnels, before Levi darts his eyes away from you. It’s as if he can’t bear to look at you while the air is filled with breathy moans and gasps of pleasure.

He grumbles out an irritated curse and tugs at your cloak, urging you to change directions. Not one to protest in unbearably awkward situations, you follow him as he makes his way through the tunnels. Meanwhile, it becomes increasingly more difficult to hold in your laughter as you get further away from the scene. The fact Levi is walking at a notably faster pace than usual is not helping you contain your amusement either.

With the sound of heaving breaths, soft moans, and wanton whimpers assaulting both of your ears, you speed to the deeper parts of the tunnels. However, you quickly arrive at a place you haven't mapped yet, causing Levi’s steps to falter.

“We should—“  

He’s interrupted by a loud moan that resonates through the entire tunnel network, the sound high-pitched and euphoric.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, holding the bridge of his nose in utter exasperation.

You fight back a laugh, but unfortunately, you’re losing the battle. Levi, on the other hand, is not amused in the slightest. Groans and breaths seem to spill out of the walls, vibrating all around you, and you’re quite certain that if you let discomfort overthrow humor, you’re doomed. Hence, you make no effort to repress your amusement. When he notices you’re fighting for your life to hold back a laugh, he lets out a frustrated sigh. With another mumbled curse, he urges you further down the tunnels while you tighten your lips to stop any noise from escaping. Both of you manage to distance yourself rather quickly, but not before hearing a shockingly loud cry as the woman orgasms. You turn to look at Levi and see his eyes widen in disbelief as the moans of climax echo loudly inside the entire tunnel network. The view is so astronomically hilarious that you can’t help but burst into laughter. You desperately try to muffle the sound by covering your mouth, but that doesn’t prevent Levi from shooting deathly glares, hissing at you to shut the fuck up.  

But you can’t stop, and before you know it, Levi impatiently grabs you by the wrist and drags you further down the tunnels to distance you both from the remaining groans and pants that are still echoing against the walls, clearly having had enough of your bullshit, and the entire situation.

When you manage to calm down, he lets go of your wrist.

“You finally done being a fucking idiot?” he snaps as he stops to look at you.

Even in the darkness you can make out his irritated expression, and you choke back a laugh. “C’mon, that was hilarious.” 

“No it wasn’t. Your humor is garbage and it was a shitty waste of time. And you know what would’ve been even less hilarious? If the crazy fucks who tend to hang around this place heard your voice and got curious.”

You bat your eyelashes. “But you’d protect me, right?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” 

You swallow back a laugh. “Damn, hearing those people have sex really soured your mood.” 

He gives you a warning glare.

His irritation only makes you want to seek it out more, maybe because you just got out of a laughing fit, maybe because you subconsciously want to prevent things from turning awkward. Either way, you can barely contain your amusement, and the urge to tease him rises by the second.

“A bit of a prude huh?” you ask sweetly, unable to suppress a coy smile. “That’s alright, nothing to be ashamed of.”

He looks at you with an expression of raw disdain and disgust. “I’m not. I just have no interest in listening to two people fucking.”

He looks like a grumpy cat. Your smile only broadens.

“Has anyone ever told you how unbearably fucking annoying you are?” he chides.

You can’t hold back a snort. Judging by his utterly unamused expression however, it seems you’d better stop irritating him for your own sake. You’re too young to die.

“Alright alright, I’m just messing with you. Relax.” Your smile, however, still doesn’t entirely vanish from your lips.

Frankly, it looks like he might murder you on the spot. 

… Maybe it’s time to properly backtrack.

“Fine,” you relent with a sigh, throwing your arms in the air. “I shouldn’t have been so loud. And yes it was a waste of time. Honestly, we should’ve known.”

“We should’ve, but to be fair, who the hell comes down here for that? This place is fucking musty, and it’s probably the best place to attract the wrong onlookers. The only people who come down here are either batshit insane, or they’re shady fucks who make deals that surpass the definition of messed up. Do those two idiots want trouble?”  

“I mean, that’s probably the reason they do it,” you counter, shrugging lazily. “You know, it can be kinky, danger and thrill.”

He pauses. Then, he frowns. “You’re into that?”

Your skin warms a little. “What? No. Well—“ you suddenly remember how you moaned when Levi traced a sharp knife over your skin and wrapped his fingers around your throat. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

He lifts a brow, and something about his expression makes you suspect he thoroughly enjoys getting you all flustered and uncomfortable. 

“You don’t know?” he repeats.

Now, true heat creeps up your neck. “I mean, I wouldn’t know, I haven’t tried.” You pause and hesitate. “—Well, not really,” you quickly slip out, wondering if that experience with Levi counts as a form of trying. It’s suddenly incredibly hard to keep looking him in the eyes, and you wonder if he’s replaying the same memories you are replaying. Him whispering in your ear, ready to destroy you; you crumbling under his touch.

He stares at you, and after a few seconds, the corners of his lips twitch for a brief second before he licks his lips to hide his amusement.

The fucker clearly enjoys the switch of roles, with you being in the uncomfortable position now.  

“How am I supposed to interpret not really?” 

“You’re not supposed to interpret it at all. It’s none of your business.” You do your utmost best to sound unbothered and dismissive, but you know damn well you’re not fooling anyone here. He’s winning.

He slowly tilts his head, a hidden hint of dark amusement dancing in his eyes. “Are you trying to tell me you’d enjoy doing it here? Like those filthy pigs from earlier?”

You want to answer, but words are failing you. 

Levi is asking you if you’d want to get fucked here in these tunnels. That, while you two are standing alone in the dark, no one around but you two. A rush of burning heat creeps up your face, making you nearly choke on air.

“Hmm. A little bit of a prude too I see,” he adds dryly.

You blink in complete disbelief. There’s no way he just—

He breathes out a small, quiet laugh. “Relax. I’m just messing with you,” he mirrors again, voice coated with dry sarcasm.

Before you can respond, he turns around, his voice turning utterly bored again. “Come on, let’s go, we need to move. We’ve mapped this part of the tunnels already, we have to get back to the east side.”

For a moment, you just stare at him walking away, still trying to process the counterattack of mock you were just victim of. You didn’t see his petty comeback coming in a billion years, yet you should’ve fucking known he would throw your little attempt at sass right back at you. When he stops and turns to look at you with a raised brow, you snap out of your state of disbelief and follow him along. Meanwhile, you try your damnest to hide any evidence of your flustered state.

You tightly grip the map in your hands, making great attempts at focussing and giving Levi directions on which paths to take, but it’s getting increasingly more difficult. Your neck and face are still heated, and your heart is still beating faster than it should. All you can think about is the conversation you just had, and the euphoric noises that floated around both of you earlier. The moans of pleasure and the heaving breaths still ring in your ears, and as much as you try to stop it, your brain is unable to tune it out. Those salacious sounds might as well still be echoing against the walls, because you sure as hell keep hearing them again and again in your mind. The fact Levi just asked if you’d enjoy fucking someone down here is not helping the damn situation either. It’s clear he just did so to mess with you and get back at you, to make you uncomfortable and eradicate your sass, but Lord knows he succeeded. 

None of you say a word. You walk through the tunnels without a single exchange. While the silence was relaxing and felt natural earlier, it is now slowly being replaced by something… tense. As the minutes pass by, it becomes more and more apparent. More noticeable. More suffocating. You hope you’re the only one who feels it, but somewhere, you doubt it. What are the chances he isn’t thinking about the echoing moans, or the conversation you both had about kinky pleasure and sex in the tunnels?

Your mind wanders back to your thoughts from earlier. The thought of Levi in a state of pleasure, letting loose and allowing himself to feel good. He doesn’t strike you as a promiscuous guy — he seems a bit too distant and unapproachable for that — but at the same time, he’s very good looking and you have yet to find an Underground citizen who doesn't have experience in that field. Before you can stop it, you imagine him indulging in such pleasures; kissing, touching, breathing hard, the sounds he would make if he—

You shut your eyes in disbelief. Stop. What the hell is wrong with you? 

Other thoughts, you force yourself.  

But when searching for other thoughts, your mind remains blank. There aren’t any distractions, you’re surrounded by quietness and darkness. The only thing you hear are your footsteps, and his. The only thing you see is the dark path in front of you, and the surrounding walls, keeping the two of you isolated from the rest of the world. You’re acutely aware of Levi’s silent presence right next to you, and you’re also acutely aware that sex could very well be on his mind too.

The rustling of fabric, the grunting and the kissing, the moans of ecstasy, and the pleasure-filled panting; you were surrounded by it for whole minutes and now you have to pretend it doesn’t fill your body with sexual urges. Could he be feeling those urges too? Could his mind be clouded by the same hunger you’re trying to fight back? You’re truly alone with Levi. It’s just you and him, in some dark corridors under the ground, no one else in sight, and technically speaking….

Nope. Don’t go there.

You pretend to stare at the map in your hands. Yes, that’s right, focus. You’re nearly back in an area you haven’t mapped yet, which means you’ll have something to concentrate on.

Focus.

Focus.

… Fuck.

You envision him pressing you against the cold brick wall, kissing you hungrily and roaming your body with his hands. You can feel his fingers under your shirt, greedily gripping your body, lips on your neck and harsh breaths on your skin. You imagine grabbing his soft hair, feeling the heat of his skin as you claw your fingers over his back muscles.

Fuck’s sake.

With a deep inhale, you mentally curse your mind for invading you with such images. You curse your entire body for heating up at the thoughts. And you especially curse Levi’s presence right next to you, which you’re hyperaware of in the most problematic way. You don’t even dare to look at him, scared he’ll realize what thoughts you’re trying to hide from him.

You just need to think about something else. Anything. It can’t be that hard.

But there’s nothing that can distract you from the vivid images that are invading your brain.

All you can think about is both of you getting lost in these tunnels and losing control, succumbing to primitive hunger. Would Levi be the type to impatiently tear your clothes out of the way? Or would he slowly open your buttons at a torturous pace, teasing your neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses as he purposely drives you to insanity? The thought alone makes your entire body tingle, creating an ache between your legs you can’t ignore. You envision him kissing you in the darkness, movements growing more heated and frustrated in time. You want him to ravish you, to lose control, to lash all his frustrations onto you with his hands, lips, and body. You can feel him lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, feverishly kissing you, and groaning against your lips as he presses you against the wall and—

“Are you even mapping still?”

“…W-what?”

Levi quirks a brow and stares at the map in your hands, before pointing at an empty spot on the page. “We’re around here. You haven’t been keeping up at all.” 

You blink at the map. 

Oh.

Fantastic. Now you’re caught red-handed.

“Sorry, I uh… I was distracted there for a sec.” Your eyes dart back up to him. As expected, his brows are creased in utter annoyance.

But… there’s something else. You can swear there’s something else on his features. You’re not sure if you’re just projecting or if it’s really there, but you feel like there’s something slightly different about his stance. A slight twinkle of discomfort. 

You swallow. He’s feeling it too. The sexual tension that is clogging your brain. You’re suddenly painfully aware that he might be suspecting what’s going on in your mind as well. 

Could he know you were fantasizing about him? Could he be seeing it on your face? There’s no way he doesn’t. Fuck.

You open your mouth, but don’t know what to say. The situation has reached a level of discomfort you can barely handle. 

He clicks his tongue in irritation and tears the map out of your hands. “I’ll do it.” He relents in annoyance. “Make yourself useful and keep an eye on where we go.” 

He doesn’t look at you again, and you’re quite certain he’s avoiding eye contact, but you just nod and follow along.

The awkwardness doesn’t fade. In fact, it increases by the second. Levi doesn’t look at you, and you don’t look at him. You both pretend to be entirely focused on the task at hand. All the while, you invest all your energy into pushing back lewd images of him fucking you against the wall. Holy shit what the hell is wrong with you.

For the billionth time these past few weeks, you curse your life. Your brain. Your entire existence. Your ancestors, for bringing you into this world. Your—

A noise abruptly interrupts your thoughts. 

Levi stops in the midst of his tracks, eyes flashing forward, as if tracking the sound with his pupils.

Low murmurs — male voices — echo against the walls, causing you to stiffen. After a few seconds, Levi moves forward while sliding his hood on, making it even harder to see him in the darkness. With his eyes trained in front of him like a wolf on the hunt, he signs for you to follow him with two fingers. You both soundlessly walk through two tunnels, until you can make out what the voices are saying. They’re only one tunnel away, and it seems there are two men present. 

“Where the hell do these crates even come from? They always been here?” one of them asks quietly, as you and Levi soundlessly move closer.

“Dunno, don’t really care,” the other one mumbles. 

“You think Rocco’ll want us to take ‘em away?”

Levi turns to look at you, and despite the darkness of the tunnels and the shadows his hood casts across his features, you recognize the knowing look in his eyes. These are Rocco’s men. They’re here for the same reason you are. 

“Nah, it don’t matter. We just push ‘em to the side if they’re in the way. We just gotta make sure paths are clear, that’s all.”

“You also don’t think it’s a bit early to do all this now? Deal’s in a month.”

“You don’t ever listen do you?” the other man snarls impatiently. “We gotta plan early, make sure the place we picked for the trade is right, cause only then we can choose how many boys gotta guard the place. The Upsiders want enough intel soon, and they don’t want the deal if we don’t got this place figured out good.”

You and Levi carefully approach the voices until you’re right at the edge of the tunnel. Levi is crouched before you, peering at the two men over the corner. You swallow as you notice he drew out his knife, smooth steel glistening in the darkness. He’s calm, eyes ahead on his target, unmoving.

“We’ve used this place before,” the other man grumbles. “We have a map, we already know everything about the tunnels.”

“Nah we don’t. Yesterday, Jules saw that some tunnels are collapsed in the south, that means no guards are needed down there. Bet my ass you didn’t know that.”

The other man grumbles something incomprehensible under his breath, which seems to be the end of the conversation.

Suddenly, you hear one of them stopping.

“Ah shit,” the man curses. “I think we’ve already been here. We gotta go back.” 

Levi’s gaze snaps to you. Your eyes widen. Shit. They’re walking back in your direction.

You look behind you. The tunnel is too long. You won’t get out of it in time, not if you want to stay silent. You nearly curse under your breath, but before you can make a decision on what to do, Levi gets out of his crouching position and grabs you by the arm, quickly dragging you to the stacked crates and barrels behind you. The material is pushed against the wall, and though the high stack is tall enough, it doesn’t really look wide enough to hide behind. Despite this, Levi presses his back against the cold stone wall, and you have no choice but to join, back against his chest. There’s barely enough hiding space for you two, and you highly regret not having taken larger crates down here two weeks back. The footsteps approach, and Levi’s warm hand wraps around your arm, guiding you closer to his body until you’re completely flush against him and safely out of sight. You hold your breath, feeling Levi’s steady heartbeat against your back.

“Where the hell are we even?” one of the two men complains. “Whoever made these tunnels was insane.” 

You hold your breath. Too afraid to move, frozen against Levi’s chest. 

“Tell me about it. Heard when the underground was built, some ol’ drug boss at the top wanted a good place for his secret deals and gatherings. That geezer needed a whole damn network all for himself.”

“Really?” the other one answers, voice doubtful. “Heard it was an extra escape plan, for if Titans would manage to get down here anyway. They wanted to build a big secret under-underground cavern for the filthy rich or somethin’, only accessible through sketchy tunnels. They made this whole network difficult as hell so no one would find their second lil miniature city.”

The other man scoffs. “And where’s that big secret under-underground cavern now, huh?”

“Fuck if I know. They probably didn’t make it, must’ve given up on the plan or somethin’.”

This earns him an amused snort. “Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me. Not surprised your dumbass fell for that."

“Oh shut the fuck up, Ron.”

They continue bickering about conspiracy theories and rumors surrounding this place, but it’s impossible to focus on their conversation when your entire body is pressed against Levi’s. His warm breath tickles your neck, and you’re acutely aware of all your body parts connecting: your back pressed against his chest and hard stomach, your ass pressed against his crotch, your thighs against his. You can feel him all around you, and the entirety of your focus is stolen by the heat of his body and the soft scent of fresh soap and lavender tea. Shit.  

“Anyway, who the hell cares, boss won’t be happy if we don’t get shit done. Time to stop dickerin’ around.”

You lean forward a little, just enough to peer over the crates. Trying to ignore the way this makes your ass press a little harder against Levi, you stare at the men standing further away. They’re right where you stood earlier, at the intersection of two tunnels. One of them is a head taller than the other, and the short one holds a sheet of paper, maybe a map. He’s staring at it while scratching his head, likely trying to figure out which way to go. When the tall one sighs and starts to absently look around, you immediately retreat. 

You wait a few moments.

You’re just about to take a discrete glance again, when Levi holds you back by the arm.

“Don’t move,” he breathes quietly in your ear.

His whisper is so close, it’s impossible to keep a clear head. You’ve never had this much physical contact with him before, never felt his body like this, and it’s making you dizzy. A rush of heat warms your skin, and you close your eyes in a futile attempt to keep calm. In the silence, your fantasies from previously re-emerge, despite trying your hardest to repress them. You imagine his lips ghosting over your neck, his fingers slowly teasing under the hem of your shirt, then trailing over your skin. One hand softly brushing over your waist, the other going up, fingers edging underneath your breasts. You imagine him silently ordering you to keep quiet while he touches you as he pleases, and you nearly groan at the obscene thought.

You shift again, unable to stand still due to the increasing arousal that is threatening to take your mind over entirely.

He brings his lips against your ear. “I said, don’t move.” This time, his whisper sounds strained. 

Desperate, almost.

You frown. What is he so worried about? You’re not in view. Surely, they won’t notice if you move a little b—

You stop dead in your tracks.

Oh.

Oh.

The source of Levi’s real issue is pushing right against your ass, and your jaw drops.

You’re giving Levi a boner. Your eyes widen and you’re quite sure your jaw just dislocated. 

You automatically shift again, this time because of the shock and the burning heat pooling through your entire body—especially between your legs. Behind you, Levi curses quietly under his breath. You take a quick glance behind you. His head is thrown back against the wall, eyes shut and jaw set tight. It looks like he’s mentally cursing you, himself, and the entire universe to death. You’re quite sure you’ve never seen him this tormented before. 

You quickly turn your head forward again, eyes widened. Your heart thunders in your chest, and all you can focus on is his hard arousal pushing against your body. You don’t even dare to move anymore, all you can do is press your lips together to stop any noise from escaping, because truly, you could burst into nervous laughter any moment. You quickly manage to fight it down and keep yourself together. If you get discovered, you’re fucked, and not in the literal sense, unfortunately. All the while, the arousal you were desperately trying to push back earlier resurfaces with vengeance. 

But now there’s a victorious edge to it, because it seems like you’re not the only one being plagued by unwanted desires. That, in itself, awakens a wave of uncontrollable curiosity. What images are flashing through his mind? What carnal desires is he desperately trying to repress? What things would he like to do to you if circumstances were entirely different? These thoughts combined with the pressure of his bulge against your ass makes you clench your thighs together with need, which elicits a frustrated breath out of Levi’s throat. 

Your heart is racing. This must be a fever dream, there’s no fucking way this is actually happening. 

You should be focusing on your task. You know you should. But you can’t help but feel a rush of overwhelming thrill and delicious power. A few weeks back, he was the one who pushed you on your knees and managed to elicit a moan out of you, humiliating you in the process. Now, it seems like you have the upper hand. Maybe it’s time to humiliate him back.

The more you toy with the idea of tormenting him, the more the idea gains its appeal, and the less you begin to care about the mission you’re in, or the danger of pissing him off. Being turned on really does make people stupid, but you don’t even care that your aroused brain is leaving every last bit of rationality in the dust.

With a boldness you never thought you could scramble, you turn your head and slowly bring your lips to his ear. Because of this, your body presses even harder against his, and you have to do your utmost best to ignore the way this makes your head swim.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper innocently.

You lean back to study his face, and relish the way he’s staring at you like he wants nothing more than to end your life.

Your satisfaction doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re doing this on fucking purpose, aren’t you?” he mouths silently. He looks positively murderous. 

At this, you can’t stop a smug little smile from crawling across your face. He narrows his eyes and clenches his jaw. Unfortunately for him, neither his vicious glare nor any cold words he could whisper will ever erase the hard proof pushing against your body.

It seems the two of you are even now. He made you moan, you gave him a boner. Balance is the key of life.

Unable to remove the amusement from your expression, you turn around to continue pretending you’re trying to focus on your task. The movement makes you slightly shift against him again. It isn’t intentional, but you have to admit you could be more careful. Unfortunately, the friction impacts you more than you’d like, because as much as you love to torment Levi, he’s not the only one who is suffering. The fact you’re giving him, of all people, a hard-on, and that there are only a few layers of fabric separating you both, makes you light-headed.

He leans into you. “Do you want this thing to fail? Focus and stop moving, you impetuous fucking brat.” His whisper is so quiet that it’s barely audible, but you still recognize the strain in his voice. It gives you a rush of triumph.

And just because he gave you the courtesy of pretending he never turned you on with his touch, doesn’t mean you have to do the same now.

You turn your head and bring your lips to his ear again, almost touching his skin. He draws in a quiet breath.

“You’re not focused either,” you breathe softly, so quietly it’s barely a whisper. “I can feel it. Literally. ”

When you lean back, he stares at you silently, eyes turning poisonously dark. For the briefest second, they flutter to your lips before darting back up.

He leans in closer, until there’s only a small space of air separating you both. His pupils are completely dilated, dark and deadly. From the lack of light or from arousal—you’re not sure.

“I’ll fucking kill you after this,” he mouths quietly.

You’re not sure whether you should be scared or turned on, but you're both at the same time, and you have to bite your lip to hide your overwhelming nervousness and amusement. But this gets overshadowed by something else as your gaze slowly travels from his dark grey irises down to his lips. You see it again, the way you imagined him kissing you hungrily, pushing you against the wall with frustration, and you wonder if this desire has secretly been brewing in the deepest recesses of your mind for a while now, or if it’s truly the first time you’re craving this.

You have a feeling you already know the answer.

Before you can further reflect on this, you’re rapidly torn out of your thoughts by footsteps approaching. Levi notices it too, and his dark glare vanishes instantly. He looks alarmed.

You shoot your eyes forward again. You don’t dare to move or peer over the crates this time, the men would see you immediately. Instead, you listen, frozen in place.

One step after the other. Slow, but steadily approaching in your direction. With each calm step, more adrenaline rushes inside your blood. Fuck. Did he hear you? It’s not improbable, considering how distracted you and Levi were. 

Something glimpses in the corner of your eye, and it takes you a second to realize Levi drew out his knife. It’s resting dangerously next to your hip, looking impossibly sharp. His heart beats evenly against your back as he slightly twirls it in his hand. You glance down at it. His blade is so clean that you’re able to distinguish him and yourself on the steel surface. He meets your eyes through the reflection, and without breaking eye contact, he brings his lips to your ear. 

“Be ready,” he whispers quietly, holding your gaze through his blade.

You nod and silently draw out your own knife. Your heart beats fast in your chest, more rapidly than Levi’s. You take a silent breath and focus on the calmness of his heart. It’s an anchor point that helps you tune out all distractions and thoughts. There’s only the calm thrumb of his heart, and his protective presence behind you. Nothing else matters.

Eyes forward, you mentally prepare for the rapid chain of reflexes you will have to count on in a few seconds. The steps get closer and closer.

You count in your head.

Five,

Four,

Three,

Tw-

“Hey, Ron! I’ve figured it out, we have to go through this tunnel. Let’s go.” 

The footsteps stop in their tracks. Nerve rackingly close from you.

“Coming!” he calls. 

But he doesn’t move. You grip your knife tightly, breath stuck in your throat. It's impossible to know whether this is an act or not.

After a few seconds, the footsteps start again, but this time, they’re heading the other way around. He’s walking back. Your entire body deflates, and you let your head fall back against Levi’s shoulder in relief.

You glance down at Levi's knife again, and your heartbeat quickens as you notice he's already watching you through the reflection.

“We should follow them again. You down?” he whispers quietly in your ear when the men are a relatively safe distance away.

You nod.

“If we make a single noise and they catch us, we have to get rid of them to keep their silence. I want your full focus. Can you do that for me?”

You purse your lips and nod again.

He waits until the men are out of the tunnel.

“Good. Let's go.”

Chapter Text

The moment you step away from Levi, you immediately miss the hot feeling of his body against yours. 

He brushes past you and starts slinking forward in silence, gaze darting behind him just once to make sure you’re following. Trying to ignore the way your entire body is heated from what just happened, you move along with him through the dark tunnels, keeping your steps quiet.

… Maybe you’ll actually have a chance to focus now that he isn’t pressed against you anymore. 

This time, you both remain at a safe distance from Rocco’s men. You’re quite sure Levi would rather die than repeat earlier’s incident, and something tells you he won’t ever make the mistake of sticking too close to his targets again. What an educational day for both of you.

The two men don’t say much, but their relatively loud footsteps make them almost comically easy to follow. Their shoes scrape against debris on the ground or splash in occasional puddles of water, and they don’t hold back their coughs and loud sighs either. A stark contrast to you and Levi, who blend in the dark quietness as if you were born out of it. In the silence, your attention shifts to him. He’s sneaking forward in his dark cape, looking concentrated, on guard, and also quite dangerous. He looks a lot more focused than you feel, because your mind is still entirely clouded by the incident. You’re not sure whether he’s truly concentrated or whether he’s just good at pretending, but it’s impressive either way. Whilst the sudden threat of the approaching footsteps earlier felt like a bucket of cold water extinguishing a burning flame, the remaining embers of fire are still simmering inside you, and it's impossible to pretend nothing happened. The memory of Levi’s soft breathing brushing your neck and his warm body against yours is relentlessly haunting you.

You can’t stop thinking about it. However, you’re also a little bit more lucid now that you don’t feel him around you anymore, and holy fuck the realization hits. His boner was pressed against you only a minute ago. How the hell will you two ever recover from this?

God, if only you had known teaming up with him would be so distracting. This is a damn problem. 

The silence is suddenly broken by one of the men, which snaps you back to focus.

“How many of us do you think will be guardin’ around?” 

“You know Rocco, he likes control, we’ll be covering the whole tunnels. The Upsiders will just be guarding their products and the path they’ll take to get to the deal. They won’t be hanging with us too much. Best for them, cause I’m sure they’d get lost down here, then cry and pee their pants like the little bitches they are.”

The other one snorts. “Good. I don’t like those blokes. Always lookin’ at us like we’re the stinkin’ shit under their shoes. Thinkin’ they’re better and all, as if those fuckers would survive a day in this city.”

“Tell me about it. Good on Rocco for putting ‘em where they belong. If we mix up down here I might accidentally stab one of ‘em in the gut. You know how dark it gets in these tunnels.”

The other man barks out a laugh, which earns him an irritated shush.

Levi glances back at you. 

You know what he’s thinking: Rocco’s men will be the ones guarding around. You’re not sure what he thinks of it, though, or what you should think of it. It could be a good thing considering this might limit the number of guards, but it sounds mostly like a bad thing because they’re a ruthless horde of brutes. Either way, you’re putting this on your mental list of things to remember.

“But we won’t mix up," the man continues. "They’re coming from the east, so I’m thinking they’ll be around entrance B or C. We’ll be sticking to the west, north, maybe south.” 

“Good. Well, except that Upsiders always have fancy ass guns. Wouldn’t be too bad to have some of those around.”

“It’s fine, we have guns too. Not that many, but we don’t need ‘em anyway. Word hasn’t been out about this trade, Rocco would know if it had, and he’d skin us alive. If you ask me, I don’t think much will happen.”

“About that…” There’s a moment of tense hesitation. “We shouldn’t talk about all this here. Place isn’t safe until we do our one big check.”

Levi meets your eyes. His expression is as impassive as always, but you suspect he’s mentally cursing the situation as well. Seems like this might be the end of your eavesdropping session.

There’s a grumble of agreement, and after that, the two men fall silent. Occasionally, they mumble something about the stacks of crates they come across, or they complain and groan when they have to push them out of the way to clear the path, but besides that, nothing much is being said. 

Things are uneventful again, but surprisingly, you become neither bored nor impatient. There’s something oddly thrilling about slinking around with Levi and moving in perfect coordination with him. It’s like you’re both silent predators in the night, balancing each other out in exactly the right way. You’d almost say you’re a dream team, except it’s incredibly hard to focus around him since those damn moans resonated against the walls. You’re fighting for your life to keep the horny thoughts at bay, and it’s getting increasingly more difficult by the minute.

Maybe you two aren’t such a perfect match after all.

A while passes before the men approach an exit. They halt their steps, pausing in hesitation. You can hear them grumble something about being tired, and about letting the others check the rest of the tunnels. Once they both agree to call it a day, they start marching up the exit.

You peer around the corner, squinting at the city light pouring down the exit as the two men trudge up the stairs. Their boots shuffle heavily against the debris on the ground as they disappear out of view.

“What now?” you whisper to Levi, who is peering over the corner with you — at a safe distance from you this time, of course.

“We’re done here,” he answers coolly without looking at you. “I’ll follow them and see if they spill out something else. You go home and start brainstorming a plan. The information we got now should be enough to get you started.”

You eye him for a brief second. “You don’t need to go alone. I can help you follow them, you know?” 

“No.”

“But I could—“

“You’re joking if you think that’s a good idea after pissing me the fuck off. Consider yourself lucky we have a reason to separate, I’m doing you a favor.”

You open your mouth, then close it again and swallow. You want to say something to counteract the way your skin heats up, but before you have time to, he brushes past you and marches towards the exit.

“What about the rest of the map?” you urge as you follow him, trying to catch up.

“There isn’t much left. I’ll finish it tomorrow.”

He walks up the stairs, then stops and turns around. You shield your eyes a little to look up at him, still unused to the brightness of the city light pouring down behind his back.

“Come by in a day or two,” he orders in a low voice. “You better come up with something good.”

Without another word, he turns around. Aghast and slightly offended, you stare at him as he leaves you, dark cape waving behind him till he disappears out of view.

…. Seems like he’s not too keen on going to the tunnels with you again. Or, well, anywhere with you, for that matter.

Isn’t that just splendid.

At least he hasn’t yet fulfilled his promise to kill you, so there’s that. He’s clearly rejecting you to keep himself from slaughtering your ass, which, to his credit, is very honorable of him. Nothing quite like a man with heroic self-restraint. 

With a deep sigh, you march up the stairs, relieved to finally leave those cursed tunnels behind. You catch a glimpse of Levi right before he rounds the corner of a broken building and disappears into the city. 

Somewhere, you’re mildly tempted to follow. Not because you need any more of him, but because you want to know more about Rocco’s gang. They sound dangerous but you’re intrigued, and you wouldn’t mind the adrenaline. Also, you don’t like being left out of a mission you know you could’ve performed well. Or at least decently. Acceptably. You may be a little incapacitated due to your raging hormones, if you’re being perfectly honest.

Yes, it has been a long day, and your limbs are exhausted, but that’s not the damn point.

Levi gave you orders, though, and he’s clearly dangerously close to digging your grave, so there’s no need to push your luck. If anything, this is probably for the best. You still haven’t processed everything that happened, and it's true that being around Levi would be way too distracting. In a few days things will hopefully have cooled down between you two (at least you hope so), but right now, a little bit of space could do you good.

So you turn and march home, mind absent as you distance yourself from the decrepit buildings surrounding the tunnel’s exit. As you calmly walk through the more familiar areas of the city, you start to feel the exhaustion of the day weighing your entire body down. It’s a wonder you were able to map a huge part of the tunnels in one day and get important information about the heist. The only thing you’ve got to do now is think about the best way to go about the mission. 

That’s an issue for tomorrow, though. You’ve done enough today. You deserve some rest and maybe a leg massage.

As you walk through the cramped alleyways and desolate streets, you force yourself to remain as focused and alert as possible. Normally you have no issue doing so. Guardedness is like second nature to you, a state you automatically fall into to make sure you’re safe. But now it takes a particular amount of effort to stay concentrated. Levi is in the corners of your mind, threatening to take your thoughts over entirely. This gets a thousand times worse once you arrive in your neighborhood and perform your usual safety check. You crawl on top of the neighbor’s building and scan the area for a little while to make sure no one followed you, but while you should be fully focused, the task is a mere background activity at this point.

You see Levi again in your mind: head thrown back against the wall while cursing quietly under his breath. You can still feel his body and his hardness against you while he watches you with deadly dark eyes.

Fuck.

Dammit. 

Dammit.

You’ve always been aware that he’s incredibly attractive, even when you hated his guts. But the attraction you felt for him in the tunnels was maddening. This is not an exaggeration: you actually lost your damn mind. The fact you teased and taunted him, and told him you felt his boner pressed against you is proof enough of that. What on God's green earth had gotten into you? Every single one of your brain cells gave up on you at once. Your panties got soaked and you acted with exactly zero tact and rationality, simply because you were in Levi’s presence. This is a goddamn fucking tragedy. 

Not that you can entirely be blamed. To have a man like Levi, who’s always in control of everything, accidentally lose control like that? Lord. How are you supposed to ever forget that happened? 

This is not okay. You’re talking about Levi here, your ex-arch-nemesis, your current boss, the leader of the gang you’ve only been in for a few days. You have to get it together before this escalates into something it shouldn’t. Getting flustered around him would make things infinitely more complicated and miserable, not to mention that it’s just plain ridiculous. You'd sooner perish than start getting the hots for a crime boss. 

Just today, you think to yourself as you descend from your hiding spot and march home, too exhausted to monitor the area any longer. Just today, you’ll allow your mind to run free. Tomorrow, you’ll tame that sinning brain of yours and banish every dirty thought away for eternity. 

But today, the memories are still too fresh, so you’ll allow free reign. 

And just like that, you perform your nightly routine: a lazy dinner, a long bath, and a hot mug of water before slipping into bed. 

All the while, your mind is only filled with things you should definitely not be thinking about.

...................

Levi releases an exhausted sigh while looking up at the stone ceiling of the city looming far above him.

What the fuck is he still doing here?

He’s sitting on the rooftop of one of Rocco’s hideouts. The two men he followed earlier briefly went inside, then parted ways to go home. As expected, Levi didn’t catch much information. Just a confirmation of everything he heard in the tunnels, really. 

The hideout has been empty for a while now, so what the hell is he still doing here?

The dishonest answer is that he’s waiting for the moment he can catch more information. It’s highly unlikely that every gang member is sleeping right now, so who knows, maybe some of them will pass this hideout tonight and slip out some information Levi could catch.

The truthful answer is that he’s avoiding home. Going home means talking to Furlan, which also means having to give a summary of today’s events. Which…. fuck no.

Levi considers himself an unreadable person. Hiding what he thinks or feels is something he’s always been good at, but unfortunately, over the years, Furlan has gotten to know him a little too well. Though he doesn’t always know what Levi is thinking, he still tends to notice when something is off, and the last thing Levi wants is to get interrogated about today's events. 

Events that should never, ever happen again. The fact it was beyond humiliating is only part of the reason why he’ll commit arson if he ever experiences something like this with you again.

Fuck. Now the memories are flashing through his mind once more. For the millionth time tonight, he mumbles out a range of curses under his breath.

He looks up, squinting at one of the few faraway holes that open up to the world above the Underground. When were the last faint rays of sunshine visible? A few hours ago, for sure. It’s late. There’s no way Furlan is still awake, so maybe he should go home and rest. It might help with the thoughts that are desperately trying to invade his brain. 

Those infuriatingly intrusive thoughts he has an awfully hard time repressing.

Deciding that enough is enough, Levi silently climbs his way from rooftop to rooftop until he’s at a safe distance from the gang’s nest. Once he’s near a familiar area, he descends the damaged building he’s on with careful agility and continues the rest on ground. As he passes cramped dirty streets and flickering lantern posts, he tries his hardest to think of future events instead of remembering the events of today. 

He only succeeds partly.

He thinks about the bath he’ll take when he’ll be home. He thinks about tomorrow, and what he’ll have to do next to plan the heist. This evidently leads him to remember the map, and you, and the tunnels, and the moans and —goddammit, here he goes again.

To his dismay, the entire walk goes exactly like this: a battle against unwanted thoughts, just like in the tunnels. He can’t believe you’re the reason he’s in this predicament. He ought to kick your ass out of the gang. It’s the least you deserve.

When he finally arrives home, he opens the door as silently as he can. He lets out a quiet sigh of relief when he notices that all the lights are off. 

Furlan is sleeping. Good.

Keeping as quiet as he can, he cleans the kitchen, eats the dinner Furlan left for him, cleans again, then warms up some water for a bath. He normally always takes ice-cold baths, but ever since the gang has been formed, he has occasionally been able to afford warm water. He has suffered enough today; he needs something to relax.

He turns a lantern on and lights the bathroom with a faint glow as he prepares his bath. When he finally slips into the hot water, a silent groan escapes him. He slowly starts to massage his muscles, which are slightly cramped due to the many fruitless hours of spying at Rocco’s hideout. 

Which, by the way, is all your fault. 

You and your damn body, your damn smile and your laugh and your teasing words. 

He can’t believe what happened today. He wanted to fucking kill you. He also wanted to touch you, taste you, and feel your pulse beneath his lips—which is a fucking disaster. 

Levi lets out a frustrated sigh. He knows that attempting to keep his head clear is useless at this point. He can’t be bothered anymore. The hot water engulfing him is only pushing him deeper into his clouded state, so for the first time today, he allows his mind to wander. He’s too tired to fight it.

He takes a bar of soap and starts massaging it into his skin while replaying the whole series of events. He thinks of the way you grew flustered when you started talking about dangerous kinks. The memory makes him smile a little. He thoroughly enjoyed getting you to shift uncomfortably and making you avoid his gaze while you stumbled over your words. Something about your reaction makes him suspect you were remembering the same thing he was thinking about: the time he held you at knifepoint and discovered what your moans could sound like. It’s embarrassing, but after the incident, he had thought about that moan many times. Way more than he ever expected he would. 

And as much as he absolutely hates to admit it, he craves to hear it again now.

He lets out an irritated groan and rubs his skin a little more harshly. What the hell is wrong with him?

It’s an issue. A real issue. And the fact it’s not just one-sided makes it so much worse. When he first noticed how flustered and uncomfortable you were after both your ears got assaulted by that couple, he thought you were simply thinking about those sounds. He thought that you were just embarrassed or maybe slightly riled up, but that it was a general feeling due to the circumstances. The tension was thick, but he didn’t think it was any deeper than that. 

That was until your eyes met his, and your sharp embarrassment made it abundantly clear it wasn’t just about that couple. It was about him too. You were thinking about him. The way you looked at him like you were caught in the midst of an embarrassing act couldn’t have made it any more obvious.

How the hell was he supposed to keep a clear head after that?

That was the exact moment things spiraled. It was already bad before, walking around with you while surrounded by those damn moans and whimpers. But after that? It’s like those sounds had gripped his mind and dragged him to a forbidden place he never wanted to be. He knows that the moans themselves weren’t what drove him to insanity; he had heard enough of those in the far past, in a context that was all but positive. The sounds themselves would have only irritated him in another place and time, but today they had a different effect because they were combined with your presence at his side, and his knowledge that you were likely thinking about him.

He lost all control then. He couldn’t stop it; he wondered about the taste of your lips, about the feeling of your skin against his, the feeling of your thighs in his grip, the sound of your whimpers as he’d savor your skin. All this, while you were right next to him. The treacherous part of his godforsaken brain wondered—wonders—many things, which is quite fucking alarming, to say the least.

Maybe he should just drown right here and right now in this bath.

Not to mention how humiliating it was that he couldn’t even hide his hunger once it had taken him over. At least you could. Well, partly. But he couldn’t at all. 

He eyes the bathwater at the thought, and seriously contemplates dunking his head into it and never resurfacing again. What a horrible fucking day. If he could erase certain memories, he would on the spot. He doesn’t want to think about any of this ever again.

To his dismay, an image of your cocky smile flashes through his mind. Fuck’s sake. He wanted to wipe that smug look right off your face. He can’t believe you actually teased and confronted him about his state. As if you weren’t as turned on as he was, you damn hypocrite. It’s clear he doesn’t know all sides of you because he didn’t expect this, but at least now he knows you’re fully capable of acting like an insufferable brat. That’s what he gets for gaining your trust and allowing you to feel semi-comfortable around him. A damn mistake, that is.

He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and groans at the way his body is reacting to the memory of your body against his. He can feel you all over him again, shifting against his crotch while a gentle scent of flowery soap brushes his senses. He lets out a harsh breath of frustration.

He would wonder what he has done to deserve any of this, but he has probably harmed too many people in this city to dare ask such a question. Maybe he had this coming.

A question he can ask, is: what the hell had gotten into him? What brought him to imagine what it would feel like to be inside of you? To feel you panting against his skin, gripping his body as he moves to pleasure you both? 

Fuck.

He opens his eyes and observes the way his body is reacting to the thoughts. He’s gripping the edge of the bath, arm muscles tense. His chest is rising and falling, making a few pearly water droplets roll off his skin. He can hear himself breathe faster than he should.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters in the quiet room. 

Maybe he should’ve taken a cold bath instead. Or maybe he should’ve just never met you. This is a disaster. If he had known this would happen, he would’ve just let you rob the gang until you disappeared. He and the boys would have no money left, but at least you two would’ve never met, and he wouldn’t be in this damn predicament.

He looks at his riled-up body and scolds his lack of mental self-control. Unfortunately, the scolding doesn’t help in the slightest. He can't get himself to calm down. This is a nightmare.

In an unwanted flash, he imagines you right here, in the bath, straddling him, licking droplets of water off his skin, breathing hard against his neck as you roll your hips against his, moan in his ear and-

Levi throws his head back and lets out a frustrated grunt, gripping the bathtub even harder than before. What the fuck. He’s starting to get more furious than turned on now. Holy shit he wants to kill you for having this unexpected effect on him. This has got to be a fucking joke. Since when is he falling for primitive lust like this? This is just plain ridiculous.

He opens his eyes and lets his gaze to fall down to his stomach, his navel, and right below. His body has turned against him completely, of course. This bath was supposed to be relaxing, yet here he is, high on adrenaline and unwanted desire. This day couldn’t get any worse.

He briefly considers relieving himself, but quickly banishes the thought as if it’s deadly poison. He’d rather get cursed and doomed to forever be turned on and frustrated, than to ever relieve his arousal at the thought of you. The moment he does, he’s finished. Some boundaries shouldn’t be crossed, and this is definitely one.

Everything about this is wrong. He never expected things to turn like this, never thought his own mind would betray him to this extent. Whatever is flourishing between the two of you, it’s going in a direction it shouldn’t go at all. He shouldn’t even entertain the notion; the two of you ever doing anything remotely intimate. He needs to bury it so far away it never sees the light ever again.

This is the last time he’ll think about you this way. He refuses to entertain the thoughts any longer. Whatever this all is, it needs to go. It’s problematic for an infinite number of reasons, but the most important one he can think of right now is that lacking focus is dangerous. Hell, both of you nearly got caught because of the distraction today. Levi is never distracted, and it needs to stay this way. You’re both preparing a deadly mission for God’s sake, losing control and focus is out of the question.

To be fair, maybe he should’ve known something like this would happen eventually. He has felt that electricity before, those hints of attraction. It was harmless and muted until now, but he should’ve been more careful. He can’t let his guard down again.

Levi starts rubbing his skin clean until it turns red. All the while, he decides that he needs to take things in hand again. Anything that mildly enters sexual or affectionate territory needs to go. Touches, thoughts, conversations; he needs to hold the reigns on all of it and make sure nothing dangerous slips through. Besides, everything about you makes him furious currently, so he doubts he’ll show you any kind of kindness or closeness next time he sees you anyway. He might not go through with his threat to end your life, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make you wish he would.

None of what happened can ever, ever resurface again. He’ll be damned before he lets you take over his mind like this ever again. 

...................

You’re standing in your basement, eyeing the large collection of weapons pinned against the wall; dozens of knives, throwables, experimental blades, and a few crossbows.

What a beautiful sight. Your source of pride, truly. 

Unfortunately, you’re not just here to admire your collection and toot your own horn. Levi’s stern voice resurfaces in your mind: ‘You better come up with something good.’ 

Well isn’t that just splendid. Talk about some damn pressure.

You swallowed his words back then, but now that you actually have to come up with ideas, it proves to be even more difficult than you initially thought.

A suicide mission huh? How fun. And according to what Levi said, you are the reason he’s considering it to begin with. It seems he truly believes in your abilities and your potential to contribute to the group. It’s a little nerve-wracking to know that such high expectations are tied to you, because it means you could also gravely disappoint him. But truth be told, it’s also real damn flattering. Gary wouldn’t believe his ears if you explained to him that the man he once called an ‘unbeatable machine’ is now taking interest in your skills and mind.

A mind that isn’t being all too helpful right now. 

For the millionth time, you stare at the scribbled note in your hands, hoping the words will magically cause ideas to materialize in your brain.

• Upsiders only guard the path they take to the trade (via entrance B or C??), Rocco’s men will guard everywhere else
• Number of guards is unknown
• Tunnels collapsed in the south -> fewer or no guards there
• Rocco’s gang doesn’t have many guns, only Upsiders do

You exhale a long breath. You don’t know how many guards will be present, nor do you know where those guards will be, and this makes the mission particularly difficult to plan. Things might become clearer once Levi catches more information about the trade, but in the meantime, you have to work with what you’ve got.

All you can do now is start with the basics. 

You’ll have to be sneaky in those tunnels, meaning that whatever weapons you’ll use, they’ll have to be silent. Guns are out of the question—not that they’re easily accessible anyway, shit costs a fortune on the black market. Crossbows aren’t as loud as guns, but they aren’t exactly silent either, though there are ways to dampen the noise. Knives are silent, at least when killing fast, but is Levi really planning on silently killing everyone who crosses his path down there? It might be possible to sneak past several guards, but if the deal is as big as it sounds, there’s no way there will be easy access to wherever the exchange will be. The tunnels leading to the trade will undoubtedly be blocked by many guards. 

Not to mention there will be several men at the exchange itself. What are the chances you’ll be able to hijack that without making any noise? It seems impossible. Surely, if you attack them, at least one of them will be vocal and call for help. This means that if you want to minimize the risk of getting slaughtered, you’ll have to get rid of all the guards in the near vicinity who could potentially come to help out. 

That’s… a lot of guards, probably. Is Levi really thinking of eliminating them all? 

He can’t be, right? 

Then you remember what he said when you asked him if he felt something when killing.

"Hardly."

He’s the cold-blooded type of killer alright. Of course he wouldn’t mind slicing twenty throats in those tunnels, particularly since he hates Rocco’s men. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, really. This completely coincides with his reputation. The moment Gary told you about Levi’s existence, you started hearing his name surprisingly often: in Gary’s bar, when passing ominous alleys in the city, in dark pubs, and so on. You overheard stories that seemed ridiculous, such as Levi getting attacked by a gang of eight people and managing to get out unscathed. Apparently, it isn’t uncommon for thugs to fight Levi as a challenge, either to find out whether the rumors about him are true, or to prove their place and their strength. You’ve never heard of anyone winning such challenges, though. You’ve only heard stories of men being left fatally wounded. From what you've heard, it’s not only the people who attack him, but also the people who attack the boys he cares for, that end up badly wounded or even murdered.

Not to mention that you’ve heard rumors of Levi being a hitman when he was young, although you might have to check the validity of this statement.

Either way, you’re quite sure he’d slaughter Rocco’s men without a second thought. There’s no reason why he’d show any mercy to a group of thugs who involve children in their fucked up drug business. And the outsiders partaking in the deal aren’t much better either.

It seems like Levi might be a bit of an all-or-nothing person. He’ll brew relaxing tea for you and fight for his boys to get some rays of sunshine, but when it comes to people he despises, he’ll drag them to the abyss of death without a hint of hesitation.

It’s terrifying, knowing how easily he'd decimate people just to look after the ones he cares for.

It’s also a little hot.

That was a joke, of course.

Anyway.

While Levi might not give two shits about slaughtering dozens of scumbags, you can’t really say the same for yourself.  

Do all those men deserve to die? Who knows. Maybe. Probably.

Are you ready to become a mass murderer for money? Absolutely not. Levi might have successfully soothed your moral dilemmas last time, reassuring you that being a violent maniac is okay sometimes, but there are limits. You likely wouldn’t be capable of enjoying the fresh air at the surface while knowing how many people lost their lives for it. Every time you’d look at the beautiful sky above you, you’d be reminded of the dozens of men buried below you because you wanted to enjoy yourself for a few days. They may be deplorable thugs who likely deserve it, but your point still stands.

Also, turning those tunnels into a slaughterhouse will make that place even more haunted than it already is. Who wants to be responsible for that? You certainly don’t. If Levi wants to turn the Underground into a spookhouse that’s on him, but you want nothing to do with it.

How can you escape that fate, though?

Some of your group will surely have to guard outside and watch all the exits. It’s a simple precaution to make sure no enemy enters or leaves the tunnels. Also, the ones watching outside can serve as backup if things start to look alarming. Not to mention that this way, the exits can be kept free of enemy guards, so that whoever goes down to hijack the trade can go out of the tunnels smoothly. 

Maybe you can just take the easy route and let the boys do their highly questionable things down there while you guard outside.

But you have a strong feeling Levi will demand you assist him in his murderous escapade in the tunnels since your stealth is your main strength. Not only has he explicitly told you you’re good at sneaking around, but also, there’s no denying that team working with him went impressively well in the tunnels. Well, minus the incident.

Lord. You groan as you picture the events all over again in a quick flash of memory.

Anyway, back to the point.

If there’s one person who should go down there and sneak around with him, it’s probably you. It’s unavoidable. So how can you possibly get past dozens of guards down there without turning it into a complete blood bath? 

Great, two minutes into your brainstorming session and you’re already asking yourself impossible questions. Isn’t that just lovely.

You sigh and massage your brain, as if putting physical pressure on your cranium will magically pull some ideas out of there.

Evidently, it doesn’t, so you resort to releasing a defeated groan. Ugh. Maybe you should momentarily give up and head to the kitchen upstairs. Chances are you’ll be able to think better once you’ve eaten. Your brain requires fuel, but you’ve had to hold off on food lately considering your food stockpile is almost depleted. Now is not a time to hold off though, you need to think, you could honestly pass out from the hunger right n-

Your entire body halts.

Pass out.

Your eyes fly open as a distinct memory flashes through your mind.

A few years ago you fluttered through your father's old files and read about the weapons he worked on throughout his career. There was one particular section that caught your attention: one about sedatives and poisons.

Passing out. That's an option, right? 

You can't remember any of the information you read in those files, but you're sure he has done something with sedatives. The memory stayed with you because it was disturbing to imagine how many people could get their hands on such weapons, and what they could do with them. You were relieved to see your father had abandoned many of the projects, likely not wanting to be responsible for the creation of powerful ways to sedate people from a distance. It isn’t hard to imagine how much it would serve the trafficking industry, after all. Not that his refusal has made much of a difference, really, because you’ve heard of tranquilizers before. You’ve never seen a tranquilizer yourself, so it certainly isn’t a common tool, but you’ve heard enough from Gary’s stories to know it circles around. However, it’s only used by high-end crime bosses who have the means to seal deals with chemists above-surface.

If you remember correctly, your father never went through with it all, but you’re certain there is some useful information written down in those files.

With a rush of determination, you stalk to the bookshelf at the back of the basement. The dark oak planks are bent due to the weight of all the notebooks, folders, and books resting on them. All your father’s projects are on this shelf: weapons he had to make, weapons he had to ameliorate, and experimental ideas. 

You grab as many notebooks and folders as you can carry, and drag them to the living room. You put them on the table and seat yourself on the couch. As you open one of the notebooks, your movements falter. Your dad’s handwriting hits you with a wave of nostalgia, making your heart sink a little. You take a deep breath and swallow the lump in your throat, trying to tuck back the memories that are resurfacing in your mind. Ignoring the pang of sorrow this leaves, you try to focus on the task ahead. 

Page after page, you look for anything related to sedatives. During your search, you come across all sorts of weapons, mostly vast designs for knives. You halt when you come across something called a smoke bomb. You’ve heard of it before; it’s an object that ejects blinding smoke when triggered. Your eyes widen in fascination. Your father never told you that he had worked on something like this, but then again, such fancy and experimental things weren’t in his line of expertise. He mostly stuck to knives. Nonetheless, you mark the page and keep it in mind. It could be useful.

After a long while, you finally stumble upon the section you’re looking for. 

Sedatives and Poisons.

A huge grin crawls across your face. Bingo.

The first pages contain multiple crossbow and gun designs, along with darts that can be used to load whatever poison or sedative is needed. The pages after contain all the information about the poisons themselves; their effect, their required method of administration (inhalation, intramuscular injection, or intravenous injection), the ideal dosage, and so on. It’s got everything. You’re shocked to see there were this many types of sedatives and poisonous drugs already available a decade ago.

Excitement rushes through your blood. This is going to be good. The hilarious irony of drugging those men with their own products to rob them couldn’t get more beautiful. 

With that in mind, you take several sheets of paper and start brainstorming a plan.

Levi and Furlan better be pleased.

Chapter Text

Your living room looks like a battlefield. 

Multiple folders are spread wide open, scribbled notes are scattered across the table, and the small trashcan at your feet is filled with scrunched pieces of paper.

For now, you’ve planned and written down as much as you can for the mission ahead. It should be enough to make progress once you meet Furlan and Levi again. 

You glance at the clock, contemplating your options. You could go to the hideout today, but in all honesty, you’re not at all ready to see Levi again. Merely thinking about facing him fills you with reluctance. Maybe you should go tomorrow instead. 

Yes. One day of space would be good.

You release a long sigh and close your eyes. Now that the excitement of your brainstorming session is fading, you can finally calm down again.

What should you do now, though? 

The moment the question is voiced in your mind, a familiar hollow feeling starts to set in your chest. 

You recognize the feeling immediately. It’s that strange emptiness that sometimes creeps up on you out of nowhere, slowly engulfing you entirely. You’ve never understood what these episodes are, why they happen, or for how long exactly you’ve been experiencing them, but you can barely remember a time they weren’t a part of your life.

You hate the feeling so, so much.

Over the years, you’ve noticed that they often emerge once the excitement of a certain mission or event wears off. It’s like from one moment to the other, you become painfully aware of the emptiness of the house. Sometimes it hits randomly: during a cooking session, when you’re cleaning, or even during tasks that should keep you busy — such as sewing clothes and fabricating weapons. However, you’ve discovered over the years that there’s usually something that triggers it. 

As you open your eyes, your gaze falls on the notebooks scattered across the table.

Ah. There it is. Your dad’s writing. That’s what must’ve set the aching feeling off this time. 

You reach for one of the notebooks and slowly flick through the pages. Something grips your lungs as you focus on your father’s handwriting. Now that you’re reading through his work without the excitement of the mission in mind, you don’t see the weapons anymore. You only see your him.

A distinct memory resurfaces; one where he’s holding you and Luna on his lap as he shows you his notebook filled with pretty knife designs. You remember how enthralled you and Luna were, how much you laughed and gasped as you eyed his drawings in wonder. You’ll never forget the moment your father gave you both a pencil and let you add your own designs in his notebook. Though the drawings of an eleven-year-old and a seven-year-old couldn’t have possibly matched his, he purposely made you both feel like you were helping him with his work. 

You chuckle at the warm memory, but your smile falters as you once again become aware of the quietness surrounding that chuckle. 

Your throat tightens. How many times have you sat here between these cold brick walls, ears filled with the eerie quietness of the room, and mind recalling  sounds of laughter that filled the house back when it was still alive? You always come back to this: a wavering smile on your lips, a familiar sting in your eyes, and a mind trying to drown itself in the past.

Sometimes the past doesn’t feel real anymore, maybe because it was all too ordinary to remember; the conversations you had with your father, the bickering fights with Luna, the bedtime stories your mother used to read to you, the feeling of her sweater underneath your fingers as you hugged her. It’s painful to realize you’ve forgotten all those details. Back then, those events just didn’t feel important enough to cling onto. But what was once mundane is now a treasure so far out of reach that it makes your eyes sting. Every spark of happiness that filled this house is now a lifetime away, faded from your memories and gone for eternity, as if it never happened in the first place.

You think about your younger self. Were you ever aware that you’d one day ache for a regular day in which conversations were a sure thing, and the air smelled like your mother’s soup, and there was no indication that it would one day all end? Did you ever stop to think that many years later, you’d be alone in an empty house full of dead memories? Probably not. 

You wrap your hands around your legs, knees kissing your chest, feeling that dark loneliness clawing its way up your body again. 

You feel so damn alone.

You close your eyes, knowing that a long period of familiar emptiness is the next thing that follows.

After a few moments, though, something else crosses your mind. Unexpectedly, a vivid image of Paul’s laughter flashes behind your eyes.

Then you see Noah holding his guitar. Caleb bickering with Paul. Furlan smiling. Levi gently tilting your chin up and telling you you’re under his protection.

Your chest tightens even more. You’re suddenly hit with an intense sense of longing. 

All you can think of is them. What are they all doing now? Is Levi with Furlan at the hideout, sitting together in comfortable quietness? Are Paul, Noah, and the other boys laughing and chattering in a bar? The thought makes you feel even more alone, but it also fills you with something else. An aching need.

You need them.

You miss them. Overwhelmingly so, even. 

You frown at the unexpectedness of this new revelation. You’ve never thought about strangers this way. 

Well, they aren’t exactly strangers, but you haven’t known them for a long time at all. They’re part of the external world you’ve always isolated yourself from. Whether you like it or not, everything and everyone around you — with exception of your sister, Finn, and Gary — have always felt exactly like that: external. It’s always been them against you. It’s ingrained in everything you do. It’s in the way you lock your doors with multiple locks, and in the way you’re always guarded when you’re outside, only at ease when you’re with Gary or in your sisters’ arms. It’s in the way you sleep with a sharp knife on your nightstand, and in the fact you’ve never talked to any of your neighbors.

Sometimes, when you lie in bed staring at the ceiling and daydreaming, you picture the way you live: you, in a house surrounded by pitch blackness. Outside those safe brick walls you call home, darkness and danger engulf everything. Your house is lonely and quiet, stagnant and stale, but it’s also safe, and it’s home, so there’s no reason to open the door and enter the void, in which everything feels unknown and scary.

But now that you’ve met Levi and the boys, something has shifted. That mental image has changed. When you try to picture it all now, you don’t see one single lonely home surrounded by ink-black anymore. Instead, there are a plethora of homes, all lit up inside, floating in the void together. The Underground is filled with people like you, all living in their own safe bubbles, protected from the darkness of the city. It’s hard to imagine now that you one day confused those homes with a dangerous void. So many people may look like they’re part of the heartless fraction of the city, but they are far from that. People like Paul, Noah, Caleb, and Furlan, who all live in their own safe spaces too. And you can join them, explore the happiness and warmth they can provide, on the condition you step out of your own safe bubble and allow yourself to enter theirs.  

There’s one particular home that catches your interest. One that might look rough and unwelcoming from the outside, but through which rays of warmth sometimes slip out through the dark blinds. From what you’ve heard, the rumors surrounding Levi only involve the violence and the fear he evokes around the city, but he seems to hide something much softer inside. He brews tea for you and insists you eat his food when you don’t look well, and he soothes your worries and promises to protect you, likely because he suspects that’s exactly what you need. He takes care of the people who trust him, and it looks like he’s willing to go to great lengths for them.

It intrigues you. 

And something about yesterday’s mission has inflated that intrigue even more. The way he slipped through those tunnels was beyond impressive. He moved his body with utmost control, and he knew exactly what he was doing. You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone as stealthy as he is.

He’s different from you, yet similar. His agility and stealth match yours so well that it’s almost… strange. On the other hand, he also completely surpasses you, to an abnormal level even. You’ll never forget the time he came by your house and tried out your throwable knives. He had pierced the blade through the smallest target possible on his first try. His aim was damn terrifying. Not to mention that he’s generally known as the strongest thug around, with a disturbingly good fighting technique and a shocking amount of force. 

He’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen or heard of; a force to be reckoned with. Almost disturbingly so. 

As you think of him and recall every action that has impressed you so far, a wave of familiarity hits you. 

Your mind wanders off to the past, to conversations you used to have with your mother.

What if…?

No. That’s ridiculous.

You brush the thought away and try to think about something else. In an attempt to distract yourself, you get up and start to clean the mess you’ve made on the table. After a few moments, however, the thought comes back.

Minutes pass, yet the idea still doesn’t leave you. 

He couldn’t be, right…?

But then you think of everything you know about him. His strength, his skill, his intuitiveness, his stealth, his reputation, everything. It’s like you’ve planted a seed in your mind that cannot stop growing. You halt your movements and hesitate, until a wave of irresistible curiosity tugs you to your bedroom. Without fully knowing what information you’re hoping to find, you rumble through the drawings of your nightstand until you find a set of old journals.

Your old diaries. They’re worn and damaged, held together by brown covers that are falling apart.

Your parents may have always told you to never leave evidence about your family’s history, but that didn’t stop your child-self from doing so.

You flutter through the pages, eyes scanning for the word you’re looking for. 

When you finally spot it, you halt. You stare at the word: ‘Ackerman’, written in your own handwriting.

Eagerness fills you all of a sudden. As you read through the pages and soak up every sentence, old memories come back in waves.

‘Mom said they have sharp senses like us. They’re super sneaky and fast too.’ 

As you stare at the words, all you can think about is Levi in those tunnels, his senses quicker than a stray cat’s, his body moving with perfect control as if he’s been training for it since birth. How many times has he managed to sneak up on you now? You normally always catch people who try to do so, but Levi is one hell of an exception.

Your gaze travels further down the page.

‘Unlike us, they’re super strong. Like, inhumanely strong. Mom says it’s not proportional to how big or muscular they look. She even says one Ackerman can beat a whole army. Sounds a bit exaggerated if you ask me, but I’m still a bit sad I’ll never get to see one of them myself.’

You bite your lip, recalling the time you interrogated Gary at his bar. He told you that Levi is known for being abnormally strong, especially for his size. From what you’ve heard, he never loses any fights, even when he’s largely outnumbered. Gary told you he’s never heard of anything like it before.

If it wasn't for those traits, you might think Levi could descend from your family, but he doesn’t match your family’s skills at all. 

No. Instead, he sounds much more like… the Ackermans.

But the notion is so ridiculous that you almost feel embarrassed thinking about it. 

Yet, the thought doesn’t leave you. Instead, you continue reading.

‘Mama said they’re masters at using weapons and stuff too. Blades, guns, that thing the MP’s fly with, etc. She says they don’t even need much experience with it because the skills are ‘passed down’. I’m kind of jealous, to be honest. Luna and I always have to train for hours and hours even when we don’t want to. It’s cool to see we’re getting better, but it’s not going fast enough. Training is so slow and boring sometimes. Maybe if we were like Ackermans, we wouldn’t need to do all that.’

The memory of Levi handling your throwable knives flashes through your mind. He didn’t have much experience with throwables, yet he used them like it was second nature to him. It was so shocking that you sometimes still wonder whether you dreamed it all.

You stare at the pages, taking a sharp breath. You’re suddenly overwhelmed. Could Levi really…?

But he can’t be, right? Didn’t the Ackermans get exterminated by the Royal Government? 

Or did some of them manage to escape like your family? Does he have a similar background as you? Did he or his parents flee to the Underground to escape? Or are you just being hopeless and delusional?

You don’t know what to think. It could all be a coincidence, but it could also not be. 

You inhale a sharp breath as something grips at you. Curiosity. Fascination. Desperation even, because the thought that there might be someone around who has something deeply in common with you fills you with a strong feeling of longing that you can’t quite explain. Up until now, the only one who was connected to your past, your secrets, your family, and the stories told in this home, was Luna. 

But what if she isn’t the only one?

Hopeless for more information, you further skim through the pages. When you find another diary entry about the Ackermans, you halt and hungrily absorb the whole passage. With every scribbled word you take in, old memories resurface; ones you thought you had long forgotten. 

You can see your mother again, tucking you and Luna to sleep as she sits on the side of the bed you two shared, answering all your curious questions about the Ackermans. While gently stroking your hair and caressing Luna’s wrist, she told you about the several missions your family had performed with the Ackermans, back when both families still worked for the Royal Government. Both clans tended to work separately, so it wasn’t a common occurrence, but whenever both skill sets were required, both families were teamed up. You can’t remember the details of the stories she told you, only that the two families sometimes had to hunt down secret groups who plotted against the King. 

She explained that while both clans technically had great potential to work together as a wonderful team, things were not as pleasant beneath the surface. In reality, the two clans were rivals. They both worked for the Monarchy, competing for missions and high status. Although the Ackermans were mainly focused on directly protecting the King while your family stuck to spying, both clans still regularly had to serve similar functions. As a consequence, constant rivaling tensions were boiling between the two. This frustration was particularly intense because your family didn’t like that they were viewed as the ‘inferior’ or ‘weaker’ predecessor of the Ackermans. There was after all no doubt that the Ackermans were physically far stronger, and that as a consequence, the Royal family favored them. No one likes getting swept under the rug, and the fact the Ackermans were often allowed to lead the missions whenever both clans had to work together made it much worse. Your family had to work hard to prove their worth, and some of them fuelled their motivation with anger towards the rivaling clan.

“So they hated each other?” you had asked, completely enthralled by your mother’s words.

She pondered over this, chuckling a little. “Yes, sort of, but not always. Our family despised the Ackermans a bit, but they also admired and feared them, although I’m sure they never admitted that to anyone out loud. The Ackermans are an impressive bunch, it’s hard not to respect them, even when there’s a lot of frustration mixed in there.”

Luna propped herself on her elbow beside you. “Did they ever become friends?”

“No.” Your mother chuckled. “Since they were rivals, they never intermingled on a personal level. I mean, the idea to mix the two family lines had been proposed, but it was immediately shut down. Neither the Ackermans, nor our family wanted anything to do with each other outside of the missions that needed to be done. Not even in the slightest. Both clans stayed away from each other as much as they could.” She stared at Luna’s little arm as she stroked it, smiling absently. ”It’s a pity. I’m sure we’d be a power team if we had opened ourselves up to each other, instead of sticking to anger.”

You stare at the scribbled words in your diary, biting your lip hard. There’s just… something about all of this that reminds you so much of him.

You close your journal and shut your eyes as you try to process all the questions racing through you all at once. In a hopeless quest to fit the puzzle pieces together, you start to rake through the memories you have of Levi. From the moment you saw him flying with ODM gear the first time, to the moment he caught you and threw you in an abandoned ruin. You try to recall how well he flew, how quick his reflexes were when you hurled your circular blade at him. You try to recall every interaction, hoping your memories will provide you with some clues.

Now that you think about it, the level of fear you felt when you saw Levi for the first time is rather strange. You don’t think you’ve ever been as afraid of someone before. It was almost like a gripping instinct. Of course, maybe you were so terrified because Gary had warned you about Levi. Or maybe it was because you remembered him in a flash, from a time he was furiously beating up a man while only being a child himself. But what if there’s more to it? What if somewhere, you subconsciously recognized what he was, somehow? Could that be a thing, or is this too far-fetched? 

Your mother did always talk about your family’s genetic heritage as a mysterious thing that isn’t well understood. Certain skills get passed down in your family, but subconscious behaviors and pulls, such as becoming attentive and sharp in dangerous situations, are passed down too. Could those subconscious elements go further than that, though? Are deeply rooted connections passed down generations too? Your family was highly familiar with the Ackermans for a long time, so maybe there was a spark of subconscious recognition when you and Levi met? What if you were so afraid of him because deep down you knew how dangerous of a person he was?

It sounds insane, but it’s not entirely impossible.

It certainly would explain a few things. Back in the tunnels yesterday, you worked oddly well together, in a way you never have with anyone else before. The question is: did you two balance each other out so well because you both simply knew what you were doing? Or is there another layer to it, and this well-coordinated teamwork is somehow ingrained in your behaviors due to your families’ histories?

Admittedly, it all sounds ridiculous. It’s insanity. On the other hand, though, there are more than a few events that could potentially confirm your theory. 

When Levi interrogated you for the first time, something strange had happened too. He had pushed you to your knees and had managed to break you, but that was followed by a strange moment of tenderness, during which he caressed your cheek. It’s like there was a brief unexplainable pull between you. You remember it vividly now. It was so… strange. You didn’t think much of it then, but what if it was some sort of faint flicker of recognition? 

Your head is spinning. A thousand questions spill out of your mind at once. Was your fear of Levi fuelled by something subconscious? And what about the hatred? Could that have been stronger because your families used to hate each other? And the admiration you’ve secretly been feeling for him from the start: your mother did say your family admired theirs, so maybe—

You let out an exasperated groan. Your head is imploding. How are you supposed to know what stems from you, and what stems from the blood running inside your veins? That is, of course, assuming there’s even a difference to begin with. Maybe the only difference between the two is thinking there is one at all. 

It doesn’t need to be this complicated, though. Maybe he isn’t an Ackerman at all, and you’re just getting way ahead of yourself. Or maybe he is an Ackerman, but the emotions you felt around him when you met — like fear and hate — have nothing to do with genetics.

The longer you think about it, the more you feel like believing that Levi descends from the Ackermans is just as ridiculous as not considering the possibility at all. The odds may be small, but they aren’t zero, and it would be slightly foolish to think so.  

If you were intrigued by Levi before, the feeling has now expanded by a factor of, let’s say, a million. The loneliness from earlier is now entirely replaced by uncontrollable curiosity. Also, confusion and excitement.

A million questions are racing through your mind. Who is he? Where does he come from? Is he an Ackerman, and if so, does he know? Would he even care? 

Should you care?

Technically speaking, discovering that your suspicions are true wouldn’t change a thing. It wouldn’t change your life, and chances are that it wouldn’t even change your relationship with Levi. He’d still be Levi, and you’d still be you. The families you stem from and the reasons behind your skills don’t change any of that. As long as no one knows your own secret, none of it truly matters. Not in the grand scheme of things, at least. Your backgrounds might explain a few things and it might help you understand Levi better, but that’s where it ends. Besides, Levi strikes you as someone who cares a lot more about the present than about old stories from the past. Chances are that even if your hunch about him is right, and even if you tell him who you are, he won’t treat you any differently.

Yet, for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to feel indifferent about it all. You do care, and probably more than you should. Maybe that is because there’s a chance you’d feel less alone if it turns out there’s someone out there who has something deeply in common with you. Perhaps this is the loneliness talking, but you crave some sort of kinship with someone. It would give you a semblance of connection to your past and to your parents. You miss them, and you feel so alone, and knowing there might be something in your life that connects you to your mother’s old stories fills you with a deep sense of longing. You crave those nights in bed when your mother told you about the Ackermans, and because of that, you crave to find out whether your suspicions about Levi are true.

According to what Paul told you previously, nobody knows much about him. This mysterious fact had already immediately drawn you in, but you are now more intrigued than ever. With your suspicions about Levi’s background raised, you almost feel hopeless to know more about him. 

Are you being delusional for thinking this could somehow help you fill the hollow loneliness inside your chest, because it would indirectly connect you to your loved ones from the past? Maybe. Probably. But hey, who cares. Just because you’re acting on desperation and futile emotions doesn’t mean that your incentive to get closer to Levi isn’t valid.

Now remains the question: how do you go about this? You can’t ask him anything upfront, of course. Not only is Levi apparently a very private person, but your own secret still needs to remain safe. You can’t ever tell him who you are. What you can do, on the other hand, is observe him better whenever you’re around him. You can keep an eye out and see if there are things that could confirm your suspicions about his background. Maybe you can even ask Furlan and the others a few questions about him. Some of them must know something about his past, right?

It wouldn’t hurt anybody to ask around a little. You’re just… curious.

You stare at your closet. Maybe you should just put your clothes on and go to the hideout already. You don’t feel like waiting a day anymore. Not now that you’re this intrigued about Levi, and that you’ve been hit with the realization that you actually really miss the gang’s company.

A few moments of hesitation pass, but you eventually decide that fuck it. 

Throwing your clothes on and grabbing your coat, you head to the hideout.

...................

Okay so maybe you should’ve mentally prepared for this.

Oh God.

You’re staring at the hideout from a safe distance, eyeing the front door with disdain. 

You were so preoccupied with your suspicions about Levi’s background that you completely forgot about the current boner-against-your-ass crisis. Unfortunately, arriving at the hideout has refreshed that dusty memory of yours quite well.

Lord have mercy. This is going to be so awkward. The only way you can possibly survive this is if you both manage to expertly pretend that nothing happened. You sure as hell will try, and since the whole event was approximately three hundred times more embarrassing for Levi than for you, you’re certain he will try his best too.

Still, that door is not looking appealing today. How are you even going to greet him? How are you supposed to look him in the eyes, knowing you told him you felt his boner pressed against your ass (only one day ago, for fuck’s sake), and pretend you’re only thinking about the heist? This is bad. The cringe is skin deep. Maybe you should just leave, permanently change your name and identity, and move to the other side of the city forever.

… Except that you did put a lot of effort into the big mission ahead, and throwing all of that away because you’re a chickenshit would be rather unfortunate.

After some intense internal debates, you conclude that bravery is going to have to win today. All you can do is remain strong and get this over with as soon as possible.

As you march up the steps to the door, you beg the universe that Furlan will be there to dampen the tension. If it turns out to be just you and Levi, you might actually lose consciousness on the spot.

While knocking on the front door, you hold your breath and try your best to ignore the way your muscles are stiff with tension.

The door swings open. 

You blink at the stranger standing in front of you. A young girl with red hair styled in two short pigtails is staring at you, her big green eyes slightly widened in surprise. A broom is clasped in her free hand, and she’s wearing a loose orange shirt, brown pants, and a pair of worn brown boots.

“Big bro?” she hesitantly calls out without breaking eye contact with you, “There’s someone at the d-“

“Did I give you permission to open the damn door?” you hear Levi snap behind her. 

Loud creaking steps approach, followed by a swing of the door. Levi halts his movements the moment his eyes meet yours. A white rag is wrapped over his hair, and another one is loosely hanging around his neck. 

“Oh.” He pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “Come in.” 

You don’t miss the reluctancy in his voice, but you’re too confused to care.

Your gaze jumps from him to the girl. “Hold on, are you Levi’s sister?” you ask, completely aghast.

“Yes—”

“—No.” Levi interrupts at the same time.

You lift a questioning brow at both of them.

“She’s not—“ Levi lets out a tired groan as he holds the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Utterly confused, you follow them inside. “I don’t get it. Is that a yes or a no?”

“Both, apparently,” he grumbles as he closes the door behind you. “I only met her an hour ago, and we’re not blood-related, so take that as you will.”

Before you even have the chance to ask more questions about this strange matter, the girl approaches you with excitement, a big smile plastered on her face. “I’m Isabel! Who are you?”

You return a smile — though it’s a slightly confused one — and give her your name. The moment you mention you recently joined the gang, her eyes light up with wonder. “Wait, does that mean you can fly too? With that gear?” She looks at you like you just told her about the five most shocking miracles of life.

“No, I don’t actually, I—“ You halt when you notice dark red stains coating the wooden floorboard in the corner of your eyes. You inhale a quiet gasp. “Hold on, is that… blood?”

“Yes,” Levi confirms as he leans back against the door, eyes observing the stains with an expression of disgust.

You gape at Isabel, hoping she’ll give you more explanation than that.

She nods. “He saved me.”

“Who?” you ask.“Levi?”

She bites her lip and nods. “Beat the piss-heads who wanted to take me.” Her gaze falls to the floor as she starts to fiddle with a few loose threads of her shirt. “So he’s like a big brother to me now.”

Your brows knit together in worry. Who did Levi save her from? What the hell happened here?

Before you can voice the questions, the girl looks back at you, her voice descending to something more somber. “Not many people do that, y’know? Standing up for others.” She hesitates, then adds, “Standing up for me.”

There’s a moment of quietness, during which your heart slowly sinks. You glance at Levi. He’s staring at her too, a slight frown on his features, but all harshness has faded from his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” you carefully tell Isabel. “Who wanted to take you?” 

“She tried to plow through the stairway without paying the fee,” Levi explains before she has the chance to.

“She— what?” 

Your eyes snap to Isabel, who shrugs sheepishly under your gaze.

You blink in disbelief. She tried to go outside without paying? Without acquiring the necessary documents? There are many things one can get away with in the Underground, but trying to get through the stairway without paying the near-unpayable fee is not one of them.

“Holy shit, that’s…. damn.” You eye Isabel with worried disbelief. “I know they don’t take that lightly. It’s a huge crime and the guards tend to handle that… personally. You okay?”

She nods, and when her eyes meet yours again, you notice something warm has slipped into her features. “Yeah! Thanks to big brother.”

Levi scoffs. “Went up there because she wanted to save a bird. Can you fucking believe it?” Despite his accusatory words, his voice carries a certain gentleness. 

“Hold on. A bird?”

“Yes, look!” Isabel beams. She grabs you by the sleeve of your shirt and guides you to the table at the back of the room. On it rests a little basket, and it takes you a few seconds to process there’s an actual bird laying inside it. It’s cushioned on soft-looking pieces of fabric, but its wings are partly wrapped in bandage tape. “Its wings are broken,” she explains, “so Furlan took care of it. I think it got in the Underground through one of the cracks and got lost here. It made me sad, so I wanted to bring it back to the surface.”

She looks at the bird with a soft smile and slowly gives it a gentle caress on the head. You stare in disbelief as the little bird closes its eyes and leans into Isabel’s touch, completely unafraid of her.

“Hold on. Wait. Lemme get this straight,” you begin, looking from Isabel, to Levi, to Isabel again. “So because you wanted this bird to fly free, you tried to get through the stairway? Then the guards caught you and followed you all the way up here, and Levi beat their asses and got rid of them? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yep!” she quips without missing a beat.

You open your mouth, then close it again. You’re utterly speechless. You give Levi a look that you hope conveys your confusion and disbelief, but he merely returns your incredulous stare with a lazy shrug.

Isabel doesn’t even seem to notice your surprise. She’s too enthralled by her little friend. The sight is so endearing that you don’t know what to say. The fact she risked her life for a little bird fills you with emotions you can’t even begin to explain. You’ve never met anyone this selfless before, and knowing warm souls like hers exist in this city shifts something inside of you. It melts your heart, elevates your hope in humanity, and makes you want to protect the girl at all costs.

You glance at Levi, who is still leaning back against the door and observing Isabel as she gently caresses her little bird. Something about the way he looks at her makes you suspect you’re not the only one feeling those emotions. 

As if noticing your stare, his eyes travel to you. The moment your gazes meet, however, he looks away again.

You clear your throat, searching for something to say to stop the building tension. “So… Isabel, does that mean you’re joining our group?”

She tears her attention away from the basket and looks at Levi before meeting your gaze, a big smile spreading across her face. “Yep!”

“Wait, really?!”  

Your mouth parts in disbelief. You didn’t think she would actually be joining the gang, you just blurted out the first question that came to mind. As you look into her radiating green eyes, it’s clear she isn’t joking. She really is officially joining, and it looks like she’s just as excited about it as you are. 

“Levi said I can join and I can learn how to fly!” She’s beaming so hard that you can’t help but laugh. 

“You’ll be like the little bird,” you tell her with a big grin. "Once it's healed, at least."

She giggles. “Exactly what I was thinking!”

You have to fight the urge to embrace her in a hug because holy hell you like her a lot already. The fact there’s finally another girl in the group makes you all giddy inside.

“Do you live close by?” you ask. “Or are you staying here? Or….”

Isabel’s smile falters a little, and her gaze travels to Levi. There’s an unmistakable question in her eyes, and you don’t miss the clear spark of hope dancing inside them either. 

Oh. You asked the big question before she could. 

The answer she hopes to get couldn’t be more obvious.

You glance at Levi, feeling slightly nervous by his silence. His gaze is unreadable. He just looks at her in quietness.

After a few moments, he finally speaks up. “Yes, she’s staying here. For now.”

A small squeak of excitement escapes Isabel’s lips, making you break into a big smile. You don’t know this girl at all, yet your heart flutters in excitement. Her happiness is intoxicating.

“Guess you got two rookies now,” you tell Levi with a wide grin. “This will be fun.”

He huffs. “Don’t make me regret my decisions already.”

“Does Furlan know?”

“That she’s joining our group? Yes. That he’s going to have to live with a reckless little rascal from now on? No.”

You snort. “He’ll be happy, I’m sure of it.” You look around the room. “Where is he, by the way?” 

“Getting some extra cleaning supplies. He’ll be back in a minute.” Levi gets off the door and approaches you and Isabel. “About that: time to get back to work.”

Isabel silently groans under her breath.

You frown. “Back to work?”

“Isabel, you’re going to clean your new room. Go through that door—” Levi points at a closed door at the other side of the room, ”—first room on your right. Remember what I said earlier: I don’t want to see a single speck of dust left behind once you’re finished.”

The moment he mentions Isabel’s new room, her face lights up and all traces of reluctance disappear.

“Will do!” she beams. 

Giving you one last giddy smile, she turns on her heels and walks off.

“And you,” Levi continues, cold gaze meeting yours. “Take that broom and rag behind you and start cleaning this shithole of a place with us until it’s sparkling clean.”

“…What?”

“You heard what I said.”

You look around the room. Honestly, everything looks perfectly clean. Sure, maybe a few grains of dust could’ve settled here and there, but this place is far from being dirty. Except for that bloodstain, you’re not sure if there’s anything to clean.

Levi clicks his tongue. “Did I stutter? It wasn’t a request. Stop gaping like an idiot and get to work.” 

When you do exactly that — gaping at him — he gives you a look that surpasses irritation. “If you want to be part of the group, you have to learn how to clean first. If you don’t prioritize hygiene, you’re out.” 

You can’t help but snort. “You’d kick me out? You’d choose tidiness over my weapons?”

“Absolutely. Want to test it out, you arrogant little shit?”

“Hm. Debating,” you admit, which earns you an alarmingly dangerous glare.

“… on how I can clean this place as thoroughly as possible,” you quickly add, suddenly preferring safety over sass.

“You better.” He grabs the rag around his neck and ties it over his face as he watches you. With only his eyes visible now, he looks even more threatening than before.

Also, you have an inkling feeling he means business.

Without another word, he grabs a bucket and a mop and disappears into the adjacent room. After a few seconds, the rough sound of ferocious scrubbing graces your ears.

Welp. You suppose you have no choice but to get to work too. With a sigh, you grab a rag and start scrubbing the bloodstains on the floor, slightly unnerved by the sight. Once that is clean, you continue with the kitchenette.

All in all, the cleaning session is quite enjoyable. It’s both relaxing and satisfying to mindlessly wipe the kitchen counter and dust the bookshelves. Suddenly remembering your recent epiphany about Levi, you decide to take a good look at the books filling the shelf. Can’t forget about your new personal goal to subtly stalk him, after all.

As expected, you find nothing out of the ordinary. The books are old worn things that were likely found at a second-hand bookshop. There are several fictional books about crime and mystery, a few cookbooks and self-help books, and one book about ODM gear. You almost giggle out loud when you find a few romance books. You can’t possibly imagine Levi reading those. They must be Furlan’s. In fact, every single book here must be Furlan’s. Levi even told you so a few days back. A pity.

But hey, good to know there’s at least someone in this house who isn’t afraid to be in tune with their emotions.

After your little investigation, you take a broom and continue the cleaning session. 

It’s all peaceful and well until Levi finishes with the other room and joins you.  

Quickly, it becomes a nightmare.

You like tidiness, you really do, but this man is pushing it. Ordering you left and right, inspecting your work every two seconds, and nagging you about one fucking microparticle you accidentally left behind on the bookshelf. 

“I said, don’t leave a single speck of dust behind,” the gremlin grumbles while pointing at a perfectly clean book. “What about that wasn’t clear?” 

“That’s barely even a speck,” you argue irritably as you squint to detect the infinitely small dust particle you might’ve left behind. “It’s all clean. I went over that shelf three times!”

“Three times and still filthy. That’s fucking embarrassing.”

You’re just about to smash your broom on his impudent face when Furlan storms in to save the day.

“Hey, I’m back!” he calls out breathlessly as he closes the door behind him. “I’ve got an extra broom and a bucket. How are you guys doing?”

Levi clicks his tongue in irritation as he turns to his friend. “You should see how this imp ‘cleans’. Pathetic. Maybe we should kick her out after all.”

You roll your eyes and open your mouth to snap back, but you’re quickly interrupted by the sharpness of Levi's warning glare. The way he dangerously lifts one brow tells you you’d better not challenge him if you value your life. 

You hesitate, but decide to keep your mouth shut.

For now. 

For Furlan and Isabel, because you want to spare them from the apocalypse that would erupt as a consequence.

And also maybe a little bit for yourself. 

Furlan looks back and forth between you and Levi and chuckles, before joining the cleaning operation. At least the tyrant has two victims to torment now.

Or so you thought, because Levi nags you significantly more than Furlan. It’s horrible. You never thought a cleaning session could possibly match the horrors of a torture session, but Levi is proving to be an innovative mind. He gives you cold orders, offends you, and makes you scrub the floors until your hands turn raw.

You have an inkling feeling he’s lashing out at you because of what happened in the tunnels. Is this his way of extinguishing any remaining embers of sexual tension? Because if so, the fucker is highly succeeding. All secret desires are gone and eradicated. Vanished. Terminated for eternity.

You can’t believe it. It was his fault for getting a hard-on, and now you have to pay the consequences.

Well… sort of his fault.

Having really had enough of his bullshit, you carefully start irritating him back, though not enough to get murdered. He did say he’d end your life in the tunnels, and dying during this horrid cleaning session would be quite embarrassing, to say the least.

So you decide to become slightly annoying, but in a well-calculated manner, if you do say so yourself. Scrubbing a little too loudly or a little too slowly, brooming the same small spot fifty times while he watches, explaining you ‘just need the place to be clean’ whenever he scowls at you. 

Needless to say, he’s irritated. And so are you.

You’re in the midst of taking a well-deserved break while Levi thoroughly cleans his and Furlan’s knives under the sink, when he peeks over his shoulder to investigate why you’ve stopped scrubbing the floor. He stops in the midst of his tracks as he takes in the horrendous crime you’re committing: rest.

“Tired already huh?” He looks at your pathetic figure resting on the ground, giving you a judgy once over. “Not surprised, considering how filthy your own place is.”

“First of all, fuck off—“

“Watch your fucking mouth.”

“—Second of all, my place isn’t filthy at all, and you know it. You’re just exaggerating on purpose.”

“This has nothing to do with exaggeration. Dirt spreads disease. Now get back to work.”

“The only disease I see myself getting is an aneurysm from your nonsense,” you grumble. Nonetheless, you take the sponge floating in the bucket next to you and start scrubbing the floor again. 

Creaking footsteps approach, but you ignore them. 

The footsteps stop right in front of you, making you mildly nervous inside, but you’d rather die than show it. Levi’s shoes are in your field of vision, but if he doesn’t grant you some patience and respect, you won’t grant him a look either. You’re too busy scrubbing a perfectly clean floor, after all.

“If you’re here to impart any of your lessons on how to become a raging asshole or a cleaning machine like you, I’m not interested,” you tell him dryly without sparing him a single glance.

“That so?” he says quietly. There’s a threatening edge to his voice. Something that sounds a lot like dangerous impatience.

“Yes. Now leave me be before my hand accidentally slips and pushes this bucket of filthy water all over your shoes.”

There’s a pause.

You keep scrubbing, praying for your life that you haven’t made a fatal mistake, because dying at the feet of your arch-nemesis while scrubbing the floor is embarrassingly tragic.

You gasp as something cold and wet catches your chin, gently tilting your head up. Levi is kneeling down to your height, and it takes you a second to realize the flat part of his freshly washed knife is kissing your skin. When your eyes meet his, your mouth runs a little dry. Dark strands of hair hang over his face as he looks down at you. His handkerchief is hanging around his neck again, revealing the entirety of his menacingly calm expression.

“Don’t make me lose my patience,” he murmurs quietly.

You want to say something, but you're suffering from disrupted brain-function, not having expected him to do something so gently terrifying.

He cocks his head to the side. “Will you stop being a rebellious girl or do I have to kick you out?”

“I think I can give it a try.” Your voice comes out fainter than you would’ve liked, making you curse your vocal cords for betraying you.

“Good,” he whispers as he studies your features. 

You swallow thickly, after which he slowly draws his knife back. His eyes flutter down to your chin. He reaches it with his index finger, and gently wipes off the remaining water and soap his knife left on your skin. He freezes — for a moment so brief you almost miss it — before quickly dropping his hand as if he never touched you to begin with.

Grey eyes travel up to yours again, their shade matching the sharp color of his cold blade. “Now get back to work, and I swear to god if you decide to be difficult again, you’ll wish you never left home in the first place.”

He gets up and walks back, leaving you with a slightly faster heartbeat and a mildly dizzy brain.

Magically, all your desires to piss him off have vanished. Will wonders ever cease.

The rest of the cleaning session is much more bearable. You’re not inclined to piss Levi off anymore, and he lets you scrub in peace. You can almost say it’s somewhat enjoyable. Almost.

Once the three of you are finished, you tuck the brooms and the rags away while Levi prepares some tea. A satisfied sigh escapes your lips as you finally sink into your chair. You can’t be more relieved that the physical strain is over. Also, you have to admit that sitting in a perfectly clean and tidied space with hot porcelain warming your fingers is soothing as hell.

“So… the mission,” you begin. 

Furlan is about to reply when his eyes dart to the door behind you.

“I’m done!” you hear Isabel quip. “What’re you guys doing?” 

Levi gives her an unimpressed look. “If your room is not perfectly clean, you’re also cleaning the pantry.”

“It’s clean! I promise!”

He gets off his chair and scoffs. “We’ll see about that.”

He follows her to her new room, and it takes approximately five seconds for him to speak up again.

“There’s plenty of dust beneath the shelf. You’re not done.”

Isabel groans and mutters something, which immediately sends Furlan into a silent chuckle. You have a hard time holding back a laugh as well. 

Levi comes back after a few moments, closing the door behind him and joining you two again.

“A little harsh on her, don’t you think?” you tell him light-heartedly. 

“Not really. She needs to know we prioritize hygiene. Also, I need her to be busy for a little while. I don’t want her to hear this conversation. She’s in the pantry now, it's at the far back so she won’t hear a thing.”

“She can’t know about the heist?”

He shakes his head. “No. There’s no way for me to know yet if I can trust her to keep a secret. Also, I have a feeling she’d get all curious and ask to participate, and I’m not letting a rash little brat like her join a dangerous mission. She’ll help with safer robberies, and only after I’ve checked what she’s capable of.”

You can’t help but smile. He’s trying to protect Isabel, and frankly, it’s quite endearing. You still can’t believe he hasn’t only accepted her into the gang, but he has also decided to provide her with a place to sleep. And not just a place; he’s letting her live with him and Furlan, despite knowing nothing about her. He doesn’t know her skills and her assets yet, nor does he know how it’ll be to live with her, yet he puts her well-being over all those unknown factors. She’s a complete stranger, but she also clearly has a heart of gold, and that seems to be enough for him. The thought melts your heart, and it makes you want to find out what kind of gentleness he’s hiding behind that harsh exterior of his.

You glance back at the door Isabel appeared through, smiling. “Good thing you guys have a spare room for her.”

“It’s Kai’s old room. He lived here for a little while,” Furlan explains. “He needed a place to crash, but he moved again a few months ago. He lives with Paul now.”

You fight back a mocking smile. “Let me guess, he couldn’t handle Levi’s tyrannic behavior?”

This earns you an irritated tongue click from the man in question.

Furlan snorts. “Who knows? Could’ve been his second motive.” He eyes Levi’s scowl with amusement. Then he pauses, his smile faltering a little before continuing. “But Kai’s main reason was that Paul lives really close to his sick mother. Her health got really bad at one point, so he didn’t want to be far away. She’s doing better now, luckily, but she still needs to be taken care of, so he’ll stay at Paul’s for the time being. Besides, those two are a good team.”

“Oh.” You swallow, remembering Kai’s worried expression when Levi told everyone that medicinal supplies have gotten really expensive. “That must be really hard on him. It’s a relief she’s doing a bit better now, at least.”

“And if we want it to stay that way, we better start planning now,” Levi interjects.

Furlan nods. “Fine by me. First of all, did you guys find anything useful in the tunnels? How was it down there?”

You glance at Levi, both your eyes flicking up to each other at the same time. He immediately looks away.

He knows you were fantasizing about him. You know he was fantasizing about you. Fuck, this is awkward.

Furlan looks from Levi to you, to Levi again. His brows are slightly furrowed, and there’s a hint of confusion in his eyes. Or maybe it’s rising suspicion. Shit.

You clear your throat, trying your best to ignore the way your entire body is heating up. “It went well. Didn’t Levi tell you what we found out?”

“He’s barely been home.”

Oh. 

“Well, we came across two of Rocco’s men, and we managed to eavesdrop a little,” you explain. Reaching for your bag, you rumble through it until you find your little note. You slide it over to Furlan. “This is what I wrote down after the mission. It’s not much, but I guess anything can be useful.”

Furlan reads the note, on which you’ve written only four things: Rocco’s men will mostly be the ones guarding around, they don’t have many guns, the total number of guards is still unknown, and there will be no guards around the south because the tunnels are collapsed in that area.

Furlan hums pensively, stroking his jaw. “There are two entrances at the south, right? Are both of them collapsed?”

“I only checked one of them with Levi. The tunnels in that area are definitely a mess, and the entrance we checked together was blocked. Turns out that a broken building fell on it. That’s how that area got to collapse.” You tear your attention away from Furlan and force yourself to look Levi in the eyes as you address him. “You finished the map, right? Is the second entrance blocked too?”

“Looked like it at first,” Levi replies, voice so impassive that it feels like you’re simply imagining the tension between you two, “but it’s actually possible to squeeze through. It’s definitely not for the claustrophobic, but it’s possible to access the tunnels through there.”

“You think they know?” Furlan asks. “That the entrance isn’t really blocked?”

Levi hesitates. “Not sure. Didn’t sound like it when we were eavesdropping. Not that it matters, because they mentioned they’d do one big swoop of the area before the trade. If they have anything for brains, they’ll double-check if the passage is truly blocked or not.”

You nod. “That’s true. Though, even if they find out, I don’t think there will be many guards there. They know it’s not a path anyone takes to get to the tunnels, so I don’t think they’ll waste much of their man-force to guard down there. I bet they’ll keep it to a minimum.”

“Good… good….” Furlan drawls. He gets off his chair, walks to a cabinet, and takes out a sheet of paper. As he returns, you notice he’s holding the map you and Levi drew. 

“Which entrance is the one we could slip through?” he asks as he puts the map on the table for everyone to see.

Levi points at one of the entrances at the south. Furlan nods, humming.

You point at a familiar spot on the map. “Levi and I think the trade will be there. We’re not sure, though. It’s just a theory.”

Furlan stares at the map for a moment. “Alright. I think we should enter through that semi-collapsed entrance at the south, assuming there won’t be many guards there. Some of us should keep watch outside while others go in. We sneak to the trade, and once everything is done, we get back through that same exit.”

“We should probably have someone keep watch at every entrance,” you suggest. “If something unexpected happens somewhere, we’ll know at least. I was also thinking that we could keep all exits free of guards. If, for some reason, the group inside needs to get out through another exit, it would go much more smoothly if all exits are already unguarded.”

“Hmm…” Furlan stares at the map, brows furrowed in contemplation. “Maybe, but it could also be risky.” 

“What do you mean?”

“At least if the guards are there, nothing will look off from the outside. You never know — maybe there will be people keeping an eye on things from a distance, so it might be better to make it look like the trade is going smoothly. From my experience, it’s better not to hijack big trades too much from the outside, especially if the trade takes a long time. We’ll be sneaking down those tunnels for a little while, so we have to be as discrete as possible. As long as things look okay, we’re sure no one will interfere.”

“Furlan’s right,” Levi agrees. “Also, if the guards are still there, no randoms or unexpected visitors can get in and mess everything up, so it’s extra protection.”

You hum as you contemplate their words. “I see. Good point. Keep things intact on the outside, and secretly sabotage everything on the inside. Got it.”

Furlan nods. “Yeah, but I definitely like the idea of having every exit watched by our group. We need to keep our eyes everywhere.”

Levi taps on the exits drawn on the map. “There are five exits if we don’t count the collapsed one. We’re nine in total. That could work. The group going inside the tunnels has to be small anyway, at least if we want to be discrete.”

“Alright. That’s settled then,” you conclude. “Now the real question: how do we get through the guards?”

Furlan lets out a deep sigh, his brows knitting together in worry. “It’s going to be dangerous as hell down there. Honestly, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

Levi side-eyes Furlan, his fingers delicately wrapped over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip of tea. “If it helps, I can remind you of how little meds we have left, how pathetic our food provisions are at the moment, and how much Jan needs sunlight.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Levi,” Furlan grumbles in irritation. “I know we have to do this, but it’s just… not gonna be easy. The only good thing is that the guards will definitely stick to set positions. The tunnels are so complicated and confusing that I highly doubt they’ll be ordered to move around when guarding. If what you said is true, and Rocco really does like control, then the last thing he’d want is for his men to fuck things up by getting lost. I bet they’ll have to stay in place.”

You smile a little. “You’re good at this.”

Furlan laughs. “At what?”

“Planning. Thinking things through.” 

He chuckles. “You’re not so bad yourself. And thank god, because we definitely need an extra brain for this heist.”

“We also need more information,” you groan. “If we’re lucky, we’ll know the positions of the guards, but that’s only if we’re lucky. And even then: how exactly do we get rid of the guards?”

Grey eyes — that have until now been rather avoidant — meet yours. “Speaks for itself, no?”

“Nope.”

He scoffs. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?

“No, because I have a better plan than murdering everyone in those tunnels. We could sedate them. Poison them.”

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Sedate them?” Furlan repeats.

Levi frowns. “And why would we do that? It’s not cheap, certainly not easy to find, and it’s not even always reliable. Depending on what you use, it can take long minutes for someone to actually lose consciousness. Sounds like an unnecessary risk.”

“It’s not unnecessary,” you argue.

He tilts his head. “And why’s that?”

“First of all, killing everyone down there is fucked up.”

He huffs. “Maybe, but so are they, so it doesn’t matter.”

You narrow your eyes. “What is it? You used to be a hitman or something?”

He pauses, looking slightly caught off guard. “…I was, actually. Back in the day. When I really needed the money.”

You swallow. Isn’t that just lovely. The rumors really are true. Your new boss used to murder people for a living. Maybe stalking him isn’t such a good idea after all. You still need to fall asleep at night.

“Either way,” he continues before you have a chance to further reflect on how menacing of a person Levi is. “We wouldn’t be killing everyone down there, just the few we can’t get past. Next argument.”

“That’s nonsense and you know it,” you retort with narrowed eyes. “There’s no way we can hijack that trade in silence. We’ll probably have to get some guns and force those men to give the money. What if one of them yells out for help? We only have leverage if every guard in the vicinity is gone and they have no one at their rescue. So conclusion: yes, we’d have to kill almost everyone down there.”

Levi rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. It’ll be a fucking slaughter-fest. I still don’t see why I should give a shit. Do I need to remind you what every one of those scum have done? Cause I can freshen up your memory and give you an exhaustive list if you want. They’re fucking disgusting, we’d do the world a favor.”

“Nope. Don’t need your list,” you reply. Then you hesitate. “Or actually… maybe yes. Not a bad idea. Could be helpful. But that’s not the damn point — I’m not done with my arguments.”

He leans back in his chair, eyeing you with something that looks suspiciously close to amusement. “Oh yeah? What more you got?”

“My second argument is: killing everyone down there is much more dangerous because it will make the rest of Rocco’s men starved for blood. And that’s a big understatement. I mean, sure, they’ll get angry as hell if they get robbed, because it’s humiliating and they lose their precious contacts. But they get to keep the drugs at least, and none of them will be hurt too bad. I’m sure it won’t be worth dedicating their entire lives to take vengeance, no?”

He scoffs. “You’d be surprised.”

“Alright, so maybe they’ll be vengeful, but still. It’ll be twice as bad if we slaughter all their friends. Also, considering we’re talking about a deal that involves people from above, I bet the MPs would be sent down to investigate. Do you really want MPs up your ass?”

Levi huffs. “As if those incapable pigs could ever trace us back.”

“You’d be surprised,” you mirror darkly.

Levi pauses. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. It’s only when you realize that his expression is one of understanding, that you remember you’ve told him about your parents. He knows they were killed by MP’s. Shit. Something about his expression makes you suspect he’s making that connection right now. 

You feel a little exposed, suddenly. You didn’t mean for this to become personal.

“Alright,” he drawls slowly after a moment of silence. “What else?”

He’s not addressing it. Thank god.

“Third argument,” you continue, clearing your throat and trying to forget your small emotional slip-up. “I’m sure not everyone has insane shooting aim like you, Levi. The ones of our group keeping an eye on the exits will need far-range weapons for sure. Even the ones going inside should have those to be safe. But the problem with regular knives or crossbows is that bad aim is fatal. A shot in the leg instead of the heart, and there’s a real chance of losing the fight. But if we use a paralyzing poison that has a really quick effect on the other hand…”

“Oh,” Furlan breathes as he realizes what you mean. “Oh.”

“You’re insane,” Levi mutters, but his tone is not one of dismissal. It almost sounds like one of approval, or admiration even, though you're not sure.

“But I’m not wrong,” you tell him, “You said sedatives can take a while to kick in, and that’s true, especially if it’s shot in the muscle. But If I shoot you with a paralyzing toxin that quickly weakens and paralyzes your leg, makes you drowsy, and maybe eventually turns you unconscious after minutes, that’s still more powerful than a regular shot. It’s a lot more forgiving for the ones of our group who can’t easily make a fatal shot. At least, the enemy won’t make it far.”

“That’s… a really good point,” Furlan admits.

Levi watches you in silence. You’re not sure what he’s thinking, and you’re just about to start feeling nervous under his gaze when he speaks up. “Something tells me you got even more annoying arguments. Spill them out.”

Your lips quirk into a victorious smile. “Fourth argument: we have a chance to give these guys a taste of their own medicine. Literally. Don’t tell me the idea doesn’t secretly appeal to you.”

“Maybe.” He pauses. “And get that smug fucking look off your face.”

You fight back a laugh. “Lastly, maybe you can’t relate, but neither Furlan nor I will get a good night’s rest after having committed mass slaughter.”

“And why the hell should I care about your good night’s rest?”

Both you and Furlan are glaring at Levi now.

Levi rolls his eyes so far back his skull his retinas must be begging for release. “Oh my god, fine. We’ll do it.” 

A diabolical grin reaches your lips.

Furlan snorts and gives you a gentle pat on the back. “Well done.”

Levi lets out a deep sigh and glares at you. “You done with your gigantic speech now?”

“Yep!” you quip, wearing a smile you’re sure conveys how very pleased you are with yourself. 

This earns you an irritated tongue click, though you can swear Levi’s lips are slightly shifted upwards.

Furlan gives you a once-over. “Why do I have a feeling you have something specific in mind?”

You grin mischievously. “Because I do.” 

You rumble through your bag and fish out a little notebook in which you’ve written down everything Levi and Furlan need to know. 

“As I’ve already mentioned, my father used to work in the weapon industry,” you remind them. “I did a bit of digging, and I found some useful stuff. I’ve written down the fastest poisons and sedatives I found. My dad’s notes are pretty old, so maybe there are better products on the market by now, but what I found is real damn impressive already. I also found something about blinding smoke bombs. Are you guys ready to hear my plan?”

Levi and Furlan exchange a look.

“From now on,” Furlan drawls, “you’re always going to be planning with us. It’s settled.”

You huff out a laugh. “Deal.”

You tell them that you want to make crossbows and knives for everyone so that the entire group has something to defend themselves with, in case things go south. Before you even need to ask, Levi proposes to help you train the boys with their aim. You give him a warm thanks, grateful for this suggestion. He doesn’t respond, but you’re sure he can tell how excited you are about teaching the boys how to shoot. It could potentially become chaotic, but you have a feeling it’s going to be a lot of fun too. The fact you’ll be able to observe Levi throwing blades and shooting targets makes you even more excited. Keeping an eye on those skills of his will definitely help you on your quest to find out more about him.

You continue your explanation by telling Levi and Furlan that you’ve examined your father’s designs, and that you’re certain you can make the necessary crossbows and poisonous shooting darts with a bit of help. You hand them the list of materials you still need to buy, and after skimming it through, Levi tells you he’ll get the boys to take care of it. 

It’s funny how much easier things are with an entire team at your disposal. Frankly, you’re a little envious of the way Levi can tell a whole group what to do any moment he pleases. Not that you’d want to shoulder his responsibilities, but it certainly must be nice to have a whole gang trust you so much that they follow your every word without questions or complaints.

The conversation topic shifts to your findings regarding sedatives and poisons. You explain that sedating drugs injected through the muscle have the slowest effect: it always takes long minutes before the person actually loses consciousness. In other words, shooting someone with a tranquilizer won’t knock them out fast enough to be discrete. The time the person realizes what is happening, they’ll be calling for help. However, poisons that locally paralyze the muscle tend to work much faster, so you tell Levi and Furlan that everyone should still carry a crossbow with poisonous darts. From what you’ve read in your father’s notes, the first symptoms of intense muscle cramps and drowsiness can set in quickly enough to give a big advantage during a fight. Eventually, the victim can lose consciousness too, though only after several minutes. Still, it definitely sounds promising.

For instant sedation in the tunnels, though, the only options are to sedate through inhalation or intravenous injection. Both methods have their issues, so you sheepishly admit to Levi and Furlan that you haven’t found an ideal solution yet, and that you’re hoping they’ll find better sedatives on the black market because things aren’t looking too bright right now.

When they demand more details, you explain that to sedate a guard through inhalation, you could sneak up behind them and press a tissue that has been dunked in a strong sedative against their mouth and nose. The problem, however, is that it takes a little while for the victim to lose consciousness. Most inhalation sedatives you’ve found in your dad’s notebook take more than five minutes to knock the victim out, though there’s one miracle-sedative on the list that works in under 20 seconds. Still, that leaves enough time for the guards to make some noise. Intravenous injection on the other hand, can make someone doze off in only three seconds. The problem is that you have no clue how to inject a needle into someone’s vein while they’re kicking and thrashing — hell, you wouldn’t even know how to do it on an unconscious person.

“Inhalation isn’t too much of a problem, it can be done silently,” Levi says after a moment of contemplation. “Even if it takes a whole minute for the person to be knocked out.”

You frown. “How?”

“There’s a trick to it. They can barely make any noise if their mouths and noses are completely pressed shut. They also can’t breathe, but here’s the trick: you cut off their air long enough so that when you finally let them breathe, they inhale really hard instead of screaming for help. Sedative gets deep inside their lungs, and the moment they want to make noise, you just cut off the air again. Repeat until they’re asleep.”

You blink.

…

“That's so fucked up. How do you even know all that?” You eye him with what you’re sure is an expression of complete horror. “… Should I be concerned?”

He merely gives you a bored stare.

“You know what?” you tell him. “I don’t even want to know.”

“If it helps to ease your mind,” Furlan interjects sheepishly before Levi has the chance to continue, “He only targets people who deserve the worst. Not saying that I always agree with everything he does, but… you get my point.”

“Good to know,” you reply, though you’re certain you still don’t sound reassured.

Levi rolls his eyes. “You think I spend my days baking cookies and twiddling my thumbs? Of course I have to do some fucked up shit sometimes. Get used to it.”

“Fine,” you grumble, before taking a sip of tea that has now long turned cold. Not as cold as Levi’s stare, though.

He exhales an irritated sigh. “As I was saying, it’ll work. It should be silent enough for most guards in the tunnels. The only exceptions could be the guards standing right next to the trade itself.” He taps on a familiar spot on the map: the location at which you both suspect the trade will take place. It’s a circular space that acts as a big intersection between four short tunnels. “If the deal happens here, like I think it will, I bet there will be one person guarding each of the four tunnels leading to the trade. If we don’t manage to knock them out really fast, the men at the trade will hear it. We’ll probably need to inject a sedative into their veins.”

“Oh fuck,” you groan. “But how do we do that?”

“I know the type of men who will be there. They don’t scream when a knife is suddenly pressed against their throat. The first instinct is always to freeze.” He pauses, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. “Still, I think we’ll need to find something personal to keep them silent and unmoving. Then, we immediately inject the fastest working sedative we can get our hands on. By the time they realize they’re getting drugged and should’ve made some noise, they’ll already be asleep.”

“Hold on. What do you mean by ‘finding something personal’?” You narrow your eyes. “You’re going to say something fucked up again, aren’t you?”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I mean finding names of people they love and care about, and immediately whisper those in their ears as convincing threats. Always does the trick, in my experience. They’ll freeze immediately. There’s no way they’ll be kicking and thrashing because they’ll be too terrified to. They’ll want to think their options through first. That should give the one injecting the sedative some time to get to it.”

“Yep. I was right. A little fucked up.”

“Like I give a shit.”

You ignore him. “My only worry is: can we really find someone’s vein that fast? I sure as hell can’t, especially not in those dark tunnels.”

Levi glances at Furlan. There’s a moment of silent communication between them, after which Furlan gives him a little nod.

“What is it?” you ask suspiciously.

Levi shifts his attention back to you. “Nothing. Just that Furlan and Elias can probably take care of it.”

You frown and look at Furlan, who is shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Something tells you this is entering delicate-conversation-topic territory, and you’re not sure you want to ask.

But Furlan answers your question without you needing to voice it.

“My mother,” he explains quietly. “She suffered from that disease that makes people lose function in their legs. It’s what Jan suffers from too. The only sort of treatment we could afford was something that had to be injected every few days. It worked for a little while. I always did the injections for her, and I got really good at it over time. So yes, Levi is right, I can probably take care of it.”

The mood in the room shifts. This is the first time you’re hearing anything personal about Furlan, and it makes your throat tighten. The fact he speaks of his mother in past tense speaks volumes.

“You sure?” you ask gently as you search his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. If it brings up bad memories, we can find another way.”

He gives you a little smile. It’s a slightly pained one, but it’s not disingenuous. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind, really.”

“If you change your mind, just tell us, okay?”

He nods. “I promise.”

You glance at Levi, who is observing you attentively.

“What about Elias?” you ask. 

Furlan sighs. “A different story.” He hesitates for a moment. “I normally wouldn’t tell, but he’s very open about it. He, well, he used to take drugs himself. He’s been clean for many years now, though. It was all long before we knew him.”

Oh. Your shoulders sink. You don’t know Elias at all, and your impression of him hasn’t been positive so far to say the least, but something about this new information makes him feel more real. More human, you suppose. It’s not necessarily deep sadness that you feel right now, but it’s definitely sympathy. And respect, because he managed to get out of the bottomless nightmare that is addiction.

“We shouldn’t have him do this, though,” you argue. “Doing injections will just bring him back to his past. Aren’t small things like this what can set off a relapse?”

“Normally I’d agree,” Furlan replies, “but it seems to have an opposite effect on Elias. Jan sometimes needs injections because of his legs, and Elias always insists on helping him and doing it for him.”

His eyes drift off. “I had a conversation with him about it once. I was worried, I thought maybe he wanted to help Jan with his injections because it was an indirect way to get back to the old times. Turns out it’s the opposite. Working with needles in a context that isn’t for drug use is something he purposely looks for, because it helps override the memory of what he used to do to himself. He admitted to me that it was like giving it a new meaning. I guess it’s different for everyone. But yeah, I’d never suggest this if I didn’t trust it’d be okay. Of course, we’ll make sure he’s fine with it, but if he is, I think we should do it.” 

“I see,” you murmur quietly. “Just keep in mind that there are alternatives. We could… I don’t know, still try to sedate them with the slow method. It’s kind of quiet, right?”

There’s a spark of determination in Furlan’s eyes as he shakes his head. “No. It’s not silent enough, and it’s not safe enough. We need those guards out and eliminated immediately. The mission is risky enough as it is, we can’t take more risks.”

“Okay,” you relent quietly, not wanting to push this further. “What about the darkness? There'll be light, of course, because those men still need to count their money. There are enough drainage holes in the ceiling to see decently, but it's still not ideal. Are you sure you can do it well in the darkness of the tunnels?”

“I’m sure.”

Levi huffs. “If the injection isn’t done with perfect accuracy and hygiene, that’s not our problem. We’re here to poison and rob the fuckers, not nurse them. If it looks like the vein isn’t hit properly and the guy is starting to cause problems instead of dozing off, we’ll have to slit his throat. I don’t like it either, especially since it’s not as silent and it’s a risk, but we just have to do what needs to be done.”

You sigh. “Fair enough.”

The conversation shifts to the most important topic: the plan itself. After a brief discussion, the three of you decide on the following: every single exit will be watched by someone in the group. That leaves four of you to enter the tunnels. If Levi manages to catch information on the guard’s position inside the tunnels, you'll take the route that crosses the least number of guards to get to the trade. The deal itself will take a while since there’s so much money and drugs to count. This will leave you with enough time to silently knock out every guard in the vicinity. You collect their guns, and using those, you force everyone at the trade to lay down and yield. 

“What if they refuse?” Furlan asks.

“I’d be surprised,” Levi replies. “The guns we’ll point at them will be from their own guards, so they’ll know we’ve been insane enough to wipe the entire perimeter. If they’re stupid enough to refuse, a shot in the leg usually does the trick. You just have to show them you mean it.”

You sneer. “All for the gentle methods, I see.”

Levi ignores your remark. “Only problem is that there will probably be four of them there: two from each party. And that’s the best-case scenario. Tying them up or sedating them while also holding a gun to their heads is risky. They’ll be fucking livid and they’ll be ready to take advantage of every small slip of focus, so we can’t start multitasking on them. One of us should just collect the money, while the others keep them restrained on the ground, ready to shoot if they make a single move. We can’t keep our eyes off of them for a single second.”

Furlan lets out a shuddering breath, and you're quite sure you just saw him wipe his sweaty hands on his pants.

“I agree,” you tell Levi, trying not to let Furlan’s nervousness get to you. “Trying to tie them up or trying to drug them while holding them at gunpoint is too dangerous. I actually thought about it at home, and I was thinking we could maybe use a blinding smoke bomb right when we get the hell out of there. Should be enough to prevent them from following us. That stuff really stings the eyes for a while, so by the time they manage to keep their eyes open for longer than half a second, we’ll be long gone.”

Levi tilts his head back and breathes out a quiet laugh. “You keep coming up with new shit, don’t you?”

You want to answer, but you’re caught off guard by the fact Levi is actually laughing. When he looks back at you, his lips are still curled up in a faint smile, and it makes something flutter inside your chest. It’s damn annoying, but he looks stupidly handsome when he’s at ease like this.

 “That better not be a complaint,” you warn him.

“Far from.”

Now you’re the one smiling. “Good.”

“I don’t know how you two can be laughing and smiling like this right now,” Furlan grumbles. “I’m sweating already thinking about what mess we’re putting ourselves in.” 

Levi shrugs. “We just need to be well prepared. I’ll keep a constant eye on Rocco’s men until the trade. As long as we have all the information they have, we’re many steps ahead.”

“Fine.” Furlan sighs, rubbing his temples. “Of course, we can only do all this if we find the sedatives on this list. I’ll have to do some digging. Our plans need to be secret so I can’t just go around asking everyone, but I’ll do my best.”

You give him an encouraging smile. “Thanks for this, Furlan.”

“This goes without saying, but we’ll steal the sedatives, of course,” Levi remarks. “If those products you put on your list are even sold on the black market, they’re going to be expensive as shit. We’re not wasting our money on that.”

“Is that our next move?” you ask, excitement bubbling in your stomach. “Robbing some crime boss and taking all their sedating drugs?”

“Yes,” Levi confirms, lips curled up into something that resembles a faint smile. “And you’re going to help us.”

Chapter Text

It’s a quiet afternoon when you receive a letter from Luna. 

You’re sitting at the edge of your couch as you open the envelope with nervous fingers. The letter trembles slightly in your hands as you unfold it, but when your eyes fall on the first few sentences, a deep sigh of relief leaves your lips. 

Luna is doing good. Great, in fact. Her treatment is nowhere near done, she explains, but she’s doing much much better. Her days of being in a critical state are officially over, and she was even allowed to take a short walk in the hospital’s garden a few days ago. 

‘I teared up when I looked at that vast blue sky. It was so magical. I can’t even explain how it is to stare at something so bright and… infinite. It felt like a dream. It’s the first time I’ve seen the sky, because I wasn’t really conscious during my ride to the hospital, so you can’t even imagine how shocked and emotional I was. It was so surreal, watching strange fluffy white things floating in infinite blue. You wouldn’t believe your eyes if you were there. For a moment, I actually thought I was hallucinating.’

She goes on to explain that getting all misty-eyed at the sight of the sky doesn’t compare to the way she burst into full sobs when she actually entered the hospital’s garden. 

‘I can’t describe it. No description could do it justice anyway. It’s kind of like the drawings we’ve always seen, but at the same time, it’s so far from that. I never realized how much we’re surrounded by brown and grey and stale colors at home, until I entered that garden. The flowers were more vibrant than grandmother’s most expensive fabrics. It was almost dizzying. I’ve never seen colors like that before. And the trees, oh my God, don’t even get me started. I know you were always freaking out about those things when we were kids, and you know what? You were so right about that. What mom always said is true: those things get bigger than buildings. It’s insane. I wish you could see all this.’ 

She goes on to say that of course, the nurses sprung into action when she burst into tears, faces creased in concern. Before they had the chance to drag Luna back to her room, she quickly managed to tell them — between all her snottering — that she was just emotional because she had never been outside before. The nurses gave her looks of pity and sympathy, saying they understood, though you’re sure they could never really understand what it must’ve felt like for Luna to stare at a sight they deem so mundane.  

Once you finish reading the letter, you carefully fold it and put it back in its envelope. Fetching a quill and a bottle of black ink, you seat yourself behind your desk and start writing a letter yourself. A smile plays on your lips as you try to put into words the relief you feel when thinking about Luna’s promising health update. Also, the happiness that flutters in your chest knowing she’s finding fortune in misfortune. You tell her that when she’ll be back, she will have to describe every magical detail about the outside world to you. 

You briefly debate on telling her you might soon see that beautiful sky and those strangely high trees too, but you decide against it. It would mean you’d have to explain you’re in a gang now, and that you’re going to perform a dangerous heist. Luna may not be in a critical condition anymore, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe for her to start worrying. You’ll tell her one day — at least if this whole gang-thing turns out to be permanent — but today is not the day.

After signing your letter and putting it into an envelope, you get up and make yourself some lunch. 

Canned tomato soup and old stale bread are on the menu today, unfortunately.

As you open a can of soup and pour the contents into a little casserole, your mind wanders to Levi and Furlan. You haven’t heard anything from them since the last meet-up, which was a few days ago. In the meantime, you’ve run some errands, visited Finn to have dinner with him, and hung around at Gary’s bar. All the while, it’s been impossible to keep your mind off of the mission.

Or, if you’re going to be perfectly honest with yourself, it’s been impossible to keep your mind off of Levi. Ever since you’ve been theorizing about his family secrets, it's been hard not to think about him. You’re aware it’s a bit ridiculous, but nonetheless, your curiosity has been untameable the past few days. Unfortunately, the fact you haven’t seen him for a little while and have no idea what he’s been up to, somehow makes it worse. It’s been impossible to stop yourself from picturing his suspiciously impressive skills, such as the way he flips knives with scary agility or expertly soars through the sky in ODM gear like no one else in the Underground. He undeniably is very Ackerman-ish.

Regrettably, you have no choice but to admit you’re truly fascinated by him. Like… fatally fascinated.

But in an intrigued way, nothing more. It’s just simple, rational curiosity. You don’t care about him, you just care about his genes. It’s nothing personal, so there’s absolutely no need to be concerned about this new fascination. It’s simply about you and your own journey to connect with your past, and Levi doesn’t actually have anything to do with it. You’d be just as fascinated if it was someone else.

… Anyway. 

Admittedly, every time you’ve been at Gary’s bar the past few days, you’ve had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking him questions about Levi. Gary would undoubtedly get suspicious since you’ve already dropped his name before, so his previous concerned speech about how you should ‘stay far away from dangerous thugs like him’, would quickly escalate to full-blown concern. He’d undoubtedly whip out his shotgun from under his bar, telling you he won’t leave you out of sight until he’s sure you’re not involved with Levi or any other dangerous gang leader in the city who could threaten your safety.

So, to spare the man and yourself, you’ve decided to be nosy in secret. Just the casual stuff, like visiting other bars and wandering past shady pubs, hoping to catch Levi’s name in conversations. Evidently, your quest hasn’t been successful. Why is it that once you know someone’s name, you start to hear them everywhere, but if you specifically look for it, you never come across it ever again? 

Life just loves to play games like that, it seems.

Granted, you felt a little ridiculous during your half-assed spying sessions. You’d love to blame your silly behavior on boredom, but it’s not like you don’t have better things to do. Considering the big heist will be in more than a month, you seriously need to do some robberies of your own as soon as possible. Your food stockpile is nearing its end, and you’ve only got a few coins left in your drawer, so you’re in a deep crisis.

In fact, the can of tomato soup that is now heating in your casserole is one of the last ones you’ve got. A tragedy.

Remembering you’re in the midst of a cooking session (if you can even call it that), you give your watery tomato soup a good swirl. You’re just about to give it another swirl, when someone knocks on the door, causing you to almost drop your spoon. 

You freeze, heart jumping in your chest and eyes flashing to the door.

There’s a second knock.

Silence.

“Hey, it’s me. You there?”

A deep breath of relief escapes your lungs as your shoulders fall. Trying to shake off the spike of panic that is still clenching your heart, you get up and reach for the door. 

“Hi!” you greet Noah with a smile as you open the door for him. “Come in, come in. I’ve got something on the stove so I can’t stand here for too long.”

He takes a sharp inhale. “I can tell.” He walks in, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he flashes you a warm smile. “And hi you. Been a little while.”

You close the door behind him, trying to recall the last time you saw him and the group. 

“Almost a week?” you guess.

“Something like that. Too long either way,” he replies light-heartedly as he follows you to the kitchen. “You know, now that you’re part of us, you should join us during our daily hangings. We’re always near the hideout. Either at the hideout itself, or at Jojo’s bar, or at Henk’s tavern.”

He turns and points a finger at you, feigning a stern look. “I expect you to join us every day from now on.”

Your brows lift in surprise as you enter the kitchen and approach the stove. “Every day?” you repeat while picking up your wooden spoon to give the soup another swirl.

“Yes. It’s hard work being in a gang, you know? You gotta withstand Paul’s and Caleb’s bickering on the daily. I know what you’re thinking: 'the horror', and I agree, but gang-life is just rough like that.” His voice is coated with light-hearted sarcasm as he leans against the kitchen counter, watching you put your culinary ‘skills’ to work. “Can’t blame you if you leave us because of it, though.”

You snort a laugh. “Damn. Someone should’ve warned me that being in a gang would be so demanding,” you tease, “I would’ve reconsidered.”

His smile broadens. “Good thing no one told you, then.”

His gaze wanders around the room, his attention caught by his surroundings. He moves away from the counter, the wooden floorboards creaking under his shoes as he starts to walk around the kitchen. With badly-hidden curiosity, he eyes the cupboards, the stove, and the wooden table in the middle of the room — which, admittedly, is too big for you considering it once served as a family table. After inspecting the kitchen, he saunters towards the door, which opens up to your living room. 

You reduce the heat on the stove, listening to his creaking footsteps as he explores the house.

“Having fun?” you call out. 

“Actually, I do. You have a really nice place,” he remarks.

“Awh. You came all the way down here to compliment my home? I’m flattered, but you didn’t need to,” you tease.

You hear him chuckle before walking back to the kitchen. He joins you again, leaning his elbow on the kitchen counter and watching you. “Would’ve been very cute, but Levi sent me, actually. You’ve got a mission today.”

Your brows rise in excitement. “Oh?”

“Which, by the way, is also one of the reasons I’m asking you to join us during our daily hangings. As much as I love knocking on your door and disturbing you in the middle of your cooking sessions, it’s probably quicker communication if you’re close by.”

You glance at him, casting him an apologetic look. “Sorry you had to go fetch me. Will this delicious tomato soup make up for it? Cooked it all by myself. A dream for your tastebuds.”

Amusement tugs at his lips as he grabs the empty soup can on the counter — a clear proof that you, in fact, did not cook it yourself. “You’re a culinary chef too? You never cease to amaze.”

You grin and turn off the stove. “Yes, and my masterwork is done, so you have the honor of getting a taste.”

Despite Noah’s polite protests, you pour him a bowl of soup before pouring yourself one. You seat him at the kitchen table and offer him a piece of old bread. He refuses, of course, and this time, you decide to spare the man and consume the near-uneatable thing on your own.

“Did Levi tell you anything about my mission today?” you ask after chewing on the rather disgusting bread you’re torturing yourself with.

“Mhm,” he hums as he takes a spoonful of soup. “Something about stealing sedatives and other stuff from a guarded warehouse. Sounded intense, but pretty fun if you ask me.”

Noah must notice the sparkle of excitement in your eyes because he does a double-take and laughs. “Someone’s looking forward to it, I see.”

“I do,” you admit, mirroring his amused expression. “Are you joining the mission too?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s gonna be you, Levi, Furlan, and Kai, I think.”

Kai. Isn’t he the boy whose mother is sick?

Noah must realize what you’re thinking, because he continues. “Don’t think you’ve been introduced to him yet, but you’ve seen him at the meetup last time. Small height, short brown hair, and the youngest one in our group. He’s sixteen, but he looks younger than that.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you tell him as you take another bite of bread. 

“He’s a sneaky lil' shit,” says Noah, a fond smile appearing on his lips. “He’s the type to pickpocket ten people in a row without anyone noticing. My guess is that that’s the reason why Levi chose him to do the robbing today. You’ll probably need to be really sneaky.”

“Sneaky, huh?” you repeat, smirking. “I like the sound of that.” 

He chuckles. “I’m sure you do. In the meantime, Paul, Isabel, and I will get the materials you asked for to make the knives and the crossbows. Levi gave us a whole list.” 

“Isabel?” You sound surprised even to your own ears. “So you’ve met her?”

“Sure have,” he confirms, looking like he wants to laugh. ”A wild little thing. First words she told Paul when she was introduced to him was that his shirt, which he had just stolen, looked ‘silly as hell’. Of course, this earned her a lot of appreciation points from Caleb. They’re pretty much best buddies now.”

Your eyes widen. “Best buddies? With Caleb? Damn, she’s fitting right in I see.” You can’t help but smile as you imagine those two: a sarcastic grump and a ray of sunshine. “I knew she’d be a perfect addition.”

“Oh yes, she fits perfectly. After that little insult, Paul gave her a proud head pat, saying no enemy could stand a chance now that we have her sharp mouth on our team.”

You snort out a laugh. “Honestly, I didn’t notice she had a sharp mouth. When I met her, she just seemed sweet as hell. But then again, I didn’t talk to her for long.”

“Oh she is sweet,” he confirms, looking highly amused, “but also a wild little rascal. A good combo of both.” 

You’re just about to reply when a realization hits you, halting you in your tracks. “Hold on — you said she was going to come along to buy the materials for the mission, but last time I spoke to Levi, he said Isabel couldn’t know about the mission.”

“Oh, yeah, well that plan isn’t going all too well so far,” Noah explains, shrugging and taking another spoonful of soup. “Apparently, she overheard Levi and Furlan talking about the materials we’ll need to make the weapons. She immediately wanted to help, especially once she heard that you were the one designing the weapons. Needless to say, Levi has already given up on keeping her out completely. I don’t think she knows much about the mission though, and Levi forbids her to ask, but I don’t know how long that’ll last. ”

You can’t help but laugh. “Damn. I hope Levi isn’t regretting taking her in. How is he handling things with her around far?”

“He sighs and complains a lot, but between you and me, I can tell he won’t let her go. I sometimes catch him looking at her with more fondness and care than I’ve ever seen on him before. Especially when she calls him her brother. I’m telling you, she has a solid place in his heart already.”

“That’s… so fucking adorable.”

A broad smile spreads over his face. “It is, isn’t it?”

When you both finish your meals, you briefly leave Noah so you can get ready in your room. Though you’re not sure how armed you should be for this robbery, you strap a few knives around your thigh. Once finished, you join Noah in the living room.

“You ready?” he asks, already walking towards the door.

You hesitate. “Um, Noah? I uh…” Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

He glances back, his eyes meeting yours. He frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Yes, it’s just… I don’t usually get out through that door.”

He looks completely confused. Dammit. How do you even explain this?

“See, I’m… a bit of a cautious person because I’ve always worked on my own. So the thing is, no one knows I sleep here. I always get out through another door.” You fiddle with your shirt, feeling slightly nervous. You’re not sure why you feel so embarrassed, but it feels like you’re sharing some strange quirk that no one could understand.

“Oh.” His brows crease. “No, I get it. It makes sense, I wouldn’t want people to know where I sleep either if I was doing what you did before. You know — going after groups and gangs on your own. It’s smart to be careful.” 

Your shoulders relax a little, but they relax even more at the sight of Noah’s encouraging smile.

“You should’ve told me,” he adds. “I wouldn’t have entered through that front door.”

“Oh, no it’s fine,” you wave off, shaking your head. “Actually, it’s probably better if you enter through there. That way, no one in my neighborhood associates our gang with me, since they don’t know I live here.”

“Where do they think you live, then?” he asks, unable to hide his confusion.

You purse your lips. “Come, I’ll show you.”

As you lead him to your bedroom, you feel strangely nervous. You hesitate when you stop in front of your closet, feeling your palms turning sweaty. Behind the closet door lies a big hole in the wall that leads to the small apartment you and Luna lived in when you were children. You’ve never shown this to anyone before, and it makes you slightly anxious. It feels like some sort of deep secret you’re not supposed to share. Frankly, it kind of is. The only reason this whole setup exists is because your parents hid the fact they were related to you and Luna. It stems from a story you’re not supposed to tell, which makes the whole ordeal a lot more uncomfortable. Not to mention that you’ve always been very secretive, and you’re not used to letting that go.

Nonetheless, you reach for the closet door and open it. Noah’s expression shifts from intrigue to disbelief when you move the hanging coats out of the way, revealing a large wooden board that partly hides the huge hole behind it. You carefully move the wooden board aside so Noah can see the large hole in the wall, though the path is still blocked on the other side. 

“Holy shit,” Noah breathes. “Is that…?” 

Finding it better to show him instead of answering his question, you crouch down and move the plank blocking the way on the other side of the wall, revealing the inside of another closet. A few long coats are hanging there too.

Noah crouches down beside you, gaping at the sight with widened eyes. “Hold on, is that a closet? From another room?”

You nod. “This leads to the building behind ours. It’s a really small apartment I pretend to live in, but I actually sneak to this bigger house every day.” 

You look at him, but when you see his widened green eyes, you shift your gaze away and shrug sheepishly. “I know it seems like a lot of effort, but it feels safer to live this way. The people I’ve robbed all my life are insane, so I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Hey.” He frowns and touches your shoulder, seeming even more confused by your reaction than your setup. “Why are you acting like this is something to be ashamed of? It’s cool as hell, and I’m sure if the other boys knew about this trick, they’d be just as amazed. You don’t need to explain yourself. You’re cautious and smart, and it’s the very reason why Levi had such a hard time tracking you down. Knowing you have the guts to mess around with guys like him, it’s a relief to know you take measures like these.”

“Oh,” you reply stupidly, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you were embarrassed in the first place. “I —“ you hesitate, a little speechless by his warm acceptance. “Thanks for saying that. I’ve never shown this to anyone before, so I guess I didn’t know what to expect. I wouldn’t blame someone if they thought it was a little over the top.”

His eyes search yours. “Do you think it’s over the top?”

For a moment, you’re not sure what to say. Something Noah doesn’t know is that no, you’re not the type to target men like Levi. In fact, before him, you had never gone after a gang before. It’s not that your cautiousness is unwarranted exactly; the men you’ve always targeted may not be skilled and organized, but they are unhinged. However, it’s still a little much, and you’ve always had a love-hate relationship with your cautiousness. Or, If you’re going to call it what it is: fear. It’s exhausting, and you often miss the protective veil your parents offered. It would be nice to let go more often. 

Still, overall, you wouldn’t say your lifestyle is over the top exactly.

“I don’t think so,” you finally tell Noah, acutely aware that your long pause has made it abundantly clear you aren’t so sure of yourself.

His eyes linger on you for a moment, but he eventually shifts his gaze to the closet on the other side of the wall. “I have to ask, how did you even…?”

“My parents were cautious like me. They made this.”

You hope that the finality of your tone conveys you’re not in the mood to discuss this any further.

He gets it, because he doesn’t ask.

You clear your throat. “Okay, well, we better get going if we don’t want to keep Levi waiting for too long. I’ll let you out.” 

You get out of the closet and get to your feet again, but halt when your eyes meet Noah's. “And… thanks again, seriously,” you tell him with a little smile. “I’m not sure why I was worried you wouldn’t understand, but it’s good to know I had no reason to.”

His expression warms, showing his dimples again. “Of course. Don’t mention it.”

You let him out through the door he came through, locking it shut behind him with a heavy set of locks. Then, you join him outside by taking your usual exit.

The walk to the hideout is pleasant and relaxed. You both talk about nothing and everything at the same time; discussing what the boys have been up to lately, how Noah’s band has been progressing, and small entertainments you’ve missed such as yesterday’s fight at Jojo’s bar (which Caleb stopped quickly enough because he found all the noise to be beyond irritating). Frankly, it’s quite enjoyable to hear Noah talk about the group’s shenanigans. It’s like they’re one big family, it’s heartwarming.

You don’t even notice time has passed until you arrive at the hideout. You both march up the stairs, reaching the front door.

Noah knocks.

The door swings open, revealing an excited Isabel, whose eyes immediately light up at the sight of you and Noah. “They’re there!” she calls out.

She lets you in, and you can’t help but laugh a little at her giddy expression as you wipe your shoes on the doormat before entering the room. Inside, you find Levi, Furlan, and Paul sitting on the couches in the middle of the room. 

“Heyy guys!” Paul greets with his usual excited wave. He gives Noah and Isabel a look, flashing them a lopsided grin. “Ready for some heavy lifting, you two? We need to get a shitton of wood and steel.” 

“It’s not exactly a shitton,” you interject quietly.

“I’m ready!” Isabel quips, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt as she gives you a determined look. “We’ll get ya all the stuff you need!” 

You chuckle, unable to hold back your amusement. “I’m counting on you.” 

Noah turns to you. “When we’re done, we’ll pass by Jan and Caleb, because I promised Isabel to show her our band. After that, though, we’ll probably be at Henk’s tavern. So when you’re done, come by and we’ll come with you to drop the materials at your place.”

You grin. “You’re going to convince her to join the band, won’t you?”

He wiggles his brows. “Maybe.”

“I want to see first if you guys are good, though!” Isabel interjects, to which Paul snorts.

The three of them leave, and when the door shuts behind them — creating a sudden silence as Isabel’s chatter turns into a muffled mumble behind the door — you approach Furlan and Levi to join them on the couch. 

Furlan’s eyes are gleaming with anticipation as he looks at you. “Ready for the mission?” he asks. 

He’s wearing leather straps around his chest and thighs, and so is Levi. You’re quite sure it’s part of their ODM gear. Maybe they just robbed a merchant earlier.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You found something about the sedatives and poisons, and we’re going to steal some of it now?”

A mischievous smile catches Furlan’s lips. “Exactly. We’re just waiting for Kai to come. He was visiting his mother but he’ll be here soon.”

“Furlan found everything we need, by the way,” Levi informs you, face expressionless. 

Your eyes widen a little. “He did?”

Furlan nods. “I found one of the paralyzing poisons you mentioned, and the fastest tranquilizers on your list. Good news is that it can all be found in one big storage building, so we just need to rob one place. It’s a decently big warehouse, and the whole building is owned by Drakan, one of the biggest crime bosses in the west. He’s known to use all methods necessary to expand his territory. Man doesn’t shy away from chemical weapons, as you can probably guess.”

“I see…” you muse. “So we’re sticking to the plan? When we shoot from a distance, we use the paralyzing poison, and inside the tunnels, we sedate the guards and hope they fall asleep fast enough?”

Furlan nods. “That’s the plan. I did some digging, and I found that the paralyzing poison you mentioned does exactly what you said: it immediately cramps and paralyzes the muscle it’s been shot in, then makes the victim confused and dizzy, and after a little while, they tend to lose consciousness. Time this takes depends on the person, though. Someone smaller and younger will feel it way stronger than a bigger person. In fact, a dosage that is fine for one person can be deadly for another. Same for the tranquilizers.”

You hum. “I guess we should go for a high enough dosage, then. The guards will probably all be big and strong anyway, and if they’re not, then that sucks for them. ”

Furlan’s lips curl up in a little smile. “That’s what Levi and I agreed on too. Though, I don’t really trust our inexperienced selves to handle those toxic chemicals, especially since the dosage needs to be really exact and all, so we found someone else who will load the darts for us. It’s close to his field of expertise, so I trust he’ll do fine.”

You hesitate. “And who is he?”

“Someone we can trust,” Levi interjects, clearly aware of what is going on in your mind. “We’ve worked with him many times before. I’m not one to trust easily, but I have to say, he’s the most trustworthy guy we can get our hands on. We pay him well, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Besides, he has no idea what we’re doing anyway. Not asking questions is part of his job.”

You glance at Furlan, but he doesn’t look worried either, which says enough about the matter.

Levi leans back on the couch while holding your gaze. “You should probably know, he also pointed us to the type of syringes we need for the right dosage. They should be in that storage building too, along with the tranquilizer darts we could use. I know you said you can probably make those darts yourself, but from what we’ve heard, we can just steal them. It’ll spare us time. We’ll just let our guy fill them up with whatever poison we need.”

“That’s… great actually,” you admit, feeling relieved at this news. One month for preparation isn’t a long time, so the less you have to fabricate yourself, the better. “Those darts are actually the first thing I need to design the crossbows. It’s because I need to know how big and heavy they are for a perfect fit.” 

“Makes sense,” says Furlan. He bites his lip and sighs. “Only bad news is that the warehouse we’re about to rob is highly guarded. Their stuff is obviously worth a fortune, so of course, it won’t be easy. We’ve got a plan, though.”

“Oh?” This catches your interest.

“Furlan and I will use our ODM gear,” Levi explains. “You and Kai do the actual stealing. We’ll explain later.”

You lift a brow. “You’re just gonna keep me in suspense like this huh?”

He clicks his tongue. “Yes. Quit complaining. It’ll be easier to explain while we’re there.”

You chuckle at his irritation, but your smile falters ever so slightly when you remember what is awaiting you. “How dangerous is it going to be, on a scale of one to ten?”

Furlan strokes his jaw. “About seven. Maybe eight.”

“Lovely,” you mumble.

“It won’t be that bad,” Levi argues with a shrug. “And if it helps, think about the compensation we’ll get.”

“It does help,” you agree. You think about Luna’s letter: how she burst into tears when going on her first walk outside, how magical she described it to be. You try to imagine what she must’ve seen, but all you can muster are mental images you’ve made up since you were a child. 

“I still can’t believe we might go outside,” you tell them quietly.

“Me neither.” Furlan’s voice is as distant as yours.

You smile a little. “It’s worth all the trouble. I mean, we’re so used to putting ourselves in constant danger to have an income, but I’ve never had this kind of motivation behind it. It feels good for a change.”

“Yeah… and I think it’s even more important for Jan than for us,” says Furlan, a hint of somberness appearing in his eyes. “His legs are bad because he gets no sunlight. Jan, Kai, Paul, and Noah have never been outside before, which can’t be good.” He sighs and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t know how much a trip outside in the sunlight will do for him health-wise — I’m not a doctor — but it has to do something, right? If not, then at least it’ll cheer him up, which I think is important too when your body gives up on you. Having nothing to hold onto mentally and physically is the worst.”

He pauses for a moment, looking lost in thought while staring off, sorrow and distance washing over his eyes. After a moment, he sighs, looking at you and Levi with a more determined expression. “You know, at first I thought we’d better spare the money, but I’ve never seen the boys so motivated, and I’ve never been so motivated myself either. I’ve realized it’s what we’ve been needing all along, desperately. Just something to remind us there’s more to life than surviving. We need to see something else besides stinking sewages and disease-ridden streets.” He looks down, his jaw tightening. “If going to the surface wasn’t so damn expensive, we would have done many trips outside. Maybe Jan’s legs wouldn’t have turned so bad.”

Levi glances at Furlan, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. “But it is damn expansive and there’s no point imagining a world where that wouldn't be the case. It’ll just make you more miserable, Furlan. Stairway toll has only been going up through the years and it’s screwing us in the ass, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Furlan releases a defeated sigh, his shoulders sinking. “I know. It’s just… so many people rot away without seeing the surface once. All those people controlling the prices are fucking evil.” He lets out a humorless huff. “Do you know that the first time I wanted to go outside on my own, the guards told me the price had almost doubled and I didn’t have enough. Then, they had the nerve to tell me I should manage my money better and spare some cash instead of spending it all. I wanted to kill them.”

You give Furlan an incredulous stare. “You kidding?”

“I wish I was,” Furlan grumbles, looking angrier than you’ve ever seen before. “They looked bored. They probably wanted to piss me off to have a reason to arrest me.”

You scoff in disgust. “Probably. They may not live here and they may get a good income because they work for Lobov and all the other shits controlling the Stairways, but they know damn well how many diseases are circling around here, and how dangerous our jobs tend to be. The second you’ve finally got some money spared, it immediately gets sucked away because you or a loved one needs medicine or care. Sparing money is impossible. They must know that.”

Levi’s eyes fall on you. “Which is why I force everyone to stay hygienic. Dirt spreads disease, which only brings more poverty and death. People would be less miserable if they weren’t so fucking dirty all the time.”

You open your mouth, then close it again. You think about the last time you were here, when Levi forced you through a torturous cleaning session. It’s clear he’s a bit of a germaphobe, but to be fair, it’s for a damn good reason. You suddenly regret your attitude from that time a little. The way he scrubs his floors even after its long clean reminds you of the way you sometimes watch your neighborhood for hours, even when it’s clear no one followed you home. Both are meticulous habits that, at the end of the day, are born from rational concerns. 

Furlan tilts his head back, resting it on the couch. “It’s a vicious cycle. Work harder to get a higher income? The extra physical strain and danger will cost you half the yield. Everything about this place makes it a pit-hole we can’t escape. We’re crushed under these bastards' feet,” he says, pointing at the ceiling, a gesture that is quite accurate considering there’s a fair chance some Mitras inhabitants are seated high above this room. “There’s no way for the poor to escape. It’s been purposely built this way.”

You tilt your head back too, staring at the ceiling. “I wonder how they live. Those people above.”

He huffs humourlessly. “Guess we’ll see soon.”

There’s a moment of somber silence. You glance at the two men. Furlan is still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Levi is staring into nothingness, his mind clearly elsewhere too.

“You two have been outside before, right?” you ask, trying to lift the mood a little. You’d much rather talk about happier things right now.

Furlan nods, his expression shifting to something a little more relaxed. “With my mother, when I was around ten or something. Then again as a teenager. I was extremely lucky and robbed a man who happened to be insanely rich. It was probably his first trip down the Underground because no one with any experience here carries that much money around.”

You smile a little, trying to imagine young Furlan, flooded with excitement and disbelief as he finds out he stole a fortune big enough to go outside.

“When I was a kid,” Levi answers your question quietly. “I don’t remember much, though.”

You search his eyes. “What do you remember?”

“Trees.” He pauses. “And those swimming birds, too." He briefly searches his mind before adding, "—ducks.”

You don’t know if you should laugh or be afraid. “…swimming birds?”

Furlan lifts a brow. “You’ve never heard of ducks? Never been outside?”

“No. How do birds swim? What’s the purpose of being a bird, then?”

Furlan snorts. 

Levi, on the other hand, rolls his eyes. “Not everything has to have a damn purpose. Also, they don’t actually swim, they… float.”

“Float? That makes even less sense. What are they, boats? Can birds even fly with drenched feathers?”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose in aggravation. “Taking you outside will be such a fucking pain in the ass,” he groans. “Maybe we should abort the entire heist.”

You try to choke back a laugh, but you’re only half successful. You’re just about to retort, when there’s a knock on the door. 

“It’s open!” Furlan calls.

The next moment, a young boy with a brown crop of hair walks in. You immediately recognize him. Kai.

“Hi you,” Furlan greets with a smile, before shifting his eyes to you. “This is Kai, by the way. He’s been in the gang for nearly a year.”

Kai grins, his hazel eyes taking you in. “I’m finally doin’ a mission with the badass who outsmarted us?” 

Pleasantly surprised by this compliment, you chuckle and shoot him a mischievous smile. “Heard you’re not so bad yourself. Noah described you as being a ‘sneaky little shit’.”

He sniggers. “He’s not wrong.” 

Furlan’s gaze shifts from you to Kai. “Well, you two look ready for a mission together.” He sounds pleased.

A shit-eating grin crawls across Kai’s face. “Hell yeah! What’re we doin’ today?” 

“Robbing a storage building,” says Levi as he gets up and walks to the table behind the couches. “Come here you two.”

As you and Kai approach him, you notice there are two backpacks on the table. On each lays a note. Upon closer inspection, you notice both contain a short list of chemicals, which you immediately recognize as the names of the paralyzing poison and the two types of sedatives you need.

“What is that?” Kai mumbles as he grabs one of the notes, squinting at the complicated chemical names scribbled down.

“The shit you’ll have to steal today. Remember those names, the bottles you need to put in your bags will be labeled with it.” Levi approaches Kai and slips the note out of his hands in one swift move. He glances at the list with a bored look, before handing it back. “Number next to each name is how many bottles you’ll have to steal. We need pretty small dosages apparently, so it’s not much.”

Kai scratches his head. “How the hell do I even pronounce any of this?” 

“You don’t.” 

Levi turns around and reaches down for something behind the table. You peep over the corner, noticing a whole heap of gear on the ground. 

ODM gear. 

Levi picks up two handles, slipping his fingers through them and clicking the triggers for a few test tries.

Kai’s eyes widen at the sight. “We gonna fly?” 

“Yes,” Levi confirms without looking at the boy. He starts attaching two gigantic gas pumps and God-knows-what-else on the leather straps wrapped around his body. Furlan walks over and joins him, making quick work of installing his ODM gear too.

Your eyes widen, realization hitting you. “Hold on. We are going to fly? As in — all of us?”

“You bet,” says Furlan. He isn’t facing you, but you can hear the smile on his lips. He’s clearly enjoying your sudden bout of panic.

“Ah shit,” Kai groans. “I’m still a lil’ scared of heights. Go easy on me, alright?”

“Wait but—“ you look from Kai to Levi, to Kai again. “I can’t fly, so…?”

“Can’t either.” Kai shrugs. “They’re gonna carry us.”

“Oh.” 

Kai gives you what you suspect is supposed to be a reassuring smile, but he’s not looking all too excited about this either, and it’s not helping. Last time you ‘flew’ was when Levi was oh so kind to break into your house, tie you up, and kidnap you. Not that your other experiences with ODM gear have been much better, but you digress.

Levi and Furlan finish installing their ODM gear way sooner than you’d hoped, and before you know it, Levi mumbles a “Let’s go,” and heads to the door.

Great. Now you’re sweating. At least the airflow during the flight will evaporate all of that underway, along with your will to live.

You and Kai grab your backpacks and stick the two notes in your pockets, exchanging a glance. His nervousness mirrors yours, though you can tell you’re even more anxious about all of this than he is.

Closing the door behind you, you follow Levi and Furlan down the stairs until you’re all standing in the little open area in front of the hideout.  

“Alright.” Levi sighs, turning around to look at you and Kai. “Who goes with who?”

“I’m going with Furlan,” Kai says quickly.

You frown. His words flew out very fast. 

A little too fast for your liking.

You cast him a look, but he simply purses his lips and gives you a smile that looks dangerously close to an apologetic one.

You narrow your eyes. “What’s wrong with going with Levi?”

“Nothing at all,” Kai says quickly, his tongue working at the speed of light once again.

That was even more suspicious.

Levi lets out an impatient sigh. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t have all damn day.” 

Furlan purses his lips to hide a laugh, before turning his back to Kai. The boy mumbles a “here goes nothing” under his breath, then jumps on Furlan’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck.

You swallow. Are you supposed to jump on Levi’s back too? You’re not trying to sound like the touch-starved-secluded-little-shit you actually are, but that feels like an awful lot of physical contact.

You glance at Kai, who mouths a silent “Good luck,” to you.  

You’re sure he’s not talking about the physical contact you’re so nervous about — probably just the fact that you’re going to fucking die during this flight — but you appreciate the support nonetheless.

Levi turns around and faces his back to you. 

Trying to ignore the nervousness rushing under your skin, you take a step forward and jump on his back. He immediately wraps his fingers around your thighs to catch you, causing your breath to involuntarily hitch in your throat. You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders as he holds you in place. You can’t even get yourself to pull him closer. Last time you felt so much of him was in the tunnels, and lord this isn’t the moment to think about that again.

Trying to stop your thoughts in their tracks, you glance at Kai. Both your gazes meet at the same time, and you notice there’s something glimmering behind those hazel irises. Fear. You give him a look that you hope conveys you’re equally afraid, and silently mouth that you’re hoping you both will still be friends in the afterlife.

The corners of his mouth start to quirk upwards, and it takes you a second to realize his expression has shifted from nervousness to amusement. You immediately realize why: you both look hilariously pathetic, almost peeing your pants because you’re going to be carried to your destination like toddlers on their parents' backs. Kai’s lips are quivering in a futile attempt to repress a laugh, and before you know it, you’re doing the same.

He’s the first one to snort into laughter, which immediately sets you off too. The boy’s laugh is high-pitched, almost sounding like a dying rat in between wheezes of laughter. His laugh has got to be the most hilarious sound you’ve ever heard, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Shut up, you fucking idiots,” Levi grunts. “Focus.” 

You both try to stop as best as you can, but it’s only after Levi scolds you two with an irritated tongue click that you finally manage to press your mouths shut.

“And cling your legs properly onto me,” he demands as he looks back, causing your faces to suddenly be dangerously close to each other. “I can’t hold you during the flight. I have to aim with the handles.” 

This sudden extreme physical closeness makes your amusement vanish as quickly as it came. Trying to swallow your nervousness away, you loop your legs around him and wrap your arms more tightly around his neck. The lean muscles covering his back, his stomach, and his shoulders, are hard under your grip, and you genuinely can’t tell whether the heat in your body is caused by the stress of the coming flight or by all this physical contact. You pull yourself close enough for his ODM harness to press into your skin, but your grip is still rather hesitant, not used to touching him — or anyone else for that matter — to this extent.

That is, until he suddenly launches forward without a warning.

The shockingly high force at which he shoots forward makes you gasp — though that could’ve also been a quiet yelp — and your entire stomach plummets. Your hesitant grip immediately switches to a tight one as wind slashes against your face.

A second later, you hear Furlan behind you shooting forward as well, which causes Kai to let out a high-pitched noise. You’re not sure whether that was a screech of excitement or one of terror, but you’re too preoccupied with your own issues to figure it out. 

Levi soars through the air, passing buildings at a nauseatingly high speed. Your legs are looped around his waist in a vice grip, and you can’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck, unused to the feeling of wind slashing against your face. 

“Holy fuck,” you curse under your breath, though the sound barely reaches your ears due to the wind deafening you.

You don’t remember this being so terrifying when Levi carried you with his ODM gear the first time, but then again, he was kidnapping you, so you had more pressing issues at hand. Not to mention you were blindfolded, of course.

“You alright?” Levi calls out after taking a sharp turn to the left, clearly not even needing to think his movements through.  

“Uhu,” you manage, though you know you don’t sound convincing at all. Daring to move away from his neck, you observe the buildings flashing by at high speed. Your stomach churns at the sight. You’ve never seen anything move this fast before in your entire life. Levi accelerates sharply, suddenly rising high above the buildings and using the stone pillars of the Underground to pull himself forward. Your gaze darts down to the ground below as you rise, and oh God you’re so high up whatthefuckisthisshi- 

“Stop looking down,” he orders.

You bury yourself in the crook of his neck again, but it’s not helping at all. Levi is not taking sharp turns anymore — he doesn’t need to, since he’s high above the city now, only using the pillars to propel himself forward — so with the rush of the flight slowly steadying, you become more and more aware of his physical closeness. The hot skin of his neck; his soft hair fluttering against your face; his muscles moving under your body, straining with every twist and turn as he soars through the air. It feels strangely intimate to cling to Levi’s body like this. You take a deep breath in hopes to calm down, but all this does is fill your lungs with his soapy scent. The pleasant smell is so uniquely him, and it’s not helping to calm that strange feeling in your stomach.

“I need to go down to the buildings again,” he warns. “Next high pillar is out of reach. So hold on tight, because there will be turns again. ”

This is the only warning you get before he plummets down at high speed. You bury your fingers into his skin, cursing under your breath as your internal organs turn to mush inside your body. Holyfuckinghell this cannot be healthy. He swiftly moves past buildings, and though it probably looks elegant from the outside, it sure as hell feels like you’re about to get decapitated any second from now. 

You start to recite every possible prayer known to mankind when Levi suddenly turns to glance at you. “Holy fuck, calm down. Just trust me.”

You blink, confusion momentarily halting your terror. “Hold on, did you hear my prayers?”

“No, but I sure as hell can feel your fucking death grip.”

You grumble a “sorry,” under your breath as you attempt to relax the claws that have become your fingers. But honestly, you’re not at all sorry. He should be sorry for putting you through this fucking mess.

He groans. “Just relax, for God’s sake.”

“Relax? We nearly crashed into those buildings,” you peep after he takes yet another sharp turn. 

“No we didn’t. I don’t crash into buildings.”

“Not yet,” you grumble, squinting to observe your surroundings while the rushing air is practically blinding you. 

Good. The less you see, the better.

“Not ever.” He glances back, his cheek almost grazing your forehead. “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely the fuck not.” Your voice is entirely muffled by the fabric of his shirt, face half-buried in his shoulder.

He makes a sound that almost sounds like a short laugh — though it’s hard to tell with the wind rushing past your ears. 

“Guess you’ll just have to.” 

You look up at him. 

There was something suspiciously… challenging about his tone. Like a hint of dangerous amusement that definitely should not have been there.

You almost yelp when he rounds a corner with so much force and speed that you almost graze a building.

“Levi-holy-shit-you-fucking-dickhead!” you squeak in his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” the fucker has the audacity to ask. You can’t actually see him smiling, but you sure as hell can hear his mocking smirk through every syllable of his words.

If only you could give him a poisonous glare. But you can’t, so you settle with an empty threat. “I’ll have my vengeance. You just wait.”

“Cute.” His voice is deep and mocking and you can hear that damn smile again. You’re this fucking close to strangling the bastard and making the both of you fatally crash into a building, but you know better. 

“Don’t underestimate my ability to hold a grudge, Levi.”

“I’m shaking already.”

You’re thoroughly brainstorming for the meanest ways to get retribution, when Levi suddenly slows down. He launches his anchor into an opposite building, but he does so without releasing the previous one, causing you both to float mid-air. As you stay suspended between two buildings, you look down, noticing there’s a warehouse a few meters below your feet. The building isn’t high, but it covers a large surface.

“That’s the storage building we have to rob?” you ask.

He nods, then slowly descends without releasing his anchors. His feet land so silently and gracefully on the roof of the warehouse that you can’t help but be thoroughly impressed. 

Not that you’re going to admit that out loud, of course. The asshole made you suffer too much for that.

“You okay?” Levi asks quietly, sounding more entertained than worried.

“Sure,” you grumble under your breath before slipping off his back, all too happy to be on steady ground again. 

A few moments later, Furlan arrives. You watch him, admiring the way he flies with incredible skill, though his movements don’t seem to be quite as quick and confident as Levi’s. He hovers above you in the same way Levi did earlier, and lowers down next to you, landing nearly as silently as Levi did. The moment he’s on the ground, Kai gets off his back with a shuddering breath, readjusting his shirt. 

Looks like the boy has been suffering too. Though, Furlan didn’t go as fast as Levi, so at least he was spared from that. 

“Had a good flight?” Furlan asks, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly as he observes you and Levi.

“Excellent,” you seethe through gritted teeth. 

You glare at Levi, who hasn’t kept his eyes off of you. He’s watching you with badly-hidden arrogant amusement, flicking his tongue over his canine as he seems to fight back a smile. 

You squint your eyes, enraged by his mocking expression, but even more enraged by the fact he looks stupidly hot while doing so. This is beyond infuriating. 

“You survived,” Kai notes breathlessly as he approaches you, clearly oblivious to the fact you seem to be the center of entertainment for the two traitors in front of you. “Bit intense, eh?” 

“Tell me about it,” you grumble.

It looks like Kai is fighting back a laugh as he watches your grumpy expression.

Great. A third traitor.

“What do we do now?” the boy asks with a hushed voice as he observes his surroundings.

“We need to go to one of the windows on the roof,” Furlan replies in a whisper. “Also, there are guards right beneath us, so we have to stay quiet.”

“There.” Levi points at a large window a bit further down the roof. “That window is ideal.”

The four of you approach the window quietly and crouch down around it. Luckily, the angle of the roof beneath your feet isn’t steep at all. It’s nearly flat.

Levi crooks a lazy index finger at you. “Backpack.”

You slide the bag off and hand it to him. 

He opens it and takes out two pairs of gloves, which he gives to you and Kai.

“You’re not touching those toxic bottles with bare hands,” he says sternly. “Each bottle should be tightly sealed, but you never know. And take off these gloves immediately when you get out of there and everything is in the bags.”

He proceeds to take two dark capes out of the bag, handing one to Furlan. He puts the dark cape on and slides its large hood over his hair, before he throws his head back to look up. “Yeah, that’s about the same shit-brown color as the earth above us.”

You frown, entirely puzzled by his words. “Why are you two wearing those cloaks? I thought Kai and I were going to do the stealing?”

“Oh, you are.”

“You two are going down,” Furlan elaborates, “while we are staying up here. But we’ll be leaning over this window to give you two instructions, so we can’t be too visible to the guards inside. Gotta blend in with what’s above us,” he says, pointing at the dark stone looming high above your heads.

You give him a quizzical look. “Instructions?”

“Yes. Look inside.”

Though the window is dirty and the building isn’t well-lit inside, you can clearly make out rows of shelves, all filled with goods. The storage building is divided into many aisles, and several guards are lazily marching around, surveying the area and moving between the racks. Most of the shelves are fully stored with crates, and even from this distance, you can make out that many of the open boxes contain bottles, weapons, or stacks of suspicious-looking powders and pills. 

“You two will sneak down there while Levi and I stay here,” Furlan explains in a quiet whisper. “Even though you might hear their steps coming if they approach, you’ll still need us to tell you where the guards are exactly. That’s why there are two of you. One looks for the products and fills the bags, the other keeps looking up at us so we can communicate where the guards are. We have a view of the whole building from up here, after all.”

“So we need some sort of signs,” you conclude.

Furlan nods. He proceeds to show you the few basic hand signs he and Levi will use to communicate as much as possible: how many guards are approaching, from which direction, how many seconds you have to get out of there, and so on. You and Kai decide that you’ll be the one looking through the racks, while he will be the one communicating with Levi and Furlan. 

Adrenaline rushes under your skin as the four of you quietly start to discuss dangerous possible scenarios, such as guards coming from two directions. 

Needless to say, the whole mission is quite a risk.

“You’ll have to be lucky,” Levi admits, “and hope you’ll find the things you’re looking for fast. You both got your weapons, right?”

Kai nods and slips out two pocket knives, their blades reflecting the city light.

“Me too,” you confirm, moving the fabric of your coat to show the throwable knives stuck on your thigh. “I can do far range too, as you can see.”

Levi’s eyes linger on your knives for a second, before looking back to you again. “Good.”

“How do we get out, though?” you ask, keeping your voice low. “Or what happens if we get caught and they have guns? Judging by the number of guards, I don’t think that whoever owns this storage building is messing around.”

“It’s why we’re here,” Furlan explains. “We don’t have ODM gear for nothing. When you’re done, or if shit goes south, we immediately fly down and get you both the hell out of there.”

Your shoulders relax a little. At least Levi and Furlan got your back. 

“Won’t it be difficult to pick us up from between those shelves?” Kai asks, frowning. 

You stare through the window. He’s right: the shelves are tight, and you highly doubt they’re steady enough to be pierced through by ODM anchors.

“Don’t worry, we’ll manage,” Levi simply replies. You meet his eyes, darkened by his hood hanging low on his features. He doesn’t look worried, he just looks determined. 

Furlan nods in agreement. “If you guys need us to get you out of there, give us a sign immediately. We won’t hesitate.”

“How’re we gonna get down, though?” Kai whispers.

The corners of Furlan's lips curl up. “Answer is in your backpack.”

Kai’s brows rise. He takes his backpack off, opening it with eager fingers. His eyebrows shoot even further up his hairline as he stares at the contents.

“What the hell is that?” 

“A glass cutter,” Levi explains. “It’s the most silent way to break a window.”

Furlan reaches for the backpack and takes out a strange-looking instrument. It’s a rather long metal bar attached to a circular plate. It’s only when Furlan pulls at the bar that you realize its length can be extended even further. Once he deems it long enough, he quietly mutters, “That should make a big enough hole for us to pass through.” 

You look at Levi and Furlan, dumbfounded. “Where did you two even get that?”

Levi gives you a bored shrug. “Black market.”

“And it’s a glass cutter?” You lean forward, trying to get a better look at the strange device in Furlan’s hands. “How does it even work?”

“This is a suction,” Furlan explains quietly as he taps on the circular plate. He proceeds to lean over the window and place the suction at the center of it, pressing it down until it firmly attaches to the glass.

 “Suction stays in place,” he continues, “while the metal bar attached to it can rotate around.” 

He looks up at you and Kai as he starts rotating the bar in demonstration. It’s only when you hear a very soft scratching sound that you realize there’s a sharp blade sticking out at end of the bar. It’s grazing the glass ever so slightly as it’s being rotated around.

“… You’re going to cut the glass in a perfect circular shape,” you mutter in realization as you try to understand what you’re seeing.

“Exactly,” Furlan confirms, lips curled up in a smile. “If I push this blade hard on the glass while rotating it around, it’ll cut into it, in a circular shape.”

Kai squints and leans closer, inspecting the blade with a confused look. “You gonna cut the window with that lil’ blade? How? And isn’t it gonna make noise?”

Furlan grins. “That’s why we have this.” He takes out a plastic bottle containing clear fluid. “Cutting-fluid.”

“Oh geez,” you mutter. “Now what on earth is that?”

“Liquid makes the glass easy to break,” Furlan explains as he shows you the bottle. “So we’ll pour it on the exact place we want to make the cut.” He stops and looks at Kai, a smile reaching his lips. “You’re right, Kai, the blade isn’t enough to completely pierce through the glass, but it makes it fragile enough so we can break it easily.”  

You frown. “Break it? How?” 

Mischief dances in Furlan’s eyes. “You’ll see.” 

“What do you mean ‘you’ll see’ ? Don’t we—“ you halt when you notice that Levi isn’t crouched down beside you anymore. You were so enthralled by Furlan’s strange device that you didn’t even notice Levi got up and tied a long thick rope around the chimney behind you. When he walks back, he crouches down next to you again and gives Furlan a meaningful stare.

“Ready?” the blond asks, handing Levi the bottle of cutting-fluid.

Levi nods. “I’ll take it from here. Be as obnoxious as possible.”

You give Levi a bewildered look, but he doesn’t even spare you a glance. You’re just about to ask what in God’s name he’s talking about, when Furlan gets to his feet and gives you all a quick salute. Your mouth opens, but he just turns around before you can say anything.

He jumps off the building. 

You almost undergo cardiac arrest.

Then you quickly remember he’s wearing ODM gear. The sound of ODM gas reaches your ears — though it’s much more silent than when you flew earlier. Despite not being able to see Furlan, you can tell he’s distancing himself away from the building. 

“Kai. Hand me the hammer,” Levi orders in a quiet voice. “It’s in your bag.”

Without asking questions, the boy rumbles through his bag until he finds a small hammer, which he hands to Levi with an expression of deep curiosity.

Unlike you — who probably looks confused and bewildered as hell — Kai simply looks excited. It’s like he trusts Levi and Furlan so much that he isn’t even bothered by the fact he has no clue what’s going on. He’s just looking forward to whatever they got coming.

So you decide to keep your mouth shut and simply observe. 

Levi opens the bottle and pours thick cutting-fluid on the window in a circular shape. Holding the little hammer in his other hand, he stares through the window, observing the guards walking around in silence.

It looks like he’s waiting for something, though you have no clue what.

That’s when you hear a shockingly loud roar, making you freeze in place. 

Your breath halts and your eyes widen in disbelief as you realize the furious scream is Furlan’s. It sounds like he’s near the entrance of the warehouse.

You and Kai share a look of utter shock. Levi, on the other hand, doesn’t keep his eyes away from the guards below.

The moment Furlan starts to roar a long and absurdly loud “FUUUUCK!”, Levi pushes the blade of the glass cutter down on the window, rotating it around like a compass. He uses enough force to turn his knuckles white. The cut makes a scraping noise — though not as loud as you’d expect — but with Furlan’s vocal cords terrorizing the entire Underground, it can barely be heard. Levi only passes the blade once, and though the glass isn’t entirely pierced through, it doesn’t look like it needs much more to break.

“YOU.

CHEATING. 

FUCKING.

TRAITOR.”  

Your jaw drops. You’ve never heard Furlan curse or raise his voice like this before. At every word he screams out, he slams what must be a wooden plank against the wall of the building. He sounds completely deranged, using so much force that you can barely hear the way Levi starts to quietly hit the glass with his small hammer. He does it with calculated force, hitting right where the glass cutter weakened the window, and doing so on the exact beat of Furlan’s slams. He carefully follows the circular shape, and with every light hit, the glass cracks through. 

Taking in Furlan’s theatrics and Levi’s actions, it becomes abundantly clear what they’re doing. You fight back a laugh, simultaneously amused and amazed by the efficacy of their plan.

“GETTING. SOME. OTHER. DICK. RIGHT. IN MY. OWN. DAMN. FUCKING. BED.”

Mild amusement appears on Levi’s lips as he keeps hitting the glass, perfectly on beat with Furlan’s slams. It takes approximately two seconds for the guards to start cursing and running towards Furlan, barking loud orders to “stop that goddamn fucking lunatic.”

“YOU DAMN. CHEATER. I FUCKING. TOLD Y-"  

Furlan’s furious roars come to a sudden halt and are replaced by the distinct sound of struggling. 

You don’t even need to look down to know the guards seized him.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Furlan cries out.

Levi purses his lips to contain his amusement, but he doesn’t keep his eyes away from his task. Kai, on the other hand, has a much harder time containing a laugh. His hand is pressed tightly against his mouth to stop himself from bursting into laughter.

Unfortunately, Kai is not the only one fighting for his life. You’re in an equally tough predicament.

You look down at the glass and notice it’s entirely cracked in a circular form. Levi reaches for the suction and uses it to carefully pull the large circular piece of glass off. He puts it aside, and you stare in amazement at the large hole in the window; no falling shards, no loud cracks — just a clean, (relatively) quiet, and efficient cut. Furlan was right earlier: the hole is big enough for all of you to pass through.

“We don’t care who the HELL fucked your bitch, get out of here before I knock every damn tooth out of that ugly ass mouth of yours!” a guard roars at the top of his lungs, while clearly fighting to restrain Furlan.

“ONLY I CAN CALL HER A BI-” 

The sound of a loud punch follows, which is immediately met with a pained groan from Furlan. Levi pinches the bridge of his nose while Kai almost snorts out loud.

“You fucking imbecile, want me to break all your damn bones?!”

“The guards are all out,” Levi whispers as he takes the long rope next to him and throws it through the hole in the window. ”Quick, both of you. Get down before they come back.” 

Kai doesn’t hesitate. He grabs his backpack and reaches for the rope.

“Alright alright, don’t hurt me, I’ll leave!” you hear Furlan plead while Kai descends the rope at rapid speed.

“I don’t want to see your pathetic lunatic ass here ever again. Go cry about your damn whore somewhere else.”

With this beautiful speech gracing your ears, you quickly descend as well, feeling the rope burn through your gloves and your pants. The moment your feet land on the ground, Levi quickly hauls the rope up. 

Only a few seconds later, footsteps and low murmurs echo through the entire storage room. The sounds make your body tense immediately. The guards are back.

You glance up at the window. Levi is crouched and unmoving, hovering over the glass and staring back at you. Though the guards could probably see him if they’d look up and stare at the window, his dark cloak makes him unnoticeable. Judging by their conversations about Furlan, they’re probably too distracted and off-focus to start noticing a figure looming far above their heads anyway.

The men are all near the entrance, discussing “that crazy lunatic fuck,” and barking out laughs. 

You exchange a knowing glance with Kai. He gives you an encouraging nod, before shifting his focus to Levi as planned.

You swallow. There are so many boxes surrounding you, and considering this doesn’t even compare to the total amount of boxes in the building, it’s clear this is going to be a tricky mission.

You stare at the two shelves tightly flanking you and Kai.

Welp. Time to get to work.

Chapter Text

The air of the storage building is buzzing with the guard’s low murmurs and shuffling footsteps, causing your senses to heighten as adrenaline prickles under your skin. The shelves surrounding you are entirely filled with crates and boxes, some of them unfortunately too high to reach. The good thing, at least, is that they keep you well hidden from the guards surveying the warehouse. 

You glance at Kai, who is keeping an eye on Levi, who in turn looks like an indiscernible shadow looming over your heads. His face is obscured by his dark hood as he watches the building from above like a hawk. With the slight consolation of his watchful presence, you start slinking through the aisle, scanning the wooden shelves on your right first. 

One paralyzing poison, two types of tranquilizers, syringes, and darts. That’s all you need. 

Unfortunately, that’s a lot easier said than done. God knows how many racks you’ll have to look through. You’ll undoubtedly break a damn sweat finding all the items, especially since you need to hurry the hell up. To make matter worse, the warehouse isn’t well lit, which forces you to squint and hover closely past each box to decipher the labels scribbled on them. 

Quickly enough, you decide to switch tactics. Many of the boxes aren’t closed, so one thorough swoop of your eyes is enough to tell you that the aisle is mostly filled with pocket knives, daggers, firearms, and all types of bullets. You hesitate, but after a few seconds, you give Kai and Levi a sign, communicating that it’s time to move on to the next aisle. The guards will soon start their patrol again, after all. There’s no time to waste.

Levi looks around the warehouse for a brief moment before indicating that the coast is clear. With a moment of eye contact and a quick nod, you and Kai decide to go to the aisle on your right. Despite Levi’s confirmation of safety, you can’t help but peep over the corner before hopping onto the next column. Kai follows with careful agility, barely making any noise beside you. 

You start going through the many boxes stacked on the shelves, but tense when you hear more footsteps wandering around. A few guards are still conversing near the entrance, chuckling and murmuring incomprehensible words, but most of them seem to have gone back to patrolling. Without meaning to, you automatically focus on their footsteps to locate them, before quickly remembering that the whole point of this teamwork is to share the tasks. You’re not alone. Levi, Kai, and soon Furlan have your back, and they’ll warn you if there’s any danger. The realization is a welcoming relief. Teamwork really is a lot nicer than solo missions.

Tuning out those nerve-wracking noises, you slink through the tight aisle and scan through all the boxes.

But you’re only left with disappointment.

None of the materials you need are here either, damn it. With slight frustration creasing your brows, you give Kai and Levi a shake of your head. Levi nods and eyes the surroundings, and after a brief moment, he signs for you to go to the left. 

… Which means someone is already walking through the pathway separating you from the right aisle. Adrenaline simmers beneath your skin at the thought. The fact you can’t see any of the guards walking around, while knowing they’re creeping around you from all sides, is damn nerve-wracking. 

Swallowing the thoughts away, you continue your search, quickly learning to tune out everything around you to fully focus on your task. After a few more aisles, you finally catch sight of what you’ve been looking for: boxes filled with flacons, bottles, and strange chemical glassware.

Finally. This must be the area filled with toxins and whatnot.

While Kai keeps his eyes on Levi, you look through the shelves, more carefully this time. Sweat trickles down your back as you try to decipher the long names scribbled on each box. Eszopiclone, Chlordiazepoxide, Dexchlorpheniramine, Tetrodontoxin, Aconitine, Flunitrazepam, Flurazepam, Strychnine; for the love of everything holy which fucking monster came up with these words? The fact the three names on your list are the same kind of unpronounceable gibberish makes your task a damn nightmare. Each second that ticks by prickles your skin uncomfortably. Kai is waiting, Levi is probably casting you impatient glances, footsteps surround you everywhere, and your palms are getting sweaty. This is awful. You need to get this over with as soon as possible.

As you near the end of the small aisle, you start to feel frustrated.

That is, until your eyes land on a familiar name. 

You squint, taking a better look.

Is that—?

Oh thank God. Your shoulders relax in relief. In front of you lies a crate filled with glass flacons, each containing the paralyzing poison you need. It’s a clear substance, looking terrifyingly similar to water, except that the skull and crossbones symbol plastered on the glass surfaces indicate it’s anything but. A heavenly chorus sings in your ears as you reach for one of the bottles, but you freeze midway when you suddenly notice Kai beside you. 

His brows are creased in worry, causing mild dread to creep up your spine.

“We need to go,” he mouths without making a sound.

… Goddammit.

You hesitate for a fraction of a second but quickly grab a bottle, careful not to let it cling against the other glass bottles inside the crate, and also careful not to let it slip through your gloved hands. Kai throws you an urgent look, so with a quick nod, you follow him as he turns around. He moves to the end of the aisle and rounds the corner, but instead of continuing, he stops, holding his back against the side of the shelf. There’s just enough room for you to join, so you do. Meeting your eyes, he points his index finger at the ground, indicating you two need to stay right there. 

An uneasy feeling settles under your skin as you look around. You’re uncomfortably exposed, standing in one of the long pathways that separate the tight racks into long columns. It feels like a guard could pop around a corner any second from now, but when you look up at Levi, you’re relieved to see he gives you an encouraging nod, indicating you’re safe.

For now, at least.

Surely enough, footsteps approach. Light, but steady steps that quicken your pulse with each beat. Two guards are walking through the long pathway behind you, parallel to the pathway you’re currently standing in. They’re slowly passing the aisles, row after row. One is coming from the left, the other from the right. They’re going to cross each other. You grip the glass bottle tightly and hold your breath as you listen to their quiet steps behind you. There’s something particularly nerve-wracking about the fact they’re coming from different directions, but as long as they don’t suddenly change trajectory, you should be fine. You’re out of their line of sight, so as long as you stay hidden, you won’t get caught.

Kai quietly taps your shoulder. When you look at him, you freeze. 

His eyes are wide open. He looks panicked. You immediately glance at Levi to see what’s going on.

Fuck.

Another guard is about to enter the long pathway you’re standing in. You only have several seconds to hide.

But you can’t move. The guards behind you are extremely close. If you move out of your hiding spot, they will see you as they pass by.

With a thrumming heart, you instinctively slip out one of your knives, holding the handle in a tight grip. You take a discrete look around the corner, praying, begging for the two guards to pass faster. You only have a few seconds left at best. 

One passes by.

Then the other.

You immediately grab Kai and pull him back between the shelves. 

The air is deadly still.

Body frozen, you try to listen for the guard Levi warned you about, but you don’t hear him.

You look up at Levi, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are fixed on something, probably the guard in question, who may or may not have seen you. Kai is like a statue next to you, frozen in place.

Levi’s gaze travels to you. He nods, signing that you’re safe. A wave of relief instantly crashes over you, releasing all the tightness in your shoulders. You quickly touch Kai’s arm and point at Levi, and when the boy’s eyes flick upwards, his shoulders slump in relief too. He shuts his eyes and presses a hand against his chest.

Which, yes, relatable, you’re also this fucking close to getting a heart attack. This mission isn’t healthy in the slightest, but you’ll spare your complaints for later.

Trying to ignore your racing heart, you slink towards the box containing the paralyzing poisons and take two more bottles, as per Levi’s instructions. You carefully put the poisons in your bag, moving extremely slowly to make sure you don’t bump the glass bottles against each other. The guards are still uncomfortably close, so any noise would be fatal.

After quietly closing your bag, you peep at the list. Two more tranquilizers, syringes, and darts. 

You can do that. No problem. It’ll be fine. Everything’s okay.

Making quick work of going from shelf to shelf, your eyes rapidly get used to scanning small, near-unreadable labels. When you cast Levi a quick glance, you notice Furlan has joined his side again. He’s hunched over the window in his dark cape. Chances are he had to take his ODM gear off when distracting the guards, but going by the shadows of his cape, it’s clear he’s all equipped again. 

Good. At least now, if you and Kai are in a crisis again, you have two saviors who can get you out of here quickly. 

And ‘saviors’ isn’t an exaggeration. Levi and Furlan are goddamn heroes. Guardian angels. Ultimate protectors who pull you from the claws of danger every two seconds. Their life-saving instructions just don’t stop. Go to the left. Stop. Wait. Go. Guards are approaching from each side, don’t move. Go quickly to the right. Hide behind the corner. With every warning you receive, you become more and more aware that none of this could’ve ever worked without their input. Once again, you’re filled with a deep appreciation for their tactical planning. 

It doesn’t take long before you find the two tranquilizers you need, filling you with relief. 

You’re in the midst of taking the last bottle of the sedating drugs, when you finally make a mistake. A dreaded fucking mistake. The bottle hits another with a soft cling.

You freeze.

Kai freezes. 

Footsteps stop.

Silence.

“Did you hear that?” a deep voice grunts.

Your eyes widen. You shoot Kai an alarmed look, which he returns with equal urgency. Your gaze flicks to Levi, who signs at you to get the fuck out of there. Tugging at Kai’s sleeve, you slowly move through the aisle. Step by step. Excruciatingly slow. You want to go faster, but you can’t. The guards heard you and they’re alarmed. Any noise will betray your presence.

Footsteps approach with quiet carefulness, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine. They’re going in your direction, but you can’t move any faster, not if you don’t want to be heard.

You reach the end of the aisle just in time before the guards appear, and you have no choice but to turn around the corner and wait. Kai is tense beside you, probably wishing you’d distance yourself more, but knowing as much as you do that the only option now is to stay hidden and keep still.

The footsteps stop, unnervingly close.

Another beat of silence.

“Weird. Thought I heard somethin’.”

“Y’know, someone saw a rat two days ago. Place might be infested.”

“Shit. Did anyone tell Drakan? There’s some dangerous stuff lying around, wouldn’t want rats knocking shit over.” 

“Yeah, I told ‘em. He ordered Kenyo to put rat poison around. Looks like the issue ain’t fixed yet.”

The other one grunts in agreement, but he doesn’t move.

What follows is dreadful, uncertain quietness. 

You press your eyes shut, praying, begging, pleading. Kai is a statue next to you, likely reciting every holy prayer he’s ever heard in his life.

But whatever deity he’s praying to isn’t in a generous mood today.

A quiet step in your direction. Then another.

Your eyes flash to Kai. You can tell from his expression he’s thinking the same thing: they’re inspecting the area. If you don’t move fast, they’ll see you. If you move fast, they’ll hear you.

You clench your jaw. With determination and adrenaline rushing through your veins, you turn the corner, leading you into the aisle right next to the one the guards are walking through. You start to slink through it, praying you can get out in time, but freeze when you hear quiet steps moving in the same direction.

You shoot Levi a glance, and his confirmation makes your lungs constrict.

The first guard is moving towards the left end of the aisle, while the second guard is moving towards the right end.

They’re going to appear from either side. You’re trapped. There’s nowhere to go.

Fuck.

You could sign Levi and Furlan to come to the rescue, but you’re in a particularly tight aisle, so getting you and Kai out of here at the same time without knocking the shelves and inevitably intoxicating you with whatever gasses are in those glass bottles seems near-impossible. Also, you still need the syringes and darts, and if you get out now, there’s no way you’ll be able to rob this place again soon. They’ll be prepared for the next attack.

Just as Kai touches your shoulder — likely to tell you it’s time to back out — you notice a hiding space right under the shelf, between large boxes. Without a proper plan in mind, you sign for him to hide. At least he’ll be safe.

He frowns, then mouths soundlessly, “What about you?”

“Go,” you urge.

Despite his concerned expression, he does as he’s told. Crawling on hands and knees, he quickly squeezes between the tight gap in absolute silence. He isn’t noticeable, but he isn’t invisible either. And you are going to get caught for sure. If only you could lead the guards away…

Overtaken by a sudden idea, you blindly reach for one of the open crates and take the first thing you can grab — a loose bullet — before launching it in the air. It lands with a soft clang on the ground, a few aisles away.

The footsteps halt abruptly.

The guards don’t say anything, probably signing to each other in silence.

One of the guards, extremely quiet now, moves towards the source of the sound, walking away.

The other… doesn’t. 

Sweat trickles down your back. You shoot Levi and Furlan a glance, who communicate that the guard is going to appear on your left. They look ready to intervene. You turn and head to the opposite side, taking big strides and—  

“HEY!”

Fuck.

You don’t think. You run. 

In a matter of seconds, everything explodes into chaos. 

Shouts and thundering footsteps echo from everywhere. ODM gear zips somewhere behind you, but the sound is immediately overtaken by deafening gunshots. The sound makes you flinch so hard that you almost trip over your feet. Icy panic grips your lungs as you flash your gaze back, but you don’t see Furlan or Levi.

Your steps falter, body filling with cold dread. You can only stare, pulse thundering in hysterics, hopelessly looking for a sign of Levi or Furlan in the air, but you don’t see them, and the gunshots and shouts are like a nightmarish haze around you.

Three guards suddenly appear behind you, snapping you out of your panicked haze. Their brows furrow in vicious determination as they notice you, and with a gasp, you force your legs forward while their loud voices fill your ears, yelling at you to stop. Their footsteps thunder closely behind you as you turn corners and swiftly move from aisle to aisle as quickly as you can. You can’t tell whether you’re shaking them off or not. There’s too much echo. Too many footsteps coming from everywhere. Too many yells and gunshots and shouts. 

Hope hits you when the loud, chilling noises suddenly mix with the metallic sound of ODM gear. 

It’s rising up somewhere behind you. Away from you.

“One of ‘em got out!” someone yells, filling you with a brief surge of relief. 

But the shots don’t stop.

“Keep shooting at the window! Don’t let them in!” someone barks. 

Oh no. No no no. 

Raw dread floods your brain as you keep racing through the aisles. Levi or Furlan can’t possibly get you if those bastards keep shooting the window. Your hope cracks, then shatters as glass explodes somewhere behind you, the window undoubtedly entirely destroyed. You curse under your breath and take a quick turn to the right, feeling your heart thumping painfully against your ribs. A yelp almost tears out of your throat when a shot lands right next to you.

“Don’t try shooting her you FUCKING idiot!” a guard behind you roars. “There’s DEADLY poisons around here!”

This is barely a relief because the footsteps are echoing from everywhere. Not just behind you. But to your right, left, and in front of you. It won’t take long before they corner you, and the realization fills you with raw fear.

It happens sooner than you thought.

You run into an aisle but halt when two men appear on the opposite side. Heart thundering in your ribs, you briskly turn around, only to find three other guards behind you.

You’re trapped.

They approach slowly, mean smiles matching the sharp knives and threatening guns gleaming in their hands. 

“Well well, look what we got here,” one of them singsongs cruelly.

Deafening gunshots still echo through the entire warehouse, overcoming the sound of your racing pulse. You quickly scan the shelves, hoping to find a weapon of some sort, but everything is useless: bullets, ropes, gun holders, knife holders… there’s nothing that can save you.

You draw out a knife and instinctively take a step back, but this only brings you closer to the men behind you.

“Grab her before those bastards come swooping down again!” a deep voice grunts behind you. 

They don’t hesitate. They approach in quick, threatening strides, drowning you in icy panic. There are too many of them. You can’t possibly defend yourself.

The metallic sound appears so fast you barely register it. 

You only have time to see the men’s eyes widen before you hear something brutally slamming into the guards behind you. A rush of wind swoops past you, but everything goes too fast to understand what’s happening. You turn around, watching in disbelief as the two guards behind you are sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.

There’s another loud crash, making you whip around again. 

With a heaving chest, your eyes fall on Levi. He’s standing between you and the three guards. Every one of them is knocked against the ground, looking only half-conscious. Levi’s eyes flick from the guard to you, and before you manage to say anything, he closes the distance in quick strides, brows furrowed in worry.

“You okay?” he whispers. His eyes scan your face as cold fingers feather your cheek. The touch disappears so quickly that you think you might've just imagined it.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you manage.

His eyes snap to something behind you. Before you can turn around, his arm wraps around your waist and he shoots his anchor up, lifting you in the air in a rapid rush. You hear a gunshot beneath you. Holy fuck. You missed that bullet by an inch. The near-death experience hits you in a rush of adrenaline as you’re being hauled into the air. Yells, gunshots, and a rush of air fill your ears, and all you can do is wrap your arms around Levi’s shoulders and press your eyes shut, fingers digging into his skin. Your insides twist as you sear through the air at a nauseating speed, and as chaos erupts all around you, you can only hold onto the only anchor you have: Levi.

The whole world flips before you crash on a hard surface. No— before Levi crashes on a hard surface, landing on his back. The force of the fall rolls you both over, shooting pangs of pain through your back as a brick surface digs into your skin. Fingers clutched in Levi’s shirt, you grit your teeth until you both roll to a stop.

Eyes pressed shut, you lay still, heaving, too afraid to find out whether you or Levi are still alive.

The world comes back to you in waves.

The first thing you feel is your hammering heartbeat mixed with Levi’s heartbeat.

The second thing you feel is a type of heat by your face, something soft lingering on your nose and cheeks, and something grazing your lips ever so slightly.

The third thing you feel is hot, humid breath brushing against your lips.

The fourth thing you feel is the HARD FUCKING HIT OF REALIZATION.

Your eyes snap open, gaze falling directly into Levi’s. His eyes are already wide open, only a hairbreadth away. 

You gasp and snap backward, watching Levi’s frozen body beneath you as he stares at you with startled eyes. You can only stare back, flustered and mortified, still feeling the touch of his lips against yours, his hot exhales filling your lungs, your nose brushing his, your hand currently leaning on his chest, under which his heart is pounding against your fingers. Oh Go—

You flinch when a bullet sears through the air, snapping you back to reality. You look up, only now noticing Furlan and Kai. They’re standing next to each other, barely preoccupied with the shots echoing in the warehouse. Instead, their attentions are fully on you and Levi. 

Kai’s brows are raised in disbelief, while Furlan is wearing a little smirk of amusement. 

You swallow thickly, becoming increasingly aware of Levi’s panting body between your legs as you’re straddling him.

“THEY’RE ON THE ROOF! GET THEM!”

This snaps Levi back to reality because he immediately grabs you by the hips and pushes you off of him. You almost lose your balance but manage to get on your feet quickly, flinching when another bullet shoots by.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” Levi grits before turning his back to you. “Come on.”

You quickly jump on his back, and Kai next to you does the same with Furlan.

Levi wastes no time. Without a warning, he launches forward at a dizzying speed. Your heart lurches when he twists and turns to avoid the bullets aimed at you. You can’t tell up from down anymore. Your entire world spins. You grit your teeth, deadly afraid you’ll lose your grip and fall, and equally afraid you’ll get shot.

“Hold onto me tight,” he orders.

You do as told, praying you’re not choking him to death.

Quickly, the gunshots fade into background noise. After a certain distance, they only become a memory, and it’s only then that Levi slows down, allowing you to loosen your grip on him. He starts taking turns in lazy swoops, helping your heart to calm down a little. 

But true relief only comes once you hear Furlan’s ODM gear closing up behind you. Thank fuck. The relief comes out as a deep exhale. Everyone got in danger today, and finally knowing the four of you got out unscathed loosens the uncomfortable tightness that has been gripping your muscles during the entire mission. Sighing, you close your eyes, allowing yourself for once to enjoy the wind rushing across your skin as you fly through the city. 

Levi’s slower speed allows Furlan to catch up. As he appears next to you, Levi gives him and Kai an evaluating look. “You two alright?”

Kai looks a little green, but nonetheless, he peeps out a small, “Yeah.”

Furlan wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. “We’re good, but things got close there.”

“I know,” Levi says, voice deep. “Let's speed up. They might send someone who can use ODM gear. We better distance ourselves quick.”

They both pick up the pace, but luckily not excruciatingly fast, and it doesn’t take long before the four of you arrive at the hideout. Once you feel the ground steadying underneath you, you slip off Levi’s back with a deep breath of relief. Judging by Kai’s blissful exhale next to you, he’s just as happy to be safe and sound. You can’t help but laugh a little when you take in his expression: a mix of relief, post-adrenaline-thill, and terrible nausea from the ride. Kai narrows his eyes at you, feigning irritation, but you don’t miss the amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“Another day of surviving a deadly robbery,” Furlan sighs as the four of you go inside, sounding particularly relieved it’s all over.

You and Kai make exhausted but content noises of agreement, and in an eye-blink, you’re both sinking into the couch with dramatic exhales.

“We did good.” Kai holds his hand up, and with a chuckle, you accept the high-five. 

Levi approaches your two slumping figures and reaches the bags lying by your feet. “What did you two manage to grab?” 

He takes a look inside the bags, and Furlan joins him, peeping the contents with Levi.

You sigh. “We got all the chemicals, but I didn’t get the darts and the syringes.”

“Actually,” Kai interjects with a growing smirk, “while I was hiding, I saw a whole box of darts on the shelf right in front of me. Grabbed it right before Furlan took me.”

Your eyes widen as they snap to him. “Wait. Really?”

“Really,” he beams proudly.

You let out an exhilarated laugh, which makes Kai smile even harder. When your gaze flicks to Levi, you falter a little. His eyes are intent on you as you're smiling. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but you wish you could ignore the strange way your heart stutters at the sight.

“So we’re only missing the syringes?” Furlan asks.

You nod. “Looks like it.”

“That’s fine,” he reassures with a lazy wave of his hand. “Syringes can be found in other places. We got the most important stuff.”

Levi puts the bags down. “I’ll send Caleb and Elias to steal it somewhere else.”

”Nice.” You let out a sigh of relief. “We got everything we need to make the crossbows and the knives, so we can start making some good progress quick.” 

Kai hums and turns to you, his expression melting into something soft. “Thanks for sacrificing yourself for me out there. You a real one.”

“Don’t mention it,” you reassure with a gentle smile. “The ones who really saved us are those two.” You nod towards Furlan and Levi, before forcing yourself to focus on your personal savior only. “Thanks for getting me out of there, Levi.”

You keep your voice casual, but all you can think about is what proceeded after he got you out of there. How his hot, heaving breaths felt against your mouth. How his body felt under your hips.

He nods, and you think he’s going to look away, but his gaze briefly flicks to your lips. Heat rushes up your body the instant his eyes rise again. He’s thinking about it too.

Feeling two pairs of eyes watching the interaction, you break the eye contact and glance at Furlan. His gaze is simmering with something, and it only takes you a second to realize he’s holding back a smile. A smirk. 

For fuck’s sake.

Kai, on the other hand, is looking from you, to Levi, to you, tense in his silence.

You clear your throat. “Well… I think we better get going. Noah, Paul, and Isabel are probably waiting.” Shifting your attention to Kai, you add, “They went looking for the stuff we’ll need for the weapons, and they said they’d be at Henk’s tavern when they’re finished.”

“Alrighty. Let’s go then,” Kai quips, standing up from the couch.

As you get up and follow him to the door, you cast Levi a last glance. He isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at the bags, at Furlan, at anything but you, and it almost looks like he’s avoiding your gaze. Not that you’re going to stay to confirm this, because the tension from earlier is still simmering uncomfortably beneath your skin, making that exit door look particularly appealing.

Before you have a chance to leave, Furlan calls your name.

“When can we come by to help?” he asks. 

You turn around to look at him and begrudgingly take in the small smirk of amusement he hasn’t managed to repress. Or isn’t trying to repress.

“Tomorrow afternoon is good. Should give me some time to prepare a little.”

He nods, and with steps you make sure don’t look too hasty, you follow Kai outside. 

The moment the door shuts, you feel Kai’s gleaming eyes on you, but he keeps quiet until you’re both down the stairway, at a safe distance from the door.

“Well, well. Wasn’t that juicy.” Amusement and mischievousness underline his every word.

“Okay, let’s not talk about that,” you grumble.

He snickers. “Afraid that shuttin’ up about this to the others won’t be easy. It’s not often I get to see Levi like this.”

“It was an accident,” you remind him, but before he has time to answer, your head snaps to him in realization. “Wait. What do you mean by that? ‘Not often getting to see Levi like this’?”

He shrugs, smirking a little. “Y’know… getting flustered and all. Or getting close to someone.”

Flustered. Levi was flustered. And he’s never flustered. 

The thought stirs something inside you, but you don’t let it show. 

What you do show, however, is your curiosity. You want to keep your mouth shut, you really do, but you’re way too nosy for this shit.

 “Getting close to someone?” you repeat, giving him a puzzled look. “Are you trying to say he doesn’t, you know, get intimate with people?” 

You immediately regret sounding like a prude child from Mitras, but Kai doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“I mean, sometimes,” he admits with a pensive tone, which immediately awakens a strange and unwelcome pang of jealousy inside you that really shouldn’t be there. “But it’s rare, honestly. We almost never see it happen, even when we all go out together to get shitfaced. Not that he ever gets shitfaced really, but my point is, he doesn’t do much of that stuff. But maybe he’s just hidin' it.”

“Huh…” You frown a little as you take in his words. Somewhere, it would be strange if someone like Levi, who doesn’t only have all the looks but also the power and reputation, wouldn’t use these advantages to regularly indulge in fun escapades. He’s bound to get his fair share of attention, after all. Of course, some might be too afraid or intimidated to approach him, but you’re certain many would love the thrill. 

But at the same time, what Kai is saying does fit the image you have of him. 

“I think it’s because he doesn’t like getting too close to people,” Kai continues. He hesitates, biting his lip in contemplation. “I feel like it’s kinda the same reason he’s only true friends with Furlan, and we’ll never get to know him like Furlan does, y’know? Like… he cares about us, he's not afraid to show that sometimes, but it’s hard to really get to him, if you get what I mean. It’s like there’s a limit to how much he lets people in. He doesn’t trust people quick and he keeps most at a distance, so maybe that's why meaningless fun isn't too much of his thing.”

Noticing your attentive expression, Kai quickly adds, “Don’t get me wrong, though. Man’s gotta let loose sometimes like the rest of us, but we almost never see it happen and he’s picky as hell, from what I’ve heard.”

“I see,” you hum, feigning carelessness and fighting for your damn life to hide the chaos swirling inside your head. Picturing Levi kissing someone or sleeping with someone fills you with a pang of annoying jealousy that is entirely unwelcome and unjustified. On the other hand, knowing he’s really picky and hard to get is slightly relieving. But amidst that relief lies disappointment, which makes no damn sense, and you refuse to analyze those emotions any further. The only emotion you’re somewhat willing to accept right now is the tinge of flattered smugness that arises when you remember you’ve managed the impossible: Levi got flustered because of you, and he’s never flustered, apparently. The thought thrills you way more than it should.

But most of all, among this whole swirl of emotions, there’s annoyance, because why the fuck are you feeling those things in the first place? What Levi does in his spare time is none of your business. You shouldn’t feel jealous, or disappointed, or relieved. You shouldn’t be preoccupied with Levi’s personal life.

Unfortunately, simply knowing that doesn’t diminish your curiosity.

Before you can stop it, that reckless mouth of yours flops out another question. “Has he ever been with someone?” 

Kai shrugs. “Maybe. Dunno. Not that I’ve heard of.” He turns to look at you, a lopsided smirk growing on his face. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Ugh, Kai, please,” you groan with a laugh.

This earns you an even bigger grin. Pure mischief flames to life in his eyes.

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Stop it. It’s nothing like that. I’m just curious.”

“If you say so,” he teases, looking as amused as ever. He holds up his hands in a defensive pose. “Hey, I’m not judgin’. Half the group has a secret crush on Levi anyway. You should hear ‘em talking about him.”

“I don’t—“ But when you notice how much Kai is enjoying this, you give up. The more you protest, the more he’ll be entertained, so you’ll spare yourself the pain.

Still grinning, Kai turns his attention to the tavern you’re walking towards. Like most buildings, the walls are covered with old, cracking paint that is peeling off the surface. A few pieces of shattered glass are strewn near the entrance, but the windows reveal a rather cozy interior. 

Kai points at the wooden sign held up by two rusty hinges, on which ‘Henk's tavern’ is painted in bold letters. “This is the place.” He exhales a long breath, one that exudes both exhaustion and bliss. “I need something to drink after the shit we went through.”

“Same,” you groan as you follow him to the door.

When you enter the establishment, a wave of relaxed chatter and laughter engulfs you, and your lungs fill with the thick aroma of tobacco, food, and beer. The room is entirely made of dark hardwood and floorboards, and while some of the planks are broken and rotten, this does nothing to dim the cozy atmosphere of the room. Small, warm lanterns hang across the oak walls, and a few other lanterns are situated behind the bar, illuminating the liquor bottles to give them a colorful glow.

You take a good look around and scan the tables, but you don’t recognize any faces. “I don’t see them. Weird, I thought they’d be here by now.”

Kai shrugs. “Those lil’ shits take their time sometimes. Let’s hang around until they’re here.”

He walks to the bar and greets Henk, the owner of the tavern, and after introducing you and making a little small talk, you both buy the cheapest beer on the menu and pick a table large enough for the others to join afterward. You sink in your seat as you take a good look around. Everyone is eating, drinking, or playing cards, and although the crowd looks slightly more roguish than at Gary’s bar, the atmosphere is rather pleasant.

“You guys always hang around here, right?” you ask as you take a sip of cold beer.

Kai nods. “Yeah, a lot. It’s because of Paul. We used to hang on the street a lot but Paul always wants an excuse to drink, so now we’re always here.”

This makes you smile. “Ah. Paul, of course.”

“Yeah, and now Henk often gives us free drinks,” he nods at the bearded man behind the bar. “In turn, the band’s gotta play when the place needs a lil’ boost. Same for Jojo’s bar, which is our second standard hangout place.”

You try to imagine Noah, Caleb, and Jan playing here, most likely with Paul and Kai cheering them on, and you can’t help but smile. 

“You never joined the band?” you ask.

Kai shakes his head as he takes a sip of beer. “Nah. Don’t got the talent.”

“Neither does Paul apparently, but I’ve heard the man is trying to join.”

Kai snorts, but then his sneer strains as he starts to cringe. “You should hear ‘em sing at home. Living with Paul is one of the best things that’s happened to me, but shit, the bastard’s gonna burst my ears one day. I told him to give it up and stop practicing, but he won’t listen.”

You fight back a laugh. “Planning on moving out?” 

His smile softens as he stares into his glass of beer. “Nah. His personality makes up for it.”

A few seconds of comfortable silence pass, and as you look at Kai, you realize you barely know anything about the boy. Maybe it's time to change that. 

“When did you join the gang?”

“Hmm...” He squints a little in concentration as he thinks your question through. “Around… eight months ago? Somethin’ like that. I really needed cash to take care of my mama, my sisters, and myself. Started getting involved with gangs and shit, but it wasn’t a good situation. One day, I pickpocketed Levi, but it was an accident. Can you believe it?” he throws his hands in the air, clearly still not over the fact he’d ever done that. “I just didn’t realize it was him — you know, the Levi — until it was too late. He caught me, and I thought I was done for, but he just let me go without saying a word. Maybe he saw how hungry I was, or how scared I was, I don’t know. I’d heard stories of him, and like… a lotta men are real scared of him around town, so I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

He leans against his palm, staring down into his glass of beer. “Not sure why, but I followed him. I just… wanted to know why he didn’t do anything while he was strong enough to. Also, I was kinda desperate. I knew he had a gang, and I knew they were good, and my involvement with other groups started to get messy and dangerous, so I guess deep down I hoped he could be my key out of that. It was dumb, cause like, the only thing I knew is that he let me go instead of beating my ass, but you know…”

You shake your head. “It’s not dumb. It’s not like there are many options, you just gotta do what you need to survive, even if you need to pull at loose threads and take new risks.”  

Kai’s eyes flick up to you. He nods, his expression relaxing a little. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Well, I got lucky. Obviously, he noticed me pretty quickly, and this time, he was pissed. Nearly shat my pants, but I was also desperate and determined, so I laid all my cards down and asked to help him, join him, work for him, whatever. He told me to fuck off at first,” Kai smiles a little at that, “but I was determined to show what I was capable of. I think he saw how much I needed him, so eventually, he took me in.”

You sip on your drink as you mull his words over. “You know, it's funny because somewhere, that’s not much different from my situation. I robbed him, then asked to join too.”

Kai laughs. “True that. Looks like we have something in common.”

“Difference is, you wanted to join because you suspected he was a decent person. I joined because I thought he was completely heartless, and it was my only chance to escape. Imagine my surprise when I slowly found out what type of person he really is.”

Kai shrugs, looking gently amused. “Can’t blame you for thinking that. You two were enemies, and even if you weren’t, he just looks insanely closed off from the outside, I’m sure we were all scared at first.” He smiles, looking like he wants to laugh. “Not gonna lie, most of us still almost pee our pants around him sometimes, but we all look up to him so the thrill is worth it.”

You snort, shaking your head a little.

He takes a sip of beer before continuing. ”But under all that, I think he secretly likes to be around people.” He pauses, hesitating. “Well.. around the right people,” he corrects. “People he trusts. If he doesn’t like you, of course, you’re dead fucking meat. But I guess you already know that.” 

When you give him a raised brow, he fights a smile and clears his throat, waving his words off. “Point is, Levi’s got more love in him than it looks, but you’ve already figured that out. Though to be fair, like I said earlier, I feel like he still limits that stuff. And of course, he’s still intimidating as shit.”

“You mean that he cares but he still keeps everyone at arm’s length, right?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Not that that’s a problem or anything. He leads us, keeps the group together, and he wants us to survive in this shitty world. That’s already more than I could ask of anyone.”

You nod and hum in agreement.

“And maybe I wish he’d talk a bit about himself sometimes cause I admire him and I’m also a curious lil’ shit,” he continues, “but being someone like him… you can’t open yourself like that. Comes with its own dangers. It’s normal we don’t know anything about his past. Or, well…” he hesitates. “It’s normal he hasn’t told us anything about it.”

You halt, your attention peaking at his last words. Narrowing your eyes, you give him a suspicious look. “Are you talking about stories circling around or something?” 

“… Maybe.” 

Your inner Levi-obsessed-stalker awakens with vengeance. You lean forward, eyeing him like a predator on the hunt. “Tell me.”

Kai purses his lips.

“Come on,” you coo lightheartedly. “I’m part of the gang now, I should know more than the randos gossiping about Levi’s life.”

You hadn’t thought you’d be manipulating your partner-in-crime for some information about Levi today, but investigations require moral sacrifices sometimes.

Kai groans. “I promised  Noah I’d stop gossiping so much.”

You stifle a smile. “Alright. Tell you what. I’ll ask one question and that’s it, but you have to answer.”

He bites his lips, contemplating. “Alright. Shoot.”

“Any idea why he’s so skilled?”

Kai groans. He throws his hand in the air, releasing a sigh. “Okay, fuck it. Might as well tell you the whole thing.”

You can barely hold back a laugh as he leans forward, lowering his voice. 

“There are rumors he used to know Kenny The Ripper when he was young.”

You stare at him, puzzled, until your eyes widen in realization. “Wait,” you hiss. “You mean the serial killer who massacred more than a hundred MP’s? The urban legend?”

Kai wiggles his brows. “Yup.”

“No way,” you breathe.

“Yes way.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you hold up a hand. “What do you mean ‘he used to know him’? Were they like… friends?”

Kai shrugs. “Not sure. Some people say Kenny The Ripper was his dad, others say he was like a guardian or something. I mean, from what I’ve heard, they weren’t together all the time. Kenny would travel to the upside, then come back for visits and stuff.”

You blink, trying to process this new information. “I just…. I….”

“I know.”

You bite your cheek, voice turning into a whisper. “You’re saying Levi was raised by a cold-blooded mass murderer?” 

“I mean, those are just rumors. Could all be lies. Both Levi and Kenny The Ripper are popular, so I wouldn’t be too surprised if people made that shit up for attention. But if it’s real, it would explain a lot, no? Heard many around town were already scared of Levi when he was a kid, so he must’ve been taught by someone strong.”

The memory of Levi beating up an adult man, a bloodied knife clasped in his hands, flashes through your mind. You shiver a little at the memory, remembering the jarring contrast between his youth and yours. You were protected, loved, and concealed from the brutalities of the world. He was not only living amidst those brutalities, but he was very much part of them.

Gary did tell you Levi has always had quite a reputation, but you’ve never pried any further. You've refrained from bringing Levi up to Gary again, afraid he’ll get suspicious about your involvement with him. 

“So what was he like as a kid?” you ask.

“You know, the kind you don’t wanna get in trouble with. I heard he had no issue beatin’ up adults and swinging his knife around. He got involved with gangs and stuff too, but he was mostly solo. More of a lone-wolf, I’ve heard.”

Your brows furrow as you try to imagine it all. Levi, raised in the slums by a serial killer. He grew up becoming feared and admired, but is it because he had to learn everything the hard way since birth? Did he ever experience love? A family? Did he have a support system? A shoulder to lean on? Or was he thrown to the wolves as a young child? Was Kenny the only one he had? A man who, aside from having the reputation of being a ruthless maniac, apparently wasn’t around all that much. The thought causes something heavy to settle in your chest.

You trace your fingers over your glass. “Is he still around? Kenny?”

Kai shakes his head. “Apparently he hasn’t been spotted for many many years. Rumour has it he left when Levi was a kid, but no clue what he meant to him.”

The slight ache tightens a bit more. You’re not sure if that abandonment was better for him or worse. You suppose it depends on what kind of person Kenny was, and just as importantly, what he meant to Levi.

That man could’ve hardly been a softie, and the thought worries you a little.  

Kai’s eyes are curious on you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Just… trying to imagine how it must be like to be raised by someone like Kenny The Ripper. Can’t really imagine, honestly."

He huffs. “Tell me about it. I hear every MP still shits their pants whenever they hear his name.”

Well damn. This whole thing would certainly explain why Levi can be so fucking scary sometimes.

“Has any of you ever asked Levi about this?” 

Kai’s eyes widen. “Fuck no. Levi doesn’t do personal or emotional talk. I’m sure he wouldn’t like us snoopin’ around about his life.”

Welp. You suddenly feel a little guilty for your stalking-missions. Maybe you need to lay it down a little.

Kai’s gaze flicks to the door as it opens behind you, and when a smile crawls across his face, you turn to see Noah, Paul, Jan, Caleb, and Isabel entering the establishment. You almost snort when you notice the rusty cart Paul is struggling to pull behind him. The contents are covered with a white sheet, but it’s filled to the brim, likely containing everything you put on the list: wooden planks, steel plates, hand files, sandpaper, screws, crossbow strings, and so on. Judging by Paul’s pained expression, the cart is quite heavy, and you can’t help but fight a smile.

“Well hello there!” Noah greets, grinning at your amused expression as he walks over. “We found everything.”

You purse your lips as you notice a drop of sweat beaming on Paul’s forehead. “I can see that.”

Kai snorts as he gives Paul a once-over. “Y’all made the poor guy carry everything?”

Paul groans and places the rusty cart next to the table, plopping down next to Kai. “I lost a bet.”

As he explained the details of the bet he oh so tragically lost, which resulted in him carrying the materials during the whole trip, Caleb and Jan walk to the bar to order drinks for everyone. The rest joins you at the table, plopping down in the seats. 

Paul finishes his dramatic summary just as Caleb and Jan join the table again with drinks.

Eyeing the cart at your feet, you ask, “Was it difficult to find everything?” 

“Nah,” Noah reassures with a lazy shrug. “We found it all pretty quickly. The reason we’re late is that we thought we had enough time to do a little band practice.” He reaches out to pat Isabel’s shoulder. “Had to show this one the beauty of music.”

Isabel lights up at that, eyes flicking to you with a beaming smile. “I’m joining the band!”

Your brows shoot up. “You are?”

Noah nods proudly, although there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “We tested Isabel’s potential, and I think she’ll rock the triangle.”

Isabel’s brows furrow into a little scowl, which is followed by a snort from Paul.

“But I like the guitar,” she protests with a pout.

Paul laughs. “Girlie, you nearly snapped every single one of those strings.”

Isabel glares at him. “They almost snapped because of your screeching vocal cords. We’re lucky the windows were already broken.”

Paul’s smug smile immediately falls, and judging by the faces around you, everyone is trying not to laugh. Even Caleb gives Isabel an approving smirk, encouraging her with a quiet, “Get ‘em, Isa.”

Paul glares at him. “Traitor.”

Noah turns to you. “Isabel’s right. Paul said he’d practiced his singing and we gave him another chance. Stark reminder to never do that again.” 

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Paul protests with a pout.

Jan shoots him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but it was.”

“Paul, you nearly gave me a fucking aneurism,” Caleb grunts. 

Noah chuckles. “Forgive me buddy, but you’ll have to stick to mental support for now.” 

“Ugh.” Paul chugs down half his beer and turns to you and Kai. “Enough about my inspirational talent. How was the mission?”

“Oh, it was definitely… eventful.” Kai hums, a tiny grin twitching the side of his mouth.

You secretly give him a gentle kick under the table.

Paul’s eyes flick from you, to Kai, to you, to Kai again. “Okay. There’s definitely something going on here. Confess.”

You open your mouth, ready to explain before Kai can inflict any fatal damage, but he beats you to it.

His words come out at the speed of light.

“She straddled Levi during the mission, was lying on top of him, and they made out in front of Furlan and I.” 

Your jaw drops.

“WHAT?!” everyone at the table snaps in sync. Paul spits his drink out on Noah, who barely seems to notice due to the shock. Everyone’s jaw is on the fucking floor. Noah, Paul, Caleb, Jan, Isabel; they’re all staring at you like you grew a second head.

You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief. “Holy shit, Kai.”

“You and Levi kissed? ” Noah snaps.

“EXPLAIN!” Paul cries out at the top of his lungs. The theatrical sound is so loud it bounces off the walls in a brief echo. In the corner of your eye, you notice Henk flashing him an irritated glare.  

“We didn’t… oh my god,” you groan. You’re not sure whether you should laugh at cry. You glare at Kai, who is clearly savoring every single part of this. “Kai I’m going to smack you.”

“Oh please, I wouldn’t want to make Levi jealous,” he teases, grinning brightly. 

You roll your eyes and give him a playful shove, and he giggles in return.

“You two made out. Unbelievable,” Caleb mumbles under his breath.

“No, no, stop right there,” you protest, holding up a hand to halt their thoughts. “It was nothing like that. Levi hauled me out of the warehouse with his ODM gear, and due to the force, I ended up rolling on top of him when we landed on the roof. That’s it. That’s literally it. I was accidentally on top of him, kind of close to his face, but it was an accident, alright? We didn’t kiss.”

“Gotta admit that may be a lil’ more accurate,” Kai confesses.

Everybody simultaneously relaxes, shoulders slumping and lungs exhaling.

Paul sighs. “Disappointing.”

“Dissap—? You know what, I’m not even gonna ask. Anyway,” you clear your throat. “Aside from that little mishap, everything went fine. Well, not really, but we managed to get everything. Well... almost everything.”

“What do you mean?” Isabels asks, frowning a little. “What happened? Are Big bro and Furlan okay?”

You give her a reassuring nod. “Everyone’s alright. But we did get caught.”

“Furlan and Levi were there to save our asses, as always,” Kai adds.

Isabel’s eyes widen. “As always?” she repeats. “So big bro is you guy’s savior too?”

“Oh you bet,” Paul interjects as he brings his bottle to his lips. “Levi has saved our butts more times than I can count.”  

Isabel’s mouth parts a little. “Really? Thought you boys were really strong.”

Caleb snorts a little at that. “We are, but don’t get it twisted, we may be skilled individually but this group isn't much without Levi.”

Noah nods. “Yeah, don't underestimate him, there’s a reason he’s our leader. And it’s not for nothing all of us are making a better living than before. More dangerous missions, but better-planned thanks to Furlan mostly, and much better-executed thanks to Levi. He’s taught us a lot.” 

“Exactly,” Paul agrees. “And for the most dangerous and difficult side missions, Levi is always there cause he knows he can handle it. He’s better than all of us combined, so he always handles the fucked up shit for us.” 

“Woah…” Isabel breathes, her eyes widening even more. “….He’s… really the strongest.” The words come out as a whisper of wonderment, and the glimmer filling her eyes is one of pure awe.

Looking at her, you can’t help but feel that awe too. It’s somewhat intoxicating, hearing such wonderment about someone. Especially considering that that someone is the man who has made your heart race and your skin tingle more times than you’d like to admit. 

Kai grins at Isabel. “Oh, he is. You haven’t seen nothin’ yet, Isabel. The way he flies with ODM gear is freaking insane! No one does it like him.”

She presses her hands together in excitement. “I’ve seen that! And he said he’d teach me!”

“Ask him to teach you how to wield a knife while you’re at it too,” Caleb adds. “He can be real scary with the knife. He’s known for it all around town. Look,” He slips a knife out of his trousers and flips it around in his hand, holding it backward and showing his position to Isabel. “He often holds his knives like this, backward. Then he moves it around like this—” He makes a slow sweep of the knife in demonstration, "—which brings a lot of force to his movements. I’ve seen some thugs around trying to mimic it, but I doubt they’ve got the technique right. But Levi could show you, maybe.”

Paul jags a thumb at Caleb. “This man’s the king of knives, so you can trust him on this one.”

Isabel stares in absolute awe as Caleb hands her his knife. She tries to mimic his hold, her tongue poking out in concentration. After two tries, she looks up at him again. “So flying and swinging the knife is what big bro’s best at?” 

“Oh girlie, trust me, he’s good at everything,” Paul says with a big grin. “Levi beats us in almost every field. Except maybe lock-picking — Noah wins that one. And maybe running, since I might be the fastest. But aside from that, I don’t think any of us could ever reach his level, no matter how hard we try. Did you know he can beat a whole gang up on his own? On his own. No weapons.”

Isabel’s jaw drops, and all the boys seem to feed off of her amazement, because they continue chatting about Levi’s achievements with boastful pride. The conversation becomes an animated mix of stories and tales of times Levi saved the day with his fighting technique, his quick tactical thinking skills, his instinct, or his scary agility. Even Jan, who normally is rather quiet, becomes all chatty, his eyes now glimmering with excitement in contrast to his usual shy and reserved look.