spite || levi x reader

2 - 2

The doctors take Mike. You follow, refusing to leave his side. 

You regret it only because of how messy it is. There's so much blood that you feel like you're going to vomit from the scent alone. There's four of them, stitching and wrapping and shouting things at each other that you don't understand. 

Mike has long since passed out. You sit next to him, holding onto his hand. Your fingers drift across his wrist, keeping track of his pulse; his pulse is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

The doctors don't force you to leave. They let you sit with him as they focus on his legs. Someone brings in a blood bag and they hook it up to his arm, replenishing the blood that he's lost- quite a substantial amount. Mike is pale, but he's breathing, and both of his legs have been stitched up. Whether they're both salvageable, you have no idea.

Once there's nothing more to do, all of the doctors leave with the exception of one. You finally let go of Mike's hand and take a seat on the other side of the makeshift tent, leaving him to work by himself. The tent provides nice protection from watchful eyes- you definitely don't want to leave because you're sure you're going to get reprimanded by some of the higher ups for threatening civilians. Not that you regret it, of course. 

"You did quite well, given the situation," the doctor murmurs. He's currently rewrapping the injuries with more layers of fresh bandages. "He's going to be out of commission for a while, at least."

"Will he recover completely?" you ask, glancing at Mike. His breathing has evened out.

The doctor sighs. "The left leg, yes. I'm not sure if that right leg will fully heal. It may have to be amputated."

The idea makes you sick to your stomach. You swallow the bile building up in your throat. "Thank you for your help," you say genuinely, shooting him a smile. "I wasn't sure if he was going to make it."

"If he'd lost any more blood, he might not have," he agrees. You glance at the blood bag hanging from the metal rack that someone set up next to the makeshift hospital bed. "Any signs of head trauma?"

You shake your head. "Don't think so."

The doctor glances down at your legs. Your pants are dry with Mike's blood. "And you're uninjured?" he prompts.

You think of your ribs and hesitate. "I bruised a few ribs on our last expedition," you say tentatively. "I unwound my bandages to use for him. I feel fine now but-"

"Say no more," he says, holding up a hand. "I'll wrap them for you."

"Thank you," you reply gratefully.

You pull your shirt up, and the doctor starts unwinding his spool of bandages and holds them up to your ribs. You wince as he presses down on one of your bruises, testing how tender the skin is. Carefully, he wraps your ribs a few times over- not as extensively as they were wrapped the first time- and presses the bandages together. "That should do it," the doctor says.

The flap to the tent flies open, and you're surprised but relieved to see Levi. His eyes scan the tent and land on you, and his eyes fall to the doctor applying the wrapping. "What happened?" he demands, stepping into the tent. "What'd you do?"

"The blood's not mine," you dismiss quickly, lowering your shirt over your bandages. "It's not mine, Levi."

Levi storms over, and the doctor backs up. Levi's hands go to your shoulders, then cup your face with surprising gentleness. You've never seen him this worried. "Your ribs?" he murmurs.

You're trying not to get lost in his eyes. "Um," you stammer, "fine. I had to- I had to take them- the bandages- off to help Mike."

Finally, Levi turns to the bed that Mike is laying on. His hands drop from your face and it feels like you can finally breathe again. Just as Levi's turned to look at Mike, the tent flaps opens again and Erwin strolls in. He nods to you and you stumble to your feet, saluting him. "Is he stable?" Erwin asks, looking at the doctor that was helping you out.