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“Thing 1 is compromised," the man panted as Levi tried and failed to remember the guy’s name. “He needs a med evac. The sniper broke our radios, and—” He broke off with a pained hiss. “Fuck. I could really use some painkillers right about now, sir. He injured me in the struggle. I don’t know where he’s gone. Are you there?”
The vulnerability in his tone gave Levi pause. He silently unlocked the laundry room door and padded down the hallway, pausing to slip on his boots. And still he waited.
The man on the porch made another pained sound. “Sir, what’s the plan? I’m… I’m losing a lot of blood.”
He sounded scared. A sniper sent to kill him wouldn’t be scared, right? He wouldn’t be asking Ben for orders.
Levi opened the door a crack and peeked out into the dark. An exhausted man was leaning against the porch railing, shivering and bleeding, dressed like he hadn’t expected to be in the snow anytime soon. There was a bullet wound in his right thigh, and he was, indeed, losing a hell of a lot of blood. Levi’s vision greyed out as he watched it pool on the porch, dark and sticky.
It’s okay, it’s okay, Levi told himself desperately. It sounded a lot like Ben. Not the way Ben would have said it to himself, a child trying to be numb to the horrors around him, but the Ben that Levi knew, gruff and steady. After a few more repetitions of Ben’s soothing voice in Levi’s head, the grey receded from Levi’s eyes.
The man on the porch straightened. He was sweating, and he looked ready to collapse. As far as Levi could tell, he wasn’t carrying a weapon.
“Hey,” the man croaked. “What’s the plan, sir?”
“I’m not…” Levi cleared his throat. Either this guy was a good actor, or Levi was really dealing with Thing 2. He looked around the dark woods, then opened the door. “Get in.”
The man limped inside, then fell against the wall, clutching his wounded leg. “Fuck. Goddamn fucker got me good. Where’s the radio? Wait, shit, painkillers first.”
“Cool,” Levi croaked. He closed and locked the front door, then turned toward the bathroom, swaying. Even when he wasn’t looking at the blood dripping onto the floorboards, he could still smell it, thick and oily.
It’s okay, he reminded himself in Ben’s gruff voice. It’s okay, you’re okay.
He reached the bathroom and took the first aid kit from the cabinet, forcing his hands to steady enough to undo the zipper.
The man’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Uh, I’m guessing you’re not Bravo? Where is he?”
Levi looked up at the mirror. The man was still propped against the wall, holding his bleeding leg. His head was tipped back, and his eyes were closed. He looked like he wanted to collapse right there in the front hall. In short, he didn’t look like he wanted to kill Levi anytime soon. Levi’s hackles lowered even further, and he turned back to the first aid kit splayed open in the sink. “He’ll be back soon. We don’t have heavy-duty painkillers, sorry. Do you think opioids are a good idea, or should you, y’know, stay clearheaded?”
No answer. There was a short flurry of footsteps, and Levi tensed. He looked up at the mirror just in time to watch the man run for the bathroom, his leg less injured than Levi thought. He lunged. Levi panicked, whipping the first aid kit at him. It bounced harmlessly off the man’s sweaty face, sending a shower of supplies all over the bathroom.
Levi tried to force his way past him, cursing himself. Ben had fucking said not to let anybody in. What the hell had he been thinking? The annoyance melted rapidly into fear as the man grabbed him from behind and twisted him into a chokehold.
Levi gurgled. This wasn’t the tame chokehold Ben had put him in so many times during training. This was the real thing. Levi couldn’t suck in a breath. He clawed at the hands around his throat, his vision smearing with the combination of oxygen loss and the blood he was getting over Levi as he struggled. Levi even got to watch his own face turn purple in the bathroom mirror.
It’s okay, Levi told himself desperately. Ben’s familiar tones washed over him, filling him with… well, not calm. But not the blind panic from before. Ben had done this to him so many times. He never pushed on his windpipe like this, but everything else was the same. Levi was suddenly grateful that Ben had made them go through it so many times. If they’d only done it once, Levi would be dead meat. But no, Ben had made Levi escape this hold so many times that Levi could let instinct take over, just like Ben promised.
Levi stopped grappling uselessly at the man’s arms and stomped on his boot as hard as he could. The man grunted. The grunt turned into a yell as Levi flung his head back into his nose. A sharp crack rang through the bathroom. The man staggered back, and Levi caught his nose spurting blood in the bathroom mirror. His stomach turned. He staggered into the hallway, dry-heaving at the blood the man had gotten all over him during the chokehold. It was on his neck, his face, even in his hair. Attempted murder was messy.
“Son of a bitch,” the man yelled as Levi reached the doorway. “Get back here!”
Levi laughed hysterically, fumbling at the lock. “Do people fucking fall for that? Sir, yes— Fuck!” Levi cut himself off as he heard the guy clatter down the hall toward him. He flung the door open and ran out into the dark, snowy forest, swearing again when the snow enveloped his sweatpants past his knees.
There was just enough light to see two trails in the snow. One of them was dotted with blood, presumably from the man trying to kill him. The other trail had to be Ben heading to the hut. Levi waded into Ben’s path, finding it slightly easier to run after Ben had already pushed some of the snow aside.
Levi looked over his shoulder to see the man slumping against the brightly lit doorway, his face a tight mask of pain. His gunshot wound might not be as debilitating as he claimed, but it was still a hole in his leg. It had to hurt. Levi wished it hurt more.
“Fuck this,” the man panted. Then he reached for something Levi hadn’t spotted until now: a sniper rifle leaning neatly against the side of the door. Levi had been so busy letting the man in, he hadn’t taken the time to look around.
Levi ran faster, hating snow with every fiber of his freezing being. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it!”
“Shut up,” the man snarled. He raised his rifle, his bloody hands shaking.
Levi walked deeper into the forest and stepped behind a tree.
The sniper yelled, frustrated. “Fuck! Come on, man!”
Levi bit back another absurd urge to giggle. Then he heard the distinct creak of the man walking down the stairs and into the snow, and any desire to laugh vanished. He ventured further into the dark woods, his heart hammering so loud he was scared the man would hear it.