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That boy’s an open oozing wound. Course, Mike knows Levi ain’t a boy but he’s got a boy’s stature and sulk. Comes from the underground, he’s gotta be used to losing people, or maybe Mike’s gone cold.
“Smells like death,” he tells Erwin in the stables. Not like the dead. Like death. Like grief. Like a brewing infection of anger and denial.
“He’ll adjust,” Erwin promises but Mike can’t step within twenty feet of that midget without having his nostrils assaulted. When they three share Erwin’s office on quieter evenings, Mike draws his breath through his mouth and avoids conversing. The latter is usual.
They got tea in common, Mike learns one late night without dreamless sleep. Levi’s in the midst of boiling a kettle when Mike joins. They nod their acknowledgements and sit at the same table with their separate teacups and a pot between them.
“Valerian,” Mike suggests, offering his personal tin. He waves his hand at Levi’s weak chamomile.
Levi hums. “We didn’t have access to it. Is it good?”
“It’ll knock ya down,” Mike says, drinks his cup like a debtor avoiding a taxman. Like a survivor avoiding nightmares. He fetches an empty tin and pours some dry tea in, then slides it across the table, his fingers brushing Levi’s forearm on the retreat. “Herbalist makes it potent so I ain’t pissin’ whole night long. Go easy.”
There’s no thanks but Mike ain’t waiting for one. It’ll be hell or high water that Levi’ll give it.
“You shared. I’m impressed,” Erwin says a week later at evening mess. “I haven’t found him sleeping in my office these last few nights. I have you to thank.”
Mike chews his bread, paced, and chokes it down past the knot in his throat. Levi ain’t got no business in Erwin’s office, let alone late enough at night to be sleeping. What the fuck? But Erwin don’t say his words without already knowing someone’s reaction, so Mike lets the expected question roll of his dry tongue.
“You gon’ let him around you like that already?”
The scab across Erwin’s neck ain’t even fallen off yet, and the man’s got enough nerve to look calculating.
“He needs a friend, Mike. He has no one else.”
“Awfully self-sacrificing ‘f ya,” he mumbles on his way out.
Levi stops stinking up the place with his emotions soon enough, and Mike’s got half a mind to ask Erwin why the runt follows him everywhere. Keeps it to himself. No point causing Erwin no grief when he don’t need to. Soon enough, too, Levi starts sidling closer to Mike.
“I was looking for you,” Levi’ll say when he finds Mike late at night. If it’s in the mess, he’ll boil the kettle to share. If it’s in an office, he’ll take down a book. Don’t matter where, really, because all Levi does is sit there quietly.
Mike ain’t got need for a babysitter or to babysit, and when he barks it out one night after Levi’s habit’s good and formed, that runt has the nerve to roll his eyes.
“Erwin told me you’d be hard to get close to,” Levi replies like it don’t bother him none. But it bothers Mike. There ain’t no bluff in Levi or he’d scent it out.
Lets it fester for a day and a half too long and lashes out at Erwin for putting Levi up to it. Erwin sits behind his desk, fingers steepled under his chin, and don’t blink until Mike’s done. Don’t respond, either, just thanks Mike and dismisses him like he’s been waiting for it.