[She’s still strained. But it’s got less to do with shock and more the sheer gravity of pain—which, as she breathes, unevenly but surely, starts to ebb. Still so, so much… but awareness falls, in pieces, back into place.]

[She’s here. Eren is here. Ba— That, that thing, it’s gone now. Eren is here. Aubrey is alive. Eren is here, Eren is talking to her, Eren—]

[Eren?]

[God, she’s so tired. This is the death-hallucination, right? Eren Jaeger, talking to her quietly, calmly? “You’ll be alright”? Ever so slightly, Aubrey’s eyes narrow, as they have so many times before, at him. But she can’t deny that steady thrum of his heartbeat, under her still-desperately-clinging fingers.]

[He… laughs?]

H—[nope nope nope ow ow no still hurts, still hurts like a bitch, never mind whatever bitter sound might’ve resembled a laugh. Aubrey’s hand on his wrist tightens, loosens, clenches again as that fresh wave of hell punishes her hubris—but even that, gradually, returns to baseline.]

[She really did try, though.]