Heh. Wrong again, Jaeger. [Now Aubrey sneers. Can’t help it, doesn’t try to help it; there’s a rush at his anger, the same sort of righteousness that spurred her through that second conversation—where she wanted to get under his skin. And she’s learned so much more since, but…]
There’s a lot I still don’t know about you—but you’re telling me an awful lot, just with that. [It’s a mockery, but not ingenuine. She’s tempted to step up to him, a little extra petulance—but she’s noticed that hand flexing, again, faster now. She’ll keep the distance.] I know we’re similar, and I don’t like it—that’s what I said in the first place.
[Any questions? Eren's own petulance rears up inside of him - not the childish sort, but something more unforgivable; the words of a man who's given up, who's lashing out at the world because his own selfish fantasies couldn't be fulfilled. Eren tries to hide this part of himself, but he's been pushed past that point now.]
Do you fear what you're capable of?
Do you lie awake at night, wondering whether you would have changed things even if you could?
Do your friends see what you've done? Are they horrified by you?
Can you forgive yourself, Aubrey? Do you even want to? Are you deserving of that?
Who are we talking about, Aubrey? Is it you, or me? They're one and the same. The only difference is power.
[He’s projecting. He’s practically said as much; that what he says is true might as well be a footnote. Is he so fucking lonely he’s willing to give himself away like this? He’s the pathetic one. He broke, and he’s lashing out, and she doesn’t have to listen to a goddamn word of it. She’s better than that, better than him.]
[At least she can admit it. At least she can look him in the eyes and say she knows exactly what he’s talking about. Does he think he’s saying anything new? There are no new wounds here—just words, words, useless worries, crammed through old ones like shears to the gut. The first stab is the worst, and she’s long past that now.]
[Aubrey is tired, and she is an idiot.]
[Maybe it doesn’t matter if the world is worth saving. Some individuals aren’t.]
[Her snarl has faded, replaced with something pitch. Cold. Dead. When she’d seen the body she dropped to her knees and stayed there, unable to cry, begging silently for numbness to eat her alive. She’s done plenty of the first, now. About time the rest showed up.]
[She steps up to Eren. Tilts her head, slightly, like she still needs to examine him.] You know what? [Her voice is empty as it’s ever been.] I don’t care.
[There is something in Eren; something very small, very old, lost to time, and grief, and darkness. Aubrey's eyes have gone cold, her voice colder. Eren's own voice, young and passionate, all fire, echoes in his head.
["Fight! You have to fight! If you win, you live! If you lose, you die! If you don't fight, you can't win! Fight! Fight!"
[They both may as well already be dead.]
Let that do you some service, then.
[Grief. Its familiar, hollow essence, blooming inside of him. Why is he thinking of that now?]
["It won't change anything," etc., etc.. But even he can't deny the truth when he's the one who's thrown it in her face.
[There are people from home arriving in this place now, and Aubrey knows too much. He needs to keep her close. Never mind the fact that disposing of her is also, potentially, an option. For whatever reason, it won't cross his mind.]
[A pause. God, that admission would’ve been rich just a few short moments ago. It’s strange to realize she genuinely doesn’t care either way, now.]
[Actually, there’s just a little leftover smugness. Because if she’s more afraid than him… maybe she hasn’t completely drowned yet. Stupid as that is to cling to, doesn’t change anything either way, all that.]
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Heh. Wrong again, Jaeger. [Now Aubrey sneers. Can’t help it, doesn’t try to help it; there’s a rush at his anger, the same sort of righteousness that spurred her through that second conversation—where she wanted to get under his skin. And she’s learned so much more since, but…]
There’s a lot I still don’t know about you—but you’re telling me an awful lot, just with that. [It’s a mockery, but not ingenuine. She’s tempted to step up to him, a little extra petulance—but she’s noticed that hand flexing, again, faster now. She’ll keep the distance.] I know we’re similar, and I don’t like it—that’s what I said in the first place.
[So what?] Any questions?
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Do you fear what you're capable of?
Do you lie awake at night, wondering whether you would have changed things even if you could?
Do your friends see what you've done? Are they horrified by you?
Can you forgive yourself, Aubrey? Do you even want to? Are you deserving of that?
Who are we talking about, Aubrey? Is it you, or me? They're one and the same. The only difference is power.
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[Eren Jaeger is an idiot.]
[He’s projecting. He’s practically said as much; that what he says is true might as well be a footnote. Is he so fucking lonely he’s willing to give himself away like this? He’s the pathetic one. He broke, and he’s lashing out, and she doesn’t have to listen to a goddamn word of it. She’s better than that, better than him.]
[At least she can admit it. At least she can look him in the eyes and say she knows exactly what he’s talking about. Does he think he’s saying anything new? There are no new wounds here—just words, words, useless worries, crammed through old ones like shears to the gut. The first stab is the worst, and she’s long past that now.]
[Aubrey is tired, and she is an idiot.]
[Maybe it doesn’t matter if the world is worth saving. Some individuals aren’t.]
[Her snarl has faded, replaced with something pitch. Cold. Dead. When she’d seen the body she dropped to her knees and stayed there, unable to cry, begging silently for numbness to eat her alive. She’s done plenty of the first, now. About time the rest showed up.]
[She steps up to Eren. Tilts her head, slightly, like she still needs to examine him.] You know what? [Her voice is empty as it’s ever been.] I don’t care.
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["Fight! You have to fight! If you win, you live! If you lose, you die! If you don't fight, you can't win! Fight! Fight!"
[They both may as well already be dead.]
Let that do you some service, then.
[Grief. Its familiar, hollow essence, blooming inside of him. Why is he thinking of that now?]
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[Who knew. The easiest way to find peace was to stop trying.]
Oh, I almost forgot. You asked what terrified me.
[She can’t bring herself to smile this time.] It’s this.
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[There’s obstinacy in her yet.]
It doesn’t.
[She’s lying.]
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[Too bad he has firsthand experience. Didn't he just tell her they're the same?]
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[What? Can’t still rib him?]
Ha. Guess I was right about you, too, after all.
You really are afraid.
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["It won't change anything," etc., etc.. But even he can't deny the truth when he's the one who's thrown it in her face.
[There are people from home arriving in this place now, and Aubrey knows too much. He needs to keep her close. Never mind the fact that disposing of her is also, potentially, an option. For whatever reason, it won't cross his mind.]
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[A pause. God, that admission would’ve been rich just a few short moments ago. It’s strange to realize she genuinely doesn’t care either way, now.]
[Actually, there’s just a little leftover smugness. Because if she’s more afraid than him… maybe she hasn’t completely drowned yet. Stupid as that is to cling to, doesn’t change anything either way, all that.]
Sounds like a you problem.
[Something to deal with later.]