PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

[thecoordinate]

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[thecoordinate]

Listen to me and don't question it.

You need bandages. You need a bed. You need somewhere clean.

Visualize it. That's where we're going.

[headhooligan]

[Eren’s lucky that she doesn’t have the energy to question it. He wants her to do what, now? Play pretend really, really hard? God, what is this day…]

[But Aubrey… shuts her eyes, and plays pretend, really, really hard.]

[It’s not a specific room she pictures, but a couple distinct visuals come to mind anyway. The first: a yellow-green living room, flowers lining the windowsills; no bed, but there’s a couch, and maybe some sleeping bags and a pillow fort set up around it. And… hm, no, that’s bittersweet now. Maybe more bitter. Moving on—

[The other: bigger bedroom, and an even bigger pillow fort. That memory’s sad in its own way, but less… complicated, somehow. Brighter. The sun streams in, someone’s humming softly, and life is good.

[Seems she hasn’t shut out the ache of nostalgia just yet.]

[It might not affect the result of whatever Eren’s doing much, and bandages have barely factored in. But it’s nice, for the moment, to remember.]

[thecoordinate]

[Eren closes his eyes. His hands are still tense, pressing his shirt firmly against the wound on Aubrey's abdomen; but is thoughts are of...

[Home. Shiganshina. His mother, cooking. Him, with a blanket around his shoulders, seated on the bench by the window, young and half-asleep. His father was a doctor; his bag sits on the table, waiting for him to return home. It's a safe place. An untouchable thing.

[Why...is he thinking of that now?

[The dark corridor walls collapse around them, leaving pitch black rubble in their place. Eren, now watching, witnesses it dissolve into steam like a rotting titan. The fog clears. They're in a room - a soldiers' barracks, but empty. In the center, where Aubrey now lies, still gripping Eren, there's a structure draped in blankets, a barracks-worth of pillows piled under the canopy. Aubrey is bleeding on them. Grisha's doctor's bag is at Eren's side.

[He takes a moment to check Aubrey's bleeding. It's slowed enough that he can take some of the pressure off - the bandages will do the rest. He opens Grisha's bag and removes a small bottle of antiseptic.]

I'm going to dress your wound now.

This will sting.

[And he pours a small dash of it on the wound.]

[headhooligan]

[Reap what you’ve asked, Eren. He’s lucky, again, that Aubrey isn’t privy to his own memories, even more fragile.]

[In fact, she keeps her eyes closed even as the scene shifts. Is that the dream? Is this? Does it matter? The more she dwells on it, the more she wants to go back, and that threatens to hurt more than the physical wound. It’ll spill if she’s not careful.]

[Fortunately the sound of the bag, followed promptly by Eren’s voice again, has Aubrey looking around again, bleary.] Wh… wha—? [And then a fresh sting.]

[She groans, this time; an objective upgrade from earlier, and she breathes through it, but still.] G-god… you weren’t… kidding....

[Self-consciousness starts to gnaw at her—for not letting go, of all things, never mind the wound. But… Aubrey doesn’t want to let go yet.]

[thecoordinate]

[There are no more words of comfort from Eren. At her pained hissing, he merely glances at her, then begins preparing the bandages again. But, to his credit, his usual outright cruelness seems to be about as present as his glimpse of kindness - not so at all.]

Sit up. You can.

[headhooligan]

[Alright. Fine. Aubrey’s hand drops, finally, though it’s with less enthusiasm than she’d normally muster. Her grip feels really cold, now.]

[She glares at him, somewhat, but obeys anyway. Like hell if he’s gonna catch her whining about something simple as that. But again, Aubrey tries too much too fast, and although she does haul herself up it sends another bolt through her abdomen, and on instinct she grabs at it. Which also hurts, so she lets go of that, too, and it’s…]

[Well. It’s embarrassing.]

[Her gaze travels down to nothing in particular, resting on the medicine bag as she tries to catch her breath again.] What… was that…?

[There’s a lot of things that could be about.]

[thecoordinate]

[When Aubrey rears up in pain, one of Eren’s hands, on instinct, comes to support her back. The other hovers over her hands, ready to move them if needed.

[It seems his protective streak hasn’t quite ended.

[He pulls his hands back after a moment, and answers dryly:]

Antiseptic. I already told you.

[Possible that’s not what she’s asking.]

you know how it is

[headhooligan]

[She doesn’t notice his hands until they’ve left. At his comment Aubrey manages an exhaled wheeze that kind of resembles a laugh. Which, surprise surprise, also hurts… good thing she doesn’t do that often.]

Genius. [There’s more of a sentence, before that, but it’s marginally safer to cut to the chase. Easier, really. She makes a nod at his hands.] That. [It’s a start.]

[thecoordinate]

[He briefly follows her gaze to his hands. They're as smooth and pristine as ever. The wound from earlier is long gone. All that remains is some dried blood.]

The transformation, you mean.

[He says it more like a statement than a question.]

[headhooligan]

[The connection does not fully register to Aubrey (transformation of what, the thing or…? Her eyes on his hands is more incidental than anything), but it’s not like she hasn’t noticed his ritual un/clenching. So she nods.]

[thecoordinate]

[As if on cue, Eren flexes his hand - clenching, unclenching, just like she's seen a million times now.]

Self-injury and intention trigger the transformation. What you saw was my Titan.

[He doesn't have the Founder's power here; no way to accomplish that without Zeke. Luckily, that didn't affect his ability to utilize the Attack and Warhammer Titans.]

[headhooligan]

[Self-injury.]

[Aubrey saw a lot, sees the blood dried on his hands (whose?), but that detail stands out like the red streaks down his eyes. Maybe they’ve faded by now. She hasn’t met his eyes since sitting up.]

Why. [That’s all, really.]

[thecoordinate]

[The streaks on his eyes are slightly duller than they were before, but still present, running deep grooves in his skin.]

I was saving your life.

[As if to punctuate this, he lifts her shirt just slightly - just enough to expose the wound - and then, he starts wrapping the bandages gently around her torso, hands careful and precise.]

You should be thanking me.

[headhooligan]

[A retort rises and dies in her throat.]

[His voice, as expected—not gentle. His hands, the wrapping—]

Why.

[More insistent. She doesn’t move.]

[thecoordinate]

[Silently, he wraps her wound. It takes several minutes to do it properly - pin the bandages in place, ensure they're wrapped tightly enough, adjusting here and there for comfort. He doesn't speak the entire time.

[Finally, he pulls his hands away, begins putting things back into Grisha's bag. He doesn't look at her.]

I don't know.

[headhooligan]

[It’s a long silence.]

[Aubrey wants to be somewhere else. The bandaging, adjusting, binds her here.]

[She doesn’t respond. Just breathing. Eren’s. Hers.]

[“I don’t know.”

[What a joke.]

Does that scare you?

[She doesn’t look at him, either.]

[thecoordinate]

[There's another pause, significant. He closes his father's bag.]

Does it scare you?

[headhooligan]

[Very, very funny. Eren might catch a faint, quick expression cross Aubrey’s face; it’s not fear.]

I asked first.

[And if (and only if) he hesitates, or starts to deflect again:] Answer me.

[thecoordinate]

[At the "answer me", Eren's gaze sharpens into a glare.]

You don't get to tell me what to do.

Am I afraid of you? Not by a long shot. I could tear you to pieces if I wanted to. I know you're well aware of that now.

[And yet he's still! Deflecting!]

[headhooligan]

[She meets his glare. No irritation; not amused.]

You won’t.

[thecoordinate]

Don't bet on that.

[headhooligan]

Hm.

I don’t care. Answer me.

[thecoordinate]

I have answered you.

[He can do this all day.]

[headhooligan]

[Game on.]

Why would I ever think you’re afraid of me. [Come on.]

[thecoordinate]

Tell me what you're asking, then.

I spared your life. What does that have to do with fear? Be grateful I didn't let you die.