Warnings: Character death
Later they will tell him that two days passed. He loses count of the times he'd wake up, just to fall back into feverish dreams. It felt like two weeks.
He dreams of when he first met Erwin. Of the first time he killed a man, of the first time he killed a titan, of how it didn't differ that much. Of vast fields of grass and clear skies that made something clench in his chest.
Everything whirls together, the pictures becoming duller and sounds from the wakeful world invading his dreams. He wants neither to sleep nor be awake, but can only pretend for so long.
Someone props him up on a pillow and offers a glass of water. A second of hesitation from the person. His limbs are filled with lead.
He looks around dazedly and sees Eren fidgeting at the doorframe nervously. He looks like hell. Someone slams the door shut.
"Drink."
The glass rim is cold and welcome against his chapped lips. He wants to lift his hand up, hold it up himself, but can't.
Water is dribbling down his chin, sending shivers everywhere it goes.
The glass is pulled back sooner than it should but he can only manage a hoarse croak.
He coughs and there's a hand on his back, small and warm. Only then he realizes it's Hanji by his bed.
He wants to cover his mouth, but can't.
Vision swims, colors too bright. He doesn't feel right.
"You're probably still heavily medicated." It's as if she had read his mind, although ignoring the other question, which is starting to grow heavy, hanging in the air and making it humid with tension. He can't remember anything.
"Erwin's dead."
She knew he'd appreciate the straight-forwardness, he'd do the same for her.
He stares at his lap, desperation for a distraction pooling in his stomach and finds one soon enough, noticing why his body feels so weird. One of his arms are gone, chopped off neatly above the elbow, bandaged up.
He lifts his eyes to look around the room again, to make sure of that only Hanji is there. Just her.
"Medicate me some more."
They do.
He doesn't dream this time.
He's still drowsy at the funeral. It's the usual official bullshit, there's no body to bury anyway. He leaves early, swaying lightly as he walks since there's balance still to be found, one sleeve draping uselessly over his shoulder.
He refuses to cry for Erwin, his arm, the fact he's useless to the Scouting Legion now.
Instead he finds awkward peace in comforting Eren. Apparently Armin died too. He feels bad for a face not connecting with the name in his memories. He wants to apologize, but can't. Wants to cry about that too.
Eren understands. Through gasping sobs he manages to say "I'll cry for you" quietly.
And he kisses the tears away from the boy's face, feeling Erwin's strong cheekbones under his lips, warm and damp.
Eren knows.
A/n: When I have a nasty hangover, I write angst. It helps. Sorry.