Dreams and Reality
My first ever contribution to the SNK fandom, yay! I haven't been hit by any idea for ages and once this popped in my head, I just couldn't let go of it.
(I don't know if the link will work, but I'll give it a go anyway)
Inspired by this photo: vi/arbmZJlsoxU/maxresdefault .jpg
It's faint, but he's certain of what he hears.
Through the heavy stomping of his own leather boots and the dry grass that rustles and crunches underneath him, he hears it. He remembers the sound of it clearly from his early childhood memories with his sister and best friend. The days where the three of them would sit, huddled close together around an open book. A thick book (a gift from Armin's grandfather) with a cover of fine leather, filled with page after page of text and detailed pictures that described what was considered to be taboo (courtesy of the corrupt government) - the outside world. He remembers listening intently to his best friend, whose sky-blue eyes lit and burnt with unmasked passion and life as he talked about the Flames of Water, Land of Ice and Snowfield of Sand- a world full of wonder, beyond the walls that trapped them in like caged birds.
"Eren!" his voice was filled with excitement that he couldn't contain, "Put this to your ear and listen!" The blonde stuffed a strange object, sharp at the edges with several bumps, yet at the same time its surface was as smooth as porcelain glass.
"… I don't hear anything."
"Shh, don't speak. Just listen closely…" After a moment of silence, they shared a look of astonishment. "Can you hear it?"
It was a constant rumble, like an approaching thunderstorm, yet it was soothing, a comforting symphony of clapping thunder that fit harmoniously. The muffled crashing of approaching and receding waters became a soft lullaby that eased his senses, accompanied with the whoosh of the gentle wind drowning out any other sound and for Eren; it is only him and the wide, wide ocean.
"I can hear it now, Armin."
The land is solid, but then suddenly he stumbles forwards as the ground caves in, falling onto his front with a gasp. Surprisingly what he lands on cushions him, and with the curiosity of an infant child, he slides the palm of his hand across the grainy, scratchy surface of the strange unexplored land. He digs a hand under, burying it and he lets out a soft laugh as he pushes himself up back up, shaking his head. The boy scoops up a handful of what he learnt to be 'sand', and lets it trickle through the gaps between his calloused fingers, relishing the strange feel of the smoothness as it cascades down as well as its unique, rough texture. The silkiness as it flows through reminds him of the rare moments he and his mother shared, just mother and son, as he helped her in the kitchen in preparing food that included rice, a scarce ingredient worth a lot in his hometown, the Shiganshina district.
He stands, balance wobbly before he breaks into a run, smiling all the while. He doesn't stop even after he's tripped and fallen over the constantly shifting surface more times than both his hands can account. He continues, the wind ruffling the brown turfs of his hair, the ghostly sighs it makes as he goes as far as he can, closer, nearer to the waves, to the ocean.
He freezes the moment he feels that the sand no longer sinks beneath his steps, out of breathe, his lungs burning with raw pain - but he is satisfied. The roaring of waves consumes him; he feels that his boots are now wet and the slight push as the body of water rolls, almost lazily, along the shore. Taking a step, his yelp is cut short as he falls ungracefully into the arms of the sea with a loud splash. He splutters as he stands up, drenched from head to toe in salt water. The coldness of the water bites through the material of the standard military uniform he wears, although it weighs him down, it is far from unpleasant.
The books weren't lying when they described the ocean to be filled with salt.
He takes a whiff, filling his lungs with air, the faint saltiness of the ocean breeze and grins, almost knee-deep in the sea. Eren takes off in a sprint along the coast, his arms swinging, legs pushing against the wet, mushy sand that squelches under his weight. The wind billows against his freezing body, thin, green V-neck hugging his malnourished figure. His boots are soaked and slipping off, his chest raw and burning from all the running and he yells, savoring the taste of liberation. Salt drips from the ends of his hair that is plastered on his forehead into his eyes and it stings. He screams until his voice and cracking and he falls, catching himself in a half-roll in the sand. Soon enough, he is back on his two feet, continuing his course with a hearty laugh, embedding the fresh air of unmistakeable freedom of finally being able to live without the paranoia and fear of being eaten by titans, the misty sprays of the ocean, and the sand beneath him, all into his mind.
He can only imagine how the sunlight looks, reflecting off the pure blueness of the salty ocean, how clear the water must be, transparent and see through like glass. How there might be creatures in the water he treads. According to the books, oceans are filled with sea creatures called 'fish' that swim using fins and have gills instead of lungs as well as a myriad of beautifully colored corals, each distinct and different from each other.
Something catches the tip of his boot underwater and Eren finds himself diving head first, back into the water. He rubs at his face, once he is on his knees with his eyes feeling like they are literally on fire. The stinging doesn't fade, nor does it stop. The pounding of his heart hasn't slowed and his breathes comes out in short pants. His stomach growls loudly, complaining and his throat feels dehydrated. His whole body hurts and he realizes that it is not the same pain he felt before – he feels so tired, exhausted and on the verge of collapsing.
In his ecstatic state he completely forgets about his weakening body, lacking in substantial nutrients and adequate amounts of water.
He forgets about the deaths of all the people he knew, he forgets that he is all alone and just like that, the euphoria he formerly felt dissipates and disappears into absolute nothingness, leaving him empty and sober.
It hurts…
He struggles to breathe; the constriction of his chest doesn't ease and his mind numbly notes of a distant screaming, a throaty scream that sounds nothing of a humans' - all broken and incredibly heart-wrenching.
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. IT HURTS IT HURTS ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTTS-
He doesn't realize the person screaming is himself.
With a pained gasp, Eren opens his eyes. His vision is blurred and unfocused, unable to concentrate. He vaguely registers the throbbing pain of his entire body, the falling pitter patter of the ongoing rain drowning his senses.
He is on his back, green cloak of the scouting legion doing little to keep him warm, as his uniform clings to him like second skin. When he shifts, he hears the metallic groan of his 3D maneuver gear and the sickening mush of the Earth beneath him. He shudders, both at the coldness of the water and the disgusting stickiness of the mud. He groans, as he sits up with effort, head spinning, throbbing.
Through his blurred vision he makes out still figures, the white sheen of familiar military pants contrasting the dark woods, all lying down and dread fills the pit of his stomach. It's too still. They're too still. Unmoving, all splayed out in unnatural positions like thrown ragged dolls.
Why can't my eyes focus?
Why can't I remember anything?
He squints, and notices a body with familiar golden hair, lying face down on top of a tree root. The shoulder width of the man is too broad to be his best friend and Eren knows the man is none other than-
"Commander Erwin!"
But he is unresponsive and unmoving... and Eren knows that he is dead.
Eren's voice is hoarse and croaky and tears well up as he notices more unmoving bodies. One of the many dolls has ashen-brown hair, leaning against the bark of a tree. He crawls closer, dragging himself with aching arms.
"J-jean," his lips move and his eyes are wide, "hey, h-horse face. Get up, please, g-get up…"
Dark maroon is splattered and running down the tree and the brunette can only assume he died a similar death to Petra, his face bruised and a bloody mess – to the point it is near unrecognizable. Jean's hand is loosely wrapped the hilt of the sword and Eren vaguely sees scratched letters, imprinted with care and tenderness; all in capital letters.
He turns away, tears streaming down his dirty cheeks.
There is a bright sheen of silver to Jean's right and immediately, Eren recognizes who it is. The only person he's ever seen with a buzz cut in his life. Much like Erwin, he is face down, body twisted in an awkward, painful position. Eren is certain he has broken several, if not the majority of his bones.
"C-Connie, hey," he pauses a distance away, unable to move any closer, his figure quivering uncontrollably, "stop t-this," he looks around him, face aghast and raises his tone, desperate, "stop joking around, t-this isn't funny!"
But his voice cracks and he sobs, openly searching for anyone, for anyone living because he knows, the people he's come across is long gone. He knows they will never come back. He shouts, hoping that someone, any person will respond; hopelessly wishing that there is someone other than himself who's alive.
He doesn't see anyone else living, but he spots his superior, whom he views and is considered to be 'humanity's strongest soldier', lying, an almost peaceful expression on his usually tense features. His eyes are closed; head tilted back, pale skin unmarred by the dirt and filth. In his hand is a lone blade, the rain washing off the blood that remains. Eren notices that it isn't of a titans', as the familiar hiss of steam is missing.
"C-corporal…"
He doesn't know the blood belonged to him.
But he can't find them.
Neither Armin nor Mikasa are around.
Eren's head turns frantically, searching his surroundings to the best of his abilities with his injured eyes and the relentless storm.
Where are they?!
He begins to panic, scenarios of their dead, mangled bodies filling his vision and he prays that they are somewhere safe and sound. His breathing hitches and he cries out, until there's a soft voice; faint and fragile.
"Eren…"
He recognizes that voice, and scrambles towards it like a moth to a light.
Eren immediately responds, "Mikasa!"
Her voice resounds once again, and Eren scuttles over, past the countless of identical trees and lifeless corpses that lay on the forest floor. He prays to see her, strong as always, alive with all her limbs intact. But her voice is too soft, too quiet and feeble, and he knows something is terribly wrong. He ignores it, however, relief flooding him as she's alive and breathing, and that's all that matters.
A growing smile spreads across his features and despite his worsening eyesight; his jade-green orbs are as bright as ever. He turns a corner and the relief is knocked out of him like a low blow to his stomach. His smile immediately dies away, his breathe catches and he halts, frozen in shock.
Resting on the back of a tree between its roots is Mikasa, wheezing, shivering and struggling to breathe. Eren is on his knees and slowly, he makes his way over, disbelief written all over his features.
"N-no..."
Mikasa only smiles at him, the rare, tiny but genuine upwards curve of her lips, unhidden by her red scarf. She whispers breathlessly, "You're okay."
Her gear lies in fragmented pieces, sword chipped and practically useless by her right hand. Eren is by her side now, cradling her head in his arms and crying, staring unblinkingly at her lower half, "No... W-what... Happened…?"
Her eyes soften, and with a shaking hand, reaches a hand up to touch Eren's cheek, "We did it, Eren..." She pauses, inhaling and she winces, squirming in pain, "We defeated all the titans."
She misses out that he went berserk and tried to kill them all.
She misses out how Jean was crushed by his swinging arm, how Connie fought till he died, desperate to save Sasha from being eaten. How the people who are missing are long gone because of his titan form.
She misses out how Levi struggled to fulfill his task of killing him when he lost control of himself.
But she doesn't blame him. She can't bring herself to hate him. She doesn't want to.
Her breathing slows and stutters at times and Eren struggles to form any coherent thought because there's too much blood everywhere, a puddle of crimson red, pooling underneath Mikasa and seeping into his clothes. The rain doesn't mask the familiar metallic stench of death. He can't think because-
It's gone. Her entire lower half is gone.
"We've got to- we've got to get help," is all Eren can choke out, as he reaches for the gun, arms trembling.
He notices two canisters, the green and black rounds, then purple, lying forlornly not too far away, and the look his sister sends him tells him that she was the one who fired all three of them, each round proving to be fruitless. With vigorously shaking hands, he loads the gun, and then releases the safety, before aiming towards the sky. The flare is red, the sign for a titan sighted but he doesn't care. It's the only round he has left and it doesn't matter as long as it catches the other scouting members' attention. He grabs the extra purple flares by Mikasa's side, and fires all of them, howling.
"It's... useless," Eren looks down at Mikasa's already pale face, draining from the color it has left; he notices her eyes are teary, and it's not because of the rain. Her voice is quiet, "There's... No one left but us."
"W-what about Armin?" he tries, but when he sees the slight shake of her head he rambles on, voice frantic, "Hanji, Sasha?! They've got to be out there…" He trails off, Mikasa's eyes avoiding his and he knows.
They didn't make it.
But Eren won't give up, because he refuses to believe it, he refuses to accept it. He lifts his two pinkies to his lips, calling urgently for his horse. But all he hears is the rain, Mikasa's shallow breathing and nothing more.
Unsteadily, he pulls himself up, almost falling over, "Then I-I'll carry you back to base! I-I've got to get you help. You need-"
"Eren..."
"-medical attention and then-"
"Eren…"
"And then, and then, and the-"
"Eren," He looks down and he whimpers at the stern finality and acceptance in her voice. "It's okay," she mumbles, taking Eren's hand into her own. Eren notices how deathly cold she is, as she repeats herself, "it's okay."
Her murmur dies away and it seems as though she is reassuring herself more than Eren. She looks back up at him, "Thank you," she says, other hand on the scarf around her neck, eyes filled with unspeakable fondness.
Thank you for everything.
"Thank you," She repeats, and nuzzles her face into the dark red scarf.
She smiles a kind, final smile before she softly breathes, "I'll see you later, Eren."
And his eyes are wide, and he watches, stare never faltering as her breathing slows, the rise and fall of her chest stopping altogether and everything is still. Everything feels like it's slowed down and he watches as her eyes that were trained onto his own flutter closed, and her head lolls to the side. All he hears is the sound of rain and his shrill, agonized cry of pain as he mourns for the loss of his comrades.
Eren's eyes snap open as he inhales sharply. He hears his rapid, pulsing heart, the songs of birds and the rustle of grass around him. He sees Mikasa, wearing a thin, plain white summer dress that passes her knees with a matching sweater that covers her arms down to her wrist. Her long hair cascading past her shoulders and scarf with a gleam of impatience in her dark eyes.
He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "I feel like I had a really long dream," he pauses, confused, "I just can't remember it."
His sister shrugs on her back bundles of stacked sticks and when she turns to look back at Eren, her eyes widen in surprise.
"Eren," she calls his name, voice filled with concern.
Her eyebrows furrow, eyes filled with worry.
"Why are you crying?"
Which is a dream and which is reality?
I just had this idea: what if the dreams Eren has are from him of parallel worlds, or maybe from his past selves? This was written as a result of that prompt and well, I hope you enjoyed this fanfic! Thank you for reading!
If you notice any errors, please don't hesitate to tell me! (Don't hesitate to tell me your opinions either~ They're very much appreciated!)
Have a lovely morning/afternoon/evening!