IMPORANT A/N: Erm, why I'm very very very very early is because...uh...I just started writing and couldn't stop... yeah, it was one of those days. Well, sorry to ruin your day regardless~
Not so important A/N: Follow me on tumblr if you want to see some updates I'll be posting during the progress of the next chapter (link is on my page). And thank you for so many reviews and favs last chapter! Every review made my day ^_^
Let me know what you thought of this chapter!
Important Edit: In case you were wondering, this won't be angsty for very long; these Trost chapters call for it though. Once I'm out of Trost it'll go back to a standard humor/romance/friendship scenario, and return to normal until further notice.
Inside the Red Zone
This Eren x Annie story is why I can't have nice things by: Euregatto
Annie…
Eren? Eren, is that you? It's cold here… and dark… Where am I? I can't move my body. – Hey, I'm talking to you. Where are we? I can't see a damned thing.
Weakling…
I… I'm a what? Eren?
Traitor…
No I'm not! Eren, what are you saying?!
Murderer –
Eren!
Heartless –
Eren, stop!
MONSTER!
NO!
YOU KILLED THEM ALL!
EREN PLEASE STOP!
I TRUSTED YOU, ANNIE, I TRUSTED YOU! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! YOU MURDERER!
I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T WANT THIS TO HAPPEN!
YOU MONSTER!
EREN!
I TRUSTED YOU! I LOVED YOU!
Annie abruptly stirs from the obsidian void of her mind when her dream overwhelms her lingering sense of existence (the darkness is ignited by emerald orbs, verdant as the forest and ablaze like the sun), and she stumbles along her nightmares until her brain slams her down into reality.
And then she awakens.
Her eyelids flutter open with the grace of butterfly wings, and her sapphire gaze glistens with newfound alertness and clarity. Her fingers flex to grasp the edges of the sheets beneath her. The ceiling above her is smudged like brick red and bark brown paint along a canvas, rafters blending in messily with the blurred edges of the structure. This place holds a certain, unfamiliarly familiar presence within the back of her mind.
She is awake.
Where am I? How long was I out for?
Realization hits her with all the gentleness of a careening boulder as her previous nightmare replays in her mind. "Eren!" She gasps and shoots upright with a start, casting her frantic eyes around the perimeter of the room. It is an infirmary wing judging by the beds and couplets of soldiers scattered throughout, silently treating minor injuries. The floor is baked by the setting sunlight streaming in through the windows, igniting amber fires across the structures of the pillars and the copper hue of Hannah's hair.
The girl is at Annie's bed side, hazel gaze studying her friend carefully. "Annie," she mutters wistfully, almost hopefully, and somewhat despondently, "how are you feeling?"
Taking a moment to absorb her present situation and the fragments of her memories colliding into place within her head, the blonde positions herself properly, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pressing the arch of her palm to her throbbing brow. "Mm… Hannah, what happened?"
"You went into shock. Reiner and I had to carry you back to the supply tower." Hannah slides her hand over Annie's, entwining their slender digits when the blonde reflexively tries to flinch away. She lowers her voice to a dismal whisper and Annie wants to break her arm for so selflessly remitting unwanted, dejected sympathy and kindness to the soldier in front of her. "Annie, I'm so sorry… I'm so, so sorry…"
"Don't," she hisses bitterly, snapping her arm free of Hannah's touch like it's some kind of potent venom, "I don't want any damn pity like I'm some damn brat! I'm not like you or any of these emotionally unstable cowards!"
All pairs of eyes in the room turn to the girl but she doesn't seem to notice – or, rather, she just doesn't care. Annie has never cared. Hannah furrows her brow, clearly taken aback by the opposing girl's sudden outburst. "Annie, I–"
"Fucking dammit, what the hell's your problem?! Go cry me a river, build a bridge and get the fuck over it! Franz is dead, Mina's dead, Eren's dead! They're all dead, Hannah!"
Hannah winces as the comment hits home and burns its way through her body, like liquid fire has been poured into her veins. It hurts. It really, really hurts, and Annie realizes that because she does. Not. Stop.
"We're not friends! Get that through your fucking head! I don't need you, and I certainly don't need anyone else! I let my guard down once and if this is what's going to be the outcome every damned time, then I don't want to feel a damned thing anymore!" The sudden silence as loud as thunder settles between them. She tucks her chin against her chest, fingers gripping the necklace residing beneath her sweatshirt. "I don't want to feel a damn thing anymore…"
Hannah binds her arms around Annie's shoulders, pulling them together with all the force of two opposite magnets. Annie huffs in surprise. "It's okay, Annie… it's okay if you don't want my sympathy, I get it"—her grasp becomes unbearably tight and Annie's fists bunch up the cotton material of her shirt in return, sapphire orbs wide with shock and gleaming with tears—"but I'm giving it to you anyway, whether you like it or not."
Annie sighs into the trainee's shoulder. "There's no arguing with you…"
Hannah pulls back a moment later, feigning a smile Annie sees right through. "I've lost so much today – Mina, who was my first friend; Franz, my first real crush, my first kiss… I don't want to lose you too. So we're going to have to be strong… Let's be strong together from now on. Okay?"
Annie wants to dead-pan that statement with something along the lines of you're the only one who's weak but decides to keep her mouth shut instead. Reiner appears in her line of vision, intently moving towards them. "Reiner," she remarks and Hannah turns to face him as he draws up to them. "You look like you saw a ghost."
"Can you fight?"
Annie arches her eyebrow at the sudden question. "Yes, I'm okay now. I think I can."
"Good. Come with me."
"Wait, Reiner, what in"—
—"the hell are you dragging me into?"
She observes the detailed diagram of the tower's interior supply room with weary eyes, casting them across the sketches of arrows and sleek parchment paper barely aglow with the few candles they have left in the room. Armin's hand sweeps across the ridges of the margins until he reaches the elevator. "This," he says, tapping the shaft with his forefinger, "is where we'll be. When we pull the triggers to blind the Titans you will descend from support beam eight and down any Titan in your range."
The circular table is surrounded by the top ten of their class (or what's left of them, anyway) and Armin, who is taking charge of the strategy in full. Annie casts her weary gaze up to him, wondering exactly how he had recovered from Eren's death so quickly, and eventually turns her intuitive expression to Mikasa, who has an abnormal clarity in her orbs.
"And I have the dangerous job because…?"
"Your skill level," Armin responds matter-of-factly. "Your strength will guarantee a solid kill, and your aptitude without your gear is a dire importance."
"You're not the only one anyway," Reiner amends passively, "we'll have what's left of our top fifteen on all eleven beams, and I'll be on five."
Annie rolls her eyes. "Your fat ass will break the damn thing."
"Fuck you, half-pint!"
Marco steps between them to break them up, swiping his fingers across the sketches of twelve, featureless, pallid figurines spotted throughout the room. "If you look here, you'll see that there are more of them then there are of us. Someone will have to take two. I'm betting you, Christa"—he nods to her and she inclines her head in return—"since you have a better jump."
"It's settled then," Armin declares, rising from his seat, "we're all set to commence with the plan. Let's ready the guns. The strike team should take the back stairwell and get ready on your beams."
Annie tails behind Reiner as the strike unit ditches their burdensome gears for the swords. They disappear through the back door into the staircase that descends on a spiral, down, down, steeply diving towards the ground below. Her cobalt gaze never leaves Mikasa's back. "Mikasa," she starts and the girl replies with a small 'hm?'. "Are you alright? You seem too okay for… you know."
"I'm fine," she responds in her typical, monotone voice, "are you?"
I wish, Annie tells herself bitterly, sliding her fingers up to the pulse point of her neck. She misses the tender marks Eren would leave along the arch of her porcelain flesh so she could mull over them later. I wish for many things… for this nightmare to be over, for Eren to come back, for me to return to the day we met and avoid ever falling in love with him. She touches her sternum where her necklace resides beneath her hoodie. Her heart has stopped throbbing painfully, at least, but now it feels like there is an empty void in her chest.
"He would want us to live." Annie glances back at the opposing girl when her abrupt comment breaks the distilled silence of the stairwell. Mikasa raises her sword to her forehead, dipping her head down as if praying to his soul, wherever it may be: in Heaven, in the ground, lost in the realm of the world. After a beat she lowers the blade. "He would want us to fight. He would want us to see tomorrow."
He would want me to be happy, probably, she muses grimly. But I'm not supposed to be. And what little happiness I let myself feel died with Eren, that suicidal jackass. Didn't he ever think of anyone but himself? She clutches the necklace beneath the fabric of her shirt. Did I ever think of anyone but myself…?
"Are we sure this is going to work?" Connie's voice brings her back to reality.
"Of course," Reiner replies with a grunt, whipping his sword up into the air. The metallic gleam reflects the candlelight. "And if not, we can just shove our blades up their assholes!"
Connie seems thoroughly amazed. "They have two weaknesses?!"
Annie tunes them out until they reach the entrance to the ceiling rafters. Sasha skips across the pillars as quietly as possible and with perfect balance, treading over the collection of Titans wandering around aimlessly below. Christa and Connie follow her carefully, Bertholdt branching off left, Reiner to the right, Annie up, across, and back down, Mikasa positioning herself on the one beam closest to the door.
Annie reaches into her shirt, pulls out the necklace – a perfectly cut Aquamarine crystal the width of her two first fingers, a knuckle and a half in height; shaped into a square-edged heart, encased in thin wire to keep it suspended from the string. Eren had dug it up along the river bank one day when they had taken a break during 3DMG practice, and delicately washed away the mud to make sure it was real.
"It must be really old."
"Crystals are worth a fortune, Eren. Only the Nobles can afford those. You should sell it."
"Or you can keep it."
"Why?"
"Well, I don't care about money, really. And besides, if you have the heart and I technically have a key, I can have the key to your heart!" He catches her fist when she playfully swings at his chest. "Whoa! I'm just saying!"
"I technically haven't given you my heart."
"You gave me the rest of your body without complaint – owowowow! Stop it Annie, you're breaking my damn arm!"
She scoffs under her breath and presses her lips to the surface, feeling the heartbeat of the sky and the rapids of the waterfalls. Now's not the time to think about such silly things. "Okay," she whispers to herself, pressing the balls of her feet to the tier beneath her, hands on her hilts. "Okay Eren, I'll fight… just for you." The elevator descends on cue, lowering gradually towards the eye-level of the Titans in the room, which all turn instantly and shamble towards their meal. I broke a promise to my father because of you, and I can't back out of it now.
"FIRE!"
Explosions of gunpowder rocket through the supply tower and shake the very beam beneath Annie's palms. She instinctively launches off the rafter, descending into the fray below and sinking her blades into the thick flesh of the closest creature's neck.
A frail maiden like myself shouldn't be putting her life on the line like this.
Sasha screams somewhere to Annie's right and she snaps her gaze over at the girl scrambling away from the Deviant that had knocked her aside during the slaughter. Annie reflexively kicks off the falling Aberrant's body and grapples a rigging rope, swinging up on an arc, releasing at her highest point against the ceiling so the planes of her boots press against the boards. Her body suspends itself like its drifting through still waters, limitless and free, silhouetted against the contrasting dark.
You want me to fight –
She twirls her torso through the torrents as she descends, cutlasses slicing through the thin air, and rafters turn to blood-stained walls turn to the Titans below. Her flashing blades connect with the length of the Deviant's spine.
And you want me to live. I'll try to live… that's the right thing to do, isn't it?
She lands in a crouch, knees absorbing the shock against the wooden tier painted over with the dried blood of her fellow trainees, sword dividing in perfect half and steaming shards of broken brand clattering to the floor. Her cobalt glare turns upwards to the auburn before her, cheeks stained with tears that match the curtain of red beneath them, cracked lips trembling as she mutters her sincerest gratitude.
…I'm sorry, Eren, but I don't know the answer to that anymore.
"Annie."
Blood has dried underneath her fingernails and in the linings of her hands, crumbling beneath the ridges of her flesh as he flexes her knuckles outwards and connects the now filled gas canisters to her gear ports. The stench of copper – the spilled blood of her comrades, of Franz and Mina and Eren and every other poor bastard she no longer cares for – poisons her blood and she massages her pulsating temple as a mild headache comes on.
"Annie, hey, look at me."
"What?" She spits back, hastily clipping the contraptions to her belt and harness. Her frigid glare turns up to Reiner as her fingers expertly fasten her hooks. "I'm not in the mood to talk right now."
Reiner inclines his head as a submissive nod. "I know, I'm not either. Too much has happened to us today, and I'm well aware of that, but there's something we need to see." He starts towards the exit doors, expecting Annie to follow him, which she does. She pulls up to his side and he continues. "While you were out a very interesting class of Titan showed up. It's been outside this whole time wrecking the place apart."
They reach the outside courtyard and zip-line up to the edge of the roof. Jean, Mikasa, and Armin are already there, observing the chaos unfolding before them. Annie tilts her head as the several Titans shred the green-eyed goblin-like Titan apart, feasting on it instead of the soldiers. She figures that it must be a Shifter, not one she's ever heard of before, but one all the same.
"Look!" Armin exclaims suddenly, gesturing to the end of the road, "it's the Titan that ate Thomas!"
As if responding to Armin's cry the goblin-Titan shrieks, intense, blood-curdling roar sweeping through the street. It lunges forward with little effort, knocking side the Titans clinging to its body and sinking its jagged teeth into the Thomas-eater's neck. It lifts the lanky creature up above it, swings the limp body around like a sword to mow down the opposing monsters racing for it, and finally launches the blond beast into the nearest building.
"Shit," Reiner utters breathlessly, "that damned thing doesn't need any arms."
Without warning, the Titan screams its triumph and rage into the sky – and falls over, collapsing face-down against the cobblestone walkway. Vibrations rock the foundation beneath their feet.
"It wore itself out," Jean remarks, unsheathing his sword with a metallic hiss, "let's put it out of its misery before it decides to eat us too, shall we?"
Its body detonates with a cataclysmic boom and steam explodes outwards, clouding the field with debris, embers of its rotting flesh, and Jean instinctively throws his back to the blast, tucking Mikasa against his chest. Shrapnel harmlessly deflects from the trainees' thick uniforms and ash entwines with their hair. Pillars of billowing smoke suffocate the air around them as he draws away from her, Mikasa unfazed by his unusual protectiveness, and the French boy steps towards Annie as she moves to the edge of the roof to get a clearer look around.
Jean peers through the thicket. "Is that…?"
"There's someone in its back," Annie utters, and without warning Mikasa zip-lines by her, swinging on a wide arc towards the pavement. "Mikasa! Where are you going?!" When the Eurasian disappears from view Annie divides her attention between the rest of the group and the haze. "Did I miss something?"
Reiner taps her shoulder. "Let me go after her. Stay here in case any Titans come around." His hooks whip outwards with simultaneous clicks of his hilts and he dives into the street between the buildings, hulky silhouette fading into the thinning cloud.
They stand in a collective silence for several minutes before the shadows of their comrades reappear. And positioned on Reiner's back is an unconscious Eren Jaeger.
He vaults up to the perch to the awaiting team and Mikasa briskly pulls Eren down against her frame, sliding to her knees, wailing hysterically in her brother's chest. "Eren…" Armin mutters in sheer disbelief, awe, denial, abatement of his fear, collapsing at his friends' sides, forehead gradually falling into Eren's shoulder and arms wrapping around them both. "What happened… Eren, what happened to you…?"
Annie is staring at Mikasa and Armin as they sob into Eren's limp form – her cobalt gaze is devoid of the colors of the sky, blank, emotionless, lifeless.
"Hey, Reiner?" She whispers and he glances at her with this kind of empathy that almost makes her want to jump off the roof. The same kind Hannah had given her, and it helps Annie reach a conclusion about a previously disheartening idea. "I think… I'm going to stop feeling now; stop loving him, stop caring about everyone else, and just go back to the way I used to be."
He doesn't know what to say to that, so he opts on saying nothing at all.