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[How? Play pretend really, really hard.]
Visualize it. [Another small victory. He’s not crying; the stakes, maybe, are lowering.] Just focus.
[She couldn’t explain better if she had the full mind to.]
[He's wanted so badly to see it again. It's hard to do that with his eyes still closed, but, even so, the scenery surrounding he and Aubrey does begin to shift.
[Liberio is nothing like Shiganshina - nothing like anything Aubrey will have seen from "Eren's world". The streets are paved with uniform cobblestone, the buildings tall and lit with electricity, not torches. There are even cars (albeit old-fashioned) rattling up and down the street. Here in Bertholdt's neighborhood, there isn't anyone outside without an armband on. He's wearing one too. In fact, his entire outfit has changed.
[He opens his eyes. They're still perched upon a roof, but it--]
It...it can't be...
It's...?
[Home. Home! Bert lets out a breathless laugh, tears springing back into his eyes again. Another laugh follows, then another, until he's properly laughing. It's a joyous sound. Despite everything, his home is his home is his home. And he is finally, finally home...]
I-I can't believe this! It's a miracle!
["Armin", for the record, has not followed them.]
[And thus, the shift.]
[First thing Aubrey notices is Armin-not-Armin fading with the initial rooftops. It tugs at her, but it at least confirms he’s not actually here. (She thinks. Hopes? That… may or may not be a good thing, when he was distressed last she heard of him. Hell knows what he and Eren will be like when she sees them next.... But worrying about that right now is more useless than anything.)]
[She does, at least, spare a glance around the new scenery. It’s… weirdly anachronistic, she thinks, compared to Eren and Armin’s memories. And what’s with the armband? Those dots will connect later, maybe—but for now, Bert’s commanding her focus, and he’s thrilled.]
[“Heartwarming” is a strong word, right now. She manages a small smile, though. It’s not wholly forced.]
Ah, be careful— [Not just because they’re still on a roof, but that’s part of it.] It’s still not the real thing…
[“So enjoy it while you can”? …Nah. Too callous. Let him have this.]
But I’m glad it worked for you.
[There.]
[Bertholdt's eyes aren't on Aubrey. He's too busy staring at Liberio with stars in his eyes.
[It had never been all that wonderful of a place when he was growing up, but now, it seems...awe-inspiring.]
Any time I want to go home, I just...?
[Ah. Freedom, then.]
[Is it really this easy…? Somehow, Aubrey hasn’t considered it. (Maybe it’s the baggage.) But he’s got a point....]
I think… [Armin made it look easy… Maybe Bertholdt’s gifted, too.] …it can be.
[She’ll leave him to it, if the world allows.
[Now where did Eren and Armin go....]
[Nothing more to do aside from clean up, so that's what he's doing when Aubrey arrives.]
Aubrey! [He's glad to see her and he looks it.]
I'm sorry, I...I don't know what happened. I didn't mean to freak out like that - where...did you go?
[Despite everything, he sounds calm.]
[Huh. Closing her eyes and thinking of the last time she saw them actually worked.]
[Aubrey looks a little disoriented, stepping back into view under those buzzing fluorescent lights. But when she sees Armin, up and okay (and mopping up, at that) she’s tempted to run at him with a hug.
[But, caution. Slippery floors.]
Armin! [A big smile will do, then. And, less intentionally, watery eyes, which she promptly blinks away.] No, I— I’m glad to see you. I’m glad you’re okay. There was just…
[Hm. Does she want to risk another panic, mentioning Bertholdt? But that ended well enough....] The world was being weird again. [It’s awkward, and an obvious dodge.] It’s fine.
I am okay. Really. And...you are too?
[Oh...]
Where's Eren? Was he with you?
He wasn’t. [Not in any way that mattered. Her smile fades, at that.] I hope he’s—
[She cuts herself off. Bad to think of steaming stumps, right now. Armin’s offer is noted and watched (so he could use one, she thinks), but Aubrey hesitates just a big longer.] If I see him next, before you… do you want me to tell him anything?
No, I...think I'll get to talk to him again soon.
Thanks, Aubrey.
[May this terrible, beautiful world prove him right.]
A-all right.
[And then she gives him a hug. He’s warm, again. It’s nice....]
Stay safe out there.
You too, Aubrey.
You and Eren...take care of each other. That's what you can do for me. Okay?
[She doesn’t indulge it too long. She might actually start crying if she did. But Armin gets a good pat on the back, and Aubrey tries not to pull away too hastily.]
[Take care of each other… that’s all they can do, in the end, isn’t it?]
Okay.
[”Aubrey. Please.”
[She can’t stop thinking about it. She wondered, after Reiner, if she might see Eren again; she hasn’t. His voice, instead, found her; those desperate, haunting words. And she can’t bend or will or beg with the world enough to make it show her more.]
[Reiner hadn’t seen him. Bertholdt barely recognized him. Armin… Armin wanted to talk to him again. Soon. God, let it have been recent....]
[The Aubrey that steps in the diner is a frazzled one. Her bow remains but her hair’s unkempt, her eyes (still contactless) wild, and she opens and closes her scarred hand around nothing, pained, over and over.
[The hostess approaches; Aubrey ignores her.]
Armin? [Is he at a table again? The counter? Please. Please. Maybe she’s skimming the place too fast to notice.] A-Armin, are you here?
Aubrey?
[He approaches from behind her, as if just walking in.]
Are you alright?
[Is Eren alright?]
Armin! Th-thank god you’re—
[Why does this world seem to like making people appear behind her? Did Aubrey bring him here, somehow? But if it was that easy, Eren would’ve been back a long time ago....]
Eren— [She swallows, steadies her nerve, but there’s no point hiding that she’s worried as hell.] Have you talked to him?
[Oh no...]
I haven't, no. [It's impossible to keep the anxiety out of his own voice.]
Not since that department store. Did something happen?
[What hasn’t happened? God, just look at her hand— The store feels years away already.]
I heard him. He sounded hurt. [Emotionally for sure; physically, she can’t tell, and that makes it worse.] And I can’t get back to him.
[Eren can recover from nearly any physical injury; emotional pain is a different story, but as long as he's not in any true danger - but, Hell, knowing this place...anything goes.]
Could it have been an illusion...?
[Armin’s got a point. Aubrey will never not be grateful at least one person here can stay calm under pressure.]
…I don’t know. It sounded so real, but… [She grips her left hand, right thumb rubbing along that gash. The shadow-Eren, young as he was, that stabbed her—he sounded real, too. So did his faceless mother. Hell, even Armin on the rooftops did, even though Armin didn’t remember leaving the store.]
I just heard his voice, calling from me—nothing else. Usually there’s more to an illusion....
[Well. There was, faintly, something else. Or so it seemed? It was so brief, and Eren’s was unmistakable.]
It could have been Eren. Easily.
It could have been something else too...
What happened the last time you saw him? Can you remember? Was it recent?
[He does idly note the gash on her hand. He can ask about that later.]
[Aubrey’s not sure what’s worse, the idea of Eren stuck out there somewhere, pleading for her—or that something else in the world might use that as a fucked-up siren call. It’s working, whatever it is; she just… can’t… reach it....
[She at least manages not to direct that frustration Armin’s way, though her own expression is turbulent. The last time she saw Eren, well…]
We should sit down.
Alright. Let's find a table.
[He glances around. Pickin's are slim - not. There's not a single occupied table in the place. He leads her to the nearest one, gesturing for her to take a seat before taking one on his own.]
[Aubrey, looking anywhere but Armin’s face, simply nods and follows him to the seat. Not a booth, more in the middle of the place… strange that that shadow-hostess isn’t floating around. It’s even weirder to expect a haunting like that, though.]
[She’s just gotten seated, barely starting to talk, when the lights flicker.]
[Mari doesn’t remember becoming a waitress. And yet, in the split second it takes for the light to reappear, she finds herself standing in front of a diner table with a notepad in hand. The script leaves her lips before her mind can catch up.]
Hi! Welcome to Denny’s. My name’s Mari and I’ll be your waitress today. How can I serve you two this evening?
[The pink-haired girl stares at her, mouth open, like she’s seeing a ghost.]
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