[Great.] It’s— it’s this world doing its thing again. [She doesn’t mean to sound dismissive, but. God damn it.] I haven’t been able to resist, but… I think you just have to ride it out.
You’ll be okay.... [Or so Aubrey hopes. No titans through the fog, that she can see… and no Eren, either. But Armin’s in distress right now, and she focuses back on him. Gives his shoulder a squeeze, too. Her other hand, hidden by her side, is clenched tight.]
[Aubrey's presence is a comfort, but only just barely. Unlike she and Eren, Armin's never experienced anything like this before. Being forced to witness a memory - that he can maybe relate to a little more, but not this. He wants to tell her everything. He feels an overwhelming need to confess.]
I-I killed Bertholdt Hoover.
[He says it again. His head feels swimmy.]
That monster you saw in me and Eren's memory...I'm no better!
[He squeezes his eyes shut tight, averting his head away from her even so.]
And now Bertholdt's memories live inside of me - they're always there, I can't...I can't escape them.
[Bertholdt Hoover sits with long legs bent at the knee against his chest. His arms are wrapped around them. He's not looking at Aubrey, but he is talking to her.]
I don't blame him for what he did. How could I?
I only got what was coming to me.
[Armin continues to cry beside them, curling up in a ball on the roof; but the sounds he's making become muffled, as if he were encased in glass. He doesn't respond at all to Bertholdt. He doesn't seem to be aware of his presence at all. If Aubrey interacts with him, he won't respond to that either.]
[It’s strange, hearing the confession without an equal compulsion. Belatedly the actual content of Armin’s words starts to settle in. But he can’t be the same as that mindless, grinning oaf—he’s here, clearly remorseful…]
[Before Aubrey can think of what to say, or if she even wants to speak at all, a new voice. Armin curls. She angles her arm around him, as if in defense—but this isn’t a faceless shadow-person, and he sounds nothing if not sad.]
Bertholdt…? [Her eyes are narrowed at him, but she doesn’t quite sound cautious. Of course it’s Bertholdt. But how…?]
[Bertholdt nods, miserable. He can’t pretend to know who Aubrey is; clearly a friend of Armin’s. So, she probably knows all about him - judging by how Armin’s talking, anyway. But Bertholdt can’t hear him too well now.
[If Armin has any awareness of Aubrey or Bertholdt, he doesn't show it. It isn't willful ignorance. The sounds he makes are still muffled; in fact, it seems as though he might as well be one of the shadow people, trapped in a cycle that he isn't even aware of.
[She's right then. This world toys with people. Bertholdt really can't rest even in death?
[Bertholdt does finally meet her eyes. He looks...tired, defeated, broken down by circumstance.]
Not for nothing, but when I first saw this place...
[He glances down at his palms until they make fists.]
I was certain it was Hell...
[Then, with a resigned sigh, he closes his eyes, releases the tension in his hands, looks back at Aubrey.]
Being eaten over and over again. It would be a fitting punishment.
We had the same impression, then. About this being Hell.
[Bertholdt’s not the only one sounding, and looking, defeated.] I’m still not sure it isn’t, really. You can control it, to some extent… but as soon as your memory or thoughts get away from you…
[The more they talk the more Armin’s unresponsiveness is concerning her. Faintly she’s reminded of Eren shaking in the barracks. But he doesn’t seem to be dying, and maybe he needs more time to get it all out…]
[Is he wrong? Aubrey’s been feeling dead an awful lot, lately. It’s starting to creep in now, actually, but she’s more… exhausted, than anything. Her reply is mutter.] Might as well be....
[But Bertholdt’s eyes shift, and so do hers. They stay, this time; wasn’t Armin making that particular face just a moment ago…?] It doesn’t. [An absent reply. Aubrey’s voice is sharper now, more alert. She keeps watching Armin.] But he is— Armin?
[Armin offers no response. Bertholdt feels a cold chill. Is this how Armin feels, watching a dead man's memories? It's a sensation Bertholdt is more than familiar with....]
[To Bertholdt:] Help me. [There’s a flash of fire in her eyes at the demand.]
[She didn’t know what to do with Eren in the barracks; dumb luck, maybe. She doesn’t know how to tourniquet a psychological wound. Shaking isn’t working; she tries patting at his face, light but very agitated; nothing. He’s cold. Why is he cold?!]
[Why is Bertholdt just sitting there? Can’t he move? The world is dangling them over its inhuman maw and they can’t do anything?!]
[Armin’s scream echoes in her head, sharply. She covers her ears, as if blocking out Bertholdt.] He has your memories. You can’t be useless. Do something!
[Aubrey's sudden ire makes Bertholdt jump on reflex. He's always been the nervous type, and he prefers to avoid confrontation when he can; doesn't seem like that'll be an option right now, though.]
What can I do other than what you've already tried? You said yourself that this world toys with us. That's what's happening. You're being toyed with.
[To his credit, Bertholdt finally moves, pushing himself up to stand. He approaches Armin as Aubrey has requested.]
Hey, Armin. It's me, remember? The traitor who destroyed your life. What, you don't want to see me?
[He isn't budging. It's useless. Bertholdt feels bad for his callousness, but what else is he supposed to do? It's hard enough to see Armin like this, even with the anger he still holds for him.
[He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he can't bear to look at him.]
Armin...
[His eyes open. There's an edge to his stare now.]
You shouldn't beat yourself up like this. We all know you only did what you had to do. Hell, you didn't even know what you were doing until it was over.
I only got what I had coming to me. Didn't you hear me say that?
Come on...Get up.
[Alas, nothing.]
What did I tell you? He's just an illusion. You're wasting your time.
[Normally Bertholdt’s jump might make her feel bad; not right now. She’s not mad at him (but she is), it’s what he’s saying (but he’s saying it), and if he didn’t actually move—]
[Well. He does. And it’s no rush, but it sounds like it should work, and it doesn’t, and Bertholdt’s being so callous but it’s not his fault he’s a ghost, of course he was defeated before he got here—]
[Aubrey looks like she’s still fuming. Her hands are tense, still hovered over Armin, but—useless. As far as she’s concerned he started dying when she wasn’t paying attention, and it makes her want to jump off the roof.]
I’m not giving up. [Hands ball into fists, dropping hard on the tile. What, does she have to punch him? It’d feel like desecrating a corpse. He just got his arm gouged open, for god’s sake.] I’m not, I am not giving up on him.
[Back to Bertholdt; furious, desperate.] If he’s an illusion then he’s yours. Why is he like this to you?
[The question catches Bertholdt off guard; cuts through him like a knife, in fact. It's a good question. It's one he's not prepared for; not even prepared to think about, really.
[She's probably right. Of course, Bertholdt never did see Armin quite this way-- The thought dies before it can complete itself. Upon looking at Armin again, he's young, just the way Bertholdt left him; longer hair, a smaller build, more intense trembling.]
I...I don't know, I...
[Armin never quite seemed scared of Bertholdt when he was still alive, nor did he ever show quite so much mourning, but...Of course, it makes sense, when you think about it for more than a few seconds...
[His jaw clenches. He feels like he might cry himself.]
I'm the reason he's like this...
[The reason for Armin's pain and grief. The reason for everyone's pain and grief. The reason that humanity has been driven right up to the brink of extinction. The reason there's famine and shortage inside the interior. The reason Armin's grandfather is dead; he and countless others. Armin grieves by pure virtue of Bertholdt's existence.
[He feels sorry for him. He isn't supposed to - he never was - but...he does.]
You must know, right? It's our fault. [He, Reiner, and Annie.] All of it.
[A moment later, however, desperate:]
But we didn't-- We had no choice. We thought we were doing the right thing. We didn't know...
[Something changed. Armin changed. It confirms the illusion and it’s a stab through the gut. Is the real him trapped—in that shifting body, somewhere else?
[Bertholdt pulls her attention back. He looks like he’s going to cry. Guilt claws its way in; the pieces haven’t quite settled, to Aubrey, but the outline is faint. He was a titan. Armin ate him, had to eat him. And, nine years ago…
[He’s so human, for a monster. They all are.]
[There’s a temptation for the anger to grab that admission, claw at it til there’s nothing left. How could anyone think attacking a town was the right thing? Even if they were young—
[“We didn’t know.” And the past can’t be changed. No matter whose fault....]
[Aubrey is silent for a while. The fury dissipates in a figurative steam; she looks at Bertholdt, past him.
[It’s all so goddamn sad.]
It’s already happened. [Finally, she sounds distant again. Not entirely, not dead yet. But not quite here.]
[Finally, tears do spring into Bertholdt's eyes. He's good enough at holding back the worst of the emotion, but only in the way that makes it rot in his chest.]
I know. I know that.
[At this, he lets himself fall back into a seated position on the roof, immediately pulling his knees up to his chest again.]
I'd accepted it. I really had.
[Reiner, on the other hand...
[A shadow appears behind Bertholdt without him noticing; his friend, but older, kneeling on the roof with a rifle in his mouth. Bertholdt continues, unaware.]
I had no choice but to live with myself, you know? Even up until the end, I could tell myself they were all Devils if I tried, but...
[He shakes his head. Reiner cocks the gun. Bertholdt still doesn't notice.]
It wasn't true...They were our friends, we...We came to love them...
[His voice sounds quiet, broken.]
How couldn't we...?
[Another shadow; this one should be unmistakable to Aubrey. Eren Jaeger, removing the rifle, holding out his hand, pulling Reiner to his feet. A ghostly echo makes Bertholdt turn his head:]
"We are the same."
[The shadows dissipate. Bertholdt's eyes are wide.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Great.] It’s— it’s this world doing its thing again. [She doesn’t mean to sound dismissive, but. God damn it.] I haven’t been able to resist, but… I think you just have to ride it out.
You’ll be okay.... [Or so Aubrey hopes. No titans through the fog, that she can see… and no Eren, either. But Armin’s in distress right now, and she focuses back on him. Gives his shoulder a squeeze, too. Her other hand, hidden by her side, is clenched tight.]
no subject
I-I killed Bertholdt Hoover.
[He says it again. His head feels swimmy.]
That monster you saw in me and Eren's memory...I'm no better!
[He squeezes his eyes shut tight, averting his head away from her even so.]
And now Bertholdt's memories live inside of me - they're always there, I can't...I can't escape them.
no subject
It's horrifying, isn't it?
[Bertholdt Hoover sits with long legs bent at the knee against his chest. His arms are wrapped around them. He's not looking at Aubrey, but he is talking to her.]
I don't blame him for what he did. How could I?
I only got what was coming to me.
[Armin continues to cry beside them, curling up in a ball on the roof; but the sounds he's making become muffled, as if he were encased in glass. He doesn't respond at all to Bertholdt. He doesn't seem to be aware of his presence at all. If Aubrey interacts with him, he won't respond to that either.]
no subject
[It’s strange, hearing the confession without an equal compulsion. Belatedly the actual content of Armin’s words starts to settle in. But he can’t be the same as that mindless, grinning oaf—he’s here, clearly remorseful…]
[Before Aubrey can think of what to say, or if she even wants to speak at all, a new voice. Armin curls. She angles her arm around him, as if in defense—but this isn’t a faceless shadow-person, and he sounds nothing if not sad.]
Bertholdt…? [Her eyes are narrowed at him, but she doesn’t quite sound cautious. Of course it’s Bertholdt. But how…?]
no subject
[He curls in a little more tightly on himself.]
My reputation precedes me, I guess.
no subject
[One would think this chain of devouring and destruction might be taking center stage. But instead…]
You’re dead.
How are you here?
no subject
[He still isn't looking at her.]
I don't remember how I got here. I'm not even sure what "here" is.
Sorry.
no subject
[She’s talking to a ghost.]
[Disquieting.]
It’s a memory… or at least part of one.
[With a glance down to Armin.] Strange world....
no subject
It's my memory...
no subject
[Another look to Armin. She’s in no position to blame anyone for being caught in their own grief and guilt… but....]
[Okay. Trying to meet Bertholdt’s eyes again, then.]
It’s yours. And I think it’s Armin’s, too—and not just because of. what happened....
Whatever this place is… it toys with us. [Frustrating....]
no subject
[She's right then. This world toys with people. Bertholdt really can't rest even in death?
[Bertholdt does finally meet her eyes. He looks...tired, defeated, broken down by circumstance.]
Not for nothing, but when I first saw this place...
[He glances down at his palms until they make fists.]
I was certain it was Hell...
[Then, with a resigned sigh, he closes his eyes, releases the tension in his hands, looks back at Aubrey.]
Being eaten over and over again. It would be a fitting punishment.
That's what I expected.
no subject
We had the same impression, then. About this being Hell.
[Bertholdt’s not the only one sounding, and looking, defeated.] I’m still not sure it isn’t, really. You can control it, to some extent… but as soon as your memory or thoughts get away from you…
[The more they talk the more Armin’s unresponsiveness is concerning her. Faintly she’s reminded of Eren shaking in the barracks. But he doesn’t seem to be dying, and maybe he needs more time to get it all out…]
[A quiet, reluctant conclusion:] …Trapped.
no subject
Unless I'm wrong.
[At the word "trapped", Bertholdt's eyes drift over to Armin. They look pained.]
Honestly...I wasn't even sure if he was real. Almost doesn't seem like it, don't you think...?
[Sure enough, if they were to look closely, they'd see the motion of Armin's grief repeat like a pattern on an endless loop.]
no subject
[Is he wrong? Aubrey’s been feeling dead an awful lot, lately. It’s starting to creep in now, actually, but she’s more… exhausted, than anything. Her reply is mutter.] Might as well be....
[But Bertholdt’s eyes shift, and so do hers. They stay, this time; wasn’t Armin making that particular face just a moment ago…?] It doesn’t. [An absent reply. Aubrey’s voice is sharper now, more alert. She keeps watching Armin.] But he is— Armin?
no subject
See what I mean?
no subject
[Bertholdt sounds distant, suddenly. Aubrey is chilled in tandem.]
Armin? [More insistent. She grabs both his shoulders and jostles him.] C-can you hear me?
no subject
It's just you and me, then...
no subject
[To Bertholdt:] Help me. [There’s a flash of fire in her eyes at the demand.]
[She didn’t know what to do with Eren in the barracks; dumb luck, maybe. She doesn’t know how to tourniquet a psychological wound. Shaking isn’t working; she tries patting at his face, light but very agitated; nothing. He’s cold. Why is he cold?!]
no subject
He isn't real. You're wasting your time...
no subject
H-he was just talking. You heard him!
[Why is Bertholdt just sitting there? Can’t he move? The world is dangling them over its inhuman maw and they can’t do anything?!]
[Armin’s scream echoes in her head, sharply. She covers her ears, as if blocking out Bertholdt.] He has your memories. You can’t be useless. Do something!
no subject
What can I do other than what you've already tried? You said yourself that this world toys with us. That's what's happening. You're being toyed with.
[To his credit, Bertholdt finally moves, pushing himself up to stand. He approaches Armin as Aubrey has requested.]
Hey, Armin. It's me, remember? The traitor who destroyed your life. What, you don't want to see me?
[He isn't budging. It's useless. Bertholdt feels bad for his callousness, but what else is he supposed to do? It's hard enough to see Armin like this, even with the anger he still holds for him.
[He closes his eyes for a moment, as if he can't bear to look at him.]
Armin...
[His eyes open. There's an edge to his stare now.]
You shouldn't beat yourself up like this. We all know you only did what you had to do. Hell, you didn't even know what you were doing until it was over.
I only got what I had coming to me. Didn't you hear me say that?
Come on...Get up.
[Alas, nothing.]
What did I tell you? He's just an illusion. You're wasting your time.
no subject
[Normally Bertholdt’s jump might make her feel bad; not right now. She’s not mad at him (but she is), it’s what he’s saying (but he’s saying it), and if he didn’t actually move—]
[Well. He does. And it’s no rush, but it sounds like it should work, and it doesn’t, and Bertholdt’s being so callous but it’s not his fault he’s a ghost, of course he was defeated before he got here—]
[Aubrey looks like she’s still fuming. Her hands are tense, still hovered over Armin, but—useless. As far as she’s concerned he started dying when she wasn’t paying attention, and it makes her want to jump off the roof.]
I’m not giving up. [Hands ball into fists, dropping hard on the tile. What, does she have to punch him? It’d feel like desecrating a corpse. He just got his arm gouged open, for god’s sake.] I’m not, I am not giving up on him.
[Back to Bertholdt; furious, desperate.] If he’s an illusion then he’s yours. Why is he like this to you?
no subject
[She's probably right. Of course, Bertholdt never did see Armin quite this way-- The thought dies before it can complete itself. Upon looking at Armin again, he's young, just the way Bertholdt left him; longer hair, a smaller build, more intense trembling.]
I...I don't know, I...
[Armin never quite seemed scared of Bertholdt when he was still alive, nor did he ever show quite so much mourning, but...Of course, it makes sense, when you think about it for more than a few seconds...
[His jaw clenches. He feels like he might cry himself.]
I'm the reason he's like this...
[The reason for Armin's pain and grief. The reason for everyone's pain and grief. The reason that humanity has been driven right up to the brink of extinction. The reason there's famine and shortage inside the interior. The reason Armin's grandfather is dead; he and countless others. Armin grieves by pure virtue of Bertholdt's existence.
[He feels sorry for him. He isn't supposed to - he never was - but...he does.]
You must know, right? It's our fault. [He, Reiner, and Annie.] All of it.
[A moment later, however, desperate:]
But we didn't-- We had no choice. We thought we were doing the right thing. We didn't know...
no subject
[Something changed. Armin changed. It confirms the illusion and it’s a stab through the gut. Is the real him trapped—in that shifting body, somewhere else?
[Bertholdt pulls her attention back. He looks like he’s going to cry. Guilt claws its way in; the pieces haven’t quite settled, to Aubrey, but the outline is faint. He was a titan. Armin ate him, had to eat him. And, nine years ago…
[He’s so human, for a monster. They all are.]
[There’s a temptation for the anger to grab that admission, claw at it til there’s nothing left. How could anyone think attacking a town was the right thing? Even if they were young—
[“We didn’t know.” And the past can’t be changed. No matter whose fault....]
[Aubrey is silent for a while. The fury dissipates in a figurative steam; she looks at Bertholdt, past him.
[It’s all so goddamn sad.]
It’s already happened. [Finally, she sounds distant again. Not entirely, not dead yet. But not quite here.]
no subject
I know. I know that.
[At this, he lets himself fall back into a seated position on the roof, immediately pulling his knees up to his chest again.]
I'd accepted it. I really had.
[Reiner, on the other hand...
[A shadow appears behind Bertholdt without him noticing; his friend, but older, kneeling on the roof with a rifle in his mouth. Bertholdt continues, unaware.]
I had no choice but to live with myself, you know? Even up until the end, I could tell myself they were all Devils if I tried, but...
[He shakes his head. Reiner cocks the gun. Bertholdt still doesn't notice.]
It wasn't true...They were our friends, we...We came to love them...
[His voice sounds quiet, broken.]
How couldn't we...?
[Another shadow; this one should be unmistakable to Aubrey. Eren Jaeger, removing the rifle, holding out his hand, pulling Reiner to his feet. A ghostly echo makes Bertholdt turn his head:]
"We are the same."
[The shadows dissipate. Bertholdt's eyes are wide.]
Wh-what...what the hell? Reiner!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)