[Aubrey’s not quite aware of when Eren’s crying shifts, either. It’s… disorienting, to be back here. And even so she knows it’s not true; the toys usually strewn through the grass, variously bright and sunbleached, are nowhere to be seen. The red picnic blanket isn’t here; its owner, she’s not here, despite the sound.

[A small cruelty in its own right, to float the faceless possibility and then silence that, too.
[Aubrey doesn’t dwell on it.]

[Besides, Eren’s here, still. Good. She wasn’t trying to end his own memory so suddenly, much as it taunted him.... His voice takes her back to the moment, and its weariness twists her heart all the more.]

[“You saved me.
“Thank you…”

[Aubrey doesn’t have words.

[Well, obviously: “I should be thanking you.” She never did, for all he kept reminding her. If he’d died, maybe she never would have. The overwhelm, belated and unwelcome, lingers at the edge of her consciousness; in fighting that off, the thanks gets trapped, too.

[After all that, and everything before… for that to be the first thing he says to her.... The look Aubrey gives Eren is pained. His eyes are still glistening, and she can’t take it.]

I should check your… [Snapping back, almost, but it’s not her reserve to own. The steam, finally, catches her attention fully anyway.] …wound....