abandonhumanity | PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

I’d do it again.

Shut up. I’m crashing this car.

You don’t get it, Bow!

[His voice breaks. He’s human again.]

H-he looked me in my face.

[No longer human.]

He told me what he did.

[Human again, whimpering.]

I was right. A-all these years I was right.

Don’t call me that right n— Do you even hear yourself?!

[It’s a blessing and a curse that the lake isn’t far. Mostly a curse, right now. Too close, too soon.]

You got your will to live back after throwing away your future. Unbelievable.

I don't want a future. I never did.

[Maybe once. Maybe with Aubrey. Maybe for a moment here or there, when he let his sentimental nature get the best of him. Most of the time, though...]

I wanted him dead.

Ever since the moment I saw him, I wanted him dead.

[This wasn't a crime of passion.]

[“I never did.” Kick her in the face, why doesn’t he.]

Well, congratulations. You did it. Want a fucking trophy?

[There’s no effort to park; she pulls up close as possible, just past the trees, and stalls. Eren should be able to hear it, if he’s listening.]

I’m here. I’m not chasing you.

[If she doesn’t see his ugly mug within half a minute she’s chasing him down and dragging him back by force.]

[The way that Eren meanders into view may make it look as though he doesn't care - about what he's done, about Aubrey, about making any sort of escape. Where will they go from here? His brain hasn't quite caught up to that concern yet. He's got a cigarette in one hand, still smoking. He takes a long drag and then flicks it out into the darkness.

[He gets into her car. His jacket is pulled tightly around him. There's no shirt underneath. His hands aren't stained with red, but there are traces of it in his nailbeds, the spaces between his fingers. He didn't do a thorough job, trying to get himself clean with only lake water. Couldn't really dredge up the motivation, you know? In fact, there are little speckles or smears of blood pretty much anywhere you look, if only you look for more than a couple of seconds.

[He buckles himself in. He never does that. Then, he takes his hair out of the tie, shakes it out, fingers through it, puts it back up - as casual as anything. His ears are ringing loudly.]

What?

[It's unclear if Aubrey actually said anything. His head is swimming. All at once, he looks like he's about to throw up. His voice comes out wobbly.]

I need to lie down...

[Aubrey hasn’t said anything. She sees the blood. She thinks she could kill him. Both of them. Right now. Slam the gas, wrap around a trunk, sink for good.]

[Eren buckles in. Eren fixes his hair. Eren looks ill.]

[The ride resumes very, very slowly. Movement for its own sake.]

[Aubrey stares at the road like a deer in the headlights. She hasn’t changed since yesterday, a dead ringer for having gone comatose on the nearest soft surface at the first opportunity; nothing new when Eren’s over, really. Wasn’t asleep for long. The drive is straight until it can’t be, and then she turns with no warning in whatever direction.]

[Belatedly, she hangs up the phone.]

You buckled up.

[That’s new.]

[Eren's head drops like it's too heavy to hold up. He observes the belt strapped over his chest.]

Oh...

[He stays frozen - awake, but limp - for a few moments, then idly unbuckles the seatbelt.]

Sorry.

[He's a million miles away.]

[There’s a temptation to speak; they’re too distant. Aubrey reaches over and buckles him back in. It’s a one-handed, almost absent motion. His jacket gets caught in it.

[Oh well.]

[Of all things, she’s vaguely annoyed by the thought of scrubbing blood out of the whole seat.]

What happened to your shirt.

[At this, the very physical memory of warm, wet cloth clinging to his skin. It makes his stomach churn all the worse, but only until he remembers the look on Kruger's face when he first plunged the knife in.]

I left it in the car. Blood...

The jacket's clean. Mostly.

[...]

Where are we going?

[So it’s six feet under and counting.

[Fantastic.]

[They’re talking now. Is that better?]

I don’t know. Away from there.

[Her mental map of the area is, irritatingly, fairly wide. Being stuck here for years on end, not to mention those three-hour trips, tends to do that. Might run out of gas before they can actually get lost. Stupid.]

[She considers asking how long he’s planned this. If anything anyone did, this weekend or last or ever, could have changed it. The answers might make her throw up, so she doesn’t.]

[Let him suffocate in silence, for a while.]

[He doesn't quite suffocate. As with the last several hours, Eren's body can't decide whether its in fight mode, flight mode, or complete torpor. Spikes of panic light his chest up like a Molotov while waves of rage resharpen his focus; with these, deep pits of exhaustion that make it hard to keep his eyes open, bubbling nausea that makes him want to put his head between his knees. He feels high. He feels sick. He feels dead. He feels awake. He feels outside his body, floating above the lake, watching the car sink.]

[His head is pressed up against the cool glass of the passenger side window, eyes dully reflected back at him, watching nothing. His voice comes out distant, quiet...]

Take us to our spot...

I wanna go.

[That damn spot.]

[There’s a reason Aubrey’s resisted so feverishly. Her resolve wouldn’t have survived. But now…?

[Now…]

[The next turn is deliberate.]

[Sorry, Armin.]

[Before long, Eren should know the street.]

[Eren knows the street; fat oak trees and shabby brick houses, only every other streetlamp illuminated, flickering. He sits up straighter in his seat, turning to face out the window properly, even going so far as to press one hand to the glass.

[His breath hitches in his chest. He's been trying all weekend to get Aubrey to budge, but when he left her house last night, he was certain he'd never see their place again. He's meant to be dead right now.

[A thought, passing, but electric: It would be the perfect place to die together, if it ever came to that.

[Of course, it won't come to that. It can't come to that. Not for Aubrey. Maybe still for Eren. "Why should I have to die?" But he still doesn't see a future. As they turn onto the dirt road leading to their haven, he still feels as though he's about to see it for the last time.

[He couldn't die without seeing her one more time. Maybe that's what stopped him.]

[It’s amazing how well their thoughts line up sometimes. Talk about a spark…]

[A car can only get so close; there’s nothing but moonlight to illuminate their true path. But they know it by heart, light be damned. Further through the trees, stones over a stream, so far past the undergrowth even stray dogs give up the chase. Under that biggest tree, initials carved for eternity—the perfect place to hide a body or two.

[“Ugh, Eren, don’t joke about stuff like that! This is our spot, okay?” An insistent, tapping point at the heart their names are bound in. “The only people hiding here should be us.”]

[Ha. Haaahh…]

[Aubrey doesn’t move for a while, after turning the keys. She wants to go home. She wonders who will find their last stupid text exchanges, spats and hearts and all. What a mess.]

[A morbid curiosity, words for their own sake:]
How’d you do it.

[Eren presses his fingers against the cool wood of their tree, running them along the trunk until they find the divots of he and Aubrey's carved initials. A warmth floods through him that he hasn't felt in years. This is home. His childhood house has been demolished. The town itself feels cursed and half-real. But this spot - this spot, always this spot.

[He barely murmurs as he talks, but it's so quiet that it doesn't matter; it never has. They've spent countless hours whispering here.]

I stabbed him.

[His fingers trace back over the crude shapes.]

A lot. Lost count...

He died fast, but I didn't stop.

[Shouldn’t have asked.]

Do you… still have it…?

[She sounds ill.]

[Eren shakes his head.]

No.

I put it in the car with him.

You stupid bastard.

[Aubrey sits down. She rubs her face. Crosses her arms over it. There’s no waking up from this.]

He was in the car. You put the body, in the car, with the wea— You drove the car with his body in it.

[It’s funny. It’s almost funny. It is impossible to laugh.]

You really thought this through....

[Finally, something to his tone other than distance; it's impatience - a fine edge.]

I didn't plan on living this much longer than he did.

[There's a pause.]

I needed to see you again.

[Shame the finest edge they have is verbal.]

Okay, well. You got your fucking trophy.

[She should really be more careful right now. If his job truly is done, that’s a warning…]

Anything else…?

[All at once, he can't stand the thought of Aubrey being mad at him. It makes him feel frenzied, though he holds it in - he tries. His hand starts flexing, anxious. He's pacing.]

Don't-- Don't look at me like I'm a monster - I am not a monster. He was a fucking monster.

I’m not looking at you, dipshit. [But she does, increasingly, sound mad at him.]

I don’t care who the monster is. I just— I have only ever wanted you to live. [I want you to be mine. Not some cult’s poster child. Not the face on the morning news. Not his, not hers; mine. And despite it all, Aubrey would like to live.

[Yet she still can’t face him. She tells herself it’s because his voice, his steps, agitated, are cue enough.] Why is that so difficult?

Because I don't want that. [He's muttering again, even as he continues to pace. His hand flexes anxiously again, again, again.]

You know how I feel, Bow. Fuck.

Every day I wake up dead. Every day I wake up dead. I'm sick of it. This was supposed to be the end.

[But he needed to see her. He needed to see her.

[Slowly, the pacing stops.]

I always told myself I was living for this day, but it isn't true...

I lived for you, Bow. Even now, I had to see you...

I couldn't do it. I had to see you.

PSL / MEME CONTINUATION

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

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)