If the World was Ending

Eren's pov:

After the gunshot went off, everything had went black. Like I had fallen into a raging river, the freezing current kept pulling me further and further down until there was no hope of ever resurfacing. I felt the chill of the water seeping into my already cool skin.

Was I dead? If I was dead I wouldn't be able to feel, would I?

The echo of the shot faded away, leaving a loud ringing that made me want to cover my ears. My body felt heavy, but I knew that I was floating. Warmth surrounded me and started calming the waves into gentle splashes. The cold was still there, but I no longer felt like I was drowning.

There was no white light or numbness. I knew I wasn't dead when voices started arguing and my body got moved around. My head bobbed in and out of the water, only hearing jumbled words and phrases that made little sense.

Shoes crunched on gravel and then quieted to the occasional rustling of leaves. Another, more muffled, shot sounded in front of me, making me flinch internally. But the shot wasn't for me. What was going on?

I was aware to an extent, but I couldn't feel my body or open my eyes. A coldness was stuck on me, freezing me out even with the warmth that was surrounding me yet again. Maybe the chill was dulling my senses and keeping me from feeling my body.

With the pain I remember feeling before I passed out, I can't help but be thankful. The pain left no area untouched and I knew I had broken bones. Grisha had broken my bones and turned my insides into mush. A bullet would have been a mercy.

A soft, feminine voice was speaking in a whisper to someone who was also whispering in a low mumble. I could tell that their conversation was less than friendly by the tension in the air and the silence afterward. My body was slowly swaying in, what I just now realized to be, someone's arms.

I felt their warmth leave me and my body meet something soft, my body sinking into it. When I felt large, calloused hands pulling at my clothes, I started to panic. Did Grisha shoot Levi and take me back? Who is touching me?

No, the hands were too careful and gentle to be Grisha's. They carefully felt along my body, turning me over to repeat the process. Feeling was starting to return to me, static crackling through all my aching limbs. My face was starting to burn, but my torso was cold.

I felt water touch my face and thought I was drowning again, but realized it was damp not dripping. The cool rag was carefully wiping away the dried blood I could feel caked on my face. White, hot pain slashed across my face and I heard an audible crack, making me groan.

I was able to open my eyes to slits, but then the pain pulled me back under. It was too blurry to see anything, but it didn't look like a forest or the metal room. Sleep found my injured body and pulled me into its deep reprieve.

————————————————————————

Hunger and anger swept through my small body like a tornado. The pit of my stomach felt hollow, like I hadn't eaten in weeks. The aching of my body wasn't half as bad as the hunger gnawing at my insides. All I knew was that the cold that was slowly climbing up my neck wouldn't go away until I ate something.

My eyes twitched until I was finally able to force them open. Everything was dull and spotty, but I could see that I was in a dark room. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. All of my thoughts were centered on one thing—food.

I tried to sit up, but something pulled tightly at my arms, keeping me from sitting up fully. Tugging roughly at the rope, I ignore the blood that was slowly seeping from my reopened wounds and continue to thrash against my restraints. If I don't get out before Grisha gets back he'll kill me.

I bite my lip to hold in my scared whimpers, but stop when my sharpened teeth tear into my bottom lip. Geez, did Grisha turn me into a vampire? For fuck's sake, really?! This isn't some satire of I Am Legend.

My tongue runs carefully over my canines to find out that they are indeed sharper. Not like fangs, but they're pointier than usual. A shadow appears next to me and I bare my teeth, angrily snapping my jaw at my captor.

"Eren?"

Do I know the stranger? I'm hungry. The stranger smells delicious—like smoked meat during a barbecue. My stomach growled and I felt my mouth water, itching to taste, to bite. A shaky hand reaches toward me and I snarl, but they pull back before I can bite.

"Oh, god..." a soft voice whispers from my other side.

I twist as much as I can and look at the owner of a voice that I knew well.

"...tra." My voice comes out as a broken growl that I can't even recognize.

Her smell drift over to me and I stop thrashing. Her scent of cinnamon and pine has always been very calming for me. She reaches a hand out, but stops before her hand can touch my own. Does she not want to touch me?

The cold starts to disappear and my hunger turns into a dull ache in my stomach. I was still hungry, but it no longer controlled me. My pants evened out and I took a steadying breath to further calm myself.

Do you know what's wrong with me? Of course not. That was a dumb question, I'm sorry. I don't even know what's going on so how are you supposed to?

"Petra? Is that you?"

I maneuver my hand, palm up, so she can interlace our fingers. Not like in an Arkansas way, but a brother-sister way. I mean, no judgment, but I'm personally not into that.

"Are you alright, Eren?"

My stomach growls and makes its presence known again. It feels like someone is continuously punching me in the gut, making me feel nauseous and starved.

"'M hungry. Where are we?"

A granola bar gets waved in front of my face by the other person. If Petra trusts them, I do as well. I take a tentative bite of the bar, but instantly gag at the bland, flavorless shit that I'm forced to chew and swallow. My stomach complains and I feel it start to churn unsteadily.

I whimper and turn to Petra, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

She pulls a bucket from somewhere and places it in my lap before rubbing my back. Bile and the small bite of food I had comes up and I spit it into the bucket. It was less like throwing up and more like coughing it up. I rested my damp forehead against the rim of the bucket and let the tears drip onto the blanket.

I'm so hungry, but both times I've eaten I've gotten sick. First the applesauce Historia gave me and now the granola bar. This has Grisha's name all over it. Did he inject me with something that wouldn't let me eat so I'd starve to death or something?

"You good, brat?"

Levi? How did I not recognize his voice sooner? Maybe it's because he decided he wanted nothing to do with me and I tried to forget him. I turn away from the sound of his voice and slink closer to Petra.

Levi's pov:

His eyes were just glowing. Not in the "I just fell in love" way, but they looked luminescent. His usual cyan had paled and turned milky, blazing brightly with hunger. He had tried to bite me and I thought he had turned, but when Petra spoke he snapped out of it.

I was anxious with how close Eren was to her, but he showed no aggression towards her. The strange glow had faded from his eyes and they had returned to the beautiful eyes I was familiar with. His stomach was growling insistently and he'd occasionally bare his teeth when it happened.

"Petra, go clean out the bucket."

She left without argument, leaving us alone. Eren wouldn't look at me and he was trembling slightly.

"Does anything hurt?"

"My stomach..."

"Can I take a look?" I ask quietly, earning a hesitant nod from him.

I pull his comforter down to his waist and push his shirt up to just below his pecks. The grey veins that had started to fade were now pitch black, actually moving under his pale skin. Fascinating... I trace a finger over one of the marks and feel the icy chill it leaves on my skin.

"Please stop..."

I look up at the sound of his gritted teeth and meet those strange milky blue eyes. They are beautiful in their own way, but they remind me too much of Hitch's as the infection spread. His jaw locks at the force of his gritted teeth and I move back when one of his hands tries to claw at my neck.

"Eren, what is wrong?"

By now, I'm starting to freak out and am surveying the room for Armin. I make eye contact with Historia and Ymir who are watching us silently. They stand up and make their way over, stepping around our sleeping friends.

"What did Grisha do to him? Historia, Ymir, do you guys know?"

Petra starts to walk back over, but I shake my head and shoo her off. She is too trusting of Eren and right now he isn't himself.

"He turned..." Historia mumbles, putting a hand over her mouth to muffle her sob.

Ymir puts an arm around her waist and hugs her from behind while still watching Eren thrash. There is no surprise or confusion as she watches. She whispers something in the blonde's ear and Historia nods and goes back to their corner of the room.

"Get me a knife and some bandages, then make yourself scarce."

I go to argue, but she sends me a glare. "Do you want me to help him or not?!" She whisper-yells impatiently.

So I hand her what she asked for and go over to Petra, dragging her outside.

"It happened again."

It wasn't a question, but I nodded. "Ymir said she could help, but only if I left."

She nods and pats the spot next to her on the raised curb. I sit down with a sigh and take in the sun that is just starting to rise. The sky is a pale blue and the clouds are light pink and purple, like cotton candy. I was usually asleep around this time, so I rarely saw the sunrise.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Petra whispers.

I hum in response and lean back on my elbows, enjoying the gentle breeze that's running through my hair.

"It's hard to believe that beauty still exists in a world like this."

She turns to me with a sad grin and shakes her head. I feel her tiny hand enclose around mine.

"There is more beauty than you think, you just have to be willing to look."

I wasn't stupid. I knew that we weren't talking about the sunrise anymore, but she was right. Eren was this beautiful thing, still untainted by hatred and cynicism even after what he went through. He was beauty and I was the unloveable beast.

We would never work out. I would be afraid that my negativity and hatred would rub off on him, destroying the only pure thing left. Though he might not even be pure after what happened. I still can't get his voice out of my head, telling—no begging me to end him.

"He's going to need you and you need him too. Hange told me that you panicked when you were checking his injuries."

Stupid Fujoshi spy! Why can't she just bury her nose in one of her yaoi comics instead of my business?!

"We all care about—"

"He'll be fine for now. Tell me if he has another attack." Ymir interrupts monotonously.

Her eyes give away nothing to what she was doing to "help" Eren. She looked paler than before and had dark circles under her eyes, like dealing with Eren had drained her.

"What do you mean by 'attack'? Because that didn't look like a panic attack." Petra's eyes are glaring into the brunette fiercely, but she pays her no mind.

"He was drugged and that drug was attacking him. If he starts to act up again or says he's hungry, tie him up and get me."

And then she leaves us alone, a million questions left unanswered. Those "attacks", or whatever they are, made him act aggressively, so I understand why we'd have to tie him up, but why get her? How can she help?

We sit in silence for a few minutes until going back inside to check on Eren. Even from a distance, I can see his pale face and trembling shoulders, making me rush to his side. Curse my fucking short legs! There, I admitted that I am kinda short!

The ropes were removed from his arms and ankles, but it didn't look like he had moved. His blue-green eyes had a far away look in them as he stared past us blankly. What did Ymir do?! I move to go get her and force her to explain, but Petra shakes her head.

"You need to check on Eren. I'll go talk to her." she whispers.

Eren doesn't even shift when I sit on the corner of his bed, eyes still staring off into space. I reach over and grab his warm hand. Relief floods through me at that. He's not cold anymore. He flinches at the contact and blinks a few times before turning to me.

"Are you alright?" I keep my voice soft and calm so as not to startled him.

He doesn't answer and stares at our interlaced fingers with an unreadable look. When I go to remove my hand, thinking he didn't like the contact, he tightened his grip. I scoot closer until we're sitting cross-legged, knee-to-knee, and grab his other hand.

It hurts seeing him flinch at every touch, every movement, but I'm glad he doesn't push me away. I need to touch him in some way, so that I know that he's actually alive. Though I never voiced it, I was scared that his kidnappers had killed him and that we were going after a body.

"I was worried. What happened, brat?"

He flinches at my question and starts shaking with tears rolling silently down his cheeks. I let one of his hands go and lightly cup his cheek, wiping away the tears as they fell. And he might be in shock, because he didn't flinch, but I liked to think that maybe, just maybe, he trusted me and felt safe around me.

I haven't been the best person to him, but I would never harm him while he was in a state like this.

"This must be a dream. You're being nice to me." His bad attempt at a joke made me smile.

Even now, when he looked close to having a panic attack, he was trying to lighten the mood. I knew he was too strong to let Grisha win. He might be staying together only to spite his father, but at least he hasn't broken yet.

"Well, I can assure you that it isn't a dream. Eren, I am so sorry for the way I treated you. Your father is a liar, so I shouldn't have believed a word he said."

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, his brown hair tickling my neck.

"He wasn't lying. Not fully, at least. I'm sorry."he whispers, before I feel more tears soak the fabric of my shirt.

I want to hold him and console him, but I don't want my touch to trigger a panic attack.

"Can you hold me?"

He jumps at the initial contact, but let's me pick him up and place him in my lap. His arms wrap loosely around my shoulders while mine wrap around his thin waist. The position is so familiar and normal that it makes my heart pang in my chest.

I used to hold him like this all the time, whether it was because he was panicking or just to offer comfort. He was slimmer and more pale than before, but he still looked beautiful. And he fit perfectly against me, arms around each other and hearts matching in beat.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

I felt his breath against my neck when he yawned, so I laid us down on our sides. He curled up against my chest and, though I'm the shorter between us, he looked so small—fragile. Holding him felt like holding a doll. You could hold it, but you had to be careful not to crush it while doing so.

His soft breathing caressed the skin beneath the shirt covering my chest. One of my arms was resting under his head and I had my other arm resting over his hip. It was nice having him in my arms again, even if he never wanted more than a friend. I would take anything he gave me, regardless of my own wants.

Petra was watching us, leaning against the wall we had occupied a few hours ago. I had so many questions without answers, so many unknown variables. What drugs did Grisha pump into his son?

The milky blue eyes and black veins popped into my head. Did that mean he was infected? Ymir said that it was just an "attack" because of the drugs, but I wasn't so sure. Eren shifts and looks up at me tiredly.

"If the world was ending you'd come over, right? You'd come over and you'd stay the night. And there wouldn't be a reason why..we'd even have to say goodbye..." he sings softly.

"I didn't know you could sing." I say with equal softness.

He blushes and nods before hiding his face back in my chest. I don't know if he meant to, but he had successfully calmed my mind. Exhaustion was starting to make my eyes heavy.

Just him being alive and healing was enough for me. Answers could wait for now. I tighten my arm around him and shut my eyes, letting myself drift to sleep with the boy I cared for, asleep in my arms.