please me ; eren yeager x oc

awake

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as everyone sat huddled in the dimly lit hospital waiting room, each wrestling with their own storm of worry and regret. The fluorescent lights cast a cold, pale glow, only adding to the eerie tension that gripped them all. Time felt warped, stretching each minute into eternity as they waited, every tick of the clock a haunting reminder of how long they'd been there.

Eren sat slouched in his chair, head bowed and hands covering his face, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice. He hadn't moved since they arrived, barely looking at anyone else, his jaw clenched in frustration and fear. His knuckles were white, gripping the armrests as if letting go would somehow make everything even worse. Sasha, meanwhile, sat next to him, red-rimmed eyes wide with exhaustion. She was visibly shaken, her legs bouncing as she fidgeted anxiously, trying to distract herself from the suffocating worry gnawing at her.

The doors finally creaked open, and a doctor stepped in, his expression grave but soft. The group looked up, their hearts leaping into their throats, hoping for some kind of miracle.

"She's stable," the doctor said quietly, his voice a mix of professionalism and compassion. "She'll pull through, but she's weak—very weak. Her body's been through a lot, and the recovery process is going to be long. She's...not out of the woods yet, but she'll make it."

The relief in the room was palpable, though it was mingled with guilt and shame. Eren let out a shaky sigh, finally letting his tense shoulders drop. "Thank god..." he whispered, voice raw with emotion. But the relief was only momentary, quickly overshadowed by the weight of everything that had led up to this point.

As the doctor turned to leave, the group sat in silence, each person reflecting on what they could've done differently, how they could've helped sooner, or been more present. The reality of what Emma had been going through hit them all hard, their collective guilt settling in heavy waves.

Armin, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, leaned forward, breaking the silence with a shaky voice. "How did it get this bad?" he whispered, almost to himself. His face was etched with regret, his eyes staring blankly at the floor.

"We were right here," Sasha murmured, wiping away another tear. "All of us. How did we not see it?"

Jean rubbed his temples, his usual composure crumbling as he shook his head. "We did see it. We just...didn't want to believe it was as bad as it was."

Eren's eyes flickered with anger and frustration. "She tried to hide it. And we let her," he muttered, his voice thick with a mix of sadness and self-blame.

Historia reached out to place a hand on his arm. "It's not your fault, Eren. She was going through something...something we didn't understand. But now, we can be there for her, even if it's hard."

He pulled his arm away, unable to accept any comfort right now. "I don't even know what she's going to be like when she wakes up...or if she'll even want us around."

The weight of his words settled over everyone. They all knew that Emma wouldn't just "snap back" to who she was before. This trauma, the months of spiraling, would leave scars deeper than any of them could see.

---

Later that evening, they were finally allowed to see her, one by one. Eren was the last to enter, feeling his heart hammering painfully in his chest as he pushed open the door to her room. The dim light cast shadows across her face, highlighting just how fragile she looked. Her once vibrant skin was pale and gaunt, her cheeks sunken. She lay motionless, her breathing shallow but steady.

He walked to her side, his movements slow and tentative, as if any sudden motion might shatter her. He took a seat, his hands trembling as he reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. She looked so different, and yet she was still Emma—his Emma.