Never let me go

16

A girl huddled alone in the dim light inside a dark hallway. Her body was still visibly strong, even though a look of slow decay had begun to manifest itself in the slight sagging of her trousers, and the dark circles beneath her eyes. Pale and saddened, she sat as still as a statue. The girl was waiting to fall asleep again, hoping that her dreams would bring her 'another'. Another day, another moment, another chance to fix what had gone wrong.

"Iris?" She felt something against her thigh, perhaps the toe of a boot. It nudged her insistently. "What the hell are you doing there?" The girl recognized that loud, abrasive tone of voice.

The daylight stung her eyes as she opened them, making her blink repeatedly to keep them from tearing up. The thundering inside her skull was just about bearable, but she knew her visitor's loud voice would make it worse. She was sitting down with her knees drawn up against her chest, her side leaning against a closed wooden door. Her buttocks felt numb against the chilly floor. How long had she been here, and where had she been before that? The girl could not remember. But she was back outside this door again, his door.

Her eyes stared up at the familiar visage, seeing him but staring right through him at the same time.

"Get up!" Loud, insistent, but also pleading words seemed to echo inside her aching head. He went to one knee, grabbed the collar of her shirt, and shook her. Her head bobbed back and forth with the motion, until her eye caught sight of the fabric he was holding. Muddy green.

"Let go," she croaked, her voice coming out as nothing but a dry hiss.

"Is that all you have to say to me after I came out here for you? Let go?!" His eyes went to the shirt, studying it for a moment. He let her go; whipping his hands away as if he had realized that he was gripping a piece of rancid meat. "He is a traitor, a murderer, and he's gone. Accept it."

His words just washed over her, like waves of dark water. He would leave soon, and she would slide back into her stupor while the minutes and the hours melted away around her like the winter snows under the warm spring sunlight.

She heard a 'crack' as the palm of his hand crashed against her cheek. The slap drove a thousand thorny splinters into the soft tissue of her brain, and a throaty cry of pain escaped her lips. Her hands went up to form a shield in case he would strike her again.

"I'm sorry," he said in a small voice. She heard a soft thud as he sat back heavily on his ass, and then came what could be the sound of a hand being run through short, ashy brown hair. "Things are really messed up out there. I don't know what you did to Levi, but if I don't bring you back for him it's my ass on the line, and he's one creepy dude.. I really don't wanna be the one to tell him you've decided to sit here and rot." A 'thump' followed his words, the sound of knuckles against old wooden flooring.

"We're hiding Eren and Historia – Ah perhaps you don't know about that yet. Christa, we're hiding Eren and Christa. We need you." He paused, and the words hung between them like old cobwebs. "Come on Iris, I need you. Get up." He shuffled, got back up on his feet. She blinked, and her hands shielding her face fell. Her head tilted back, and strands of hair fell away from her forehead like a curtain drawn aside.

"You need my help," she rasped. Her voice was dry and brittle, threatening to break if she tried to raise it. Jean was right; the world was a mess out there. There were so many things she needed to know, too much she couldn't understand.

"Yes." He extended his hand to her, and she took it. As he pulled her to her feet he shot her a doubtful look. "He said you were injured, where's your sling?"

"Did Levi tell you he was the one who almost ripped my arm off?" she retorted, not without a hint of anger. Jean had clearly figured this out for himself, although he made no attempt to answer her.