It has been so despairingly long since Annie Leonhart stepped foot into reality. She's been encased in her crystal for the last five years - the endless nothingness of peace, at long last, with her wish of being reunited in with her father playing in a loop in her head. Happy may be too generous a word to describe what she's finally achieved, but at the very least she's been living out her fantasy; a controlled version of the afterlife, sweet death.

Except, she isn't dead. She's alive, and she's apparently needed, because in this life it seems like every other person fucking needs something from her.

Annie.

Within the recesses of her self-manufactured illusion, she hears his voice calling out to her, over and over again, absolutely maddening.

Annie, Annie.

What do you want? What could be so important that you won't shut it?

Wake up, Annie.

Leave me alone!

Annie awoke not out of righteousness, but because she wanted to shut him up once and for all.

When she comes to, she's on her knees, skin punctured by shards of her broken, crystalline prison. Her vision is blurry, made even more challenging as loose, blonde strands splay in front of her eyes. It takes a while for the fog to clear, thereafter she concludes that escape is impossible for she is surrounded. Not by allies, but by the very same people she could still kill. She recognises their uniforms. Well, she's wearing one herself.

Predator; she hasn't forgotten what she is and she hopes for their sakes that they haven't, either.

Standing at the front and centre of the Survey Corps is Eren Yeager: older, his face boasting newly angular features, and the indomitable fire she remembers fondly burning brightly in his eyes now blazing brilliantly enough to singe her. There is a striking maturity about him. Forget the evolution in his height or built, or the fact that his hair is long enough to tie (he has, actually, in alarmingly similar fashion to how she herself does).

It is his soulless stare that sends an electric thrill up and down Annie's spine.

What used to be innocent green is now a hundred shades of flickering emerald. Ominously deep, Annie feels a dangerously dark curiosity, as if she's looking into a bottomless well of murky water. Unnerving, intimidating, belittling; he taunts her to challenge him just so he could drown her and enjoy it.

'Oi, Annie.' Eren greets her. 'We've been waiting.'

Annie says nothing.

His voice is deeper. How interesting.

'It's in your best interest to follow my command.' he continues. 'If you transform into a Titan, so will I - and we both know how that turned out last time.'

When ordered by Eren to stand up and follow his lead, Annie gives no resistance. The last thing she wants to do is put herself in a situation that will only secure her imprisonment, or worse, torture. Tough as she might be, she's still human. Pain remains a strong repellant for crime. So she swallows her pride when her hands are shoved behind her back and then shackled. The chains are weighty - nothing Annie can't handle. Actually, she's relieved to finally get some exercise.

As the militia approaches ground level, Annie is taken into the clinic within the Military Police headquarters. Hange (who Annie is surprised to learn is the new commander) instructs the doctors to take samples of her blood. As the procedure takes place, the subject is strapped down to a chair with unfamiliar faces in familiar uniforms watching her. She doesn't get recognise anyone, save for Hange.

Just how many people died?

Where are Mikasa and Armin?

Reiner and Bertholdt?

Ten vials of blood leave Annie's body in under two minutes.

'You'll feel lightheaded.' Hange says.

Annie shrugs the warning off. Does she have a choice?

Suck it up, buttercup.

Nevertheless, true enough, the blonde Eldian struggles to walk after the doctors encourage her to her feet. Her escorts - soldiers of the corps - are less than forgiving. They urge her forward, poking at her with the hilts of their blades to push her to walk faster. In the past, Annie wouldn't have thought twice about fighting back.

Currently, Annie is too fatigued to give a damn.

She is shown to her room, which she's told will be locked from the outside. Upon entering, the first thing she notices is that there were no windows. No reason to complain, though. She has everything she technically needs; her own bathroom with a bath and shower, a large bed, and a vanity. Huh. She's never had a vanity before.

'Whatever.' Annie mutters to herself. She doesn't care for that right now. All she wants, more than anything, is to take a hot shower.

While the general population within the walled Paradis empire showers once in three days, Annie can't go a day without one... Or two: once in the morning, and once in the evening. When the warmth cascades down her bare body, she sighs in relief. At last, she can feel clean again. After all the dirt, grime, and darkness she's had to hold onto, living as an imposter... At the very least, her truth is out in the open now. Whatever punishment would be bestowed upon her, she could take. So long as before she runs out of time, she makes it back home to her father.

Annie gets out of the shower and wraps her body in the only clean article of makeshift clothing she can find: a towel. A fuzzy, white towel that barely goes past her hips. Her next step is to tie her hair up. Then, she's lost for a while. Eventually, she sits in front of the vanity, where her reflection startles her. She hasn't aged a single day. Dare she say she even appears more well rested.

What being knocked out for five years can do for you!

What should I do now? she pondered. If I try to escape, I'll probably be eaten. It doesn't seem like they want to interrogate me... Or kill me, or they would have done so already. So, why...?

Just then, Eren barges into her room, interrupting her thoughts.

Annie is shaken, but she refuses to let her companion know that. And he really wouldn't have known, had it not been for the terror reflected in her eyes. In his arms, he carries some clothes - for Annie, no doubt.

'How are you doing?' he demands, not asks, as he throws the clothes onto her bed. Everything that tumbles out of his mouth now always comes across as an order. Annie doesn't recall him being this way when they were younger. It's as if he has a completely new personality. Perhaps Eren had turned out this way because he had acquired too much power at too young of an age without enough time to learn how to wield it.

'I'm tired.'

'You've been asleep for five years. You don't get to be tired.'

Annie doesn't reply. She just observes him, drinking in this new image of him. He looks stronger, more powerful. Like the part of the human bone that calcifies into a sharper form, sturdier form after being broken. He is a domineering sight to behold: tall, lean, and muscular in his black pants and coat. He could take her on - not that she would make it easy for him. But she is in no shape to fight him right now.

'What are you looking at?'

Still, Annie says nothing. Not even as he saunters over to her, zones in on her like she is his prey. Then, he's in front of her - unmoving, deathly still.

Is he going to strangle her here? Eat her? She has enough time to bite her hand and assume her Titan form. And if he is still the Eren she knew (unlikely), then he won't risk the lives of the people in the complex. He would at least try and take her outside. Maybe he's going to interrogate her? Would he really do so, without any militia to witness her spilling Marley's greatest secrets? Had they not already figured out-

Before her thoughts can race too far, Eren reaches out for her.

Annie growls.

'What are you doing, you suicidal bastard?'

Eren is undeterred by her harsh tone. He plants a palm firmly on her bare, right shoulder. The heat of his hand is intimidating. True to the warrior that she is, Annie doesn't break a sweat even though she knows more than anyone that she's at a disadvantage. Her guard increases when he leans in, his face edging close to the dip of her neck. As she stares at the mirror, what she sees is her own stone-face right next to Eren's. His gaze is hazy, like he's daydreaming. Obviously, he doesn't think she's much of a threat.

There's no real bite behind the frost of her eyes - only fear.

Annie presumes that Eren can probably sense that.

'Looks good on you.'

'... What?'

'The towel.' he gives her shoulder a friendly squeeze. 'I've never seen you in anything other than your training uniform... Or a hoodie.'

Annie feels the heat rush to her face. What the fuck? What the fuck did he just say to her? She suddenly feels very self-conscious, breaking her stone composure to cross her arms protectively over her chest. It takes her a while, but when she finally regains some control over herself, she resorts to humour as a distraction from their current predicament.

Might as well crack a joke.

Maybe he'll smile. He probably won't.

'Do you have any laying around?'

'Any what?'

'Hoodies.'

'Of course not.'

'Shame... I'd prefer to wear one.'

'And hide your body?' Eren's voice drops an octave. He tilts his head to the side so that his lips are barely an inch from Annie's ear. She feels the energy of his skin, like some magnet, terrifying and attractive. He's intriguing and she hates him. When he speaks again, his words ring heavy in her ears. 'Now that's the real shame.'

'Stop it. What are you doing?' Annie recoils, as if burnt. She can't move much, considering that Eren's firm grip on her shoulder is enough to keep her in place. When had he gotten so strong? Or is she just weak from all those years of immobility? Either way, she's highly uncomfortable. Her training kicks in. Her left arm, which is closer to Eren anyway, comes up to try and grab him in order to throw him, but he catches her wrist in an iron grip. The hand on her shoulder moves to her back, thereafter he yanks her to her feet and against his chest.

Their faces are mere centimetres apart. His hot breath fans her lips, and the scent she inhales is that of Eren's skin: earthy, clean, like a fresh cup of coffee. Annie hates being this close to another person's visage - the claustrophobia makes her sick to her stomach - but not this time. Strangely, she doesn't feel nauseous.

She's scared.

At any moment, she could be killed. She may never make it back to her homeland, not even in a bodybag. If Eren's going to gut her, she prays that he does it soon and get it over with. This is practically a waiting game for her to become his food.

Annie shivers.

Eren raises a brow. He can see what she refuses to admit.

She struggles to keep it together.

Eren trails his lips along her jawline. She doesn't react, but fights an odd tightness in her chest. 'Frightened, are you?'

She attempts sarcasm. 'So frightened.'

'So very, very frightened.'

Annie bites back a snarl. Eren had always been a persistent blockhead, but his current level of tenacity had reached impenetrable status. In the past, he was an easy target for teasing. The demeanour he boasts now makes her think about whether he is the one doing most of the teasing these days.

'What do you want from me, Eren?'

'Shhh...' his voice is anything but soothing, but it soothes her nonetheless. 'I won't hurt you. For now, I need you.'

I need you, Annie.

She scoffs. 'For now.'

'That's right.'

'Until the day you devour me.'

Eren smiles. 'Until the day I devour you.'