Prompt: My muse finds your muse unconscious and barely breathing.

None of the characters nor the original franchise belong to me. Solely for entertainment purposes.

His forest green cloaked fluttered as he swung through the air with ease, enabled by his 3DMG. Soon his feet landed against the solid ground with a light thud. He took several long steps forwards, so far seemingly unaware of his friend's status. He sharply turned the corner, the cloak mirroring his motions, twisting around the building, following the Corporal's muscular frame.

No Titans were in sight, the mission to clear the area had been a success. His close unit of comrades, who he did consider friends, were nowhere to be seen. Though for now there was no hint of worry in his mind. They were no doubt seeing to the inevitable wounded that came with each expedition into Titan territory.

He sheathed his sword, at a distance he could see an unmoving figure, green covered the majority of the body, though it served as recognition that whoever it was, was one of their own. With no one else in sight he realised that the duty of seeing to the injured, or possibly the corpse, fell to him. He made his way over, feet tapping against the dark cobbles. Squinting he tried to see who the figure could possibly be. Suddenly his eyes widened and he felt himself running. Hanji… He was running faster. He had to reach her.

His knees buckled as he reached her side, without thought, he instinctively firmly gripped her shoulder and hip so that she would be laid on her back. He stared for a moment as she lay unmoving, he calloused fingers quickly traced their way to her neck, landing softly just above the Carotid artery. He rested his fingers, denting slightly into her skin, feeling for a pulse. The moment seemed to drag on as he waited for the sign that she was alive, he was well aware of his own heartbeat. Too aware. He could feel it, weakly throbbing against his forefinger: She was alive.

He sat back on his feet, thinking for a moment. He leaned forwards once again, placing two fingers on her forehead and two just below her jaw, tilting her head backwards. Once in position, he pried he mouth open, his hair falling against her face as he listened for breathing. His eyes were focused on her chest, if he couldn't hear her breaths, maybe he could see them.

She was breathing— But only just. He pulled his body away, sitting upright. He had to do something, she was too important to mankind… To important to him… to be allowed to die. Squaring his body above hers, he pinched her nose, inhaling deeply, he leaned in, his lips sealing against her own, exhaling, allowing his own breath to keep her alive. One, two, three, four, five. He checked her breathing again, it was still weak.

"Wake up, Idiot Glasses." He growled below his breath. He quickly unbuttoned her upper shirt, tracing a finger down the centre of her chest, searching for the sternum. Interlocking his fingers, hands overlapping, he pushed down on her chest rapidly, continuing at a strong pace. Interchanging between breathing for her, or compression he continued for a few minutes. He checked again, her breathing was far stronger, her pulse slowly recovering. He didn't need telling twice, he quickly picked her up, placing her over his shoulder and running.