Chapter Text
"So you're saying he's spoken before."
"I'm sure that he still can. Nothing has been proven otherwise medically, his vocals are undamaged."
Eren pressed his face deeper into his arms and willed them all away with his mind, his father, the nurses, the other person he was talking to that he hadn't met but already disliked. He didn't want help, didn't want his father to go around making his throat the country's test subject.
He wanted his own piece of the world to stay his own. This new doctor, therapist or whatever was just another person to add to his hate list.
"I'll see what I can do." Was the last he heard before his journey of psychological probing began once again.
-
"We won't jump into the speaking part just yet." Eren's therapist explained while he continued avoiding the man's gaze and stared at a spot on the wall across from his desk."Your father said you possessed a previous skill in art, so we'll start with that."
As if reading the boy's mind, he added,"I'm no shoulder to cry on, or one interested in your personal life, as many first expect. I'm simply here to revive natural actions and habits any healthy human is capable of." A few papers shuffled before he was standing up, not looking back when he asked Eren to follow him out of the room.
-
He's never held a paintbrush in a long while, but seeing the supplies spread available in front of him on the desk made him yearn for it again. His therapist, Levi, who he'd refused to acknowledge in any way, had left him with a sheet of watercolor paper, brushes and a set of watercolors, telling him to paint whatever was on his mind before he left.
So he did, a line forming between his eyebrows as he concentrated, lips pressed firmly together as he painted in vigorous anger. Anger at what, he wasn't sure.
Levi came back a minute after he'd set his brush down and stared at the picture with his head in his hands. He immediately grabbed it and shoved it in the small space underneath the desk and glanced away.
"Show me." The older asked calmly as he stood by Eren's desk. The boy fell in a state of panic all of a sudden, because he didn't want to at all, and abruptly got up to his feet and snatched the painting out of the desk. He tore it apart as he made his way to the trash can in a corner of the room, having shredded it into bits before throwing it and watching bits of red flutter down.
He folded his arms protectively across his chest and remained in his spot with his back to the man, who didn't say a single thing about his course of action. And he hated it, the monotone indifference of what he didn't know and never would, thinking he could simply because he'd studied people. Eren wasn't like other people. He'd never be again.
-
Apparently, Eren's previous action had sent them straight into the speaking part and here he was sitting across from Levi, stubbornly glaring at the piece of paper he'd absolutely declined to read.
After about half an hour with failed progress from the therapist's part to make Eren say his name, he folded his hands on the table and gave Eren a gaze that he felt boring through him with it's intensity.
"We can't continue like this. Don't want to talk? You have to communicate in some sort of way."
Eren didn't budge.
"Why aren't you cooperating? This for your own good, you know."
Out of anger, he pulled out a pocket notebook and pen he kept for emergencies and scrawled down,'I don't need or want your help. Think you understand ? How about you don't waste your time because you don't understand.'
He slid it across the table and resumed his previous occupation.
The man chuckled, and Eren's eye twitched in agitation."You have no idea how many tell me this. It's almost as bad as convicts who claim to be not guilty."
The brunet bit his lip as he restrained himself from hurting Levi. He was so done.
"Let's make a deal. Give me one month, and in that time the least you can do is communicate through notes. If I can't convince you that I do understand, I myself will tell your father that I am not fit or capable of handling you."
Eren pondered this for a second. His eyes moved to the notepad and pen presented in front of him again, taking in Levi's slim fingers, barely calloused and bordering between feminine. He didn't know how the man looked like, other than the buzz cut at the back of his head and his short posture. He didn't plan to look at his face anytime either.
He grabbed the pen and wrote done a quick 'alright', as if it hurt his pride to lag.
"Good. Now for starters, Eren, would you tell me about your dreams?"
Fuck.
He grimaced as he wrote uncommitted things down. Giants. Soldiers. Walls. Wings. Death. Blood.
He put his pen down and Levi picked the notebook up. He regarded it for a long moment before speaking."Any relevance to something that's occurred in your life?"
Eren shook his head.
"Are they connected?"
He nodded.
"Some sort of story you feel brain created?"
The brunet snatched the notebook back.
It's my reality.
The session ended right there. And Eren understood why when he overheard him telling Grisha something when he came to pick him.
"It's more serious than you think."
Fuck Levi. Fuck them all.