The Injury Conundrum

Eren, You Should Probably See A Therapist

Eren hit the ground with an audible crunch, and oh sweet Sina that fucking hurt, what the hell did he do to his wrist.

Tears started pooling in his eyes as he pushed himself up with his forearms. He leaned over to look at his wrist becasuse holy fucking shit, that hurt, that hurt, why did it hurt so bad.

Exhaling sharply through his teeth, he turned his head to look and-nothing. It really didn't look like anything had happened, aside from maybe some minor swelling- that would be a nasty bruise later- but that was fine.

Just a bruise was fine because it meant that it probably wasn't sprained, and although it'd hurt like a bitch he wouldn't have to miss out on training to get it fixed, or, Walls forbid, have to stay out for a week because you can't operate 3DMG gear with a sprained wrist.

That had happened to Marco when they'd first been working with the gear, and while he'd only been out for a few days, he'd spent the better part of three months trying to catch up- and Eren couldn't afford that.

He gingerly pushed himself up, taking care to avoid putting pressure on his left wrist- thank Walls it was his left and not his right, he really didn't want to be flinching every time he attempted to eat for as long as it took to heal- as he positioned his feet under him and sat back onto his heels.

To test his range of motion he lifted his arm with his right hand and went to flex his wrist, except-

Nothing happened.

Eren kept staring dumbly at his wrist as it stayed where it was, flopped towards the ground, as he kept trying over and over to move it.

In his fustration he moved his hand up from his forearm to lift his wrist and- fuck, fuck, that was a bad fucking idea.

Shit, he couldn't move it, and now that he was thinking about it, it actually hurt really fucking bad even when he wasn't moving it, and it was this deep ache coming from somewhere within his wrist, feeling like bone-

Hot tears spilled down Erens cheeks as he keened foward, placing his right hand on the ground for balance, because fuck he knew exactly what that meant.

He'd seen it before, in cases with little kids who had fallen out of carts, with laborers who tried to carry too much and dropped the weight, with nobels who'd fallen down their too long, too elegant staircases- yeah they looked cool, but why would they want to walk more than necessary?- and he knew exactly what this meant.

Fuck. Fuck. His wrist was broken.

Pretty badly too if the pain and numbness in his fingers was anything to go by, and now that he was looking at it up close, he could definently see that it was angled wrong, and it was so ovbious that something was wrong, and fuck that would take him out of training for Walls knew how long and-

Eren screamed into the elbow of his good arm, as he wiped the tears from his face

This couldn't happen to him, it just couldn't!

He needed to keep training, working, so that he'd be able to graduate and join the Survey corps and kill titans and he couldn't fucking train if his wrist was broken, holy shit they wouldn't let him do anything, they'd send him back to the refugee camps and he'd never even be allowed to attempt joining the millitary again and-

"Woah buddy, you doing ok?" Asked Reiner as he landed with a thump onto the pile of leaves behind Eren. "You took that fall pretty hard man."

Eren cleared his throat as attempted to calm himself.