[thoughtless]

Eren laid still on the floor of his cell, his hands cradling the impossible swell of his belly. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down his cheeks...or maybe those were tears. He couldn't be sure. He heard Gear's voice but didn't look up. He didn't have the strength. He didn't have the will. The past day (was it only one day?) had been agony. Now he understood the acceptance he had mocked in the other prisoners. It wasn't worth fighting. Dying was a better option.

His voice was hoarse and weak. "I...I don't think I can move, Gear."