Soul glanced at the alarm clock on his nightstand. In glowing red letters, it read 2:36.

Wonderful, he thought. I'm not going to get any sleep tonight, am I? Ever since the epic final battle with Asura the week prior, he'd had difficulty sleeping. Not from anxiety or anything; no, there was just something in him that wouldn't let him sleep.

After a few moments of tossing and turning and rearranging his pillow, he decided his efforts were fruitless and he might as well snag a 2 AM snack. He hauled himself up and headed for the kitchen.

As he passed Maka's doorway, he heard a small sound from inside. He paused and listened- there it was again. He thought he could make out his meister's breathing, but it sounded off. Kind of ragged. He hesitantly cracked the door open and peered in.

Inside, through the moonlight streaming in the window, he saw Maka curled up on her bed, her face buried in her arms. She was shaking softly.

"What's up?" Soul asked quietly, opening the door all the way.

Maka jumped at the sound, hastily rubbing at her eyes. Even in the bad lighting, he could see they were red and raw.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Just a bad dream, that's all. I'm fine."

Soul thought back to when he'd jumped in front of Crona to protect Maka, and how he'd had extremely disturbing nightmares for Death-knows-how-long. He remembered saying those exact words to her in the infirmary. "I've had my share of bad dreams. What was it?" He came and sat by her on the bed.

"Asura." Her breath caught in her throat. "It was just like last time, but… everyone was dead. You were dead, Papa was dead, Kid and Black*Star and everyone else was…" She took a deep breath. "And he was so much more powerful than me, and no matter what I did, he just kept coming, and-"

She was cut off by Soul's arm suddenly curling around her shoulders. "Well, I'm not dead, am I?" he said. "And neither is your dad, or anyone else. Asura's gone, sucker-punched by the most talented meister in the Academy."

Maka had to chuckle softly. "Yeah, right. I got lucky a lot."

Soul shrugged. "I guess you're right."

"Hey!" She used her arm not squished between them to punch him lightly in the chest.

He smiled. "Deal with it. I'm not going anywhere for a long time." He held her tighter.

Maka rested her head on his shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem."

To Soul's surprise, seconds later, she was out. Her breathing became steady and even. He wasn't sure how to extricate himself from this position without waking her, so he sat there for a moment, trying to figure out what to do.

Suddenly, he felt very tired. He laid his head on Maka's. As he drifted off, his mind made the connection: it was our souls, he thought. She couldn't sleep, so I couldn't. Funny. He pulled the blanket up over them, and promptly fell asleep.

In the morning, there was the expected awkwardness of waking up with their arms literally wrapped around each other, but Soul eventually convinced Maka that he hadn't done anything while she was asleep, though it cost him a couple of chops to the head.

Even through that ordeal, the nightly ritual continued; she would only drift off if it was in his arms. They learned to feel more and more comfortable in that position, and though they told themselves it was completely platonic, Blair suspected there was something else going on… but that, dear readers, is a whole 'nother fanfic.