Yay! My first Soul Eater fan fiction! ^_^ And another yay, angst! X3 Please enjoy~

Tolerance

Soul Eater could tolerate many things quite well.

He could put up with a certain blue-haired loudmouth assassin, even if he could be just straight up annoying some times. He could deal with constant enemies, lack of sleep, and losing a few meals every once in a while. He could tolerate the fact that he didn't always get what he wanted, and that he would not become the strongest being that ever was; because he knew he wasn't. He even had a pretty good alcohol level, which a recently mentioned meister could be thanked for that.

He could withstand getting hit upside the head with encyclopedias, or just punishment for doing something wrong in general (because he knew most of the time he deserved it). He could stand that he could be a jerk at times, and that he wasn't always as 'cool' as he would like to be; let's face it: he's not a perfect person, or a perfect weapon.

But even he could break.

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His fault…his fault…

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There were things Soul had a hard time tolerating, but the list was much shorter than the former. He could not tolerate Black*Star (go figure, the boy's on BOTH lists), or Maka's tears (especially if they were for him). He could not put up with constant fear (but give or take, coming to conclusion with your fear made you stronger). He hated the thought of him not being there for his partner when she needed it. And he absolutely would NOT accept his partner's getting injured on either his behalf or because of his own stupidity. (And bad cooking, but that was beside the point.)

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He was so stupid! How could he ever let something like this happen?

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Maka's condition wasn't as bad as it was in Soul's head. In truth, the worst injury was a slightly deep wound in her side that would be completely healed in two weeks or so. Even if her partner were to realize the lack in severity of her injuries, he'd still never forgive himself.

There was still a chance Maka could've died there.

He should've been there for her; he should've known!

It was all his fault…his fault…

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Soul doubted he'd be able to sleep that night, but finally, at maybe one in the morning, he drifted off, still up to the brim with guilt.

"Maka! Maka, answer me!"

"Don't leave me, no! PLEASE, Maka! You're all I have!"

Why was his vision blurring? And the black splotches that were covering his sight, what the hell were they?

All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing, ragged, quick-paced gulps for air, his hoarse voice, and his partner's very faint pulse.

"No…Maka…" He gently shook her shoulder while calling out her name.

Her dull eyes were half-lidded, and silence settled over the two of them.

Suddenly, she twitched.

"Maka? Oh my God, Maka!"

"Soul." She opened her eyes completely, but they were dull and filled with hatred. "Why would you let the happen?"

His breath hitched.

"Why'd you let me get hurt, Soul? Do you really hate me that much?"

"What? No, I—"

"Don't lie to yourself. You know you never really cared about me. I've known all along that you've been keeping secrets from me because you don't see me fit enough to trust. I'm no fool, Soul Eater. You should know that by now." Maka sneered and stood up from her slumped position on the wall. Though slightly reluctant to do so, Soul stood as well. "You're stupid if you think I don't blame you. It's your fault everything's happened to me. Every time I get hurt, I blame you and you know it. But that's because you know it's the truth. All you are…is a foolish, idiot jerk." She raised her hand.

Smack!

Soul winced as his head was tossed to the side cold-heartedly.

He set his jaw and turned back to face Maka, his very soul stinging, but she wasn't there. In her place stood a short red demon with an ugly scowl on its face.

"I told you I'd give you power. I told you you'd become stronger by coming with me. And now look at what you've done! You're meister is dead. You can do nothing about it. You're useless, and there is no one here to blame but yourself."

"I-I know…I know it's my fault…But…I…I just won't give into you." Soul muttered this.

"What are you going to do now, Soul Eater? What now?"

Soul opened his mouth and closed it again. What was he without Maka, anyway?

"Why don't you just go on and hand over your soul to me now? You have no more reasons left to live."

Suddenly, every object around Soul lit aflame.

"But I suppose I can just take it from you by force." The demon's voice was low and gravely now, making Soul shiver slightly.

The table with the record player fell over, smashing the music player into one thousand pieces. Soul backed up from the demon, only to feel the heat of the fire behind him as well.

"She's waiting for you, Soul. She wants you to come die, too. She wants you to feel her pain."

Soul's pupils got three sizes smaller at the sight of Maka, on the other side of the flames behind the demon, reaching out a blood-covered hand to him. She had a mad smile on her face.

Soul's lips parted and he took in a gasp of smoke-filled air.

He woke up feeling his lungs and throat burn. It took a few seconds to silence himself (he didn't think he'd ever s c r e a m e d for so long before). His breaths were ragged and short and he pulled his knees up to his chest into a fetal position. He buried his face in his knees—damn, that was all just a dream?—and his fingers found themselves tangling up in his sweat-dampened white hair.

Maka heard him. Even though it was muffled, she heard him scream. A nightmare? Maybe.

She crept out of bed and didn't even bother to put on her slippers. After the short walk to Soul's room, she lightly tapped on the door. "Soul, you alright?"

There was no reply.

Maka took in a breath and opened the door. The moonlight that was in living room ate up the darkness in her partner's bedroom—his curtains were closed completely?—and it took Maka a second to adjust her eyes to the lighting of the room.

Her feet quietly padding on the floor, she walked over to Soul's bed and saw him.

Maka could hear his breathing clearly, and could tell almost one hundred percent by the way his shoulders shook that he'd had a nightmare of some sort. She didn't really have to ask, though. She could almost already tell what it was about.

Maka, for the moment, disregarded personal space. All she could see was her partner, broken and scared.

Before she knew it, she was up on his bed and beside him, her knees pulled up to her chest as well.

"It's okay, Soul. It's okay."

She said this in a barely audible, soothing whisper.

Soul's shoulder's relaxed—when did she get here?—and his finger unloosened from their death grip around his hair slightly.

She closed in the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him, to let him know she was there, and everything was alright.

The boy glanced up at her above his knees, ruby orbs dull and filled with despair. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. She shouldn't even be there, a little voice in the back of his head told him; he was too weak, too venerable. But even he couldn't avoid the fact that he loved her presence.

"Bad dream?" She asked quietly, looking into his almost hidden eyes, cringing at the emotions that they gave off.

Soul took in a raspy breath and leaned into her a little, unintentionally. "You…You were—…" He dropped to silence and then started again, furious at himself as the dream flooded back into his memory once again, and in slight hysteria as Maka's scream rang through his ears, over and over again, along with her harsh, cruel words. "I should've been there, damn it! It's all my fault, Maka! All my fault! You shouldn't have gotten hurt, and all because of my stupid mistakes! I—" He ducked his eyes back behind his knees, escaping her gaze.

She embraced him a little bit tighter. "It's never been your fault, Soul."

That's a lie.

A silence settled over the two. But, abruptly, Maka took in a breath. "Soul, it has never actually been your fault. No matter which way you look at it. You always say it's your 'duty' to protect me and all, but I'm too head-strong for my own good. I got myself trapped, and there wasn't anything you could've done to stop that. Just be thankful we're both alive and kicking and don't take all of this on your own shoulders."

The white-haired boy could feel his anger slowly begin to ebb away, but despite her words, the choking guilt remained.

"Because you of all people should know I'm here for you, and that I'd go to Hell and back just to help you. And I know you'd do the same."

He glanced up at her, and his hands released his hair and draped over his knees.

"Soul, please don't do this to yourself. Even if you feel guilty, please don't keep this up. The only one who thinks you did anything wrong, Soul, is you." She looked at him with a soft smile. "You saved me, Soul. You saved me from whatever might have happened. Isn't that good enough?"

Not even noticing, Soul's head was now on her shoulder. His voice cracked, but he said, "Don't you ever be so reckless again, you hear me?"

Maka giggled. "Alright, I promise." She gazed into the pale moonlight that was unable to fill up the entire darkness that was his room. "You should probably be getting to sleep, Soul, you deserve the—" She was cut off by light, harmless snore coming from beside her. She smiled. Leaning her head into his hair, she took in his scent and warmth, pulling the blanket from his bed around them.

Sleep found its way to her, and she began to drift off (but before she fell asleep, she pushed the suddenly motherly thought that they'd both be sore in the morning away, smirking a little in her drowsiness.).

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Ah. Worst ending ever. XP Not my best work, but pretty good, if I do say so myself. Long. O_O" Reviews are love! =)