Stein's voice echoed through the empty lab, his footsteps heavy and slow. There was blood pouring from a ragged gash in his side; he was certain that it needed stitches, but he didn't dare stop to stitch it. If he did he may never find her. He knew that he shouldn't want to find her, not after what she had done. Reminding himself that it wasn't Charlotte that had caused his injuries was hard, the pain shooting through him with each step.

He had been blinded. He was relying solely on his Soul Perception to traverse through the lab, his head swiveling as her wavelength moved from place to place, blood trickling down his face. His legs were covered in scrapes, the palms of his hands bruised and cut from catching himself as he had tripped over multiple items in his search for the other meister.

Early in his search he had found his only phone, a corded rotary phone that sat on his coffee table. He went so far as to pick it up, listening to the dial tone, aware that she hadn't cut off communication with the outside world completely, but unable to dial anything. He couldn't get his fingers to work right, to slip into the grooves to twist it to dial the number. He had flung the phone against the wall; he didn't know what he had destroyed in addition to it, but there had been a disturbing sound of fracturing glass.

His voice called out again, his hands resting against the wall as he maneuvered almost deftly around a chair that he remembered being in the way. He however did not remember the table beside it, and he stumbled again. He fell to the ground amid a flash of bright light; that of the lamp on the table falling and shattering with him, the bulb blowing.

Glass was embedded in the palms of his hands now and Stein cursed, bringing his right hand to his mouth to suck on the palm. He spat pieces of glass out and onto the floor, repeating the process, before flexing his hands to make certain that he had gotten all of them. He could feel a shard trapped in his right hand, near the base of his thumb. He staggered to his feet, his teeth trying to find the glass shard, and walked blindly down the hallway, one hand trailing along the wall. He finally pried the shard loose with his teeth, and spat it and blood out on the floor. Marie was going to kill him.

The thought made him stop, nearly doubling over to keep from laughing. It wasn't funny, he knew that. Marie was dead, she would never be angry at him over something again. He felt a rush of sanity as he remembered Marie's death, early in the day, at Charlotte's hands, but it was quickly replaced by the need to laugh, to embrace everything as it came and hack it apart when it did. He knew that it was Charlotte's madness infecting him, threatening to batter down his carefully erected barriers. It was uncanny how easily she managed to push aside barriers that had kept the madness at bay for years.

He forced himself to stand, realizing that her wavelength was closer now than it had been, and he began to move again. He dragged himself through the halls, only to fall again, tripping over something soft yet heavy. His hands brushed against it and his eyes would have widened if he had still possessed them.

It was Marie's body. The hair, the eye patch, there was no mistaking it. Shudders ran through him, revulsion bringing bile into his throat. He could feel the blood soaking into his pants, her panicked last screams echoing in his mind as she begged for his help, her arm a hammer, Charlotte holding a scalpel, the death scythe's leg broken already from a surprise attack.

He hadn't moved, madness holding him still. He had watched as Charlotte ripped Marie's throat out with the blade, the teen laughing hysterically the entire time. Marie's eye had been staring at him as she collapsed, her hands clasped against her throat, blood painting the sides of her mouth as she struggled desperately to breathe. He could have saved her, perhaps, and that thought made him turn his head to the side and dry heave.

He was almost thankful that Charlotte had turned the scalpel on him next.

He staggered back to his feet, threading his way carefully through the lab, his hand running across the wall, thankful that he at least knew what room he was in now. He walked slowly, his head moving from side to side as he focused on trying to find his way back to his desk. If he could get there, he'd have access to his medicines, and he knew where the sedatives were.

He had once joked to Spirit that he could perform a dissection in his sleep. It seemed he would find out if he could indeed sedate someone while the equivalent of asleep. Blind.

The needle in hand he turned and found Charlotte's wavelength not twenty feet from himself. Her voice came to him through the darkness that surrounded him, and he found her wavelength approaching him as it did.

"I think you need this more than she does, now."

He felt something slip over his head and he realized a second later that it was Marie's eye patch. With a muffled curse he lunged towards Charlotte, relying on years of combat to let him know where she was. The needle bit into skin and she screamed as he injected the sedative into her.

Stein stared into the darkness for a long second, listening to Charlotte scream. His muscles were trembling, adrenaline coursing through him, but he knew that they were the only ones in the lab. She was safe. As he pulled her into his arms, leaning his back against the headboard of his bed, she just continued to shriek.

He smoothed her hair as the darkness was broken by a thin line of light. Marie opened the door and looked in, meeting Stein's eyes. "Nightmare?" she asked quietly, seeing Charlotte sobbing against Stein's chest.

"They come often for her."

Marie just nodded, and turned to leave. Stein sighed as the door shut again, plunging the room back into darkness. He let his hand stroke her hair gently, and eventually the teen calmed down. She sniffled against his chest, her hand reaching up a second later to brush against his cheek, then against his eyelid.

There was wonder in her voice, "You're not blind."

"No."

Charlotte's eyes went wide, imperceptible in the dark. "Ms. Marie!" she all but yelled, Stein's arms tightening on her as she tried to dart off the bed.

"Charlotte, she's fine."

"It… was a dream…"

"Yes."

Charlotte collapsed against him again, sobbing, this time in relief.

A/N: One word prompt of "uncanny" from TheAUWalker. She asked for it to be terror and hurt/comfort. I hope that you've enjoyed. Charlotte is her OC, so I don't own Soul Eater or Charlotte.