How is it possible that I haven't written a Soul Eater one-shot yet? I was really big into Soul Eater when I first made my account. (As can be evidenced in my pen name.) Though I have to say, if I was ever going to write one, I didn't expect it would center on Liz. Not that I don't love all the characters, but the Thompson sisters never stood out much to be. But I recently finished rewatching Soul Eater, and the fact that so little is said about the fact that they basically grew up as street thugs became something I needed to personally correct. So here we are.

Security

If someone had tried to tell Liz, even just a year or two ago, that she would one day be considered the 'scaredy-cat' of her group of friends, she would have laughed in their face, beaten them to a pulp, and smoothly stolen their wallet before they knew what hit them. There was a time when hearing the Thompson sisters' names on the streets of Brooklyn was enough to send anyone running. Prowling the streets with her sister was like putting on a mask. And while Liz might have been made uneasy by unseeable things lurking in the shadows, Elizabeth Thompson had no such fears. The Thompson needed only each other, and when they were together, they were nigh-invincible. But then the pompous, spoiled little rich boy they tried to mug turned out to be a (slightly neurotic) grim reaper, and everything changed.

…

It was funny, the way a sense of security could change a person. That first night in Gallows Manor, she'd had every intention of robbing Kid blind and getting out of there, just as soon as he fell asleep. But then the mansion had been so warm… After all, when was the last time they'd stayed somewhere with proper heating? Or eaten such a filling meal? And those beds… In separate rooms—imagine that, not having to share a room! Never had Liz ever experienced a bed so comfortable. They were both out cold long before they had a chance to formulate any kind of plan. And things just went from there.

Before Liz knew it, it was all too easy to let her guard down around Kid. It had been strange at first to let anyone wield her in weapon form but Patty, though soon that too began to feel natural, a reflection of their slow relaxation into their posts as Kid's partners. But Liz knew what truly changed her mind. The shifts in her own behavior and mindset were subtler, but she got to see Patty visibly relax, right before her eyes. Soon enough her sister was perpetually cheerful, giggles making up half her vocabulary. And that was enough for Liz. Patty was getting to live the carefree childhood they'd been denied. Who was she to take that away from her? They were in this for the long haul.

…

Liz never claimed to be the smartest girl around. After all, she and Patty had grown up on the streets. A stellar education just wasn't in the cards. Living with Kid turned every day, it seemed, into a learning experience. Starting from day one.

She didn't really get his reasoning—why he wanted them, specifically. Nor did she pretend to. At the time it felt irrelevant. Funny. That little quirk would come to be one of his most defining traits.

Maybe it sounds strange, but Liz had never really understood before that phobias involve real fear. She'd heard somewhere that phobias were irrational fears, and somehow that one word—irrational—had made them seem less real. After all, everyone had something, right? For Liz it was ghosts. An irrational hysteria that was all-encompassing in the moment, but something to laugh about later. She only realized the truth of it once she started to truly understand her meister—It was never funny.

A true phobia doesn't disappear just because the frightening thing is no longer staring you in the face. For Kid, the threat of asymmetry was always present. Liz had seen a very real shiver crawl up his spine at the mere thought of such things, while sitting in one of his many perfectly symmetrical rooms, surrounded by his ideal of beauty. Death the Kid was a very powerful grim reaper, and Liz had seen him made physically ill by a crooked picture frame.

Even so, it took some time for Liz to make the connection. On more than one occasion, she'd watched her meister stride confidently into a clearly haunted building with her squealing and panicking all the while. It was during these missions that Liz preferred to spend the time in her weapon form, secure in Kid's steady grip. The same way he needed their stream of reassurances whenever he was waylaid by something asymmetrical. It took her a while to realize—he was just as confused by her fears as she was by his. After all, what were a few ghosts to a grim reaper? Their partnership was a balancing act, on all sides. The three of them needed each other. And that was that.

…

It was another day in Gallows Manor. Liz strolled from room to room, casually straightening whatever she could, and knowing full well that Kid would come along soon enough to make sure everything was to his specifications anyway. (And not entirely without reason. Patty liked to go around and shift things ever so slightly… either because she honestly didn't notice anything was out of place when she left… or because she wanted to see if Kid would. He always did.) But they had gotten him to relax a bit. The Manor had more rooms than Liz had ever bothered to count. Even Kid could admit that he probably didn't need to look over the rooms no one had touched the day before. As a result, they were only getting to school about an hour late these days. Which was perfectly to Kid's liking anyway.

And today, Liz didn't mind. She made no effort to hurry them along. She took in all of Death City as they walked, Patty humming something cheerful and tuneless at her side. It was hard to believe now that, not so long ago, walking out in the open in broad daylight like this was a privilege they could rarely afford.

"You're both in high spirits today," Kid commented as the school finally came into view.

"It's a good day," Liz replied simply with a smile. Patty just giggled.

In the end, it turned out to be a rather ordinary day. But the way she defined 'ordinary' had changed. 'Ordinary' meant knowing she and her sister had a place to stay and no shortage of food to eat. No need to be on guard for cops around every corner. It had once meant exactly the opposite. She had to wonder, what would Kid's reaction be, if someone identified them now and tried to charge them for their past crimes?

"What's wrong?" Kid asked quietly, and she realized she'd been staring, tuning out Stein completely.

But Liz just shook her head and tried to focus on the lesson. Perhaps that was the biggest change. These were worries she could push aside now. Even if the worst possible scenario did come to pass, they had the tools to deal with it now. This, Liz realized, was what security felt like.

…

Their ordinary day faded into an ordinary night. Once the sun had set, Liz set off to find Kid, Patty bounding off ahead of her to collect provisions. Eventually, she found their meister carefully studying a canvas in his room. Kid actually wasn't half-bad as an artist, though he had a very distinctive style. And she was in luck tonight. He hadn't started yet.

"Hey, Kid. Patty's going to put on a movie if you want to join us."

He considered this and then considered the blank canvas for another second before nodding and getting to his feet. "Yes. That sounds relaxing."

Liz hid her smirk as she ducked back out. It was nice to know even Kid found his own neuroticism tiring sometimes.

When set up correctly, the den more closely resembled a theater. There was no way to know just what exactly they were in for. Kid's movie collection was extensive, fitting right in with the luxurious air the rest of the manor exuded. Liz had a sneaking suspicion Patty's method of selection involved pulling movies off the shelves at random. It didn't matter to Patty. Anything she hadn't already seen was a worthy choice to her.

The three teens settled themselves on the couch facing the screen. They took up very little space in this huge room, though this was due to necessity, in a way… Kid, of course, always took the centermost spot, so as to split the room around him and preserve the perfect symmetry he'd so meticulously set up. When the girls were with him, he wanted them spaced out at perfect intervals, which frankly, just wasn't worth the trouble, particularly with Patty who was incapable of sitting still unless anchored to someone. So the two settled in on either side of their meister, sidled right up, shoulder to shoulder. If this closeness had been uncomfortable once, they hardly noticed it now. The heavy buttered popcorn was passed around, and the movie began.

The film on-screen tonight had a weight to it that was most certainly not mirrored on Patty's face. It was the tale of a woman struggling to connect with a reluctant foster daughter who had a lingering loyalty to the biological mother who'd abandoned her. It was the type of story that was quietly beautiful… And Patty was fast asleep, one head resting on Kid's shoulder, by the end of it.

Neither Kid nor Liz moved to turn it off when the credits started their slow roll. The popcorn bowl was long-empty, and the night was still. They had both fallen into a contemplative silence.

At last Liz said, before she really gave herself time to think about it, "You know… Our mom never actually kicked us out. That's what I told Patty, but really… I took her and we ran away. Our mom wasn't cruel or anything… just weak. Each new boyfriend was hooked on something harder than the last and… I just couldn't stand it anymore. It might be hard to understand, but… it was actually a better life, most of the time, to be out on the streets, stealing to survive. But sometimes it sucked and… And I never told Patty why we were really out there because… Because it was easier to have her blame Mom than to have her blame me."

Her words were nearly inaudible by the end, the volume stolen by the lump that had formed in her throat. Kid had twisted his neck just enough to turn his eerie yellow gaze on her, but he'd remained silent throughout her stilted storytelling. Perhaps he understood that she wasn't entirely sure why she was telling the story in the first place. Mothers were not a topic that ever entered the conversation in this house. Kid knew the details of their past, though they'd never really discussed it before now. As for Liz, she'd never seen even a hint of Kid's mother anywhere. She had her theories, of course—maybe she'd left, disappeared off into the night like her father had shortly after Patty's birth. Maybe there were other reasons she wasn't around. There were probably consequences for getting that close to Death, right? Or maybe Kid hadn't needed a mother to bring him into this world. Liz would be the first to admit she didn't fully understand this grim reaper business, so it was possible—but she'd never asked. And neither had he. It was an unspoken common courtesy. And now she'd broken it.

"I sincerely doubt she'd blame you," Kid answered at last. She wondered if the heat behind her eyes was visible in the dim lighting of the den. She swallowed, focusing intently on his words to push back the tears. 'Sincerely doubt…' That had to be an oxymoron of some sort, right? He had such a formal way of speaking. Yet he could be such a child sometimes. The tears completed a successful retreat just in time for Kid to go on. "She understands far more than most people give her credit."

"Yeah, she does." They both turned to watch Patty where she continued to snooze on Kid's shoulder, untroubled.

They were quiet for so long, the television fell into its own mode for sleep. Just when Liz thought Kid must be dozing off too, he said, very softly, "When I was young, I thought if I could just make the manor perfect enough, my father would spend more time here, maybe even move in."

Liz smiled sadly at him. "Yeah. I kinda figured it was something like that."

In truth, she also knew it was something deeper than that—something ingrained that led him to view symmetry as perfection in the first place—but Liz didn't voice those thoughts tonight. She understood this confession to be an offering of sorts. A show of gratitude for the secret she had divulged. He made no move to get up from his spot on the couch, so Liz laid her head on his other shoulder. He closed his eyes, perfectly relaxed. Liz let his even breathing lull her to sleep as well, unconcerned for what the next day would bring.

Review please!

I don't own Soul Eater.

Once I decided I was going to write a one-shot with Liz as the focus character, I ran through a few different ideas, but I was never entirely sure what to do with Patty. I think there's a depth to her character too… Though I may not be quite up to identifying and writing it just yet. I think I fit her into this fic as best as I could. But it's not really possible to tell Liz's story without even mentioning her sister.