A/N: For the-soul-eater-alchemist! Took my three days to write and I think I over-did it a bit, but I still had a lot of fun writing this. I'm not one for tragedy fics but this one'll be slightly different. Hope you like it! I gave it my own little twist at the end so it's not too sad.
Soul Eater Evans would rather be anywhere but here in the dead of the Russian winter, freezing his ass off. In fact, he'd much rather be in a hospital than here, but not for his own being. He's in the middle of the forest, standing in a patch of snow and surrounded by a vast woodland of vapid and leafless trees, prickly branches jutting out and reaching towards him. One arm is stuffed in his pocket and braving the cold while the other arm is a shining scythe sticking out from the sleeve from his coat, glinting against the moonlight. Soul shivers and snuggles his chin further into his scarf. Maka's scarf that she had given to him to protect him from the cold before he went on this mission. He can still smell her floral scent with each frozen breath he took. He lumbers forward, boots leaving a traceable shoe-shaped path against the muddy snow. "Oi, are you done yet, Ethan?" he calls to one of the bushes, where his temporary partner is examining a scraped up tree bark while pointing his flashlight at it.
The young chestnut-haired boy is only 15 and he's already an in-training Deathscythe. "Yeah, Mr. Evans, sir. Coming in one second!" He narrows his eyes at the brown bark and observes that it's unlike the other trees. This particular tree's bark had been slashed from top to trunk, with three large claw marks cutting a few inches deep or so. The would-be kishin that they are currently dealing with is big and dangerous. So dangerous that Soul had been sent away, despite him pleading with Lord Death not to be, to Russia with the newest Deathscythe: Ethan. He was a katana, capable of functioning successfully without a meister. "It seems that the monster went this way," he explains. Soul rolls his eyes.
"Noob..." he mutters to himself. "We should get going. Or else the kishin egg'll find us instead."
The young man trots over to his side. "I'm really excited to be with you on this mission, mister Deathscythe, sir!" he says, the excitement obvious in his eyes.
Soul scowls. "So am I," he replies dryly.
Ethan chuckles. "I can see your enthusiasm," he answers with sarcasm. "What's wrong?"
Soul scoffs. "What's wrong? We're standing in the middle of fuckin' Siberia hunting for a goddamn pre-kishin with giant ass claws. In the middle of winter. Alone. And, my wife is nine months pregnant."
Ethan huffs out a puff of warm air that condenses into steam in mid-air thanks to the coldness. "Oh, I see. Is she going to have him soon?"
"Her," he corrects, annoyed. "She's going to supposedly be born around this time. And I wanna be there to see it."
"What'd you name her?"
"We dunno yet."
"Your wife is Maka Albarn, right?"
"Yeah."
"She's your meister, right?"
"Yeah."
"How long have you been married so far?"
"3 years."
"Wow! And you're only 21? You two are so young!"
Soul's irritation grows as the boy is oblivious to the underlying message that he was trying to communicate to him.
"Hey, maybe we should - "
"Look kid, I know you mean well, but I ain't exactly up for this mission right now. So...if you'd please just shut up for a second then maybe we can actually do some searching," Soul deadpans.
Ethan lowers his gaze with guilt suddenly, then nods. "Yessir," he murmurs, and they continue forward.
They duck under low-lying branches and trudge through snow piled up to their ankles. Soul feels guilt settling in after he realized that Ethan had become eerily quiet. "Hey, kid." Ethan glances at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be harsh back there."
Ethan nods with understanding. "It's okay, sir. I'd be jumpy too if my wife was gonna have a baby without me."
Soul grins weakly. "You're a good kid. Let's finish this up so I can get back home. During the briefing Kid told me you have Soul Perception. Can you...sense the thing or something?"
"Not very much, sir, but I still can slightly," he answers modestly.
"That'll work. Can you do it now? The thing's probably following us, so he'd be nearby," he suggests.
"Right away, sir!" Ethan stops in his tracks and closes his eyes slowly, concentrating hard, brows furrowed. "Um...I can sense a weak one to our left, about ten feet away."
Soul draws his scythe arm back out from under his coat sleeve while he glares into the darkness of trees. He squints to get a better look. He can see two yellow eyes, luminescent in the blackness, glaring at him. A low guttural growl causes the surrounding trees around the beast to tremble. "Looks like our guest is here," he says, eyes flashing dangerously.
Soul leaned down and sat at her bedside while she laid flat, head propped up by a pillow. Maka sighed. "Is it another mission?"
Soul frowned. "Yeah, I'm afraid it is."
"Will you be back in time?" she asked with a concerned look on her face. "I mean, she can be coming anytime at this point."
"Of course, I'll try. The thing is..." he was hesitant to tell her as he bit his lip. "Well..."
"What?" she asked. The 21 year-old blonde looked weary and worn-down from months of pregnancy as it was and this would only make it worse for her.
He gulped. "...It's in Russia."
Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Why is it so far away? Doesn't Lord Death know that I'm expecting?" she asked, visibly upset but too tired to be angry.
"Look, Maka. I've done everything I can to help me get out of this situation, but he's set on making me go. The newest Deathscythe needs my help to train, I guess," he reasoned.
"But..." Maka's frown deepened. "What if it happens while you're gone?"
Soul sighed. "Don't worry, if I'm not here to take you to the hospital, then Tsubaki will be." He took the cellphone resting on the nightstand and tucked it into her hand. "I'll only be gone for a day or so. Don't worry."
Maka propped herself up for a moment and reached under her pillow. "It's cold in Russia," she said, wrapping the scarf around his neck. "So keep warm, okay?"
Soul smirked. "Thanks, Maka. I promise, I'll be back." He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently, then her cheek. "I love you." He stood up and lowered his head to the large bump protruding from her whole entire abdomen, firm and plump. "And I love you too, baby which we have yet to name." He kissed his unborn child from on top of her belly. Maka raised an amused eyebrow and chuckled. He shrugged. "What? If we haven't even decided her name yet, then we might as well name her that."
"See you in time for her to be born?" she asked as he strode back towards the door of her room.
Soul offered a sheepish smirk. "I'll be there, I swear it."
Maka recalls every last bit of their conversation before he left. She flips the phone open absent-mindedly and closes it as soon as she sees that he hasn't called her yet. It's already been four hours since Soul left her, and Maka gets increasingly nervous as time passes on. She winces quickly as another contraction jolts her stomach. The doctor had warned them that this was the month she'd give birth. She already can feel her so-to-be baby girl kicking in her stomach with anticipation.
The television in their bedroom drones on with the dreary-looking news anchor in the background. Her cellphone rests quietly in her hand at her side while she lies down, craning her neck up to watch the TV.
The baby had seemingly become more active ever since her father left, causing her to panic quite a few times within the past few hours. Even though she had the option of calling Tsubaki and going to the hospital, she still wanted to wait it out just in case Soul was early, especially since she wanted her baby to see his Papa for the first time. Just in case her water broke, she'd want to have some type of moral support from her husband while she went into what would be known as the worst 8 hours or so of her life.
Another jerk in her abdomen makes her jump a bit. She clenches the cellphone in her palm and tentatively rests a hand atop her bulging stomach. The sharp pain makes her grit her teeth, but then, slowly, she starts to relax. Maka sighs deeply, then her tense shoulders finally loosen. "We're almost there," she sighs deeply, massaging a soothing hand against her stomach.
Soul jumps back after a large hand with three elongated talons stretches out to slash at him. The monster growls with rage. It looks like a cross between an ox and a wolf; its nose is a short snout, but its body was bulky and large. The pre-kishin's head is formless with only one gaping maw with a long row of serrated teeth and black blood seeping from its forked tongue. Its whole body is an abysmal black, blending it in with the nightly surroundings, hunched and twisted back with a bony outline against its taut skin. The creature has glaring amber eyes, resembling that of a cat's. It also had deadly aim and precision. If its last swipe had landed it probably would've cost Soul an arm if he hadn't dodged in time.
Soul growls and utters a curse under his breath. His clothing is heavy and restricting since the winter coat's thick and snug around his arms and body. Even in the dead of winter he could feel moist sweat reeking against his skin. It's becoming uncomfortably hot from under his jacket. What made the battle worse is that it had begun to snow - no, it's become a blizzard by now - and visibility's reduced to zero as blistering winds fling snow all around them. Soul easily lost sight of Ethan, who he assumes is on the opposite side of the beast. "Ethan!" he calls, while the monster still has its concentration on him. "Ethan, where are you?!" The only response he receives is from the creature, rearing up to pounce on him with those three-clawed paws. It charges towards him with speed. Soul dodges by leaping to the side, his fall cushioned by the thick blanket of snow. It speeds right past him and disappears into the distance as Soul picks himself up. Damn, this was a tough one. He can't even get close to it without nearly being killed. He needs his meister with him.
For a moment, he entertains the thought of Ethan holding a Deathscythe even though he is one himself. But then he remembers that Ethan is out of sight, and that a weapon holding another weapon whose wavelengths were not in sync with his own would not work at all. The kishin rears its ugly head and charges back around. Soul chooses to transform with a bright flash of turquoise, spinning in midair right towards it. The monster notices a scythe flying at it and leaps to the side as the point of the blade lands straight in the ground. Soul transforms out of scythe form, and the beast skids to a stop. It directs a roar at him, enraged.
Out of breath, fatigue begins to settle in Soul's muscles. The damn thing was strong, but it has many areas to hit and it never carefully planned out its attacks. He's relieved that he's finally found a monster that was stupider than himself. If he were to plan his next blow carefully, he might be able to actually kill it. The frustrated monster turns around once more, bearing its fangs, eyes flaming yellow. Soul stares it down, studies its movements as it rushes towards him. As it nears, he squats low to the ground in waiting. With his white hair he fits in with the piles and piles of snow before him, but he isn't trying to camouflage.
It screeches with anger and leaps in the air, right over Soul's head. The Deathscythe rolls on his back just as it lands on him, feet digging into its soft underside. Soul rolls back further and kicks it over his head. The monster face-dives into the white backdrop. Before it can lift its head, an obsidian-colored scythe stabs into its stomach, drawing blackened blood from its belly. It gives a yowl of pain as Soul continuously drives his blade into its side repeatedly, tearing up its insides. Black stains the snow as the would-be kishin flails hopelessly, then its body unravels in a patch of ribbons. A red soul is left behind from the carnage.
Soul sighs with irritation. "Mr. Evans? Mr. Evans!" He can hear Ethan's voice call to him in the distance. Finally, the boy comes into view through the pounding winds of snow and frost. "Hey, Mr. Evans, I think I found the..." He slows down his pace as he realizes that Soul was grasping its soul in his hands. "Kishin...?" The confusion in his eyes are replaced with shock. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Evans! I lost you back in the woods there and I couldn't find you so I looked around instead and I still couldn't find you so I - "
"It's okay, I fought him and I won. Easy," he smirks weakly.
Ethan beams. "Oh wow! You're amazing, Mr. Deathscythe, sir!"
"Stop calling me 'sir,' kid."
"Mr. Evans, then?"
Soul sighs. "I believe this is yours." He offers the soul to the young Deathscythe.
Ethan shakes his head vigorously. "Oh, no, Mr. Evans. I can't accept that."
"Why the hell not?!" he demands, frustrated.
"I didn't earn that one, sir - I mean Mr. Evans! I need to kill one myself to accept it!" he says.
Soul glares at him, and Ethan gulps. "Take it." He shoves the soul against his chest forcefully. "This one's on the house, 'kay?"
Ethan frowns. "Okay."
"Alright, let's get outta here already. I can't feel my ass anymore," he mutters.
"Yup, the helicopter's waiting for us on the other side of the valley," he smiles.
Together, they make their way to the forest edge one more time. As they walk, Soul rummages around in his pocket for his cellphone. He wonders if he'd get a signal from the altitude that they were in, and he spots that he has three bars of connection. He grins. Time to call Maka to tell her that he was heading home. He begins to dial her number with his frozen fingers, but stops as he notices that Ethan's footsteps halt after trudging around in the snow. He looks up with surprise. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Ethan seems frozen - not literally, but unmoving in his spot. Soul taps him on the shoulder, but he's still unresponsive. "Ethan?" he asks. "Hey, Ethan!"
Finally, the boy swivels his head around. There's evident fear in his eyes as his shoulders start to tremble. "They're here..."
"Huh? Who's here?!" Soul demands.
"They're all around us..."
Soul stiffens. He glances around him, staring into the darkness. On all angles, there are pairs of glowing yellow eyes, five pairs of them. The growling finally reaches his ears. Soul transforms his arm into his scythe as all five of them slink from the darkness and into view, stalking towards them slowly. Some of them are on all fours, like the first one, two are standing up on two legs, back twisted so that it formed a proper spine.
"What the hell? I thought I killed them all!" he growls.
"No," Ethan answers flatly. "You didn't kill the original."
Suddenly, there's a gust of wind stronger than the surrounding one right in front of him. Soul shields his eyes from the blast. When he glances up, it's no longer Ethan who's standing there. It's another one of those beasts standing on two hind legs, glaring with amber eyes. "What the fuck is going on here?!"
"Soul Evans," the pre-kishin rumbles. "We've been waiting a very long time to collect a soul like yours."
"What'd you do to Ethan?!"
The beast draws out its long claws. "The boy escaped us. He is hiding somewhere, but his soul does not matter to us," the thing answers in a low growl. "A powerful soul like yours is needed to keep us alive. We must collect it."
The others begin to surround him, rearing up to pounce simultaneously.
With no other choice to escape, he'd have to fight them.
"Sorry, Maka. I might not be able to go home for a while," he frowns, murmuring to himself.
He guesses that it's gonna be a very, very long night after all.
Tsubaki had been peacefully reading her book while resting on her chair when all of a sudden, her phone vibrates violently against her coffee table. She was glad that BlackStar was asleep in the other room, snoring away. She quickly sets down her book and hurries over to the table and answers. "Hello?"
"Ts-Tsubaki?" Maka's panicked voice comes from the other line. She could hear the fear in her voice.
"Yeah, what's wrong Maka? Is Soul back from his mission yet?" she asks, offering a concerned look that was unseen by her friend.
"Well, he isn't back yet and I'm getting worried," she answers. "It's been eight hours now. His flight is seven hours, so he'll probably be too late."
"Oh, well I'm sure he'll be back in time," she offers cheerily. "So, what do you want me to do for you?"
"Um, can you drive me to the hospital instead?" she asks.
"Oh, sure! Why, are you feeling a bit nervous?" she smiles.
"No, because my water just broke."
Tsubaki jumps up from the table, rushing over to the door. "Hold on, I'll be right there!" She grabs her coat and car keys and runs out the door.
In a blur of passing hospital ceiling lights, they use a stretcher to roll her into the nearest emergency room.
Maka had been laying in bed as usual, watching the TV, waiting for time to pass away, and holding the phone in her hand just in case Soul decided to give her a courteous call or something. She had gotten the urge to go to the bathroom and a single contraction from her baby, then made her way to the bathroom. However, as she went she discovered that her baby decided on its own that it was time to leave her mother's womb.
Of course, Maka had done her share in studying about babies. Instead of her usual intellectual story books, they were all replaced with how-to's and facts about pregnancy. She's still apprehensive yet excited; she heard many stories of painful deliveries, some lasting up to 15 hours, even. Despite all the worry and the possibility of having a miscarriage, she's still eager to have her child.
The doctors wheel her into a room of white walls and white tile floors and a white ceiling with strange beeping monitors of different sizes. "Relax, Mrs. Evans."
Maka winces suddenly; the baby's spastic movements were more harder as it pushes against her womb. "What happens now?" she asks in a slightly strained voice. "Can I call my husband...?"
"We'll get him on the phone as soon as possible. For now, ma'am, we need you to relax, okay?" the nurse soothes. "The more you feel the baby, the better."
Another contraction causes Maka to let out a yelp of pain. "S-she's kicking," she murmurs. Feisty, just like her mother. The thought made her smile weakly.
"That means she's prepping to leave the birth canal," the doctor informs her as they hook her arm up to a heart monitor machine. "You're ready to go into labor now."
"That's great," she murmurs dryly. "Where's the phone? I need to call my husband..."
"Don't worry, your friend will call him for you."
Maka felt her baby kicking more intensely now, more frequently. "Okay..."
"We're gonna need you to spread your legs open."
Maka stifles a blush on her face as they bend down near her hospital gown at the end of her bed with her legs spread apart.
"Lay back your head for us, please."
She does as she's told.
"When you feel the next contraction, you'll push as hard as your can, understand?"
She nods nervously.
"Ready?"
She gulps and inhales deeply and gives the hardest push she could muster.
Soul fumbles clumsily with his phone as it rings, and ducks another attack. Three of the beasts have him surrounded in the field, snapping at him, slashing at him. Soul answers and holds it to his ear while the other scythe arm is being bit on by one of the wolf-like creatures. "Hello?! Who's this?!" he demands as he shakes his scythe arm up and down, trying to get rid of the beast as it hung onto it.
"Soul? This is Tsubaki. You sound busy, maybe I should call you back," a concerned Tsubaki says.
Soul manages to fling the monster into the other beast, who had been trying to slash at his legs. They both tumble backwards. "No! I-I mean, what's goin' on with Maka?!" he shouts and ducks after one leaps for his throat.
"Soul, she's in labor. Actually, she's been in labor for 2 hours now. I tried calling you earlier but you didn't pick up. Anyways, she really needs you with her."
"Shit!" Soul curses through grit teeth. His baby would be conceived without the presence of her father. "Tell her..." He's distracted by the pre-kishin who's trying to snap his scythe arm in half. He turns around and sees another beast charging from the distance while the others are used to distract him. "Tell her that I'll be right there!" he yells roughly as the monster makes contact and rams right into the tip of his scythe, piercing its forehead.
It gives a loud roar and flees into the distance, back to regroup with the rest of its pack. "What was that?" Tsubaki asks.
"Um...just some monsters!" he manages. "Hold on a sec, will ya?!" He jams his phone into his pocket and transforms into a full, flying scythe. The creatures scatter as his blade lands tip-in against the snow, right where they were standing. He turns back into human form and answers. "Okay, what were you sayin'?"
"I was saying that Maka needs you right now."
"I know, I know! I'm just a bit busy here! I'll be there tomorrow!" he yells over the growls.
"But Soul - "
"Tell her that I'm having a tough time, but I'm trying as hard as I can!"
"Soul, she's - "
One of the wolf-like things closes its jaws around his ankles, biting down hard. Soul cries out with pain, shaking his leg vigorously to get it off. Its teeth sank down into his skin. He could see red seeping from his thick snow pants and spreading. "FUCK!" he shouts as he kicks the thing in the snout, sending it backwards. "Ow!"
"Soul, please listen for a moment - "
"I need to call you back, Tsubaki!" He shuts the phone and crams it into his pocket, now limping with a trail of blood behind his left leg. The other three would-be kishins who were standing on their hind legs were sprinting towards him with inhuman speed.
The complications started earlier on, to her dismay. Maka was experiencing agonizing pain and a burning sensation in her lower back, which was a cause for worry from the doctors. Pain wasn't unusual, but the burning was. They still haven't seen the partial head of the baby emerging, even though she's already 4 hours into labor. It's too early in the delivery for the doctors to decide that anything went wrong. They decided to wait it out.
She was exhausted, a coat of sweat shining against her forehead, each breath heavy and drawn out. The doctors had tried to urge her on, but it was hopeless. She was laying on the bed, panting, skin paler than usual. The heart rate monitor attached to her shows that her beats are faster as each spike of green dashes across the screen with a single ping. "Ma'am, you have to keep on pushing or else the baby won't come out," the nurse urges.
"I know!" Maka forces the words out of her throat. "I'm so t-tired, though."
"We understand ma'am. But you need to keep going."
She inhales a sharp breath and pushes as hard as she could muster, letting out strained grunts of effort. No success. The fatigue was starting to encompass her body as she heaved in for air.
"W...where's Soul...?" she murmurs weakly. She turns her head to Tsubaki, who's sitting faithfully by her side.
Tsubaki frowns. "He's busy, Maka. But he promised that he'd be home soon," she says gently, squeezing her best friend's hand tighter.
Maka's face contorts into agony and grunts with pain as another feeling jabs her in her back. "O-okay..."
The doctor approaches her slowly. "Ma'am, if this pain is too intense for you then we can offer you en epidural. It's a large needle that - "
"No, no," she insists weakly. "I need...Soul..."
Even though Tsubaki sat with her, encouraging her and grasping her hand, it can't be the same. She wants Soul's hand, not just any hand. She wants his hand, which was rough and warm and gentle at the same time. She wants to hold the same hands that guided her while she held the scythe, the same fingers that intertwined with hers as they became partners, the same hands that held her close as they danced, the very hands that she had gotten so familiar with touching over all these years. She doesn't care for anyone else who wants to comfort her, she only wants her husband sitting next to her. She wants him to be there when their newborn draws its first breath.
"Mrs. Evans?" the doctor asks. "You have to keep going, okay? Just push as hard as you can. Ready? One, two, three..."
He finally manages to slay two of the monsters that we all on four legs, and one of the two-leggers. Two more to go. Their souls hover over their decomposing bodies of black flesh, unraveling slowly and steaming against the melting snow. He hadn't bothered to pick them up because he knows that if he lets his guard, down the other two would come charging at him.
His battle had taken a massive toll on him; one sleeve was ripped from his arm, the other arm had a giant gash across his forearm, leaking blood. His bitten ankle is weakening with each step and leaving a slight trail of red in the white ground, he's bruised and scratched up in many different places, and his jacket had been torn through. Soul's hunched over, clenching his side, glancing around constantly while the unmerciful cold gusts against his numb face. His breaths are shallow and short.
He checks his phone. He'd been out here for 6 hours, but the plane ride was 7 hours. His thoughts flash onto Maka. He guesses that she's been in labor for about 4 or 5 hours, considering that Tsubaki called 2 hours after he arrived. He wonders sourly if she already conceived. If she's holding the baby already, waiting for his return. He shakes himself from the thought and concentrates back on the mission.
Soul shivers. He hasn't seen the two bipedal creatures for a while now. Maybe they had fled? He only wishes that, so he could get home and see his new kid and wife. He aches to see her. Soul would much rather be at the hospital, waiting patiently next to her than braving the Siberian cold while fending off monsters that wanted nothing else but to kill him. He wants them to show their ugly-ass faces so that he can kill them and eat their souls, make it back to the helicopter by finding the path back and -
Wait the fuck up. Where was the path anyways? The sudden thought dawns him and his thoughts begin to shift. He was in the middle of a snowy field, visibility down to nothing due to the blizzard. His footsteps had been covered up with another layer of snow. Soul swings around and sees the same sight - nothing but snow for miles. "Where the fuck am I?!" he demands himself.
He spins around and still nothing. He was completely surrounded by nothingness, no marks to lead him into the forest, no indication of how he even got here. Soul stares straight ahead, deciding on what direction he should go. He had been so engrossed in the fight that he didn't even know that they led him into a field, completely exposed on all sides. He decides that forward would be the best option. If he can find the edge of a forest and make it inside, he'd at least have some shelter from the winds and he wouldn't be completely in the open.
Soul starts with a limp, slowly gaining speed. He keeps looking on both sides, making sure that those things aren't near him. He's still worried in the back of his mind that they would be approaching him from out of nowhere, so he focuses on his hearing while his legs stumble forwards. With a good start towards the woods, he sees nothing so far, no hint of the pre-kishins anywhere. He makes a good distance away from where he last stood. Still nothing around him.
He doesn't see their silhouettes in the darkness, nor does he hear their growls for what feels like a long time. But then again, those monsters had never stopped hunting him despite being out of his sight. Soon enough, right as the shadows of a looming forest edge appears in his line of vision, he sees them. Soul stops where he stands, only about 20 feet from the sheltering woods. They're lying in wait, not on the ground. The two of them had buried themselves under the waist-deep snow, poised, waiting for him to unknowingly step near them like a lost puppy so that they could spring up and kill him. But, their plan was foiled by something they failed to take into consideration - their glowing amber eyes that gives them away.
He's about 10 feet away from them. They don't seem to realize that he's aware that they're there. Soul glances to his right. Nothing but snow. The same sight on his left. He has no choice; he would either die waiting for them to make a move or die trying to make the first move himself, with a small possibility of winnin after taking on both of them with all of his injuries. Either way he'd die.
"Screw it," he mutters. He digs around in his torn pocket and finds his cellphone. He flips it open and scowls. No service from where he is. He lifts it up to the frozen sky. Still no bars. He guesses he would never be able to tell Maka how much he misses her before he's gone forever. Too bad he'd never get to see the face of his beautiful daughter or get to caress her. He frowns. "You know what guys?" He murmurs to himself. The pre-kishins don't hear him as his trudges closer. "My daughter needs me. My wife needs me. Whatever's gonna happen tonight, Papa's gonna get home."
With those words, he charges towards them with his scythe arm brandishing.
She gives a loud grunt of pain, a strained cry from deep inside her throat as she summons another push.
Eight hours into labor, still no sign of her husband.
None of his previous missions had taken this long. Maybe his flight is being delayed? Maybe he's hurt somewhere, all alone in the snow, freezing to death. Tsubaki had been calling him constantly for the last 4 hours since the last time he picked up, but ever since then he hasn't responded, which adds onto her growing long list of worries. "Ma'am? We need you to keep trying, okay?" the nurse coaxes.
"I can't..." Maka breathes. "I'm too tired..."
She makes one last attempt. A scream of effort and a grunt later, still nothing. The doctors are slightly worried because they still haven't seen any sign of the baby, and the birth canal isn't showing any sign of her coming out. Growing weaker with each futile push, the blonde lets out a yelp, and then sinks into the bed further, exhausted.
Tsubaki clenches her fists on her laps as she watches her friend struggle. Maka doesn't look good at all; her skin has paled, she looks frail, she's drenched in her own sweat. After being like this for 8 hours, the nurses have offered her an epidural, which would reduce her pain. But she refused. The only thing that Tsubaki can do is sit next to her, giving her coaxing advice, calling Soul every once in a while only to have a message telling her to leave a message.
As Maka lays helplessly on the hospital bed, the one of the doctor's eyes widen as he observes her. He leans over and whispers to one of the nurses. He clears his throat. "Mrs. Evans?" Maka rouses slightly, tilting her head slowly to acknowledge him. "We have noticed something serious that could put you and your baby at risk..."
His ragged breaths give way to more steam from his mouth as he pants. He had disturbed one of them early on by charging at them. He managed to catch on off guard and stab it while the other one lunged at him, and he transformed and avoided the attack. Instead, the pre-kishin ended up attacking the other monster that was standing right behind Soul by accident. Its large jaws sank down into its black flesh and tore it like paper. Afterward, without any reaction, it rose off the ground and centered its hateful gaze on him. It didn't seem remorseful for killing its own ally. The other one lays dying while the last two-legged creature glares at Soul. This one must be the original, seeing that there was no other one left.
Now the only thing that's left is to decide: fight it and die, fight it and win, or make a run towards the forest. He's 10 feet away from the forest, so close to a some-what safe place. He can just sprint towards it, if his body allows it. But his dexterity is compromised thanks to his wounds and the cold. Even if he summons the rest of his strength, he would lose because his opponent is not wounded at all, giving it an advantage. The air is frigid, probably bellow 20 degrees already. He had read that Siberia can be as cold as negative 35 degrees, which was often unlivable in. He's tired and hungry and thirsty and too afraid to drinking the ice water in fear of freezing from the inside out instead of the other way around. Soul's condition is worsening by the hour. 8 hours in the snow was enough already. "Come and get me, ya ugly-ass bastard!" he taunts the beast. "Don't you want my soul?!"
He senses the monster smirking, licking its lips with grotesque delight. He only keeps a steady gaze on Soul as he edges towards the forest edge slowly, footstep by footstep. It seems unfazed by the cold. After each cautious step, the thing finally decides to fight him itself. It hunches over on all fours and sprints towards him. Soul rears his scythe hand back to prepare for battle. Letting out a screechy roar, its eyes ignite dangerously and its long talons stretch out and dig into the snow. It runs with the likeness of a freight train, bulldozing through the waist-deep snow and never hesitating to cringe under the blizzard winds.
Soul gulps. "Shit," he murmurs under his breath. The thing was faster than he expected, covering 5 feet in only 2 minutes. He thinks he can't stand a chance. "Shit!" he yells as he spins around and starts to limp as fast as he could towards the other way. He can hear its heavy pants as it nears him. He can't get away fast enough. What the hell was he thinking? He's gonna get killed. He staggers as fast as he can, reopening some of the scratches on his legs. "SHIT!"
The monster leaps above him and pounces. Soul dives into the snow before its long claws can plant themselves into his cranium. He rolls back up while the pre-kishin rears its head around and straightens its back and stands on two legs once again. "Soul Evans," it rasps. "Your soul will give my brethren much power. You soul is needed for our survival."
"Yeah, that ain't happening," he scowls. "But if you want my soul so badly, then come and take it from me yourself."
He raises his scythe arm as it lunges at him with its giant nail-like claws. Soul parries and then blocks a triad of claws that slashes at his chest. It hisses at him and tackles him to the ground. Soul slips his foot on its underbelly and kicks it off him, just as he did with the other one. It tumbles backwards and into the snow, but stops itself by digging its talons into the snow, then launches itself at him.
Soul transforms into a full scythe and spins right past the monster's head, narrowly missing. When he transforms back into human form, the monster's tail wraps around his ankle tightly. "Your soul will be tasty!" it grins as its tail flings him in the air. Startled, Soul crash lands face-first into the icy snow. Before he can push himself off the ground, its tail coils around his stomach and lifts him up. It whips him around at a dizzying speed, and then hurls him into the ground.
Soul yells with pain. Its attack had happened too fast for him to register it. He collapses face-down in the frigid snow, nearing unconsciousness. One of its paws turn him. When his blurry vision adjusts, the monster it on top of him, looking down at him with those illuminated yellow eyes. Both of its clawed hands pin his wrists to the ground. "Time to eat," it coos, black blood dripping from its grinning maw and onto his face. Soul scrunches his nose up with disgusts as he tries to squirm free. The pre-kishin's forked tongue lolls from its mouth, skimming over his cheek, warm and slimy.
"Gross!" Soul growls at it while it lowers its head towards his, jaws opening wide. Beyond his shiny row of jagged teeth, there was nothing but black. Soul grimaces. He tries to wriggle his scythe arm free, but it was caught between the hard ice snow and its three-clawed hand. So was his other arm.
As its face nears, an idea pops into his head. "Chow time..." its rasps, mouth large enough to swallow Soul's head clean off.
"Not today," he mutters. With a loud grunt, he head-butts the thing's snout with his frozen forehead.
The creature gives an enraged roar and presses both hands against its snout. Soul takes his chance while it is off of him. He rises and drives its blade right in the middle of its stomach, ripping a black-blooded rift in its belly. Soul withdraws his blade and jabs again, and again, and again, and again until the thing was just a pile of shreds, leaving an abnormally large red soul in its midst. Its dying screams echo throughout the empty field.
He's done it; the last would-be kishin is dead. He collects the soul and tucks it into his jacket for Ethan, even though the lazy bastard didn't even help him one bit. Soul starts to walk back, teeth grit, stifling agonized groans of pain. Even though the battle had just ended for him a new one has formed: finding the way back home without freezing to death out here.
The Siberian winter is now taking its toll on him. He can't feel his legs, or his fingers, or his face anymore. The only thing he could feel is the warm, kishin egg soul resting up against the inside of his jacket, where he had tucked it. The woods are intimidating in the dark. He stops and panics every time he hears even the slightest movement. He even gets slightly startled every time he steps upon a dead branch and the crunch resonates against every tree around him.
He doesn't even know where he's going. Soul is just listlessly wandering around, searching for a hint of civilization, or even Ethan, or the whir of the helicopter blades in the distance. Still nothing. He slips out his phone and holds it up to the sky. Still no signal. He'd been out there for 12 hours now. By this time, he bets that Maka was caressing their little girl, singing her a soft lullaby, promising that her Papa would come home in no time. But what if he doesn't, permanently?
Soul clutches his bleeding side, each step growing weaker and slower. His legs are buckling under the weight of his own body, there's no pathway back to the copter, and Ethan is nowhere in sight, which was starting to worry him. What if those monsters had killed him while they were separated?
Stomach growling, appendages frozen, and dying of thirst, he continues to wander aimlessly through the pitch-black forest. He comes upon the wide bark of a tall tree, and leans up against it to rest for a moment. Inside the forest, where trees were abundant and the wind is less severe, it was still the same temperature. Shriveling up against the snow-dusted brown bark, he sinks to his knees.
Frowning, Soul rummages around for his phone in his pocket. Still no signal. His eyes gravitate to the time. Already midnight in Russia. He places it back into his coat and hugs his knees, rubbing his hand together to create as much warmth as he can. Fatigue settles into every muscle and every ounce of his body. If he succumbs to the sleepiness, he'd die of hypothermia.
He raises his eyes to the sky, observing petite crystals of white falling from the heavens above and landing on the tip of his nose. He slumps down into his small pile of snow gathered around him. He guesses that he wouldn't be coming home at all. "Sorry, Maka..." he whispers as his eyelids become heavy, everything around him disappears, and exhaustion and fatigue robs him of his consciousness.
She's too weak to realize that they are wheeling her away from her old room, into a new one with an operating room with those tools. The doctors are swarming around her in a blurry mess, all with masks. She can't tell what's going on. The only voice guiding her is Tsubaki's, who has been with her for the past 12 hours while she was in labor. So many words had been spoken to her, but she failed to understand them all. She's having delivery problems? Something about internal bleeding? A c-section? She was too exhausted to understand and comprehend anything anymore.
Maka can only feel intense pain in the lower-half of her body. Everything else is numb, and she's too lethargic to lift her head, or even to be curious. Too tired to push. Even each breath takes up too much energy that she can't afford. they hoist her up slowly, carefully, and set her down in a white room with many shelves and surgical tools resting on a small tray. A glaring white light beams down on her, making her cringe.
A nurse approaches her slowly with a white mask over her mouth and face. She holds a mouth tube as she hovers over the blonde. "Mrs. Evans, we're going to put you under now. When you wake up, you and your baby will be just fine," she reassures mechanically.
"What...about...Soul...?" she murmurs weakly.
"Your friend is still trying to contact him. But don't worry, you'll be fine."
She gently places the mouth piece over her mouth and nose, and Maka succumbs to the anesthetic and falls into a deep, peaceful sleep on the operating table. The doctors start right away.
Tsubaki stands outside of the surgery room, right in front of the closed door. Her heart beats loudly, nervously. Unbeknownst to Maka, the doctors had informed her of the real problem of her friend. Her pregnancy was perfect from the first to the last month. However, they noticed something odd as her labor went on. First, the baby's head was not visible from the birth canal even after hours and hours spent on pushing. In fact, they hadn't even seen a hint of her emerging. It also seems that during her pregnancy an usual complication had shown up: internal bleeding near her cervix, which is abnormal when it came to pregnancy. Usually, if enough medical attention was given with the right amount of care and persistence, the delivery should go well and normal. Also, labor hours usually depend on the woman herself and there was nothing abnormal about going through more than 12 hours of labor, but her condition is worrying the doctors. They feared that if she kept going at the rate she's currently going at, the baby and her would not make it.
The black-haired girl sinks down to the floor while hugging her knees, listening to the doctors bark orders at each other from the other side of the door. They informed her that the c-section could take up to 2 hours more. It was a dangerous process since she was bleeding, so they would have to be extremely careful or else Maka herself would die. They would also have to be wary of the stress that the delivery was putting on her body, so she's fragile.
"I need a scalpel, stat!"
"Sir, we need to stop the bleeding."
"We're applying an IV to her right now."
"Be careful with that."
"Sir, her heart rate is becoming irregular."
"I need a rag to stop the flow of blood."
She leans her forehead down against the tops of her knees. She's sick of hearing the watered-down words of the doctors, sprinkled with lies. She doesn't care for the false sense of comfort that they were giving her. She knew that her best friend's life was in danger, as well as her child. And Soul was still nowhere to be seen.
He thinks that he's floating. That's what he felt while he had fallen asleep. For some reason, a jolt of nervousness had woken him in the middle of his dream where he was dreaming about himself floating up towards the sky. He can't figure out what had roused him, but he just felt like something was wrong. Like some type of fatherly instinct deep in his freezing guts slapped him awake. It's either that, or the lack of food and water is making him delirious.
Too frozen to check his phone for the time, he guesses that he's been huddled against the tree stump for about an hour or two. Maybe even more. He's lost all of his bearings now. His legs are numb all the way to his waist, his fingers had no feeling at all even as he flexed them, and his head was dusted with a layer of snow. He pulls his jacket around him tighter, burying his face in between his knees, rubbing his hands together to create heat that he would be too cold to feel. The kishin's soul rests up against his chest silently. Damn, he's temped to just stuff it down his throat instead of starving.
He resists the urge sourly. Maybe help'll come soon enough. Maybe the helicopter, with Ethan inside, is currently soaring through the sky and looking for him. There's no way they'd find him through the thick evergreen foliage. He'd just wither away in the Siberian tundra, and no one would ever know he was there.
He closes his eyes but he's afraid of falling asleep. What if he never woke up again?
Instead, he busies his mind with memories, imaginations of him and his new daughter. He actually manages a smile. He imagines laughing with her, looking straight into those shining olive eyes, bright and curious. Just like her mother's eyes. Maybe she'd even have white hair, just like her father. He clings to the vision of all three of them, smiling. Maybe, he thinks with a devious smirk, he'd convince Maka to have a second.
He'd much rather envision his would-be family than brave the winter and wait for himself to freeze to death. He buries his nose deeper, suddenly catching the scent of something familiar, something floral. It's Maka's pink scarf. He inhales the scent of faint perfume and a pang of sadness runs through his body. The least he can do is tell her that he loves her before she and their new daughter would never get to see him again.
Soul blows warm air into his hands from his mouth and rubs them together in a futile attempt to unfreeze his hands. He commands his fingers to dig through his pocket and fish out the phone. He flips it open tentatively. There's one bar. Eyelids getting increasingly heavy, he dials the number painfully slow, and waits while the phone rings away.
Tsubaki's jolted awake by the sudden vibration of Maka's phone against the tiled hospital floor. She picks it up and sees that the caller is Soul, and wave of relief hits her. She answers immediately. "Hello? Soul, is that you?"
For some reason, the only thing that can be heard is a strange static droning on in the background.
"Soul?! Soul?! Hello?! Answer me!"
The only response she can hear is the wind howling on the other side, and then a sudden thump.
"Soul, can you hear me?! Soul!"
She waits a few more minutes and listens to the noise.
With frustration, she slams the phone down on the tiled floor of the hospital and closes her eyes.
On the other side of the line, still stuck in the Russian winter, is the white-haired weapon, fallen face-down in the snow, limp hand barely grasping the illuminated cellphone.
"I see him! DOWN THERE!"
"Hurry, he doesn't look so good!"
"Lower it down!"
He's slightly annoyed that the panicked screams of people had roused him. He was in the middle of a nice nap, too. He can't remember where he had decided to nap - the couch in their apartment, maybe? Or even his bedroom. The strangest thing is that he can't feel his legs or arms. Maybe they fell asleep and all he had to do was jiggle them awake. He feels hands fondling with his sides, and senses them lifting him up gently and onto a hard surface. In the distance, he can hear a really loud whirring sound. "Lift him up!"
The sensation of floating returns on his body. For a while, nothing disturbs him in his half-conscious state. He can't move his body. The floating stops, and another pair of hand lifts him up slowly and sets him down on a flat surface. "Soul! Listen to me. If you don't keep yourself awake, then you'll die," a familiar voice says.
Soul can't respond, although he's trying his best to even twitch a finger.
A hand clamps down on his. "If you can hear me, make some kind of movement," the baritone rumbles. In his paralyzed state, he finally manages to twitch his index finger. He hears the man chuckle shortly after. "You gave me quite a scare there, Eater. I always hated surprises. That's not the kind of man I was."
His voice registers into Soul's head. It was Sid's.
"Thanks to Ethan's Soul Perception, we found you just in time," Sid says. Soul can hear the smile and gladness in his voice. "This'll keep you warm for a while. In the meantime, good work." He directs his voice to the helicopter pilot. "Hey! Take us home already!"
The copter lurches forward and advances through the blizzard.
Soul lolls his head to the side as feeling returns to his hands and feet. He opens his eyes, finding that he was laying flat, covered in a bundle of blankets on the helicopter floor. Sid resides on the bench, watching out the window carefully. "Sid..." he croaks weakly. "How long..."
Sid shoots him a concerned gaze. "How long what?"
Soul clears his throat roughly. "How long does it take to fly from Russia to Nevada?" he asks, voice still hoarse.
"Hm..." he thinks for a moment. "Maybe eight or nine hours."
Soul frowns weakly. "Can you do me a favor? I need to get there as fast as we can, and land right at Death City Hospital. Can you do that?"
"Why?"
"I need to be there. Right now. Just do it."
"Tell me why then, Eater."
"Maka's giving birth, and I need to see her," he finishes.
Sid smirks. "Soul, you're the one who needs the hospital the most. We were planning on transferring you to a hospital in Moscow temporarily. You need medical attention."
Soul's face contorts into a slight scowl. "Fuck that. I'm fine, I swear. Just get me there."
The blue man shakes his head slowly. "I can't let one of my students die on my hands. That's not the kind of man I am."
"If you were half the man you were, then you'd let me see my kid right after she breathes her first breath. You'd understand, right?" Soul deadpans, breathless.
Sid frowns. "Now, now, Eater. I know you want to see your wife, but what kind of husband dies before he gets there? I'm sure Maka wants to see you as much as you want to see her, but in the condition you're in there's nothing good that'll come out of it. Wouldn't you be adding to her worries since she has a child to take care of, as well as yourself?"
Soul quiets. He sighs and digs his face further into Maka's pink scarf, tattered, but still wrapped gently against his neck. "...Can I at least call her and tell her that I'm alright?"
"I don't see why now," he answers plainly.
Soul finds his phone, opens it for the fourth time today. It's running out of battery by now. He dials her number again. "Hello? Maka?"
To his surprise, it's not Maka that picks up. "Soul? Hey, where are you?" Tsubaki asks. There's worry in her voice.
"Where's Maka right now? How did the delivery go?" he asks.
"Soul...I can't tell you right now. You need to come here, right now." The urgency in her tone makes him feel nervous.
"Why? What happened? Is something wrong?" he launches a volley of questions.
"...Just come."
The line on the other side hangs up immediately. Soul is left speechless while his phone is held loosely in his hand. Sid perks an eyebrow at his rigidness, and he's sure it isn't because of the cold. "Something bad happen?" he asks.
"Maka's needs me," he answers distantly while his mind imagines what kind of horrible situation his wife could be in.
Soul glances hopelessly at the zombie man with a near-desperate gaze. Sid's brows furrow. "I'm not the type of man to stray from my words." Soul's gaze refuses to waver. With a prolonged sigh, Sid stands up and ventures over to the cockpit. "I'll see what I can do."
The hospital clerk is sitting at the front desk, casually searching through scattered papers. In Death City Hospital, 2 am was usually a peaceful time. However, on this particular day, she hears a strangely loud noise that sounded like blades whirring from outside the sliding doors. She's not mistaken. She runs from her desk and near the sliding doors, where a strong gust of wind blasts the door open. She gasps. Right outside was a full-blown helicopter, hovering over the ground as its propellors spun constantly. Her jaw drops. The side door swings open forcefully. A blue man with black wide dreadlocks supports another younger looking man with bleach-white hair and garnet eyes as they hop from inside the copter and limp towards her slowly. The white-haired boy looks as if he had just been through a battlefield during World War II.
The blue man glances up at her and acknowledges her with a nod. "We need some help here," he says.
The attendant shakes away her disbelief. "Um...I can get him on a gurney and into the next room - "
He shakes his head. "We need to see someone. Mrs. Evans?"
She nods. "Yes, she came in earlier today for delivery but they had to bring her to get a c-section."
"Can you tell us what room?"
"Room 117 on the second floor."
"Thanks."
With Soul leaning on his shoulder, Sid guides him to the elevator.
In a blur, they make it to the second floor and immediately start towards the left, where her room would be located. Soul can feel his stomach churning.
Finally, the room comes into sight. He can see Tsubaki, hugging her knees gently, gazing listlessly at the ground. Then, two more people standing across from her. Kid and Star, looking hopelessly lost, both gazing on the ground. Soul slows his footsteps, and Sid slips away from under his arm. "Soul, you're on your own now." Sid trots back and turns the corner.
Still injured, he lumbers towards his forlorn friends. Upon closer look, he can see Tsubaki's eyes all red and puffy. "What happened?" he asks slowly, fearing the answer would not be the one that he wants to hear. "Is Maka...alright?"
Kid lowers his gaze even more. He grits his teeth, and then shakes his head. "It's not for me to tell you," he answers with a low voice. "You have to have a look for yourself."
Tsubaki sniffles. "I'm so sorry."
Soul's worst fear has been realized. He turns his head to the white door with the label 'SURGERY' on it. He swings around and places a hand on the cold handle. He turns and pushes it open slowly, apprehensively. And then he swings it open.
There's nothing inside. An empty room. Soul glances around frantically. Even the surgical table was empty with nothing but a white sheet covering it. The light's still on, and tools are still lined up neatly along the tray. As if no one had been in here. "Where's Maka?" he asks aloud. His friends refuse to answer. As he limps further in the room cautiously, he knows there's nothing here but he can't help a dark feeling in the core of his chest.
He makes it around to the other side of the operating table and rests his body on the edge. An eerie feeling overcomes him. For some reason, his eyes gravitate downwards. Jutting out from the bottom of the table was a note written on yellow paper. As he bends down to retrieve it, he swears that he can see that there's a faint bloody thumbprint on the bottom left corner. He lifts it to the light.
After a moment, the note slips from his finger and floats down to the floor and settles against the white tiles, right where it had been found. Soul lifts his head slowly, failing to process the words scribbled on the paper. He lets his shoulders slump and eyes grow distant. He sits there in silence, lost in his mind, not sure whether to pass the note off as a cruel, cruel joke or if it's something real.
The words scrawled in black ink could not be true. Everything written on that note is a lie.
There's a sudden knock at the door. He turns his body slowly and sees a young woman standing at the door way, brunette hair tied back in a bun. "Mr. Evans?" she asks. "I'm so sorry for your loss." He can tell from the look in her eye that she was genuinely offering her sympathy for him. "Have the doctors told you yet?"
Soul shakes his head distantly. "I know..."
"I'm really, truly sorry," she answers with a sad look. "Your wife never made it off the table."
He nods again. "I know." Not once does his voice break or quiver. His mind flashes back to the words written in black on the yellow piece of paper:
Maka Evans
Time of death: 1:27 am
Cause of death: internal bleeding during unsuccessful c-section
Child could not be saved
Just an hour before he had arrived.
The nurse kept a concerned gaze on him as he slips off the operating table, steadying himself on both his feet. "Sir, I'm afraid you'll have to leave this room."
Soul staggers for a few steps, then sinks to his knees. "Sir, are you okay?! Sir!" The woman runs to his side. Tsubaki and Kid and Star stand in the doorway and rush over to him.
Their voices become a muffled mix of sounds hitting his ears.
"Hey Soul! Get up!"
"Are you okay?! Sir!"
He falls against the cold, unforgiving floor while black dots materialize in his line of vision.
"Soul!" A rough hand shakes his shoulders as the rest of his body weakens.
At least if he were to die now, he'd know where he's going.
"Don't leave us, Soul! C'mon!"
He'd find a way to see his daughter and wife, even if it isn't in this lifetime.
"WAKE UP! Soul! Soul! Papa! PAPA - "
Soul shoots up, startled. The room around him is dark. He's drenched in a full layer of his own sweat. He fumbles around in the blackness toward the side of his bed near his pillow for the light switch to a nightstand lamp. He pulls the cord and a dim light illuminates a small portion of the room with a gentle amber glow. Still struggling to calm his gasping breaths, he leans his head on the backrest of their bed. Sweat glistens against his bare chest as he lays back.
Soul intakes one long breath. He closes his eyes, trying to clear his mind. A small head nudges his arm from the edge of the bed. "Papa? Papa! Wake up!" A small girl with long snowy white hair that graced her shoulders and large and curious mossy eyes stares at him with wonder.
He sighs. "I'm up, I'm up," he says. He turns his head to the other side of his bed. His wife rolls over to face the wall and gives a contented sigh as she settles back down. He turns his attention back to his 6-year-old daughter. "What is it, kiddo?" he breathes.
His daughter opens her mouth to say something, but seems a bit distracted. "Papa," she begins innocently. "Why are you crying?"
Soul gives her an incredulous look. "Crying? Me? I don't cry, sweetheart."
The girl leans over the edge and reaches her small hand up. She rests it on his cheek firmly. "Yes you are! Look!" She draws her hand back and uses the other hand to grab his. She uncurls his once-tight fists and unravels her own little fingers against his. He can feel something moist and warm against his hand. "Those are your tears."
"Eh?" he swings his head around the gives each eye a quick rub. "Those aren't tears...they're...uh..."
"Papa, why are you crying?" she reiterates. "Are you sad? Was it a nightmare?"
Soul doesn't know how to answer her, but he grins. "Yeah, I was sad. Because of my dream."
"What was it about?" she asks.
"Um...it was about my sandwich," he lies. "I dreamt that BlackStar ate it all and saved none for me."
She giggles gently. "Uncle BlackStar is so mean!"
Soul chuckles lightly. "Yeah, ain't he?" He clears his throat. "What are you doing here?"
"I had a nightmare, too. I had a dream that I was lost and I couldn't find Papa or Mama. I was scared." Soul smiles and hoists his daughter up on the bed, resting her against his chest.
"That sounds scary. Did you cry?" he asks.
"A little," she says quietly, resting her head on her father's collarbone. "But not as much as you did!" They both giggle quietly together since they wouldn't want Maka to rouse.
"Strong daddies like me don't cry," he says.
"Okay..." she murmurs.
"Dreams are just dreams, okay? They can't hurt you as long as we're here," he whispers.
"But dreams will always be here, right?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid we can't stop them. No matter how strong we get, we'll always have nightmares."
"You mean everyone?"
"Yeah."
"Everyone in the whole world?" she asks.
"Yes, everyone," he sighs.
"So will I have one again?"
"Probably. Just remember that everyone will get one."
"Okay. Goodnight, Papa."
"'Night, kiddo." He reaches over his daughter's head and pulls the cord to his lamp, shutting off the light.
After a while, he hears his daughter's breaths come to a steady, slow pace. He sets her down from his chest and onto the small space between his wife and himself. He tucks her in, drawing the covers up to her shoulders. He glances at Maka, still sleeping peacefully on her side. He settles back down and lets his head sink into his pillow.
For the last time, he reassures himself that it was all a dream.
He smirks to himself.
"Even Papas have nightmares."
A/N: But I never said that they were alive, did I? Ha, just kidding. So it was a dream after all. Review please!
~Amber
