Vicious Cycle
by. Poisoned Scarlet

Summary: They had acquired a vicious cycle whenever the other was hurt. Soul planned to stop this cycle once and for all. Even if it meant stopping their partnership to do it.
Rating: T for language.
Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort.
Pairing: Soul/Maka.
Authors Note: Just a little something for those of you that enjoy short stories.
Story Notes: I guess this is post-Soul Eater anime. I'm still getting to the manga – I'll read that once Soul Eater vol. 4 comes out here in the US in October. Until then, I'm sticking to the anime.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

"Maka! Maka, are you okay? Maka!"

She did it again.

She was breathing in dirt, a bloody hand firmly slapped on the ground as she tried to keep herself a few inches off the filthy floor. Her clothes were torn up, bloody, and whatever traces of victory that stained her lake green eyes had dulled with the spasms of pain that attacked her body.

She never learned.

She felt his hand gently reach under her, help her as she crawled on her knee's and leaned against his chest for support. She noticed, through pain-hazed eyes, that he was unharmed except for the scratches on the heels of his palm from where he had fallen on the floor when she let go, transforming because the Kishin had been about to deliver a final blow on her, and sliding to a stop in front of her, thereby making his hands catch on the uneven floor, and transforming his left arm into a blade so the claws of the Kishin could come to a screeching halt.

He had saved her yet again.

She felt him prod and check her for any extensive injuries and, after a few seconds of her shallow breathing, he was seemingly satisfied to find she no worse for wear and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her mud-streaked face.

When was she going to learn she couldn't keep doing this?

"What'd I tell you about putting yourself before me, you idiot?" His disapproving but concerned voice came from above her. "Look at you... you're a mess!" But he scooped her up in his arms gently and began his trek back to his motorcycle, briefly contemplating how he was going to drive them back with her in such bad condition.

"But..."

Soul snapped his head down at her, ignoring how small she appeared curled up in his arms, and leaned down to hear her properly. "Yeah?"

"You aren't hurt...are you?"

He sighed heavily. "No, I'm not, no thanks to you!" He frowned at the slight smile on her face. "Maka, I'm your weapon and you're my meister. You're not supposed to take all the damage, I am! What point is there to being a weapon if not to serve my meister? You're degrading me by keeping me out of danger, you know!"

He revved his bike, her beaten body resting on his lap as her head leaned against his chest. The wind ruffled her hair as Soul sped down the dark and dank road that led to Death City. They were only in the outskirts of town and Soul was inwardly relieved they were so close to their home – if they had been anywhere else, he would be fretting over her like Kid when he saw something unsymmetrical.

"You're not just my weapon..." She softly spoke, voice barely carrying over the guttering winds.

"What?"

Maka stayed silent and Soul just frowned, having not caught her last statement. Soon enough, given the hour of the night, they reached professor Stein's laboratory and Soul was picking up Maka in his arms and heading up the steps of the laboratory once more.

The door, to his creepy surprise, creaked open, revealing a pit of blackness inside. Soul peeked his head in, clutching Maka closer to his chest. "Hello? Professor Stein? It's me, Soul!"

He heard the vague squeak of wheels and eventually the professors dull voice reached his ears. "Soul? Do you know what time it is? Any normal person would be in their bed sleeping right now."

"Yeah, well, you're not a normal person, are you?" Soul shot back, tone returning to its previous graveness. "It's Maka."

A pale hand reached out from the pitch black and Stein's looming figure arouse, causing Soul to stumble a few steps back. The professor's eyes fixed on Maka's injured body, the frequent drip of blood that streamed down her thigh and hit the floor alarming him.

"Alright. Bring her inside, quickly. I'll check her up in a moment." Stein allowed Soul to scamper in, sighing as he saw the boy quickly rush into the clinical room to no doubt lay Maka down on the medical bed he often used to dissect his experiments.

It had become a vicious cycle, Stein noticed.

They would go out and combat Kishin, dangerous ones, and sometimes one of them would get severely hurt. The last time it had been Soul and Stein was pleased to see the boy handled his emotions better than Maka. The girl had literally banged on his door, yelling for him to come out and help Soul. Of course, he had been bleeding rather heavily, so her panic had been justified, but nevertheless Soul always had a better grasp on his emotions.

As Stein entered the room, snapping latex gloves on his hands and watching Soul rest a palm on Maka's forehead, his face blank but his blood red eyes distraught, the doctor had no doubt this was his own way of showing his immense concern over his meister.

"Now, then, would you mind explaining to me why Maka is beaten half to death?" Stein humored, reaching into his lab coat and pulling put a small bottle of morphine for the pain.

"We took on a mission to kill a Kishin who only came out at three am in the morning out by Death City," Soul explained, watching the doctor first check her over for injuries. "It was a pretty advanced mission but Maka thought we could handle him... "

"And you couldn't?"

"We did!" Soul defended her, deflating when Stein shot him a look of disbelief. "Alright, she did! But it wasn't my fault this time! She put herself before me, her weapon! That moron!" Soul pressed his lips together, calming down. "She always puts herself before me...how am I suppose to compete with that? Every time I try to protect her, she always ends up surprising me and getting hurt!"

"Maka treasures you as her weapon, Soul." Stein decided to say, as he pulled the plunger on the injection and allowed some morphine to fill the syringe. She had minor flesh wounds but the most pressing one was the deep gash that reached from her hip to her knee. She didn't have any internal injuries, as far as he could tell.

"Well, I treasure her as my meister!" Soul shot back.

"That might be the problem then." Stein rolled her on her back, not flinching when she whimpered as he grabbed her leg and injected the chemical into her body. "You both treasure each other far too much. It conflicts with your missions."

"What do you want us to do about it, then?"

"I would tell you to stop but since that's impossible," Stein began, taking out a roll of bandages from the stand beside the bed, "the only thing I could advise is to make a choice."

"A choice...?"

"Prioritize." Stein clarified, taking out some more needed equipment. "You are her weapon. She owns you, in a sense. And as her weapon, it is your obligation to protect and serve your meister. You understand this, but she does not. She views you as an equal to herself and this cannot be. You're a weapon, she's your meister. She is your first priority above all else."

"Try telling her that." Soul darkly said, clenching his jaw when Stein carelessly grabbed her bleeding leg and began to disinfect it. "Hey, watch it! She might not feel any pain but that doesn't give you the right to manhandle her!" He pulled his lips back, baring sharp teeth at the doctor who only smirked at his protective nature.

"Right. My bad." There wasn't much difference in his handling but at least, Soul saw with distaste, he stopped treating her like some lab experiment. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"About what?" Soul asked after a few more seconds of silence.

"This problem. You can't just keep running back to me everytime you or Maka get hurt."

"What's it matter to you?" Soul mumbled, frustratedly. "You don't sleep anyways..."

"It pertains to both of you: how many beatings could you both take before you're too bloody to reach me in time?" He challenged calmly, starting the bandaging process.

Soul flinched at his words. His eyes strayed back to Maka, her serene face that had once been twisted in pain, and felt his chest tighten with resolve. In the back of his mind, he could hear the skipping phonograph and the click of nails tapping on the top of a grand piano; the wet smack of lips stretching over razor teeth...

"I could give you power...power to protect her, to overcome your fear, Soul..."

I kept you for a reason. Be grateful, you damn demon.

Soul clenched his fists. "I'll talk to her."

"Whatever suits you best." Stein said, satisfied with the answer because of the determined spark in the boys eyes. "I'm only concerned about you and Maka's safety. These visits have become far too frequent..."

"Yeah, I know. Consider this the last time you ever see us here like this."

The skipping phonograph was silenced.

When she opened her eyes, it was to a dimly lit ceiling. Her body radiated aches of pain every time she tried to move so she quit after the second try. Her head pounded, it felt stuffed to the brim, but what most worried her was how her left leg felt almost nonexistent.

Her fingers tried to grab her thigh, tips barely brushing the fabric before a large hand grabbed it, startling her out of her goal to reach her leg. Maka's eyes sprung open but she relaxed when she saw it was just Soul, looking far graver than she had ever seen him.

"Soul?" Maka noticed he was in a different change of clothes, clean clothes, and smiled. He wasn't hurt! That was all that mattered to her. "What time is it?" She tried to sit up but his hand and her pained body disallowed her this.

"Does it hurt anywhere?" Soul asked instead, keeping her down on the bed with his hand.

"No, I'm fine." Maka lied, smiling through the debilitating pain.

His eyes narrowed, teeth gritting against each other in frustration. "No, you're not, you idiot!"

"I think I know if I'm in pain or not!" Maka angerly replied.

"Apparently, you don't. You're lying to me, Maka." Soul flicked the tip of a syringe with a finger, Maka's wide eyes on his person. "I'm getting really tired of this, you know."

At the words, her chest tightened. "Of what?"

"Of dragging you back here half-dead." Soul gave her a dark look. "Maka, this has to stop. I know you hate it when I get hurt but sometimes it's inevitable."

"No, it's not! You don't have to get hurt just because of my own mistakes!" Maka loudly shouted, gripping the sheets in her fists.

"Yes, I do!" Soul shouted, startling her. That was unsettling; Soul rarely became this furious with her. "You're my meister! I'll protect you with my life if I have to! That's my obligation, it's my job!" Soul growled, looming over her in a way that made her feel small. "I promised myself to never let you get hurt but you've laid here in Stein's room more times than I could count! Maka..." Soul closed his eyes to control his anger. "...You have to stop protecting me. It's not cool for a girl to protect a guy."

"That doesn't matter!" Maka argued. "Who care's if it's not cool or not! I-I'm never going to let you get hurt again!" She turned away from him, adding quietly: "I never want to see you hurt again..."

Soul gazed at her silently for a moment before sighing. "Something has to give. We can't keep doing this. Either you let me do my job or we both stop."

"Stop...?" She carefully repeated, unsure of what he meant by that. But the word itself, coupled by his severe eyes, was enough to make a stir of anxiety rile within her. "Soul, what do you mean by that?"

"...I can't have you hurt like this, Maka." Soul felt bitter before he even said the words. He didn't like tricking her in such a manner but there was no other choice; he honestly needed to regain control of their partnership. "Either you let me protect you or we stop being partners."

A heavy silence hung over them.

She nearly felt her heart stop; a paranoia and fear like no other gripping her and constricting her lungs. She could tell he was serious, too, by the way his eyes regarded her firmly; unflinchingly.

"You...want to stop being partners?" Her voice cracked.

He nearly gave right then and there; the utterly tragic look on her face reminded him of the time he had pulled an underhanded move in order to bring down Blair. Of course, it had been a feint but the betrayed expression on her face and tone didn't lessen the stab in his heart nonetheless. It was the same, only worse if that was possible, in those very moments. "You can't get hurt like this." His eyes strayed to her leg, bandaged; blood already seeping through the white gauze. He'd have to ask Stein to change it soon. "If leaving you will keep you out of danger..."

She filled in the rest.

"So this is...it?"

Now he felt bad. Now he felt panicked. He expected her to reject the idea but now she was agreeing with him. He swallowed, trying to keep his rising anxiety in check. If he knew her as well as he did then...

"You're...leaving me?"

The way she said it made his heart pound but he ignored it to speak normally; as normally as he could. "Not unless you accept that sometimes I have to get hurt so you won't. I'm your weapon, Maka! You can't pull this shit anymore! How many more times do you have to get hurt before you get it? I bet if I was just a regular scythe you wouldn't sacrifice yourself to protect me, would you?" He accused.

"There's a difference – you're alive, Soul!" Maka replied, fiercely. "You're a person and—!"

"—a weapon." He interrupted. "Your weapon. Until you decide you don't need me anymore, I'll always be here. But you can't keep hurting yourself for me like this!"

"But—!"

"Damn it, Maka!" Soul snarled, grabbing her shoulders and roughly bring her up; ignoring her soft cry of pain. "Listen to me! You. Can't. Keep. Getting. Hurt. You not only make me look bad but you could die, then what would I do? At least if I die, it's for you. It's all for you. Why can't you just understand that? I'll get hurt, so what? I'm a scythe – I can regenerate faster than normal and then we'll be right back out there doing what we do best!" Soul shouted, desperateness seeping into his words. "But you can't because you're a meister. You're my meister. I'll do anything for my meister!" His crimson eyes bore fiercely into her own frozen lake green ones. "Even if it means leaving you in order to protect you."

"How...would that even work?" Maka softly countered, voice gaining anger with every word: "How would it work? I'll just find a new weapon! It won't change anything!"

"But you'll never sacrifice yourself for that weapon."

"How do you know!" Maka screamed. "How do you know I wouldn't?"

"Because..." Soul's shoulders slumped. "You'll never be able to share a bond with him like you have with me. Face it, Maka – we've got something no one else does."

She pressed her lips together, unable to admit that he was right. It was hard to put in words, what they had, but simply put it wasn't natural. Their bond, their strength as a pair, they were a freakin' lethal team that worked perfectly to bring down their enemy; with a sync that left some staring in awe. The way she handled him, the way he knew what she was thinking before she even thought it herself, the way they predicted each others moves, thoughts, actions – it was insane.

She sighed in resignation. Even now, exhausted beyond belief, she knew exactly what he was expecting. Her giving in; agreeing with him. Although she had made an oath to herself that she'd never allow him to be hurt again, she could tell it was causing him grief to watch her throw him from danger when she knew he'd get hurt. But it hurt her to watch him get hurt...

Just think how it is for a weapon, something that's supposed to defend, watch his meister get mangled because she was too stubborn to let him do his job right, a traitorous voice snarked inside her. Maka exhaled wearily, leaning back on her hand for a moment before reaching forward and wrapping her arms around his torso silently.

Soul merely helped her forward, careful not to apply unneeded pressure on her leg, and let her cling to him. He had an idea of what was going on through that brilliant mind of hers: reason, denial, angst... But he knew she'd pull through; she always did.

It was all a matter of him taking that first step.

"I don't want to see you get hurt because of my failures..." Maka mumbled into his shirt, face warm at their contact. They always touched, their job required it, but embracing was intimate; far too intimate. "... but since you're so insistent..."

"They're not failures, Maka, just slip-ups." Soul chuckled at her grunt, the rumbling in his chest soothing her as she closed her eyes and smiled faintly. She didn't like the idea of having him take the heavy blows but, she guessed, if it caused him so much distress that he was willing to leave her to keep her safe, then she was willing to compromise.

"But if things get really rough, we're both bailing, got it?"

"Got it."

"And if I see that you're too beat up, we're stopping there, okay?"

"Yeah."

"And we're not going to recklessly head into battle! We have to think things through now!"

"Mmhmm."

"Oh! And if it looks too hard, we're not even going to consider the mission! We're taking easy missions from now on! I mean it! Soul? Are you listening to me? SOUL!" She snapped, noticing he wasn't paying attention to her in the least.

"You sure are loud for an injured person." Soul grinned, showing off his sharp rows of teeth. His hand twirled one of her pigtails, wrapping the silk hair around his finger fondly. "Stop worrying so much, Maka, that isn't cool. We'll both be fine."

Maka huffed, a frown tugging her lips. "Just because I'm agreeing with you doesn't mean I like it."

"Yeah, and just because you're seeing reason doesn't mean I'll still listen to you!"

She glared at his smug face.

"Hey, your bandages are getting really red. I'll go get Stein off his ass to change them. Wait here."

"It's not like I can go anywhere.." Maka mumbled acerbically, Soul grinning again.

"Knowing you, I wouldn't be surprised."

He left the room and Maka was alone again, reclining on her elbows as she watched the demented moon slowly decline on the skyline.

He was her weapon and she was his meister.

She supposed it was only reasonable the weapon would fight back to protect their meister; it was the morale they taught at DWMA: protect your meister against all odds. But she cared for Soul more than she should; she'd even seen several of her teachers gawk when she tried to protect him like she did. She guessed she was just letting her insecurities get the best of her again...

She couldn't live without Soul Eater.

But Soul Eater couldn't live without her.

Maka sighed in annoyance, dropping back on the bed as Stein yawned and came into the room, muttering something about mother-hen weapons and no coffee, Soul closely behind.

What were they going to do with each other, really?