A/N: Alright, so I guess this wraps up my first ever Resbang! I have to say this was probably the most entertaining, stressful event I've ever participated in...and I cannot wait to do it again next year. :D A huge thanks to my beta eec-midford (who saved my ass about a million times on this thing and made it readable for you guys ^^;), and to my artist MarshOfSleep for, well, being awesome and making a badass artwork/playlist combo. :D Alright, on to the story now!

Full Summary (since FFN doesn't like longer summaries ig): Melody is the only daughter of Maka and Soul Evans. She has struggled with feelings of bitterness and loss, and the unwanted pity of her peers, since Soul supposedly walked out when she was a child. But when she secretly witnesses her father's brief return eight years later, she learns that he may not have abandoned her at all-and that he may be in grave danger. Confused, intrigued, and sick of living with a "broken" family, Melody enlists the help of her partner and her mother's old friends to find out the truth, and bring her father home for good.

Prologue:

Melody woke around three in the morning to hear her mother in the kitchen. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and listened; was she up cleaning again? As she listened harder, however, she made out that her mother was talking to someone. She kept her voice down; Melody couldn't make out what she was saying, but she could tell her mom was angry.

Who could her mother possibly be arguing with at this time of night? Melody carefully lifted herself from the bed and made her way to the bedroom door. She cracked it just slightly, careful of the creaking hinges. Footsteps indicated the two adults approaching, and Melody carefully positioned herself by the door so that she couldn't be seen behind it.

"...just gonna leave again in the morning!" her mother hissed, close enough now that Melody didn't have to strain to hear her.

The other person, a male, pleaded, "Maka, please, will you just hear me out?"

"No, you hear me out this time! Why can't you stay?!"

"I just can't. You of all people should know that. You never questioned me about things like this before."

"And you only ever come around when Melody's asleep. Don't you think she deserves to know?"

"Maka, you already know I can't tell you these things, and I can't tell you for a reason. You should trust me."

"I do, but…"

"Well then why don't you act like it? You are being really stubborn right now."

An anxious knot made its way into Melody's stomach. Maka's frustration and anxiety was reflected in her daughter; aside from the normal anxiety of hearing one's parent angry, the male speaker's voice was painfully familiar…but she found herself too groggy still to make a connection. Who was this guy to be scolding her mother, anyhow?

"If you wanted to leave, then you could have just said so!" Maka cried, no longer trying to keep her voice down. Melody jumped.

The man growled. "Maka Renée, don't you dare!"

Melody held back a gasp. The familiarity clicked in her tired brain, but she almost didn't want to believe it. The man had used her mother's middle name. Only one man ever did that—even Spirit never called her that…that voice was Soul.

That was her father out there.

"Dare what?" Maka challenged. "Point out that you're never home? That you just up and left, cryptic note on the door, no explanation, no calls, nothing?!"

"Maka, I know you were scared, and I'm sorry-"

"This isn't just about me, Soul! You think I was scared? What about your daughter? Melody was seven! You tell me how I'm supposed to explain to your seven-year-old daughter, who you know adores you, that daddy might not ever come home, and I don't know why!"

Melody felt her chest tighten as the memories flooded back. Memories of confusion and tears and resentment that she had never wanted to go back to. And yet…she felt it was too late to lay back down and try to shut out her parents now.

"Maka…" The tightness in Soul's throat was audible. "I didn't. Want. To leave. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

There was a brief, tense silence.

"Then why did you?" she demanded—as demanding as she could sound while fighting back tears. "For eight years I've sat around, raised your daughter, cleaned the house, waiting for you to come back, or even just call."

"I-"

"For eight years I've waited for you to come home and been overjoyed when you finally did."

"Ma-"

"I would run up and hug you and cry on your shoulder about how much I missed you, even though I knew you were only gonna be here for one night."

"Sweetheart-"

"But not this time, Soul. I want answers."

"Baby, I-"

"Soul, don't pull that sweet talk thing with me! Endearing names and pretty words aren't gonna help this time. Where were you?!"

"I told you," he responded, trying to keep his voice even, "I've been around the country."

"Why?"

Silence again. Then, a deep breath from Soul.

"Maka...please, don't freak out and please trust me here...but I'm being followed. By someone who would hurt you and Melody to get to me. That's why I can't come home very often, and even when I do, it's risky. But that's all I can tell you without putting you in too much danger."

"Nothing's come at us for the past eight years. Why should we worry now?"

"Because I've been very careful thus far. I'm being careful not to do anything that would attract too much attention to me or, God forbid, my family."

"You couldn't even pick up the phone and call me to let me know you were alive?"

"Call tracing."

Maka softened her voice. "Soul... who is chasing you? I know you; you've never been scared of anything. We've gone up against and defeated things that most people never see in their worst nightmares. What could possibly scare you so badly?"

Again, Melody's native curiosity gripped her, and she carefully cracked the door enough to see her parents, staring at each other intensely. She stared wonderingly at her father, with the realization that she hadn't seen him since she was little. She supposed, after years of confusion and resentment, she'd somewhat gotten used to his absence without realizing it.

She watched as her ash-blonde mother, with her back to the door, sympathetically stroked his cheek. Soul's wild, semi-long hair was stark white, as was his daughter's messy ponytail. He stared at Maka with tired eyes the same ruby red as Melody's. He was taller than Maka—not much, probably about five-eleven to her five-seven. Reflecting on herself, a pale, thin albino girl that was already just about her mother's height, she finally understood the "you are so much like your father" that her mom would mutter when she thought her daughter couldn't hear.

When she looked back up at her parents, Soul wasn't looking at her mother anymore; she almost hoped she was mistaken, but it looked like he was staring directly at her. Startled, she hid behind the door again and held her breath.

"Losing my family," her father said finally. "That's what's scaring me, Maka."

"You're never gonna lose us, Soul," Maka answered. "We'll always be here." She choked on the next phrase: "Just waiting for you to come home…"

She didn't quite finish before she melted into sobs. The sounds tore at Melody's heart. Her mother never cried around her. She had always been very tentative on the subject of her husband, but she had never cried. Not even when Melody was seven years old, maybe a few weeks after Soul left, and asked her mom when Daddy was coming home.

Melody listened to her parents' footsteps retreat, her mother sobbing and her father gently shushing her. Shocked and disillusioned, she shut her bedroom door and dragged herself back to her bed. She fell like a deadweight onto the mattress, face-first into her multitude of pillows. Her brain hadn't quite caught up with the events of the last ten minutes, and she was almost tempted to believe that she was stuck in a vivid dream.

She rolled over, put her head in her hands, and let a single sob escape her. The confusion and the realization that she had just seen the father she had never really known was too much to bear. But before she could break down completely, she stopped herself. She hated the feeling of crying, the helplessness of it. So she took a few deep breaths, pulled her blanket over herself, and went back to sleep.