Unwanted Author Commentary: SoMa, you may have guessed. I try and keep characters, well, in character, but that is surprisingly difficult for me. I only started writing fanfiction recently so cut me a little bit of slack if I mess someone up. But, I absolutely love writing these characters and playing off their dynamic and inner monologues. I may focus on one or the other for certain bits, but I'll try and give them roughly equal screentime. Gah. This isn't a movie. Whatever! Once we get into more... interesting relationship bits I'll start a Live Journal or something. Also, advance apologies for Soul being inappropriate.

I don't own Soul Eater, that bit's obvious. Maybe if I did I could write it better. Enjoy.


Soul was having a bad day. And by bad day, he didn't have anything trivial like a hangover, public nudity charges, or a crazy person holding a gun to his head. No, those would be normal. Those he could handle. This was far worse. Infinitely so. First off, he was in the hospital. Which, along with the rest of the sane world, made him extremely uncomfortable. Second, he was in the hospital because Maka was in surgery for a gunshot. And third? For whatever reason he was feeling every second of it. While she was asleep, he had insisted on being awake, in the hall outside.

Bad move. He feels, through the ridiculous haze of painkillers the nurses have put him on, somebody rooting around in his insides for a bullet. Of course, it isn't really him. It's Maka. Which is why it's extremely fucking uncool that he has to deal with it. He's bent over in the chair, holding his sides, confused over the whole thing and contemplating suicide when Stein walks up.

"On a scale of one to ten, how well are you feeling the current procedure." He asks without any further ado.

"I don't know. Eight. Maybe. How the hell would I have ANY reference for that?" Soul manages to growl out. He's already lost his patience somewhere around the last twenty minutes of torture and some crazy asshole mad scientist is the absolute last thing he needs to be dealing with. Why was Stein even here?

"Hmm. Very interesting. It appears you're in a surprisingly advanced stage of Constant Oscillatory Resonance Affliction. I had to investigate for myself when I heard your half of the medical report. No injuries of any sort but still in agonizing pain. The science behind this is simply fascinating..."

"You may need to dumb that down a little because I have no fucking clue what you just said."

"Ah yes. You are in some discomfort." Soul was about to put the good doctors balls in 'some discomfort' if he didn't spit out some kind of answer. "To cut to the chase, you two are resonating."

"Uh, what." Not Soul's wittiest reply ever but the response was a little odd, to say the least. Resonating? No they weren't. That was ridiculous. And would explain a lot... shit.

"You are currently experiencing a surgery that only your partner is undergoing and you didn't figure this out? You're in a decreased form of resonance. And no, it won't be going away, before you ask."

"All I know is I collapsed screaming when we were chasing after those cultists and Maka got shot. So, how. The fuck. Did this happen." Soul's thinking it through. It would make sense, but it just seems... he didn't know really. Impossible? Yeah. This coming from the guy who can change into a magic scythe. He was definitely losing it.

"To put it simply, it happened because you made Death Scythe. When your power sharply increased, so did your level of resonance, correct?"

"Mhmm. Ow! Damn." Soul grits his teeth as he feels something cold rooting around in his stomach. How many fragments can a bullet be in? This was ridiculous. And proving Stein's point. He couldn't decide which was more annoying.

"Well, in many cases, this is why Death Scythe's don't have a continual partner. This is actually a fairly common result."

"Then why didn't you say something before!" Soul practically roars. He only restrains himself to avoid disturbing the surgeons in the other room, or he would be providing them with a new patient.

"Given the recent incident with Asura, we needed you two as a team. It begins early or not at all, which is why most Death Scythes are separated from their partners once they attain that status. You, however, we needed in action."

"That was- gah! Two months ago that we beat Asura! It obviously happened sometime after because I wasn't feeling anything before!" He decides to accept the professors explanation, if only to have someone to yell at. And it isn't like this was someone sweet, like Marie. No, he could totally be pissed at Stein regret free.

"Actually, the early stages are relatively mild. It either takes a long period of time or a particularly traumatic incident to get it to noticeable levels." Just then Soul collapses forward, the cold tendrils leaving his stomach. The feeling of the stitching is almost a relief. Almost.

"So. What can we do about it." He demands. When. Was this going. To be over. And having to deal with Stein was double torture. Talking was just making him more and more pissed and he was going to strangle the man if he was here a minute longer...

"Nothing, as I may have already said." The professor stands and starts to leave. Soul doesn't watch him go, doesn't really care. He has a very one track mind, and right now, all he was worried about was Maka. Sure, they had something new to deal with. It could wait. They'd deal with it and everything would turn out all right. She just needed to pull through this, and then she would have an explanation for him. She knew everything after all. After a few more minutes of white hot needles, he feels the muggy exhaustion in his head start to recede. A nurse steps out, and Soul winces at the blood on her hands. Not good. Definitely not good.

"Mr. Evans? Ms. Albarn is awake and ready to see you." Soul almost runs in as soon as the doctors file out, the nurse taking up a position by the door, tactfully closing it as he enters. Maka is propped up on the bed, looking absolutely awful. Her skin, already that of a shut in nerdy white girl, is paler than usual, and her ash blonde hair seems gray and dull. The only real color in her face are her emerald green eyes, but now they have dark, bruised circles under them. It's really the only way he can recognize this pitiful creature as his Meister. Soul feels a flood of relief as she smiles weakly, and given Stein's news he isn't really sure who it's coming from. He doesn't particularly care. At least somebody was happy.

"Hey, Soul." She mumbles as he pulls up a chair.

"Hey. Got some news for you, when you're ready." There's a flicker of unease, but she nods almost immediately. Soul starts talking, filling her in on the last day. "So you already know about getting shot."

"I may have figured something like that out, yes." Well, at least she can joke about it. If that could even be called a joke...

"Well, that did something to me to. I changed back out, felt like I was on fire. They rushed us both over here and checked us out. You had a fragmented bullet in your gut. I was completely fine. So you go into the operating room and I'm out here when Stein walks up. He claims we're stuck on some kind of permanent resonance, as a result of me becoming a Death Scythe. So I could feel you getting shot, even though normally we snap out of resonance when something like that happens." He waits for her reaction.

"So... when I was in surgery..." She mutters. Worried about him. Of course. Soul winces involuntarily at the mention of surgery, and she catches it, giving him a worried look. He waves it away. She really should not be worrying about him.

"Eh. Feeling a lot better. Really. I was fine. You're the one who got shot." She knows he's just trying to reassure her, but still seems satisfied. Why the hell was he reassuring her that he was ok? He needed to be comforting her, dammit. Soul feels a sudden pang of hunger, but he knows it isn't from him. He managed to choke down some nasty hospital food an hour ago. Worry about her first. "You hungry?" He asks. She looks vaguely hopeful and vaguely ill.

"Uh... kinda. Not right now though. I just had somebody poking around near my stomach." She leans back into the foam mattress with a sigh. "I feel awful." But Soul is still feeling relief from her, and a warm good cheer that seems to underlie all the pain she's going through.

"You look it." He says, privately wondering whether to ask about it, and decides against it. No need to pry. Almost shyly, one of the girls hands slip out of the blanket. Their little ritual. Soul holds it firmly in both of his, dwarfing her dainty hand in his two. She's so warm and Soul feels a rush of whatever she has going on, happy and caring and so damn optimistic. Screw it. Question time. Might as well take advantage of this damn resonance.

"Alright, what are you so cheerful about." He says, half amused, expecting some dorky answer. Surprisingly, she turns pink, well, as pink as she could get with the amount of blood she's lost.

"Just... glad you're here is all." She manages. "I was really worried when I got shot and stuff and I'm just happy you're ok." But it's more than that, Soul knows it is, it's like she's on top of the fucking world right now. Granted, he's pretty happy himself. She's alright. But still, it didn't seem like her. The only time she ever seemed excited about anything was before a test or a fight. In fact, if he didn't have this new bond with her, he wouldn't know she was anything more than completely exhausted. So he shakes his head and gives her a hard stare.

"No, it's definitely something else." He's curious now, insatiably so. What was her deal? And why did he want to know so damn badly? Didn't they have other things to worry about, like, the fact she got fucking shot? Maka looks away, and almost pulls the hand out of his grasp. He's screwed up he's screwed up...

"Look, I wasn't planning to ask you yet!" She says angrily. The girl turns to give him an accusatory look. "And reading my emotions is cheating!" Soul snorts at that. Why was he being obnoxious... no no no be nice. Comforting. That shit.

"If I didn't cheat I'd be so far behind you I'd never catch up. Besides, it isn't like I can turn it off." Maka sighs. She knows he's right but she doesn't want to admit it.

"Fine. If you're so determined." She looks down, still blushing furiously. "Um..."

"Well, c'mon." Augh! He should be backpedaling, not demanding an answer!

"Don't rush me, ok!" Maka stares down some more at the plain white blanket across her lap. What was it, some masterpiece painting? Why wouldn't she just look up and give him an answer? And, more importantly, why was he pushing the gunshot victim to answer some stupid question? "Ok. Here goes." The girl takes a deep breath. "I really like you Soul. That's what I wanted to say. That's why I feel so cheerful. Are you happy now?" She says in a rush. Finally she looks up, still not managing to meet his eyes. She keeps talking while Soul is, he doesn't know, dumbstruck. Why isn't his mouth working? "And it's been a long time but I never wanted to ask. I always had some reason not to. I mean, everyone thinks you're so cool. Half the girls I know have a crush on you and I just never thought I was your type. You're an amazing musician, you ride a motorcycle, all that stuff. I study a lot. And have teddy bears in my room. Just... I never thought you'd be interested." She's still staring somewhere around his chest, not meeting his eyes. Soul's a whirlwind of emotions, hers and his mixing together. Hope, confusion, anticipation, and anxious fear all swirling together. What should he say? How could he answer that? And, above all else, what?

"What?" His mouth says, echoing his confused brain. Another dumb response. He was really on a roll today. Maka looks down.

"Forget it."

"But-" No no. This is important. He needs to say... something.

"I said forget it!" She yells at him. Soul waits a minute, then gently starts to talk again.

"I was just really surprised is all. I mean, out of everything you could want to say that was the absolute last thing I would ever expect." He pauses, searching for what to tell her. He knows he has her attention, but he doesn't know where he's even going with this. "But don't sell yourself short. You're one of the best people I know. Smart, brave, always looking out for your friends even though your social skills are ah, sorely lacking to say the least." She glares but keeps listening, hoping so much it's painful. The hormonal maelstrom in Soul's head is slowly calming, resolving. "Half the time I wish I was someone like you. I mean, most of the time I feel like an idiot whenever you come up with some crazy plan or fact or-" He stops, realizing what he just said. "Ok, enough embarrassing myself." He says with an abashed grin. "What I'm trying to say is, if you really mean that, I don't see why the hell I would say no." There's a moment of stunned shock. Then two, then three. Soul realizes he's still holding her hand when it starts to shake, along with the rest of her. She's crying, and he has to fight back her tears himself, too mixed up in her head to do anything. Little dull noises come from the crisp cotton blanket where the salty drops hit, and awkwardly Soul attempts to hold her. Of course, this twinges the recent surgery and they both wince in pain, but she doesn't care, leaning into him and clinging fiercely. "Hey. Shh, shh shh." He feels awkward, what should he do? Soul decides on rubbing her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. After a moment she pulls away a bit, keeping his arm around her but leaning back and calming down. Some girls can cry and look adorable, but Maka isn't one of them, and her face manages to look even worse than before, which is definitely an accomplishment.

"Sorry." She says with a half smile. "Don't know what got into me." Soul shrugs.

"Nah. It's fine." He's made her happy. Damn. Was she ever happy. They both sit there, grinning like total idiots. For the first time Soul has no problems with this new resonance. Feeling her absolute, pure joy is such a rush as it mixes with his own, bouncing back and forth between them. They're on top of the fucking world. Here, in a hospital, ten minutes after his Meister was in surgery, Soul's happier than he's ever been in his life.


Unwanted Author Commentary: Whoooooa I ended that dorky. Ok. Sorry. But it was the only way I could think of to do it, since I have this problem with dragging on romantic tension for dozens of pages and then have a really awkward, stupid confession. I hope this flowed a little better. But! We have a romance! And it only took like... seven pages? Dunno. Something. New record!