This is something that's been on my mind for a while now. Enjoy, and please don't forget to leave constructive criticism.
Trigger warning: Self-harm, mentions of suicide, depression
Franken Stein wasn't accustomed to getting visits, especially at three in the morning.
It was Maka, of all people. Stein gazed at her with curiosity. She blushed deeply, avoiding his stare and opting to look at the stitches on the floor instead.
"I - I'm sorry to bother you so late..."
There was something off in her voice, a minute trembling he'd never heard before. Stein mentally put on his kid gloves with the realization - something was definitely up.
"It's perfectly fine, I was awake. What brings you here?"
Now that he heard the trembling in her voice, he saw the shaking in her body as well as her soul wavelength.
"Uh, I think I need stitches."
Maka held out a wrist to show him a razor-thin cut, bleeding profusely. Along the length of both arms were white scars, some still healing, others long gone.
He blinked, and in Maka he saw himself, years before - before he had met Spirit, before the DWMA became his home. A little kid experimenting on himself to distract from the horrors of the world. If she was anything like he was, she needed help. Stein wasn't exactly sure if he was the one who could offer it, but he could try.
Wordlessly, Stein beckoned for her to follow him down into the laboratory. He gestured for her to sit on the steel table in the center of the dimly lit room while he went to get some bandages, a needle, and some thread. All the while, Maka stared at the ground, shaking like a leaf. Her soul wavelength was a sickly color, shimmering in and out of darkness.
Stein kept his back to Maka, giving her the mercy of privacy when he said, "If I may ask - why?"
He pretended to rummage around for a bit longer to give her enough time to compose herself. Plopping down in a chair with a tray of first aid supplies, Stein wheeled back to the table.
Her eyes still traced the stitches in the floor, refusing to meet his level gaze. "I'm not good enough. I don't deserve any of this... I deserve pain."
Stein gently took her arm, wiping the cut with some peroxide. She didn't even flinch, but there were tears flowing down her face. From the emotional or physical pain, though, he wasn't exactly sure.
"What makes you think that? I'm starting the stitching."
It was a while before she could figure out an answer.
"I hold Soul back. He needs somebody brave, somebody strong. He only tolerates me."
"Hmmm... I don't think that's true." Stein cut the last of the thread and looked up at Maka. She barely met his gaze for a second. He sighed.
"But, judging from these scars, whatever I tell you won't make a difference. Why don't you ask Soul?"
She winced. "I'm a coward. He'll hate me once he sees these..."
Stein wrapped a bandage around her wrist and secured it in place. "You won't know for sure until you ask."
Among other people, Lord Death would need to know about this. Stein was afraid of scaring Maka away, but it was essential to keep her in the loop.
"Lord Death needs to know."
Maka jumped up at the idea, but he held out an arm. "Running away from this will only make it worse. If you don't go to him yourself, it's my duty to file a report."
The girl slumped back down onto the table. "I - I don't know if I can."
She was afraid of disappointing him. Not only him, but everybody else she knew. Maka couldn't take the thought that they would see her as anything other than perfect...
Getting up, Stein set the tray in the sink. He turned back to Maka and said, "You have a few options. Don't tell anybody, and let this come out on its own, maybe when somebody else sees the scars. Lord Death will watch you closely, but he can't save you. If it goes on like this, it will consume you. Or you can take this into your own hands, and ask for help. In which situation would Soul forgive you?"
She knew the answer. Her soul wavelength told him that much.
Maka stood up. She was still shaking, but met his gaze evenly. "I'll do it."
She went to Lord Death first. Stein was surprised when Maka asked him to come with her, but he probably would've tailed her anyway. Maybe that was what she figured, too.
The walk up to Lord Death's room was silent. Maka's soul wavelength was still shimmering, but it had lost much of the weird hue and was more of a normal color. Likewise, Maka was still trembling, but there was steel in her eyes he rarely witnessed.
He smoked a cigarette as they walked in the moonlight, and alternated between keeping tabs on Maka and puffing out smoke.
They got to Lord Death's room in good time. Stein trailed behind Maka, putting out the stump of the cigarette. She was almost strong enough to do this on her own.
The Reaper greeted them with the usual candor, waving and saying, "You two are up late! Why're you here at such an hour?"
Maka froze. Stein offered, hands shoved inside his patchwork pockets, "Maka has something serious to tell you."
The happiness disappeared from Lord Death's voice in an instant. "What's wrong?"
She held out her shaking arms, exposing the scars to the Reaper.
In an instant, three chairs and a table appeared. Lord Death sat at one, and said, "Maka, Stein, please sit down."
They did so.
"Maka, how long has this been going on?"
She averted her gaze, blood rising to her cheeks. "A... few months."
"What do you need me to do for you?"
Tears welled up in her eyes at the question. Her soul wavelength was settling down. She hadn't thought the Lord of Death would have such a capacity for empathy, had never considered that others could forgive her for not being perfect.
"I - I need to tell Soul. I'm just - I'm afraid of what he'll do..."
"Do you want me to call him down here? It is four in the morning, but I think he'll forgive me for waking him up."
Maka nodded, balling her hands into fists in her lap. The Reaper waved them goodbye and disappeared.
Stein took that as his cue to leave. He stood up and dug around in his pocket for another cigarette. He was just about to leave when Maka said, "Can you stay?"
Why would she want him to stay? He had, on numerous occasions, threatened to dissect her. He had scared the students more times than he could count with the madness that still, even after all this time, threatened to destroy him. How was Maka able to look past all of that and show up on his doorstep alone?
Did she think she saw some sort of goodness in him?
Stein's mistake was turning back to look at Maka. The tears had dried by now, but her eyes were still glassy, her soul wavelength still slightly shaking.
He sat back down.
"Thank you." Maka's voice was no more audible than a whisper, but he heard it all the same.
Lord Death appeared with Soul, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes and murmuring about something not being cool. They both took their seats at the chairs that appeared for them.
The Reaper took a moment before addressing them. "Maka, you had something you wanted to say to Soul?"
She gulped. "Yeah, uh, Soul - I - I, uh..." She blushed. "I keep feeling like I'm holding you back and that you only tolerate me. I - I don't think I deserve this, and so, uh - " She held out her wrists as a testament to the results.
Soul blanched, but it wasn't long until he did exactly what Stein was sure he would do - slap Maka hard.
She had been expecting some blows, but it stung all the same. Hanging her head, more tears dripped from her cheeks. Maka heaved with sobs, saying, "I - I'm sorry..."
Soul struck his hands on the table, causing cracks to spiderweb out from his palms. "That's not cool at all! You - You're..." Tears welled up in his eyes, and his soul wavelength calmed down. "You don't hold me back. You're my friend, Maka. I wouldn't trade you for anybody."
She lifted her head and looked at Soul. "You're sure?"
He sat back down, scratching the back of his head. "Of course, dummy. Why'd you think anything else?"
Maka shrugged. The tiniest of smiles appeared on her face.
Stein was really itching for that cigarette. He was surprised that Soul had taken the information so well, but Lord Death could take it from here. The recovery process wasn't exactly Stein's strong suit.
The cheer came back into the Reaper's voice. "Well, that settles that! Maka, come see me in the morning. We can work out some other details then. But for now, you two should get some sleep."
Stein assumed that by 'you two' he had meant the kids; the Reaper wanted to discuss something with him. Maka offered them a small wave as she left, and put her head next to Soul's, discussing something. They held hands tightly.
As soon as they were gone, all pretenses of happiness disappeared from the Reaper's voice. "Stein, how long have you known about this?"
"She came to me tonight because she cut too deep. I'm assuming the bleeding scared her."
The Reaper remained silent for a while. Finally, he said, "She's on the path to getting better, but it's just the beginning. I'll talk to Mira and see what else we can do for her. In the meantime, could you keep an eye on her?"
Stein nodded. He saw her every day during class, anyway.
"Thank you."
He shrugged. "It's no problem."
Stein got up to leave. As he was almost by the door, Lord Death called, "Stein, what are your motivations for helping Maka?"
He froze. They both knew exactly why he was helping her, why he stayed when she begged him to. The Reaper just wanted it straight from the source.
Stein chose his words carefully. "Nobody deserves the type of pain I felt – still feel. I know it's not the same situation –" She didn't have madness gnawing on her bones – "but she has the luxury of a solution. She deserves that, at least."
For once, the Reaper didn't reply. Stein left, digging out the cigarette from his pocket. As soon as he was outside, he lit it, blowing smoke to the stars.
He didn't bother worrying about Maka and Soul – they'd be just fine.