Author's note: Well, my brain did it again. This is the sequel to Dissecting Resonance and Accepting Resonance. I hadn't planned to make it a pair, let alone a trilogy, but this story had to be told or it was going to drive me mad. It's a little darker than the others, but that's just how it had to be. I decided not to break it into chapters, mainly because I am exhausted and desperately need to get some sleep. So, consider this an uber-long one shot.
The party celebrating the defeat of the kishin was in full swing by the time Stein showed up. Students, teachers, citizens of Death City – Kid had gone all out to make sure everyone would feel welcome. The teacher surveyed the room, the crowd, with a smirk.
"Stein!" He turned to see Spirit meandering towards him, carefully navigating the dance floor with two cups of something that, upon sipping, turned out to be a sparkling punch of some sort. "I didn't think you were going to show up!"
"I lost a bet with Marie." The redhead nodded sagely.
"I figured it was something like that. Well, whatever your reason, everyone will be thrilled to see you actually showing your face outside that lab of yours." Spirit drained his glass in a few gulps. "Speaking of Marie, where'd she get to? She was right here a few minutes ago..." The easily distracted Death Scythe wandered off, still talking to himself, and the professor shook his head indulgently. The punch really was good, though he shouldn't have been surprised. A party like this, thrown by Lord Death's son...of course the refreshments would be top-notch. He slowly made his way along the wall, occasionally nodding or exchanging a few words with acquaintances and colleagues, but mostly slipping through the shadows, content to observe the festivities. He'd made his way halfway around the perimeter when he was stopped by a hand on his arm. Looking down into golden eyes, he gave a genuine smile to his host.
"Great gathering," he said with sincerity.
"Glad you could make it. We were wondering if we'd have to send someone to drag you here. I know the usual party concept isn't really your thing." Stein chuckled along with Kid, and the reaper continued.
"Well, I've got to go play my part, but make sure you hit the buffet table. I found someone new to provide the food and it is simply amazing."
"I'll be sure to do that." He watched as the young man walked away, pausing to make sure he'd greeted everyone. Stein looked down to find that he'd emptied his glass without realizing it, and since he'd skipped lunch that day – being totally absorbed in a new experiment – the idea of finding the much-lauded buffet table was sounding better and better. It wasn't hard to find, and in short order he had to concur with Kid's assessment of the food – it was spectacular.
"Professor Stein!" He turned to see Black Star not three feet away, the blue-haired meister calling his greeting out around a mouthful of food.
"Hello Black Star," he said cordially.
"Good food, huh?" the outspoken fighter said loudly. "Man, she can be a pain sometimes, but that girl can sure cook!" Stein nodded his agreement.
"Kid mentioned he'd found a new caterer. I have to say I'm impressed by the quality." He helped himself to some more snacks and a refill on his punch.
"Caterer? Ha! This is all Maka's doing." Stein paused, a bite-sized hors d'oeuvres halfway to his mouth.
"Maka?" The ninja nodded, his pride in his friend's work obvious.
"It was the only way Kid would let her skip out on the bulk of the party. She agreed to whip up snacks and drinks for everyone if she could be excused from the noise and bustle." The professor didn't quite know what to say, so he finished munching on the delicious delicacies.
"Hello, Professor Stein," a quiet voice said from behind him. He turned to find Crona standing there, the boy's usual shy smile in place. "It's nice to see you again."
"And you as well. How's Ragnarok?" The Demon Swordsman had been hit hard in the battle against the kishin and Ragnarok had come to the fore, hardening Crona's blood and taking the blows for him. As strong as the weapon was, though, the kishin had been stronger, and there had been some doubt about how well the recovery of the odd duo would go.
"He's okay, though I don't think he's going to come out tonight. It's been...a lot to deal with. For all of us." Stein nodded his understanding. "Well, Professor, have fun. Oh, and Soul wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute. He's somewhere over by the musicians."
"Thank you, I'll find him. Have a good evening as well." The mesiter watched smiling as the quiet boy walked away. He thought over the little group he'd become fond of, the commonage that no one had ever expected. These kids had more heart and determination than many adults he had met, and it was mostly thanks to them that there was even reason to have this party. He was proud of them all, and pleased to see that their success didn't change who they were. Walking once more, he slowly made his way to the opposite corner of the room. A pair of crimson eyes met his own with a smirk and a nod.
"So you are here. Kid said he'd seen you."
"Soul," the meister replied. "Crona said you wanted to talk to me?"
"Let's head to the game room – it's too noisy in here." Following the younger man's lead, he walked down a hallway and into a wood-paneled room that sported a dartboard, a foosball table, and an electronic entertainment setup that was quite frankly impressive. Soul, turning to fix the older man with a glare, wasted no words.
"Something happened out there, on that battlefield. What was it?" Stein looked at the weapon, slightly confused.
"A lot of things. What are you asking about?" The young Death Scythe sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"When the kishin went down, I was with Lord Death. Black Star, Tsubaki, and Crona were together off to the side. Kid and the girls were across from them. Maka was directly in front of Asura. And you and Spirit were there. I saw you two resonate, I saw you join in with Maka and our group, and then it was all chaos until that kishin bastard finally died." Stein nodded, not disagreeing with anything his companion had said. "What I want to know is what happened when Asura went down. It was so confusing, I missed a lot, I know, but something..." Soul sighed. "Maka has barely spoken since then. Not to me, not to any of us. She's happy, and she seems normal, but there's some – I dunno, wall. Like she's blocked us out of some corner of herself where we were always allowed to go before. I know it had something to do with the resonance state. I saw the look on her face when we all joined. I felt her, Stein. I felt something change in her. And now she's Maka, but she's not Maka, and I'm scared to death that...I don't want..." To Stein's shock the boy's eyes began to glimmer, but he caught himself and continued.
"I want my meister back. The woman I love. And you're the only person I can think of that's been as close to her as I have, that knows her as well as I do. I thought maybe you'd talk to her, see if she'll tell you anything, because she's sure not telling me."
"If she's not talking, do we really have the right to ask her to? There's obviously some reason she's keeping her silence." Though his words were rational, his mind was anything but.
"I don't know. I don't know anything. I just want Maka back again." He looked up at the taller man, the determination and fire in his crimson gaze tempered by a desperate fear. "She and the girls will be down in a little while. Will you see if she'll tell you what's wrong?" Stein nodded slowly.
"I make no promises, though. I refuse to pry, so if she doesn't want to tell me, I won't make her."
"All I ask is that you try." He held out his hand to the older man, who took it without hesitation and shook it firmly. "Thank you, Professor."
"Not at all," Stein murmured as they walked back out of the game room. They continued a casual conversation as they reentered the room, and in short order were joined by the other three young meisters. Standing on the opposite side of the room from the musicians, the five men stood and talked about nothing and everything. After a few moments the older man voiced the question that he'd been wondering.
"So, I see all of you here, but where are the rest of your family?"
"They're – to quote Liz - "making themselves gorgeous"," Kid said with a smile. Crona giggled.
"I don't know why they bother. With a big star like me here, no one will even be looking at them." The group laughed at Black Star's ego, and Soul chimed in with his two cents.
"I have to agree though – why do girls take so damn long to get ready for anything? It's not like the world will end if they don't have their hair curled just right." Stein acknowledged a passing teacher with a wave as he spoke.
"It has been my experience that if you give your lady the space and time she feels she needs to prepare herself as she sees fit, it benefits more than just her." A low whistle from the reaper punctuated that statement.
"When you're right, Stein, you're so very right," he murmured, and the other four turned in tandem to see what it was Kid was staring at so blatantly. The sight on the staircase stopped all conversation in its tracks.
Liz and Patty were leading the foursome, walking slightly sideways as they spoke with the two behind them. Both girls wore form-fitting dresses with Oriental-style patterning, but instead of matching colors like they did for their usual outfits, they coordinated instead. Patty's was the same shade of blue as her eyes, with small scarlet phoenix and dragon designs embroidered in between vines that sported tiny golden leaves. Her sister's dress had similar embroidery but the colors were reversed, cerulean pictures on a ruby background. Both girls had worn their hair up, decorating it with small stones that matched their dresses, and platform sandals adorned their feet. Tsubaki was resplendent in a deep purple off-the-shoulder gown with silver trim, a simple pendant of deep amethyst on a rope chain accentuating the sweetheart neckline of the dress. Since her hemline reached her ankles, the only part of her shoes that were visible were the occasional flashes of silver as the fabric swirled with her steps. She'd tamed her hair into a braid that was draped artfully over her shoulder, the length slipping over the curve of her breast as she breathed. However, Stein didn't notice any of this until much later in the evening. He could see nothing but Maka.
At first glance the blond meister's dress was a simple sheath in a pale green color, but as she walked down the staircase it was shown to be anything but. Strapless, it started as a silvery-green at the top, but the lower he looked the more it faded to a deep forest green, shimmering in the low lights. It hugged her willowy form perfectly, showing the strength and grace with which she moved, clinging just enough to hint but never to flaunt. At least, that's what he thought until she started walking forward and he saw the thigh-high slit that bared her long legs with every teasing step. As if the glimpse of the smooth skin he was so enamored with wasn't enough, he noticed something that made his heart stop painfully. She was wearing a very familiar pair of high heeled shoes, their laces wrapping around her calves like sinful little serpents. To keep himself from doing something absolutely foolish and reckless – namely, picking her up and stretching her out on the nearest flat surface to unwrap her like a present, onlookers be damned – he forced his eyes upwards again. She was luminous in her beauty. Her hair had been swirled into a twist, leaving select few strands down to highlight the delicate arch of her neck, the graceful slope of her shoulders. He was staring, he knew he was staring, but it wasn't until her eyes locked with his and she smiled that he was able to free himself from her spell. The low chuckles behind him made him turn around, and the faces of the three male commonage members were smug as well as amused.
"I told you he wasn't listening," Soul said with a smirk. Stein forced himself back to the conversation.
"I apologize – my thoughts were elsewhere. Did I miss something?"
"Yeah, we could tell where your thoughts were, Professor," Black Star grinned. "And no, nothing important. We were just wondering if you'd be interested in dancing with Maka this evening." The professor took a deep breath.
"I'm not so certain that would be wise," he murmured. "The general populous knows we are friends, but anything else, especially in a setting such as this, could be misconstrued." He looked at Soul. "Don't worry, I still plan on trying to speak with her. But right now, I think the four of you should go and rescue your lovely partners from the crowd of jackals that is beginning to notice how beautiful they look." He turned on his heel and walked into the crowd, needing to clear his mind and reinforce his determination to behave properly . A short while later found him back near the buffet table, sampling some sort of raspberry cream filled pastry and nursing another glass of punch. From his vantage point he could see her face as she spoke with someone, but he was grateful that the constantly shifting numbers hid the rest of her from him. As long as she didn't look over at him, he felt he would be fine. Oblivious to anything but Maka, he never noticed his friend approaching, but Spirit noticed him...and he noticed what had stolen the meister's attention.
"You should ask her to dance." Spirit's voice was even, steady; he could have been discussing the weather. Stein spun to the side to see the weapon leaning casually against the wall a foot and a half away. He drew in a sharp breath. Surely the Scythe didn't mean...
"Come on, Franken," the other man said with a bit of a wry grin that didn't quite meet his eyes. "Did you forget I was your partner for that battle? When we joined my daughter's resonance group? You'll never be able to bullshit me. I felt it, Stein. I felt her inside your soul, and vice versa."
"I...Spirit, I..." For the first time he felt himself completely at a loss, and wondered idly how long it would take for his overly protective friend to beat the everloving shit out of him, knowing he'd not lift a finger to stop him. To his surprise the other man just sighed, watching the graceful blond standing a few yards away.
"She's the only thing in my life that gives it meaning anymore, Franken. She's my baby girl. But she isn't a baby anymore, and she hasn't been a girl in a long time. I'll admit," he said with a sigh, "the whole 'soul commonage' thing threw me for a loop. But it wasn't because I didn't trust her, but that I hated the fact that somewhere along the way she became an adult...and I missed it, somehow.
"I always thought I'd watch her grow up, get married. Have kids of her own – and doubtless do a better job with them than her old man has with her. This isn't the life I envisioned for her. But it makes her happy, and even I can admit that a happy Maka is a far better thing to deal with than one who is not." The other man rubbed the back of his neck, a chuckle on his lips, and Stein felt like he'd entered some alternate dimension where Spirit was mature and the world was full of music. When Spirit looked back up, the reluctant acceptance in his expression was palpable.
"I don't know what's really between you two, and I don't want to. Allow me my illusions, if you are truly my friend. But I know that there is a connection there, and I can see that my not-so-little girl needs someone right now. And since she's surrounded by her friends and still seems completely alone, I'm betting that someone is you." He paused. "But be sure if you hurt her, they will never find your corpse." A final glare packed all of his protective love into one look and then Spirit was walking away, leaving a slightly flabbergasted Professor behind to figure out what had just happened. He resigned himself to the inevitable, and with a deep breath he steeled himself and began to weave across the dance floor to the lonely girl in the midst of everyone.
Maka tried to smile, she really did. And she succeeded, even if it never quite made the trip up to her eyes. She knew her family was worried. She could feel it in every embrace, hear it in every word. And she felt like the worst kind of friend for letting them worry, but she just...couldn't tell them. Not now. Not when the whole world was celebrating, not when they'd scored such a large success for humanity. Not when she was still hurting so badly. She kept everything inside and tried to be who they needed her to be, knowing she was failing but trying anyway because to not try would be to give up, and Maka was never able to do that. So she let her friends dress her, primp her, pretended to enjoy the 'girl's time' before the party. The only argument that broke out was over her footwear, but they relented when she told them in no uncertain terms that she was going to wear her sandals. They were a dark enough color to match the lowest part of her dress, she claimed, and they were fantastically comfortable. Eventually she won the fight, whether because they agreed or because they gave up she wasn't sure. No one stopped to wonder why she was defending a pair of footwear as though it was her own child – or if they did, they kept it quiet. She allowed herself to be led out of the bedroom and down the staircase, not wanting to have anything to do with the large group of people but knowing to refuse openly would only make them more concerned. She was halfway down the staircase when her soul perception automatically found the one person she felt she might be able to tolerate – the one person she never thought would show up tonight. As she looked up at him, she couldn't help the smile that spread over her face. He looked completely flabbergasted, and she felt a brief surge of pride that she'd been able to wreck him so easily. But by the time she got to the foot of the stairs and was swept up into her beloved weapon's arms, Stein was nowhere in sight.
"You look gorgeous, Maka," Soul whispered into her ear. His arms wrapped around her and she had to suppress a small shudder – not because of anything she felt for him, but because of how much she hated herself in that moment. He wanted so bad for her to be herself, to be okay, for things to be fine...but she didn't know if she would ever be okay again. At least, not for a while. Still, she let him catch her up, lead her to the dance floor, and for a short time she tried to drown her internal chaos in the thumping beat. They were all there, everyone she loved. Her family. Her friends. So many people, celebrating the end of the threat that had plagued them all for so long. And she couldn't begrudge them their joy, even if she was too caught up in her own turmoil to share it. Her smile was obviously fake, her laugh even more so, but if they were content to let her lie to them in this way, she'd do her damnedest to be the best liar in history. Flashing her partner, her beloved Soul, a grin that she knew he knew wasn't quite right, she let him spin her into his arms and leaned against him, trusting to his strength to help her with the charade. It was going to be a long night.
He watched as she excused herself and began to wander toward the buffet table and he had to fight the sudden urge to duck behind the trays of food and hide from her vibrancy, from his own desires. He won, his stubborn nature not wanting to back down so easily, and he forced himself to relax and watch her approach. The sway of her hips, the occasional smile tossed to one person or another – and he saw her determination not to flinch at the pats on the back, at the hugs, saw in her eyes that she wanted to be anywhere but here – or perhaps anyone but herself. Finally, though, she was standing in front of him and they were staring at one another, wordless in their communication. He was completely floored by the depths of the pain she carried, and he wondered what on earth could be the cause. She, on the other hand, seemed to almost breathe a sigh of relief in his presence.
"Professor. I didn't expect to see you here."
"I didn't expect to attend, but Marie is a better poker player than I am." Perfectly proper conversation, if slightly generalized. No hint of his inner desires, of her anguish. They were outwardly as they always were outwardly – brilliant meisters who were also good friends. He knew they had to be above reproach, being as they were under the watchful eyes and wagging tongues of nearly the entirety of Death City. But he couldn't resist reaching out to brush a deliberately stray tendril of hair behind her shoulder, his finger ghosting over her bare neck. Expecting her to hide a flinch at the contact as he'd seen her do all night, he was surprised when she closed her eyes and seemed to almost smile. The band had switched tempo now, and he knew he'd never get another opening this perfect. From across the room two sets of eyes watched, red ones hopeful and trusting, green ones hopeful and reserved. He decided not to care. This was his Maka, and if he could help her, however he could help her, he'd do so, and the wishes of others could go hang.
"Would you care to dance?" He expected her to decline, expected to have to persuade her. To his shock she just nodded, as though not trusting her own words, and when he held out his hand she joined hers to it without hesitation.
Having Maka in his arms – however it happened – was always a heady sensation, but it was even more so now, now that they were surrounded by everyone they knew and many people they didn't. The feeling of the forbidden had never been so strong as it was the moment he guided her into a socially acceptable dance position. Her hand in his was steady, her other hand on his chest was warm and firm. But it was when he reached over to place his hand gently on her back that he nearly lost his composure. Without looking he couldn't be exactly sure, but judging by the feel of skin beneath his fingers he'd say her dress dipped far more in the back than the moderately demure front suggested. He was struck with the desire to turn her around, to see if what he was picturing was as lovely as he imagined. Instead he led her around the floor, their movements perfectly matched from their months of training and practicing together...as well as their other, less known activities. She was light on her feet and her implicit trust in him was apparent from the way she never once looked away from his eyes, believing that he wouldn't lead her into mishap. He decided he would try and find out what was bothering his vixen, now while they were inches from each other and she couldn't run without causing a scene.
"Maka," he whispered, keeping his voice low enough that only she could hear it. "What's wrong?" She blinked and he could see the pain she was hiding as she pushed it down, closed it away.
"Nothing," she murmured. He just looked at her, waiting patiently, and she eventually sighed. On their next turn she stepped a bit closer – not enough for anyone to question their behavior, but he still thrilled knowing she could draw comfort from being next to him. She closed her eyes briefly when she replied. "Nothing I want to talk about right now."
"Okay." She blinked, seeming stunned by his easy capitulation, and he guessed that her friends hadn't been so accommodating. "If you decide you want to talk to someone, you know where to find me." The gratefulness in her emerald eyes was all the reward he ever needed. The song ended and with a courtly bow – a throwback to a long-unused etiquette class – he led her back to her friends. With every step he could feel her getting more and more tense, closing off bit by bit. And when she finally went willingly into Soul's arms he knew he wasn't the only one who had witnessed the re-emergence of Society Maka. The white-haired weapon looked at him quizzically, but he shook his head slightly. Time enough to speak with the boy once the party was over. He stayed to make small talk for a while before excusing himself. It was far too loud for his tastes at the moment, and he thanked Kid for his kind offer of any room in the house to "go hide in." He never saw the look on Maka's face as he walked away.
"Maybe he can get through to her where we couldn't," Liz said thoughtfully. The group was watching from the sidelines as their friend walked hand-in-hand with their professor from the dessert table to the dance floor.
"I hope so. I just don't know what to do." Soul's voice was forlorn, hopeless, a sentiment they all shared. Nothing further was said as they kept their vigil, each of them praying that the unusual connection Maka and Stein shared would help the girl straighten out whatever she was going through. They watched as the two began to move, their flawless synchronicity apparent even at a distance, saw him ask her something, watched in disappointment as she declined. It seemed he said something else after that, something that made Maka relax a bit, and then nothing else was said as the two finished out the song. Seeing that he was leading her over to them, the group acted nonchalant. Soul knew he wasn't the only one that felt extremely sad as the young woman obviously closed up the closer she got. The small bit of relaxation she seemed to derive from being with Stein was a dream in the wind by the time she let her partner pull her into an embrace. Shortly after, the enigmatic professor headed out of the crowded room to seek peace and quiet, and the bunch of friends was suddenly ill at ease. Maka's discomfort had driven a wedge in between them all, and not a single one of them knew how to fix it.
The night went on as it would, music and food and congratulations and happiness, and Soul found himself hating every second of it. If Maka couldn't be happy, then why should everyone else be able to? He knew it was a selfish thought, that they'd all worked hard so that people could be happy again, content and safe, but to him it was an annoyance. Maka handled it all beautifully, though, and he knew only those that knew her best would suspect the pyrite in her smile – everyone else would only see the gold. Finally, as things were winding down, he found a moment to break away. She was dancing with Kid, her silvery green grace looking striking next to his lean black form, so he took the chance to find the man whose help they all needed so badly.
Stein was in the library, and Soul felt a twinge at the thought that Maka would be far happier in here as well. The man looked up as he walked in.
"Did she say anything?" he asked without preamble, slumping into a nearby chair.
"Only that she wasn't ready to talk about anything yet."
"Figures." The young man sighed, running a weary hand through his hair. "I hate this. I hate feeling helpless. Why won't she let me in?" Stein shrugged, closing the book he had been reading and sitting up a bit straighter.
"Perhaps she doesn't want anyone in until she learns herself what awaits. It's not always easy being trapped within your own mind." He snorted deprecatingly. "Take it from someone who knows."
Looking at the professor, Soul came to a decision.
"She won't talk to us, won't even acknowledge that there is anything wrong when we ask. She's tense and she's worried and sometimes I can feel her hurting so bad it makes me want to cry, but she still denies everything. Yet with you she relaxed, if only for a few minutes." He took a deep breath. "We've all talked about a vacation, just so that she could have some time for herself without us all around, but we're hesitant to leave her alone when she's in such a state. Would it...would you..?" He broke off, feeling like he was about to overstep the boundaries of friendship he'd formed with the man in front of him.
"Would I what?"
"Would you be willing to let Maka stay over at your lab for a few days? I think it might help if she were away from us, and out of the mansion. A change of scenery, of company, might be good for her."
"Have you asked her yet?"
"No. I just thought of it while you were dancing."
"I have no issue with it, but you might want to ask her opinion before you make plans on her behalf." The reproach in Stein's voice was very mild, but most certainly present and Soul had to fight the urge to duck his head and apologize.
"If you're sure it's no problem, I'll go see if I can talk to her now. I'll do anything it takes – I just want Maka happy again."
"You're not alone in that."
"I know. Let me go talk to her." He stood and rolled his head, stretching out muscles that seemed to carry the tension of the world. Heading back to the main room he found it wasn't hard to locate his meister. Just follow the feel of her heart breaking, he thought ruefully. Once he reached her side he motioned to the others and turned to her.
"Maka...can we talk to you?" The fear in her eyes was palpable and he felt like the lowest sort of bastard. "It's nothing bad, I promise. Trust me?" After a moment she nodded and he led the entourage out onto a nearby balcony. Taking a deep breath, hoping the cool air would give him strength, knowing the others would understand his plan as he spoke, he stood beside her at the railing. Their friends were around them, the energy between them all palpable, yet flawed somehow.
"We've been talking," he started, hating the way her eyes shuttered as she looked at him. "Whatever this is, it's not something we can help with. And even if we could, you won't let us. So we think it might be a good idea if you took a few days, went somewhere to relax, see if you can find yourself again."
"You're throwing me out?" she gasped, a choking sound quickly muffled by manufactured anger. He grasped her hands and pulled her into his arms.
"Not at all. We want you happy again, Maka, and we don't know what to do. You don't have to go anywhere, but, well..." he paused, pulling back so he could look in her eyes, heartbroken at the flat, emotionless mask she wore. He couldn't speak, and was glad that Crona took up the mantle.
"Maka, we love you so much. But you're not happy with us, and we don't know how to change that. So maybe you should take a break from all of us."
"I'm so sorry, everyone," she said softly, bland expression cracking for a moment to give a glimpse of a pain so acute it could be felt through all of their souls. Liz actually flinched, and Tsubaki looked like she wanted to cry. But it was quick and over and Maka was back to her public persona. "If you think it's what's best for us all, I suppose I could use a vacation at that. I just...well, I don't know where I'd go." Soul sighed. Here was the tricky part of his plan. She would either turn it down flat and be pissed that he was trying to make her decisions, or – and this was his hope – she'd think it was a good idea.
"Um...Professor Stein said you could crash at the lab if you wanted." She turned incredulous eyes to him, and he wilted. "I promise, I didn't want to make a decision for you, but I wanted to cover all the bases. And you seem to relax around him, so I thought, maybe, it would be a good idea." He wasn't sure if it was the pleading in his voice or if she really wasn't averse to the idea to begin with, but she heaved a dejected sigh and nodded.
"Okay. Let me go get some things together."
"You don't have to leave now, Maka!" Crona rushed to assure her, but she shook her head.
"He doesn't want to be with all of these people any more than I do. It would be best if we slipped out during the party when people won't be as likely to notice us both leaving. It's a good thing that he went to the library a while ago, in fact...it won't even look like we left at the same time."
"How did you know he was in the library?" Soul couldn't help but ask. They wry look she shot him was the closest he'd seen to the real Maka in weeks.
"Because it's where I would be if I weren't here." A small smile lifted the corners of her lips, and she stepped forward to hug each of them in turn. Soul was last, and he noticed she clung to him a bit before letting go. "I'll go grab my things and head out. I trust you all will make my excuses?" After being assured they would indeed, she nodded once and walked past them all and headed back into the house. Almost to the doorway, she spoke over her shoulder.
"Tell him I'll be at the lab, and not to rush. I know where the spare key is. I can just let myself in." She disappeared around the corner and they all looked at one another.
"So when did this plan come into being?" Kid asked curiously. Soul shrugged.
"I asked Stein earlier if he'd try to talk to her, and while she told him she didn't want to talk right now, that's still more than she's told any of us. I figured rather than us taking off and leaving her alone here – especially since we don't know what's got her so bothered – it would be better if she stayed with him. At the very least, he won't constantly badger her like we do. And if she does need something, she won't be by herself."
"Makes sense," Liz said. "I hope it works, Soul." They all turned to look into the house, knowing they wouldn't see her leave but sending their love to her anyway.
"Me too, Liz. Me too."
The lab was quiet, still, and she put her bag down against the wall. Not sure exactly what she planned, she sat on the couch and pulled her feet up beside her. The weariness she'd been carrying like a shroud pressed down on her at once, all of the strain of the past weeks rocketing through her, and she gasped out loud and curled into a ball, heedless of the fact that she was still wearing her dress and shoes. She felt a stab of pain in her abdomen, as though it was sympathizing with the pain in her soul, and bit back a sob. It wouldn't do to be a weeping mess when Stein got home. She just had to hold it together until he showed up. He could tell her where she could sleep, and she could curl up in bed and pull the blankets over her head. Only then would she allow herself tears. She would not be weak.
The sound of the door opening had her sitting up and straightening her clothing. His expression when he saw her on the couch was unsurprised and concerned in equal measures.
"Hello, Professor," she said quietly. "Thank you for this. I don't want to impose."
"You could never be an imposition, Maka." He walked over and sat down next to her on the couch, reaching out to touch her hand. "Can I get you anything, or would you like to get some sleep?" At the mention of sleep she yawned, belatedly trying to hide it behind her hand and failing miserably. She looked at him sheepishly and his chuckle was warm, safe. "And there's my answer. Come on." He stood and pulled her up with him and despite her protests he carried her bag for her. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but she felt a twinge of disappointment when he led her to a door that was not his. The guest room looked comfortable, though, and the bed looked inviting to her, especially with as little sleep as she'd gotten lately. She stepped past him and ran a hand over the covers, turning around to thank him – and stopped dead at the look on his face. With silent footsteps he walked towards her, eyes gleaming with scarce-concealed appreciation, and he placed his hands on her arms. To her surprise, though, he turned her around and she heard his whispered prayer. She felt one fingertip trace the length of her spine exposed by the daringly low back of her dress, and despite her physical and mental fatigue she arched into his touch. She was unbelievably saddened when he moved his hand away and she turned around to ask him if anything was wrong when she saw him quivering.
"Stein?" He took a deep breath, reaching up to tighten his screw a few times.
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"What?" She was puzzled, the strain of recent days making her a little slower on the uptake than usual. Nonetheless she understood the gleam in his eyes – a gleam she was very familiar with.
"You look so angelic, Maka. But that dress...it invites my touch. And," he said, to her delight taking a step closer, "you're wearing those shoes." She blinked a few times.
"You like these shoes?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. After all, didn't she wear them for him, because of him, regardless of what she'd told her friends? In less than the space of a breath she was pinned in his arms, his fingers exploring her back once more while he growled in her ear.
"You know damn well I love those shoes, kitten," he muttered. "And now this dress is on my list of favorite attire as well. Sweet mother of Death, Maka, do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?" She shivered and leaned into his embrace but to her shock he let go, giving her a gentle push in the direction of the bed.
"Get some sleep. I'm done testing my own restraint tonight." She opened her mouth, but he forestalled any words by kissing her gently, thoroughly. "Not now, kitten. You've got too much to work through, and you need rest." He backed up, almost like he was afraid to turn his back on her, until he got to the door. "I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well." And just like that he was gone and she was left feeling more alive than she had since that day of death, cursing her own weakness as well as his strength. With frustrated fingers she managed to get out of her party clothes and into a soft button-down shirt that came down almost to her knees. She climbed into bed and ran her fingers over the off-center stitching of the shirt and, ignoring the clamoring of her body, finally managed to fall into a restless sleep.
The scream echoed through the lab and he was out of his room and down the hallway before he'd even fully awakened, bolting into her room to find her curled up in the center of the bed, arms wrapped around herself as she shook and shuddered. She didn't look up, even when he sat down beside her and dragged her against him, but she clung to him like a drowning woman clutching at a floating branch. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she seemed for all intents and purposes to be trying to burrow into his chest. His hands stroked through her hair as he whispered reassuring nonsense, his mind spinning at seeing the strong meister in such a state. He made a mental note to speak with Soul, to ask him if she'd been having nightmares like this recently, but he felt he already knew the answer. This wasn't the fear that comes with a sudden, unexpected bad dream. This was the mute terror of an old horror, one familiar and relentless. He knew the difference, knew it well, could feel it as surely as he could feel her racing heart. It took a long while for her to calm down, and even longer still for her to stop sobbing, but about forty minutes after she'd woken him with her cry she was starting to breathe easier, the gasps and shakes slowly fading.
"Maka," he whispered, not sure what else to say. He'd never been good at comforting people, his curious mind usually far more preoccupied with whether or not a person in distress would be more interesting under the scalpel than one that was calm, but she was different. She sniffled.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. It's okay now – I should be able to go back to sleep in a little while." She said this with the weariness brought on by familiarity, and he wondered what on earth had happened to shred her like this. She pulled out of his arms and he let her, though he watched her like a hawk as she did so. Sitting back against the headboard she brought her knees up and rested her arms on them, leaning her head forward until it was leaning against her forearms. "Go ahead back to sleep. I promise I'll try not to bother you again."
"Nonsense," he said. He was about to continue when his worried mind noticed something unexpected.
"Maka, are you wearing my shirt?" There was no real amusement in her chuckle but he saw a faint hint of pink cross her cheeks when she looked up at him, her eyes not meeting his.
"Um...yeah, sorry. I meant to give it back but...well, I forgot and it is comfortable, and...you can have it back. I'm sorry." She began to reach for the buttons and he reached one large hand over to settle atop hers, stopping her movements both out of a need to calm her and the fact that, while Maka in nothing but his shirt was a temptation, he knew exactly how much more powerfully Maka in nothing at all would affect his libido.
"Don't worry about it. I have others. And it's a good look on you," he teased. As he'd hoped it garnered him a small smile, but even though it wasn't the fake ones she'd been handing out like candy neither was it the smile he was used to seeing. She stretched out her legs and leaned her weary head back against the headboard, and he forced himself to pay attention to her – and not to the miles of bare legs that were left to his gaze.
"I'm so tired of this," she murmured, and he knew she didn't mean for him to hear it, so he didn't reply. Instead he scooted over until he had mimicked her position, close enough to her that she could lean on him if she chose to but hopefully separate enough that she wouldn't feel pressured.
"What's got you so upset?" he said softly. She shook her head, her sleep-tousled hair falling every which way over her shoulders.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I know you don't. And normally I'd let it slide. But this wasn't a new nightmare, was it? This was a familiar one. And I know from experience that if it's still bothering you this badly even after you've had it for a while, there's something to it that you need to face. Let me help you." She opened one eye and turned her head towards him, her voice soft and still a little dazed from her ordeal. Something made her open both eyes wide and he felt her rake her gaze over his reclining form.
"You don't play fair, Professor," she muttered, the husky note in her words familiar and – given the circumstances – a little disturbing.
"Why do you say that?" She just gestured to him and smirked.
"Really? You come into my bed some hours after midnight in just a pair of loose-waisted black pants with your hair all mussed up and your eyes still sleep-dark, and you wonder why I say you cheat." He blinked at the abrupt conversational shift, unable to keep a smile from his lips. She wanted a distraction, and though he knew she'd have to face herself before this would all be over, he felt inclined to play along this time. Returning her perusal look for look he gave a soft snort.
"I cheat? Kitten, have you seen the way you look right now? Nothing is sexier to a man than a woman wearing his shirt, and I'd lay even odds that underneath that material you're completely bare." She blushed and he grinned wickedly. "So who's cheating now?" He didn't have a clue what she planned but when she threw herself at him, her lips crashing against his in a frenzy he caught her instinctively and gave her full control. Her tongue was doing its level best to possess his mouth and her hands were hot and wild as she stroked his chest, his neck, grinding herself against him frantically. He'd never seen this from her, this desperation, this need to leave everything behind and drown herself in sensation, but she was insistent and he was...well, honestly, he was enjoying the hell out of it. Her talented fingers yanked his pants away from his waist and the feel of her grasping his swiftly hardening dick drove every worry, every concern to a more manageable place in the back of his mind, to be dealt with later.
She took him there in that bed. There was no other way to describe her actions. He'd barely had time to register everything she was doing by the time she shoved him down on the mattress and yanked his sleep pants down and off, and then she was straddling him, hot and wet and her incredible tightness was closing around him with every determined movement. His head arched back of its own accord, her name spilling from his lips as she pinned his wrists in her hands and pounded her hips down against his. He couldn't imagine how much pain she must be in to be so frenetic, so needy, and then she shifted her hips and leaned forward to kiss him and every thought he had was successfully erased, leaving only the enjoyment of the goddess currently riding his cock like her life depended on it. Her own moans were loud, unchained, and the sound of his name on those wicked, wicked lips when she came unglued damn near wrenched any control he had from his grasp, but he refused to give in so soon. She panted, she quivered, and then she leaned down to whisper in his ear, her lips and tongue teasing the skin.
"I need to feel you, Stein, please...fuck me, flood me, I need you so much..." She let go of his wrists and he took it as the invitation it was and flipped them over. Her eyes were glazed, her body flushed, and he wanted to pound himself so far into her that he imprinted the head of his cock on her cervix. She whimpered and begged for more, and he knew he should be worried that he might hurt her but he couldn't think beyond her begging gasps for him to fill her, to take her, and when he lifted one of her ankles in each hand and spread them wide, loving her flexibility, her willingness, her eager warmth clasping him in its velvet grip, he knew he was lost. With a cry of absolute surrender he drove deep and bucked against her, feeling her explode around him as she milked him dry. She moaned with every shift, every jet of his essence into her still quaking depths. Aeons later, exhausted mentally and physically, he rolled to the side, pulling her with him, unwilling to disconnect their bodies for even a moment. He lifted her leg high on his hip and settled them both down, holding her panting form against him.
"That was amazing," she whispered, and while he knew she had needed the drive, the fire, he also knew it wasn't what she really needed. He kissed her forehead.
"You can't run from yourself forever. Or from me." She yawned, tilting her hips into his and leaning her head against his chest.
"Not forever. Just for a while. Just until I can...block out the..." yawn "...the pain..." And then she was sleeping deeply, and he was left holding the slim, troubled beauty. To no one's surprise he lay awake for a long time after that before his whirling thoughts left him be long enough to follow her into sleep's embrace.
The next day seemed almost surreal. She'd been gone when he awoke, stretching in the guest bed he never used and inhaling her scent as it surrounded him. Another scent tickled his nose and he swung his legs over the side of the mattress, finding his pants on the floor and pulling them on. He tied them loosely around his hips and went in search of the unfamiliar smells.
He found their source in the form of one blond girl, skillfully juggling three skillets and a coffee pot, and he paused in the doorway to his kitchen to take in the sight of Maka – still only wearing his shirt – as she whipped up a breakfast like he hadn't ever had in his own home. Usually he was more of a coffee and muffin person, if he bothered to have anything at all, but the tempting aromas of french toast, eggs, and ham made him salivate. With a deft movement she poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him, grinning at the slightly stunned look on his face. He noticed it was a genuine smile, if small, and marveled at how much more together she seemed this morning than she had the day before.
"Go sit down. Food's almost ready." For the second time in as many days he had the odd sense of having fallen into a different dimension, but did as he was told and took a seat at the table. A short time later Maka came in carrying three huge serving plates and their own dishes and silverware with the skill of a professional waitress, placing everything easily on the table and starting to dip out her own breakfast. He was also piling food on his plate and when she took a bite of her eggs, her lips curling around the fork in ways that quite frankly should be illegal, especially this early in the morning, as should the moan of happiness that accompanied her chewing.
"I'm so famished," she said with a happy mumble. "I haven't been this hungry in ages. Must be all the exercise." He choked slightly on his french toast and her grin was impish and playful. He matched it with one of his own.
"I find I'm rather hungry myself," he said, glancing at her and loving the blush that slipped across her cheeks as she caught his double entendre. Nothing else was said for the rest of breakfast, both of them being far too busy eating to engage in pointless conversation. In short order the plates were cleared and he was helping her carry them to the kitchen. He refilled his coffee and propped a hip against the counter while he watched her clean up the counters and put the dishes to soak.
"So what did you want to do today?" he asked casually, keeping any hint of interrogation from his voice. She glanced over her shoulder at him and he laughed when she turned away quickly, having let more slip in that one look than she'd intended.
"I thought maybe I'd read. I brought some books along that I hadn't had time to get to yet, what with the...kishin and all." Her voice had gone from strong to soft, sad, and Stein debated whether or not to ask what had changed her mood so quickly, but he knew it would be counterproductive. He wanted her to open up, and he wouldn't get that if he badgered her. Instead he just nodded.
"Sounds good. I have some work to do – Lord Death has asked me to do an autopsy on one of the witches that fell in the battle, and I have been putting it off until all the celebrations were over so I could be sure no one would be showing up on my doorstep to drag me out somewhere." He took a swallow of coffee.
"I'll stay out of your way, don't worry," she said, her voice still sad, and he couldn't stand to hear it. He walked over and set his cup down on the counter so he could pull her into a hug.
"Maka, you silly girl. I didn't mean you. I meant those other idiots we know. You are more than welcome here any time. Make yourself at home, I mean it. Anything you want is yours." He slid his fingers from her temple down the length of her hair and smiled when she leaned into his embrace.
"Thank you Stein. Really. I don't...I couldn't take being at the mansion, with their questions and their concern and their pity. So thank you." Her kiss was sweet and gentle and everything their kisses the previous night were not. She walked out of the kitchen and he watched her go, thinking of ways to get her to confide in him. He decided the best thing to do was nothing at all. Maka would come to him eventually. And if not – well, there would be time later for more drastic measures. Giving her shoulder a slight caress he took himself off to his lab to begin his work.
She'd forgotten how pleasant it could be to read, just to sit with her book without someone barging in or bothering her. How pleasant...but also how lonely. It was a feeling she could rarely remember experiencing, but there was no doubt about it. I guess everything screwed me up more than I thought, she mused sadly. Still, she knew that there was a fairly comfortable chair in Stein's lab, and she figured as long as she went in quietly and didn't disturb him he wouldn't be averse to her making use of said chair and reading. Thus decided, she wandered down the hallway towards the laboratory. He only looked up briefly when she entered, but his smile was so welcoming in that second that she knew she'd made the right decision. Sure enough, she found it easier to settle in with her book knowing he was in the same room. Eventually her mind was focused completely in the story she was reading, only to be pulled out of his by the soft words of the previously silent man.
"Well, this is interesting," he said out loud. Maka blinked and looked up from her pages.
"What is?" she asked curiously. Laying the book down on the arm of the chair she stood and walked over to the table. There was the witch he'd been asked to examine. The meister thought she would feel weird somehow, seeing the corpse with its y-incision and the other obvious marks of death, but to her surprise she wasn't really disturbed. He motioned with one glove-clad finger to an organ that she couldn't quite identify. All of their dissection labs had been animals, so seeing the internal parts of a human body was a new experience.
"Right here," he said, lifting a flap of tissue. "See how this is swollen?" She didn't really, since she didn't know what it was she was looking at or what it was supposed to look like originally, but she nodded anyway. He continued.
"She was pregnant when the kishin killed her."
A moment later the doctor was looking down at the girl who was laying, unconscious, in the spot she had just been standing.
...so tired...she was so tired...everyone was...they'd come so far, this was it...she ignored the blood on her face, on her arms, the sticky feel of it...ignored everything but the need to end this, finish this...so close to victory...
...Soul and Lord Death were a formidable team...her pride in her lover was unparallelled...she saw Kid and his twin pistols...the determination on their faces made her fight all the harder...Black Star and Tsubaki were moving together in their own dance of death, the Enchanted Sword spinning in his hands like a blade of energy...Crona, and Ragnarok, such a powerful team...but they weren't enough...she could feel them all, could feel the kishin pushing against them...
...never had she been so happy to see her Papa...she locked eyes with Stein as he stepped up beside her, wielding the Death Scythe...this was it, this was the last push...at her signal her friends began to resonate with her, their souls joining and swelling with a power unmatched by any of their peers...and it still wasn't enough...a light touch on her hand and his olive eyes gave her confidence...he blinked, she nodded, and then he and his weapon, her father, were joining the resonance group, and the power...oh Death the power!...and the sound of Soul's piano joined in, boosting them, lifting them...they were beating the kishin back, beating it down...almost there...
...Ragnarok burst free and shielded his meister, the slight form of Crona crumpling to the ground under the repeated blows...Black Star cried out in pain, refusing to give an inch...Kid collapsed to his knees, holding himself up through sheer force of will...she could feel them all through the bond, feel how close they were to their limits, and she knew she had no choice...no more holding back...all or nothing...
...surrounded by those she loved...faced with a future not worth living should they lose...she wouldn't let that happen...closing her eyes, she saw their faces flash before her in quick succession...no...no more...no more would they be hurt because of this bastard, not when she could stop it...
...decision made, the choice tearing her apart, she gave in to the power racing through her and surrendered completely...knowing that in letting one light sputter and fade, she would be giving light to the rest of the world...light...life...didn't matter...she pushed herself to the breaking point and when she screamed the very heavens shook...and she made the sacrifice only she could make...because she had to keep them safe.
Her eyes opened slowly, the pain wracking her body and soul almost more than she could bear. She wasn't even fully conscious yet and she could feel her tears pouring over her cheeks. She was wrapped in warmth, Stein's strong arms holding her to his chest in a protective grip. As though he'd been waiting for her to awaken, she felt his breath hitch.
"Maka," he whispered, his grip tightening with worry. "What happened?" And though she intended to gather herself together and brush off the question just like all the other ones she'd been asked recently, the power of her memories was far too great. When she opened her mouth, what came out was nothing like she'd planned.
"I had to do it," she gasped, barely coherent through her crying.
"What, Maka? What did you have to do?" His voice washed over her and she wasn't strong enough anymore. With a cry of defeat she blurted out the one thing she'd wanted to keep hidden.
"My baby...I had to kill my baby..." She collapsed further into his arms, missing the look of disbelief and horror that crossed his face as she tried to convince her body to let her black out again. The outside world hurt too much to want to deal with it. She had never been more grateful for anything in her life as she was for the darkness that took her away.
Stretched out on the bed beside her, he felt her shaking even in sleep. His mind whirled with the memory of the few words she had spoken. What did she mean? he asked himself. She was still crying, still shivering, so he brought her into his arms and dragged the blanket up to cover them both, tucking it in around her and holding her tightly enough to feel her ribs against his own. He would never admit it to anyone but when he had seen her crumple to the ground a shock of terror shot through him so strongly that he nearly went down, too. And then she woke up only long enough to completely break down before passing out again. He settled in for a long night of watching her – he refused to leave her side, not until she'd come back to him and he could see what exactly had happened. It could have been hours that he lay there with her slim form wrapped in his larger one, but he didn't care. His patience paid off as, some time in the darkness of night, she began to wake.
"Stein?" she whispered hesitantly, though he knew she knew he was there. He kissed the top of her head.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Whatever for?"
"For being a whining burden."
"You aren't a burden. And you haven't whined yet." She pressed herself against him, seeking comfort he was more than willing to give. Silence covered them as thoroughly as the blanket did. Once more, it was she that broke it.
"No one knew." She was speaking into his chest and though he wanted to much to watch her eyes as she talked he knew she wouldn't have the strength for that yet, so he held her and let her hide against him as she needed.
"No one knew what?" He had a very good guess as to what she was going to say, but he also knew she had to hear herself say it. Her response was a long time in coming.
"...that I was pregnant." She sighed. "I'd just found out a couple of days before...before the battle."
"I thought you were all taking precautions."
"We were," she murmured, her voice taking on a tinge of exasperation he instinctively knew was directed at herself. "But with the preparations, and all the confusion and the drills and the extra training...early last month I knew I'd slipped up in my routine. I explained it to everyone, and decided I wouldn't risk having sex with anyone until I made sure I was back on track with my medicine, but...well, impending war does strange things to a person." She seemed to find it easier to speak now, and he chose to remain silent to let her say what she needed to, whatever she wished to.
"Soul and I...well, we all know what happened. I found out a couple of weeks later, the morning before the eve of battle, as it were. I was going to wait until after the fight, until after we'd defeated the kishin, to tell Soul." She sighed. "I wasn't sure if I was ready to be a parent, if he was ready – I never wanted to do what my Mama and Papa did, never wanted to have a child so young. But once I found out...of course I was terrified, but I was excited too.
"But then we were fighting and I saw Crona go down, and even with you and Papa, even with Soul's music, I knew we weren't going to make it, and it was all because I was using some of my soul's strength to protect the baby. I was the one that was going to get everyone killed."
"Maka..." he whispered, feeling her pain as keenly as if it were his own, but now that she had begun to speak she was determined to get it all out and ignored his offering of comfort.
"How could I watch the ones I loved die? Crona was already down, and Ragnarok was fading away into a pool of black blood that wasn't hardening anymore. Black Star and Tsubaki were almost drained; so were Kid and the girls. Even Lord Death's and Soul...the kishin was beating them back. And you, and Papa...and I saw you all dead, I saw what it would be like if we lost. And I couldn't justify losing the entire world to save a baby that wasn't even a planned part of my life.
"I turned all of my soul power outward. I gave up protecting my baby. And I felt it die as the kishin did. It was still too new, too small to survive that much resonance power. I felt it die." She was crying again, and he could think of nothing to do but hold her. This wasn't a wound he could close; it wasn't something he could fix, not with all the mental reconstruction in the world. This was something that would never truly heal. And he felt helpless as the girl in his arms mourned the loss of something she'd barely gotten to know.
It was a subdued Maka that sat at the breakfast table the next morning. There was no grand meal, but he would have been more worried if there were. It would have meant she was blocking her feelings again, pretending things were fine. He sat down across from her and grasped her hands where they curled around her cold cup of coffee. He knew better than to ask how she was feeling – her despair and guilt were etched into every line of her being. He waited for her to speak first, offering silent support.
"They won't understand." Her voice was bare skeleton.
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. They won't understand the choice I had to make."
"They love you. I think you underestimate them."
"I love them too...but this is something I...how do I even tell them? How do I tell him?"
"Soul?
"Yeah."
"Maka, trust me when I say your weapon is so desperate for you to talk to him that he would listen to anything you had to say, be it reciting a grocery list or explaining why you've pulled away these past weeks."
"You sound sure."
"I am. He came to me, after all."
"He did?"
"Yes. He asked if I'd try and talk to you. They're all scared for you, Maka."
"So, you let me come here and stay with you as, what? A favor to the other man in my bed?" Her voice had gone from sad to hurt and he raised one finger under her chin to make her look at him.
"You know better than that."
"Do I?" Harsh words, but he knew she was lashing out with her own pain, so he didn't let himself take offense.
"Think about how well we've gotten to know each other, in and out of bed. Do you really think anyone could convince me to do something I didn't want to do?" She huffed and looked away. The silence stretched, strained, for untold minutes. Her coffee had been forgotten, though she still held the cup and he still had one hand over hers. He saw the exact moment that her last defenses collapsed. With a hitch in her breath she sunk down in her chair, but he wasn't letting her carry this alone. Once more she was lifted into his arms, though this time they ended up on the couch rather than either bed.
"I hate being so weak," she muttered, and he stroked her hair.
"Everyone does. But right now you have a damn good reason. And you don't have to be strong, not when you have your family ready to help you shoulder this. Not when you have me." It was a long time before either of them spoke or moved. Finally, though, she seemed to gather her strength and sit up. He was afraid to look at her, afraid to see her fake smile back in place, but he forced himself to meet her eyes anyway. He was glad he did. She was broken, she was hurt. She was completely destroyed. She was utterly beautiful. And she wasn't hiding any more.
"Stein?" She took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "Will you come with me? I don't...I don't think I can do this alone."
"You'd have a hard time getting me to stay away." She nodded once, acknowledgment of his reassurance, and stood up slowly. He was confused to see the hint of a wicked smile curve her lips. She looked him over once, then glanced at herself.
"Maybe, though, we should get dressed. I know no one would mind seeing you like that -" she said, gesturing to his still shirtless self, "- but I think me walking into the house in nothing but your crumpled shirt could bring on some comments I doubt we need to deal with right now." He was happy to hear her laugh lightly and they headed off to their respective rooms to get dressed.
Even with Stein at her side she dreaded walking in that door more than she'd ever feared anything in her life. Still, she had to face them sometime. She turned the knob and walked in, her breath catching in her throat as she set foot inside the mansion, ready for the first time since the battle to confess her sins to her family. Of course they had all seen her coming – doubtless they'd been gathered at the window as soon as Stein had called and said they were on their way. But to her shock no one approached. She didn't know if it would have been easier if they had. This way she had to walk to them, had to bridge that gap of her own free will. The gentle touch on the small of her back gave her the strength to take that first step, though, and she took the next one on her own.
"Welcome home," Soul said, his expression guarded, curious, glancing to the professor before looking back to his partner. No one else said anything, and Maka swallowed hard.
"I...I have something I need to tell you all." Without a word Crona walked up to her, catching her in a hug before walking with her to the living room. She looked over her shoulder at Stein and was comforted to see him right beside her, just as he'd said he would be. Everyone followed and within moments the chairs and couch were full, everyone focusing on the blond sitting in the center of the couch. Stein had taken the seat to her right and, after a moment of uncertainty apparently calmed when the older man nodded slightly, Soul sat to her left.
"I don't know where to start..." she muttered.
"Wherever you want, Maka. We're listening." The unexpected calmness from Black Star drove home the fact that they were indeed waiting for her, that all they had wanted was for her to tell them what was wrong. She spoke quietly, but found that it was easier with this second telling. It helped that she had her support in the form of one tall, silent teacher sitting beside her. His solidness was a buffer against her own fear. But when she got to the crucial part, the crux of her heartache, even Stein's presence wasn't enough to keep the tears at bay. And when she finally told them, when she had confessed everything, she found she couldn't meet anyone's eyes anymore. She closed her own and slumped backwards against the professor's chest, bringing her hands up to cover her tear-soaked face. She didn't want to see the revulsion, the disgust on their faces, so she hid.
The soft touch on her arm didn't quite pull her out of her own despair, but the way Soul groaned her name – harsh, low, as full of pain as she felt – broke the last of her pride. Instead of collapsing back further into Stein's arms, she was hauled forward and pressed against a firm, familiar chest, Soul's arms wrapping so tightly around her she wondered if she could breathe.
"Death, Maka...why?" There it was, the censure she was expecting. She forced herself out of his arms and sat up, expecting to see accusation in his expression. It wasn't there. All she saw, all she felt from him, was love, acceptance, need...a sorrow that rivaled her own, true, but there was no blame. He continued, eyes reaching out to her as his hands obviously wanted to but didn't.
"Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you. We could have faced this together. This isn't something you should have ever had to deal with on your own. I love you so much – why wouldn't you trust me?"
"I do trust you," she whispered. "I just don't trust myself." He looked at her skeptically and he exploded, her words full of self-hatred. "What – was I supposed to bring it up over dinner? 'Oh, wonderful rigatoni, Tsubaki...by the way, Soul, remember that fight we were just in? Well, I decided to kill the our baby – oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I was carrying your child, silly me - in order to save everyone else. Where's dessert?' What the hell would you have had me do? Oh, wait, I know. You went and recruited Stein to fuck some sense into me, is that it?" She was standing now, finally letting out the anger and the pain, not just the sadness and guilt. In one quick movement Soul was standing in front of her, matching her glare for glare.
"Bullshit, Maka. You know better. You know I would stand by you through everything. At least, I thought you did. And now you're all pissed off because I was sick of watching you rip yourself apart from the inside out over a choice that would have destroyed any other person I've ever met. You're pissed because when you wouldn't talk to me I went to the one person I could trust to take care of you? Fuck that. YOU were the one that closed yourself off. YOU were the one that decided we weren't worth trusting to help you. Damn it all, Maka. Don't you dare blame me for the grand sin of being in love with you." The room was as still as a corpse, no one wanting to even breathe for fear of triggering something worse.
"I don't blame you for that, Soul. Hell, I don't blame you for anything. I was the one that begged you to make love to me when I knew the timing was bad. I was the one that kept you from pulling out when you came. I was the one that sacrificed our baby without even letting you know it existed. Don't you see? I. BLAME. MYSELF!" Her eyes were overflowing, her nose was red, her countenance was full of determination, anger, and enough guilt to sink a ship. Under all the stress, all the strain, it was not surprising at all that her knees buckled and she headed toward the floor. She never hit. Instead she found herself wrapped in Soul's arms, held to him while he shared her tears.
"Maka, I love you. Please stop blaming yourself. You did the only thing you could." Pulling back slightly he brought his lips to hers, tasting her tears as they mingled with his own. "Please don't leave me, Maka. Please. I'd die without you."
"But I...even after..." He placed a finger over her mouth.
"I won't say I'm not upset about it. I am. But it doesn't matter. I love you. I need you. I want you with me, forever. Please, come back to me. Let me share your pain with you. Let me hold you." They were both openly crying now, as was everyone else in the room. She sniffled and nodded her head against his chest.
"Oh, Soul...I love you so much. I didn't want to tell you because I thought I would lose you."
"You'll never lose me. Never." They had dropped to their knees, still embracing. "I can live with anything else. But I don't want to live without you. None of us do." A second set of arms encircled the blond from behind and she could smell Tsubaki's shampoo. Shortly afterward she felt Kid, then Patty...Liz and Black Star and Crona...Maka gasped in shock. One by one they offered their support, their understanding, their love. She didn't want to believe it, because she was afraid she'd wake up and find out it was all a dream. Their repeated murmurs and reassurances were all she'd ever wanted, it seemed, and now that they were all together again, she wanted to wrap herself in their love and block out the rest of the world.
A long time passed while they knelt on the floor, but eventually Liz muttered that her knees hurt, and Black Star said he didn't know why, wasn't she a pro at being on her knees, and the resulting laughter accompanied by the tall female weapon's feigned indignant response broke the last of the tension. Maka relaxed, buoyed by the acceptance and love she thought she would never feel again. Laying in the dogpile on the floor, she looked up and met the eyes of the man who had, once again, helped her find her way. He was sitting, a smile on his face, taking an occasional drag on a cigarette, and she wondered what she had ever done in her life to deserve such a wonderful family, and a wonderful savior. She glanced down at Soul who was sprawled underneath her, and his smile was all the permission she needed. Crawling back up on the couch she slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Thank you."
"You say that an awful lot," he grinned.
"Because you do an awful lot that deserves my thanks," she joked back. Her voice turned serious. "I don't even know if thanks are enough for this. You kept me from losing myself."
"Well, we couldn't have that. The second most powerful meister Shibusen has ever seen could not be permitted to slip into shadows."
"Second most?" she asked archly. He nodded, crushing out his cigarette with his fingertips.
"Of course. You still haven't managed to best me." His smile warmed her from the inside out and she began to smile as well.
"Now THAT sounds like a contest!" Black Star crowed. "You two should totally duel."
"Maybe someday," Stein said innocently. "I'd have to go easy on her – wouldn't want to hurt my favorite girl."
"Favorite girl? I'm your only girl – wait, what did you just say? Go easy on me? Don't want to hurt me? You overconfident, egotistical mrrghrllm-" She heard the cackling laughter behind her as he stopped her retort with his lips, the sound turning to catcalls and whistles as he kissed her thoroughly. When he finally let her go again, she sat in a daze for a moment while her family tossed out smartassed comments.
"Yes. I don't want to hurt you." He winked and his voice dropped so low only she could hear it. "Unless, of course, you ask me to."
"Hey, no flirting," Patty said with a smirk.
"Yeah. Not unless you plan to give us a show," her sister chimed in.
"It's a helluva show," Soul said cheekily. "I'd pay to see that again."
"Yeah, just rub it in, you got to go along and we didn't." The girls mock glared at the white-haired weapon who simply lay there with a shit-eating grin on his face. Maka looked around the room at everyone, all of the people she loved. People she had fought for. People she would die for. And even though she knew it would be a long time before the pain of the choice she made faded, she knew in her heart that she would never have to deal with it alone anymore.
Another chill morning found weapon and meister leaning against the outside wall of the lab again.
"So how is she?"
"She's good. Still has moments of melancholy, but she's letting us bear it with her now."
"That's good. She was so frightened that she would lose you all – you, especially."
"Yeah, the girl's a little crazy sometimes. She should know she's stuck with me." They stood there quietly, listening to the morning birdcalls.
"Stein – I really just came here to thank you. You promised you'd be there for her, and you were. You did something none of us could accomplish, and because of that, Maka is Maka again. So, thanks."
"Of course. I couldn't stand to see her in pain any more than you could."
"And you say you don't understand love," the boy said softly. "Anyway, see you at the barbeque next week?"
"Of course." Soul walked away, hands in his pockets and his step lighter than it had been for a long time. Stein flicked the remnants of his cigarette away and headed back inside.