And so begins part two.

Unclaimer: Maddy still owns and gains nothing.

"Why the hell would you send my daughter - or any child, for that matter, after such a powerful weapon?" He learned what the weapon, Fullmetal, could do.

"There is a good reason, Spirit. You must calm down."

"Yeah? Then what is the reason, if you don't mind my asking, Death?" There was fire in the man's eyes.

"I will tell you, Spirit. We are in my Death Room, there are no snakes here. But you must understand; this is completely confidential. From one father to another."

"...Alright."

"Eibon's real name was Van Hoenheim of Light."

"What? What does that-"

"Hush. He had two sons, one of which was Fullmetal. That explains how Fullmetal could have lasted so long in his weapon form; any normal mortal's soul would have faded to nothing ages ago. But with the inherited power of the Alchemist Eibon..." Death paused, thoughtful, reminiscing. "Fullmetal's power was virtually uncontrollable, however. There were only two people with souls powerful enough to handle him; his brother, who was his original meister, and myself."

"How could something like that..." he realized something, then. "Why are you bringing such a dangerous object to Shibusen, Lord Death?"

"Fullmetal is volatile, Spirit. He has remained dormant for so long that his corruption is almost inevitable. Madness is spreading. It has woken monsters and ancient witches who have slept for hundreds of years. Would it not do the same to a weapon? How would someone so unpredictable react? It has been 800 years since the lifetime he knows has ended; his brother and comrades are dead. While Fullmetal has great power, his weakness lies in his loved ones. If he were to awaken, that volatile soul of his would rot and go mad. That is why I have instructed Maka and her weapon to retrieve him. If he does wake up, if he goes mad, then I will destroy him and remove the threat he poses from existence."

"But why Maka? Stein's soul would be able to handle such a threat. So would I! We could have-" Death interrupted.

"Your daughter, Maka Albarn, has a very powerful soul, no?"

"Of course! She's her father's daughter! But-"

"Indeed, Spirit! But your daughter's soul is special; more special than Professor Stein's, even. It retains many of the qualities that the soul of Fullmetal's brother had; and even greater power beyond that. So you see, I selected your daughter specifically for this mission because if anything where to go wrong with Fullmetal, your daughter is probably one of the only people in the world who might be able to keep him under control. Do you understand?"

"...Yes."

"Very good. Now, please send for Professor Stein and give him the details of Maka and Soul's mission up until now. He will go and retrieve them."

"Yes sir." a pause. "Lord Death?"

"You need to stay here Spirit. Leave your daughter's protection to Stein."

"...Right."

Breakable

One week passed.

Then two.

Soul decided he would slap his partner awake if she decided to sleep for three.

Word of their misadventure in Germany was all over the school now; about half the student body (mostly the lower class-men) were convinced that Maka Albarn, top student at the DWMA, was dead underground.

Soul did his very best to ignore them.

He also did his best to ignore the pitying looks he got from everyone he walked past.

I heard his partner was killed in action.

No, she's still alive, just in a coma she's never gonna wake up from.

How sad...

Poor bastard...

Glad I'm not in his shoes...

And so forth.

People wondered about the weapon they brought back with them. Death was about as silent as death could be about the matter, though students said that upon visiting the Death Room, they saw the age-old scythe resting against Death's mirror.

If he was keeping it that close, it had to be a big deal, right?

'Course.

Franz had told him not to worry. The old man had smiled, looking morbidly positive for someone with a bandage around their head and cuts everywhere, and assured him that whatever had happened while the two of them were unconscious, they both did what they could and that Maka was a strong girl. She could pull out of whatever that death scythe did to her.

What the hell did that death scythe do to her? Professor Stein said that when he and the rep found them, the scythe was in Maka's hand, while Soul had been sprawled out several yards away from the apparent scene of the initial fight. The ancient weapon's chains had been spread around her, some coiled loosely around her arms while one was wound tight around her left leg, which was broken. Upon removing the chains, Stein had found her tibia snapped in two, bone jutting out of her skin. The situation wasn't looking very good for Fullmetal, to say the least.

Soul visited Maka every day. He pestered Nygus all the time, desperate to know when his friend would wake up, but she would only lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and tell him to have patience.

He wanted to. He really did.

He could only hold out for so long though.

It was difficult, sitting around and doing nothing. All he could do was sit next to her sleeping form and hold her hand. Occasionally, when Nygus was away and everyone else who came to visit had left the campus, Soul would sneak a guitar from the music rooms and pluck some notes for her. He couldn't play the guitar like he could play piano, and the sling keeping his arm from being jarred about and bothering his healing collarbone hindered him greatly, but the guitar was easier to move from one room to the other. Plus, it gave him something to do aside from worry or feel sorry for himself; both got him nowhere but into the pits of depression and insanity very quickly.

At the apartment he would violently pound into the keys of his electric keyboard and urge low, ugly sounds to come singing from its old speakers. He only used his right hand, the one that wasn't immobile, and did his best to take his mind off of the ache in his shoulder and his comatose partner.

Black Star came over to pester him regularly, along with Tsubaki. Usually the gentle Dark Arm weapon brought along a nice assortment of snacks for the boys to eat, which was always a nice change from the leftovers and slices of plain bread Soul was currently living off of. (He just didn't have it in him to cook, then there was his arm and the bloody sling...) Kid and the Thompson sisters didn't come over quite as much, but when they did it was quite a bit more relaxing than when Black Star was rampaging about. Liz, Kid and Soul would all sit in the small living-room and talk about trivial things while Patty played on the carpet. Eventually the conversation would fizzle out and they would all sit in a comforting silence, Patty's soft squeals and giggles the only disturbance in the quiet. To be honest, it was sort of nice - homely even. Soul just wished that Maka was leaning against him on their little couch and smiling contently along with everyone else. Even Blair had lost some of her pep with the young meister's absence.

It was around 2 AM during Maka's third week that Soul got a call from Nygus. She wasn't awake, but she was certainly more active than she had been since they arrived back at the academy. Nygus wanted him there with her in case she woke up.

Soul wasted no time; the phone was left hanging by the chord and he didn't bother putting on the pants that he grabbed off of the couch until he was in Maka's room in the infirmary. Shoes were trivial and unimportant.

Nygus gave him a bemused look but said nothing, instead making room for him to get to Maka's bed. She was paler looking in the washed out light and a sheen of sweat coated her skin. Instead of the peaceful look she wore in her slumber, her brow was furrowed and a small frown twisted at her thin lips. Her lashes fluttered and her head turned to the side, then back again. She let out a small whimper.

"What's wrong with her?" Soul demanded, good hand hovering above his meister's form, wanting to shake her awake and sooth back into a peaceful sleep at the same time. He settled with taking her hand in his. His heart fluttered with hope when her slender fingers wrapped tight around his, then he was trying not to flinch when her grip tightened to the point where his hand began hurting.

"All of her vitals are fine, aside from a slightly increased heart-rate," Nygus informed him. "I've also upped her dose of painkillers a bit to make sure she's comfortable." There was a sharp nock on the door, then Spirit Albarn was entering the room, demanding to know how Maka was. Professor Stein followed him in at a slower pace; he was noticeably less worried, though his lips were pressed together into a grim line of anticipation.

"What's happening, Nygus?" Spirit was even more demanding than Soul had been. He loomed over the teens and fixed his cold blue stare on his daughter's scrunched up face. The man's trembling hand touched her forehead gently, only to pull back quickly, like he had been burned. "Nygus, she's burning up! Aren't you taking care of her?" The man rounded on the nurse, who managed to remain calm. Before Spirit could say any more, Stein cut between them and placed his own steady hand on her head. It slid down to the pulse on her neck, where it remained for a moment.

"Calm down, Spirit. It's just a dream, from the looks of it. She's fine."

"Then why is she so hot?"

"You've been pacing around outside in the cold for the past hour and a half. Your hand's are freezing and her forehead is it's normal temperature," Stein gave his former meister a somewhat exasperated look. Spirit looked flustered and seemed to bite back some sort of retort. Instead he turned to Nygus.

"My apologies, Nurse Nygus," he said stiffly. She shook her head gently, understanding in her ice blue eyes.

"I would be worried too," she told him. He nodded and looked back down at his daughter. Then over to Soul.

"You watch her closely, boy. Understand?" he growled out. Soul nodded his head in surprise.

"Yes, sir," he replied, steeling up. Satisfied, Spirit Albarn turned back to Nygus.

"Lets go into the hall and you can tell me how she's been doing," he said, motioning toward the door. Nygus nodded and followed the Death Scythe out, leaving Stein, Soul, and Maka in the room. Stein walked over to the small desk by the bed and grabbed a swivel chair, settling down in it on the other side of Maka's bed.

"I'd take this as a good sign," he said, watching Maka squirm in her sleep. Soul clutched her hand a bit tighter, watching her as well.

"You think?" Soul asked. He didn't want to put all his hope into her having a dream, but at the same time, he wanted nothing more than his partner to be out in the world again; not sleeping her life away in a hospital bed.

"Of course. Maka may not be the strongest physically, there's proof enough in the fact that she's been unconscious for three plus weeks after using the Fullmetal, but she's strong willed. And strong spirited," Professor Stein looked over at Soul, his grey-green eyes didn't hold much emotion, just some sort of deep understanding that went beyond the situation. "You of all people should know that."

"I guess so," Soul said, smiling a bit. "She'll come out of it. She's too stubborn to stay sleeping her whole life." Stein didn't say anything else, only offering a small smile. They sat in silence for a few minutes more before Spirit and Nygus reentered the room. Stein stood up and turned the screw in his head a few times.

"What now?" he asked, looking between the Death Scythe and nurse. Soul watched them too, wondering whether he would have to leave or not.

"Yeah," Lord Death said, making everyone jump. "What's up? How's Maka?" Everyone turned to the medicine cabinet with glass doors. Death's reflection stood within the glass, waving at his surprised staff and giving a wink and thumbs up to Soul, who had by then recovered and hung his head in exasperation.

"Ah, she's a lot more active than she has been, sir," Spirit spoke up, adjusting his tie a bit. "She isn't awake, but she seems...less comatose than before." He scratched his head at that, not really knowing a better way to describe the situation.

"Hmm... That sure is peculiar," Death said, peering at Maka. Everyone gave him questioning looks.

"We thought it was a good thing, Lord Death," Spirit said. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing really," Death waved a giant hand dismissively. "It's just that Fullmetal also seems to be stirring a bit as we speak. Odd that it would happen now, of all times." His mask skewed to the side, looking as curious as a mask could possibly look. Everyone in the room, save for the comatose Maka, stiffened at the news. Soul stood, though he didn't let go of Maka's hand. Spirit looked torn between staying with his daughter and rushing to the Death Room. Nygus was stiff, cool eyes never leaving Lord Death. Stein looked impassive. (It only occurred to Soul later that he probably knew already, thanks to his Soul Perception.)

"What do you want us to do, Lord Death?" Spirit asked, looking visibly disturbed. Death shrugged.

"Nothing, I guess. Unless you want to come up here and stare at my old Fullmetal." Soul sneered. Who even gave two shits about that stupid weapon anyway? It was dangerous and had threatened the life of his partner. It hardly even seemed worth the time. Sleeping soul be damned; that scythe needed to be melted down into silverware, in his opinion.

"...Alright. Come on Stein, we had better go make sure nothing happens," Spirit gave Maka one last longing look before steeling himself and leaving the room. "Nygus, call Sid and Marie and notify them of the situation. Better safe than sorry." He murmured the last part more to himself than anyone. Soul got the feeling he was already sorry. Nygus nodded and quickly exited the room into the small office where she kept all student files. Stein gave Soul a glance.

"You coming?" he asked. "Nygus will look after her, if you want to come up as well."

"Why the hell would I want to be anywhere near that thing?" Soul growled out. "I'll stay here."

Stein shrugged. "The more the merrier, I guess. Suit yourself." He turned and left without a backwards glance.

Soul settled himself down again and watched Maka. It was going to be a long night, he figured.

It was dark.

That was the first thing Maka noticed.

The second thing she noticed was that she was not alone.

Well, okay. Technically, she was alone. There was the very distinct thrumming of, well, something - she wasn't sure what - coming from somewhere behind her, giving her the feeling of there being more than one physical presence in the void she found herself in.

She turned in the void where she floated, searching for whatever it was that was buzzing so monotonously in the warm darkness. She could feel a sultry glow, see it tinge her pale skin with yellow and gold, outline her pigtails as they floated lazily around her head. She twisted in a slow and graceless pirouette, craning her head up at the last moment to see the enormity of the source of the displaced white noise.

It was monstrous. Its eerie glow temporarily blinded her sensitive eyes upon facing it fully. She squinted up, shielding her eyes with a hand. It...it was...

...Oh.

It was that stupid hex.

It was vibrating and flickering like an obnoxious neon sign.

It was just as unbelievably lame as she remembered it being.

The sign itself seemed to be made of metal and was a bright yellow. It turned on it's side like a rhombus or diamond with a circle with a slash through it. In the center of the circle, over the slash, dark, bold letters it read 'NO TRESPASSING'.

"Seriously?" she deadpanned, looking around for something more. Zip. Not a thing. She looked back at the sign, feeling sort of pissed.

NO TRESPASSING, it told her.

"Well too damn bad," Maka retorted with a huff.

NO TRESPASSING, it warned.

Maka squeezed her hands into fists and tried to think about something else. Something that wasn't as hideously annoying as the obnoxious hex that hung in the air above her.

Wait a second.

If she found the hex, that ment she was connected to Fullmetal. There was obviously some sort of resonance, since she managed to find it. She looked around again, reached out as she did before, looking for that monster of a wavelength she had felt when they fought together as meister (more like puppet) and weapon.

"Fullmetal?" she called out, pressing her soul outward as she did so. "Come out! I want to talk!" She moved closer to the sign - its buzzing was about to drive her mad - and pounded on it. "Hellooooo?! Death Scythe Fullmetal? Your stupid 'No trespassing' sign is lame!"

- Bang, bang, bang -

"Stupid, ugly, witch's hex!"

- Bang, bang, bang -

"I hope you rust!"

- BANG, BANG, BANG -

"Oh my God, stop."

Maka stopped, eyes wide, fist pulled back mid-swing. She turned around quickly, looking for the source of the voice.

"W-who's there? Fullmetal?"

"No, it's the sign - of course it's Fullmetal. Sheesh." He sounded extremely irritable. "What do you want?"

"Um, do you know how to break this hex?" Maka asked, suddenly feeling sort of embarrassed.

"If I did, I wouldn't be here right now, would I?"

Right.

"Where are you?"

"Well, where are you?"

"I'm in front of the sign."

"Guess that means I'm behind it." Oh, a smartass. Maka made a face.

"So..." the disembodied voice of the weapon drawled, "How'd you get here?" Good question.

"Beats me," Maka replied, turning to lean against the sign. "I just sort of woke up here."

"Huh, I just woke up here too...well, sorta." She imagined him shrugging. "There was this nasty fight... Say, you're not that soul from earlier are you?"

"What do you mean?" Was he talking about their encounter with that monster, or something from earlier, when he was sealed away?

"...I guess not." There was silence for a moment, aside from the mindless rattling and buzzing of the sign, which grew louder in the quiet.

"I'm Maka," Maka said by way of introduction.

"I guess you can call me Fullmetal," Fullmetal replied in a monotonous voice. "But you already knew to that, didn't you, Maka?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"Lord Death told me about you."

"Lord Death?"

"...Yes?"

"The Lord Death? Like, the Grim Reaper, keeper of mortal souls, Lord Death?"

"Yes, jeez who else would I be talking about?"

"How's a brat like you know about a guy like him?"

"I'm a scythe meister in training at the DWMA. I work for Death, in a sense."

He was quiet for a bit after that. Just when she thought she had scared him away, he replied:

"The fuck is the DWMA?" Maka snorted back a laugh.

"That's all you want to know?" she giggled, "It's the Death Weapon Meister Academy, where young weapons and meister go to train for fighting madness."

"What is so funny?" he demanded, sounding miffed.

"I'm just a kid, randomly here in your weird little hex-ridden mind void, claiming to be a scythe master, claiming to know Lord Death and work for him, and all you care about is what the acronym DWMA stands for? That's pretty funny, if you ask me." She heard him sigh and mutter something that didn't sound very english.

"Do you think you can get me out of here?" Fullmetal asked suddenly, surprising Maka.

"I don't know how either." She wilted, feeling guilty and disappointed. "I wish I could."

"It's okay, I didn't expect a good answer." His voice was softer now. "Thanks anyway." She didn't say 'you're welcome'; she hadn't done a thing to help him.

She sat/floated in front of the sign for a while, Fullmetal on the other side somewhere, each in their own thoughts, souls flickering together. The sign droned on.

Maka watched the blackness swirl about her; dark, swooping tendrils of nothing flickered away from the bright light of the sign. Maka blinked; once, twice, three times to see if she was actually seeing movement, or if the light and dark was just playing tricks. She could here an odd clicking coming from the sign as it buzzed. When she paused in her thoughts to listen, though, it was gone.

"...Hey, Fullmetal?" she asked. No answer.

"Fullmetal?" She straightened to face the sign again, only to be blinded. Had it been that bright before? It was so bright her temples began to hurt. Her ears were ringing. She tried to look away, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't move either, she realized with a wave of panic. She floated in Fullmetal's void, paralyzed and unable to look away from the hex.

She choked on a scream and felt her body stiffen further. Her mouth gaped open, trying to suck in air. But it was to no avail. She felt lightheaded; weightless. The sign was glowing brighter than before; it was radiating heat now. She started seeing dark spots dance across her vision from lack of air. The darkness was suddenly overwhelming. The sign was shining a piercing white white and it was only getting brighter.

What was happening?

"H-help..." It was all Maka could choke out before blackness took her completely.

In stark contrast to the darkness she had just existed in, Maka's new surroundings were very white.

She was dizzy and her mouth was dry. Someone was clutching her upper arm too tightly; their hand was extremely hot on her sensitive skin. Objects kept swimming around in her vision; a mottled black something here, a wave of white there, a pale blue wall towered over her on one side, she later made it out to be a privacy curtain. Two bright red things where quite suddenly directly in front of her, blocking out the odd shapes that swam around.

Maka let out a groan of discomfort. Damn, did her head hurt.

"Soul, your'e smushing me," she complained, turning away from his face which was claustrophobicly close. As he moved back, the air around her cooled a bit and she took a deep breath, noting that she felt oddly winded. After she was certain that her body had enough oxygen, she turned to her partner and gave him a week smile. The worry in his eyes was painful to look at though. So was the sling on his left arm.

"Maka, are you alright? Was it a bad dream? Can I get you anything?" With each question Soul inched a bit closer and Maka couldn't help but smile, headache and thirst temporarily forgotten. Instead she reached up and wrapped her arm around Soul's right side, mindful to not touch his left. He stiffened for a moment, then melted into her embrace and hugged her back. Her free hand slid between them and found his left, their pinky fingers found one another and locked nice and tight.

She pulled back and he helped her sink into the soft pillow of her bed. Soul looked far calmer than he had moments before; there was only slight concern in his eyes now instead of the almost-panic that had been there before. (Soul was too cool to actually panic; thus, almost.) They sat in silence for a moment as Maka studied her surroundings, which were actually quite familiar, as she and Soul and many of their other friends took frequent trips to the place. Normally though, she wasn't the one on the bed but the one next to the bed, teasing the unlucky patient about their loss in yet another pointless duel or bringing junk food and flowers and a wide assortment of notes and pointless time-killers to someone who wound up in too sticky of a situation... yeah, the infirmary was the first familiar setting she had seen in a while. It was a comforting sight, surprisingly.

"Maka," Soul started, getting her attention. "really, are you okay?"

She nodded, only to cringe slightly from the movement; her head was killing her, as was her throat.

"A bit thirsty..." her voice was rough as sandpaper and it killed her throat to talk. She made a face, though Soul didn't see it; he was already up and getting her a small paper cup filled with water. She gratefully took it from him and downed the whole thing in one go. Odd, she felt like she was experiencing déjà vu. Oh yeah, this had happened not all that long ago...

"Hey Soul?"

"Hm?"

"How long have I been asleep?" He looked over at her, taking his burgundy gaze away from the bleeding moon.

"Three weeks," he stated. Maka's eyes widened.

"Three...?"

"Yeah." How could she have been asleep for that long?

"I...I missed so much school," she gasped softly, horrified. That hadn't been part of the plan at all. She would have so much catching up to do... Soul looked incredulous.

"You've practically been in a coma for three weeks, Maka!" He shouted, surprising her. "Does that not even matter? I was so fucking worried." He walked back over to the bed and loomed over her, hurt and anger in his eyes. "I didn't know if you would wake up."

"Soul..." Maka sat up, trying to get out of bed, only to find her left leg wouldn't move. That was right; it had been broken it in that fight.

"If I hadn't changed when I did, things might have been different," he continued, staring at her hand, which clutched the bedsheets. "I fucked up and you could have died." Maka shook her head and gave him a sad smile.

"We were in over our heads; I don't think it would have made a difference," she told him, watching as his eyes widened. "The only reason I'm alive is because of Fullmetal. The only reason you're alive is because you were unconscious; because that thing threw you when it did and because you were half-transformed. We lucked out." She laughed shakily, the weight of the situation suddenly hit like a freight train; they almost died. Soul looked shocked. He plopped down on the side of the bed, staring at her.

"Seriously?" Maka nodded sadly. "What the hell did that scythe do to you?"

"He saved me," Maka stated. "We resonated and he sort of...took over my body? I guess?" Soul looked confused, if not a bit horrified. "N-not in a bad way, or anything. He just used me to fight! All I had to do was hang on." She waved her hands quickly, trying to find a better way to describe the situation.

"Saved you? What about your leg? That scythe's chains were wrapped around it. Looks more like it tried and succeeded in snapping your leg practically in two."

"The monster did that; Fullmetal used the chains to keep my leg steady while we fought," she blinked thoughtfully. "He turned into armor and held me up. He didn't hurt me, I promise."

"That's...really messed up," Soul said, shaking his head. "But it sounds like if he hadn't helped out, we would have died, huh?" Maka nodded.

"Well, I definitely would have. Like I said, if you hadn't been chucked, we'd both be dead," she smiled encouragingly. The whole situation was fucked up, as was her logic, but it was true and she was thankful it happened that way. Soul heaved a sigh and chuckled weakly, returning her smile with a small one of his own.

"Shit," he breathed. "I got an ulcer for nothing."

"I'm sorry, Soul," Maka said, reaching forward to touch his shoulder lightly, wincing at his sling. "I wish I had woken up sooner."

"Yeah, you have a crap ton of notes to catch up on, Miss Bookworm," Soul swatted her hand away playfully. "You and your damned grades." Maka laughed. It was absurd, wasn't it?

"Well, obviously I'm not going anywhere any time soon; I've got time to catch up. I suppose I'll borrow Tsubaki's notes, unless you actually decided to not slack off for a change."

"Nope." Soul said, rolling his eyes. She had figured as much. Either way, Tsubaki's handwriting was easier to read than Soul's, so it was no real loss. The next several minutes were spent with Soul filling in Maka on all the happenings around the school until they were interrupted. Nygus was surprised at first, then was all business. She had come and gone quickly, giving Maka a swift once-over before seeming satisfied. She told them to stay put, then left in a breeze of icy blue eyes and pristine white bandages.

"What's going on?" Maka asked as the school nurse swept out of the room. Soul shook his head, sighing.

"Nothing spectacular, if you ask me," he replied. "Apparently Fullmetal's making a ruckus." Maka lurched, surprise and excitement on her face.

"He's awake?" she asked, squirming to get out of bed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"- a dumb question, really -"Where's he being kept? We need to go up there and help him, Soul!" She had to grab her casted leg to move it over the edge of the bed. "I'm going to need crutches. Soul, do you see crutches anywhere?"

"...No."

"Soul I need help. So does Fullmetal." She gave him a defiant glare. He heaved a sigh.

"I really do not trust that weapon, Maka," he groaned with resignation; she would get to Fullmetal with or without his help. Maka watched impatiently as her partner ambled into the nurse's office and come out moments later with a pair of crutches. She lit up and reached for them.

"Thank you, Soul!" Maka beamed. He just shook his head and helped her stand.

"It's in the Death Room," he informed her. She nodded, concentrating more on staying steady on her feet; Soul would take her to where they she needed to be. He was reluctant, but he was also loyal. The ice to her fire. Her weapon, her tool, her partner. It had obviously been a hard three weeks alone for Soul; she was relieved that he was helping so readily, despite his distrust toward Fullmetal. She hoped he would understand soon, though she was glad he trusted her judgement.

"Thank you, Soul." Their eyes met once she was situated with the crutches. He just smirked and shook his head.

"You're too bull-headed for me to stop anyway," he said. In any other situation, Maka might have given him a good jab with her new crutches, but for now, they had places to be, and she didn't doubt that she'd get another chance later on.

It took Maka a while to figure out the crutches, but once she had the hang of them, the duo went on the move. They reached the Death Room almost as quickly as usual, with only a few small mishaps along the way.

The two stumbled into the Death Room, Maka demanding to see Fullmetal while Soul panted at her side; she had sped up considerably when they reached the guillotine hallway. Maka's demands wehre ignored, however, when her father shrieked her name and promptly latched himself to her side, sobbing and apologizing and laughing with a panicked relief and generally being her annoying and far too doting Papa. She patted his head, which was buried into her side, arms wound tight around her waist, and gave his shoulder a tentative rub.

"I'm fine, Papa," she said gently, trying to smile but mostly grimacing. "Really, I'm okay, you can let go of me now."

"Ma-ma-maahh-ma-maah-MAAA-WAHHAHAHHH!" he broke down into more hysterical sobs and clung tighter. Maka heaved an irritable sigh and looked around the room, realizing that her father was not going anywhere any time soon.

"Hey there, Maka," Stein said when her eyes fell on him. "Welcome back." Marie stood with him, smiling from ear to ear and looking beyond relieved. She waved, but didn't say anything. Nygus rose an eyebrow at her and Soul, who had not stayed put as she instructed, but a smile shown in her eyes nonetheless. Sid, who was standing next to Nygus, gave her a nod. When her eyes found Death, he only gave her a wink and pointed to the center of the Death Room.

There he was; the Death Scythe that started this entire fiasco. Fullmetal lay in the center of the room, chains spread out around him haphazardly. Maka took a few steps forward, not minding her father or Soul, who was hovering close with uncertainty. Fullmetal's chains shifted around slowly, like coiled snakes, clinking softly while the weapon's entire form seemed to vibrate. The air around him thrummed.

"Maka," her father said, making her look down to where his face was buried in her side. He looked up at her seriously. "That weapon is too dangerous, stay away." Maka shook her head, reaching to remove his arms from her person.

"Sorry Papa, but I need to help him," she said, looking over to the weapon. Spirit looked a bit hurt, but said nothing as he let his arms fall, surprising her. Death gave Maka an approving nod and beckoned toward Fullmetal.

"What do you think, Scythe Meister Maka?" Death asked, pointing to the weapon.

"Um, well, we spoke, not long ago, I guess." Maka started with some confusion; who knew when they had their little dream conversation, anyway? "We were capable of resonating, despite the spell that's been put on him. He kept me and Soul safe and now he needs our help."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Maka blinked, wasn't Lord Death supposed to give orders and know what to do? Why ask a student?

"I wanted to try resonating with him again," she said. "Maybe I could break the seal from the inside." Death nodded approvingly.

"Good choice, Maka! You're a clever girl." Maka blushed and nodded.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, smiling. She hesitated then, not sure if she was supposed to resonate with Fullmetal right then or not.

"What are you waiting for?" Death asked, curious when she didn't move. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to do something.

"Ah, didn't you want to resonate with him, Lord Death? He is your weapon..." she trailed off and blinked in surprise when Death laughed.

"Nope! It's all you, dear! I doubt that stubborn boy would listen to me anyway," Death waved his oversized hands around animatedly before shrugging. Maka nodded and swallowed. This went beyond the simple recognition of souls, she realized. There was no other reason for Death to not be the one to resonate with Fullmetal.

Why her, though?

She stepped forward, maneuvering her crutches so that they wouldn't bother the chains, which shifted away from her uneasily. She let go of one of the crutches, letting it fall, and moved down onto her knees in front of Fullmetal. She put the other crutch with the first and scooted up so that she could reach out and touch the weapon's handle. The other meisters and weapons moved closer to watch.

"Um, hi," Maka said to the weapon. A blush rose to her cheeks when the majority of the room's occupants shifted ever closer, watching intently. Only then did she realize that she was in her favorite pink pajamas. "Hey, Fullmetal? You awake?" She reached out over the weapon, noting that the air around him seemed to drop by several degrees. The space between her hand and Fullmetal's handle glowed an unhealthy yellow. Small yellow-green sparks jumped up at her hand, making her feel uneasy.

"Fullmetal...?" Maka ventured out with her hand, placing her fingers lightly on the handle. She gasped in surprise and pulled away quickly; it was so cold it stung. "What's going on with you?"

"What's wrong, Maka?" Soul asked, sitting down next to her. She thought for a moment, wondering what had caused the the weapon to change so dramatically. Something was wrong. She pushed out with her soul, searching for the link they had before, but it was to no avail. She got nothing but static and droning.

Static and droning.

The hex.

"Soul, could you change to your weapon form?" She asked, looking up at him. "I need to try something."

"You're going to do try to connect to him through Soul?" Stein asked, eyebrows raising. It was the same tactic she used to get to Chrona. While it could work, the results could be disastrous. If that hex had corrupted Fullmetal, Maka wasn't sure what would happen to her.

"Yeah; I don't think a regular resonance will work this time. I'll need a bit of assistance." She held out her hand and looked at Soul. He would be her safety line, just as he was before. Soul nodded and took her hand, transforming as he did so. She settled her weapon across her lap, holding him loosely in her left hand. She felt the familiar dip of insanity that sprinkled their resonance and, this time, instead of ignoring it, she dove in. Soul's piano roared through her soul and her perception was magnified ten-fold.

Maka grabbed Fullmetal.

First it burned, then it was cold, then her hand went numb. Her eyes slid closed and her leg, aching and casted, went numb. When she opened her eyes again, she was in that dark void from her dreams. The hex was looming over her when she turned around in the now icy blackness, pounding and vibrating and glowing for all it was worth. She cringed at its light, then scowled; it had grown to be about twice its original size.

"Do you see it, Soul?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's huge."

"I think it's hurting him."

"How?"

"I don't know, but his reaction to my touching him was different than before. Normally souls act the same when they react with a soul for the second time. He was hot to the touch and his aura was blue the first time. Now he's really cold and his aura was that weird yellow color."

"What do we do?" Soul questioned, his reflection formed on the blade of his scythe form, which she had brought with her into the void, somehow. She looked at him and smiled darkly.

"We destroy that stupid hex."

"Heh, I could have seen that one coming." He smirked back as his reflection disappeared. Maka shifted into a fighting stance and swung Soul backwards, propelling herself forward toward the sign. She growled and let a battle cry ring through the atmosphere as she landed a furious blow on the hex, leaving an ugly scar in its wake. She slashed at it again and again, determined to destroy the thing that was hurting her friend.

Well, he wasn't really a friend yet; he'd saved her life once and they'd had but one conversation. She didn't even know his real name, come to think of it.

But then, they had experienced each other's souls, he did save her life, and he knew her name. They'd had a (short, maybe rather irksome and impersonal) conversation, but it was in a dream, no less, and faced some wild odds. Maybe they didn't know much about each other, maybe Fullmetal didn't even care about her, but they were connected. It was enough for her.

She hammered on.

They tried all they could think of. Soul Resonance, Witch Hunt, her anti-demon wavelength... Each hit left a new scar; each hit left the pair a bit more drained than before.

She didn't know how long it had been, but eventually their energy began to wane. Maka floated backwards, panting, sweating, and surveyed her damage. Long streaks of ruined metal peeled from the scrapes and scars that Soul's blade created. There was a solid dent, but it wasn't enough. The sign droned endlessly, rattling noisily, like an angry warning growl. Her ears were ringing again.

"Soul," Maka panted, "There's not a whole lot of time left." She glared up at the hex, which seemed to totter and flicker.

"What do you mean?" Soul asked.

"I think it knows we're here," Maka said, "and the only reason it hasn't gotten rid of us yet is because we've been attacking it." It was just a sign; it probably couldn't get rid of them and keep its guard up at the same time. Unless it was performing another, more strenuous job...

Maka had been wondering why Fullmetal was so quiet; the last time she made a ruckus he had snapped at her, hadn't he?

"We need to move," she said darkly. "Lets try Witch Hunt, one more time." Soul sensed the shift in her mood and hummed in agreement, blade sparking with the life of his soul.

Maka could feel him, feel their combined power coursing through her. Energy snapped and crackled around them wildly, a forcefield made of the essence of their souls lept out from Maka's form. There was a sort of beauty to it, and Maka tended to wonder if this feeling was what Soul felt when he ate a Kishin egg. He had said it wasn't the flavor, but the feeling. Her soul vibrated madly within her, rubbing against Soul's to milk as much power from him as possible. Her whole body tingled and she swore she could feel the particles in the air caress her skin. Soul's blade grew in her hands, a silvery-blue sheen swept over it as it elongated and arched. The whole blade was wrapped like a present in ethereal light; the gift itself was the pure, untamable energy of their souls. This one would do it, she was positive.

The blade pulled back over her head and swept forward, cutting the air and darkness and the hex and leaving nothing but light in its path.

The force of the blade hitting the hex jarred Maka's arms, tore at her shoulders and made her hands burn, but she forced the blade further down into the hex's center. She barely noticed her own screaming, hardly registered Soul's roars that seemed to harmonize with her's. All she could feel was her weapon in her hands, the fire lacing through her body, and the hex that would not give out.

Along with not hearing their battle cries, Maka also barely caught the sound of the metal sign giving way; it was a hushed, almost pained creaking sound that the material made as it bent under the force of their souls. There were soft snaps, barely audible over the droning and desperate rattling of the sign, that were made by the little fissures taking formation from the force of Soul's blade, which was sunk halfway into the monstrous sign, slowly cutting down towards the bottom. More light lept from each new crack, blinding Maka, who found her eyes glued to the dented, bullied hex.

They were close.

They were so damn close.

She had lost her mobility, and she realized it too late. Her throat closed and she choked violently on her on screams. She finally registered Soul's cries, now that they were absent.

Problem was, the stupid fucking hex just put itself into a deadlock. Even if she could move, she didn't have any intention of doing so.

It was just a bit further.

Come on, Soul! Just a bit more...

His soul thrummed with her's. Witch Hunt still drove wild, furious sparks into the hex. They weren't giving up.

Just a few more seconds.

But she craved air; she craved to move her body and stretch and arch her back and work the fire out of her viens. Soul's handle burned her hands and Witch Hunt blinded her further. She could sense it though, the damned hex was going to fall.

And it did.

It crackled and convulsed, seizing madly as Soul sliced it in half, propelled by the stored energy they had created in their temporary impasse. Light poured like waterfalls from the cracks as it split, then it shown with the same, warm golden light from before.

It shattered into a million and one pieces, each one shimmered and reflected the deep golden hues and sent them bouncing into the receding darkness.

Maka extended her soul, looking for the oppressed soul of Fullmetal's. He was free to come out now, after all.

It didn't take much to find him. She felt the familiar power wash over her and expand, making her feel lightheaded and thick as lead all at once. There was a mad crackling and whooshing from far away into the darkness, deep down in its core.

Maka's soul stretched out, searching, welcoming. The power pulsed around her, once, twice, then it was gone.

...What?

Maka blinked and everyone in the Death Room crowded around her. Soul was cradled in her lap. Fullmetal was in her hand; cool and unresponsive, just as they had first found him.

"F-fullmetal?" she stuttered, giving the weapon a gentle shake. The chains had stopped moving, she realized, and was she surprised to find that they were coiled around her, slithering up her arms and draping around her neck like necklaces. One had found its way around her broken leg and wound around her cast.

He knew.

He knew. And he had been supporting her. Again.

Where the fuck was he?

"Fullmetal, wake up!" she let Soul fall from her lap and grabbed Fullmetal with both hands, shaking him violently. Soul transformed next to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"That can't be it. It can't be," Maka whispered. She looked around the room at the other meisters, at Death, desperate for an answer. "We broke it. It's gone! That spell is gone now! So why...?" Her leg ached. So did her head.

"In due time, Maka," Death said. "It's a struggle for him, too."

"So you think he'll be able to change soon?" It was disappointing - no, it completely frustrating. Death nodded encouragingly and Maka felt her face form a very nasty sneer. "You ASSHOLE." she snarled at Fullmetal, making everyone jump. He did nothing in return, just sat in her palms and reflected her furious face back at her. Oh, what a waste of time the entire endeavor was. She missed three weeks of school, of her time that she could have been spending with her friends, of her life, unconscious in a hospital bed waiting for his comatose soul to stir so she could wake herself, only to be shot down, snuffed, dropped into a dumpster like yesterday's trash. Maka reached for her crutches and staggered to her feet. Soul and Spirit were both hovering nearby.

"C'mon Soul," she said, not looking his way. "I want to go home." She heard his feet (bare feet, strangely) follow her slow gait out of the Death room, through the Guillotine hallway and into the corridor. He didn't say anything the entire time, but she was okay with that; she needed some time to seethe and stew in her own personal pot of anger.

"Maka," Soul started after a while, when they were nearing the infirmary.

"What," Maka snapped. She heard him sigh.

"I didn't bring my bike and it's late. Why don't we stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Soul, I am very sure," Maka ground out.

"Yeah, alright, lets go home."

Damn straight they were going home.

Fuck Fullmetal.

Fuck school.

Fuck her leg.

Maka hadn't had a hot meal in three weeks, apparently, and she decided that some reheated left overs and a good book were what she needed to remedy her rage.

It wasn't until the next morning that Maka decided that maybe going home barefooted in her pajamas in the middle of the night wasn't such a good idea.

Fuck blisters.

Fuck colds.

Fuck Fullmetal.

Soul agreed wholeheartedly.

Wow, that ended on a sour note.

Also, I lied. Oops.

~Maddy