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Prompt #6: Infirmary - It's not a great place to wake up alone in. They know all too well.

Words: 566


The first thing she sees is the white glare of bandages against tanned skin.

Maka despises the sight. They are stained with red splotches from the wounds that mar his skin. A masterpiece of mortality, and it sickens her every time she sees it.

But for Soul, she ignores it. She sets aside her revulsion and her discomfort and sits at his bedside, waiting for her weapon to wake again.

She knows what it's like to wake up alone in this cold place with bandages covering her limbs and splints holding her bones in place, terrified when she was unable to see her partner anywhere. The horror that she alone survived, that his wounds had been even worse than hers (because he tried to protect her again, the idiot), that Doctor Stein and Miss Nygus couldn't save him -

Where is he? Soul? SOUL? SOOOOUUUUUL!

Then he raced through the door like he had the entire Mass of Witches at his heels, his eyes as wide in terror as hers. He'd moved to her side and remained there as she calmed down, reassuring her that yes, he was fine, yes they got the soul, yes I'm fine, now shut up and go back to sleep, I'm not going anywhere.

Now, with Soul in traction and still unconscious from falling over fifteen stories, Maka holds his unbandaged hand in both of hers and ignores the bloodstained linens holding her partner's body together.

Instead, she looks at his messy white hair and begins plotting how to convince him to let her trim it.


The first thing he hears is the beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor.

Soul hates that sound. It's marking time like a macabre metronome, announcing the pace of Maka's beating heart as if each one could be her last. A morbid lullaby, and he can't stand it.

But for Maka, he tunes it out. He shoves his disgust and his horror away and sits beside her bed, patiently waiting for his meister to awaken.

He knows what it's like to wake up to that noise, wires stretching from the sticky circles tacked to his chest and feeding all his hiccups and heartbeats into the machines, panicking when he couldn't hear a matching heartbeat in the room at all. The terror that she hadn't survived, that he'd failed to protect her again (because she tried to keep him safe as well, the moron), that Doc Stein and Miss Nygus couldn't save her -

Where's Maka? Where is she? MAKA!

Then she'd come flying through the door as if fleeing from Asura himself, her face as pale in fright as his. She'd come to his bedside and stayed all night despite looking like hell herself, calming him down and assuring him that yes, she was all right, yes the kishin was dead, yes I'm staying here, now shut up or I'll Maka Chop you, I'm not going anywhere.

Now, with Maka hooked up to a breathing device and comatose from an attack on her very soul, Soul holds her limp hand in both of his and ignores the spiking green line that marks his partner's steady heartbeat.

Instead, he listens to her breathing and matches its tempo to the newest composition he's been writing for her.


Some hurt-comfort and slight angst. Enjoy!

And review! Do that too!