Chapter 20! How did this happen? Please enjoy more of our regular romantic drivel.


Serena had just about tucked the other children into bed. Oh, don't call them children, she reminded herself, but the evening seemed so close to that. All four had seemed fragile, clutching to old pastimes like watching movies, binging on snacks, but unlike their high school years, the volume seemed oddly subdued, only momentary whispers interrupting instead of raucous laughs. She also couldn't stop herself from creating stories about Maka's absence, watching her son closely but seeing nothing more than his usual quiet thoughtfulness.

He was the last one awake and she found him standing in the living room, eyes scanning the garden. "Darling, your father said he'd be home soon if you're, well, if you need him." She hesitated, especially as he turned and stared at her, his breath fluttering from his lips like he meant to speak.

Soul took a few more breaths to edit himself before letting the words tremble from his lips, "Mom, can I talk to you?"

"Yes, of course." Serena tried not to bite too hard at the bait, instead moving slowly to the couch to sit down, eyes and ears wide.

"How did you…?" He held onto the words, resorting them in his head. "Mom, how do you make that powerless feeling go away?" Soul resisted the urge to roll his eyes at himself, all of his careful arrangement of words blown to pieces. "I mean, when I was sick, you couldn't do a fucking thing, I wouldn't let you, so how did you get over that?"

"Oh, darling, you don't," Serena shook her head.

"What?" Soul blinked at her.

"You'll always blame yourself. It's natural. You always want to 'save' the ones you love and when you can't, even if it's because they themselves are standing in the way, the natural thing to do is to think it was your own fault." Serena sighed as she leaned back on the couch. "The best you can do is try not to dwell on it, even though I know that sounds impossible. I still struggle with it myself."

"But," he started and stopped, his lips pressing together.

"Soul," Serena cooed out his name, impossible for him not to hear that saturation of love. "You may feel powerless, it's normal, allowed, expected. But what you can do, what I know you are so deeply capable of, is continue to love because that's the power that you have. Maybe you can't force someone into healing, but you can love them and give them the safety to want to heal."

Soul's breath hitched in his throat, almost trapping the words. "Mom, do you love me?"

Serena sighed longingly, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"What?" He felt a strange stir of curiosity.

"Not exactly a secret, maybe a story," Serena's smile turned into a wisp of what it once was. "I suppose you could have figured it out on your own by now or heard it from your father's mother as she muttered it under her breath, but I was only nineteen when your brother was born, your father twenty-two."

"I never did the math," Soul answered breathlessly.

"And we certainly weren't married, which your father quickly fixed with an almost immediate elopement, much to your grandmother's chagrin." Serena broke for an amused laugh, still enjoying the huffing of her in-laws at a nobody singer marrying their precious only son, heir to the empire that was forever sullied by her wiles. "But when Wes was born, I was young, terrified. Regardless of the legal paperwork, I wasn't sure your father was ready to settle and I'd never exactly pictured myself as a mother."

"But I did well enough, your father grew into that role, and Wes thrived." Serena had to take a moment to recover from the idea, seeing her eldest in her mind's eye. "But you, Soul, you were the product of thought, planning, and I waited desperately every week for you. By the time you were born, I was so in love with you that I was sure I was going to burst. But that's when, well, I started to feel the guilt of it all." The words had turned to sawdust in her mouth and she had to pause, swallowing in an attempt to clear it.

"I saw it right away, my preference for you, the way I wasn't giving Wes his share. I tried to even it out, but I was never perfect with my balance, and I think I often tipped towards your brother. When he died," she had to clench her hands into the couch cushion as if that would steady her, "I did the worst imaginable. I neglected you because if I gave you all the love I had for you, I'd be forgetting your brother. It wasn't until you hurt yourself that I realized it. That your life, you meant the most to me in the world."

Serena took in a shaking breath. "So I suppose I should take my own advice to you. I love you so much, darling, more than I think you could ever realize, and that's here for you when you need it."

Soul tried to swallow the urge to cry. "I need it, Mom."

"Then you have it, Soul." Serena patted the couch next to her and Soul only hesitated for one breath before moving to her, offering no resistance as he sat and let her envelop him in her arms. "Maybe you should stay with us this week. I'll force your father to take some time off. Not to do anything in particular, but just to be here. Would that bother you?"

"No," Soul murmured as he let his head rest on her shoulder. It was always the same lemony scent to her hair that transported him back to the time when kissing boo-boos was still acceptable. "I'll stay for a while."

"As long as you'd like." Serena risked it, running her hand over his hair and finding no argument, just another soft sigh from him.

Soul slowly pulled away but stole her hands, keeping them in his. "Maka's in the hospital."

"What?" Serena blinked at him. "What happened?"

He bit his lip, trying to control the trembling before he breathed out. "It's like me, Mom."

"Oh, darling, she tried to…?" Serena still couldn't bring herself to let that phrase off her tongue.

"No," Soul shook his head slowly. "Just… I guess she needed more help than I could give her."

Serena let out a long huff of air. "Well, it's like I said, then, I suppose. Just save up your love, and as soon as she's allowed visitors, you'll make sure she gets it."


Soul had disappeared under the tree an hour ago. Serena had slipped a tray of offerings under the bower about thirty minutes in but didn't intrude, not that Soul would have minded the company. He was mostly just laying on his back, staring at the canopy and trying to count each one of the petals so his mind didn't stick to playing that mental video of their first kiss over and over. Maybe that was why he was really under here, trying to feel close to that again, trying to bring back the ghost of her touch.

His phone started to buzz and he turned on his side, ready for another check-in from Black Star or Liz but finding an unknown number. He contemplated letting it go but slid up to accept. "Hello?"

"Mr. Evans?" An unfamiliar voice to match the number.

"Yeah."

"I have Maka Albarn on the line, do you accept?"

"Yes," he blurted quickly, pressing the phone tighter to his ear as if that would ease the connection.

"One moment."

There was a series of clicks before her voice, so sweet and clear, rang in his ear. "Hello?"

"Maka," he breathed out weakly.

"This is so weird, I'm sorry," she murmured. "And I only have fifteen minutes and I hate talking on the phone and, ugh, this is so awkward."

He couldn't stop the dreamy smile, the short chuckle at her run-on. "I miss you."

Her sigh drifted through the phone like it was right next to his ear and he waited for the feeling of the breath. "That's all I wanted to hear. I miss you, too."

"Then give me your fifteen minutes and listen." Soul rolled onto his stomach and brought himself on his elbows, readying himself to deliver the speech he'd worked on since the first sleepless night.

On the other end of the line, Maka couldn't stop her stomach from shriveling. This is it, it's the break-up speech, the 'it's not you, it's me' but you know it's because of you because he knows. He knows you're-

"You're the most courageous person I know," splattered from his lips, the thoughts he'd been holding back the past couple of days finally winning the fight with his tongue.

Maka was sure that she must not know the meaning of the word, that somehow his dictionary must be completely different, turned on its head. "What?"

"If I went through that," he prodded at his own chest as if she could even see it. "I'd never let anyone touch me again. How you even managed to let me get close to you without punching me in the face a couple of times floors me."

"Oh," Maka found herself without words.

"The fact that you even stayed alone with me in the apartment, or that you kissed me. Maka, there's no way in hell." Soul took a long breath, waiting to hear an interjection and finding none. "Not to mention, I know you were alone. Your mom and dad weren't there like mine were. You didn't get Black Star and Liz until last year and I've had them my entire life. I had everything and I still couldn't keep shit together and you didn't even blink. You went to school, you worked, you got through every day. And when it overwhelmed you, you didn't do anything fucking stupid, just did what you had to do. That's fucking amazing."

Maka heaved trembling breath, trying to at least keep the evidence of her tears silent, away from him. "But I…"

His heart was thundering as if he was reliving their first time under the tree together. "You let me be with you when you've earned not trusting a single person in this world. So I'm fucking thankful you chose me. I want to keep our deal, I'm staying, and if you're thinking about apologizing to me, I don't want it. All I want is you to do what you have to do and then come back to me."

Maka laughed through the tears, "Maybe I can't apologize, but can I make it up to you?"

"No," Soul urged back. "It's going to be me making it up to you, making up for all of that shit you went through. I can't change it, and fuck do I wish I could have stopped it, but I know I can at least make what you have now better."

"You can make up for them," she hiccuped through a sob. "But I have some things I need to make up for, Soul. Please."

"OK," he murmured. "I know you will. I'm waiting for it. Just get better first."

She took another deep breath. "I have to go soon. The doctor said maybe two weeks, but… can you come and visit? It wouldn't have to be in the ward, there are these visiting rooms and-"

"I'm there," he didn't hold back the jumping joy in his voice. "I can be there tomorrow for lunch if that's OK."

"Tomorrow," she practically hummed out the word, letting it soak into her like the sunshine.


A nice woman in scrubs had sat him in a room decorated with inspirational posters, the asinine kind with cute animals and saccharine sayings, and overly stiff couches and chairs. He opted for what should have been an armchair but offered none of the comforts and started to arrange things around the wannabe coffee table. The woman returned. "Mr. Evans, I just need your ID and for you to sign before I bring her in."

"Sure." Soul stood up quickly, digging into his pocket for his wallet and retrieving her request. They traded, Soul offering the tiny square of plastic for her clipboard and pen. He signed and they swapped back, Soul jamming his hands in his pockets with his wallet.

"OK, just one minute," the woman chirped before exiting, leaving the door slightly ajar.

He looked back to his seat but nixed the idea, teetering from his toes to his heel as he counted the breaths until the door moved again. It was a different woman this time that stuck her head in, an amused smile gushing off her face. As she opened the door the rest of the way, she threw her head over her shoulder, "Now, you better behave, Maka. There are no chaperones it seems."

"Fifteen-second hugs only, I promise," Maka chimed back before finally appearing in the doorway, sucking all the air from Soul's mouth. Her fingers were instantly slipping past his sides, raking up the back of his t-shirt to press herself against his chest. "Start counting, Soul."

"One," he whispered hoarsely as he let his arms wrap around her shoulders.

"Be back later," the new woman said to no one in particular as she shut the door, leaving them in their own little world that the embrace had created.

"I don't have to keep counting, do I?" Soul wanted to laugh but he couldn't, air still feeling out of his reach now that Maka was in it.

"It's kind of a rule, but I guess there's no one to monitor, so…" She let her head fall against his shirt.

He gave into temptation, letting a hand glide into her hair which she had so graciously left down, giving him free rein to run his fingers through. "How do they know we're not going to do more than just hug? Or that I didn't bring a pound of cocaine in with me?"

"Cameras." Maka pointed to the upper right-hand corner of the room. "And they'll search me before I go back on the unit."

"You think they're watching those cameras and counting right now?" Soul chuckled.

Maka snorted out a laugh in reply, "Yes, and we're probably about to get busted."

"Then I'm going to earn my punishment," he murmured before using that hand in her hair as an anchor to tilt her head, getting her lips close enough that he could just brush them with his.

"When did you get to be such a bad boy?" she sighed wistfully as she slowly let her arms fall away from him, trying to at least respect something in the ballpark of fifteen seconds. "I'm glad you're here."

"Then you're going to be overjoyed when you see what I brought." He moved out of the way of the table, bringing her attention to the spread. "One thing I do remember about the hospital was the food sucked."

"Oh," she cooed as she rushed over to the table, stealing his chair as she leaned over the containers. "Thai! I know it's only been a week but I've been barely surviving on peanut butter and jelly."

"Thought so," Soul laughed before plopping down in the chair next to hers. "Dig in."

"You're not going to eat?" She eyed him as she started opening each container, displaying all her options.

"Still a little nervous," Soul sighed. "Maybe in a bit."

Maka's fingers froze in the act of grabbing a plate. "Nervous?"

"Well," Soul rubbed his palms along his pant legs, "Institutions don't always bring back the fondest memories…" He held out a hand to her, waiting until she took it. "But I'm probably about to say something stupid, so I'm kind of overthinking right now."

"What's stupid?" She asked back breathlessly.

"My mom said you can't fix people, that that's not how it works, that people have to fix themselves but that all you can do is love somebody, give them that and hopefully that gets them to the point where they feel strong enough to do it themselves." Soul was biting back a wince at his own rambling, of course not doing any of Serena's words justice.

"That doesn't sound stupid," Maka murmured.

He blew a quick huff of air through his lips. "That's because I didn't say the 'I love you' part."

"You love me?" Again all the air was gone from her lungs and she was afraid that those words hadn't actually come out of either of their mouths.

"I mean, I know it's ridiculous," his eyes darting to the floor, trying to follow the script he'd given himself. "We're eight months into a friendship and only a month into a relationship and I'm a fucking wreck and you're trying to keep it together and-"

"But that's what you feel?" Maka tugged on his hand, bringing his eyes up from the floor. "Ignore the time, the situation, just for a second, Soul, and tell me if that's what you really feel."

"Yeah, Maka," he let out a trembling exhale. "And I know I'm not always at my best, but that's what I can always give you, no matter what. It doesn't matter what happens, since I think, and fuck this is the strangest part, but I think I've loved you since you sat next to me that night. Since the first time I heard you laugh."

As if he wasn't reliving it enough, a small laugh trickled from her throat, pulling him further back into the memory. "That's not stupid, Soul, that's…" She squeezed his hand. "Even after what Liz said, what-"

Soul narrowed his eyebrows. "Did you think that story was going to make me-"

"Hate me," Maka groaned out. "Or at the very least be disgusted-"

"No!" His hand reached and touched her cheek, easing her forward so he could brush his lips feather-light over hers. "I felt a lot of things, but not that. Not that at all."

Maka let her hands grasp into his shirt to pull him back into that kiss, to leave it lingering on her lips instead of letting it disappear. Since none of this felt tangible, all of it like some kind of strange dream that at any second she could wake from. "Don't leave me."

"Wasn't planning on it," he murmured back. "But… is it just me? Do you…?"

"I kissed you, did I?" she laughed again, pushing his heart over the edge into bursting. "And your mom was right. That's why I came here because I already kind of knew that I had your love and I wasn't healthy enough for it."

"Maka, it's not about earning it," Soul sighed.

"No, I know." Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt since all the other words today seemed so easy, but the explanation she had promised she'd give today was still stuck behind her tongue. "But when we fought I had a terrible thought that," she choked, having to clear her throat to free it, "That if you left me I'd kill myself. That if I went to Liz's and things magically didn't fix themselves, I'd do it."

"I wasn't going to leave you," he felt that prickling of defense again.

"That's not the point," she shook her head slowly. "That way of thinking isn't fair. I wanted your love, but it shouldn't be like that. It shouldn't be a threat: love me or else. It shouldn't be something I feel desperate for, it's something I want to enjoy."

"You think you can enjoy it a little right now?" He brought his hands down, slowly unraveling her fingers from his shirt so he could hold them.

"I think I'm at about fifty-fifty," Maka managed a grin.

"Good," Soul grinned before bringing his hand up to brush through her hair again. "You should eat, then, while I show you the other stuff I brought."

"Soul," she tried to sound admonishing but the excitement bubbled right after it. "You only had to bring you."

He shrugged in reply, finally detaching from her to stand and grab the bag he'd left at the other end of the table. "Liz has gotten into this thing where she's writing you letters every day, so I have those." He put the pile of envelopes on the table, careful to avoid the food that he was happy to see she was finally starting on. Maka only paused a second from shoveling noodles onto her plate to glance at the stack.

"That looks like more than once a day," she laughed.

"Well, once she started, Tsubaki joined in, and then, well, my mom kind of wrote you one, too." Soul offered this last bit tentatively, his eyes coming to hers to gauge the reaction.

"Serena?" Maka blinked at him and then back at the stack. "That's so sweet, but… why?"

Soul's mind drifted back to his mother and the week so far, the absolute shower of love from her at every turn. "Because I love you, you're hurting, and I think that's enough for her."

Maka wished she had a mouthful at that moment, the hot and spicy of the Thai welcome relief from that bitter taste of tears that kept kicking up at the back of her throat. Instead she had to swallow at it again, stilling a hand from food prep to press against her mouth to bite it back.

Soul was too intent on the next thing in the back to witness her struggle as he started to stack the books on the table. "I went to your job and asked, uh… Andre, right?" He looked at her and she nodded before he continued. "Andre what you'd want to read. He said some new stuff came out you'd be interested in so I brought it. Didn't think to ask if you could have books though, just assumed you could."

"I can," she murmured before pressing the hand to her mouth again momentarily before letting the feeling settle. He loves you, all this is just love. It's not shameful, or hard to believe. "What made you think of that?"

Soul snorted, "You without a book for two weeks?"

"True," she let a dry laugh escape her lips. "My dad brought a couple, but it'll be nice to have something fresh."

He paused from his work, easing the lean in his back. "Yeah, your dad brought you here, didn't he?"

"He did," Maka smiled softly. "He made some good, solid promises about being here more and he's, well, been here. My mom's called, but she's in France right now, so…"

That tasted sour in Soul's mouth but he swallowed it down. "Well, if you need anything, tell me. I'll bring it."

"Thank you," she cooed. Maka leaned back in the chair in an effort to look calm for her next statement, making sure to chew through a mouthful or two of food before casually throwing out, "He kind of wanted to meet you, my dad that is." That was an understatement since it wasn't a want but an insistence as soon as she had scrawled Soul's name on the approved visitor/call list.

Soul eased back into the seat next to her, his heartbeat ramping back up after the calm of spoiling her. "Once you're home, sure." He reached out, trying to bring back the serenity of the previous moment by playing with her hair, pressing golden locks behind her ears.

Maka leaned her head into his hand as she continued with another mouthful. She nervously pressed her fork around while she chewed, knowing he was watching her. "What have you been up to?"

"Uh," Soul let out a tight laugh, "I've just been staying at home with my mom and dad."

Maka planted her fork, a dainty little 'oh' forming on her lips. "Home home?"

"Yeah." Soul let his fingers brush down her jaw. "Didn't exactly trust myself either, but it hasn't been half bad. Mom even talked Dad into working from home."

"Is he actually working?" Maka raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not," Soul laughed. "OK, not fair, he takes phone calls, but other than that, nothing."

Maka snorted a laugh before shoveling in another mouthful. Now she was returning the favor, studying his face as he tried to maintain focus on smoothing his fingers along her skin. "Has… stuff gotten better with them?"

"We're working on it," Soul sighed through a fading smile. "Just another one of those weird things that was all in my head, you know?"

She was thoughtfully chewing again, her finger pressed to her chin. Once her mouth cleared enough she smiled at him, "I don't know, Soul, maybe you're a little courageous, too."

"Nope," Soul shook his head firmly.

"Hey, hear me out," she griped before pointing her fork at him. "You totally had the opportunity to backslide. Not to sound full of myself, but you love me," this did stop her with a smile, soaking up the idea of the words again, "So you could have fallen right off the wagon, had that drink, but you specifically put yourself in a situation where you'd have a harder time caving. Have people around you to help you maintain."

"Well, landing myself in the hospital too would be stupid," he muttered.

"Says you, now, the Soul of almost a year post your last hospital stay. But what about the Soul from the day after the hospital? What would he have done?" Maka gave another thrust of her fork and Soul would swear he felt it, the sharp tines of her question jabbing at him.

'Lucio Fulci would have been proud of the gore' didn't exactly seem appropriate to say so Soul sighed instead as he let his hand rest on her shoulder. "OK, point made. Point kind of taken."

"Point totally correct and should be more than kind of taken," Maka muttered back with one last poke of her fork before using it again for its intended purpose.

Soul snorted a laugh as his finger twirled at a tendril of hair right off her shoulder.

After clearing most of her plate, Maka lowered it to her lap, dropping the fork before grasping at his hand. "Are you going to keep fussing with me or are you actually going to eat?"

"Fussing mostly," he murmured back as he leaned closer, allowing his other hand to break her grip so his fingers could go back to coiling her hair.

She feigned the annoyance for at least five more minutes until she gave in, eventually pulling him from the chairs to the couch, letting him play a much more PG-rated version of the practice. Maka had honestly envisioned this visit a million different ways, mostly all sour or somber and all of them signaling the slow and imminent decline of his love, something that she had barely allowed herself to imagine as a possibility in the first place. Instead, he had brought their little world into the room with him, the safe pieces of her life that she had only begun to build but he always solidified.