Welcome to the end of another one of my SoMa fics. If you find yourself wanting more, I have so many more to choose from, so please take a look. This chapter comes with some trigger warnings again for discussions of suicide.

"Soul Evans!"

Add the 'fucking' to the middle and it would have been Black Star but Soul found himself quizzically staring at the doorway to the hallway because it had to have been Maka's voice. A peeved Maka voice. "Maka?" he questioned weakly towards the still empty doorway.

"Will you come here and help me, please?" Even less patience dripped off of that comment and Soul felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

"Sure…" He moved slowly into the hallway, seeing her at the doorway with what seemed an infinite number of bags. "What…?"

She dropped the last of the bags on the floor, her eyes narrowing at him. "It was your birthday," Maka hissed.

"Oh…" Soul smiled tentatively as he tried to wave the comment off. "Yeah, sure, while you were at the hospital, but it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" It was a borderline shriek. "You should have told me!"

"Kind of didn't make the top of my list of worries," he shrugged before taking another step closer, trying to grab at one of her hands and finding himself barely successful, just getting a finger or two. "To be honest, I haven't celebrated that in a couple of years. Black Star doesn't even-"

"Not the point," she sighed before giving in and letting him take her whole hand. "I'm making you a cake."

Soul took a look at the arrangement of bags, some with groceries poking out and others with pans before letting a laugh tumble off his lips. "OK. I'm definitely not helping, or I can't if you actually want it to taste any good."

Maka huffed out a sigh, "You can watch, but you're going to tell me all the things you want for your birthday while I make it."

"Told you-" but the glare on her face slashed the words right off his tongue. Soul busied himself instead with picking up some of the bags and moving them into the kitchen. He picked a bit of counter space on the end, far away from the oven, and sat on the edge. "How'd you find out anyway?"

"Serena." It was a healthy hybrid of sigh and huff that escaped her mouth as she started to unbag and arrange her cache on the counter.

"My mom?" Soul blinked as he let the words fall in a slow confusion from his lips. "You were talking to my mom?"

He watched her shoulder blades raise and dip innocently. "She left her number at the end of the letter she sent so I called her to thank her."

"Yesterday?" Before the pizza, park, and crepes and admission that I wanted to get undressed or after? Because please tell me she didn't wheedle information out about that, too.

"No, while I was still at the hospital." Maka's words were a little less focused, her eyes more intent on the cake mix box. "But she texts me every now and then."

Texts you! His mind was screaming as his hands itched to get a scroll through those conversations, to see what Serena was hatching. "And one of those texts included my birthday?"

Maka paused to fish her phone out of her purse, scrolling through the message trail before turning the screen to him. "She sent me a picture, you and Black Star when you were five years old at your birthday party. You can scroll and read the rest."

Soul flicked his thumb once, seeing the dreaded question of 'when's his birthday?' plus too many question marks to count followed by walls of text on each side. He didn't settle down to read what he knew to probably be a dissertation on his guarded nature and simply let her phone down on the counter. "Sorry."

"I just…" She paused to pour more ingredients in the bowl before turning to him. "I want to know everything, Soul. Even the insignificant stuff because you matter. All of it matters to me."

"Height? Weight?" he smirked even through her exasperated eye roll. "But, sure, Maka. Whatever you want, you just have to give me some time. It's not like I've planned out my autobiography or anything."

"Start with the boy in that picture," Maka murmured as she turned her head back to the task at hand.

Soul took another glimpse at the screen, trying to piece together who that was before stitching together histories from foggy memories. While she continued to mix, he started to spill. Soul had a brief reprieve as she started the hand mixer, something he had no idea he actually owned until she pulled it from the depths of one of the lower cabinets that was probably another Serena purchase that he hadn't paid attention to. As Maka poured the batter into round pans, he found himself picking up where he left off, stories of Black Star and Liz getting him into trouble as he rounded into middle school.

"From what I heard it wasn't always them getting you into trouble," Maka shot a grin over her shoulder as he finished another tale that ended them in the principal's office.

"I may have started one or two fights," Soul shrugged innocently. Maka opened her mouth and shut it again, only catching air rather than releasing words. He watched her do it again before he popped off of the counter to rest a soft hand on her arm. "Say it."

She looked at him, a sigh breaking between them. "Was Wes like that?" She watched as the whites showed more in his eyes and the fear that kept her quiet swelled again. "That was a stupid question. I shouldn't have asked, there was no reason-"

"It's OK." Soul broke her off not just with his words but his body as he moved behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, letting his chin dip to her shoulder. "I guess that's the one thing I'm even rustier talking about." He pressed his lips to the fabric of her shirt, taking in a long breath of her scent. "We looked a lot alike but he was always better with people. I'd snap, I'd fight, but Wes had infinite patience. I can't even remember a time he yelled at me and I gave him plenty of reason to. Even that night, when I was drunk, he didn't lecture or tell me how much trouble I was in. Just laughed that I'd 'feel it in the morning.'"

That last thought had snuck up on him, creeped out of his mouth without hesitation. In the back of his mind, he was strangely convinced it was her, that Maka teased this kind of stuff out of people and he definitely wasn't immune. "I miss him," Soul finished. It came not just with that ache of sadness but a note of finality, words he had never before let come out of his mouth, a wound finally lanced.

Maka patted the hands around her waist and he released her, allowing for her to bend and place the pans in the oven before setting the timer on the stove. When she turned back to him, Maka threw her arms around his neck, pulling him as tightly to her as she could manage. "Soul, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He let his fingers start to drift up and down her back. "Maybe… maybe it kind of feels good to talk about it. Or not good, but it feels like I can. Like maybe I should."

"Then keep talking," Maka murmured. "I'm listening."

She held him for a few more minutes, no actual talking being done except for with tender touches. As they released she began guiding him to the couch, bringing him back to what he called the 'bad day' position in his mind, his head resting so comfortably on her chest as she absently played with his hair. It was cramped, but the closeness was all he wanted as he started to let the lesser-known histories drip from his tongue. His brother's name finally didn't feel like a curse.

The timer rang and Maka forced him to stay pressed into the couch as she disappeared back to the kitchen. There had been a subtle drift of chocolate in the apartment but now it was hitting him in the face, causing a growling in his stomach that refused to be ignored. She appeared again, the start of a victorious smile on her lips. "Cake?" Soul sat up hopefully.

Maka shook her head, "It has to cool, then icing. Pick a movie, that should be enough time for it to cool down."

"I want to tell you one more story." His hands were reaching for her, grabbing as soon as she came in range and bringing her back to their position. It felt slightly different, this time his arm tight around her waist, keeping her anchored to him. "I'm not… I don't want you to be scared or worried, just… I don't know why but I feel like I can say it today, so I want to."

"Alright, Soul." The trembling in her voice infected the rest of her body until she felt his lips softly touch to her neck.

"You were the first person, besides doctors, that I said it to, that I said I tried to kill myself." His fingers clenched into her side, holding her steady. "That day was pretty normal, honestly. Mom… Mom was trying really hard, like usual. She even wanted to take the day off and be with me but I told her to leave. She didn't fight back and she went with Dad and I guess that was when I couldn't make that other voice shut up. I'd never, ever say this to her, but it was that last look she gave me before she went out the door, like I was breaking her heart being like this. That fed it until I couldn't take it anymore."

"I already had the cord. I'd hid it in the back of my closet for a few months. I threw all the clothes on the bed. I tied it around the dowel and…" Soul choked on the air, having to pause to swallow. "I honestly don't remember much else until Black Star opened the door. That's what you don't think about, you know? Who's going to find you and what that's going to do to them. He was the last one I expected and fuck do I regret it. I'd take it all back just to never see that look on his face when he put the pieces together. He was scared, he was angry, and the worst part is I could see the guilt like he actually did something to be guilty about."

Maka was frozen, suddenly imagining herself in Black Star's place. "Were you…?" How do you ask 'were you strangling, dying when he found you?'

"The dowel broke," the matter-of-factness to his voice chilled her. "But the rope was still around my neck. I couldn't take it off. Black Star did because he didn't want Mom to see it."

The hand that had been caressing through his hair was pulling him closer now as she turned her body so her other arm could sling around him. There wasn't a definitive place where she ended and he started, just crushed together on the couch.

"Maka, it's OK," he murmured. "I told you, it wasn't to scare you."

"It did," she whispered back quickly, hands somehow tightening on him.

"I'm not going to let it get like that again," Soul sighed against her neck. "Please, believe me. Sometimes it sucks and sometimes it's hard, but I want this life."

Maka let out a long, withering breath. "I love you."

There was no better salve than that and Soul felt his breath come back easily. He forced her grip to relax giving him enough space to tilt his chin up to bring their lips together. "I want you to try to promise me the same thing," he murmured. "I know it didn't get to that point for you, but…"

She didn't let his words trail off, quickly giving in to his request, "It's not going to get like that again, Soul. Not for either of us."

We're together, that's what makes it impossible. Maybe it's stupid, but that's what it feels like: together, me and her, we're invincible. His sigh was nothing more than relief, giving way to another long, slow kiss. It was to comfort but also to peel away the worry from her. Every touch tried to tell her, 'I'm here, I'm OK, don't worry' until she finally relaxed into him and let go of her stranglehold.

He eventually got free enough to put on a movie but found he was more interested in keeping up those soft touches than with the plot. Maka was half-heartedly watching, her attention flitting between the screen, him, and the occasion check to the cake in the kitchen. It was probably her fourth time in the kitchen and she had been gone so long that Soul found himself sitting up, fingers tapping on his knees. When she had said cake it had been cute, ultimately better than no cake, but he was sure still nothing that out of the ordinary.

As the seconds ticked by, Soul found an absurd little ball of excitement starting to grow in the pit of his stomach. By the time her footsteps were in the hall, he was literally on the edge of his seat, barely staying put on the couch. Maka turned the corner, her hand carefully shielding the tiny flame to keep it alight. The deep concentration on saving the candle kept her from seeing that quick blink of childish delight across Soul's face. He let it exist for only a second before covering it with a laugh. "Really, Maka?"

"It's not a birthday cake with a candle!" She fussed as she slowly sat the plate down on the coffee table. "And you better blow it out and make a wish. If you don't wish, you're in deep trouble." She sunk with a huff to the floor, patting the spot next to her.

"How are you going to know?" He teased as he dropped down to her level, smiling deviously as his eyes darted between her and the candle.

"I'll know," she prodded him. "Go ahead, blow."

Soul stole one kiss from her lips before turning them towards the candle, blowing softly so the flame sputtered out. He didn't really have to think about the wish all that much, the thought instantly coming to his mind as he watched the small tendril of smoke. I want her to stay with me forever.

Maka had been arguing on the phone for at least the last fifteen minutes as Soul lay on his back on the bed. It was day five of her being home, therapy all day as if she were in school, his apartment by three or four, and then home by eight sharp. That had been the plan today as well, but then Spirit called, of course throwing the wrench into the cogs.

"I'm not guilting you," Maka repeated as her feet stomped in the ditch she'd been running into the floor since the phone call started. "I'm just being honest, Papa. I'm not staying at the apartment by myself. If you're not going to be there, I'm staying with Soul."

He wanted to feel for her right now, he really did, but the excitement of the prospect of her staying made him want to throw the phone out the window and just tackle her into the bed. It wasn't even the touching game, either, it was the fact that it'd been weeks since she'd just slept next to him since he'd gotten the thrill of waking up tangled next to her. He even missed finding her hair magically shed on his nightshirt.

"Papa, that's absolutely absurd," she groaned, "and completely none of your business. I'm staying, and for my sanity, I'm turning off my phone. If you actually really need me, text Liz and she'll text Soul."

Oh, Liz'll love that. Soul glanced at his own phone, contemplating sending Liz a preemptive 'I'm sorry' text before tossing it as Maka dropped hers for her ear.

Maka followed through with her threat, turning off her phone as she turned to wave the lifeless brick of technology at him. "He's insane!"

"I guess meeting me didn't convince him I wasn't a serial murderer?" Soul offered with a grin.

"All he can think about is that I'll end up just like him with a baby before I'm twenty-five." Maka let out a long sigh as she dropped her phone on the desk.

"Getting pregnant requires having sex, so," Soul shrugged before his own words registered back in his mind. "Not that I'm saying, well, that it's a problem, I mean-" Oh, fucking brother.

Maka cut him off with a bright laugh before she moved to the bed in order to kneel next to him. "Maybe we should talk about that."

"Not getting pregnant?" he squeaked.

Maka snorted out a laugh, "And having sex."

"OK," Soul breathed out, finding no more air to actually perform that talk.

"Does your offer still stand?" Maka slowly laid down next to him, her finger tracing the line of his sternum.

"What offer?" Soul murmured as he intently watched her face. Like the million times before he was ready to see fear there, apprehension, but she seemed to be holding onto an amused joy.

"Well, you made two. That you want to make me…" a little of her boldness faltered, a laugh breaking off the last word. "And that you wanted to take off your pants. I was wondering if we could start with that one tonight since I'm staying and I'll have the time to enjoy it."

Enjoy it, he thought woozily. "Just my shorts?"

Maka nodded, her hand now resting on his chest. "Start there."

Soul took a deep breath, hating how he still felt like he had no choice but to bring his eyes to the ceiling. She's already seen your chest, that was fine, this will be fine, but his eyes still focused away from her as his hands grabbed at the waistband of his shorts. He slipped them down, bringing his knees up so he could get them off completely and throw them over the edge of the bed.

There wasn't a gasp, not even a smart comment like the first time. Instead, he felt her hand lift from his chest and land again right above his knee, trailing a line along the skin that had been hidden so long. Maka didn't even hesitate as she hit the line of his boxers, lifting the fabric as far as it would go. She repeated the action, this time instead of a finger her hand traced along the inside of his leg.

No matter the tumult his brain was in, his body was on fire, and, much to his chagrin, his boxers started to tent as that want for her touch overpowered everything else.

"So there is someplace I can touch to turn you on." Her voice was so sweetly filled with victory that he had to turn his head to look at her, to catch the delight twinkling in her eyes. That was the only thing shining there as she looked back towards his legs, making another sweep with her hand over the damaged skin.

"No one's touched me there in a while," he whispered back hoarsely.

"How long have you been hiding this?" Maka slowed the back and forth movement, taking time to trace one or two scars.

Soul pressed a hand to his eyes, trying to focus on her fingers against his skin and not his sudden urge to cry from a healthy mixture of self-hatred and embarrassment at the memory. "Kim's the last one. When it got bad enough, when she couldn't look at me with anything other than pity when I got naked, that's when I broke it off with her. Didn't let anyone touch me since."

Maka pressed her lips together, trying to gather the right words and finding the ones she had still not good enough, "Have you… not wanted to?"

"Wanting isn't the problem." His hand came down over hers, stopping the motion and bringing her eyes back to his. He searched again, trying to find that all too familiar look, the one that said his skin could only be sorrowful. Her eyes only looked questioning as her fingers tried to break free. "Why don't you hate it?" It was a frustrated growl especially as the want was still washing over him, calling for him to let her hand go.

"Because it's part of you," she murmured back.

With a defeated breath, he let her hand go, feeling as it instantly climbed back up his leg. Maka didn't stop at his boxers, letting her hand glide over the fabric, her hand rubbing along the length of him. A low groan broke from his lips as he let his hips tilt to press harder. The friction was a perfect sort of agony and she egged it on again as her hand trailed back down.

"Can you do me a favor?" Her lips were now right next to his ear as if there were others in the room to hear her secret.

The hazy tingle was almost shutting off his brain but he managed, "Anything."

"Can we try your first offer now? It'd be, well, kind of a first for me." Her laugh at the end was weak, breathy, and it broke him from his trance.

He was careful not to let his hand fall to her throat, just his fingers under her chin to tip her eyes back to his. "No one's ever…?"

"Faked a lot," Maka tried to smile. "Had a few by myself, but, no, sex was always about them, not to mention I couldn't really get out of my head enough to get into it. So I'd like to try."

"Yes," was the first gut reaction from his mouth and while his head told him it was stupid, the strengthening of the smile on her face made his lack of eloquence insignificant. "Then, can I ask you to move? To get undressed?"

"I have a certain position?" Maka blinked at him, that weak smile turning into a grin.

"Hell yeah," Soul smirked back before quickly forgetting himself as he sat up against the headboard. "Take it all off and then sit here," he motioned between his legs.

Maka paused her hands at the hem of her shirt. "Take yours off too."

"Whatever you want." There was no agonizing this time, no thought of what that fabric was uncovering, only her request as he threw his shirt off.

Maka joined him, ditching her shirt quickly but finding her hands hesitating at her waistband. It's Soul. It's him. You're safe. And it's going to feel good, I swear. It's going to be right. She pushed her underwear and her pants together to her ankles and kicked it the rest of the way off to the floor. Maka slid into position feeling odd as her back pressed against his chest. "Why like this?"

"I want both hands," he laughed against her neck. "Between the piano, the guitar, the tons of other musical instruments, I'll admit I'm pretty good with my hands."

"Was that a little bit of an ego?" Maka was about to giggle but his hands surprised her, drifting open across her stomach. She breathed in slowly as she rested her head back to bring them cheek to cheek. "Kim wasn't lying then?"

Soul pressed his smirk against her skin. "You let me know after." He was ready to push those hands up to her breasts but he paused, aiming to whisper in her ear. "This is me touching you, Maka. You can tell me to stop and I'll stop. You're in control. Please remember that I love you."

Maka put her hands over his just long enough to squeeze his fingers. "I know." Her hands moved to his legs, feeling up the side of his thighs.

He brought his hands to her chest, giving equal attention to each breast while he reminisced over their old practice as his thumbs traced her nipples. He was trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders as one hand slid down from her breast, resting on her stomach before slipping between her legs. For a second, he held his breath as his fingers pressed between her crease. Maka rewarded him with a short gasp, her toes flexing into the mattress.

She preempted him, her voice trembling out as a whisper. "Keep going."

He barely needed the encouragement as his fingers started slow circles over her clit. Regardless of the dreaminess of their relationship, Maka had tried to start this evening with a healthy amount of realism, almost sure that for her this might end up as a dead end. She hadn't expected the firmness of his touch and the tempting nips of his teeth at her neck, especially after all the gentle practice runs. Even though she couldn't look him in the eye, she could dip her head back and smell him, hear the loving whisper that he had started in her ear, touch the marred skin of his legs.

This was him, the man that she loved, and he was touching her in a way no man had bothered to before. Maka found her legs starting to tremble and a beautiful undulation rumbling below her stomach. She let out another sharp gasp for air, letting it devolve into a moan. His kisses trailed to her ear, biting gently at the earlobe before whispering, "Nod if you're OK."

Maka didn't hesitate, her head bobbing as she let out another trembling breath. Her hips were tensing, lifting towards Soul's fingers as he used his other hand to brace her to his chest. Those circles weren't slow and that wave wasn't building anymore but crashing, a euphoric tingle tracing out from her core. The sound from her throat was completely alien, a trembling groan that trickled weakly into a breathless sigh. Soul's fingers eased back to her middle, hugging her back to his chest as she panted through the end of the ebbing ecstasy.

"You did it," Maka murmured, a hand coming to her chest to feel her heart still thundering.

Soul let out a sigh of relief against her skin, his grip finally loosening. "Feels OK?"

"Ego well deserved," a breathless laugh tumbled from her lips. "I don't know if I can move to be honest."

"You don't have to," Soul chuckled. "Just relax."

"Nope," Maka shook her head slowly sliding closer to his shoulder so she could turn her head and come face to face with him. "I need one more favor."

"What is it?" Soul's smile was tentative even though hers only seemed to blossom.

"Let me make love to you," it was barely a whisper as her eyes locked with his.

"Maka, you just…" Just got out of the hospital, just saw my legs, just had a man touch you the right way for the first time. The words, the thoughts stopped behind a press of her finger to his lips.

"Truthful answer, Soul, one word, just yes or no, do you want to?" Maka let her hand fall back to her chest.

"Yes," he murmured.

Maka slid forward, giving his legs room. "Then take these off," she tapped at his boxers.

With a slow breath, Soul did as ordered, tossing them to the side. While he undressed, Maka reached over the edge of the bed, rummaging through her bag. That old feeling hit her, a sad Deja Vu, but she forced herself to look back at him, a nervous, worried Soul and feel deep down in her bones that this moment was completely different from all the others. This wasn't a vacant, temporary fill, this was going to be what she'd been looking for since the beginning.

Just as her fingers grasped the wrapping, his hand closed around her bicep, pulling her eyes back to him. "If it hurts or it scares you or-"

"I know," she smiled softly. "Can I be on top?"

Soul couldn't stop the gulp, the comical bob in his throat. "Whatever you want."

Maka ripped open the condom before taking hold of him and rolling the latex down his shaft. Soul breathed out slowly, even a mundane caress like that sending a tingling message through his nerves. She straddled him, hips up as she positioned him underneath her, his tip just playing at her opening. A soft sigh exited her mouth as she lowered her hips, trying to concentrate on the feeling of being full, trying to think of them as two pieces to a whole.

As if to prove that point, his lips pressed against hers as his arms wrapped around her. Soul made her stay there, unmoving, as his hands traveled her body, his mouth exploring hers like it was the first time. It was surreal to her, to be held there, for this act to be less about getting the job done and more about being intertwined, inseparable. When he finally allowed her a gap between their lips she smiled and whispered softly, "It's your turn." He didn't have a good reply in mind, especially as she started the movement of her hips.

Maka grabbed at the headboard for leverage, helping her to maintain a speed that brought a groan from his lips. Soul's hands moved to her hips, smoothing out the motion and urging her forward as his fingers pressed into her skin. He had brought himself forward, clutching at her with his face tilted up towards her neck. All he could do was let soft, disjointed thoughts flutter from his lips, a sweet list of everything he thought about her until an urgent moan broke though as his body hit its peak. His hands planted her against his hips as he sucked in air, the electricity just dissipating in his toes.

Once his air was back his lips were against hers, keeping her still long enough to remind her that this wasn't the past, this was her future, this was them.