A/n Hi everyone! This is one-shot I may make into a multi-chapter in the future, though if so it'd be a while as I'm focusing on other writing pieces. Before you read, there is a warning for implied sexual assault. I also apologize if the characters seem OOC, I'm recently getting back into Soul Eater but I came up with this idea and wrote it pretty quick. Criticism is welcome!

Stein was not one to usually indulge in the pleasures of liquor to the extent where he was slumped on the counter, a buzz prominent in his head. He wanted to drink enough so that his thoughts washed away to an endless sea of nothing. Spirit had left him for another meister, or rather his wife. It wasn't that Stein wasn't happy for his Spirit, perhaps that meister will be able to refine Spirit into what Stein never could: a Death Scythe. It was simply the sting of being left, a feeling he would never admit out loud, that ached his heart. It was such a foreign entity. Plaguing his mind with sentiments he recognized as jealousy. It was for that reason his goal of tonight was to get wasted and forget Spirit until he was able to sort out the mess within his own head. Stein considered performing a biopsy or simply ripping himself open to study the anomaly he was faced with, yet he knew it would be fruitless for the problem was with the neurons firing within the tissue, the problematic emotions firing within his brain.

A clink dragged his attention forward and he caught the retreating arm of the bartender. Stein rumbled, addressing the drink they'd just placed which he hadn't ordered, "What is this?"

The bartender paused, jerking their head across the dimly lit room where a shadowed figure sat across the bar. Despite the poor lighting, Stein was able to discern it was a female. Her long hair cascaded over a shoulder, and as she saw his eyes resting upon her she ran a sultry hand through it, her dark lips curving into a seductive smile.

Stein frowned and pushed the offering away. "Return it." The bartender's eyes lingered on him, then with a shrug, they did as told.

For the next moments Stein was able to drink in peace. Sipping on his liquor undisturbed amidst the quiet drone of chatter from other customers. His head drooped suddenly, his eyelids threatening to slide shut, yet he snapped upright as an arm wrapped around his shoulders and a warm and inviting voice whispered into an ear, "It's awfully crowded in here, isn't it?" He cocked his head sideways and scrutinized the unwelcome newcomer through narrowed eyes. It appeared it was the same woman who had bought him the drink. At the proximity she was, Stein was able to perceive that she bore cat-like features. Her face held sharp and clean-cut edges. Her eyes, so dark they appeared to be black holes bored into her skull, were framed by narrow and slanted lids.

Stein raised an absent hand and dragged it haphazardly through her pin-straight hair. He almost recoiled at the action, so unlike him, yet it was beginning to get even harder to think with a clear mind. The stranger flashed her teeth and mumbled something to him, though he didn't hear and simply nodded in agreement. Suddenly, he was pulled from his chair, the swirling lights mounted on the walls dizzed him and he grasped whoever was leading him for support.

The following events that occurred passed in a blur. Stein remembered nothing except a sickly, sweet, indiscernible scent which haunted his sleep.

When he awoke it was in a cold sweat. The familiar nastiness of a bad hangover hit him. An unrelenting headache barraged his skull and he wanted nothing more than to continue sleeping beneath the covers. And with a start he snapped up, wincing as nausea rolled into his throat. He forced it down for there were other matters to attend to, specifically, how did he get home? He observed the darkness of his bedroom with a calculating gaze. With no recollection of the previous night, the likely assumption was that he blacked out and somehow made his way into bed from a bar that was well away. Though, he felt something was off. A twisting knotted itself into his gut and he decided to drag himself out of bed to check the security feed.

Gradually, he maneuvered toward the monitors, only stopping to puke once. When he arrived he hastily clicked onto last night's footage, rewinding through the old recordings until he saw himself accompanied by a lanky woman. His heart thudded. Who was she? He leaned closer to the screen in an attempt to discern her features but the cover of the night and angle of her face hid her identity well. Stein swore under his breath, ire fueling him at the notion of a stranger in his home. He liked to assume the worst, a trait of his personality which helped in his line of work, and by assuming that the woman wasn't simply helping him home out of the kindness of her heart, there had to be an ulterior motive as to why she assisted him. His first stop would be the bar he went to last night, the name of it was the only thing his blackout had excluded from its memory loss.

Fighting down another urge to puke, Stein slid on his lab coat and hurried outside.

The Lyre Tavern was a small business located in an alleyway in Death City. For it being small and out of the way, it was one of those things that if you only knew about it if you knew beforehand. Therefore Stein had chosen the Lyre as his drinking place for it meant it wouldn't be over occupied with customers.

Stein opened the door to the Lyre and glanced around, noting that business was slow. Only a few customers dotted the tables this early in the morning that he had arrived. The bartender who was managing the tavern looked up upon his arrival and a crooked smile carved into his face. The man called out as if he and Stein were old pals, "Nice to see you back so soon!" With a knowing look, the man raised a brow and probed once Stein got closer, "So, how was your night last night?"

Stein's face fell flat for he didn't understand what the man meant. Shortly, he asked, "My night?"

The bartender faltered in cleaning a glass and he shared Stein's confusion. "Yeah your night, you left with someone and she was-"

"Wait." He cut off the main in an icy tone. "Who did I leave with? Tell me what happened exactly."

A look of fear crossed the bartender's face and he stuttered out, "A–A woman! She was really pretty alright! She bought you a drink but you wanted me to return it then she came over and you guys started talking and it looked like you hit it off because you left together."

A lump formed in Stein's throat. He did not recall any of that. To conceal the shock and disgust that was bubbling under his surface, he lashed out by swiping glasses off of the counter then slamming his fist on it. He demanded, "I want you to tell me exactly who that woman was, I want her name."

"I'm sorry but I can't–"

He growled lowly, reaching over the counter to grip the man by his collar and holding a piece of broken glass to his neck. Through steel-like eyes, he asked, "Can't what?"

"Stein?" A familiar voice called out.

Stein's hand went slack and he turned. Spirit stood hesitantly in the doorway, an unknown woman peering in cautiously behind him. Relief flooded him, at the appearance of someone he knew, especially if that someone was Spirit.

Stein set his face and nodded at the man in the doorway as he rapidly approached him. "Spirit."

Spirit's face was a torrent of emotions as he apologized to the bartender, then dragged Stein outside. The latter was made to wait as Spirit apologized to the girl and asked her to sit tight inside. Stein was well aware of the weapon's womanizing and lack of ability to fully commit, that was why when Spirit announced he was getting married, Stein was skeptical to say the least. The girl complained at the interruption though agreed to wait inside the tavern, then Spirit walked over to Stein.

"What was that about?" The weapon asked, peering at the meister through calculating eyes.

Stein's gaze slid toward Spirit, undecided if he should reveal the events that had transpired. Finally, he said, "It's nothing."

Spirit scoffed and kicked Stein in the shin. "Bullshit! You were about to kill the guy. Are you drunk?"

Wryly, Stein answered, "No, just really hungover."

For a rare occurrence, Spirit appeared thoughtful. "Alright. I'll just go and ask the bartender what's going on. Since you already scared him half to death I'm sure he'll tell me anything–"

"Wait!" Stein called out, the knot returning to twist within his chest. Spirit paused in midstep, inclining his head to show that he was listening. Resignedly, Stein continued, "Fine. I'll tell you." He began again once the cocky Spirit had turned around. "Last night I was drinking here," He gestured to the tavern. "I blacked out but apparently I left with a woman, and my cameras at my home show her coming inside." His lips curved deep into a frown at the retelling of it. "I don't recall anything. I think it's possible she was posing as a regular citizen, there are items of value in my home that could be dangerous if they were to have fallen in the hands of a witch concealing their presence," he took a breath as if to go on, but then noticed Spirit's countenance. Stein posed a questioning brow. "What?"

Spirit cast his eyes down and was seemingly struggling through his thought process. "Stein, you do know that with Lord Death protecting the city it's practically impossible for a witch to sneak in?"

When faced with the question he had to answer the obvious. "Yes."

"And that there are items way more valuable at the DWMA?"

"So what are you trying to–"

"What I'm trying to say is," Spirit laid an awkward hand on Stein's shoulder, his expression was twisted up, as if he was pensive though what he said didn't reflect whatever he was mulling over. "I think you guys probably just had sex."

Stein blinked blankly. He stated, "I don't remember it."

Spirit began to speak, though his mouth fell open and shut mutely. Haltingly, he tried again, "Stein, do you think it's possible—because you were blacked out—that the woman forced herself on you?"

The concept of sex having been forced on him without his consent had flown over his head. He looked at Spirit with bugged eyes and tried to muster a complete sentence, "No that's not — she would've come for the–" With a rough movement, he brushed Spirit's hand off his shoulder. "That didn't happen." His hands curled into fists at his sides. Fiercely, he attempted to remember the memories stolen by the liquor. It was either too jumbled for him to recall or it was an entirely blank slate in most parts.

"Spirit!" A shrill voice sang out. Stein and Spirit cocked their heads back, the tension sliced by the latter's current mistress. She peered out of the doorway of the Lyre, waving impatiently. Spirit waved a distracted hand in return and hastily turned back to Stein only to find him already walking away.

"Stein!" Spirit called out, jogging after him, his feet slapping against the cobblestone earth. Indescribable desperation had taken root within him as Spirit watched his friend's back grow incrementally smaller. He was worried about Stein if he left in this way. Spirit bounded toward the man until he was in range and stretched out his arm, his hand catching Stein's sleeve. "Wait–"

Stein jerked his arm away, roughly snapping Spirit's hand off of him. He spun toward Spirit and the look on his face caused the man to take a step back. It was recognizable as madness. With a thin smile, Stein said, "I'll see you later, Spirit. I think I'm going to go dissect something."

Subconsciously, Spirit touched his chest, reminiscent of the times when Stein had operated on him. He knew that in moments like this, it would be best to leave Stein be. Spirit raised a hand, offering a goodbye. "Alright, see you later."

Stein returned the wave and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one as he exited the alleyway.

Stein held more anger over anything. Anger that someone had the audacity to approach him, take advantage of him in that state, invade his home nonetheless. He wondered what type of person would do that. He wondered what they would look like under duress, or when he sliced them up slowly to reveal the inner workings of their brain keeping them awake to experience the pain and feel the blood trickle through their hair–

It was dark in his home.

He spun slowly in a chair, slouched heavily on it, his head upturned toward the shadowed ceiling as he puffed up clouds of smoke. He turned sluggishly, round and round and round, in endless circles. In his mind, he felt the strong presence of the madness which always remained dormant beneath his skin. It was like an itch. He could ignore it, though it would only become more aggravating and prominent if he didn't address it. Though once he gave into it, he was fearful of the outcome.

On a desk before him lay a screw, a rather large one. His lithe fingers traced its outline in the dark, producing wild ideas and blueprints with each pass over the threads. The madness would never stop. Though was it possible to hinder its progression?

He gripped the screw firmly, pushing his chair toward the doorway. The wheels tripped at the threshold and sent the chair flying and Stein with it. He collided roughly to the floor, though there was only a peal of giddy laughter in place of any pain. As he looked up, gazing into the darkened abyss, his eyes held a maddening glint.

He knew what he had to do.

Spirit stood outside Stein's home. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest and his foot tapped synchronously with the finger rapping on his elbow. He had been waiting for Stein to open the door for twenty minutes. He knew that the paranoid man had to have seen his approach from the multiple cameras placed around the premises, so what was taking so long?

In spite, he made faces at the one visible camera mounted above the door. The sun above seemingly laughed at the lack of response. With a sigh, Spirit admitted defeat. He decided he could return tomorrow, instead of waiting any longer he could spend his time with one of the new girls at the cafe. He'd taken a step away from the door when it creaked open, startling him.

Spirit exclaimed in surprise, flipping around, though his expression quickly fell when he saw the sight before him. Stein glared at the harsh sunlight, holding a hand to block its pounding rays. The man looked the same from when Spirit had seen him yesterday, except for the large screw embedded in his head. Spirit was no stranger to the man's self experimentations, though the sight of it was as if someone had punched him in the gut. Perhaps it was because of the way they parted, with Spirit feeling inadequate in comforting his friend and making sure he was alright. Because of his incompetence, did Stein do this to himself?

Spirit stated wide-eyed at the modification, only able to mutter, "Stein,"

Stein's narrowed eyes flickered up to the screw and Spirit watched with a horrified fascination as he turned it as if he was adjusting the dial on a radio, searching for that perfect frequency. When he was done, Stein faced Spirit, scrutinizing the man. He said, "What's up with you? Your wavelength is all off."

Spirit exclaimed, stuttering out a few words in disbelief, "M–My wavelength?! I'm–I'm completely fine—what the heck is in your head?" He threw a pointer to Stein's screw where the man dully shifted his gaze toward it.

"This? It's supposed to help control my madness. You know how I can get."

Spirit nodded in a partial understanding before his expression fell flat. "It wasn't because of yesterday?"

For a moment there was silence as Stein contemplated his answer. The wind suddenly picked up, howling hauntingly through small crevices and rustling dead leaves back to life. Stein rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes hidden by the glare on his glasses. He admitted, "In part, yes, but I knew it was a long time coming."

Another long silence brewed. Spirit broke it first, drawing in a deep breath and saying, "I'm sorry, for yesterday, if you needed to talk more and I wasn't–"

"Knock it off." Stein's flat voice cut through Spirit's. Stein rustled through his lab coat and retrieved a cigarette, then looked back to the confused Spirit. He answered the man's questioning look. "If I wanted your help, I would have asked." Spirit resisted the urge to laugh because his experiences with the man told him the opposite. Though he wasn't sure if he was glad to know if Stein implanting the screw was inevitable or not, in the end at least he wasn't an inadequate friend.

Spirit rested a hand on Stein's shoulder, a relieved smile creeping its way onto his face. "I'm glad you're alright, though you can talk with me whenever you need." His gaze lingered on Stein, and the man nodded as he took a drag, blowing the smoke away from the other.

"Alright. Now is that all you have to bother me with?" Stein adjusted his screw once more, wincing slightly. "I've got a bad headache."

With a nod, Spirit backed away. "I'll get out of your hair," His eyes lit up as he imagined his next destination. "I have a girl waiting for me at a lovely cafe!"

Stein sent Spirit a glare. He asked flatly, "Your wife?"

The latter froze, a nervous smile twisting up his face. "No, she's–"

Stein promptly turned away and began walking inside. "I don't want to hear any of your womanizing adventures. Goodbye."

"Stein!"