I'm sorry if I'm rushing this. I'm trying to give them their time apart, but I feel like I'm trying to push the dominoes to put that back together too soon. Let me know if you're not digging the pacing.

Soul was about to risk being pleasantly surprised to see Free's face first thing in the morning until the man's face tightened as he entered the room. "What is it?" his inquisitiveness was genuine considering Free had mostly fallen in line with life in the castle and showed very little disdain for any of it anymore.

"Your room smells strange." Free took a long whiff of the air before shaking his head. "Not right."

"Could be the wood or the paint," Soul pointed out each as Free took the steps closer to get a sniff of each.

"Not it," he muttered as he started to huff around the room, corners and crevices until he came full circle by the bed. "Here."

"The maids change the sheets," Soul offered playfully until Free furrowed his brow. With the seriousness on his face, Soul finally settled into thought and forced his eyes to roam around the room to jog his mind for the culprit. As his eyes fell on Free again, looking at his position, it hit him. "I, uh, saw something standing there last night."

"Something?" Free raised an eyebrow.

"Someone, I guess," Soul tried to shrug it off but it only made Free's forehead wrinkle further. "I think I dreamt it. It looked like a little girl, maybe like Maka, so I was probably just-"

"Doesn't smell like a dream," Free said uneasily. "Something was here."

"Or someone," Soul muttered up at him with a sigh. "Medusa?"

"Medusa's not a smell, she's too smart for that," Free shook his head solemnly. "She's a feeling, and that's only when she's around. It's a tingle on the back of your neck, the kind you get when you know there's a snake about to strike but it's camouflaged enough that you can't see it. She's just fear drifting in the air."

Soul smiled glumly, "Sounds great."

Free let out a snort of a laugh, "Come on, whatever it is, could be fun. Could be more interesting than you whittling away all day and night. Do neither of you sleep?"

There wasn't a way that amusement could settle into him from the idea that something was wandering around. That's not the kind of distraction I want. "Who else hasn't been sleeping?"

"Stein," Free offered as he lost interest, sticking his head out the window to take in the fresh air from the courtyard. "Let's do something today. Some kind of game. Maybe those trainees of yours need a real fight."

Soul shook his head with a sigh. No one needs a real fight.

Maka's eyes flicked with growing concern as she stood from the table when they entered. Spirit was disheveled, dust-covered while Black Star was holding onto a sickly grin.

"Time for my fucking favor," he chimed while the pack clunked to the table.

Her first instinct was to tease but after one more look over to her father, Maka took a deep inhale. "Let's go, then." She picked up her knapsack from the floor, motioning Black Star to follow. The scene was weaving in her own mind, the possibilities of what had happened and the reasoning behind it.

"Have a good time with Crona?" Black Star broke the silence as they eased through the backdoor into the yard.

Maka sent a fleeting glance of a smile back at him, "Of course. Maybe you won't believe it, but Crona's very kind, and oddly more honest than most people. It's kind of like they don't know what they shouldn't say."

"But they sure panic right after," Black Star added with a laugh.

She hummed out a sad affirmative before cutting the opposite direction across the field, her fingers still reflexively gathering flowers. The silence didn't settle and the stops and starts revolved on her tongue as she caught the grumbles and nonsense grunts from his direction. By the time her hands had filled with stems, they'd reached the crest of the hill and Maka pressed through the last line of trees that guarded the head of the creak. This wasn't the small trickle that she had led Crona to but deeper waters that fed into it, the volume so great that it'd created an eddied pool that was enough for a man to stand submerged to the shoulders. "Your favor." Maka pointed with a sweeping hand.

"Water?" Black Star grimaced. "What the hell am I doing with this?"

"A bath," Maka rolled her eyes. "Couldn't help but notice you didn't smell all that pleasant last night."

He snorted a laugh, "You're one to talk." The insult was half-hearted as he was already throwing off his shirt, letting it fall at her feet as he made for his belt.

Maka let out a huff of a sigh as she turned from him, not entirely surprised anymore but still snapping with annoyance, "You have no shame."

"Nope," Black Star cackled as he started to work off his boot by stepping on the heel with the other. "And it's not like you're interested anyway, princess." That was thrown flippantly over his shoulder as he got off both shoes and proceeded to get the rest of his clothes out of the way.

She settled down onto the grassy part of the shore, keeping her back to the water as she hugged the pack to her chest. There was a distinctive splash, a playful whoop from his throat and while she was clutching her annoyance as tightly as the bag, Maka still let a smile touch her lips. That's Black Star. Whatever's happening to him there's at least still some of him left in there. She picked at the leather as she let the splashing continue for a few minutes until she felt she could break the silence. "What did you do to Papa?"

The sloshing of the water stopped beside the natural gurgling and with a distinctive sigh came the irritated words, "Not anything he didn't deserve."

"Not what I asked," Maka shot back quickly.

There was a growl followed by a grunt and for a second she was almost sure he would refuse to answer when he snapped back at her, "I tossed him to the ground. Told him to get over himself."

Oddly there was no relief in knowing the truth, just a sad sigh leaving her lips. "Don't do that."

"Maka-"

"I don't need you to protect me like that," she clapped each word over her name.

"Look, Soul would have-"

"You're not Soul." The weight of that hit her in the gut and with the sound behind her she was sure Black Star shared in the pain. "And I would be yelling at him just like I'm doing to you now. I didn't tell either of you for a good reason. I don't need either of you to save me from this, it's done and there's no undoing it. The aftermath is something I carry and something only I can fight." Maka barely turned her head, making sure he could see the determination on her face without actually catching a glimpse of him. "I would tell Soul just to support me, and I'll tell you to do what you do best - make me laugh through it."

"Laugh?" drifted confused from his lips.

"Anger doesn't suit you," Maka shook her head as she brought her eyes back to the woods. "You've always laughed in the face of anger, sadness, hate. You make a joke out of it. Don't try to do it differently because it's what I actually like about you."

He sighed uselessly because the pressure didn't drift out of his chest as he stared at the back of that blond head. "I don't think this one's very funny."

"It's not," Maka shrugged. "But I'm telling you to let it go. If I have to order you as your princess, I will, but I think I'm asking you as a friend first." She released the pack and shoved it behind her. "Here, new clothes for you."

There were a few last splashes before his footsteps crushed the stones behind her and the shuffle of the leather started. Black Star's silence was broken by a soft laugh. "You know, it's your own damn fault."

"What is?" Maka asked innocently.

"Never should have tried to bring up my damn feelings," he shot the accusation at her but let it drift into a laugh. "Joking feels a little harder now."

"Doesn't mean it's impossible," Maka risked a glance at him, happy to find he was mostly dressed beside his shoes. "Maybe you just tipped a little too far one way. Though, I imagine if the girls saw you like this…"

"Shut up," he snorted a laugh. "You're the first and the last, Maka."

She shook her head quickly, "No. I don't think so. Being vulnerable with me didn't kill you. It won't when you do it again. Just… take it slow."

"Do I ever take anything slow?" He grinned as he grabbed his boots and sat down next to her.

"Not once," Maka shook her head but still managed a smile. "So when we get back to the castle you'll talk to Tsubaki then?"

Surely this was the first time since they'd met that his cheeks turned red from something other than laughter. "Don't bring her up!"

"I guessed right," Maka smirked.

"You guessed nothing," Black Star tried to blanch his cheeks but even in the aftermath of the chilly water, his face was starting to burn.

"You made the mistake of saying you tried with her-"

"I don't chase after women," he attempted to huff but the way that only fed the smile on her face made him feel the defeat. "I told you, she's too prudish for me."

Maka rolled her eyes but still kept the mirth on her lips. "She's not. Just wary of you since we both know you have a reputation."

While there was no denying the accusation the incredulity still came to his voice, "You were talking about me?" He tried to cover the anxiety by concentrating on settling his boots perfectly on his feet.

"A few times," Maka added innocently.

"Now, listen here, princess-" He started but stopped almost instantly because what did he have to admonish her for? His brain was still scrambling for anger but could only grumble out, "About what?"

"Can't betray trusts," Maka tried to deliver that pertly but the gaiety refused to leave her voice. "I will say my suggestion stands. If you talked to her…"

Black Star scoffed, "I've talked to her plenty."

"Yes, about getting under her skirt," she shot back plainly. "So don't chase since you said you don't chase women anyway. Be you, like you are with me and Soul, like you were this morning with Crona. Be that."

The guilt was to blame for this dream again, but what Stein was exactly culpable for he had never managed to suss out.

He was rushing through the streets, a letter in his hand that was more of an afterthought scrap brought by a messenger from three towns over. Stein assumed that his name being thrown around in a jail was nothing new but somehow Spirit, in his infinite charm, had finagled a message begging for his help. Getting Spirit out of jail hadn't taken more than a written summons from Marie but that wasn't the source of Stein's growing displeasure. It wasn't the act of having to come all this distance either. It was something chewing, gnawing at his bones and only finally exploded to his mind when he set sights on the sadly grinning redhead. "Where's Maka?"

That should have been a shameful question but Spirit gave him a shrug, "At home. She's fine."

Fine. As Stein escorted him back to the house he was running the math, counting the years and erasing the possibility that 'fine' was the truth. An eight-year-old left on her own? Fine? It seemed impossible and while rage very rarely created a scene on his face, Stein was afraid it was broiling there and threatening to pull at the edges of his foxish grin. But it wasn't rage that washed over him as he opened the door and saw Maka just as described. She was washed, clothed, food boiling in the pot over the stove though he imagined the stores must have not been so well stocked since the broth was an anemic color with very little floating in it. To all in view, this might have been fine.

What wasn't was the way she turned to look at her father, no surprise, no concern, just a hollow acknowledgment as she turned her attention to Stein. "Who are you?"

At that point, though they weren't all that far apart in distance, Stein had probably not seen her since she was something closer to a toddler, when Yaara was still at least part of the house though, in his opinion, still barely a mother. Except was he really one to have an opinion on this? "Franken Stein. An old friend of your father's."

That seemed to be more information than she asked for and she turned her head back to her business but still let her voice come cold and stoney over her shoulder. "If you're going to drink, go out back."

Spirit seemed to follow it as an order and regardless of the way he beckoned Stein along he was too struck to move. This was a terrible fine.

Stein awoke from it, the nightmare of a memory that had repeated over the last few weeks, with a heavy sigh. "Will you forgive him?" Stein asked the room since Maka was far from available for absolution. "Will you forgive me for sending you back to him?"

He sighed as the answer his mind gave him was that strange mirage again, the young blond girl standing in the middle of his room. The first time he'd seen her he was sure it was Maka, another whisper of that painful memory, but the more he saw it the less he was sure and the more he was convinced that the figure wasn't holding a tight, painful frown but a sick, wicked smile.