Ah, I'm so excited for you to read this! And a special thanks to all my reviewers, you definitely keep me going!

Maka took the risk of jumping in the shower, dying to get rid of the chalk from her hair. She carefully rebraided in a single braid, not as well as Jackie did but at least out of the way. That apparently didn't bring him home because the rest of the apartment was still dark and Maka took some time to pace the hallway, listening carefully for any creak from anywhere in the building. There were footsteps, but too many, definitely not a singular Soul and Maka was just about to continue along her merry way of wearing down a ditch in the hallway floor when the stomping got closer.

She paused just in time to jump at the first rattle of the door. Between the deadbolt and Soul's insistence on replacing the door with a sturdier model than apartment living usually allowed, the door only started to crack on the third hit. Maka was already out of the hallway and locking herself in Soul's room to frantically tear apart everything. He has to have something, some kind of weapon. Under the bed, as if it could get any more stereotypical, was a baton. She tested the swing two times before the final crack of the front door echoed in the apartment.

Soul's door wouldn't last half as long so Maka positioned herself on the other side of the doorway, eyeing for the right height. Go for the face, incapacitate and run, it was her voice in her head even though the words sounded like Soul, bringing her back to the almost broken nose and the million other gym moments after. But it's not going to be sweet like that, it's not going to be someone you want touching you, so be ready. He told you to hit until they were out cold. This door snapped and even with the jolt, she managed to swing the baton just in time to crack into the first man's face.

That helped to slow the second man who obviously hadn't been prepared for carnage and his sluggish recovery time thankfully bought her another swing. The man caught it, his hand definitely making an unhealthy snapping sound as he grunted in pain. She tried to yank the baton away as the third pressed through the door. Let him grab you. You know how to manage that, not both of them at once. Soul was in a small way correct, Maka could be a good actress if she needed to be as she let go of the baton to smother a pathetic yelp. While the second man cradled his hand and dropped the nightstick, the third grabbed her by the arm, throwing her against the wall. She felt the sting above her eyebrow, the temporary dizzying from impact before he pulled her back to his chest in the perfect bear hug.

What are you going to do? She heard Soul clear as day in her head.

I'm going to give him a hell of a lot more than a bloody nose. She bent quickly at her waist, throwing the number three off-balance and breaking his grip on her, as she threw her elbow back she heard the solid crack of it against his neck. She twisted again, her other elbow hitting the mark and belting into his cheek. That was enough to at least get the man to grey out, his body tumbling uselessly to the floor.

Number two leaned down to grab the baton with his good hand but Maka decided that was the perfect angle to treat his head like a football. While Soul had never exactly taught her that move, it definitely was effective as his head smashed back into the door. With her last bit of common sense, Maka leaned down, picked up the nightstick, and took another glance around the room at the thankfully motionless bodies. The breath that she wanted to have was short-lived as she heard another rush of footsteps down the hallway. Her head was starting to throb but she raised the stick again, ready to hit as the body came around the corner.

This blocking hand was smarter, grabbing at her wrist rather than taking the weapon's swing and Maka found herself relieved instead of terrified as she met those scarlet eyes that were actually almost as red as his face. She couldn't tell if he was out of breath or furious but in the end, the thought didn't matter because he took one look around the room and then pulled her as tightly to him as possible. "Fuck," he muttered in multitudes.

Part of her wanted to revel in the idea that she was finally getting his touch but the fear was pumping nothing but common sense into her veins. "We have to get out."

"Grab a bag, just what you need." Soul was releasing her when the new grumbling came from the hallway. Without a word, he grabbed the cudgel from her and turned back into the hallway. "What the fuck do you want?" Soul spat as he stood in front of the two new men in the hallway.

The larger one smiled, "Just a dance, Eater."

"Cool." Soul shrugged before Maka saw his face stretch out into a broad smirk. He moved first, the baton still carefully behind his back before swinging low, hitting the first man in the side as he uselessly swung a punch over Soul's head. All the air expelled from the man's lungs and he faltered into the wall. Soul had to slow his momentum because he heard the click of the switchblade just in time for the whiff of air to slice at his middle. It hadn't all been air, Soul noticed much to his chagrin as that same old burning sensation lit up his stomach. Next came the jab and with his free hand Soul used the momentum to pull the second man forward, watching him stumble over his own feet. That kind of clumsiness came with a firm crack to the nape of the man's neck from Soul's nightstick.

In the moment, he'd forgotten he had more than one partner and the taller man was rewarding Soul's memory with a firm punch to the jaw, tossing him back a few steps. Getting his brains rattled hadn't really set Soul back in years, though, and the recovery caught the other man off guard enough that Soul got another solid hit to his middle. As the man doubled over, Soul jutted up his knee, cracking the man in the face. "Nice dance, dipshit," Soul grumbled as he held up the baton again, ready to add a fresh new coat of red paint to the walls.

"Soul!"

Her call was like a quick submersion in cold water, his head snapping over his shoulder as he lowered the weapon. "You get that bag?"

"I had one ready. You told me… lesson number thirty-eight or something," she murmured.

A delirious chuckle left his throat as he walked back to her. His hands were shaking and for once he was sure it wasn't the adrenaline but the absolute terror finally catching up with him. I thought she'd be bloody on the ground, dead, or worse, them playing with her and… she's here. Trembling fingers came to her head, delicately trying to clear the hair away from the matted bloody spot on her forehead. "Is this it? Did they hurt you somewhere else?"

"No, but your stomach-"

"Yeah, yeah," he batted her hand away, instead clenching the fingers in his. "You're sure? Just your head?"

"Just my head." She would have nodded except Maka was sure any sudden movements would leave her reeling.

"Stay right here." Soul dropped her hands and ducked quickly back into his room to grab the bug-out bag from the bottom of his closet. He was happy to hear nothing but silence as he walked back into the hallway and grabbed her bag from the floor, balancing both in one hand so he could still brandish the baton. They were almost out of the apartment when he paused, at the moment deathly afraid to bring his eyes to her but unable to ask the question without it. "The safest spot is this motel I know. We can get fixed up there but if… if you want I can take you to your dad's or wherever else you want to go. You don't have to stay with me."

Maka's hand gently touched his arm as the first deep breath of air hit her lungs after all the racing. "I want to go with you."

Mira's was, on the outside, your regular old flea-bit motel. But since Mira was married to Sid, used to the gang scene and all the wonderful perks that came along with it, she'd set the place up like a bunch of panic rooms. Even though that idea sounded lucrative on its face, most people didn't actually know about the joint because if you knew where the panicked went, wouldn't that be the first place you looked for your prey?

So a chosen few knew about it and even less used it. Technically, Soul wasn't even supposed to know, but Stein had once warned him early on when Soul was trying to be on the outs that if shit hit the fan, you needed to lay low, you called on Mira. Not to mention it helped that she was a better backstreet butcher than Stein was.

Except this time, it felt more like Mira was ripping out his guts than sewing them back together. Maybe it had something to do with a particular blond giving him the eye from the tiny table in the kitchenette. It really was just one eye, too, since the padding that Mira had taped to Maka's forehead over the three stitches her split eyebrow had earned her was big enough to act as an eyepatch.

Soul was trying to avoid both discussions, the one that Maka was obviously already having with him in her head and the one that Mira was biting her tongue for by having the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for Black Star to pick up. "Dude, where the hell did you go, I get back to the pit and-"

"Somebody sent a squad to the apartment," Soul interrupted flatly.

Shock and awe were old news at this point and Black Star did nothing more than sigh. "How many?"

"Five. Pretty sure I wasn't supposed to be there, either."

"Bet you weren't. She OK?"

"Fine, beat the shit out of three of them before I even got there." He shouldn't have allowed his chest to puff up with pride or the satisfied chuckle especially as he heard the huff from her direction.

"Not bad, blondie. Congratulate her for me," Black Star chuckled. "Because she's with you, right? You didn't lose your mind and let her go somewhere?"

"We're together. Currently getting stitched up but nothing I can't cover up with another tattoo," he grumbled as Mira started cleaning up and bandaging her neat stitching job.

"Which means you're not hurt bad enough to put off fixing this tonight," that was a firm order, not a jovial, laughable best friend's suggestion.

"I can't," he tried to make it an empty answer, a bland reply to a request but the entirety of the night was turning it into a begging whisper.

"And your God here is going to help you out because it's partly my fault, anyway." Soul wasn't sure what shocked him more, the idea that Black Star was taking the blame or that he thought he was at fault at all. "Look, I never should have asked you to take that job with me."

"I could have said no," Soul urged back, the confusion at least bringing his voice away from that surging emotion of minutes before.

"Nah, you wouldn't. You're loyal to a fault," Black Star laughed.

"Some people would appreciate that," Soul snipped back.

"Yeah, like your girl. That's why she's pissed, right? You cheated on her."

Soul gritted his teeth before letting a sigh hiss between them, "I told you I don't get that. I didn't. It's a lie, or-"

"Not a lie, just a mistake," Black Star corrected quickly. "I was going to tell you when I came to pick you up to take you back to her tonight, but I guess she'll get the chance now. So actually listen to her and don't run your stupid mouth unless she asks you to."

"Alright," he sighed. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"How about I just call you when I figure out what the fuck happened," Black Star spat. "Spend your time working on what's in front of you."

"Got it." Soul brought the cellphone from his ear, hit the red button, and threw it lifelessly on the bed. Both Maka and Mira were back to staring, probably waiting for some kind of summation of the news but instead of sharing he sat up from the bed.

Maka was halfway out of the chair. "You shouldn't-"

"Don't baby him," Mira laughed. "But you, if you feel nauseous or dizzy again, let me know."

"Thank you, Mira," Maka murmured as she settled back down in the chair, satiated by the mothering.

Mira took a moment to look between the two of them, feeling the room thick with an electric tension that she was both interested in but definitely not wanting to be a part of. Instead, she stood slowly and patted Soul on the shoulder. "Stay as long as you need to."

"Yeah, thanks, Mira." Soul watched as she walked to the door, giving a gentle wave to Maka before letting herself out. "I'll be right back." His side felt like butterfly kisses in comparison to the way his heart lurched at the look he got in reply to that. He grabbed the ice bucket and the key before sneaking out the door, giving himself a second to adjust to the air and the reality. I'm supposed to be fixing things but I don't even know how the hell to do that. That brought a cavalcade of curses as he made his way down the stairs to the ice machine. He filled the bucket as his mind raced through his options, the courses of action that he had in front of him. One way or another he had to follow his orders.

With the ice bucket full, Soul plodded back up the stairs and unlocked the door. Maka was still in the chair but leaning limply against the table. Only her eyes moved to him when he opened the door. He swung the deadbolt and moved slowly towards the bed, resting the ice on the side table. There weren't real words to acknowledge her yet, just actions he had to get through to build the courage. Instead, he offered, "Get on the bed." He moved to the other side to leave room for her, feeling the agonizing sting in his side as he reached to get his bag. When he'd gotten that on the bedspread he rifled through it, finding the plastic sandwich bags at the bottom. It was back to the ice then, filling handfuls until there was enough before wandering to the bathroom to grab one of the hand towels.

Maka had stalled, standing by the chair for a few breaths before she sat down on the bed and arranged the pillows before leaning against the headboard.

Finally, he offered her the finished product. "Here, for your head."

"Thank you," she murmured and took it, pressing it on the bandage above her eyebrow.

No matter the pull, Soul forced himself to the chair Maka had just vacated as he leaned back, trying not to put pressure on the burning line along his stomach. "Maka, I…" He spoke to the ceiling. "I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Anything?" She asked the question but must have thought better of it, immediately offering the follow-up. "Just tell me everything you were going to tell me after our date."

"Our date," he laughed incredulously as he felt the stuttering start to a sob tingle at the back of his throat. I wonder if you'd consider that our first or… am I too hopeful to think there were a lot more before that? Just maybe not formally announced and… He shook the thoughts away, knowing those weren't the important questions she wanted to be answered. "Trying to be out meant I had a deal with Medusa already going before we even met. I paid her a sum every month, like paying dues for a membership I wasn't using."

"How much?"

"Fuck," he muttered. You said anything, idiot. "A thousand a month."

Maka's eyes would have bugged out of her head if any facial movement at the moment didn't ache. "That's-"

"Ridiculous, yeah," Soul let out a defeated sigh. "But I thought I was buying my freedom. I was pretty sure I'd give her my whole damn paycheck if it meant I didn't have to… hurt people anymore. That's what I did, my job. I'm not exactly perfect at hand-to-hand," Soul motioned down his bandaged stomach, "but I'd go in as muscle or… I got too good at torturing people, too. Worst part but it's what I was good at."

"You don't seem like you'd be able to do something like that," Maka murmured as she tried to negotiate the ice to get a clearer view of him. Soul's eyes were still hopelessly counting dots on the ceiling but she wished he'd give her a glance of those gentle eyes to disprove the truth in front of her.

Soul threw a hand over his face but the shame wouldn't rub off. "You saw it tonight, didn't you? I only didn't bash that guy's head in because you said my name and to be honest, really fucking honest, I didn't want to stop. Just didn't want you to see."

"Why didn't you want to stop?"

That wasn't the question he expected but even in his baffled mind, the answer came easily. "They were going to kill you. They all deserved whatever the fuck I was going to give them and worse for touching you." Soul let that grumble sickly in his chest before he lowered his eyes, finally touching on hers to let out the next painful warble, "But I do hate the sight of blood on my hands. Don't think I enjoy that, please."

"Honestly, I don't see how you would pay a thousand dollars a month to avoid something you did like, so I believe you." Her smile was so softly torturous as her eyes met his. "What were the other deals with Medusa?"

There were a lot of wishes here, that he could be holding onto her while he said this, or that he could guarantee that she'd forgive him, but no matter what he had no choice but to utter every last word. "I was hopeful that saving you just meant more money on my tab, but in that phone call she told me I had to throw the job with Eibon to save you."

The color drained from Maka's face, "But you didn't."

"Because I used my head, I guess," Soul sighed. "If I'd done that, you'd never trust me again. That was your job just as much as it was mine and if I fucked that up you'd have every right to hate me."

"Then you went out with me thinking, knowing that Medusa was going to come for us as soon as she found out." Maka let the ice drop to her lap so her hands could worry together.

Soul nodded, "Which is why I jumped on the second job. That was another deal to make up refusing the other. She made me the too good to be true promise that she'd leave both of us alone for good if I did it. Should have seen through that because all she did was pump me full of venom that I just brought back to you." He leaned forward to emphasize his point with the useless reach of his hands but the pain hit him and he grunted back to sitting with a tall back. "I shouldn't have touched you that night. I get that. I was… too pushy and I'm not proud of that and I'm sorry. I know that means jackshit, probably, but I'm sorry."

He let a bitter laugh tumble off his lips before continuing, "Not to mention then I just kept packing salt into that wound every chance I got so I get it if you… if now you actually hate me because at this point I feel like I kind of deserve it, but… I didn't cheat," each word came with a desperate passion. "You're… how you could think I wanted anyone other than you, that I could feel this way about someone else, just makes no fucking sense to me."

"Because it wasn't sense," Maka whispered as she ran a hand through her hair, feeling the ache at the roots almost as much as the one in her heart. "I didn't take Franken's advice either… so when I smelled the perfume and saw the lipstick on your shirt that night…" She still had to bite at her lip as the offensive images glanced over her mind.

"What?" The jaw drop would almost be comical if Maka's eyes weren't already swimming with tears.

"Your boss, she got close to you that night, didn't she?" She watched the dawning horror on his face but that didn't stop the flood from her mouth. "That's what Black Star said and all I saw was what she left behind, the lipstick, the perfume, the scratches on your neck. In my head I just knew you couldn't, wouldn't, but in my heart, Soul… It just hurt too much to see it. That's why I couldn't sleep next to you. That's why I left. I even stopped to check your shirt again while you were sleeping because I was just hoping I'd imagined the whole thing."

"You weren't looking for blood?" It was a weak, scared whisper from his mouth as his eyes widened.

"No, just… seeing that purple smear again and smelling her on you." Maka covered her mouth to choke back the sound of a sob. She cleared it from her mouth with a slow breath behind her fingers. "I should have asked, I know I should have given you a chance but-"

"No," Soul interrupted with a short shake of his head. "It was just too perfect. She didn't know about your parents, but she was betting cheating would piss off any girl. I get how that could set you off." He let his head fall into his hands regardless of the ache that produced in his stomach. "At least… you know now, that I didn't, that I wouldn't." He wanted to scream it, to rush over and grab her and shake her with it but he was frozen.

"It's a weird memory," she warbled. "I know it's not true, but it's there like a bad taste in the back of my mouth. I… it hurts and the past week hasn't helped. We were both so angry."

His hands were trembling as his fingers dug into his hair, trying to steady his mind as the words burned on his tongue. "So, like I said, I get it if you hate me now. I just… I don't know what's coming but no matter what it is I want you to know the truth."

While the first half of that was concerning, the rest sent a chill down her spine. "What do you think is coming?"

There was an aching pause before he shuddered out a breath. "A war, or something close to it. Black Star's been making a Plan B to get us all out but to be honest, there's no out without Medusa dead. We kill her, we're free." None of that thawed her especially as he raised his head to display equally icy eyes. "I can't offer another solution and unless Black Star comes up with different… we either do that or die trying."

"Why not leave?" Maka murmured breathlessly.

"Because this will happen again," he caught himself pleading but didn't care. "Stein plays dead to stay away from her, and that's not the kind of life I want to lead. And think about it - her gone means we're all free, not just me."

Maka withered, her body sinking down into the bed. "You could get killed though."

"Sure," Soul added instantly, much to her chagrin. "I know you'll call me stupid again but maybe there are some things worth dying for. Protecting people's one of them."

"You're stupid," trembled out as a groan from her lips.

Soul laughed softly, "I know, but… you made me see that it's worth it, how much my job matters, my family, my friends. Even if this, us, is over, it's worth it." The last sentence trembled off his lips as his eyes fell to his hands.

Maka could have kicked herself, the idea that she hated him left unchallenged two times in the conversation and leaving him now in some woeful universe where she wasn't waiting for him to get his ass up and over to the bed. "We're over?" she whispered.

"I don't expect you to give me another chance," he breathed.

"I'm not," Maka balked. "You never lost the first one."

"What?" Regardless of the pain he was on his feet and taking a few careful steps towards the bed.

"We were both idiots," Maka shook her head. "I can't hold what you didn't do against you. Unless you want-"

"No," he pleaded with hands, with voice, with all of him as he took another step. "No, I don't want you to leave me."

"Then will you please get a clue and come over here and comfort me?" Her fingers were reaching for him, encouraging the last desperate steps before he sat on the bed. Soul pulled her off the headboard, bringing her tightly to him as his hands rubbed along her back. "That's better," she murmured as she pressed her face against his bare skin. This was a moment to rewrite over memories, the light smell of his skin, the way his fingers were gently drawing lines along her spine.

"Can I… can I kiss you?"

"I thought we went over this: asking seems silly." She pulled away from his chest with a smile especially as those drifting hands came to cup her cheeks.

"You really want some guy kissing you out of nowhere?" he chuckled softly.

"For the last time, you're not some guy, and you better kiss me."