This took longer than I intended because I added some new perspectives. I really love Stein and Marie (I have that stupid fic about them that I haven't touched in forever and should really finish) but I'm also enjoying Black Star in this fic. Also, if by the end of this you're thinking, 'wow, that was too easy' don't worry, this isn't the end.

Stein enjoyed killing, or at least that's what he had told himself for years. Tearing people apart gave him a certain sort of satisfaction that he never thought he'd actually find elsewhere. Well, that was, until Marie. She'd been in most of his classes in high school, maybe a little high-strung but always offering a glowing warmth that he had never been able to keep himself from. Then he met Medusa. She was the opposite, a drain that stole all the life from him, and at that time, that was what he was sure he deserved.

Distancing himself from Marie became the only thing he could do, building a wall to protect that sweetness from being destroyed or taken advantage of. It was easy to loath himself then, especially as he sometimes imagined Marie being the face that waited for him at night, the one that would curl up with him in the darkness and make the day feel whole instead of simply over. She was never far from his mind, and Stein saw the aching want as punishment for his lifestyle.

That was why when he picked up that baby, a nameless screaming lump that was the last thing left alive in the Star house, his first thought was of Marie. He remembered the surprised looks of the other men, his bloody hands leaving prints on the blanket as he ripped the child from the carnage, from being another smear. He didn't wash away the mess, didn't slow or leave time to ponder, just rushed to Marie. When she saw him at her apartment door, speckled in blood with a crying infant, a part of him wished she would shut the door, finally sever the ties between the two of them and let him be the monster he was. Instead, she brought him in.

Each time he came, she let him in.

Each time he came, he stayed longer.

Each time he came, he started to feel the pull of being whole with her.

Eventually, he stopped leaving. He stayed on the couch, listening for the baby night and day, making excuses for himself that he was just easing the burden he'd given her. He was a babysitter. It wasn't like the child was starting to feel like his son. It wasn't like she was starting to feel like his. It was an arrangement.

That's what he told himself when he gave her the money to buy the house. He'd picked it himself, mostly for the size of the basement that he mused would be his living space, a dungeon where he could bring his work home if necessary. He could keep the blood from her and the child. But he never did bring anyone there, kept the place a secret from Medusa and all the rest by keeping an apartment for their trysts and business, which were becoming fewer and further between because each time he thought of Marie. Even the blood on his hands started to stink.

One night, after putting a too lively for his own good ten-year-old Blake to bed, Marie met him in the hallway. He had assumed she was on her way to give Blake his own goodnight but her hands clutched to Stein's shirt instead, her soft whisper thundering in his ears. "I love you."

He'd tried to ignore it all along, the small touches, the lingering of his eyes as they met hers, the everyday life that they had created together. When he was with her, he was a man, nothing more, and she was telling him she was a woman. That night they moved to her bed and Stein undressed her, touched her with a gentleness he'd never shown to anyone else. Every moment of that was for her, to echo those words on her skin because he couldn't dare to say it back to her. She was beautiful, pure, everything he wanted, but he wasn't deserving.

"I won't share you," she murmured after it was all over, her bare skin glistening.

"I can't leave it behind," was his answer.

To his surprise, she didn't cry or beg but simply sighed. "I know." She dressed then, not kicking him out of the bed but not welcoming him back into her arms. He wanted her to be angry, to take back her words and her touch and entire life that she'd given him but instead she let him stay, let him linger in her life. And while he still got those soft caresses, the glances, the care, he didn't return to her bed.

Their boy grew. They adopted a second, a strange-looking child, Soul, that arrived with Blake during middle school and became the second mouth they fed, another bed to make. He fathered without claiming he was fathering, but never well enough because before long Medusa knew his sons' names. It started with small jobs, taxiing information or goods, but Stein knew the eventuality, and so did Marie. When both boys came home with blood on their hands, barely more than fifteen, he finally saw her break.

"She's taken everything from me." It didn't come with tears but a deep, broken moan that chilled Stein to the core.

Watching her finally no longer being able to be strong in the face of all the pain he'd made her carry broke him. "She hasn't." He assured her with his words, with his touch, and unknown to both of them at the time, with a new life since she allowed him back in her bed.

He planned with the boys, knowing that they would be the only ones to keep the secret. It was elaborate, took time, but he knew that the only way to be free from Medusa was his death so he'd get as close to it as he could. It was a week before he'd settled the plan when Marie told him, tearfully and trembling, that Shelley was on the way. He'd never had better news.

That's why dying, being permanently ripped from all of it, was never a hardship for him. And while Marie was pleased to have him, to watch him be a father again but this time admitting that he was, Stein knew there was always a certain battle going on in her heart. There was a life she wanted that he still could not give her, but her love for him, for Shelley, was enough to make her settle. Now he could finally give her that.

Soul had found his Marie, that Stein was sure about, and his other boy, Black Star had finally awoken to the idea that maybe what you were doesn't have to be what you'll always be. Both of them were ready to move on, and Stein was glad for the chance to give Marie what she always wanted. Both of her boys would be home. He would be her husband, alive and well and free. Their home could be alive with laughter, life.

Only one more day of bloody hands.

The day was drawn out, creeping by like a slug. Stein slept for the first half but by the afternoon, all were awake, staring with nervous hands and feet. Even Soul's touches, while reassuring, fired nothing but anxious energy in Maka as they counted down to dark. Eating seemed useless and even though in a way Maka yearned for Soul to touch her again, any last acts of love felt too desperate. Being with him now would be saying goodbye, and after yesterday Maka was still painfully aware of her mortality just as much as Soul was.

When the sky became no better than pitch, Stein tramped upstairs as Soul and Maka descended into the basement. It spanned the length of the house and maybe more, Maka couldn't be sure since the bareness of it gave it a cavernous feel. The floor had no cushion, just the waterproof sealing paint which made it the perfect canvas for blood. There was a pull-out couch which had been set up to give the room at least a lived-in look, but Maka was sure there was no way someone could live down here, so barren and cold. It gave her the chills to sit on the edge, staring up at a Soul whose mind was working on fifty things at once.

Maka grabbed his hand and for a second all the buzz in his head flicked off. "I want to give you something."

"What is it?"

As his hand dipped in his pocket, the remorseful thought that it should be something romantic hit him and forced a sigh from his lips. Instead, pressed tightly in his other palm was a blade. "I've been telling myself it's a step you shouldn't have to take but… I'd rather you have it and not need it than the alternative."

Maka took it and released his hand, flicking the switch and watching the edge pop out menacingly. "I don't think I can kill someone."

"Don't expect you to," Soul murmured as his hand laid on her head. "But I feel like if you have it, you won't need it. I'm hoping… it'll just be a quick fight. That Medusa will play it stupid because she's gotten too complacent. Think of it like a good luck charm," he laughed sourly.

She didn't echo his laugh as she folded the blade back over and slid it into her pocket. "I hope we won't need luck."

Black Star could count the times Soul and he had fought on one hand. Not that he had never asked for it: Black Star had a penchant for pissing people off one way or another, but Soul had always been the cool guy. It didn't matter the stupidity that erupted from Black Star's mouth or the hijinks that he roped Soul into, Soul rarely ever blew if at all. That's why he was still trying not to give in to the surprise of Medusa actually believing there was a rift thanks to a girl.

He got it, it wasn't just any girl because in all the time they'd known each other Black Star had never seen Soul so dumbly bonkers over maybe a C-cup with a reading problem. It was kind of disgusting, the saccharine cuteness of Soul's head-over-heels act but at that point, Black Star was used to it. He'd seen it the first time Soul met Marie. Yeah, that's right, Soul had a pretty bad middle school crush on Marie and Black Star was still saving it for a perfect occasion, really waiting for an opportunity to embarrass the guy. He quickly grew out of it, mostly because by then there had been an awkward shift in her relationship with Stein and the oops that was Shelley.

And that was the other girl who had Soul wrapped around her finger. Shelley had him from day one and Black Star could still remember that goofy smile on Soul's face when he held her for the first time. And while he loved his best friend, would die for him as he was currently worried about, he was also jealous. Even though Soul tried to be closed off, built up barriers that for some were indestructible, he still seemed to become comfortable with love when he found it.

Black Star could never do that. He grew up knowing Marie and Stein weren't his parents, not in that evil stepmother type of way where they both treated him like dirt but just a deep-down feeling. They both tried to make him their son, but it was like trying to fit a square-shaped peg through a circle-shaped hole. Then they had Shelley and Black Star seemed even more pointless in the equation. That was a product of their love, their time together, and Shelley would never struggle to be one of them.

So as he watched Soul get out and start going to be with what should have been Black Star's family every other weekend, he'd feel the bite of that green-eyed monster. Soul made it look easy to fit, easy to find love, and live with it. If he ever actually said anything to Soul about this he knew he'd hear the argument, that's why it never came up and why Black Star never really tried to make the change. No one needed him in the middle of all that.

But being with Soul, holding that spot of best friend for almost half their lives was really the only tether he had to that kind of world. Watching him fall in love with Maka, well, had honestly been the first time Black Star even wanted to look at the big picture, even considered leaving, because maybe that was creating a new kind of jealousy in him. Maybe he could be amazing, perfect, awe-inspiring, but still fit, too.

That was the hope that was feeding him as he opened the door to Marie's for Medusa with his extra key. "Kilik, Kim, head to the back door. Make sure no one gets out. I'll check upstairs. The rest of you idiots stay with the boss." They had been blessed, Medusa keeping it to a measly six other guys with Kilik, Kim, and himself as enforcers. And did the bitch ever seem pleased with herself! Full of surety and joyful cackles the whole way.

Black Star glided up the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. He opened the door to Shelley's room and the guest room, knowing they'd be empty. As he moved to the master he glanced back over his shoulder, making sure there were no eyes on the stairs. When he opened the door, he saw Stein right next to the entry, hands poised but instantly dropping as he eyed Black Star. All that was really necessary here was a nod but Black Star inched closer before he whispered, "You are a good dad. To all of us." That was stupid, unnecessary, a waste of breath and time especially when you should be worried about-

"You're a good son," Stein murmured back. "I'm glad you'll be back with all of us."

That was enough to get him moving, shutting the door behind him to block Stein and his words. He eased back down the stairs and muttered, "No one's upstairs."

"Which means you were wrong," Medusa eyed him with annoyance.

"Means they're hiding in the safest place in the house - the basement." Black Star started towards the kitchen, opening the door to the stairwell.

"Kilik, move to the front door," Medusa motioned towards the front. "No ins or outs."

Black Star brought his focus to the kitchen, nodding at Kim as Kilik passed. "Guess you got the backdoor duty."

"Phrasing," Kim grinned.

Hell, even with the tension Black Star had to laugh at that one.

His laugh tumbled down the stairs and brought Soul to his feet. "Black Star?"

"And company," Medusa chimed.

Soul brought Giriko back to mind, the memory fueling the rage in his body. He had to look the part and as Medusa reached the floor he was jaw was tight as the red crept up his neck. "You bastard. I trusted you!"

Black Star could almost roll his eyes. What a classic Hollywood line. Damn, idiot, stop sounding like a B movie. "It's not about you, idiot. It's the girl. Just give her up already."

"Soul…" Maka was behind him putting on the perfect quivering maiden act as her hand trembled to his arm.

"So this is the sweet little flower I've heard so much about…" Medusa took a step forward and beckoned Maka towards her until Soul stepped in the way.

"What do you want?" Soul growled at her. "Because if you're going to hurt her, you'll have to kill me first."

"Darling, there's enough of us that you should know you don't have a choice in the matter." Medusa turned her attention to Black Star as she ran a gentle hand over his hair. "And what I want is for you to take a close look at your loyalty. You love your brother, don't you? How could you betray him, throw away all you've built for just a pretty face."

"Loyalty? My brother rats me out and you want to shit on my loyalty?" Soul hissed.

"I did it for your own good, Soul," Black Star smiled. "How else are you ever going to be free?"

"I don't know, Black Star…" Soul let the anger slip and let a grin cross his face. "Should we find out?"

Black Star was never one for words, solidly always relying on action and his first ones usually knocked it out of the park. This time, his hand grabbed the back of Medusa's head, hurling it into the concrete of the wall next to him. That should have been all it took, a snap like a melon hit with a hammer, but Medusa got her hands up just in time to cushion some of the blow.

Soul hadn't watched the result, his fingers flexed tightly around brass knuckles in his swinging hand. The first punch hit with a sickly crunch as the lackey's nose burst into blood. He was on to the next, sinking low to miss a punch to the face before serving one to someone's middle, hearing the air desperately flatten from the man's diaphragm. Soul was swinging for a third when he heard Black Star.

"That stupid little bitch," he hissed. "Hey, head's up, bitch is on the run!"

Soul turned his head just in time to see Medusa pounding up the stairs, hands aiding just as much as her legs. How much he wanted to put his hands on her was only trumped by the idea of leaving Maka to wade through his mess. Instead, he threw his voice back to Black Star as he tossed another punch. "Don't forget - Daddy's home."

"You little traitors!" Medusa was screeching through her teeth as she got to the top of the stairs, eyes falling on unforgiving faces at the doors.

"No ins or outs, remember?" Kilik grinned.

"Ugh, leaving me without any good lines," Kim rolled her eyes.

Medusa was whiplashing between the two, decisions and ploys running through her head. It wasn't until she heard the creak of the stairs that the craning stopped, her eyes glued on Stein as he descended. Her eyes were more whites than anything else especially as Stein's smile slid across his face. "Stein? What are you…? How are you here?"

Fear wasn't something Medusa was used to, not trembling through her own extremities, making her feet unable to move another step. Worse yet was the wave that came with the cold words from his lips, "Did you miss me?" Stein flipped the blade casually in his palm. "I have to admit that I've thought of you."

All the memories flooded to her at once, the blood, the sex, the madness that she remembered from him, and none of it was there. Even if his words felt cold, they were real, he was real and entirely different.

"I often wondered what this moment would be like," he murmured.

"Franken, please." Was she begging? When was the last time she had pleaded? Was it Arachne when they were children or maybe some teasing moment in bed with the man who was unexpectedly in front of her.

"Would I feel sorry? Would I miss you? Would I like it?" The last question made that smile turn manic.

Medusa was willing her legs to move but the messages were garbled as Stein stopped just in front of her.

"You've stolen a lot from me," Stein's smile softened as his grip tightened on the blade. "So don't think for a second I'm sorry to see you go."

Medusa barely dodged the first swipe, the blade zinging through the air between them. The next caught the inside of her arm, sending tiny droplets splattering on the floor as she let the momentum take her there. She swiped his legs, forcing Stein to crumble against the couch and allowing for her to scramble back to her feet. Stein pushed off the furniture, checking her into the wall as photos clamored to the floor, the gentle trickling sound of glass echoing in the face of the otherwise silent assault. As Medusa fell again, she grabbed at a shard, swinging blindly as she turned and opening a slice in his thigh.

Stein grabbed her hair, pulling her across the floor the way she had come as she kicked and screamed. She lifted the shard again to stab at his wrist but his other hand blocked her, crushing her palm around the sharp fragment until blood oozed between her finger. He got her to the cellarway, Medusa desperately trying to lodge her feet into the frame to stop the drag. Stein wrenched her to the side by her hair and her arm before his foot connected with her back, pushing her out of the frame and tumbling down the stairs.

As Medusa hit the bottom, her eyes found the lifeless assortment of her men while Soul and Black Star stood panting above them. She rolled helplessly on her back, looking up the stairs to see Stein slowly descending. "Franken, we could-"

"Be together?" Stein finished with a laugh. "You have the audacity to try that?" He scuttered down the rest of the stairs, quickly leaning in to grasp at her hair again. "Do you know what I've been doing for the last eight years? Finally letting myself be in love with Marie, raising our daughter together."

Air hissed between Medusa's lips, "A lovely little brood with that bitch and your adopted sons, too. What a picture-perfect family. It makes me sick."

"Happiness always has," Stein sighed.

Soul grasped Maka as he saw Stein raise the knife. She refused his hands, simply holding tight instead of letting them cover her eyes or turn her away. Soul didn't watch the scene but instead watched it play across Maka's face. Fear was naturally there, disgust at the blood as the knife in Stein's hand eased across Medusa's throat like butter, but no tears, no abject horror as the gurgling last breaths filled the room. Her eyes finally turned to his then dipped to his hands. As she smoothed a thumb over the blood drying on his knuckles, she murmured, "You're free."