A/N: I've noticed my chapter titles getting shorter as the chapters get more serious, but this is probably one of the shortest ones yet. I'll try and top it with a one-word title sometime in the future if I can, lol. Enjoy the chapter!
Review Responses:
AmyNChan, glad you liked the scene and Morgan and Cassie's resonance! Forgot to make Soul melt, sorry about that. Uh, he melted on the inside, but was too cool to show it and was distracted by Maka being Maka? Glad you liked the scarf! I thought of it and couldn't let it go, so now I keep imagining Shelley in the scarf. Regarding the twins' names, it was probably Maka. When I came up with the twins, I actually came up with their names first, because Anima Evans sounded like the perfect name for a Maka x Soul baby, but Rei was already slated to be male so that I could pair him up with Ayame, and then I decided that if one daughter would be cute, why not two? Thanks for the review, and glad you enjoyed it!
OfAllTheShizz, thanks, glad you liked it! Maka and Soul's scene was a late addition to the outline, so glad it worked out well!
fpjohn, yep, it's more or less begun now. The plot is ramping up, but it's really going to start when you see a certain guy whose name starts with Black and ends with Star. ^^
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Love Lost
The sound of a murmuring voice drew her out of sleep slowly, and she drew closer to the source of that warmth, still not wanting to open her eyes. Sunlight danced across the outside of her eyelids as she lay there, listening to the murmur, feeling an arm slip around her and pull her close.
A smile came to her lips and she opened her eyes, looking up sleepily. "3x^2 + 15/43 y," she said.
"Hmm?" Micah asked, smiling down at her warmly.
"The answer to your problem," Shelley said, "I could hear you muttering to yourself in my sleep."
She pushed herself up so that she was sitting next to him. He smiled at her, shifting his position to accommodate her, but also turned the book he was writing in away. From this angle, she caught a glimpse of calculations and what might have been magical symbols, but nothing more.
"Ah, that was just me trying to see how many times I could fail at multi-variate calculus before it inevitably summoned you, dear."
"Don't call me 'dear'," said Shelley, poking him in the ribs with a finger with an exaggerated frown. She drew closer to him, trying to sit up at an angle where she could see inside the notebook. "What are you working on this early in the morning, anyway?" she asked.
"It's a surprise," Micah said, smiling at her. "My greatest project yet. But don't worry, you'll love it."
"Will I?" Shelley asked.
"Yes," he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You will. I promise…"
The dream faded away, the light and warmth going with it and leaving Shelley Marie Stein with a more pressing problem, the fact that her brain seemed to be doing its level best to escape through her ears. She opened her eyes, even though every instinct she possessed was screaming against it, and instantly regretted it, closing her eyes again with a low groan.
"Ah, there she is," said a voice that was suddenly, achingly familiar. She felt a pair of warm hands enclose one of hers. "How are you feeling, Shelley dear?"
"Like I want to die…" she groaned, but she cracked open an eye anyway, slowly this time.
"That's the spirit," said Marie, gently smoothing her hair away from her face.
She was lying on a familiar pink couch, with a familiar ceiling above her. Her parents' house.
Fantastic.
She closed her eyes, but the events of last night stubbornly escaped her. She didn't remember much more than showing up at the bar and asking for a drink. No, wait, that wasn't entirely correct. She did remember some things, but if her memories were accurate, she'd almost rather go back to sleep. She cracked open her eyes again at the sound of footsteps and managed, just barely, to turn her head enough to see her father walking past the couch, a clipboard in hand.
"Take two aspirin," he said, his voice flat, "and if you find yourself in a life-threatening emergency, I'm available at lunch."
"Your paternal warmth and devotion knows no bounds," Shelley managed to quip, looking over at him.
"Sorry," said Stein, glancing down at her. "They're a little exhausted from staying up half the night to make sure my progeny didn't choke to death on her own vomit."
She winced. The movement was enough to make another lance of pain stab through her head, which made her wince more. When she opened her eyes again, Stein was sitting on the coffee table, frowning at her. He had, at least, lowered the clipboard. Marie sat on a stool next to the couch, watching the two of them with some concern.
"You look like you're about to say something…" Shelley said.
Stein's response was to reach up to the side of his head and turn the bolt. "How much did you drink last night?" he asked.
She closed her eyes against a sudden bout of nausea, taking in a slow breath. "That really isn't any of your concern," she said. Which was her way of saying that she honestly didn't remember.
"I'm a doctor. When your blood alcohol level ceases to be a decimal, it becomes my concern."
"Touché," she said, lying back again and closing her eyes.
"I'm normally a fan of experimentation," Stein said. "But promise me that the next time you attempt to flush your entire circulatory system with ethanol, you do it at a medical facility."
"Noted," Shelley groaned. "Just please tell me I dreamed the part where I started crying about my love life on Spirit Albarn's shoulder."
"Senpai was rather happy to inform me that that wasn't a dream. When he brought you here last night. After you blacked out."
Shelley groaned, turning away. "Just kill me," she said, throwing an arm over her eyes. "You can start over. Grow the next one in a vat."
"Hm. I do have some notes prepared for Shelley 2.0."
She said nothing in response to that, her head still spinning. After a few moments, she heard her father stand up, and felt a surprisingly warm hand land on her shoulder, squeezing it for a few moments before he turned and walked away. She exhaled, and then felt her gorge rise alarmingly.
"I think I'm going to be sick…" she groaned.
Stein wordlessly kicked a bucket over to her on his way to the door. She rolled over and turned her head towards it gratefully. When she was finished, she lay back again. Marie combed her hair out of her face and handed her a towel, giving her a worried smile.
"Can I get you anything?" Marie asked, after helping her through a few sips of water. "Breakfast?"
"Oh God, no…" said Shelley, the very thought sending her stomach roiling again. She lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "Just let me die in peace…"
It was quiet in the lab, the only sound the whirring of whatever instrument Stein had left working before he headed off to the DWMA. Shelley lay there for a few moments, considering the sad state of her life, before she couldn't help it. She started laughing. Her mother seemed completely unfazed by this, as if hysterical laughter in the face of astounding emotional and physical pain was simply a fact of life. Which, given this family, it probably was.
"All better?" Marie asked, when she calmed down. She was still holding her hand.
"No…" Shelley said, blinking tears out of her eyes. "I've officially become one of those crazy ladies that hang out at the bar to whine about their exes. Oh God…I peaked at fourteen."
"You did not peak at fourteen," said Marie firmly, squeezing her hand. She squeezed it hard enough to hurt, which, honestly, was just par for the course with Marie. "Trust me. It will be okay."
"Easy for you to say," Shelley said, cracking an eye open. "Getting back together with your ex was a possibility for you. Because you know, he didn't murder one of your best friends. I might as well just get a cat…"
"You do not need a cat," said Marie. "You need sleep, and a shower, and something to eat. And those aspirins your father was talking about. And coffee. In no particular order. And you need to stop thinking about Micah."
"How about we start with sleep and work all the other things out later," said Shelley, leaning back and closing her eyes again. Marie sighed, slowly releasing her hand to pat her on the shoulder.
"I'll be right back with some coffee," she said, and then added. "It will be okay, Shelley. I know that seems hard to believe right now, but it will…"
Shelley didn't answer, feigning sleep. She remained awake, though, listening as Marie started working on getting coffee and breakfast together. She didn't particularly want to sleep.
Not if dreams like that were waiting for her again.
"Is it just me, or does he look like he hasn't slept?" asked Vayne.
"It's Professor Stein," said Rei. "He always looks like he hasn't slept."
"Yeah, but I mean…worse than usual."
Rei frowned, waving Vayne off and turning around in his seat as Stein faced the room. Studying the professor, he had to admit that Vayne had a point. Stein always looked like he had been a little short on sleep, but today it looked like he was barely holding himself upright. Not the best way to start off his first official class of the new year.
But then again, it wasn't as if Rei was much better off. Jumping from Japan to Nevada to France, getting injured in France and then jumping back to Nevada again had played havoc with his sleep schedule. It was enough to give him some trouble focusing in class and make him a little grumpier today, but it wasn't anything that a cup of coffee couldn't fix.
Then again, Stein was pretty much his grandfather's age. Maybe the professor wasgetting old.
It was a slightly disturbing thought, since by now most of the DWMA's students had just assumed that Stein was immune to normal biological things like aging, so Rei put it out of his mind and turned back towards the professor as Stein turned around and wrote a single word on the board: TEAMS. He underlined it twice, tapping the chalk against the bottom right of the word to get their attention.
"Alright," he said. "You're second years, so it's time to start resonating in groups. Today's assignment: form your teams. Three meisters. Try to pick people you work well with. Everyone understand?"
Silence. Students exchanged glances with each other as Stein watched them from behind his glasses, his eyes fixed firmly on the middle distance. A few of the ones in the front row nodded.
"Good," said Stein, fixing his glasses. "If you need me, I'll be in the faculty lounge doing…work. Dismissed."
He staggered out of the room, dragging his stitched chair behind him. A disbelieving hush fell over the class for a few moments after the door closed, and then murmurs of conversation started picking up around the room.
Rei blinked. "Wait, that's it?" he asked.
Ayame clapped her hands definitively, leaning back in her seat and stretching her arms in the air. "Woot," she said. "Early lunch."
"W-Wait, Ayame," said Clark, turning towards her as she started to stand. "We can't just leave. We have to figure out who's on our team."
"Team," Ayame said, pointing at Clark. She moved her hand, pointing at Vayne, Morgan, Cassie, herself, and Rei in turn. "Team, team, team, team, hmm…team. No objections? Okay, we're good." She moved her hands together quickly, as if dusting them off. "Assignment done. Early lunch. Let's get out of here."
Rei didn't have many objections to that. He bent down and picked up his bag, grunting as pain ran through the wound on his chest, and slung it over his shoulder, following his partner out through the rows. A moment later, Morgan shut the book she was reading with a definitive crack, getting up to follow them. Cassie stood up after her, raising her arms over her head and stretching lazily before filing out of the rows. The last to leave were Vayne and Clark, Vayne practically dragging Clark out by the arm.
"But—but, the class—," Clark said. "The social order—."
"Calm down, iinchou," Vayne said. "They'll figure it out."
"I—okay…" He took a deep breath as they left the room, pushing his glasses up on his face and seeming to compose himself. "Well, since we've officially decided to become a team, and since we apparently have all this time, we should celebrate somehow. We should find somewhere to eat in town."
"Can we get burgers?" Ayame asked, leaning forward eagerly to join the conversation. "Rei and I just got back from, like, the middle-of-nowhere, Japan. I'd kill for a good burger and some fries right now."
"Death Diner it is, then," said Vayne, grinning. He placed a hand on Rei's shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly towards the exit. "Come on. Let's get out of here before someone starts wondering why we're not in class."
"Um…actually…" Cassie stopped walking, glancing at the ground uncertainly. The other five frowned, looking back at her as she put her phone back into her pocket and raised her hands up to her chest, pushing her index fingers together. "I…um…can't go to lunch with you."
"Hmm?" asked Clark, brows raising. "Why's that?"
"Well…you see…the thing is…I, um, already have lunch plans."
"Oh really?" Clark asked. "With whom?"
"Um…well, you know…" said Cassie, gesturing vaguely. "A…friend?"
Rei's eyes widened and he exchanged a glance with Vayne, who was giving Clark an increasingly terrified look from behind his head. He looked back at Ayame, who was watching the scene with some actual concern.
"What I'm trying to say," said Cassie, taking a deep breath and not looking at Clark. "Is that I have a d—I have a duh—a day—a—."
"She has a date," said Morgan, cutting Cassie off and stepping forward, so that she was almost, but not quite, standing between Cassie and Clark. "So if you could be mature about it, Clark, I'm sure she would really appreciate it."
"Y-Yeah," said Cassie, still not looking at Clark. "What, uh, what she said."
Clark stared at Cassie, open-mouthed. "You have a da—a date?!" he repeated, incredulous.
"Yeah," said Cassie, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. "Long story. Um—tell you all about it some other time. Have fun at lunch."
Before Clark could do anything more than gape at her, Cassie waved at them and turned away, walking as quickly down the hallway as she could manage without looking like she was running. Clark stared after her, then looked back at the others.
"A date?" he mouthed.
Rei shrugged, Morgan glared at him warningly, and Ayame gave him a sheepish grin. Vayne sighed, putting his hand on Clark's arm and guiding him away from Cassie towards the exit.
"Come on, lover boy," he said. "Let's get some food."
Clark followed along, still blubbering.
They didn't go straight to the diner, at Clark's insistence and to everyone else's great impatience. Instead, they looped back around so that Clark could watch from behind a corner as Cassie poked her head into the classroom of Class Crescent Moon, a tall upperclassman coming out to meet her. Rei honestly could not care less about Cassie's love life, but it was important to Clark and he was a lot less whiny when he got his way, so he leaned against the wall and folded his arms impatiently while Clark peered around the corner and seemed to be trying very hard not to cry.
Ayame, normally at least a little involved in the gossip around the school, settled beside Rei with a huff, her hands clasped behind her back. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and remembered that he wasn't the only one feeling the jetlag from the past few days. He raised his brows at her but said nothing, looking back at Cassie's whispered conversation with her new beau.
Ethan, according to Morgan. A third-year. Rei had seen him around school a few times, but hadn't really stopped to talk to him. He was tall, a little over a head taller than Cassie, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes. Apparently, he was a weapon. A decently skilled one too, according to the rumor mill. The rumor mill also said a few other things about him, but considering it was mostly fed by N.O.T. students speculating on the social lives and abilities of their E.A.T. counterparts, Rei had learned to take it with a grain of salt.
They let Clark have a few more moments before Morgan finally stepped forward, impatient, and grabbed hold of his shoulder.
"Food," she said. "Now."
Clark sniffed, but reluctantly pulled away, turning towards her. "Yes, Morgan…"
Rei rolled his eyes, but stood up, the five of them finally leaving the school.
Maka peered through the gap in the faculty lounge door at Stein, who was lying on the couch, an arm thrown up over his face. The lights were off, curtains drawn over the windows to block out the sun. Someone, probably Stein himself, had taped a crudely-made sign to the outside of the door, one that said: "Do Not Disturb".
She quickly withdrew from the room, pulling the door closed a fraction and turning towards Soul. "The students were right," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I think he's asleep…"
Soul was not impressed. "Tch," he said, "Slacker."
"Soul," she said. "Don't be like that. What if something's wrong? Marie didn't come in today at all, you know. What if she's sick? What if something happened to her? I'm going to go in and ask him." She stepped forward, then hesitated, stepping back. "Or—maybe not…" She stepped forward again. "Or maybe I should—."
Soul watched her for a few more moments before impatience got to him. "Just go in if you're going to go in already," he said. "Stop going back and forth!"
"But—," Maka began.
"MAKAAAAAAAAA!"
Maka stopped talking, springing back to avoid Spirit with an ease born out of decades of experience. Her father came careening down the hallway, arms outstretched as he ran past her. He skidded to a stop when he realized that she had moved, quickly backtracking and embracing her before she could react.
"Maka," Spirit said, tears in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You never get into any trouble—except for marrying him." The last was said with a backwards glare at Soul and with a vehemence that would have been alarming had the white-haired Death Scythe not already been used to it. Soul just rolled his eyes, one hand in his jacket pocket as he turned away from Spirit. Maka scowled, pushing his face away from her and doing her best to struggle out his hold.
"Papa, stop—," she said. "You're being embarrassing—."
"No, wait—," said Spirit, as Maka finally managed to extricate herself from his hold, turning to leave. "I just wanted to tell you a story. You're not going to believe what happened last night."
Maka gave him a suspicious look, frowning at him, but he seemed to have composed himself slightly now, and was even straightening out his tie. She gave him a hesitant nod. "O…kay," she said. "What's the story?"
"Well, I was at a bar last night—."
She raised her hand, cutting him off there. "Say no more," she said. "Soul?"
Soul nodded, stepping around Spirit to follow her as Maka began walking away. Spirit's eyes widened and he reached forward, grabbing her wrist. "Wait—that's not the story," he said. "I was at the bar, and then—."
"And then?" Maka asked, looking back.
Spirit blinked at her and then trailed off, tears filling his eyes again. He grabbed her head, pulling her into a hug that was almost a chokehold. "Makaaaa!" he wailed. "I'm so happy that you've never had to go to a doctor for alcohol poisoning!"
Maka stared flatly as Spirit started shaking her head, tears dripping onto her shoulder. She raised her hand.
"Maka Chop!"
Spirit continued to wail, hands clasped over the top of his head as he fell to his knees. Maka straightened her blouse with a huff, turning away from him.
"I don't understand," said Clark. "What does he have that I don't have?"
"Confidence?" Morgan suggested, taking a sip of her soda.
"Self-esteem?" asked Rei, setting his burger down.
"A fashion sense?" suggested Ayame, grinning as she dipped a fry into her milkshake.
"Umm…" said Vayne, "…the ability to transform his body parts into weapons?"
Clark poked at his burger, looking miserable. "Thanks guys. Really."
"Anytime," said Rei, taking another bite. He frowned at Ayame, who popped the fry into her mouth with a grin before picking up another. "Fries in your milkshake?"
"Yeah, it's good," said Ayame, waving a fry at him. "Here. Try it."
"I don't know…" Rei began.
"She's right," said Vayne, grinning as he snatched a fry off the table and leaned over towards Ayame's milkshake.
She quickly snatched it out of the way, glaring at him. "Get your own!"
"Sorry," said Vayne, giving her a sheepish smile and settling back into his seat. "Thought you were offering."
"I was," said Ayame, scowling at him. "But not to you."
She extended the shake towards Rei. He hesitated, then reached forward, barely dipping a fry in. It tasted surprisingly good, actually, the sweetness of the milkshake combining nicely with the saltiness of the fry. He blinked in surprise, and Ayame gave him a smug smile.
"Good?" she asked.
"Not…bad," he reluctantly admitted, going back to his own meal. The five of them ate in silence for a few moments before Clark spoke up.
"So," he said. "France. What happened there?"
Rei looked up from his phone, frowning at Clark. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering, noticing that both Morgan and Ayame were looking expectantly at him. "We ran into some trouble at Notre Dame," he said. "Someone killed our target and tried to kill us. We found out later that he's some kind of wanted criminal."
"Oh yeah, I heard about him," said Vayne, taking a long sip of his soda. "Wasn't he the dude that killed his own weapon or something?"
"Yeah," said Rei. "Micah Cole. It was two years ago."
The incident in question had made him think back to that time, trying to remember if he had seen or heard anything. It had been the year before he had entered the DWMA, and he thought that his parents had seemed more preoccupied than usual, but he hadn't really paid too much attention to it. Back then, he hadn't really cared much about what his parents were up to, and Maka and Soul didn't usually bring the disturbing aspects of their work home with them. That didn't mean that he wouldn't have found out more if he had just paid more attention, though, a failing that he was kicking himself for now.
Clark blinked, staring at Rei in surprise. "He killed his weapon?" he asked. "Why would he do that?"
Rei shrugged. "Shinigami-sama didn't elaborate," he said.
"Probably snapped, or something," said Ayame, snorting in derision. She tossed a handful of fries into her mouth, washing it down with a swig from her milkshake. "Who knows why people like that do anything?"
Morgan shook her head. "They have reasons," she said, her voice soft from the other end of the table. She wasn't quite looking at them. "People like that don't just…act without cause. Their reasons might not make sense to us, might not even be right, but they exist."
"That doesn't justify it though!" said Ayame, frowning at her.
"I'm not saying it does," said Morgan. "I'm just saying that even evil people have their reasons. And to deny that makes it harder to stop them from hurting anyone else."
Silence fell after that, the group sharing tentative glances with each other. Morgan, apparently aware that she had just made the situation uncomfortable, pushed her plate away from her and sat up straighter. Vayne attempted to break the silence.
"Still," he said, a nervous expression on his face as he looked around at the group. "It worked out, right? And the higher-ups will catch this guy. I mean, they're already on it, aren't they?"
"Yeah," said Rei, "Of course."
Ayame nodded. "There's no way that third-rate cardcaptor could stand up to people like my dad," she said. "Someone will get him, don't worry about that."
"He's probably on Shinigami's List like fifty times," said Vayne off-handedly, taking another drink of soda.
"Eighty-eight, actually," said Clark, putting down his phone. "I just checked. Did you know there's an app for that?"
"So yeah," said Vayne. "It'll work out. Right, Morgan?"
Morgan looked up slowly from her plate, blinking at Vayne. It took a while for Vayne's words to break through her reverie, and when they did, she didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded anyway.
"Yeah," she said. "It will."
A light rain had started to fall over the countryside, droplets of water getting caught in the boughs of the tree above him as he considered the DWMA base in the valley below them. Mordred folded his arms, watching it. To call it a base would be generous in this case, he thought. It was really little more than an outpost, but it would be ideal for their purposes.
If Micah could have been counted on to do anything right, the DWMA would at this moment be chasing shadows, pointing fingers at each other instead of uniting to track down the very credible, real threat that Micah now presented them with. An inconvenience to be sure, but there were other ways to make a point. Besides, if his intelligence was correct, this little outpost was likely harboring a much larger prize.
He turned towards the woman who stood next to him, watching the outpost with the same blank expression with which she studied anything. Even dressed entirely in black, studying the outpost with a dull, empty expression, she looked like a doll. Certainly younger than she actually was. Long blond hair ran across her shoulders and down her back, the only spot of color she was wearing at this moment. She blinked rain out of cool gray eyes, but otherwise did not move.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked, unsure of why he was still trying to make conversation with her. Perhaps the emptiness unnerved him on some level, but to think about that for too long would be unproductive. "You understand how important this is, don't you? Micah has already failed in his task. I trust that you won't do the same."
Silence, and then she nodded slowly, her expression still unchanged. Mordred was a sorcerer, nearly a thousand years old now, but he still felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked away from her, turning back towards the base.
"If you understand, go," he said.
She did, seeming to disappear from his sight as she faded into the shadows, making her way down the hill.
Omake
"Oh, so that's what happened," said Soul, scowling at Spirit from over his and Maka's kitchen table. The older Death Scythe held an ice pack to his head, looking mildly affronted as he wrapped up the story about meeting Shelley at the bar. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"
Spirit sniffed. "Well, after I saw how worried Stein was about Shelley, and then I saw Maka there…I just got so emotional about it. You'll understand when the girls are older."
"Yeah, right," said Soul with a snort, leaning back into his chair. "I'm never gonna be the creepy overprotective dad like you."
Maka glanced over at him from where she was walking back into the kitchen. "Well, it's great that you're saying that, Soul, because Cori has a playdate with a boy from her class this weekend."
"What?" asked Soul, his eyes widening as he sat up sharply. "Who is he? Where does he live? Do we know his parents?"
Maka frowned at him. "Why do you want to know?"
"Well, you know, he might be a creep."
"Soul, I'm pretty sure he's eight."
"Eight-year-olds can be creeps!" said Soul, jumping out of his chair as Maka started walking out of the kitchen. He hurried to follow her, hand outstretched. "Wait—Maka—you can't just drop that and leave!"
Spirit smirked, leaning back in his chair. "And so it begins…" he said.
"Stop being creepy!" Soul said, looking back into the room and glaring at him before running off. "Wait, Maka!"
