Yay, more chapters! Please review this story. Again, you can tear me goddamn apart, as long as it's constructive. I REALLY need some critique guys, I write fanfiction for a reason. Practice.
Soul sat slumped in the waiting chair. Quite honestly, if anxious, worried people were going to sit in these chairs, couldn't they buy ones with half-decent cushions? His ass felt like he was sitting on a piece of rock.
Ah, but complaining about how uncomfortable his ass is was but a distraction.
No, the real problem was time.
He glanced towards the clock again; it was only three minutes past from when he'd last looked. Maka... The white-haired weapon cast a baleful look around the waiting room. There were only two other people in the hospital's waiting room. The one on his right was an elderly man who was missing all of his hair and most of his teeth. He kept fiddling with a wristwatch on his left arm.
The person to his left was a middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair and caked on makeup. She had her eyes closed with her fingers playing with a golden cross around her neck. Her lips moved just slightly, muttering prayers under her breath.
Soul shifted in his seat. He'd been here for hours, the man had been here before him, and the woman had come in about halfway through. Now they were just sitting here.
Waiting...
Waiting...
Waiting...
Hoping for some kind of news about their loved ones.
The white painted walls of the room were so boring, nothing to look at, nothing to spark his mind, other than Maka's deathly pale face after she'd fainted and he'd carried her here. The sullen nurse behind the glass check-in panel did nothing to help either. Occasionally, she would look at the old man and gently shake her head. More often, though, the brunette nurse would look at the woman and roll her eyes.
Soul hadn't caught her looking at him yet.
The pale, pine door swung open, and everyone straightened. A petite ginger nurse peeked out from the door, freckles dotting her face and green eyes that reminded Soul painfully of Maka's.
"Mr. Evans? Um... Soul Eater Evans? Your friend Maka has woken up."
Soul jumped up and walked briskly to the door, noting the old man's brief smile at his relief, as well as the woman's death-glare at his name. Passing the pine door, he stepped into a sterile, white hall, with the nurse just behind him. She closed the door and walked in front of him.
"This way, sir," she said, smoothing out her scrubs and gesturing for him to follow her down the ER wing. She led him down the hall, passed stricken women holding young children's hands, passed old men and women sitting outside of rooms, staring resolutely forward. They passed men crying, punching the walls, passed joyful new parents holding newborns, and they passed pacing family and friends.
Finally, the nurse led him to a door that remained closed. She smiled at him and Soul relaxed. It wasn't a sad smile, it was one that seemed genuinely happy for him. "Right in here," the nurse said. "She just woke up, and then asked for you immediately." she paused, as if debating over something. "Whatever her wounds were, they seemed to have healed at a miraculous rate. The doctor will probably tell you more, though." The nurse smiled again and left.
Soul reached out, his steady, pianist hand trembling just slightly, until he grasped the shiny brass doorknob. Slowly, painfully sluggish, he turned the knob and swung the door open.
Maka was sitting up on her bed with exuberant green eyes. She smiled when she saw him, with a happy exclamation of his name. "Soul!" she cried, eyes lighting up. OH, she hadn't liked being away from him after that scare...
Soul walked over to the hospital bed and sat gently on its edge. He's missed her too, and his agitation only aggravated what seemed to a merciless headache.
Maka grinned again and held his hand, her tiny fingers interlocking with his.
"Hey, Maka, how are you feeling?" he asked weakly, before his voice threatened to crack. He could feel water in his eyes and mentally growled. Cool guys do not cry. Cool guys do not cry. Cool guys do not cry...
Maka grinned again. "Pretty good, but I just want to go home. We really need to give a report to Shinigami-sama... He'll want to know about...that."
Soul sighed. Yeah, reports, and then school... "Hey, Maka-"
He was interrupted by the the door abruptly opening and slamming shut. A long shadow reached out from the silhouette. "Hello," the shadow said. "I am Dr. Frinz." The doctor walked over to Maka and gave Soul a chance to get a good look at the man. He was of average height, with an average build. His brown hair was trimmed neatly, none of it fell into his eyes, and he wore thick-rimmed glasses over brown eyes.
Overall, he looked to be a rather average man.
Dr. Frinz held out a hand, Maka grasped it, and hesitantly shook it, and Soul did the same. "I was the doctor for your case. Was, because as our checkups have indicated, you are actually healed. We don't necessarily know why, or how, since when your friend brought you in, you had evidence of severe bruising and even plausible fractures along your ribs." The doctor looked down at his clipboard. "You should be a little sore, and should come and see me again in about a week for a follow-up." DR. Frinz paused again, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, we normally wouldn't ship you out so early, but as a patient who seems to be in good health, we can't really afford to keep you here. Rooms are in pretty high demand right now," Frinz stated grimly, casting a glance at the floor and causing a shadow to obscure his face briefly. "Again, I apologize,"
Maka stood up, leaning on Soul for support. "Ah, it's okay. We're from Shibusen, so any more emergencies can be handled by our staff."
"This was just the closest hospital," Soul added with an inclination of his snowy head.
The doctor nodded. "Yes, that seems to be the issue for most of our cases." He paused in thought. "We've been getting a surplus of trauma patients like you, Ms. Albarn. Right now, this is almost a break. Most of the families waiting are already in the ER wing. However your school works, perhaps you could notify whomever takes care of reports like this."
Soul nodded. "If that is all, are we allowed to go?"
The doctor nodded in turn. "Yes, just take this and check out." He handed Maka a slip of paper declaring that she was free to go. "Give this to the nurse at the check-in desk."
Maka smiled and took the paper gently.
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
Maka rested on her bed, clad in flannel pajamas, staring with unfocused eyes at her book. The black ink of the words and the bright white of the paper seemed to just blend together, creating a grey blur. She'd been staring at the same page for about ten minutes now, unseeing, unmoving, mind in a world of its own.
She kept playing over the events of the battle, her memories in an endless repeat.
That feeling of primal terror when she'd glimpsed the vampire's fangs.
That realization that Soul was the one in danger, not her.
That feeling of helplessness as she was tossed away.
That feeling of triumph as her aim came true.
And most, of all, that feeling of loss when Soul's breath stopped.
Maka shivered. Soul... he was alright, wasn't he? He was the one that had died after all. She felt alone right now.
Unprotected.
She wanted to feel someone beside her, someone that cared.
SHe could go se Soul, he wouldn't say no, would he?
No, he wouldn't, but that would just be so awkward... Hell to that, they'd been through worse! No, the reason that Maka wasn't with Soul right now was that she was scared of rejection. Rejection that wouldn't come, surely, but still, it was there...
But what, Maka wondered, was she scared of being rejected?
Certainly not a plea for comfort.
Certainly not a gesture of friendship.
No, Maka was scared of something more being rejected.
Her eyes widened, and she stirred from her comatose position. Did she... love... Soul?
No, she couldn't, no...
Denial's the first step, Maka...
Yes.
She supposed that she could love Soul. Maka stood up, setting her book down on her nightstand and grabbing her pillow. Quietly, she walked to her door and opened it. She placed a foot outside her doorway, and then, just as quickly, snatched it back in.
No, she couldn't...
Stop it.
Yes, she could.
Taking a deep breath, Maka steeled her nerves. SHe couldn't really be sure that she loved Soul, right? Maybe it was just a post-traumatic ordeal feeling.
But, then again, a little voice whispered to her, maybe it's always been there...
Slowly, Maka made her way down the hall to Soul's room. Step by step, and painfully aware of the soft thuds her footsteps made, Maka walked. Finally, she arrived right outside of the the door. She breathed in, closed her eyes, and opened the door.
Soul sat hunched over his desk inside, his hands fisted in his hair. Maka could only see his back, but she knew something was wrong. There was a stiffness in him that was not his usual posture, not his lazy slouch.
Soul groaned, and grit his teeth together against the blooms of pain hammering in his head. The throbs kept in time with the beating of his heart, and were slowly spreading elsewhere.
His jaw ached. His eyes burned. His throat was dry. Even his shinigami-damned fingers hurt.
"Soul?" Maka asked. Her partner turned towards her with slitted eyes, narrowed against pain. "Soul!" she cried and hurried over to him.
Soul closed his eyes again and sighed. "M-maybe less sh-shouting?" he squeezed out painfully, tightening his muscles in agony. Maka immediately closed her mouth, the words she'd been about to say dying in her throat.
"Yes," she said softly, "of course." She closed the distance between them. "Soul," Maka said quietly, "you should lay down."
"I w-won't exactly arg-gue." Soul's voice cracked as a particularly nasty wave of pain hit him. He gasped and grabbed his head again. "Y-you'll have t-to help me, though," he ground out. Maka wordlessly grabbed his shoulders and helped to pull him up. She slung one of his arms around her shoulders and braced herself for his weight. She took a deep breath and carried him over the four steps to his bed. Carefully, she helped him lay down.
Maka crawled in next to him. He stiffened, but otherwise showed no outward reaction. Gently, Maka lifted his head and place it on her chest. She began to rub small circles down his back with one hand, and the other went to rest in his snowy hair. Soul breathed out a sigh through his nose, and then relaxed.
Maka smiled.
Aww... cutesy fluffness.
AGain, review, people! It's author-fuel! And the more errors you can fix or see, the better!