A/N: This was not actually song inspired-it was written as a fic war prompt fic, but it is dark and so, doesn't fit into my fluff collection. Since this song fits it well it ended up here. The song belongs to NIN, Soul Eater belongs to Ohkubo, the prompt was from Nessdegree, but the angst is all mine. THIS IS SAD EATER-THERE IS IMPLIED CHARACTER DEATH. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

We're In This Together:

The further I fall, I'm beside you
As lost as I get, I will find you
The deeper the wound, I'm inside you
For ever and ever I am a part of You

He was slicing into her. Her weapon. Her partner. The love of her life. His face was split in a malicious grin as his scythe blade cleft through flesh and bone, ripping into her chest, ripping her apart. He stood over her, his blade arm dripping blood, her blood, onto her prone form, her eyes hazy as she gazed up at him.

"Why?" she choked out around the blood filling her lungs.

"Because I was sick of being stuck with you." His voice was casual and he shrugged, the grin becoming feral as his blade came for her again, this time aiming for her throat. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end. She had always been willing to die for him-she just hadn't thought he'd be the one to kill her.

Her eyes flew open as she awoke, gasping for air. A dream. It had been a dream. She could only pray that it would not be her reality in a few hours because the truth was, she didn't know what she would find when she got home.

It was only two days. Just two lousy days. She hadn't seen her mother in years and Soul had been doing so well. She thought he had conquered the blood, thought her presence didn't matter anymore. She had been wrong. So very, very wrong. They both had.

He'd assured her he'd be fine, assured her so forcefully that she should go, that she must go, that what else could she do? He always put her first. Her mother was in tears on the phone, begging her presence. Maka didn't know why, had not been able to piece together the truth amidst the broken sobs, so she had gone. Absent or not, it was still her mother and she missed her desperately. She hadn't heard her mother cry since the night she left Spirit. Then again, she had only heard her voice a handful of times since that night. How could she have left her weapon for a mother who was long since gone? She never did get to see Kami, to find out what was wrong. She didn't care, couldn't. The call had come the moment she touched down in Japan. They needed her back. Something was wrong with Soul.

A witch, they said. A witch who followed Asura. A witch who wanted vengeance, who had watched and waited and finally struck when her soul couldn't protect his. They believed her spell had amplified the black blood, had strengthened the madness, had struck so hard and so fast that he had been unable to defend against it. The enemy attacked brazenly, wanted them to know who had done this and why, as she cackled madly on the steps of Shibusen. The witch hurled a spell, targeted him alone, and his friends had watched in horror as he contorted, twisted, changed, and then began to rampage. He'd sliced into dozens with abandon before finally being restrained. Three people were dead, cut clean in half. A weapon and two meisters from the NOT class in the wrong place at the wrong time. It had taken Black*Star, Kid, and Kilik to restrain him in the end, the blood and his sound manipulation as a deathscythe almost impossible to contain. They had thought they might have to kill him to end it. Only Star prevented it, bodily smothering him as scythe blades sliced into him, Kid and Kilik taking the chance to finally knock him clean out. He'd been bound, and then magically bound, and was howling in a room somewhere in the depths of the school. Kid had pulled no punches in telling her what happened, telling her all. He was sorry, he said, so sorry, but she had to be prepared.

Mounting the steps of the school, fear clinched her heart. Maka had faced kishin beyond counting. She had faced Crona, Arachne, Giriko, Asura himself. She had faced hurt and loss. In all those battles, she had never felt fear like this. Only that time in the Book of Eibon had come close, and he had pulled her back from the brink there, he had been there as he was always there. Now he was the one who was lost, he was the nightmare she must face, she was the one who must fix this or die trying. There was no other choice; she couldn't lose him. He was her weapon. She should have been there to stop this, and she wasn't. This was her fault and she would fix it. She would.

A crowd gathered as she reached the top of the steps, their eyes full of pity. Her friends immediately surrounded her, ushering her in, ushering her to the death room where Kid waited. They all looked terrible—beaten, bandaged, broken. She hardly noticed. She took it all in numbly, only half aware when they spoke, only half present. Most of her was with Soul already. She had sought his wavelength and what she found, what she felt… she would not accept. She was his meister. She would make this right. Kid was saying something she hadn't the will to understand. She just looked at him blankly for a moment, then spoke.

"Take me to him. Please." It was almost a whisper, but he heard and nodded, motioning to Tsubaki and Black*Star. Each of them took an elbow to lead her while the others followed. They were all there—to support her or to stop him if things got out of hand. Probably both.

Dozens of flights of steps later, deep within the bowels of the Shibusen, she felt his soul reaching for hers, desperately seeking connection. Her own soul responded almost automatically, straining at the bounds to reach him, but she forcibly restrained it. Not yet. It would come to that, but not yet.

They reached an iron door and all was eerily quiet. Then she heard a voice, so like his voice yet not.

"Maaaaa-kaaaaa. I know you're ouuuuut thereeeere!" he sang out with quiet malice. The pull of his soul was almost overpowering, so familiar, so foreign.

"Open it," she looked back to Kid, who nodded. Kilik moved forward and slid the key into the lock, pulling back the door to the darkened room. The light that slanted in from the hall fell across him and she choked down a gasp. He was chained hand, foot, and neck to the wall and as his blood red eyes fell on her, his face split into a wide sneer.

"Aren't you gonna come tell me what to do, my master?" He leered at her. "Come bash me with a book and have me lick your fuckin' shoe, eh? Come on Maaaaakaaaaa~!" he sang out, his tone deceptively playful. "I wanna lick your shoooeeee~!" She stood, dumbstruck, as he licked his lips suggestively then bit down, black blood flowing down his chin as his too sharp teeth sliced apart his lower lip. Finally, she tore her eyes away, then back to Kid, ignoring the howl of laughter from within the room.

"Leave us," she said sternly. Kid began to shake his head but she looked him in the eyes. Her gaze was firm, strong, yet there were tears behind the strength she radiated but could not feel. He let out a long breath and nodded.

"Black*Star and Tsubaki will stay at the end of the hall." His tone brooked no argument. "The rest of you—follow me."

In a moment it was done, and as Maka stepped into the room, she was finally alone with him.

"Soul," she breathed as she approached, reaching out a tentative hand.

"Maka," he mocked breathily, mimicking her tone. "I've been waiting for you. 'Bout time you showed up. You're usually so damned anal retentive about being on time. Actually," His smile, full of wicked promise, did not reach his eyes. Those were empty. "I'd love to find out just what your anus could retain." He laughed, low at first, then trailing into higher pitched peels and she felt her heart squeeze inside her chest. Why had she left him? Why? The witch, the demon inside of him, they had won. She had to stop this.

She stepped closer and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively, the playful movement contrasting sharply with the dark blood trailing down the lower half of his face.

"So you wanna find out too, eh tiny tits? We could explore every bit of you together, figure out how much you can… mmmm… retain." He leered down at her from his chains on the wall. "Can't guarantee things won't get a bit messy," he bared his teeth meaningfully, "but then, that's half the fun."

She ignored his taunts, taking another step towards him. His soul reaching for hers was almost overwhelming and as she inched her hand forward, his eyes now only two feet from her own, his leer became a frown.

"Always wanted to, ya know? But Miss Broken, Miss Prude, Miss I-hate-all-men-don't-you-dare-touch-me-you-filthy-animal, you were never gonna let me, were you? You never wanted a real partner—you were never gonna see me that way." His tone had become quiet and bitter. "You and your damned daddy issues. All you wanted was a fucking dog, to heel and fetch and follow your every whim. I was never gonna be anything but your fuckin' dog, was I Maka?" His eyes were still empty, but his words stung. It hurt. It hurt so badly. She'd always meant to tell him, always meant him to know, but it was so hard, she had been so afraid. Why had she been so damned afraid?

She reached her hand up the few more inches to touch his face, her soul reaching for his simultaneously.

"Soul resonance," she whispered as she felt his soul rush in to engulf her own. She blinked once, his leering face all she could see, then her consciousness shifted and fell and she was facing a thick black curtain. It was… it was made of blood. Black blood. She could sense Soul on the other side and pushed her way through without hesitation; she was in the black room, exactly where she needed to be.

The room looked just as it always did, the phonograph, the chair, the door to where they piano would surely be. Only, the floor was black now and the chair's occupant wasn't the Oni, but Soul himself, strapped down with black bands. His eyes raised to meet hers and he whispered, so quietly she might not have heard it if they weren't in his very soul.

"No. Maka, no…" His face was a mask of desperation.

"It's okay, Soul. I'm going to get you out of here and everything is going to be okay. Alright?"

He just shook his head.

"You shouldn't be here, Maka. You can't be here. You don't understand, Oni he—and that witch. You have to go!" He was becoming frantic, straining against the dark bonds that bound him to the chair. Maka approached him, crouching to meet his eyes.

"I'm going to make this better," she reached out to touch his face and he stopped thrashing, leaning into her touch, her eyes looking up at her. This time they weren't empty; they were filled with despair.

"You can't."

"Soul—" she didn't know what she was going to say, but she needed him to believe. In her. In them.

"Not this time, Maka. This spell—you can't break it. The witch took over the Oni and she rules here. Her and the darkest part of my soul. She knows about your anti-demon wavelength and protected against it. There's nothing you can do. You need to get out of here—please! After what she made me do, after everything, I can't lose you, too. Please!" His voice had cracked and she could see the tears threatening to spill over, feel the anguish within him.

"We'll figure it out, Soul. Together. Trust me, okay?" He just shook his head and the suddenly his eyes went glassy.

"Soul?" she questioned, fear clawing at her painfully. But his eyes sharpened and he looked at her. The pain she saw there was crushing.

"It's too late. The resonance….it…she has us both." The bonds dissolved before her eyes and Soul lunged up, surprising her by taking her into his arms and clasping her to him fiercely. "It's too late." He repeated, his breath hot against her ear. She felt one hand stroke her hair, even as the other held her to him.

"I'm sorry, Maka. I'm so sorry."

"Soul, what? I don't…" she shook her head against his chest, then pulled her gaze up to his. His tears had finally broken, falling freely down his cheeks to pool beneath the collar of his shirt, soaking it through.

"Try to leave," he said quietly. She shook her head in response, but his hands grasped her shoulders firmly.

"Please, just try." Before she could protest, his soul shoved at hers and she found herself back in her own body. She had been ignoring it until now and what she saw made he gasp. She was wielding Soul, out on the steps of Shibusen, surrounded by her teammates, attacking them with abandon. The black dress was on her here, too, and the blood lashed out indiscriminately with every swipe of her scythe. She felt the mad cackle rise in her throat and willed it to stop without effect, hearing her own manic laughter echo in her ears. She had no control. She was but a spectator in her own body and her will held no sway. As the fear, the utter hopelessness, of what had happened, what was even now happening flooded through her, she let her consciousness fall back into the black room and felt her own tears fall fast and hot, Soul using his hand to raise her face to his.

"You see now?" he whispered. She nodded, her sense of utter defeat mirrored in the eyes of her weapon. She was lost. They both were. She sank to her knees and he sank with her, his arms around her tightening once more.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against him.

"Don't be. You didn't do this. It was that fucking witch and my fucking black blood, not you."

"But if I hadn't—" He pulled her back again to look at her.

"You. Didn't. Do this."

"So what do we do now? We can't just… sit here. We should do something!" He sighed and shook his head.

"We could try, but we'd be wasting our time and energy. We've lost. All we can do now is wait until someone outside kills us—or we kill everything we love."

"Not us," she whispered.

"May as well be," he couldn't mask the bitter anger, at himself, at the witch, at everything. She knew he was right, could feel the truth in her own soul. They were bound here by blood and magic and his very soul, and this time, her soul could not change that. It was over. It was over and he didn't even know the truth, didn't even know everything.

"Soul I…" Why had she never told him? Why had she never given them that chance? She knew she was their only bar, her and her damned insecurity and fear and now it was too late for them. She didn't know if she should say it now, but her feelings overwhelmed her. When else could she say it but now? "…I mean, there's something…" she began again. It was so hard to find words, so crushing was this despair. "…you… you were always the most important person to me, Soul. You were always the one person who mattered. You—"

"I know," he said quietly, softly kissing her cheek. "I love you, too. I always have, but I think you know that already." She colored, but nodded.

"I'm so sorry. I waited too long."

"We both did," he said with a resigned sigh. She buried her face back into his chest in response and he kissed her hair.

There was nothing left to say, no reason left to say it. As they both sensed the rampage they caused above, their hearts safe in the eye of the storm, they waited for the end together. It was all they had left to do.