Stein's head jerked to the right as a shrill scream pierced the suddenly frigid air. His inattention earned him yet another injury, this one dangerously close to his throat. He would have a new set of stitches across his collar bone when they got out of here.

'If we get out of here,' Stein thought bitterly. He could feel his body getting close to its limit, his steps slow and cumbersome. The cold that was inundating the air was only adding to his slowed movements, each breath feeling like a knife in his lungs.

"Stein, focus!"

"Shut up, Spirit."

Spirit's face appeared briefly in the blade and he looked worriedly at Stein as they circled around the witch.

Snow whipped around her, obscuring their sight again, and Stein barely managed to avoid the witch's attack, hearing her at the last possible second. He darted backwards, seeking a way out of the snow.

He found a wall.

His back was pressed against it when he heard Spirit's voice cry his name out. He didn't see the witch until it was too late, he didn't hear her swish through the air near him. He felt her nails though, sharp as daggers and cold as ice, as they tore into his stomach. He felt the stitches that the not-Marie had found the supplies for him to place rip and tear. He felt the disbelief in Spirit's soul as the weapon fell from his suddenly limp grasp.

He didn't feel himself hit the floor.

Maka screamed, pain lacing through her entire body as it felt like she was being roasted alive only to be dropped into a bath of ice water. The pain was excruciating, and Maka felt her grip on consciousness and reality being threatened. The meister fought against the other soul that came with the cold with her entire being, unable to even see the soul's shape.

It terrified her and sent icy chills unrelated to the cold down her spine.

She felt as if she were drowning, the cold seeping into her lungs and freezing them in place. Her chest ached, desperate to draw breath, fire spreading across it. Muffled voices continued their chanting and the pain grew.

She couldn't open her eyes, it felt as if they were frozen shut. Her hands were curled into fists, her back arched as the last of the fire died away only to be replaced by an all-consuming cold. She felt as if she were encased in ice, and fought to open her eyes, afraid suddenly of the cold darkness.

There was a cracking sound and then her eyes opened and Maka wanted to cry in relief as light flooded into her vision. It was only then that she realized that she wasn't the one causing herself to blink. It wasn't her that stood up, and it wasn't her hand that reached out for a robe from a man that stood ready with it.

Maka screamed, but no sound came from her throat. She fought furiously to move her arms or legs, to run from there, but her steps were sedate and unhurried as she walked over to the door that she had entered by and opened it.

It wasn't her laughter that spilled across the hallway, muffled by snow, and it wasn't her voice that called out, "Yuki-Onne, you've done well. Let us see how that one handles losing his lover and his daughter at one time. Kill the one who took my eyes and voice, but bring me him."

Maka was speechless inside her own mind, the witch's words repeating in her mind. "Papa's… lover? Professor Stein?"

Spirit was in front of Stein, the meister unconscious on the ground behind him. Both his arms were blades, held defensively in front of the two of them. He was beginning to despair. Stein was unconscious; the witch was all but invisible in the snow.

Then he heard Maka. Except it wasn't Maka. He knew that before she even spoke, her laughter still echoing in his ears.

His heart fell, and he nearly hung his head in defeat. They had Maka; her body being used by the witch that they had thought was dead and gone. Stein was unconscious behind him. He couldn't defeat the witch in front of him, much less the one that was wearing his daughter's body.

"Maka, Papa's sorry."

"Sen-senpai…"

Spirit's head jerked backwards just as he blocked Yuki-Onne's first attack. Stein was blinking slowly, his hands clasped against his stomach. Spirit could see the blood gushing from between the meister's fingers, and he had to swallow down bile.

He felt the witch's frigid breath against his cheek and he turned back to her, thrusting forwards and nicking her shallowly as he readjusted his stance. He could hear Stein's breathing slow, and when he hazarded a glance back at him, the man's eyes had slipped closed again; his hands limp in his lap and blood flowing from the ragged gash.

Something snapped in the death scythe. Stein was dying. His daughter was being held hostage by a witch that should be dead. There was another witch standing docilely in front of him, a sad look on her face, her hands dangling in front of her and a crystal clear liquid trickling down her arm from the cut.

As Spirit stood completely, his visage determined and his teeth gritted she spoke. "So you understand then, Spirit Death Scythe-sama, that we all do what we must. I must protect my goddess, as you protect him. Do you understand?"

Spirit took a sharp breath in; praying that he wasn't wrong he lunged towards Maka. A smile flitted across Yuki-Onne's face as she stepped in front of his daughter.

His bladed arm pierced her chest, and that clear liquid seeped from around the wound, more of it exploding from her mouth. It landed on his cheek, his chest, some in his hair. It was as cold as ice, but fell from him as if water. Her hand reached up and caught his blade, slicing itself open as she stepped towards him.

Auril was screaming in the background, but Spirit's eyes were wide as Yuki-Onne pulled her body up his bladed arm and pressed her frigid lips against his.

"We all do what we must, Spirit-sama."

Auril screamed in fury as Spirit's blade bit deeply into Yuki-Onne's chest. She began to weave a spell, ready to hurl it at the weapon and end both him and the other in one word when she watched her cohort press her lips against the death scythes.

The blue glow that surrounded the death scythe as Yuki-Onne's body dissipated in a gentle patter of water infuriated Auril. The witch took a step forward, her hands clenched in fists as she glared first at the death scythe, and then at the undefended man propped up against the wall behind the weapon. A smirk twisted her face and she began speaking again, trusting on Spirit's love for his daughter to prevent him from attacking her and disrupting the spell.

Even as she began casting people filed into the hall behind her. Her loyal minions, ready to defend her and she felt her lips stretch into a smirk. She continued speaking even as the glow faded from the death scythe.

Then his arm was through her chest. She looked down at it, her spell lost, surprise on her face. Her minions screamed, running. Blood trickled from her mouth, and she forced herself to look up at the oddly reenergized death scythe. He had moved so fast.

Maka screamed silently, fear and pain and confusion coursing through her. Her Papa was standing in front of her, looking into her eyes, with a sneer on his face as he twisted the blade that was his arm. The same blade that was protruding from her back.

Auril gasped, her eyes meeting the death scythe's, understanding dawning. The glow had been Yuki-Onne's soul. But why?

A/N: One more chapter, then possibly an epilogue. We'll see. Surgery is a no-go. Looking for another way to do it now. Wish me luck :(

By the way: 10 reviews on the last chapter! You all sure know how to make an author happy :3

I hope that you enjoyed this update! Sorry for keeping the fight scenes fairly undetailed, but I didn't want to focus on them that much. Odd, yes? Until next time;

/Lialane