A/N: Been trying to spit this fic out for about a year now. Finally finished.
Maka scrunched her eyes closed in an effort to will herself back to sleep. The bright Nevada sun was streaming through the space in the blinds that didn't quite close all the way, and it was landing right on her eyes. She groaned and scooched up further in the bed, a hand finding it way to Soul's chest. It crept up, through the thin patch of hair he had, and over to where his heart was, and stopped. Maka frowned, eyes still closed.
What in Death's name was that?
The skin beneath her fingers felt puckered and ragged on the edges, with an abnormally smooth center. It felt like a scar, about an inch in width and going straight over his heart. Maka was certain Soul didn't have a scar. She been up close and personal with his chest recently as well, no later than late last night or early this morning. (She didn't check the time, she'd been rather preoccupied.) Her eyes still closed Maka ran her finger and thumb along it, trying to discover what it was.
"If you keep doing that, Maka, we aren't going to end up leaving this bed until noon." Soul's voice was shockingly close to her ear.
"Good morning. What the hell is wrong with your chest?" Maka replied, finally opening her eyes. Soul was staring back at her, red eyes still hazy from sleep.
"Huh? What do you mean what's wrong with my chest? You seemed okay with it last night." He smirked at her.
"No, take off your shirt, I want to see." Maka demanded. If nothing else was wrong, it would still be a nice way to start the morning. Soul sighed and sat up in bed with a groan. In a quick motion he pulled from the bottom hem, up and over his head.
"See, it's -"
"Oh my god Soul! What the hell?" Maka sat up in horror, staring wide eyed at the scar that crossed from his left shoulder all the way down his right hip. It was almost in a straight line, and the stitches were wide but neat. It was at least a year old, the skin pale and tight. She reached out to touch it, placing her hand over his heart and moving downward to where it ended, curled over his hip. Maka scrambled out of the bed and turned on the overhead lights. Soul was staring down at himself, mouth wide open and hands trembling as he carefully touched the scar.
"Wha- what the hell is - I don't - I mean I can't -" Soul looked up at Maka, red eyes filled with confusion and fear. Maka shook her head wordlessly, never taking her eyes from the mark. In the bright light it was somehow much worse. She could see exactly where he had been stitched together.
It was something she had always feared, coming to pass.
Had passed. The scar was old.
At sometime in their past Maka had failed her partner. The knowledge stole the air from her lungs and made her feel sick with shame.
"Maka." Soul's voice was brought her back to reality. "Uh. Just breath okay? Its fine. I'm here and it's all good." Soul wrapped his arms around her. His soul reached out to her, trying to comfort hers.
"Soul. I- I can't remember how you got that scar." She admitted into his shoulder. There were so many other problems with this situation but if Maka tried to go through them all, they wouldn't be leaving the room until dusk.
"It's okay. I probably got it in some really cool motorcycle accident that had nothing to do with you."
Maka laughed weakly at Soul's attempt at humor. She felt her stomach curl and wither at the idea. She rubbed her finger over the top of the scar again.
Someone, somewhere had hurt her partner. Maka's fist clenched at her side.
Someone, somewhere had to pay.
Eventually Soul and Maka got out of bed again, properly this time. She was still dwelling on the scar when they made breakfast.
"Stein." Maka looked up from frying eggs. Soul looked around in alarm.
"Oh jesus, where?" Maka flicked her spatula at him.
"Not here. I'm talking about the scar Soul. Maybe he was the one who put it there."
Soul raised an eyebrow. "You think Stein dissected me?" Maka shrugged and flipped the eggs in the pan. "I dunno, maybe. Maybe when you got injured he was the one who did the surgery." She sighed and blew the bangs out of her face. "There's literally a hundred different things that might have happened. I'm just trying to consider them all."
Soul shrugged again and Maka frowned. How could he just act like he didn't care? It looked like someone had tried to cut him in half!
As Maka was setting the table Blair wandered in, rubbing her eyes and still wearing her perfume from last night.
"Goodmorning kittens!" She grabbed a piece of bacon from the pan and crunched down it, ignoring Soul's hiss. "Have a good night?" She smirked. Maka took a sip from her coffee, hiding the heat in her face from Blair's knowing expression.
The magical cat reached down for another piece of Soul's bacon but then stopped.
"What's on your shoulder?" Her voice had dropped the cutesy sing song quality. Before Soul could answer or move, she roughly grabbed the neckline and jerked it aside. Blair stared at the scar, slitted eyes wide.
"Oh kitten. Who did this to you?" She touched the tip of it and hissed. Her ears flattened and her tail puffed out. Her eyes widened as she looked up at Maka who was sitting frozen. "It's cursed!"
"What? Cursed with what?" Maka stood up, chair flying back.
Blair's sharp nails dig into Soul's shoulder. "I can't tell but there's something familiar about it." Her tail waved back and forth. "It feels like I should know it but I don't."
"Witch?" Soul asked, prying her hand off.
"No. Not quite. It's like it's from something," Her eyes darted back and forth. "Corporeal. Not magic but something related."
Maka and Soul looked at each other.
"We need to go see Stein." Maka said firmly.
Soul looked down at his plate then back up. "I haven't finished breakfast."
"Soul, this is serious. We need to go find Stein."
"Just lemme-" Soul took one look at Maka's face and sighed, standing up. "I'll just get the keys for the bike." He turned around and headed out of the kitchen. After a moment he stuck his head back in. "Blair, you leave some that bacon for me!"
The once barren and terrifying yard of Doctor Franken Stein was beginning to sprout patches of grass and the dead tree that used to be in the front of the door was gone. The stump had a ceramic pot with flowers perched on top.
"You know, this place isn't nearly as bad during the day." Soul said, kicking the stand for the bike out. Maka hopped off and started marching across the yard. Soul sighed and followed her. Hurricane Maka strikes again.
He caught up with her just before Maka could knock on the door.
"Look Maka, we don't even know if Stein will know anything about this, so just-" Maka started knocking on the door, "or just keep going. That's good too." Soul muttered the last part and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Soul can you take this seriously?" Maka fidgeted. "We need to figure out what happened to you."
Before he could retort the stitched up door opened.
Marie had Hamlet perched on her hip, and was still in bunny slippers and pajama pants.
"Hello?" Her eye brightened at the sight of her former students. "Good morning Maka, Soul."
"Hi Marie. Hello Hamlet." Maka wiggled her fingers at Hamlet and the baby gurgled at her, one fist tangled in Marie's pony tail.
Soul waved awkwardly from behind Maka.
"Uh, is Stein here?" He asked.
Marie smiled. "Yes." She rolled her eye fondly. "You're lucky to catch him on a day where he's awake before ten. What's up?"
Maka fiddled with the edge of her skirt. "We just need to ask him a question about something."
"Oh." Marie nodded, then smirked. "Is it, personal?"
Maka blushed and Soul prayed for Kid to be kind and take his soul.
"Yes, but not like that!" Maka hurriedly assured her. Marie was still smiling mischievously as she let them in. Soul was struck with the smell of formaldehyde and flowers.
Something in the back of his mind snickered.
"Here, would you mind taking him for a second, Maka? Franken and I agreed no babies in the lab until he can reach the operating tables." Marie handed the baby over to Maka.
"Uh, sure Marie," Maka stuttered out, adjusting her grip on Hamlet who whined a little, head twisting to watch Marie descend the steps. "Oh no shhh shhh. It's okay, she'll be right back, okay?" She bounced slightly, trying to comfort him.
Soul looked around at the living room, an odd mish mash of stitches, sunflowers, and baby toys spread all over. He could smell strong tea and coffee from the kitchen.
It was weird to see it so homey.
Hamlet was still huffing slightly in Maka's arms. His green eyes blinked, as he tried to decide if he was alarmed enough to cry. Soul scooped up a stuffed bunny and gently wiggled it in his face. Hamlet started smiling and giggling.
"Hey, you're pretty good at that." Maka smiled at him. Soul rubbed the back of his neck.
"I had a lot of baby cousins. They didn't mind the shark teeth."
Maka batted her eyes at him, smirking. "They aren't the only one."
"Get a room."
Soul jumped. How could someone around six foot six be so quiet in steel toed boots? Maka was five foot one and she still made a hell of a lot of noise when she walked around in hers.
Hamlet squealed happily, making grabby hands for Mari, who took him back from Maka. Stein gently patted him on the back before turning his gaze on the them.
"Marie say the two of you needed an aphrodisiac."
"Fraken!" Marie gently slapped his shoulder. "I didn't. Death Scythe's honor." She promised sincerely, heading into the kitchen.
Stein grinned widely. "She didn't. Still, I wanted to see who jumped for it." He sat down on the couch, moving a toy out from under his back.
"What can I do for you, on this early morning?"
Maka, still blushing pink, cleared her throat.
"There's a scar on Soul's chest, and we don't remember how he got it. I think it might have something to do with you."
Stein nodded absently. "Well go ahead and show me."
Soul blushed. "Here? Now?"
Stein shrugged. "Yes." Soul sighed and finally took off his shirt, balling it up in his fist.
For a silent moment, Stein simply stared, eyes furrowed. He absently patted his pockets for his cigarettes, before remembering he didn't smoke any more.
"You're right, those are my stitches, but I can't remember when I operated on you, Soul." Stein admitted slowly.
"Do you think it was when you were going mad?" Maka blurted out.
A muscle in Stein's jaw twitched.
"Possibly."
"No." Marie interrupted, casually moving Hamlet from one hip to the other, coming back into the room. "I was with Stein the entire time. And I'd remember if Soul had needed that kind of invasive surgery."
Soul shifted. "Can I put my shirt back on?"
"Yes. You're offending my delicate sensibilities." Stein said.
"So you don't know how Soul would have gotten the scar either?" Maka asked.
Stein twisted his screw then shrugged. "Unfortunately, yes."
Maka slumped, and Soul looped an arm around her shoulders. He could tell how much it got under her skin. She hated failing him in any form and Soul could never quite get the words right to make her understand that he was grateful to even stand in her presence.
"Thanks for taking a look, Professor." Soul said.
Stein waved a hand.
"Why don't the two of you stay for breakfast, at least. You can hold Hamlet again." Marie held out the giggly baby.
Maka smiled thinly. "How could we refuse an offer like that?"
Sitting at the stainless steel kitchen table, Soul finally got his coffee.
Even if it did have a rather soapy aftertaste and was served in a glass beaker. He made a mental note to get 'Star leave some mugs on their front steps. (Unbroken, this time.)
Maka was trying to get Hamlet to clap his hands and his heart was all gooey at the sight. Damn him for being so sentimental.
"Good job, Hamlet. Who's a smart boy?" Maka cooed. "That's right, you are!" From behind her, Stein grimaced slightly and Soul got the feeling he wasn't a fan of baby talk. But Hamlet squealed happily, clumsily smacking his hands together.
"Did we ever tell you about the name we had picked out if Hamlet had been a girl?" Marie was leaning against the counter, sipping her own tea. She smiled. "It was Shelly Gretchen-"
"My mother's name," Stein interjected.
Marie nodded. "Yes. Shelly Gretchen C-" Her face went curiously blank. "C- C- um." She tilted her head. "You know, this is going to sound ridiculous, but I've completely forgotten the middle name we picked." She looked over at Stein, head slightly tilted.
Stein stared into his coffee. "So have I. Curious."
They all looked at each other, the sudden realization that this was no accident spilling across their faces like sunlight over the ground.
"Maybe it was Medusa?" Maka suggested. She and Soul were walking home, Soul guiding the bike, sheepishly apologising to the other sidewalk pedestrians.
"I don't think she ever got close enough to me to do this. Arachne was the only one we fought up close."
"Are you sure it wasn't when we killed her?"
Soul stared at her blankly. "What? We didn't kill her. Wasn't that Stein and Marie?'
Maka shook her head. "No, I remember killing her."
"Maka, I don't have Medusa's soul. You can trust me on this one, I'd definitely remember killing Medusa."
Maka stretched her mind back. There was a constant itch in the back of her mind. Medusa definitely had something to do with it. But if she and Soul hadn't ever fought Medusa, how could she have hurt him?
Maka sighed.
"Hey." Soul touched her arm gently. "It's okay. We're gonna figure this out together, alright? Just...relax."
Maka tried for a smile. He was being sweet. "When did you get so optimistic?"
He grinned and his pointed teeth glinted slightly. "'Bout the time you got all pessimistic. We'll go home and try to think of something else."
Blair was in cat form when they got back to the apartment. She was in a patch of sunlight, eyes closed and shedding purple hair everywhere.
Soul checked the pan hopefully, the scowled. No bacon.
Why did he even bother?
Maka sat down the couch, absently grabbing one of the paperbacks that littered the coffee table. Soul settled for one of the cold pieces of toast and flopped down beside her. Maka casually put her legs on his lap and Soul felt his body temperature go up about a million degrees.
He'd just barely flipped on the television before Maka abruptly snapped the book closed and lept over the back of the couch, barely missing kicking Soul in the face.
Soul sighed and flipped the television back off. He listened as Maka rushed to the bathroom and started using the mirror.
"Forty-two, forty-two, five-sixty-four, every time you want to knock and Death's door."
Kid?
The bell rang eight times before anyone picked up.
"Hello? Oh Maka. What's wrong?"
Soul craned his neck over the back of the couch, catching a corner of Kid's face.
"Kid! Hi, I have a quick question. Do you remember who killed Medusa?"
There was a long moment of silence.
"Oddly enough, it's escaping my mind."
Maka made a sound of surprise and dismay.
"You don't remember either? Well do you remember how Soul got a scar on his chest?"
"...Soul has a scar on his chest? I don't remember that at all."
"No one does," Maka sighed.
"I'm sorry Maka I didn't know, but I have to go." There was a faint static buzz as Kid hung up and Maka sighed again. She sadly came back over to couch and sat back down.
Soul wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.
"I just don't know what else to do, Soul."
He stroked up and down her back. "Look, maybe if nobody remember Maka, it means it doesn't matter."
"It just pisses me off, Soul. There's someone out there who hurt you and I don't know who it was."
"Shhh. Hey if it was Medusa, she's dead. If it was Arachne, we defeated her. Maybe it was just someone that didn't even matter."
"But how could it not matter?" Maka asked, wrapping her arms around his waist, and laying her head on his shoulder. "They hurt-"
"Look Maka. I know. But it doesn't hurt and I never noticed it. I don't even remember getting hurt. And we have each other. Let's just…" Soul shrugged. "Forget about it."
The sun set over Death City and the dark moon came out. Everyone remembered how Miester Maka and Death Scythe Soul Eater had sealed the Kishin Asura on the moon.
Maka sometimes woke up in the dead of night and stared at the scar, straining her mind to try and recall who had done this to Soul.
Stein stayed up into the late hours, the constant buzz of the letter 'C' in his mind. Was it important, did it matter?
Kid stared at the moon from the Death Room, praising it for keeping what they all feared at bay.
The moon sailed overhead, dark and placid as a dead lake.
The only guarantee in life is death, but the only thing worse than death itself, is being forgotten. - Trent Thomas
A/N: Dedicated to cronaguy, what2do, whoever the you are. Thank you for dragging my favorite character through the dirt, you prat. Thank you for making so many uncomfortable and afraid that no one writes a character you claimed to like. Thank you for writing them so out of character that no one wants to associate with them any more. Thank you for dragging everything I do down with you. I hope you enjoy your time in the pit. I'll see you there.