Soul stared into his coffee cup, trying to build up the willpower for another sip. The caffeine would do him a world of good. If it stayed down, that is. Sleep might have helped, but there had been precious little of that. If he never faced a family tragedy after getting wasted again, it would be just fine with Soul. Now that Maka had settled down, and three Aleve had eased the throbbing behind his eyes a little, maybe he could catch a quick nap. He put his cup down, yanked Maka's fluffy yellow throw over his legs, and gingerly eased himself into a prone position. Fuck, his head hurt.
He got precisely six minutes of peace before the pounding started. It beat a counterpoint to the thumping in his brain and was accompanied by loud demands to open the door. He wanted to pull the blanket over his head and ignore it, but that would only prolong the inevitable. The very last person Soul wanted to see right now was Black Star, but the damn banging wouldn't stop unless he did.
"Shut up! I'm coming. Jesus." Soul hollered, forcing himself to his feet. His stomach lurched dangerously, but he managed to answer the door without puking.
"Nobody's at practice or answering their phones. I know the rest of you are wussy losers compared to me but-" Black Star finally registered Soul's face and paused.
"Dude, you look like shit," he finished.
"Black Star! That's not nice!" Tsubaki, reached past him and put a gentle hand on Soul's arm, "Soul, are you okay?"
"We had a bad night," Soul ushered Tsubaki and Black Star into the apartment and collapsed back on the couch. The room took a lap around him, and Soul's stomach rolled again, reminding him to keep movement to a minimum
"What happened?" Black Star asked, "You guys get your asses kicked on a mission?"
"No! I...uh, can't really talk about what happened," Soul replied wearily, "But Maka's skipping school today, and I'm gonna stay home with her."
Tsubaki's look of concern deepened, but Black Star's face lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Little Miss Goodie Two Shoes is skipping? Ha!" he ran to Maka's door and slammed it open, failing to notice the missing doorknob. After her years of high and mighty nagging about skipping school, Maka was going to get a taste of her own medicine.
"Hey loser! You blew off practice, and I hear you're skipping today! What happened to being all perfect? Maybe there's hope for you yet!" he gloated. But Maka didn't rise to his bait, and that's when Black Star knew things were seriously fucked up. She should have been up and yelling by now, not hunching into an ever-smaller ball on her bed. She was pale, and the circles under her eyes were almost as dark as the purple stripes in her old flannel pajamas.
"I can't today. I just...can't," she mumbled.
Black Star tried to think of a response to that and eventually came up with, "Uh, are you sick or something? You look shittier than Soul does."
It took her a couple of tries to get started, but Maka finally managed to tell her oldest friend that Kami was back in Death City and how severely injured she was. Before she finished Black Star was across the room and enveloping her in a smothering hug. Maka felt his soul darken with worry and threw her arms around his neck. Unbelievably, of all things...Black Star...was what she needed. The person who shared her childhood memories; who had called Kami his "Other Mother" when they were growing up. Who'd also felt betrayed when Kami disappeared, even though his swagger prevented him from showing it. That Black Star knew and shared her grief brought Maka comfort that not even Soul's devoted friendship could provide.
"Where has she been? Did you get a chance to talk to her?" Black Star asked. Maka had never experienced such gentleness in him, and it almost snapped her resolution not to break down. Her voice wobbled dangerously when she told him that Kami hadn't had a chance to talk before being rushed into surgery.
The news dredged old childhood memories to the surface for Black Star. Kami reading in the sun while he and Maka played in the Albarns' back yard.
"Look at me! Look!" his six-year-old self had demanded, "I can do ten pushups!"
"That's good, but you can do better. Let me know when you can do twenty, and I'll come and look then," Kami had replied, eyes glued to her book. Black Star could do thirty pushups by the end of the day.
"When can we see her?" he asked Maka.
"I'm going over as soon as Doctor Stein or my dad calls me," she said, swiping at an errant tear, "If they say she's ready for visitors I'll let you know right away."
"You can, you know, cry if you want to," Black Star told her awkwardly, "I won't make fun of you or anything. I won't even tell anyone. Pinky promise."
He held his little finger out, and Maka gave him a watery half-smile, "I'm trying not to be a baby about this. But thanks for the offer." She leaned over to grab a tissue from her nightstand, giving Black Star his first opportunity to look around.
"Where's Kid?" he asked Maka when she'd finished blowing her nose, "In the bathroom?"
Maka shook her head and pressed her lips into a thin line so that they wouldn't tremble when she told him that Kid wasn't around and wouldn't be coming around anytime soon.
Black Star made his, "I don't believe you" face; the one he'd perfected during their childhood obsession with playing "Go Fish'. Maka might be capable of lying about having a purple octopus in her hand, but they weren't four anymore, and this was Kid they were talking about.
"Did you tell him? He acts like the world's ending if you get a bloody nose at practice; there's no way he's gonna let you go through this alone. Not that you're alone; I'm better at being supportive than he'll ever be, but the guy loves you more than he loves breathing. Or stupid symmetry. So where is he?"
He didn't think Maka could look any worse, but she did when she repeated that Kid wouldn't be coming over.
"What, did you guys have a fight?" Black Star chuckled at the sheer improbability of such a thing. Maka nodded in affirmation right before she lost her fight for composure. In a few short hours, she and Kid had gone from being a rock-solid couple bound soul to soul, to separate individuals who weren't speaking to each other. The perfect Kid-and-Maka construct had crumbled, and nothing would ever be the same. The sobs she'd been holding back all night burst out in a wave of hysteria that scared the shit out of Black Star. He'd heard Liz used the term "ugly cry" and suspected this was what she'd meant. He'd never seen anybody cry so hard, not even Tsubaki after she'd been forced to kill her brother, or Nygus when they thought they'd lost Sid. Then again, Tsubaki teared up over sad movies, so he was kind of used to seeing her get emotional, and he'd grown up knowing that Nygus had a soft, gooey center hidden beneath her badass exterior. Maka didn't cry very often, but she was also never one to do things halfway. Having decided to give in to tears, she gave it her all, and it was terrifying. Black Star pulled her into his arms again and felt tears run down his bicep.
"You both have shitty tempers," he said encouragingly, "But whatever happened, you can work it out. I mean, you guys love each other like...like...really a lot. With your mom and stuff, you're probably not thinking straight. I'll tell you what; I'll go to school today even though you and Soul aren't, and I'll bring your homework over."
The offer shocked Maka enough that she could speak almost coherently. "Why are you so...being so nice to me?" she blubbered.
Black Star grinned and tousled her already-wrecked hair, "No honor in being better than somebody who's totally fucked up."
He hugged her again, and a fresh bout of wailing began. Tsubaki appeared, and her usual sweet gentleness was not in evidence.
"Black Star! What are you DOING?" she demanded in the "I'm going to kick your ass" tone that her partner feared above most things.
"Nothing! I didn't do anything!" his voice pitched into a panicked squeak, and on any other day, Maka would have enjoyed a good laugh at his expense. Instead, she sniffled hard and told Tsubaki that everything was okay.
"Maka, it doesn't look like everything is okay," Tsubaki said tenderly. Unlike her partner, she noticed the misshapen doorknob on the ground and the heat-scorched plate it had been attached to. Books and an empty, broken picture frame lay on the tile, tangled up in discarded, bloodstained clothes.
"I'll be okay," Maka promised, "Eventually. I just want to sit here with Black Star for a while, okay?"=
Tsubaki returned to the living room looking utterly dumbfounded. "Maka says she's fine," she said slowly, "But her bedroom is a mess, there are bloody clothes on the floor, her doorknob is melted, and she's asking to be alone with Black Star. She's obviously not fine. And if Maka's upset like this, then why isn't Kid here? Is he okay?"
"It's...not our business," Soul muttered, squinting against the morning light that felt like it was burning directly into his brain, "All we can do right now is be here for Maka."
"It looks like you could use a little help, too," Tsubaki said kindly. She closed the blinds and Soul slumped against the sofa cushions in relief, "God, thanks. I might be coming down with something. I feel like total crap.
Tsubaki knew a hangover when she saw one; this was not her first Drunk Boy Morning-After rodeo, "I'm going to make you some weak tea and dry toast," she announced, heading to the kitchen, "Maybe it'll help cure that Whiskey flu you've got."