Pulling Through

Rain fell in pounding torrents against the earth and soaked two wandering misfits in an icy chill. They were trudging together through the muddy slums of Death City, beneath the moon that mocked from a hollow night sky, and home had never felt farther.

"You're an idiot," Soul hissed, fighting his shivers.

Maka furrowed her brows and slowly opened her eyes, staring ahead through the curtain of her lashes. It took her mind a second longer than usual to register his words due to significant blood loss and all around fatigue. When she finally realized Soul was just being a dick, Maka closed her eyes once more, resting her forehead wearily against his back.

"Hm..."

Soul bit back a curse at Maka's delayed reaction, having not realized how bad off she was - she should've been biting his head off for that comment, not muttering sleepy nonsense into his neck. Worry twisted his gut and he tried to focus on the radiating warmth that her body offered instead of the two blocks still separating them from first aid. Not that this was the first time this had happened - where one of them was forced to drag the other back home half dead - in fact this gruesome walk had turned into something of a monthly occurrence for the pair. Ever since reaching adulthood, their missions had become longer, harder and undeniably more dangerous. All it took was the tiniest mistake to end up butchered beyond recognition - a fact they knew all too well.

Absently noticing Maka's body sliding from where she lay barely awake on his back, Soul did an odd half hop and awkwardly managed to lift her back up to her perch. Prepared for at least a small moan of pain following his actions, Soul narrowed his eyes when Maka remained unnervingly silent.

"Maka," he growled pointedly, worried she'd lost consciousness.

When she didn't respond, Soul pinched her harshly in the rear to which Maka promptly replied by digging her heal into a bruise on his side.

"What..?" He was relieved to note that with the addition of annoyance, her voice had lost some of its fatigue.

"You're an idiot."

Knowing he was just grumpy because he was worried, Maka snuffed out the tiny self righteous voice in her head and, shivering, curled closer into Soul's back as she listened to the thunder roll about in the sky. Big, fat rain droplets slapped the cobblestone road around them in an obnoxious symphony, and she felt a familiar song creep into her mind.

When Maka had first begun to sing softly to herself, Soul wasn't exactly sure what she was doing. In his defence, she had an awful singing voice, and when all of a sudden he'd felt a gentle thrum rumble against his nape he was left wondering if maybe she'd been hit a little too hard during their fight. But then the raspy rhythm slowly began to pick up a familiar melody and he couldn't help the small smile that came to his lips. He recognized the song; it was a somber lullaby he'd learned when he was younger and must have played to Maka at some point in time. He tightened his hold on her legs subconsciously.

When they finally made it to their apartment, Maka was still softly humming the bittersweet tune.

"So one-to-ten, how bad off are you?" Soul asked as he gently lowered himself to the ground next to the bench they had cleverly slid next to the front door.

"...Ten being?" One hand still firmly planted on Soul's shoulder, Maka eased herself down onto the wooden seat with a hiss of pain.

"Dead."

She seemed to mull it over in her mind. "...Sevenish."

Soul frowned as his eyes trailed down from her face to the bloody mess beneath the left side of her ribcage. After feeling around inside all of his pockets, Soul looked over to Maka, "Do you have your key with you?"

Thoughts turned momentarily away from the pain, Maka lifted her head to glare at him. "I thought I told you to tie it around your neck?"

"And do you honestly think there is any chance in hell of that happening?"

She glared at him, pressing her lips together.

"Well?"

Sighing, Maka leaned slightly to the left. "Back right pocket..." she paused. "You know, Ox keeps his keys tied around his neck."

"Maka," Soul deadpanned with a dry look. "Ox is a complete retard."

He pointedly ignored the disapproving glance thrown his way and moved closer, allowing Maka to rest her weight against his forearm. Trying (and admittedly failing) to keep his thoughts strictly platonic, Soul slid his fingers into the back pocket of her jeans and easily retrieved their house key. Righting his wobbly girlfriend, Soul quickly rushed to unlock the door which opened after an impatient shove.

"Alright, come here you." Carefully sliding one arm around her back and the other underneath her knees, Soul lifted her back into his arms. Maka's head lolled against his shoulder.

Soul stepped inside the tiny apartment and roughly kicked the door closed behind them. He didn't bother with his shoes as he raced across the room and set her down onto the couch, careful of her wound. Maka watched as he stuffed pillows underneath her head and, while breathing in his scent, she relaxed unconsciously. When satisfied that she was comfortable, Soul came over and bent down in front of her.

The couple stared quietly at one another, assessing the damage received.

"How are you doing?" Soul asked, lifting a hand to rest at the top of her head, his thumb stroking the arch of her eyebrow.

"I'm good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He let his fingers trace down her cheek slowly before he pulled away. "I'll be right back."

Soul returned five minutes later, bringing with him three towels, various bandages, half a bottle of alcohol and a bowl of hot water.

"We're out of the normal disinfectant, so I just grabbed a bottle of vodka," Soul said as he sat down cross-legged in front of the couch, arranging all his supplies around him. "Nothing good of course, just some cheap shit Blackstar brought over."

Soul had changed out of his wet clothes and into an old, faded pair of jeans, leaving his chest bear. After a moment of staring, Maka frowned as she moved her hand to poke a finger over a long thin scar by his collar bone. It was one she'd never noticed before.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Maka smiled, retrieving her hand. "Just looking."

"Like what you see?"

"Mhm."

Soul gave her a crooked grin. Happy with the gentle laugh he received he turned back to face the ugly gash on her side. With two fingers, Soul carefully lifted the cloth of her bloody t-shirt up and away from the wound. He'd known it wasn't life threatening, but when he scanned her torso evenly and his eyes had confirmed this for a fact, he felt a rush of relief calm his nerves.

"Lean forward," Soul instructed. Maka managed to push herself up with her arms and Soul quickly pulled off what was left of her tattered shirt and sweater. She eased herself back down to the couch with a pained 'oof', left in only her blood stained bra and rain soaked jeans.

The scrapes were no more than a centimetre at their deepest, but the four cuts ran in jagged parallel lines from the bottom of her hipbone up to the underside of her breast. Luckily, the rain had cleaned away any visible dirt so he wouldn't need to go digging - that was never fun. Soul dipped one of the thin towels into the warm water beside him then, straining out any excess water before he turned to press it against Maka's stomach.

"Alright," Soul began with a grin when he eventually moved to grab the vodka, "I won't lie to you, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Maka cringed, trying to tell herself she was just imagining the sadistic glint in his red eyes.

It suited him far too well.

"There. Good as new." Soul grinned, admiring his work. Maka simply glowered at him from where she sat upright on the cushions.

"You didn't have to tie it that tight, idiot." She rubbed the bandages knotted around her waist. "Normal people tend to loosen up when their patient stops breathing."

"You know, a simple thank you would suffice," Soul yawned, stretching tiredly. "God I'm completely done in, lets go to bed and you can clean up all this crap tomorrow."

Letting the comment slide (she was too tired to get mad), Maka allowed Soul to gently lead her down the hall, through the bedroom and finally, under the covers of their bed. A familiar and comforting warmth slid down into the pit of her belly as Soul wrapped his arms around her.

"Soul?"

"Mhmm?"

"Thanks."

She could feel his smile as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

A/N: In case you didn't know, it isn't a good idea to poor alcohol on wounds. It kills the bad bacteria, but it also kills everything else as well.