Part II

Soul wasn't there. Nobody was there. Maka was on her own, and she felt sick at the thought. That might have just been from the thug's rancid breath, though. She had her back pressed to the cold stone wall of the alley, her wrists pinned above her head by the huge guy's meaty hand. She couldn't move. His lower body ground atrociously against hers, pressing her hard against the wall and basically immobilizing her.

Fury had consumed her at first, but as the situation quickly deteriorated, fear swallowed the anger, leaving her trembling and squirming uselessly. The man's other hand knew not the boundaries of clothes, and slipped right beneath her blouse, inching up her abdomen to skim across her breasts. The breath hissed through her teeth.

"Take your hands off of me, pervert." She growled, for the umpteenth time. The man grinned cruelly.

"I don't remember saying you could speak, sweetheart." He gave her breast a firm squeeze that made her gasp.

"I don't remember saying you could violate me, you bastard." She retorted.

"Such a fowl mouth. But you know, I don't really mind." He leered, stroking the sensitive spots on Maka's chest. She trembled. "I'd still love a taste.

He lowered his face, and latched his mouth onto hers. His lips were hard and cruel, forcing hers apart so that his tongue could explore at his leisure. It played with hers, chasing her in circles around her own mouth. Death, he tasted every bit as bad as he smelled. She finally remembered that she had teeth, and she bit down on his tongue. Hard. He jerked backwards, swearing, then glowered at her.

"Alright. If you want to play dirty, so will I. Don't bother screaming, no one will help you."

The hand that didn't hold her wrists squeezed her breast hard one last time, then ripped her blouse open, sending the buttons bouncing off of the ground

"Strapless, eh? Not the best idea for a big city." The thug said, and undid the clasp on the back of her bra, which fell at their feet. Maka was shaking violently now, even before the man leaned down and fastened his mouth to her breast. She gasped, and the first tear fell down her face as she felt his rough tongue and the scrape of his teeth.

"Stop it!" She had meant to shout, but she could only manage a weak whimper.

The thug pulled back enough to smile, then his lips found her neck, taking a fold of skin and sucking on it. Slowly he made his way to her ear, swiping his slimy tongue inside the delicate shell before hissing into it.

"You don't want me to. You know it feels good. You like it. Just succumb, and you'll love the results."

"Screw you." She hissed venomously.

He said something else, but Maka didn't hear it. His roaming hand had found the hem of her skirt, and was pushing up inside the fabric, rubbing circles on the inside of her thigh before moving even higher to cup her mound, his fingers pressing against the thin cotton fabric at her most sensitive spot.

"Take your hands off of me, damn you!" She said, finally getting her voice to a shout.

"Now, now, don't be like that." Said the man, and he returned his lips to her breast.

She gasped and squirmed, but there was nowhere for her to go. His fingers were stroking her most sensitive spot, starting a horribly unwilling fire inside her. They stroked her, played with the inside of her thighs, trying to find the edge of her panties.

More tears fell.

"Damn you, you're going to Hell!" Maka half-sobbed.

His fingers found their goal, and slid her undergarment down so they could reach their mark. She shuddered when they entered her, hating the fact that his fingers inside of her still felt good, that she could still like the touch even as it was violent and dirty and unwanted. Sliding in and out of her, stroking her walls and delving deeper and deeper. When his hand left her spot, she knew what it was doing, and she struggled even harder, but it was no use. She heard the belt hit the ground with a slight thump, and closed her eyes, wishing she could just die before the inevitable happened.

In her desperation Maka could almost pretend she heard footsteps, running nearer and nearer.

She heard the zipper go down. The man's hardness pressed against her unprotected entrance, only the thin material of his boxers blocking him. That didn't stop him from rocking against her in a brutal motion, beating against her spot even as he started to free himself fully.

And then she heard the most wonderful thing in the world. A furious voice, shouting from the end of the alley, making the thug pause.

"Get your damn hands off of her now!"

Maka opened her eyes and saw a pair of enraged red eyes glowing through the darkness beneath a shock of white hair. Shark-like teeth were bared in a menacing snarl.

"Soul!" She half shouted, half sobbed. The man looked around, but all he saw was a weird-looking kid a head and a half shorter than him, in baggy gray jeans, a bright orange shirt, a black leather jacket, and a thin black headband.

"Scram, kid, we're a little busy." He said, his hand resting suggestively on Maka's stomach.

"Like Hell." Soul snarled, and a vicious-looking red blade extended from each of his forearms. The man froze, then dropped Maka and dashed off, in the opposite direction of the pissed-off Death Scythe.

Maka fell to her knees, clutching the edges of her top together in an effort to cover herself. She was quaking ferociously.

Soul sprinted to her side, "sheathing" the blades on his arms, and knelt down. He didn't say anything. He didn't call her an idiot for wandering off alone. He didn't demand to know why or how she had let her guard slip. Didn't tell her all of the things she could have done. His arms went around her, pulling her to his chest in a tender embrace and resting his cheek on the top of her head. She burrowed into his chest, crying out of fear and disbelief that she could have let herself get into that situation. Fury that she'd had to be rescued, again.

Locked in Soul's strong, safe arms, Maka poured out floods of tears, all the time with Soul stroking her hair and telling her to shush, that she was alright, that he would never let that happen to her again.

~Soul~

I couldn't believe that I had let this happen. I was her weapon. I was supposed to protect her, and she'd just been seconds away from being raped. As it was she'd been horribly violated, and I couldn't help but think that it was all my fault. If I hadn't left her. I though. If I had just stayed with her. I held her tighter against me, wishing I could take her pain away, that I could bear it for her, no matter how much she may resent it. Eventually Maka pulled back, wiping her eyes and sniffling. I could feel the concern filling my gaze.

Wordlessly I shrugged out of my jacket, then my shirt, and handed Maka both. She slipped into the t-shirt quietly—you could have fit two, maybe even three of her skinny bodies in it—and I slung my jacket over her shoulders.

"You're not cold at all, Soul?" She asked, glancing at my bare chest. A mistake. Her throat constricted every time she saw it. The scar.

"Nah, I'm f—Maka? What's up?" I said, noticing the sudden tightening of her shoulders even beneath my thick leather jacket. She looked away and didn't answer.

I glanced down, and sighed. The scar. It still hurt her. I hated that it tormented Maka every time she saw it; could hardly bear to see the guilt that threatened to drown her. It was her fault, she thought. Maka blamed herself for getting me injured. She blamed herself for the fact that I had nearly died getting that scar, that I had gotten it while protecting her. The pain radiating from her, through her soul's wavelengths, was enough to drive me mad. I didn't want to be the reason she hurt, the reason that shame threatened to crush her. She had been striving to be stronger ever since, determined to protect her weapon—which I couldn't help feel was backwards; it was my job as the weapon to protect her—and to be more independent. The problem was, she was already so strong, and the thing that was driving her was fear. We both knew how bad things could turn out when fear was the main drive, and so Maka had all but given up. She had tried to make me take another meister, once, but of course there was no way in Hell, Heaven, or Earth that I would, or even could consider that.

I reached out, touching her face gently with the tips of my fingers. She turned to look at me with shining eyes. My hand slid down her arm to hers; I wrapped my fingers around her wrist and pressed her palm to my bare chest, over my heart, and over my scar. Her fingertips trembled, and she looked away. I put both of my hands over hers to still the shaking, and to press her against my pulse.

"Maka, look at me." She wouldn't. "Maka…" Her gaze was on the ground.

"Soul…" Her voice quivered.

"Maka, look at me. I know you hate seeing this scar, but you have to." I growled. Maka slowly looked up, meeting my scarlet gaze with her emerald one.

"Soul, don't—"

"No, you don't, Maka." I cut across her. "This scar was for you. You were not going to die. Not in front of me. So I got in the way. I was ready to die, for you. But I didn't die. Yeah, I bled. A lot. But I'm alive. I am right damn here. This wasn't your fault—it was my choice. You wouldn't block, so I did it for you. That's my job. As a weapon, it's my duty to put your life before mine, to protect you with my life. It wasn't your decision, it wasn't your fault, and it's not worth beating yourself up over. That night is past and gone. We're both alive. I hate seeing you torment yourself so much about a stupid scar."

Maka scowled.

"But it was my fault. If I hadn't barged in there with no idea what we were facing, it wouldn't have happened. I screwed up. If I had been—"

"Don't. Say. Stronger." I snapped. "Maka, you are, without a doubt, the strongest, smartest, most determined person I have ever met. For you to sit here, going on about what could have happened, how you should've been stronger, is just plain stupid. You're smart, you're brave, you're strong, and you're beautiful."

I had said it before I could stop myself, and watched as her eyes widened.

"Did you just call "tiny-tits" what I think you called her?" She said. I smirked at the mention of my nickname for her.

"Depends." I said airily. "What does she think I called her?"

Maka blushed, but answered in a soft voice. "Beautiful?"

I felt heat creep across my own cheeks, but I shrugged nonchalantly. Stay cool…Stay cool…

"Then yeah, tiny-tits heard right."

"MAKA CHOP!" Maka shouted.

I crumpled to the cement with an agonizing pain in my head.

"How do you make those books come out of nowhere?" I demanded as Maka tucked the huge tome back inside my jacket. "And why didn't you do that when the jackass snuck up on you?"

Maka paled and clenched her jaw. Damn. I kicked myself internally.

"Hey, forget I said anything, alright?" I said, standing up and offering Maka a hand. She took it gingerly, and I wrapped an arm around her waist. We walked home in fairly comfortable silence, my arms around her protectively.

"Soul?" Maka said softly when we were safely inside the flat.

"Yeah?"

"Did you mean it?"

"Did I mean what?"

"What you said? Do you really think that I'm…beautiful?"

I swore that I could hear the blush in her voice as I led her to her room.

"Maka, I absolutely meant what I said." I laid her down on her bed, and sat beside her, stroking her rumpled hair tenderly. More tenderly than Maka could have thought possible of the too-cool-to-care Soul Eater Evans, I'd wager. "And that makes me wonder why in Death's name you Maka-Chopped my brains out."

Maka frowned at me.

"Because I thought you were mocking me."

I looked down at her, my hand pausing in her hair. Hurt pulsed through me at the very idea that Maka could even think I could, that I ever would, make fun of her about something like that.

"Maka, how could—"

"Soul, I've been through five years of being called tiny-tits, of having you poke non-stop fun at my flat chest, of having you talk all the time about how too-cool you were to ever go for a girl as plain as me." She looked away. "I've watched you get nosebleed after nosebleed every time you see girls with a lot of cleavage, and you look at me like I'm nothing special, like I'm just one of those average people with nothing going for them."

I stared at her. Was she right? Was that really all I had done to her? Tease her, call her stupid names, tell her she was just another girl? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that was indeed the case. I'd been nothing to her but a shallow jerk that was obligated to guard her. Couldn't she see that she was so much more to me? So much more than an average, boring, flat-chested girl who couldn't even hope to compete with people like Blair? No, how could she see, when I never gave her any clue? I felt like the biggest jackass ever. No, I was the biggest jackass ever. How damn un-cool.

I took her hand in both of mine, waiting for Maka to meet my gaze. When her bright green eyes finally flickered over to meet my ruby ones, I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and lowered my face over hers until our foreheads touched. We both blushed at the sudden proximity, but neither pulled away.

"Maka Albarn, I've been an insensitive, incompetent dumbass whenever I've talked to you. I only meant those things I said as jokes, but I guess the more often I said them, the more you believed them. It's true I never said anything to contradict them, I never really spoke a kind word or compliment to you, and for that, I'm…" I swallowed hard, finishing the un-cool sentence before I could chicken out. "I'm so sorry."

"Soul, that's not—"

"Let me finish. I guess I gave you the idea that you really were nothing special, that you weren't something everyone wants to be or wants to have, but believe me, that's not what I meant to do. You are so much more than plain, or boring, or average. You're amazing, you're brilliant, you're strong, and yeah, you're beautiful. You have an amazingly kind, accepting soul, especially considering the things your womanizing dad put you through. You're warm and caring, and the first person I've really been able to fully trust in my entire life. You always tell people the truth, even if it hurts them, because you're smart enough to realize that, in the long run, a pretty lie would hurt them even more. You're what I strive to be like every day. I fail epically, but I never stop trying to be a better person. Someone like you, better than my arrogant, self-possessed and admittedly perverted self. I'm so damn un-cool, it's not even remotely funny." I sighed.

"Soul…"

"Maka, I'm still not done." I said, and resolved there and then to tell her everything I'd ever held back. "Maka, from the moment I met you I just knew there was something different about you. You didn't cringe from my red eyes, or my demon teeth, or the way I talked. You didn't run from me like so many others did, because I didn't have the best outlook on life. And something about your soul's wavelength comforted me, even then, even before we had ever resonated. I could sense the warmth and compassion in it. Ever since that first day, I wanted you. Not just as my meister, not just as my best friend, although that was how it started.

"You tried so hard to make me comfortable, to help me overcome my fears, and I was touched. You actually cared about me, and it stunned me. It was that night, when I'd held you for the first time as you tried to fight back the fear of that nightmare, that I swore I'd do the same. I'd help you face your fears. I'd protect you. I cared about you, more than I was ever willing to admit, even to myself, but I sure did. Your trust in me, your faith in me, your acceptance of me, it made me care for you so much. Did you ever notice that? Did you ever notice that I wasn't asleep half the time as I leaned against you in front of the TV? That I wasn't hurt badly enough to need to hold you like I did? I'll bet you didn't."

Slowly Maka shook her head.

"Maka Albarn, one-star scythe meister, daughter of Death Scythe Spirit, from the moment I held you in my arms, I have loved you with all my heart. I still love you. Always have, always will. To me you're the most beautiful girl in the world, the smartest, the toughest, the kindest, and coolest person I have ever known. Tsubaki's nice and all, but that's part of the problem. She's too nice. Liz is too weird about all the cosmetic crap, and Patty's just plain crazy, but you…I love you, Maka Albarn, and I think I always will."

Maka's breath caught when I kissed her forehead. I pulled back, and was startled to see tears in Maka's eyes.

"Maka? What's up?" I said, suddenly afraid I'd made a mistake.

"Soul…" She said tremulously. "I—I can't."

"What? Why?" My heart sank.

"You know what happened to my parents." She whispered softly. "It never lasts. Someone always gets bored, and then someone gets hurt. That could ruin everything, Soul. Everything we have. I don't want to lose you, as my friend or my weapon, no matter how much I…No matter that I want…"

Want?

"Maka," I murmured, half amused, half exasperated. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course!" She said it without hesitation.

"Then you should know that I'd never do that. I'd never hurt you, Maka, never. Especially in that way. I'm not your psycho father. I love you, Maka, only you. You're the only person I could ever possibly need or want."

Before she could argue, I placed a soft, sound kiss on Maka's trembling lips. She gave a small gasp of surprise, but didn't pull away. Taking this as encouragement, I took her hands and guided them to the back of my neck. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer. Reaching up to cradle her face in my hands, I stroked Maka's jaw lightly with my thumbs. Our lips moved tenderly against each other's, mine gently coaxing Maka's apart. Cautiously I ran the tip of my tongue along the inside of her bottom lip, and thought I'd burst into flames when she moaned my name.

"Soul…"

"Mm…?" I answered thickly, drawing back and burrowing my face in the curve of her neck.

"I—I love you too."

My lips curved into a smile against her skin as overwhelming joy filled me. She did! She did feel the same!

Maka gasped when I started to worry a fold of skin beneath her ear with my mouth, carefully sucking and nipping at it. I released it with a swipe of my tongue, pausing a moment to admire the dull red mark. My mark. My Maka…

I feathered kisses along her jaw, coming to a pause at her ear.

"Glad to hear it."

She gasped again—it was an adorable sound—when my sharp teeth grazed her earlobe, drawing a drop of blood. Immediately I disposed of it with a flick of my tongue, and she shivered. With a hungry moan Maka pulled my lips back to hers in a fiercely passionate kiss.

This time her lips parted against mine, and I breathed in the taste of her, eager to take the kiss further, but wanting Maka to take the lead. I didn't want to take it farther than she was ready for. But, she seemed to be sharing my thoughts. Although hesitant, she was clearly eager to explore my mouth. Her tongue slid past my lips, and I shuddered and groaned, pressing myself more firmly to her. Our mouths moved against each other's, hungry and curious. Our tongues fought for dominance, chasing each other around first my mouth, then hers. Eventually I won, and I pulled hers back into my moist cavern, sucking. She shivered and gave a moan of her own, nibbling at my bottom lip.

I was the one who finally broke away, panting slightly. We were tangled together as best we could manage on her bed, our legs twined together and our arms wrapped around each other. My shirt and jacket, which had been covering her, were lying forgotten on the floor.

"We…have to stop…here." I said roughly.

"Why?" She protested, leaning back to meet my crimson eyes with those jewel-toned ones of hers.

"Because," I leaned my forehead against hers. "You had a very eventful, pretty un-cool evening, and I want you to be completely yourself before something like this goes any farther, Maka."

"I guess that makes sense." She sighed, and curled up against my chest, with my arms wrapped protectively around her.

As her eyes fell upon the scar, for the first time ever, I sensed pride emanating from her instead of pain. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.