Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.

Note: This follow-up chapter is completely up for interpretation.

Sacrifices For Those That You Love

by. xxBurningxx

He stopped talking to everyone, for the most part. Slowly but surely, Soul drifted away from the people that were once his friends, because he couldn't quite bare to talk to them. Depression wasn't the right word to describe the jumbled mess that he had become, but empty was a better fit. He was messed up in the head, he knew that, and the black blood didn't really help. He simply couldn't bring himself to clean out the apartment.

Instead, he left everything the way it had been when they'd left for that awful mission. Soul didn't touch any of her things any more than he had to, and his heart had constricted so tightly he thought he would choke when he had to move one of her novels - still bookmarked from where she'd been reading it - to her room.

He nearly had a breakdown going in there. It smelled like her, she was everywhere, she was his everything. She was gone. That day he had found himself burying his face into her pillows, taking in her scent, not bothering to leave her room for food or any other necessities. He stayed in there for two days straight, and he would have stayed there until he died if it weren't for a certain cat that dragged him out. For the first time in her life, Blair was fully clothed, and didn't even bother to try teasing him. Instead she just made him a measly bowl of milk. Of course it wasn't what he needed or wanted, but he appreciated the gesture.

It was at the funeral that he knew things were going to shit.

He was wearing his pinstripe suit - just for you Maka, only you - and was sitting in the church quietly. He had refused to be a pallbearer; couldn't handle it. Soul held his tears in, because he knew she wouldn't have wanted him lose his cool. Pfft, if only she knew how he was acting at home alone. Everyone was teary-eyed, giving speeches, and other sappy crap, and here he was. The person that had loved her most, sitting off to the side, cold as a rock. He'd retreated into a mental shell of madness, and he knew it. They could sense it as well, so they left him be.

As the time came that they were putting her grave into the ground, that was when he heard a voice, surprisingly close to his ear.

"This is really annoying."

He knew who it was before looking over, but he did anyways, and let out a yelp of surprise, falling on his ass. She had been standing there, clad in the dress from the Black Room, smiling at him. As a few people turned back to see what was wrong, she disappeared, but he swore he could have heard her laughing at him. He regained his composure and waved off concerned glances from the others, all the while his mind reeling. What even?

When the funeral was over, and Soul was on his way back to his motorcycle, she was there again. "I seriously can't believe Black Star was actually crying!"

"I can't tell if you're just a hallucination from the black blood and I just have noticed it going haywire, or what," he mumbled, not looking at her, almost too scared to. Surely it couldn't really be...?

"Hey!" She elbowed him, and he was shocked to find actual pressure applied to him. He stopped in place and stared at her. She grinned, and something inside of him seemed to break a little. Of all things, this was something he wasn't capable of handling.

"Why...how are you here?"

This time she looked away and shrugged. "I guess I'm just not supposed to leave earth yet..."

He grit his teeth. He didn't want to be talking to her ghost, or whatever the hell it was. He wanted her to actually be there, alive. Dammit, this was all bullshit! She glanced at him with an apologetic look, as if she knew what he was thinking. And suddenly there was a pair of arms wrapped around him. "Let's go home," she whispered.

She didn't leave after that, either. Blair couldn't see Maka's ghost (or at least that was what Soul had taken to referring to her as). Hell, maybe this was all inside his head. Maybe he had fallen so far into the black blood that now his mind was letting him see things just to make him happy. Or maybe not. He could never quite tell when it came to the insanity flowing in his veins.

Maka stopped following him outside the apartment, explaining that she wanted to be in the comfort of their apartment. That didn't make much sense to him, but he didn't really care either way. He hardly left anyways. "I'm glad you didn't toss my stuff," she said one day, coming out in her old uniform outfit.

He only stared at her, that empty feeling resurfacing in his chest. "You're killing me, you know that right?"

She regarded him sadly, looking down. Immediately he felt bad and wanted to apologize, but something seemed to hold him back. "I'm sorry. I can't leave though."

"And why's that?"

"You're still here."

And so she sat down next to him on the couch, leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder. He didn't say anything, and quietly slipped an arm around her slender shoulders. He couldn't help but notice that there was no warmth in her skin, just reminding him of the fact that she wasn't actually there. "Dammit," he mumbled, and slowly he drifted off to sleep.

"STOP IT, SOUL!"

His old friends circled around the white-haired weapon, trying to put an end to his rampage of madness. Kid shot at him will bullets not strong enough to kill but enough strength to incapacitate someone. Black Star was doing all the close-combat fighting, and like Kid, was trying his best to not injure his friend too badly. But that was difficult, seeing as the scythe was only hacking and slashing like it was nobody's business. The wide grin on his face that displayed his sharp teeth was enough to make anyone shudder.

"He's fallen to the black blood," Professor Stein said, taking a drag on his cigarette as the battle pressed on. Spirit only watched in silence. Since Maka had died, he'd hardly spoken a word to anyone. And now he was having to witness the one person who had cared for his baby-girl the most tear himself apart from the inside out. It was almost physically painful to watch with that bit of information in mind.

"Isn't there some way we can stop him?" Spirit grit through his teeth, clenching his fists.

Stein shook his head. "No. This is Soul's battle, and his alone. All we can do is make sure he doesn't destroy the entire damn city. It's up to him to pull himself out."

"Can he even do that? Before...he had Maka's help; she was able to reach him. But now, can he pull it off..?" His throat hitched when he said his daughter's name, and it was all he could do to keep from bursting into tears again. Dammit, life just wasn't fair. He was a horrible parent, he did so many things that ended up hurting her, and of all people, he should have been the one to get killed. Not his beautiful baby-girl. Damn, there were the tears. He barely noticed Stein talking.

"If I'm completely honest with you, I doubt it."

"Soul, you don't have to do this," Maka said, pleading with him. Her eyes were watery at the sight of her distressed used-to-be weapon. "Please, Soul, I want you to live a happy life."

"You know that's impossible now," he growled, plopping down on the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, and any other time she would have Maka Chopped him, but not this time. It was hardly appropriate. She was fidgeting, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Why couldn't he just understand?

"Please," she begged, staring into his crimson eyes.

"No, Maka, I'm asking you please. Please get out of my head, I can't stand it! You're here and yet you're not and I don't even know anymore!"

And he didn't. His mind was a swirling mess, and darkness and confusion had been gripping at him for a while now. He wasn't even sure when the last time he'd left the apartment was. He sure as hell knew he hadn't eaten in a few days, but that was the least of his concerns. Maybe this was better after all. He closed his eyes and slowly but surely he began to drift into unconsciousness. Sleep was such a nice thing.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard the little demon mumble, "Oh Soul, and here I was thinking that you had stronger willpower than that. Shame. You always let your loved ones down, don't you?"

And somewhere even further away was Maka's voice, "Please Soul, no..."

"Kid," Black Star shouted, his voice surprisingly devoid of any emotion. "Stop."

The Shinigami in mind took a step back and they regarded the man before them, screaming and slicing up anything and everything in his path. "It's been an hour. If he was coming out, he would have done it. I'm going to..." Black Star stared at him, a dark look in his eyes. He was done playing games.

Kid's eyes widened. "No, Black Star, what if he's still in there?"

"He's not. And if he was, you know the one person who could have saved him, and she's not with us anymore. You know it, Kid."

"No..."

Black Star looked down grimly and muttered, "Who knows, maybe they'll finally get to be together."

No one wanted to admit it, but the inevitable was coming and they knew it well.

They all watched as the ninja mumbled a soft, "I'm sorry, friend," under his breath. He promptly made a swift movement towards the scythe. When the assasin was serious, it didn't matter how much the enemy resisted. Everything moved in slow motion as he jutted Tsubaki through the weapon's chest, watching slowly as his best friend's wild eyes slowly went dim, almost seeming to flicker off. He flailed for a moment, trying to cut any flesh he could come in contact with, but soon even that energy was gone and he was nothing more than a limp body, blood that was a nightmarish black flowing from his body. "DAMMIT!" Black Star screamed into the air, pulling his weapon out of Soul's body. "WHY DOES EVERYTHING ALWAYS HAVE TO GO TO SHIT?"

Kid watched, lowering his head. He knew it was the only way to stop the demon scythe because they knew he had been too far gone, but that didn't mean that is was right. None of them deserved this. Especially Soul, because no one deserved to watch their meister die and then succumb to madness. He held his two weapons close as they began to cry into his chest, despite him being shorter than them.

Stein was silent, and Spirit began kicking the nearest building aimlessly. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!" He fell to his knees. "Why...? That stupid punk...Fuck..."

Tsubaki was sobbing, and she would have clung to Black Star had he not been off shouting a string of curses, performing similar actions as Spirit, except he was actually destroying a few things.

"Why...?"

They all seemed to mutter that one question at the same time.

And if only the meisters could have seen them, because standing only a few feet away from all the commotion, hand-in-hand, was a white-haired boy and an ash-blonde girl with pigtails. They were both smiling.

"Thanks..."

A/N: I don't know why I just up and suddenly decided I felt this story needed a short follow-up chapter. Depressing, but at least they get a good ending in the end, right? Again, this is totally up for interpretation! Reviews and favorites greatly appreciated, thank you.