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The Balcony

Summary:

The apartment next to Soul's in miraculously no longer empty, a fact he only finds out by the sliding door on their shared back balcony. From just a voice, to a face, to a person- how will Soul navigate this new relationship that's filled with secrets?

Notes:

This is entirely Pocky's fault for floating this AU idea on the discord. Yes, I know I have ILN to write, but my brain wouldn't shut up.

Chapter 1: A Lonely Voice

Chapter Text

It started on the year anniversary of moving into this shitty apartment. Now, when I say that, I ain't knockin' where I live--it's fine--but it's not a palace or anything. See, divorcing from my family kind of left me with these things called bills and part-time piano playing, part-time bartending, and--Death, do I ever use the word lightly--freelance producing hadn't exactly gotten me the Ritz. Instead, it got me something close to two closets masquerading as bedrooms and a kitchen that doubled as a dining room and living room.

The neighbors were mostly pension collectors; the last one being a particularly ornery old guy who liked to listen to Matlock at ear-splitting decibels at 5 AM. Maybe I'll end up in hell for saying this but thank Death the old guy kicked the bucket a few weeks before and had left the only shared wall I had suddenly silent. So the plan had been to take my favorite six-pack and my trusty keyboard and make my way out onto the balcony. It was the best place in the apartment; a three-by-six ledge with just enough grating to keep a toddler from tumbling. At 2 AM, it was also the best view in the city.

So there I sat, one year down with how many ever to go, a little pathetic but at least with a beer in my hand. I leaned against the edge of the sliding door and took a long, malty sip before clinking it against the cement. I crossed my legs so I could carefully balance the portable keyboard on my knees. I didn't need a warm-up since I'd just spent hours playing in that mind-numbingly boring hotel lobby, but I stretched my fingers all the same. I took one more sip of my beer before letting them rest on the keys while my eyes searched out into the colorful array of city lights.

I was just starting to get into my flow-finally forgetting the tired, cliche Beethovens and Chopins-when I heard the slide of the door next to mine. I glanced over at the glass, seeing the soft drift of drapes I didn't recognize as the old man's but there was nothing other than the screen and shadow behind it. I snorted something close to a laugh before muttering, "Well, hopefully it's a friendly ghost."

A sweet, melodic giggle drifted out of the dark.

"Uh," I let the vowel rumble in my chest. "Hello?"

There was enough of a pause that I was starting to think there was a ghost. Suddenly, a tired voice slipped through the screen, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Do you mind?"

Hell yeah, I mind! It was my private time, after all, but it was something about the voice. I wasn't lying when I said it was exhausted, which I easily could have excused with the hour, but it wasn't just that. There was a drag in the pleasantness. Pain. Sorta like… "Nah." There was a little extra jitter to my fingers, but I brought them back to the keys.

"You could… do you mind playing what you were just playing? I liked it."

Hell yeah, I mind! That was my private song, after all, but… that voice sounded just as empty as my melody.

So I played.

I played for hours.

I played through four out of six beers.

I played and that door never closed but at the same time, I never saw a face, nothing to give shape to a voice that was only just keeping some kind of loneliness at bay.

I played until the fuzz of alcohol and sleep deprivation finally caught up with me. "Uh, I'm going to bed," I announced through a grimace. Why the hell are you even saying anything? Could you be any more uncool?

"Good night," the voice murmured softly.

"G'night," I echoed as I stood and tucked the keyboard under my arm. I slid the screen and then the door, pausing with just one foot into the tiny bedroom. "I… I, uh, well, my name's Soul."

"Maka," she replied quietly. "Thanks for the music, Soul."

"Yeah, no problem, Maka."

A hand moved but there was still no face. The door closed with an eerie slowness.

Maybe she is a ghost.


I guess I assumed I'd see her. It's not like I stalked the halls, but there was never a moment when she was going in or out- or at least not in that kind of rom-com coincidence sort of way. So I didn't see her, but Maka would open that back door as soon as I put my fingers to the keys. She'd listen the entire time. Sometimes she'd ask for a song again. It was a slow crawl, but after a few weeks, I got the first question:

"How was your day?"

"Huh?" The notes clamored into a mess as my brain followed suit. Is she asking me how I am?

"I'm pretty sure this is a standard question, Soul."

I struggled through an airy laugh. Is she shit-talking me? "A standard question, but not really one I'm expecting from a screen door."

Suddenly a bit of blonde hair snuck into view, a delicate curve of a shoulder pressed into the crosshatch. "OK- now, how was your day?"

My brain was about as useful as a down jacket in a heatwave so I sat there with fingers still poised as if I could produce more than just a dumbfounded stare at a corner of skin.

"Earth. To. Soul."

"Uh…" I muttered useless vowels and consonants under my breath before the answer came in an embarrassingly stressed octave, "Regular?"

"Regular," she sighed. "Can you define that?"

"Stupid," I huffed. "Is that a little more descriptive?"

"I guess." There was definitely an eye-roll saturating that but it wasn't as if I could see it. All I could see was still just a hint of straight, flowing hair.

I tried to start the tune again but my rhythm was off, so I stopped with a sigh. "What about you?"

Silence sat between us but all I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears.

"Regular--" finally came the shaky answer.

"What's regular?" How those words managed to stumble out of my mouth was beyond me, but there they were- alive and well and driving me crazy with the wish I could gobble them back up.

"Weird." The screen complained as she lifted her hand to clear the hair from her face. Her nose had tilted enough that I could catch half an eye and the moisture that was lining the bottom lid.

The joints of my fingers ached, my head was starting to pound, but I peeled the word off my tongue with all the honesty in me: "Sorry."

"What?" That brought more of a turn, enough now to see the shock widening one jade eye.

"Weird's the worst," I murmured. "Bad or good is pretty clear, right? Weird isn't. Guess there's not much I can do other than say sorry."

The laugh she tried to give in reply croaked and when I turned to look at her I saw the line of tears roll down her cheek. "The piano guy is the last one who needs to say sorry," she murmured to herself. "Just… could you play that song from the first night? Please? I like that one the best."

"You have shit taste. It's the worst one," I laughed bitterly.

"I do not," she snapped but the giggle that came after was actually real, no longer wet from the tears that were still sitting on her cheek. "Why do you think that?"

I shrugged and it loosened my fingers, letting them hit the keys and start that song that I had seared into my soul. "I wrote it."

At that moment, she didn't say a thing, but she asked for it three more times before she closed the door.


We locked eyes for a solid minute even though my entire mind was trying to will myself to look away. It was Maka's door but it was a man- middle-aged, glasses, a sardonic grin. He had just slipped his key--yes, a key from his pocket, not knocking--in the door but had paused as I hit the top of the stairs. I wanted to make quick steps to my door but his freeze forced mine. For a horrifying second, I was sure I would open my mouth with some actual human greeting but he gave me a reprieve by disappearing into the slowly opening door.

I heaved a sigh before making my way to my own and slinking into my apartment. My gut was screaming to turn on the TV, but I didn't have the heart to drain out the din of their voices through the thin walls. In the kitchen, most of the sound was muffled making the easy rise and fall of her voice nothing more than a ghost of a rhythm. It was just one sweet call after another and my stomach rolled. Why do you care if she has someone to talk to? If someone has a key to her apartment? If- I swallowed that bitter pill as I reached into the fridge and twisted the cap off a beer.

Because she's talked to me every day.

More than any other living person in this world.

And I like it.

Childish jealousy turned my stomach again before I downed a deep gulp of my beer.

I listened to their hum until I couldn't deny myself a shower any longer. That steamy oasis kept me for an eternity as I tried to gather more than adolescent thoughts.

She's listened to my music every day, not me.

And it's not a hard record to break- I don't talk much at all.

And who the fuck knows if she even likes it.

With a healthy dose of self-deprecation, I dressed and made my way to the terrace. I'd gotten in the habit now of leaving the piano by the door and I almost--almost--left it, but there was enough temper tantrum in me left to snatch it from its resting place. I slipped out of the sliding door as the light started to dim.

I should eat.

You know, something more than a beer.

Ah, fuck it.

I settled down to the keys, pounding out something that was supposed to sound like Satie but with all the frustration was leaning towards death metal in my ears.

"Are you OK?"

I hadn't even noticed that her door had opened or the voices inside had stopped.

"Yeah," I grumbled.

"That's really convincing…" This time I got the pleasure of seeing the eye-roll, or at least half of it as she angled her face enough that I could catch one eye.

"It ain't a big deal…" I tried to drown all of that out with more clacks of the keys but her ears were obviously in the wrong place again.

"Are you having a weird day?" This entirely gentle offering just barely made its way over the music but it hit me in the gut like a tractor-trailer.

"Could say that." Because it is. It's weird. This whole me coming back to this balcony night after night to play for a girl who I've never really seen and talk to her like she's an old friend is weird. What's weirder is the fact that it's becoming easy. It's becoming part of my day and I-I don't know what this is. What I'm doing. I just know I want to and that's even a weirder feeling on its own. Want. Motivation. Feeling.

"Is there something I could do?"

Any trajectory of my fingers was lost with a faulty electronic bleep of mistakenly pressed keys. "What?" My eyes shot back to the door to catch the earnest half-smile she was showing.

"You always play for me-" her voice at least sounded an ounce more well-rested "-so I guess there should be something I do for you, right? I actually feel kind of selfish, keeping you up all night-"

"It's fine," I snapped the words without thinking but that didn't derail her.

"But it's not." The order in her voice made my spine go straight. "Tell me what I can do."

I searched the skyline like it had an answer while my fingers tapped a few nervous notes into the keys. "Talk." It was too shaky to be a command.

"Talk?"

"I like when you talk." I just swallowed a groan at my own idiocy, a painful grimace pulling at my cheeks. Sound more pathetic. Actually, no chance. You literally couldn't sound more pathetic than right now.

A thoughtful hum buzzed out from behind the screen. "You don't really seem to like to talk though."

"Hence why you talk, not me," I grumbled.

That stupidly melodious giggle trickled out again and maybe my posture evened out for another second as I tried to crane another look at her. "Fine. I'll talk. Let's see… Is your name really 'Soul?'"

I tossed out a half-hearted sigh. "This sounds like it requires me talking…"

"Technically," she muttered. "But seriously- 'Soul?' Were your parents hippies?"

"It's what my brother calls me." I forced every last one of my muscles not to freeze at the admission. I glanced at her again as a few notes played, catching her eyes shining with interest and something close to amusement. The next bit slipped out without a second thought as I studied half of her smile. "Name's Solomon. Outta the two, Soul's cooler."

"Very cool," she laughed. "Older or younger brother?"

"Older."

"Name?"

"Wes." The hairs on the back of my neck tingled in the breeze. Be careful, he's sorta like the devil- you say his name and you call him here.

"I'm an only child," she offered as her finger scratched against the mesh pattern. It was like she was suddenly very interested in memorizing each little nook and cranny.

"He's sorta…" Death, stop it! She didn't ask another question, so she's not lookin' to hear your life story. Just because it feels like you could spill doesn't mean you should.

"A lot more eloquent than you?"

I snorted a laugh. "Definitely. More handsome too. Popular. Take your pick."

"Sounds-"

--Like jealousy? Envy? Plain ol' ugly sibling rivalry thanks to parents that don't have enough love to go around?--

"-sad."

Stone was softer than my muscles, all of me seizing with the word. I dared to force some Rachmaninov from my fingers, that Concerto No. 2 that always made my hair stand on end but the music didn't even compare to a corner of what was washing over me. Sad. I'm just sad. Like a twenty-four-seven veil that I wear, that I live, and I just don't see it. And it takes one word from this girl-

"I bet he's not as kind."

I didn't- I couldn't answer.

"Or hard-working."

"You don't-" Bile was choking at the back of my throat. "You don't know anything about me."

"I think that's a stretch," she snapped with enough anger to make any of mine fizzle. "Technically, I've talked more to you than any other person for the past month, and while you don't say much, you show a lot. Not on your face--you've got a mask, I think--but your actions spell things out pretty clearly. Plus, I guess staying in my apartment all day leaves me with only a few pastimes and one happens to be listening to your comings and goings. OK, Death, that sounds creepy…" That twittered off into a high, panicked giggle.

"Why?"

She seemed happy for the instant transition. "Why what?"

"Why do you stay in your apartment all the time?" I wanted to bite back the question as soon as I'd asked it but true to her nature-or at least what I could tell so far-she instantly piped up.

"I made a mistake so I'm sort of hiding out…?" She made an odd grunt, dissatisfaction sitting somewhere in that sentence. "I'm supposed to be the courageous one, but I guess that ran out with… I just can't face anyone right now."

I slid the piano carefully off my knees, resting it on the concrete. I needed the pressure of my knees against my chest, that curling sensation bringing enough pressure to my diaphragm that I felt like I could spew out the words. "Making a mistake is pretty brave."

"What?"

The city lights had all the attention of my eyes but my mind was playing entirely over her. "Means you tried- did something. Means you lived. Isn't that better than spending your entire life second-guessing yourself into staying frozen?" I knew the answer to that question since the beast it'd birthed had been settled under my heart for some time now, squeezing it to death. "Making a decision-good or bad--is brave, or at least braver than the alternative." I didn't think my fear could get any bigger, not after spewing all that idiocy, but as I heard the screen door slide, terror crept up my spine.

I wasn't ready to see her. In a way, I'd created some dream girl there and the reality of it then was going to kill me because I didn't want this to end. At that moment, I was sure her coming out was going to be what tore us apart. I guess I was sorta wrong in more ways than one because all that slipped out of the door was an awkward reach of her hand. Her palm just slid under the divide between our shared balcony.

"Hold my hand?"

"What?" Idiot!

"You know, hand on top of mine, sort of sideways so you can actually grasp?" She was giving instructions to a toddler.

"I know-" I started with blustered fury but swallowed it. "But holding hands with me--"

"Might be nice," she lilted sweetly over top of my words. "So hold my hand, or I'll start calling you Solomon."

I choked out a laugh before eyeing her wiggling fingers. Easy, right? Holding hands? Totally not as if you haven't done that since elementary school. With anxiety enough to make my palm a fucking swamp, a slid my hand over hers, following the order of grasping her fingers carefully. She was warm--so fucking warm--like having a beating heart in your hand. Or maybe that was just how I was feeling: like she was stealing mine right out with her fingers.

A pleasant sigh drifted out into the night. "It's so strange, but I missed this sort of thing. The only person who comes by is my uncle and he's not exactly the touchy-feely type so… honestly, no one's touched me in two months."

I turned my head to hide the shameful pink that I knew was creeping up my cheeks. Her uncle. That's who has the keys to her apartment. That's who visits and talks to her. All that stupid childishness for nothing. And don't start thinking you're something to her- she just doesn't have anyone else.

"I told him but… that's only because he's the logical one. Everyone else, well, everyone else would flip and I just-" there was a hiccuping break in her breath and she squeezed my hand "-I'm still flipping."

I dared to glance at her, seeing that profile covered in tears again. "Hey-"

"Death, I'm so- I'm sorry," she let out a bitter laugh as her other hand came up to clear her face. "You literally just come out here to play piano to relax and now I'm using you as a part-time therapist."

"Not relaxing," I corrected. "Sorta my own therapy. Decompressing."

"Even worse!" She blinked out another batch of tears. "I'm-"

"Fine." Testing boundaries was never my thing but my hand thankfully moved without the defective logic of my brain. Now it was my two to her one, fingers weirdly trying to find enough space with such a tiny, delicate object between them. "This is fine, Maka." Using her name was crossing another border, another thing that made her more real.

"Thank you…"

"Yeah, any time." I mean that.

Her only reply was her fingers pulsing momentarily in mine.

Chapter 2: Mr. Cool

Chapter Text

I bought flowers.

In my defense, it was more because Liz and Tsu had been talking about it as they waited ever so patiently for me to fill their drink orders.

"It's just one of those things that instantly brightens your day," Tsu murmured dreamily.

"Yeah, it was the perfect start to the date," Liz cooed. "He had his collar a little unbuttoned, the bouquet, a seriously deadly smirk. Ugh." She collapsed over the side of the bar. "Death, if he doesn't call me back I'm seriously going to die."

Tsu giggled before scolding, "Liz…"

"No, flowers set a precedent!" The other woman cried.

At that point, I was bringing the last two drinks for their order to the end of the bar while trying to ignore every last bit of Liz's constant romantic woes.

"Soul, have you ever given a woman flowers?" Tsu's friendliness was saccharine sweet but honest, making for a strange juxtaposition. Every time she talked to me it was like a shot of bad whiskey- warming but hard to swallow.

"Impossible," Liz crowed. "He would literally die- fall to pieces if you made him interact with someone he likes."

"I don't like anyone," I grumbled. A trickle of fear dripped down my spine like sweat as both women's eyebrows shot to their hairlines.

"Soul Evans!" Liz waved an accusing finger at me.

"Soul, you're blushing," Tsu murmured with at least a bit more softness than Liz.

"Who is it?" As soon as the drinks were down on the tray Liz was grasping my hands, keeping me from a quick exit.

"Nobody," I growled as I tried to break free. "Get to fucking work and leave me the hell alone."

"Oh!" Liz was shimmying on the other side of the bar, hips wiggling like a dog with a bone. "You do! You like someone! I seriously never thought I'd see the day but Soul Evans likes someone."

"Oh, fuck off." I threw the groan over my shoulder as I finally got out of her grip and turned back towards the safety of my end of the bar.

"Get her flowers!" Tsu called after me as Liz's giggles echoed behind her. "Camellias are the best!"

Like I said: not my fault I came home with flowers. I honestly didn't even know what the fuck a Camellia was, but ended up with a poufy bunch of red, pink, and white that I tossed frantically on the kitchen counter. "What the fuck am I doing?" I accused the blossoms before smacking my hand over my mouth at the outburst.

At that point, we were comfortable, but Maka had still been crying on and off during our nightly jam sessions. Sometimes she'd slip out her hand again, sometimes not. I could now describe what her wrist, elbow, and shoulder looked like- even the three freckles that made a triangle right where the door cut off her arm. Her hair wasn't perfectly blonde, more ashen than golden and whatever green I thought her eyes were was way brighter, glowing each time the lights hit her just right. Except that was all of her to me- actually, nah. That was the least of what she was to me.

The rest of her body as a shadow sorta meant nothing. I mean, I'm not saying I'm completely asexual--I can appreciate a nice figure when I see it--but bodies rarely meant anything to me. It was those leaps I couldn't take- the talking, the getting-to-know, the trusting that seemed to turn off that switch just as quickly as it could go on. In the magical land of our terrace, I had sorta forgotten all of that. I dished out just about everything to her in hopes that she'd do the same, and little by little I knew her and no matter how much I fought it, she knew me. Three months into this and I didn't have any argument left in me; the girls were right, I liked her.

So I had a stupid crush. So I bought stupid flowers. So I then proceeded to panic and left them on the counter, bringing instead the fried leftovers the kitchen had handed out at the end of the night. With styrofoam in my left and the piano in my right, I collapsed on the concrete.

"It might rain tonight."

The contents of my takeout shifted as I jumped at the sound of her voice.

The door was already open and Maka was leaning, her eyes shining just as much as her smile at my surprise. "You're late tonight."

A painfully nervous laugh twittered from my mouth. "Sorta- I dunno, just-" I spent half an hour staring at flowers, that's what. Staring at the stupid things I bought during my break and just threw on my kitchen counter because it's not like I could give them to you, not in a million fucking years!

"Was it work?" For the first time, hesitation lined her words and I turned wrinkled brows towards her. She wasn't looking at me, eyes focused entirely in the room. "Or maybe I'm just being stupid. You don't always have to come home after work. You probably…"

"Don't have a life, if that's what you're insinuating." Laughing at myself came easy, even with the tightening of her shoulders. "Just got some food, that's all. I usually cook, but the kitchen was kind tonight."

Maka let out a breathy laugh.

I popped open the lid, letting the savory scent of those fried delicacies drift out. "It's not great for you but sure as hell tastes good."

As if to agree, a terrible grumble erupted from behind the screen.

My own chuckle echoed it. "There's more than enough if you want some." I wanted that offer back as soon as I gave it, sure then that the tenuous dream I'd been living in was about to be completely decimated.

Maka sighed as her hand slowly reached up to the latch and flicked it. The screen moved, and for the first time, slim legs slid out of the opening. The curve of her body took my breath away, especially the steady swell of it as she tucked her hand under as if to hold the shape. Pregnancy wasn't what I often ran into as a bartender, but anyone could tell she'd just started showing and the grim tightness of her face as her eyes went anywhere but to mine kept my lungs empty.

"So you work at a restaurant?" The question squeaked up from her throat as her gaze finally fell on the container.

"I'm a bartender at a swanky hotel." I lifted the leftovers, setting them on the top of the rail. "Here, take 'em. I swear it's tasty. The chef's a real ass--literally has a story for everything--but he's unfortunately good at what he does." When her eyes met mine it was a fucking lightning strike; the color even more brilliant than the tiny glimpses from the door would allow. Holy fucking shit, Evans, get ahold of yourself. She's pregnant. She doesn't need your fucking schoolboy crush. All she needs is a fucking friend. "Go on."

She slowly reached up for the food, bringing it down to her lap to stare at the assortment. "What about you?"

"I don't eat much to begin with." I shrugged before picking up the keyboard and bringing it back into my lap. "Dinner's maybe a beer and then bed."

"That's not exactly a well-balanced diet," she murmured.

"And that is?" I sent a wriggling finger in her direction before bringing them back to the keys. "Just eat it, Maka." Even without the request, I started the same song, letting the loathing settle into my gut. Great, Evans, really fucking great. A crush on your pregnant neighbor. Sounds really just par for the course for you, dude. Mr. Entirely-Uncool. I let my head tip back, hitting the stucco with a little extra fervor. And here you are mentally bitching about your stupid feelings when you knew how it would end anyway. Serves you fucking right. She's lonely. She needs a friend. That's all. I swallowed each bitter bit and threw it into the press of my fingers into the keys.

There were a few crunches in between the dips of sound until finally, her voice burst over the music, "You haven't said anything."

"About what?" I kept my eyes to her face when I turned my head, mostly sure of the answer before she was going to give it.

"Soul!" My name came as a complaint from her lips, her eyes already starting to water.

I heaved a sigh before my glare sunk back to the keys. "It's not my business." I tried the melody again but only got through a few notes before letting my arms fall uselessly off the piano. "I guess… it's sorta more that I know you- if that makes sense."

"It doesn't," she muttered quickly.

I grunted as my hands tapped to my thighs in an attempt to generate some kind of lucid thought. "Whatever's going on isn't all of you." I closed my eyes, blowing frustrated air through my lips as I tilted my head back again. "Sure, it's a part, but talking to you--what we're doing right now--I like this. Whatever's going on doesn't change that."

"That's…" her voice warbled and out of the corner of my eye I could see the back of her hand rubbing at her cheek. "That's pretty cool, Soul."

"Yeah," I sighed. "That's me, Mr. Cool."


I'm never up before my alarm but since my brain is only ever really good at torturing me I was wide awake to see the flowers in the light of dawn. I'm sure this was the stuff poems were written about- the glow on the pink, white, and red petals supposed to well up some kinda love in me, but all I had was regret.

It's time to squash it.

It's time to just compact it like every other piece of bullshit you've ever felt.

The last thing a pregnant, lonely woman needs is some loser fawning over her.

Because for the past few days she'd been coming out and sitting next to me. She still asked for the same song, still talked about nothing and everything, still helped me linger through the late-night darkness. I was part of her secret now and a selfish little part of me loved that. At the same time, I knew that whatever fantasy I'd made up in my head before--that maybe we'd have that stupid cliche moment of love at first sight that utterly trumped all the feelings I had from just talking to her through the door--was over.

Again, the last fucking thing a pregnant, lonely woman needs is some loser fawning over her.

So I talked myself into standing still, waiting for her to leave me behind.

I told myself to throw away the flowers too, but… guess I didn't have the heart.

Chapter 3: Safe and Sound

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I could hear the voices from the stairwell and it sent me starting with double-time steps, clambering even with the food in my arms.

"Just let me in," the man's voice barked.

I finally hit the hall just in time to see a blue head trying to press itself into Maka's doorway. "Hey!" I couldn't stop my own bellow, even with the breathless suck of air I had to pull in after.

"Oh," Maka's mournful moan started but was instantly overpowered by the man.

He turned to me, a wild smile on his lips. "And who the fuck are you?"

"None of your fucking business, but if you talk to her like that again-"

"Soul-" Maka was starting but I was already tossing the groceries to the ground outside my door as I continued my crash course towards him.

The man let me get within a step before bursting into laughter. "Is this the Mr. Cool guy?" He didn't even bother to keep his eyes on me, just peeking back into the crack of the door. "Him?"

"Blake, I swear." She huffed and I heard the door clap shut just long enough for the chain lock to rustle off. The door creaked back open and she stepped out into the hallway, arms crossing her chest.

Blake turned on his heels and I was just about to grab his arm when I heard the air suck back into his throat. "Maka, what the fuck?"

She let out a withering sigh.

"Please just fucking tell me you ate a watermelon-"

Now I did grab for his arm, but before I even swiped, he'd already dodged me. "Listen, I don't know what think you're doing-"

"Hey, Mr. Cool, live up to your name for a second," Blake snapped over his shoulder at me before glaring back at Maka. "Can you call off your guard dog?"

"He's not-!" She stopped with a frustrated breath before sidestepping Blake and sending pleading eyes my way. "It's fine."

"Doesn't look fine," I grumbled as I shoved my hands in my pockets.

"Listen- you got beer?" Blake's hands planted on Maka's shoulders as he pushed her towards me.

It was an awkward dance, Maka pressed between the two of us as her eyes rolled. "Blake…"

"If he's got beer, we're going over there," he muttered back. "Since now I know you definitely don't have any and I need a fucking drink."

Is he seriously inviting himself over? I dropped my eyes to Maka.

Her tight-lipped smile instantly gave me the answer.

I turned with a sigh, feeling her hands touch tentatively to my back as I now jittered to get my keys in the door. Holding her hand was one thing, but that sudden soft touch had my skin burning underneath my t-shirt. I got the keys in the door just as Blake scooped the groceries from the floor in front of me.

"I still don't even know how you got here…" Maka's grumble was ridiculously close behind me and I just kept my muscles from tensing as her fingers stayed on my back.

"Marie told me to follow Stein," Blake muttered. "Hey, Mr. Cool, you gonna let us in or what?"

I threw a glare at him, finding it did not a fucking thing to stop that smug look on his face. This left me with no choice but to open the door, letting the three of us into my apartment. Blake pressed through without an ounce of hesitation, moving with strange surety into the kitchen. Then again, this place is so small, how the fuck can you miss it?

"I'm sorry."

Before I could suck in a breath to answer, her forehead was tapping against my back.

"He's a pain, but I love him. So give him a break, please?"

Love him. All attempts not to have my knees knock together failed as my gut shriveled in on itself. Is that him? The- I couldn't even bring myself to think the word let alone gather a response.

"I'll pay you back for the beer." Maka's fingers gently patted against my back before she drifted away from me, moving into the room behind Blake.

A sigh rattled in my chest, tossing around my heart as if it wasn't bruised enough. Again, how pathetic can you get? Makes fucking sense she'd love the father of her child and here you are pouting-

"Hey, Mr. Cool, you have pretty good taste!"

I followed the clink of the bottle, arriving just in time for Blake to plop himself on the counter with a beer in hand. "Thanks," I muttered. The bags were next to him, making me squeeze between the two in order to start unloading.

Another pop of his lips echoed before Blake barked, "So it was that dipshit, wasn't it?"

"Blake," Maka spat.

"Nah-"

This guy's voice was nothing but grating but all it did was suddenly toss my nerves to the side. That dipshit? So not him. They're…?

"-the calendar adds up, Maka Albarn. As far as I knew, you were still living with that asshole but suddenly I find you in a new apartment and knocked up? Too much of a coincidence." I turned my head just in time to see him brandishing the bottle in her direction.

"Could we not talk about this now?" Maka's eyes rolled in my direction.

"I don't give a shit if Mr. Cool hears." Blake turned his glare towards me. "You just keep your mouth shut- though from what I hear it ain't that hard for you to do that."

I settled on just grabbing the perishables and moving towards the fridge. "Listen, I'll just put these away and get out of your fucking hair."

"Soul-"

"It's fine, Maka. Like I said, it's not my business." And I'm spineless, aren't I? I heaved another sigh as I tossed the milk and eggs before dragging my yellow belly all the way to my room. The door squealed as I eased it shut before sliding over to my bed. I let my knees buckle, sending me for a hard fall to the lumpy mattress. An instant trickle of regret hit me as my fingers searched uselessly along the seams of my jeans for something to do. My piano was still by the door, ruining any chance I had for some kind of catharsis.

The murmurs wandered on the other side of the door as I tried to ignore the cadence. There were plenty of stresses with highs that hit the roof. Blake's crowing reminded me of Wes's violin strikes, those wild, spikey notes. No matter how much I tried to change the tune, my shoulders kept clenching with each scale. She said to let him be. As if that mantra even started to quell that new protective urge that had started rearing its ugly head at every turn. I put my head in my hand and tried to pull the idea out with each run of my fingers through my hair. I'm not responsible for her. She doesn't even seem like the type that wants to be taken care of. She's doing this on her own, isn't she?

A knock stuttered nervously against the door.

"Yeah?" I croaked as I took the opportunity to level one last anxious stroke through my spikey strands.

Maka let the door squeak open as she leaned against the frame. "Let me make you dinner."

"Huh?" My hands dropped, eyes definitely bugging at least momentarily.

"I literally just let my best friend drink your beer and use your apartment." She threw a frustrated hand through her own hair before shaking her head. "So dinner is the least I can do. Are you- would you like to come over?"

The easy answer sat on my tongue as I dropped my eyes to my hands that were now in my lap, worrying together.

She huffed, "What's your last name?"

"Huh?"

"Your last name," she ordered.

I blinked at her dumbfounded as she glared at me. "E-Evans."

Maka stood up straight, smacking her hands to her hips. "Soul Evans, first answer that comes to mind: Do you want to come over and eat dinner with me?"

"Yes."

That induced a beaming smile. "So you can stop overthinking for one second." With an entire glow of victory, she dropped her hands and started to motion me forward.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I managed to grumble as I got to my feet. In the process of muttering to myself, I ceased paying attention to the flail of my hand, clipping the cup I'd put the flowers in and sending it tumbling to the floor.

"Oh no!" She was taking useless stumbling steps forward since there was no way for her to catch the bouquet before it took a nosedive. Instead, I scooped her, keeping her from joining it on the floor.

"It's just flowers," I teased as I righted her on her feet.

"They're pretty though, and the water's everywhere!" She was scolding right back as she slipped from my hands, leaving the room just as quickly as I'd tossed the blossoms.

A pathetically forlorn breath fluttered over my lips as I dropped to my knees, trying my best to gather the blooms without making a mess of the petals. As I got most of them together, Maka was back with towels in hand, sopping up the water they'd left behind.

"I'm surprised," she murmured.

"I can answer without overthinking," I griped.

"No…" Maka let a giggle take her, having to press the back of her hand to her lip to stop its cute twittering. "You have flowers in your room. I guess I wasn't expecting that. I want to say I didn't think you were the type but…" She dropped the towels to the floor as she squinted at me through the glow of her smile. "I guess I can't say I know exactly what type you are, Soul Evans."

I forced something close to a snort, trying out a grumbling laugh that was definitely closer to a deflated bit of air. Because they're for you, you know? But I guess you wouldn't figure that either since… since I'm such a fucking coward. I let my eyes linger down to the stems gathered in my hands. My hands trembled and I was sure those petals would fall like rain even in the short distance between the two of us as I pushed them into her palms left empty after the cleaning. "Maybe that means you should take 'em."

"I didn't mean-"

I produced a good enough rendition of a scoff. "I know by now if you wanted 'em you'd ask outright. I'm just saying that they're sorta wasted on me. Be better if you had 'em."

Her fingers slowly closed around the flowers and my own, gathering both together. There were a few slow, calculated breaths before she murmured, "It's not nice to give away things that other people gave to you though."

"Who said anybody gave 'em to me?" I muttered back as I desperately tried to extract my fingers. None of the past hours had been in the green, but suddenly it was all sirens in my head. Death, could you be more of a weirdo? A girl touches you, talks to you, and takes a gift from you and you're what? A complete fucking mess. "They're mine. Now they're yours." That finality came with a jerky squeak from my throat.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." Her eyes were drilling holes in my cheek but I couldn't move a muscle. Look at her, flash a smile. Be Wes for one fucking minuteIf you could just be like that instead of whatever the fuck you are-!

"Come on. I have to start dinner." Maka tapped gently at my elbow as she started to try to angle to get towards standing. Her center of gravity wasn't perfect anymore though and I instantly hopped to my feet to grab her elbows and get her steadily up. "And you're going to eat something, OK? Not just a beer and bed tonight."

I couldn't do much more than nod because for a split second she was close enough to being in my arms, the flowers delicately pressed between the two of us. Yeah, OK, this was sorta what poetry was made of; the color of the petals were completely different as they sat against her chest, brightening the color on her cheeks. Her smile was the worst part, mostly teasing but a bit serious- a bit like she meant it. Fucking Death, there was no squashing this.

Because here was the fantasy again-- If I was Wes, I would clear that little bit of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear and letting my fingertip run along its edge. I'd tell her that the flowers weren't from anybody because they were for her, to brighten her day because isn't that what flowers do? And there would go that perfect, suave laugh that made any face go red accompanied by the signature Evans smirk. Wes would already have her wrapped around his finger--pregnant or no--and hanging on his every word.

Instead, here was the reality-- I stuttered through another breath while trying to tramp down any last ounce of longing. Because while she was smiling at me, it was because I was being a good friend. I'm not Wes, so these sorta smiles from girls are the thank-yous for being a good listener, for playing my part right. Maybe I was handsome, and yeah, I could sure as hell live up to the Mr. Cool moniker--leather jacket and motorcycle and all--but on the inside, I was anything but. So when any girl finally caught a glimpse of that--the insecurity, the fucking anxious depression of it all--they moved on. And, honestly, I don't blame 'em.

"Depends," I muttered as I surfaced from the tumultuous bullshit of my thoughts. "Don't know what kinda cook you are so…"

That earned me a playful push to my chest, our closeness finally breaking with the sweet addition of her laugh. "You're the worst! I invite you over and you trash my cooking before even trying it!"

She was starting the walk down the hall so I followed after, trailing a few steps behind. "Well, I've only ever seen you eat takeout, so…" Here I managed a smirk, a glimpse of glowing teeth at her as she flipped her head over her shoulder.

"Because you gave it to me!" Her lips puckered into a frown.

I settled into this, letting her teasing play against mine. Yeah, that's what I am: a good friend.


As soon as I started running the tap her voice flashed from across the small kitchen: "What are you doing?"

"Washing the dishes," I muttered to the suds.

"What?" Now I could hear the scramble to her feet and I couldn't stop myself from seizing up, knowing her hands were coming. As predicted, I got a firm tug on my elbow. "Soul, you can't wash my dishes."

"You made dinner," I tried to offer this as flatly as possible. "Fair exchange."

"I made dinner because I owed you!" Her fingers were now incessantly yanking at me, trying to derail a process I wasn't about to stop. "If you do the dishes-"

"We're still even," I cut in firmly. At this point, I'd gotten pretty good at feeling her eyes on me without having to see the glare and boy was she fucking burning them into me then. I wiggled my elbow but her fingers refused to fall so I just kept at it, swinging her arm with mine with each dish. The way she clutched you like a kid always struck me as strange but at the same time, it wasn't as if I had much practice at how often or when contact was allowed so I sat with it. Sorta reveled in it, to be honest.

"About Blake…"

"Not my business" sat on my tongue. Instead of saying it, I kept scrubbing away at a spot that didn't exist.

"I'm used to the way he is since we grew up together," she sighed out into my silence. "He's always been brash and abrasive but… he's honest and caring, too. Sort of the older brother that you roll your eyes at but in the end can't live without. So don't take what he says personally, or…"

"'Mr. Cool,'" I grumbled.

A flustered bit of air came from her direction, but I was switching to the next plate to find more invisible stains. "I mentioned you. Like I said, you're the only person who I've really been seeing- been with-" she jumped through each phrase, each one leading to a more anxious search for the next "-the only thing I'd have to mention was work if I didn't talk about you, so-!"

"So, you talk about your neighbor with him."

"My friend," she corrected with a snap that stung my gut just as much as my ear. "We usually talk once a week but I should have known something was up since he purposefully called- he…" Her forehead met my shoulder and I froze, listening to her breath and watching as the bubbles popped one by one. "He's such a pain in the ass," her tear-saturated whisper hit my sleeve. "I still didn't know what to say today other than I made a mistake."

Mistake. That word was a wasp stinging in my ear, riling up some instinct to fight. Even with "not my business" pressing in on one side, the other half of my brain had a fire lit, sending out the croaking whisper, "Think you should stop calling it that. You made a choice, not a mistake."

That brought the heat of her sigh along with the tears on my arm. "I really wish it felt that way."

I tapped the counter, fingers needing more work than the dishes were giving me to dull the ache in my chest. "What exactly's the mistake?"

There were only a few more huffs of breath before she murmured, "I thought it was none of your business."

"S'not-" I tried to strip that bare of feeling "-so maybe that's why you tell me and then I tell you whether or not it's really a mistake. No bias." No bias my ass, Evans.

Her grip on me tightened, fingers needing into my skin as if searching for warmth, or maybe just a handhold to keep her steady. "Last year, I realized we weren't in love anymore." Her voice was so small it was almost entirely swallowed by the swish of the water so I turned off the tap. "Or at least I wasn't, but we'd been together for so long that I-I wanted to try." The next breath she pulled in was warbled, wet around the edges as I felt another rogue teardrop on my arm. "Because if I try hard enough, I can make anything perfect."

The defeat there was drowning her and I could hear her gulping for air.

"And I was perfect."

I pulled my hand from the suds and wiped it on my shirt before reaching for her desperate fingers. I couldn't pry her loose but at least I could put mine over hers.

At the sensation, she sucked in another breath. "I thought maybe we were just in a rut so I tried. I copied whatever I thought had made us fall in love, but… the more I did, the more Brian just seemed to stay the same." A woeful moan was only half-swallowed by her lips, turning it into an off-tune buzz. "Just steady and the same, so I knew the problem was me! And then--I swear I wasn't trying to do this--but I was late. Together all of college and of course it wasn't until things were going wrong that I realized I was late and I told him and-and-"

That senseless anger was starting to climb up my ribs like a rabid animal, snapping.

"I made a mistake." The word cut into my rage, numbing it just enough to turn my eyes to her rather than the water. She had raised her head, bleary green eyes blinking up at me. "I told him and all he said was 'let's get married then' and I-I said 'no.'"

I couldn't stop my brow from furrowing as I tightened my grip on her. "That's the mistake?"

"Why couldn't I just say 'yes?'" She asked me the question as if it was mine to answer. "I just had to be selfish, didn't I? Just making a headstrong, gut decision that if I didn't love him how could I raise a child with him? How could I pretend? But that's not fair to the baby, is it? It's wrong."

Honestly, she was telling me the boat was sinking and we were above water with no sign of a leak. All I could do was blink until I gathered enough sense to shake my head. "You think your kid could be happy if you weren't?" I could hear Wes yelling in the back of my head about that constant lesson of succinct versus soft but the words were already free. All I could do was watch them smack her in the face.

"But a family-" She started but when the wrinkle in my forehead didn't release her lip just fluttered uselessly.

"Trust me-" hoarsely scraped against the back of my throat "-parents who make a show of it--staying together for the kids or to save face--ain't better."

Her eyes widened, urging one last slip of tears down her cheeks.

"Don't think that's much of a mistake," I muttered as my eyes trailed back to the bubbles.

"Soul…"

I couldn't look at her, my free hand digging into the sink while the other still clamped tightly to hers. "He tell you it was a mistake?"

The only sound I got in reply was a trembling breath.

"Gonna guess he did." I tried to pull in the air as slowly as I could, filling my lungs until they ached. "Then you moved out?"

"I-" it squeaked from her throat and suddenly her hands were gone, slipping back. For all the fear of it, her hands leaving me was a worse wound, making me jerk towards her. She had pulled back just enough to get her hands over her face, disappearing behind the mask of her fingers. Her head was shaking, the blonde strands that sprinkled her shoulders waving with each move.

Blake's pleasant additions of "dipshit" and "asshole" were playing through my head.

"Maka, did he make you leave?"

Her shoulders shuddered before her hands parted just enough for her hiccuping lips to release the words: "I wanted to try. I thought even though we couldn't be a family, at least he could be a father, but-"

All or nothing. She was choking on sobs just as much as I was on rage, that old guard dog in me ready to bite. I know this feeling. I've been here before, angry, wanting to protect someone I- So I repeated the moment, for once reliving a past that wasn't one of those times that my idiocy brought my life spiraling down. I reached for her, not a well-practiced motion but one I could manage even in my rusty state. It struck me as strange- how tiny she was. Not that I hadn't noticed the height difference, but engulfing her in my arms made her feel so much more delicate than she'd ever looked.

Somehow, the picture of her in my mind was always saturated with such stubbornness and strength. I didn't want to delude myself into thinking it was just because of me, but as soon as I had her steady she bent, broke. She crumbled into me and there was no stopping the flood. She was fighting for a death grip on my shirt as bitter gulps of air pulled from the barely-there separation from her face and my chest. "You can tell 'em." The rumble of those words in my chest brought a little bit of relief, a small section of my fury drifting away. "Nobody who loves you is gonna bat an eye at that because he was wrong. You did what was right for the baby and he did what was easiest for him. Ain't the same."

I didn't get a reply, but I didn't need it. I'd never actually been sure if I was right--hell, if I was ever right about anything--but I took comfort in the way her tears slowly disappeared. When her breaths became steady against my shirt, I tried again. "Obviously, I don't know all that much about being pregnant, but… it sounds like you want your baby to be happy, to have the best they can, so whatever you did to make sure that happened wasn't a mistake."

She sighed, her shoulders only shimmying slightly with the force of it.

"Just maybe hold off on telling Blake since I think he might kill the guy."

Maka let a weak laugh tremble between us next, followed by a sniffle. "He was sort of threatening that even without the finer details."

"Makes sense." Something close to a chuckle hummed in my chest. "Wouldn't mind joining in, honestly."

Her fingers tensed, a quick tightness before she mostly released, making me do the same. "Soul, you… I don't know why you bother." When her eyes hit me, red-ringed and bleary, there was a solid accusation there that I couldn't suss out.

Why do I bother? Easy. You're only the second person in my life who's seen me--really seen me--and not sneered at it. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're a good cook." I managed a smirk and was instantly rewarded with one of those melodic little giggles as her hand came to her face to clear away the mess. "It ain't hard to listen, anyway. Not doing all that much work. Now, the piano playing, that's work. Might have to start charging you my regular hotel fee since I'm getting sick of playing my song for you."

Her face curled up, both lip and forehead moving instantly. "It's a good song, Soul."

"Again, you have shit taste." My mind lingered on reaching for her, and somewhere in the fantasy, I could see myself helping her clear away the last few tears on her cheeks. I shoved that hand in my pocket instead. "You really don't ask for anything else anymore, and at this point, you should be sick of hearing it."

"I'm not," she complained. I was sure she was turning away since she seemed to teeter on her feet but instead of leaving she was leaning into me again. She stopped just a breath away, her hands thinking better before digging into my shirt again. "I feel like a little kid, but… can you hold me again?"

Damn, was I ever glad that she was tucking her chin to hide those eyes from me, or else she would have seen the red drift up my cheeks to the tips of my ears.

She wavered a step back as she laughed weakly. "I'm such a mess- I'm sorry. I really shouldn't-"

I convinced myself it was self-preservation that made me grab her since I was still dreading her catching any view of my utter embarrassment at the question. Tucking her against me again didn't exactly help with that issue, instead making my heart thrum enough blood to turn my tan to lobster. "'Nother thing that ain't that hard to do," I muttered breathlessly. I knew then that I'd do the dishes a million times if it meant I could finish the night like that. Not her crying or desperately holding on to me, but breathing steady breaths against my chest like life wasn't in a shambles. Like maybe the safety of my arms wasn't such a bad place to be.

Notes:

hey all, I'm going on vacation until the 2nd, so there won't be any updates at all since I'm forcing myself to take a real break. Much love 😘

Chapter 4: Something Sweet

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Again, I ain't making up some dream world where I have any sway over her, but the next day it was like a pilgrimage had opened up in the apartment next door. As I got dressed for work, I could hear the hum of a few different voices. I recognized the one squawking--Blake--but the others were entirely new. A soft, tiny tone was twittering high and wild while the other more tender, melodious one seemed to seep through every time one of the others was quiet. Death, Evans, be more pathetic! Listening to voices like it's any of your business. People aren't just music notes- aren't just songs. Stop being a creep.

The hefty sigh I let out didn't have any space to resound in the living room especially as the knocking started.

"Oi, Mr. Cool, let me in!"

I grimaced but honestly didn't have a choice. I had to be out that door within fifteen minutes or I would never hear the end of it from Liz so I clomped slow and steady footsteps towards the utterly impatient banging. I opened the door without greeting, just raising my eyebrows to half-mast.

Blake leaned into the frame, ready to cut past me into the apartment. "Come on, let me in," he griped.

"I gotta go to work," I grumbled back.

"Ah, fuck, at least let me get a beer before you go!"

I grunted- which just ended up being something he took as an invitation as he ducked until my arm. I waited, listening to the clink of bottles and the smack of the fridge door. "Hurry up!" I tossed over my shoulder just in time for his spikey head to pop into view.

"Chill," Blake cooed before tilting back the bottle he'd just opened. "I'll just never make it through those three having a reunion without one of these. Technically, I'd rather hang with you, but since you gotta work…" He shrugged amiably enough, but I couldn't stop my eyebrows from wrinkling.

"Hang with me?" I offered before immediately mentally facepalming since there wasn't a fucking chance I could get more self-deprecating.

"Yeah, you seem pretty cool." He chuckled at the word but none of the friendliness left his face. He slipped under my still extended arm again before stopping, his own face suddenly mirroring my own confusion. "Though, I sorta don't get what your deal is."

Somehow the questions kept wanting to pop from my mouth, so I allowed the next: "My deal?"

"Like… you know she's pregnant, right?" Blake hitched a thumb in the direction of the other apartment.

"Kinda hard not to notice," I muttered.

He snorted another laugh. "Yo, seriously, don't let her hear you say that! I called her 'round' the other day-"

"Don't fucking do that," I griped before my lips formed a tight frown.

"What- she's getting bigger every day!" Blake interrupted himself with a good cackle. "But that isn't what I'm getting at. I'm not saying she's going back to that dipshit anytime soon--she better fucking not--but…" He trailed off there to take a long draw from the bottle. Even after his lips plopped off the rim he was silent, giving the beer a swish in his cheeks.

"I'm just her friend." That period came with the clap of my front door, and I only paused to wiggle the knob to make sure it was locked before starting for my freedom. Since there was no way in hell I was going to explain "my deal" to anyone in the fucking universe, let alone the guy she called a brother.

"You're not one of those creeps with a pregnancy fetish, right?"

I paused to toss as much disgust over my shoulder as I could- a sneer partnered with a grunt.

He split his smirk with the bottle for a moment before continuing, "Seriously doubt she's into that kinda stuff."

"We're friends," I hissed before turning back towards the stairs. I got maybe two steps before his laughter was echoing so loud that it was reverberating up my spine. "What?" I snapped as I stopped again, this time only turning enough to get him in my periphery.

Blake shot up one and a half innocent hands, one with a few fingers still keeping his beer in place. "Nothin'. If you're such a good friend though, why don't you say 'bye' before work?" His eyebrows raised in a strange sort of challenge, making the hair tingle at the base of my neck.

Technically, Blake was between me and the door since I'd been trying to beeline for the stairs. It made no sense especially since it wasn't like her apartment was on the way, but… What'll I get if I do that? A smile? A giggle? Maybe… Death, am I so fucking pathetic that I think I'd get a hug out of it? Am I that desperate? No matter how much those questions made my stomach shrivel, I still started the slow steps back in Blake's direction. As soon as I got past him he was on my tail, a shorter shadow as I knocked on her door.

"Blake, seriously-" her complaint came almost instantly and so did the turn of the knob. When the door opened, I got the best view of wide green eyes staring up at me. "Soul?"

"Returnin' what you lost." I hitched a thumb over my shoulder at Blake. As I let a look slip over my shoulder I saw him grinning like a fool, only marring it with another tip back of his bottle.

"Blake!" Her voice peaked with chiding. "I can't believe you!" She half bumped into me to get into the position to grab for him. Blake was nothing more than a pesky fly avoiding a newspaper, zipping past her grasp to wriggle into the tiny space she'd left behind. In the exchange, he'd tipped her into me, leaving Maka to either hit the floor or my arms.

You can imagine which one I let happen.

"I'm sorry!" There was that sweet little mournful lilt to her voice. As if that wasn't enough to make me blush, she didn't seem too inclined to slip out of my grip even after I'd righted her on her feet. "That idiot hedonist- I bet he didn't even ask!"

"Sorta." I couldn't help but laugh, especially as that puffed out the pout in her lip even more. She was impossibly close and I was impossibly lost in it. It was stupid, but even the pace of her breath was nice, the tempo of the rise and fall. And this is what you wanted, wasn't it? Just getting another minute of her in your arms. "Ain't a big deal, Maka."

"It is," she urged back as she threatened to mess up my tie with her fingers trying to find space on my shirt. "And now you're late for work, aren't you?"

I shrugged.

Maka spent one more minute toying with my tie before she stepped back, leaving my empty arms to hover. Her eyes skimmed over my face before looking back over her shoulder with a sigh. Some murmur came from her mouth.

I couldn't help myself, leaning closer to try to catch the end of whatever she was saying. Instead of getting me any clarity on her words, it got me the closest view I'd ever had of her eyes as she turned back towards me. My heart instantly leaped up to get lodged in my throat, leaving me without anything to do but gape and wish for air.

The only movement from her was a bat of her eyelashes before she murmured, "Soul, what are you-"

"Sorry!" I jumped back into the next county, my shoulder knocking into the doorframe as I scuttled back. It was her turn to offer tender hands, grasping at my waist to steady me.

"Hey-" she interrupted herself with a giggle as her fingers still fretted into the sides of my shirt "-after work, come over. I'll make you dinner again."

It took everything I had not to gape again like a fish outta water, just opening my mouth enough to squeeze out: "It'll be late."

"I know." Her answers always seemed to come back not even a breath after mine, just another instance of that go-for-it mentality of hers that I was actually sorta starting to envy. "I'm up anyway- you know that. Plus, another stolen beer-"

I fiddled with her hands, detaching them from my side but finding them fighting for my fingers. I don't want payback. I'm starting to hate that all of this is because you feel sorry for me. I knew I should let those words out into the world, but my courage withered just as much as my stomach.

"Soul-"

"Sissy, come on!" The high note from before was now attached to an angelic face with doe eyes that could probably guilt the devil and golden blonde hair. The little girl ran into Maka's knees, clasping tightly. "Who are you?" she shot accusingly up at me, arms circling Maka as if daring me to try to take her away.

"Shelley-" Maka already had the motherly scolding down pat "-that's not how you ask. Try again."

Shelley started to roll her eyes but Maka cleared her throat, pausing the motion in the little girl. "I'm Shelley. Who are you?"

I snorted a laugh regardless of Maka's annoyance. I sunk down on my haunches, getting face to face with Shelley. "Soul. I'm Maka's friend."

Her eyes shot up to Maka's, clearly skeptical eyebrows rising up her forehead.

"My good friend, so be nice," she ordered.

"Mr. Cool still here?" Blake crowed from somewhere but Maka didn't have a second to answer before the older version of the girl in front of me appeared.

Between 'sissy' and genetics, I could only guess this was her mother. With the way the woman's hands fell to her hips along with an appraising gaze that saw all the way down to my guts, I was starting to place money on that assumption. Maka's nervous smile only piled onto it, making me instantly jump to my feet and offer an all-Wesley greeting. "Sorry to bust in on your family gathering."

She eyed my hand before taking it-- fuck did she have a vice grip! I was sure my bones were crumbling to dust but her voice was all sweetness. "Well, you're not who I thought you were, so I guess you're forgiven."

"Marie, this is Soul. He lives next door." She added a little Vanna White whirl of her hand. "And I've already made him late for work so…" On the next revolution, that soft hand came with a firm shove to my shoulder.

"Ah, yeah," I mumbled through half a smile. "Nice to meet you, Marie. Maka, I'll- uh, guess I'll see you-"

"Tonight," she corrected.

Between Maka's urgency and the way Marie's eyebrows raised inquisitively, all I had hoped to do was try to ignore the burning pink of my face. I grumbled something that was supposed to be a goodbye but my panic had me strangled. It didn't help that Marie's giggles were just as strong as Maka's, following me all the way to work.


The storeroom had the two things that I desperately needed: quiet and cold. Which was why I usually found myself meditating in the far left corner every time I was blessed with a break. The girls had gotten to calling it "the time-out corner" but I'll have you know that it was anything but a punishment; well, it wasn't until one of those two, or Death forbid both of them intruded. As I opened one lazy eye in response to the creak of the door, I realized I was in for the rack.

Liz had that deliberate saunter going, the one that told me she was nowhere near mincing words. "What's bugging you?"

I attempted to answer with just a shrug, but let it wither into a sigh as all that did was sour Liz's face and make Tsu drop a knee next to me.

Tsu was doing that thing she always did with her hand, that soft, motherly pat to your shoulder that was supposed to heal all wounds. "Soul, it's not like we're not used to you being quiet-"

"But you're literally mute tonight!" Liz finished that with the oomph it deserved, sans-sweetness. My shoulders moved a millimeter before Liz intercepted my shrug with a not so delicate foot. "You're not getting out of this by playing the strong-silent type."

"We're really worried," Tsu murmured as she continued to nudge me. "Wes hasn't come back yet, has he?"

I couldn't stop the wrinkle of my lip, so I added a shake of my head to finish that idea.

"If you're lonely-" Tsu started.

"Nah." I finally offered a syllable, making them both exchange a look before Liz finally stopped using me as a footrest. "Ain't about them. It's-" Telling the truth--nah, telling anything has always come with as much pleasure as chewing on aspirin. Except for Maka. Talking to Maka always just… I tossed another sigh before turning my head so I could pretend my mumbling was all to the corner. "I got invited to dinner." Any long, simultaneous silence from the two of them was way too unnerving, forcing me to turn my head back to two wide-eyed faces. "Hey, I'm not a complete loser."

"No, that's not-" Tsu shook her head firmly before looking up at Liz.

"So you're happy?" She filled in Tsu's blank with as much disbelief as I'd ever seen her muster.

"Sorta." I knew it was a mistake but I started another shrug. In an instant, Liz was shouldered up to Tsu to make a terrifying wall of concerned faces. "We've had dinner before," I muttered as some kinda disclaimer.

Both sets of eyebrows jumped before Tsu doled out the softest voice, "Is this the girl you like?"

It took at least two agonizingly long breaths before I could manage the lamest reply: "Yeah."

"Alright." Tsu settled those words cheerfully as she popped to her feet, dragging Liz with her. "We'd love to hear about it tomorrow, wouldn't we, Liz?"

Liz's reply was a wrinkle of her lips that matched the divet in her brow. Whatever reprieve Tsu was trying to give me was settling like a stone for her. She let Tsu pull her a couple of steps before she tugged back. "Bring dessert."

"Huh?" I blinked, wide-eyed.

"If a girl is inviting you to dinner all the time you should be bringing something with you, and since I assume the flower conversation went nowhere, maybe dessert is more your speed." She waved a knowing finger in my direction. "And don't skimp! Bring more than one. Hell, tell Ex to make you a tasting plate. I'm sure if you listen to one of his asinine stories for long enough he'll do you a favor."

All I could do was nod, half-starstruck by the suggestion. That's… date stuff, isn't it?

"Seriously, Soul, I better see you leave tonight with two boxes or I'm going to shave that beloved hair of yours in your sleep." Liz continued to spit threats as Tsu led her off, offering me a happy little wave before pushing the older blonde out of the door.

"Dessert," I sighed out to the room. "And you admitted you liked her, you dumbass." I pulled in my legs, giving space for my chin to sit on my knees. I knew the quiet chasm wasn't going to answer me but I waited for some kinda cosmic retribution for my mistakes. When nothing came, I readied myself for another chef story because, well, I kinda had no choice. It was the flowers all over again- or maybe…


My phone was buzzing as soon as I got out of the shower. One glance had me scrambling, almost wiping out as the beads of water plopped to the ground to create a minefield. "Wes?"

"Hello, little brother-" came his usual overexcited call. I could totally say that I hated the enthusiasm, but the need for it was sinking into my bones.

"Hey." I collapsed into my desk chair with the towel lazily wrapped around my waist. There were a million and ten words sitting on my tongue, but none of them would come.

"Did you just get off work?"

"Yeah," I murmured. "It's morning over there?"

"Late morning. Just dropped Reggie off at the play center so that Viv could get some work done. I was traipsing around the park and thought maybe I had the timing right…"

"You're fine."

"Good!" He expelled that signature Wes laugh, the one that you couldn't help but echo, even though mine had that constant nervous twinge. "How was work?"

"Same as always." I started to scratch at the corner of the towel, pulling on a random thread.

"Still at the hotel?"

"Yeah."

"Any new producing prospects?" That came with an upwards fluctuation, that nosing wondering that he knew was going to get him into trouble.

"Not more than usual." Technically, that was the truth, but it was mostly my own fault. Working two jobs left little time for a third, so hunting for projects had hit an all-time low especially since… well, those late-night creative hours were kinda stolen by a certain blonde on a certain balcony.

A hum buzzed over the line, a start and stop breath breaking it before Wes started again, "Have you given any more thought to Viv's offer?"

"Well…" Yeah, Wes, I think about it all the time. Doing what I actually went to school for sounds great. The only problem is what if I suck at it? What if Viv gives me this foot in the door and I end up just getting crushed? How do I live with that? Disappoint her? Disappointing me?

"I know she said you'd talk again when we got back, but…" For a second, he sounded like me, heaving a sigh the weight of his soul. "I'm worried about you."

"Thanks, Dad," I immediately snapped back.

He brushed that away with a huff. "The job's not the issue, Soul- you're stuck."

"I'm fine," I tried to urge back but the word cracked into pieces on my tongue. It wasn't until then that I noticed the wetness on my cheeks, the way those tears had snuck by.

"You don't sound fine." I'd never really heard a likeness between Wes and Dad, but there it was. That wasn't some soft, playful banter, that was an accusation.

While my normal reaction to those--especially from Dad--was a good ol' helping of opposition, I cracked. I blinked out another wave of tears as I rested my head in my free hand. Wes, I'm scared. Wes, I don't know what I want or really what I do want seems all wrong. Wes, I'm sick of this. Wes, I want you to come home. Wes, Wes, Wes! "I gotta go."

"Soul-"

"Bye, Wes." I lowered the phone while hitting the red button on the screen. Next step was tossing it towards the bed--thankfully it landed there instead of crashing and cracking--and listening to it buzz repeatedly as Wes tried to call back. With my other hand free, I simply cradled my head, letting the liquid pool and drip to the towel still covering my legs. Pathetic. That word grated down my spine.

I can only assume I lost track of time, my focus entirely on the saltwater deluge that was populating my cheeks. It wasn't until the knocking started that I came back to my senses. "Did you forget?" Maka's voice was far off but still going strong through the front door.

"No," I groaned mournfully as I stood. I threw the towel on the back of my chair as I went over to the drawers, tossing on a t-shirt and boxers. Wiping my face did nothing but I tried a few more rounds as I padded towards the door. "Listen, Maka-"

"Dinner is way past ready, Soul, and I'm not taking 'no' for an answer-" her voice smacked me through the door, one order after another "-since you have to eat."

A lengthy sigh was useless at steadying my tenor, leaving it wilting and weak. "Just… give me fifteen. I-I ain't…"

"Open the door."

"I ain't dressed."

"Naked?"

"No."

"Then let me in." I'd never even heard that firm of an order from my own mother.

Alright, great. Let her in. Let her see you like this. Time to really pop the bubble, right? Let reality in and let her see exactly how much of a fuck up you are. Air barely stuttered into my chest as I opened the door a crack but left the rest of the momentum up to her.

I barely got my hand away in time before Maka barrelled through the door, eyes already narrowed in annoyance at being left. As soon as she honed in on the red rings around my eyes and the flushed cheeks, inertia suddenly stripped away from her. "You're crying."

It wasn't a question so an answer seemed unnecessary, but I sorta bobbed my head in agreement as I turned away from her. Staring at the wall, I waited for the door to shut, for her to be gone, for me to crawl back into whatever hole I'd been creating over the past year. Instead, it was the last thing I was expecting: delicate hands sliding around my waist, pulling my back firmly to her chest even with the awkwardness of the curve of the baby stuck between us. Oxygen was a thing of the past. Even considering breathing was out. There wasn't an iota of space, no place for me to convince myself this wasn't her trying to comfort me- reach me.

"What happened?" she murmured against my spine, leaving a chill in the wake of her words.

"I-" was all I could croak, especially as a fresh wash of tears rolled down my face.

"Maybe it's none of my business-" her arms were so tight around me they should have been threatening to suffocate but instead it held me together "-but I want to help. Please."

I used the back of my hand to clear my face, pulling in a breath that wasn't shallow even with her squeezing me. "I'm pathetic."

"Crying isn't-"

"Nah-" I chuckled ruefully "-crying ain't the problem. I just… never do anything right." That was the understatement of the year but was about the same as tearing my heart out and handing it to her. This was something no one was supposed to see, let alone the girl that was starting to creep into my thoughts more often than not.

And instead of some overboard reaction, Maka just held me and waited in total silence beside the repeat of her breath against my back.

My feet were slipping into quicksand, my knees starting to wobble as I was pulled under by every last feeling I'd ever swallowed. "I used to think I was cool." How that fucking ripped from my throat! "Twelve- thirteen I was fine but… the more I grew up, the more I started being not enough." Bitter laughs bubbled out just to pull more tears. "More I started realizing I was just a useless second to my brother."

Maka's hands moved but her lips didn't. The gentle way her fingers spread over my heart, holding it in place and keeping all those jagged little edges from crumbling meant more than words.

"It ain't his fault," I croaked before trying to clear my face again. "And I don't blame him for living his life--he deserves it--but it'd be fucking great not to have the comparison."

"Who compares you?" she murmured.

"Parents," I grunted back. "But even not talking to them for a year, I still hear it in my fucking head. I don't even need 'em here, I got whatever they'd say on blast in the back of my mind no matter what I do. That's why-" Fear cut the spill. I was trying not to let the intimacy of it seep in, but in my silence she opened her hand, tapping impatiently at my chest. Is this the way friends touch? Is this what comforting is?

Finally, her whisper puffed against my back. "You second-guess yourself into staying frozen?"

It wasn't the first time my words had been used against me, but it was sure one of the shittiest.

"Soul…" She released me and to my surprise it was then that I couldn't breathe, the constriction of her arms not stealing my air but making it easy to pull in. In the absence of her, I was going to fucking pieces. Before I could give that the panic it deserved, her hands were on my arm, manually turning me. I wanted to have control over the momentum but it all disintegrated as soon as I got a flash of her eyes in my periphery. "There's plenty of cliche things to say: you matter, you're not pathetic, you're enough. Except that doesn't fix it or really mean anything does it?" Maka heaved a sigh but her fingers didn't drop from me, just running down my arm until she could pull my hands into hers. "So I guess I don't care how selfish this sounds, but you're useful to me."

Usually, I was a pro at keeping that mask in place but it had entirely washed away with my tears, leaving her to see wide eyes and a trembling lip.

"Honestly, I don't know what the past few months would have been like if you-" She cut off with her own look of surprise before a muted bit of her smile appeared. "You're not stuck." That came with all her textbook surety like it'd been written in the stars. "Would someone who's stuck have played for me?"

I wrinkled my lip but couldn't give a reply.

"Or offered their name?" She squeezed at my fingers with all of the excitement of a kid seeing Santa. "Or even bothered to answer my questions? To talk and ask me to talk back? Is all of that someone who wants to stay exactly like they are?"

I could only shake my head- and it honestly wasn't about just pleasing her. While I rarely hung on to rational arguments about me, I latched onto her words just enough to let them settle. It's true. No matter how much I bitched about it in my head, I did it. I stepped forward because… because it was her next to me.

"So for a second-" she murmured as she blinked up at me expectantly "-can you give yourself a break? You're a good person, Soul. I-I like the person that you are, and while Blake's probably out there somewhere cackling about how I like just about everyone, it's more than that. It was easy with you." A bit of mystery was wrinkling her brow like she was trying to read the fine print on my face.

What are you seeing right now? What do you see when you look at me? Those questions were dying to be off my tongue but I swallowed them bitterly instead. So much for moving forward, huh, Evans? Prove her wrong just as soon as- for once, I swallowed that too. Small steps- I pressed back with whatever determination I could muster. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she chirped back immediately. "Dinner?"

I sucked in a wobbly breath. "Guess so."

"Come on." She dropped one of our connected hands but kept the other to pull me forward. We got a few steps before I slowed to a stop.

"Maka, I sorta gotta get dressed."

Her head popped over her shoulder to look me over, a little bit of pink coming to her cheeks. "Oh! I-I forgot. Sorry!"

That last bit of heaviness was fluttering away and I let the urge to chuckle take me. That was cute… I tried not to hear or feel the doubt rattling around that. Don't fall down that hole, Evans. You said you were gonna squash it. I bit back a sigh as I turned and slipped my hand out of hers to walk back to my bedroom. I tossed on yesterday's jeans as quickly as I could, coming back to find her waiting patiently in the living room. "One more thing…" I muttered, sure that my cowardice was going to catch up with me as I moved to the kitchen.

"Soul, you better not be stalling-" there was that motherly scolding again that she was just too good at. "At this rate, you can't complain if dinner is cold."

"I ain't-" I got enough of a growl behind that to sound annoyed. "Have a little patience. Jeez, a guy tries to do something nice…" I let that drift off as I stuck my head in the fridge, getting both hands steady on the stack of boxes. I'd listened to enough stories to earn me a sampling, just as Liz bossed. "Here," I grunted as I handed them to her over the door of the fridge.

"I made dinner," she griped instantly, part of a frown pulling down her lips.

"It's dessert," I corrected with just as much grit as I could manage.

Her eyebrows jumped. Regardless of the cold exhaust hitting my center, I couldn't stop the fiery warmth that settled as her smile erupted. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

A contented hum buzzed up from her chest as she started to peek into the top box.

"Ah ah ah-" I snapped the lid closed, brushing her fingers away in the process. "No dessert until after dinner." I closed the fridge as her giggles started to fill the kitchen. As we walked over to her apartment, she kept passing that blazing grin at me from over her shoulder. Each stolen glance made my heart beat out of time since I was losing the battle. I guess I had been kidding myself all along to think I had power over this- that I could convince myself of anything other than the truth: this was more than just some stupid crush.

The fucking question was still the same though: was this really what she needed?

Notes:

Ugh, writing sad-boy Soul gets me every time. I look forward to generating more of this.

I also hope you all appreciate the return of some of my OCs 😍 I really think Viv deserves life so I swear I'm going to give it to her in this fic!

Chapter 5: Behind Glass

Notes:

Transitioning to Maka's POV and I'm PUMPED!

Chapter Text

I had gotten used to watching him chew--is that weird? It was just another one of those things that he did with that absorbed interest, as if he was thinking through each iota of movement while it was happening or even before it happened. Because behind the general malaise, that was Soul: a thinker. Albeit, sometimes a little too much. Maybe I was being full of myself, but I had started to hope that maybe--just maybe--I'd been pulling him out of that. Giving him the opportunity to do what he wanted, say what he thought without restraint.

Because we'd become friends.

Good friends as I told Shelley.

More than casual acquaintances as I told Marie.

Someone I wanted to see every day, talk to about everything and nothing.

Friends, right?

Because there was no way, no possible way that it could be any different than that between the two of us. If I tried to compare him to Brian I'd utterly fail. Brian and I were… perfect. But Soul and I, well, all we seem to do is cry, cling to each other, try to keep each other afloat because while I know I'm struggling--what an understatement--Soul's drowning. I thought I had heard it in his music when we first met but that night that he actually let me in to see his tears, to hold him for what only felt like a second, I knew for sure. He was carrying deep scars.

Maybe it was deflection. I was avoiding the obvious: I was pregnant with another man's child. You don't go dating or falling in love like that. You can't. It's against some secret societal rulebook, isn't it? Plus, dating me meant signing up for fatherhood, and what normal, twenty-something guy wants to jump headfirst into that? Except--and Death did I really try to keep my mind from perseverating on this night after night--he'd made it clear that to him it wasn't intertwined. I was still me which was something I rarely acknowledged anymore. I'd made up my mind that I was a packaged deal, that the Maka from any number of months or years ago was entirely gone. I'd eventually be a mother. That's all.

But that's not what it felt like when I was with him, when he was talking or listening. When he was holding me or comforting. In his arms I felt like me again, but at the same time I wasn't forgetting what was there. Honestly, I don't know exactly how to describe it and I've been writing and rewriting it a million times in an attempt to sprout the right metaphor. In the end, I'm lost. He's being the best friend I could ever ask for and it's just… it's not right to ask for more.


Papa rarely smoked. It was one of those throwbacks to his tumultuous adolescence with Stein, but it reared its ugly head every time his stress got close to exploding. He used to sneak one at least every night during the divorce and sometimes, after coming home late from the bar, there wouldn't be just beer on his breath. It was simply a fact of life- one that I knew was going to resurface as soon as I opened the apartment door. Yes, of course, I told him over the phone beforehand. What kind of daughter would I be to just open the door four months pregnant and expect his head not to explode? Not that the forewarning made that much difference.

"Maka…" His hands wavered in front of him and when I didn't make an attempt to move he leaned in for the hug. This weak and withering sigh rumbled up from his chest as soon as our bodies met, as soon as that weird beer belly of a baby settled between us.

"Hi, Papa." It was the tiniest greeting I could offer since everything else was strangled by the weight of it all. His thoughts, my own, the world. Each wave threatened to pull me under until I heard the piano.

Honestly, it was as if the balcony door never closed, a tie that I couldn't sever. Each note drifted in from the opening, filling my apartment with the melody. I let Papa hold me as I picked apart the music and the man behind it. He should be at work. It's prime bartending time but somehow he's home. Waiting for Papa I didn't realize I never got a goodbye--which was sometimes becoming his habit--or heard him leave. I know I told him last night that I'd be facing the big one, but I didn't-

"Maka, honey…" Papa gave me another squeeze before releasing me so his hands could come tenderly to my shoulders. "I-I'm so glad you called. I wish-"

I nodded because no matter what he wished it didn't make a difference; I already had a pile of wishes that were turning to dust, so adding his wouldn't change the weight. As soon as I stepped back he slipped the rest of the way in, taking the short steps to my sad excuse for a living room. "Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?" If you need a beer you'll have to go steal it from Soul. The joke sat bitterly on my tongue.

"No, honey, I just…" He heaved a sigh as his eyes darted around the room. Gathering thoughts always seemed to take Papa some time when he actually tried to do it, so I waited patiently."Where's Brian in all of this?" He motioned around the room like the man in question should be there.

Maybe--alright, no, definitely--I was trying to sink into the music, let it drown out the question. After letting the reality out for Soul, it was as if Brian didn't matter. The whole process that I'd labeled as a mistake was suddenly not- just at his say so. "I'm trying not to think about Brian right now." I moved past Papa and eased into the lone armchair, staring at the loveseat as I waited for him to take his place. Instead, he paced.

"Well, he sure as hell should be thinking about you!" You could set your watch by Papa's hysterics. Ten minutes into any problem and he was ready with an emotional diatribe. "You're pregnant with his kid! And it's not like he's some struggling, starving artist. Mr. Six-figures can afford to take care of both of you so I don't see why he's running scared at the first sight of responsibility."

"Papa-"

"What, does he think this is going to get in the way of him being partner? I get it, lawyers aren't exactly always the moral type--some irony there--but I bet when I run down to his office and tell his boss that he's left you high and dry there'll be no chance-"

"Brian wanted to get married." I lobbed that with as little emotion as I could manage.

It still hit Papa like a fastball to the gut. He stood, blinking at me while he processed the idea. "And you said…?"

"No." I added a firm shake of my head as if that mattered.

He went back to pacing but it only lasted a few trips. His third revolution left him to started towards my open bedroom door, disappearing.

"Papa?"

"I'm going out on the balcony for a few minutes."

"Papa!" Soul's out there! I was up on my feet but all of my rushing was for nothing. The door slammed closed, muffling the music. OK, Maka, stop. It's not a big deal if he meets Soul- it's not as if dad-meets-boyfriend shenanigans are going to ensue because he's just… Soul's just a friend. Papa's not psycho. He's not going to interrogate every man within a 15-mile radius. Now only mildly panicked, I slowed my steps towards the door.

A thin line of smoke wafted on the other side of the glass as Papa's back obscured the view of anything else. He exhaled a cloud in the direction of Soul's balcony and while I saw his lips move the exact words were still hushed.

Soul's low baritone rumbled back, the faint hint of a laugh at the end.

I tried to press against the wall, mostly hiding with my ear as close to the glass as I could manage.

"Coulda fooled me," Papa chuckled.

"Trust me, it ain't all that great to listen to."

Soul- I wanted to admonish -why can't you let yourself get at least one compliment?

"It's nice though. Can't say Maka'll appreciate it. She's always had a pretty terrible taste in music."

"Huh-" Soul broke into a chuckle "-you know her pretty well?"

Papa turned his head enough for me to see the roll of his eyes. "I'm her father."

"Ah."

Silence drifted between them like smoke, only filled with a few more errant notes.

"Hey…" Papa paused to muse through a toxic exhale. "You seen a guy coming by here? Tall, black hair, really blue eyes?"

"Uh…" Soul let the sound buzz as long as he could. "Can't say I'm watching much comings and goings. Plus, I sorta work a lot--and weird hours--so I can't say I've seen anyone come by."

Papa heaved a sigh before bringing the cigarette back to his lips to tease the filter. Something muttered over the end but it was too faint to catch, tossed over the skyline rather than his shoulder.

The notes stopped. "That the father?"

"Huh?" Papa quickly swiveled his attention.

"That guy you're describing- that the father?" There was a decided pause for Soul to clear his throat. "She's pregnant- so the blue-eyed guy's the father?"

"Thought you were just the neighbor."

"I talk to her," he offered succinctly.

Papa was studying him, eyebrows knit as he tried to translate something on Soul's face. I wished that I was seeing the same thing, maybe with more ability to decipher the usual enigma. In Papa's contemplation came the music again, but this time it was the same practiced notes of my song--though I'd only call it that in my head.

I moved away from my hiding spot back to the living room. He knows what Brian looks like. It was my turn to pace even though I had no rational explanation for the inkling. I watched my feet shuffle against the carpet. It doesn't matter. They'll never meet- or at least not if I can help it. My trance broke at the slide of the door, my eyes turning expectantly towards the bedroom. Even though I was waiting for Papa I couldn't banish the last thought: Why does it matter if Soul and Brian meet?

"Honey," Papa called, his voice now suffused with a softness that a corner of my heart missed. As he turned the corner, a smile beamed on his cheeks. "Let me take you to dinner, OK?"

"Oh…" I nibbled into my lip for a moment before shrugging. "OK, but… I…"

"We're celebrating," he charged as he took another step into the room and reached for me. "I'm gonna be a grandpa after all!" In all my shock it was easy for him to gather me up, pulling me into his arms again to settle into that leftover smell of smoke lingering in his cologne. "And you're gonna be the best goddamn mother."

My vision clouded before I pressed my face against his shirt. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

In the background, Soul had started my song all over again.


I returned stuffed and carrying my leftovers and Papa's. I tossed them on the kitchen counter before following the tunes that led me to Soul. It was always the same when I slid open the door, his head instantly turning and a sly grin starting on his lips. Tonight wasn't any different. "Hey."

I stepped out so I could lean over the ledge between our two balconies. For a fleeting second, I thought about running my fingertips over his hair. "Sorry about my dad today."

"Not a big deal." He shrugged. "You OK?"

"Fine." There was still a skeptical wrinkle to his eyebrow so I added a giggle that usually ironed those right off his face. "Actually, really full! And I brought home leftovers. Do you want some?"

He averted his attention from me, his fingers suddenly of endless interest. He hit one note before murmuring, "It's late, ain't it?"

I rolled my eyes regardless of whether he'd have the pleasure to see it or not. "It's not any later than if you were coming home from work. Actually- why aren't you at work?"

Something like a cough caught in his throat before he slid through half a melody. "Called in sick today."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Sick?" Without a second thought, I reached my hand down and slid under his bangs to caress his forehead. "You don't have a fever."

He was frozen and silent.

"Hey, if you don't feel well-"

"Ain't it." He caught me by the wrist just enough to pull my hand away. The tug wasn't a surprise--he wasn't always entirely natural with touching--but the way he paused to stare at my hand, to study my fingers as if running over his skin had marred them made my heart lurch. "You-you feeling OK enough for me to come over?" His eyes came to my face and the same hesitation lined them.

Do you think looking at you hurts me? I nodded as I wriggled my wrist out of his hold. "I'm fine. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, but… thank you for worrying about me." I got free enough to let my fingers drift over his.

He turned his head towards the darkness. "Fine. I'll come over."

"Glad I could convince you," I grumbled as I turned back into the apartment. That look on his face was the worst and I honestly couldn't decipher it. Again, touching wasn't exactly alien to him but… restricted. He did reach for me at times, but it was when we hit some desperate point. When I touched him--which for me was automatic like blinking--it always came with that freeze and process. Well, it's weird isn't it? A pregnant woman hanging on him? The shame of that selfish idea fueled my nervous walk to the door, opening it just as I heard his click shut.

I left it just slightly ajar as I moved towards the kitchen. As I popped open the styrofoam containers, ready to introduce his options for the night, I heard the door click but no footsteps. It was impossible for him to be lost in the entryway so I peeked my head in, seeing him standing still and staring at the wall. My eyes followed his gaze and my heart skipped a beat.

"You made this?" Maybe it was supposed to be teasing but his eyes stayed forward, entirely immersed in the picture box I'd hung on the wall.

"Yup," I tried to reply as casually as possible but I couldn't help hearing the yelp at the end. I took a step closer, eyeing the dried blossoms trapped behind glass.

"Camellias," he murmured.

"Well, they were so beautiful it seemed like a waste to just…" Give them to me in the first place, Soul. I tried not to sigh, fiddling my lips around the breath instead. I watched the slow crawl of his eyes that moved from corner to corner and back again.

"The ones I gave you." That was barely above the sound of his breath and quickly lost as the next sentence boomed in comparison. "I like the composition. Don't have too much negative space but still doesn't seem busy."

I tried out a dismissive wave of my hand, hoping it would gather his attention but he was still solely focused. "Oh, it's just a hobby-"

"Like my piano playing," he muttered with half a smirk.

"If you're trying to insinuate that I don't know how to take a compliment-"

"If the shoe fits."

I scoffed, mostly because while teasing was nothing new from Soul--it's his favorite pastime--there was a momentary glow to his eyes as they finally broke from the flowers and fell to me that left me otherwise speechless.

"If I…" he started and the shine stuttered just as much as his words. "If I got you more flowers, would you…?" He motioned towards the frame, fingers weakly just flicking in its directions.

It was one of those moments where I was entirely bare as if somewhere along the way I'd forgotten to get dressed and let him in. I wanted to move protectively in front of the frame because he was seeing too much. You don't even realize how cruel you're being, do you? Getting me more flowers, Soul, that's what- friends don't do that. That would be the kind of tease I can't take. "If you need one for a gift or something, I could…"

A swallow rattled down his throat before he nodded slowly. "Ah, maybe. I-I wasn't exactly…" He heaved a sigh before taking one more look at the frame, staring at it as if it owed him an explanation. "Don't worry about it. This is- this is just nice, that's all I'm saying. So take the compliment."

"Alright."

He dropped his gaze back to me with a smile. "So, we eating or what?"

"You're eating," I corrected. "And for someone whose diet used to be just beer…"

The rest of the night devolved into eating and joking, neither of us really getting our fill. Something about that moment in the entryway had left us stuck there and no matter how long I tossed and turned in the night after he left I couldn't decipher it. Especially not the way he paused before he walked out, one last look and a smile saturated in sadness reflecting in the glass of the picture box.

Chapter 6: Welcome Home

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Soul had gotten to the point where he was comfortable enough to actually spread on the loveseat. It was honestly a sight to see, him still in his hotel clothes with his bow-tie entirely askew as he lolled his head against the armrest. There was no chance of him catching me stealing glances since his eyes had drifted closed five minutes ago, so I let my eyes linger over him rather than the novel in my lap. "Don't you usually shower?"

"What? I stink or something?" he muttered but his lips still cracked into a smirk.

I snorted a laugh before closing my book. "Do you want to shower? I mean, I think dinner can sit for a little while…"

"No," he groaned. "I want to eat. I'm dying, Maka. Dying." With all the wilting damsel he could muster, Soul threw his arm over his eyes, barely covering that smile. "So are you done with that page or not?"

"I closed my book, didn't I?" I chirped right back.

A cross between a satisfied hum and a sigh broke his grin before he threw his spine up straight from the couch. He was on his feet just as I deposited my novel on the side table. "C'mon, or do I have to carry you?" There was a bit of a rough grumble to it but his hand was out for me, easing me to my feet as soon as I took it.

"I'm not that big," I muttered.

"Ah-" he cleared his throat "-how far along are you anyway?"

Every last ounce of me wanted to ignore the question, pretend like it had been lost somewhere in the croak from his chest. Even worse, I wanted to snatch my hand away to break the connection but I found myself clutching his fingers instead. "I'm at six months."

"Oh."

The juxtaposition of the moment was jarring, bringing unwanted moisture to my eyes. He's holding my hand. He came here first--didn't even go home--because it's our night. That's right: Wednesdays are our night now, even if all the other nights feel like mine too because he still plays. But every Wednesday he comes here. We eat. We talk. We-

"Can-" his thumb rolled over my knuckles as we breached the doorway to the kitchen. "Probably shouldn't ask, but- boy or girl?"

I didn't even need a mirror to know my eyebrows had exploded in surprise since the fear flashed across his.

Soul stole his hand from me to wave them in innocence before sending one to tug at his hair as he smoothed it back. "Sorry- I-"

"N-no," I squeaked. "It's OK, I-I just…" I couldn't stop the wash of salt over my cheeks. "I technically haven't told anyone yet."

"Maka…" His hand's trajectory wavered, coming near my cheek but falling to hit my shoulder instead. "I really am- I never shoulda asked," he sighed.

My hand trembled as I ran it over my cheeks, clearing what I could of the tears that wouldn't stop coming. "It's a boy."

He squeezed my shoulder.

I would say the floodgates had broken, but there really were no more gates between Soul and me, or at least that's what I wanted to tell myself. A half-muted sob mewled from my throat before I whispered, "I-I think I want to name him Jack."

"That's a good name," he murmured back immediately. With the same swiftness, his hand pulled me closer, allowing the space for his arm to wrap around my shoulders and press me to his chest.

Every time he touched me now it was like giving an alcoholic a drink- you shouldn't, it's bad for them, but they ache for it. I was no different.

"Easy to spell," he continued with a weak laugh. "Better than Solomon."

"I feel like you'd say anything is better than Solomon." That broke my sob, letting me exhale a breath with at least the inkling of a smile on my face. I had soaked his dress shirt enough, but when I tried to pull away, he resisted for a moment.

"I really am sorry, Maka." He tossed a sigh near my ear, his voice settling low. "Please, just-"

The apology came as the perfect excuse to sink into him and allow my fingers just a bit more purchase. "It's alright to ask." I couldn't bring myself to let go or do anything other than nestle my face into his shirt enough that my voice was garbled. "I need to say it out loud, and it's easier to say it to you than anyone else."

"Good." His hands tapped at my shoulders, that message of nervousness now pulling us apart. When I finally looked him in the face, he was trying to smirk but it was strained, lopsided.

A little bit of fear crinkled my heart. He doesn't want that kind of responsibility, Maka.

"I don't want you to think that-" The buzz in his pocket cut him off, the rest of the words stuttering off with a hard breath.

"Answer it," I murmured as I pulled another step back, bringing my hands up to clear my face. "It's probably important."

His eyebrows furrowed, mouth gaping for one extra second. With a frustrated huff, he reached into his pocket and ripped out his phone. As Soul angled the screen, his eyes went wide and he wasted no time in pressing it against his ear. "Hey."

His lip worked as he listened to the tinny voice on the other end.

"Ah, no, technically I'm not. I'm next door-"

He barely hit the r very hard before a knock at the door drowned it out.

I'd never seen him turn so fast, ditching his phone on the counter before rushing into the entryway. He was unlocking the door before I could even utter a sentence, throwing it open to reveal a woman, her phone in her hand and a glorious smile on her face.

My stomach dropped, baby included.

She was one of those ethereal visions- the heroine from your favorite Gothic novel who almost always died some eerie death, preserving her at the pinnacle of beauty. Her black locks swam over her shoulders with the buoyancy of a hair commercial, and her eyes, while green like mine, were just slightly darker, more a pine than a jade. As if the look of her wasn't enough, her voice was lovelier, a supple contralto that gave his name all the attention it deserved: "Soul!"

"Y-you're home." Soul's voice shook just as much as his arms as he reached for her in such a natural, practiced motion that I felt my heart break. "You're really home." It was his turn for the words to break, for the tears to come to him.

I was intruding but there was nothing I could do to urge my legs to move, only my arms circling around my waist, around that ostentatious baby bump as if I could hold myself together. He has someone, see? Just passing the time with you. Lonely for now, but not alone, especially not now that she's here. You saw the way he grabbed her- no hesitation. He loves her, it's obvious. I swallowed each sentence, letting the weight crush my chest. To my surprise, not a speck of tears threatened, instead just a cold ache as my jaw started to clench.

Soul tried to crush the next sob with a clear of his throat, but as he pulled away from her, her hands came to his face to gingerly clear his tears. "I'm so sorry, Soul. So, so sorry."

"Nah-" he let out a short gulp of a laugh "-ain't your fault. I just…" He stole away her hands but instead of focusing some sweetness on her, his eyes turned to me. "Ah, Maka, this is Viv, my sister-in-law. Viv, this is Maka."

My skin pinked from shame and my brain fizzled with the emotional whiplash. Sister-in-law. "Hello," I managed to squeak.

"Nice to meet you." As expected, Viv's eyes dropped but instantly slid back to my face. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, it's just…" She angled her head back towards Soul, eyes looking up at him pleadingly. "You're alright?"

"Fine," he murmured as he waved off her worry. Soul put a step between them before flashing her a smirk. "Be better once I get Wes's worrying out of the way. Where is he?"

Viv's shoulders deflated with a sigh. "Coming. Just parking the car. Reggie didn't exactly make it. He tried to stay up, but you know how he is- any car ride becomes a nap."

He let out a breathy laugh. "S'alright. Just as long as I can see him." That tremble broke through his words again, forcing Soul to lift his hand to his face.

"Oh, darling," Viv whispered mournfully as she reached for him.

"Nah," he muttered and waved a hand at her.

My heart lurched along with my feet, bringing me next to him. I expected the same dismissal--actually, I needed the same dismissal. I needed him to push me away, to solidify whatever envy was still murmuring in the background of my mind.

Instead, he dropped his hand to level teary eyes at me. "Sorry."

"Don't be," I murmured as softly as I could. "It's fine. I'll just- maybe tomorrow-"

"Actually-" he cut me off with a furrowed brow "-would you wanna meet 'em? I get it if you wanna say no--you're tired I bet and probably hungry--but I-I'd like it if you did."

My eyes darted to the doorway, finding Viv already out of view. I wonder if she thinks she's interrupting something when it's me who's the stranger. "That's your family, Soul." My voice strained, leaving it airy and pathetic.

"Sure-" his tone shrunk to almost nothing "-but it's our night, ain't it? Not exactly fair to ditch you."

I could obviously hear what he was saying but processing it was something else entirely. Our night. That's what he said, but- Stubbornness was still biting into my heart.

"Reggie's pretty cute, plus you and Viv sorta have something in common." It was that flower-smile of his again, the melancholy twist to the corner even though his words were lyrical in their sweetness.

"We have something in common?" No, Maka, no! Meeting his family- that's too much. That's another little step forward in that fantasy of yours and you can't do it! All you'll be is disappointed.

"Hey, Viv," he called over his shoulder.

Onyx hair bobbed at the edge of the door. "I'm not listening!" she chimed.

Soul snorted a laugh. "Doubt that," he muttered to me before entirely turning his attention towards the door. "Do me a favor and give a Reggie introduction."

That beautifully delicate face appeared in the doorway again, brow wrinkling but lips threatening some amusement. "Oh, no- not that Southern Belle impression his father taught him."

"Just the one," he chuckled.

She pursed her lips and a flash of girlish nervousness overtook her as she wrapped her arms around herself to hold her elbows. "I doubt Maka wants to-"

"Please."

With a few more huffs, she slipped into a Gone with the Wind accent, "Vivienne Desjardins Evans, a pleasure, I'm sure."

Soul barely held in the guffaw but lost the battle as I sprang to attention.

"Wait- Vivienne Desjardins? The Vivienne Desjardins?"

"Soul, you better not have put her up to this," Viv muttered as her shoulders tensed.

"No!" I interjected for him, and before I knew it, I was in a whirlwind back to the side table so I could pick up the book underneath the one I had just been reading. It was dogeared and the spine was cracked in a few places but that was simply because it followed me most places, always the back-up to whatever I was currently reading. I turned back to them, almost floored by the glowing smile on Soul's face.

Soul's cheeks were about to crack with the weight of it. "Get ready for the bookworm, Viv."

"Hey," I complained breathlessly. "It's the best collection of contemporary poems! Honestly, I don't even know how many times I've read it! Drowning the Nightingale is just-!"

"Trust me, it takes a lot to get her speechless," he tossed effortlessly at her.

Viv's cheeks had started to flush as she brought a hand up to at least cover part of her nerves. "Oh, Maka, that's so sweet, but… really- it's- well, thank you." She settled on the words with a sigh. "Mostly it's stuffy old men in overcoats telling me this sort of thing."

"C'mon-" he waved Viv into the apartment. "Let her compliment you for a little while, Viv. At least long enough for me to get Wes and Reggie."

Technically, I could go on for hours, and the fact that Viv seemed entirely shocked only fed the urge. But, again, this was his family and even if I had every collection she'd ever been published in didn't mean I owned any of her time, especially not at Soul's expense. Except Vivienne Desjardins was walking into my apartment with at least the confidence of an acquaintance, passing Soul with a soft tap to his chest before moving my way. "I-I actually have my journal with me right now…"

Her journal! blared in my mind. Her unpublished work?

"If you'd like to peruse…" She was digging through her bag, bringing out a small notebook with a deep blue velveteen cover. "I swear, it's nothing all that inspired, just what I was toying with while we were away."

I could barely peel my eyes off the treasure she'd placed in my hands, but I hazarded a look at Soul. Playful accusation-"you knew!"-should have come to my lips but any last bit of sadness was gone from his smile again as he held my gaze.

For that infinitesimal moment, I allowed the fantasy to slip in-- there wasn't a second of shame to showing me off, to introducing me to the family that he so obviously adored, and to displaying that I held some kind of space in his heart.

As he turned away, I chewed bitterly on reality-- meeting them was all about politeness, a chance encounter. Now that he was happy, which had been so utterly obvious by his face alone, what would he actually need me for? There wasn't a reason.

"Vivienne, are you sure?" I weighed the book in my hands as I tried to erase the thoughts. Focus, this is probably the only dream-come-true you'll get.

"Oh, absolutely! And call me Viv, please." With one last bit of coaxing, she left the journal in my hands. She glanced around me into the living room towards the kitchen. "Were you two in the middle of dinner?"

"Well, yes…" I followed her line of sight towards the pots left to simmer on the stove. "It's alright though, I-"

"Oh, no, no, no." Those gentle hands were now squarely focused on me, taking me by the shoulders and gently leading me towards the loveseat. "Let me get you a plate. You can start reading and hopefully the boys will be up in a few moments." I was helplessly deposited before I could even gather an argument. For all her meekness, nothing seemed to dull the maternal drive as Viv zoomed off to clatter around the kitchen.

Stop, please… That delightful daydream only seemed to be bolstered with each minute that passed and I could only beg it to end. Any more and I was sure that the thin porcelain that my heart had become since the start of this would crack and splinter.

Voices started to buzz from the hallway and I turned my head over my shoulder to the slightly ajar door. It swung open, revealing a man who was definitely a genetic copy of Soul-- or really, Soul was a genetic copy of him since the age difference was obvious. His laugh lines, obvious by the joy on his face, were just a slight bit heavier, along with a smattering of five o'clock shadow along his jaw. "I'm terribly sorry to barge in," the man cooed as he moved across the floor to quickly offer his hand to me. "But you have to clarify something for me, Maka, darling-- my brother was having dinner with you?"

"Wes, lay off," Soul hissed.

I craned my neck just enough to catch Soul in the doorway, a boy around Shelley's age nestled sleeping against him. "It's late, but he just got off of work…" I was losing traction on my thoughts as I watched Soul clearing the bangs from that adorable sleeping face. I did let my hand slip into Wes's, finding that he was quick to enclose it with a soft pat.

Soul tucked his head closer, ghosting a kiss over the boy's cheek before tapping the door shut with his foot. "We have dinner every Wednesday," Soul spat at his brother.

"Do you?" Overly expressive eyebrows fluttered on Wes's forehead towards Soul.

"Wesley Evans-" the solid threat rang from the kitchen and both men straightened. The next second brought Viv's shining smile rather than any lingering admonishment. She was carrying two plates piled high. "Soul, give Reggie back to his father so you can eat properly."

"S'alright…" With growing humor I saw him drop his eyes, unable to look at Viv as he finished his refusal: "I'll eat later."

Viv's lips puckered only slightly before she turned a sweet gaze to her husband. "Wesley."

In perfect time, both men sighed in defeat, exchanging the child under Viv's watchful smile. She then leaned down, giving me my heaping serving before turning towards Soul and unburdening herself of his. "Both of you, sit, eat." It wasn't enough to give the order, but Viv was gently prodding Soul, bringing him to sit next to me on the sofa. As soon as we both settled, Viv stole the journal from between my fingers, nodding once more at the food at hand before disappearing into the kitchen again.

Wes hefted the little boy to fix him in his arms before moving to the armchair and easing down. His eyes were intently on Soul through a few chews before setting his sights on me. "Maka, I'm so happy to see you're making him eat. Before we left, I swear he was still half skin and bones and at least now-"

"Wes," Soul grumbled out his name in very well-practiced annoyance.

"You did say beer and bed," I corrected as a little of the dazzle was fading away. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him pink, the hint of a frown surrounding his fork after popping in another mouthful.

Viv reappeared before starting towards the far wall and lighting her fingers over the spines on my bookcase. "Maka, you read quite a lot, don't you?"

I took a moment to chew, trying to dutifully eat in order to avoid any scolding of my own. "Well, I would say it's just an occupational hazard. I do editing for a small publishing company."

"And you enjoy it?" She was still sifting through titles on the shelf, leaving her attention on my overzealous purchasing.

"I do." I nursed a soft smile, letting my eyes fall to my hand and the delicate gold band on my finger. "It's actually where my mama worked years ago. Maybe they spoil me a little because of it. I get to work from home right now and…" I left my fork on my plate, using my free hand to stroke the swell of my stomach.

"She's an artist too-" Soul filled in the trail I'd left behind. "In the entryway, the flowers-"

"Soul," I chided stubbornly, unable to stop my cheeks from puffing in embarrassment.

"Oh, you mean that picture box?" Viv was already on the move regardless of my complaint.

"Quite the accomplished neighbor," Wes sang. His eyes were dangerously mirthful as they met mine. "And how did you get to know my brother?"

Soul was in the middle of clearing his throat--probably readying some excuse--when I jumped in. "His piano playing. I overheard him on the balcony and we started talking." I was prepared for his embarrassment, just a small corner of payback for the artist comment, but the hope for it all swept away with Wes's face.

His eyebrows jutted upwards as his smile faltered. "You're playing again? Really?"

I snuck a look at Soul, finding his face frozen as he stared at his brother. His lips barely seemed to move as he whispered, "Sorta."

But you play all the time! And you play at work! I barely kept my forehead from wrinkling.

A bewildered huff left Wes's lips before he brought back the life of his smile. "That's… that's really wonderful, Soul."

"Papa, you're too loud-" a little voice squeaked. The raven hair, a perfect replica of Viv's, shifted as red eyes sleepily blinked open.

Soul was quick to toss his plate on the coffee table and leaned forward, hands at the ready. "Hey, Reggie."

The little boy jumped, his head swiveling so swiftly I was sure I'd get second-hand vertigo. "Uncle!" It was a good thing Soul was prepared since Reggie darted out of his father's lap and into his uncle's waiting hands. "When did you get here?"

Soul gathered Reggie into his arms, that little sable mess of hair resting easily on his chest as if that were a memorized spot. "When did get here?" He chuckled. "You're the one visiting, kiddo. Hey, can I introduce you?"

I barely caught Reggie's whisper in return, "To the lady?"

Soul hummed out a soft affirmative.

"Do I have to hug her?"

He snorted before murmuring with a sweet but teasing lilt, "Nah. 'Hello' s'all." Soul jiggled his legs, giving Reggie just enough of a jostle to get the boy to sit up.

Red eyes settled on my face, little lips puckering thoughtfully in examination before every last muscle relaxed. "I'm Reginald Desjardins Evans. May I know your name?"

Soul leaned into the arm of the sofa as he tried to hide his snickers in the crease of his elbow.

"Why do you always laugh?" Reggie shot a glare at his uncle as small fingers attempted to grab Soul's chin to retrieve his veiled smirk.

"Just 'cause it's you," Soul murmured as he slid out of his hiding just enough to be seen by both of us. "So, you gonna introduce yourself?"

I inhaled slowly, waiting for Reggie's attention before putting on the best show of my own. "I'm Maka Suzume Albarn, and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

With a grating snort, Soul fell into uncontrollable chuckles.

"Why do you think that's so funny, Soul Evans?" I muttered as I left my plate next to his on the coffee table. I inched closer to get within range and as soon as I could reach, I was tugging at his earlobe, pulling him once again out of his hiding spot.

"Ow, ow, ow!" His grimace bordered on histrionic as he tried to pull my hand away by the wrist.

"Reginald, is your uncle always this mean?" I raised inquisitive eyebrows as the boy giggled in reply.

Reggie slid out of his lap, cramped in what little space existed between Soul and me. "He's nice!"

"At least someone vouches for me," Soul muttered.

I let go of his lobe, but his hand only slid slightly along my wrist, his thumb splitting the space in my palm. Is he going to hold my hand? A blush started but I tried to drown it under the surface of my shame.

"Miss Maka, are you having a baby?" Little fingers were hovering near the swell of my stomach, making Soul move his hold from me to them. He sidelined the touch, dipping his head as if ready to murmur some admonishment.

"I am," I managed through a tight smile to cut off Soul's scolding.

Soul glanced at me in return, eyes begging a question but not voicing it.

"Uncle-" he upturned inquisitive eyes back to the man in question "-are you-"

"Reggie," Wes started, cutting the little boy's tongue.

"It's my baby." There was a definite ache to that correction, but for a sweet moment, some of it dulled at the wonder on his face.

"Just your baby?" He latched on to the information, erupting in wonder at the idea. "Mama? Mama!" Before Soul could wrangle him, Reggie was sliding off the couch, running around the side so he could meet his mother as she wandered back from the entryway.

"What is it, darling?" She reached a soothing hand down to smooth his hair.

Reggie was dancing at her feet, squirming to hold every inch of her legs as he looked up at her. "Miss Maka's having a baby- and it's only hers! Could you do that? Could you have another baby?"

Viv's eyebrows climbed her forehead as a melodic laugh left her. "Ah, darling, I prefer having babies with your father, but…" For a moment, those deeper green eyes met mine as the confusion wiped from her face. "But any woman who can have one on their own is amazing."

A smile should have come but all I could feel was the heat of tears and that sting at the back of my throat. Am I? Is that really what this is? Or am I-

The idea caught and ignited with his touch. The way Soul's fingers slid into mine incinerated it. It wasn't just that, but the fire in his eyes when I moved unsteady eyes from Viv to him that eviscerated every last woeful denial of my strength in this. Before I couldn't translate what his look was saying but this was loud and clear: "It's not a mistake."

I pulled in a weak breath but before I could warble some reply, Soul was filling the space with his soft baritone. "It's gettin' late and unlike the rest of us, Maka actually has a regular schedule." He sent a meaningful glare at his brother who instantly jumped to his feet.

"Maka, thank you for letting us intrude." He was quick to come to my side and reach for another one of those antiquated pats of my hand. "Thank you for hosting us and thank you for looking after-"

Soul cleared his throat.

"What-" Wes started but a second clear of a throat from across the room had him rolling his eyes. "Alright, good night, Maka, and we hope to see you again soon."

"Seconded," Viv called cheerfully over my shoulder. "Reggie-"

"Goodnight, Miss Maka!" he shouted joyously as he popped his head over the back of the sofa to show off a brilliant smile. "And Uncle, tomorrow is Thursday, right?"

"Technically," he chuckled. "Though I think we're sorta into Thursday just about now."

Reggie's little brow wrinkled in worry.

Soul messed the boy's hair with a soft sigh. "Alright, Reggie, yeah, Thursday."

"Then it's our day, isn't it?" His voice leaped in excitement.

"Reggie, your uncle's probably tired," Wes started but Soul was already shaking his head to derail his brother.

I was seeing something entirely new in his face, as if muscles that had long been held tight were finally shrugging apart, letting a small shine of unencumbered joy eke through some of his features. "Yeah, I'll come pick you up."

"Soul, you don't have to," Viv murmured as her eyes seemed to glance over me first before returning to him.

"I-" it started as a murmur but his voice suddenly came alive along with a squeeze to my hand "-I want to."

Viv nodded slowly before turning bright eyes towards her husband. "Let's go. If Reggie's spending the afternoon with his uncle he'll need his rest."

Soul stood up, leaving me on the couch as he moved towards his brother. There was no embrace, more a short clasp of hands like an informal shake and neither of them seemed fluid in the movement. It's like they're new to one another. Whatever they are is- stop! I tried to scold myself. You're not analyzing him, right? You're not here to spy. Regardless of my thoughts my eyes followed him towards Viv and watched him embrace her again, that same twinge of envy striking all the way to my toes.

Once he let go, Soul herded them to the door, talking in low whispers as they moved. The door clapped shut and an elongated, trembling sigh slumped his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he grumbled to the door.

"For what?" I tried to comfortably maneuver to lean against the back of the couch but my stomach was definitely starting to get in the way. Instead, I started for my feet, daring a few steps towards him and the entryway. My momentum fizzled as he turned to me, the brilliant smile that had infected his face while his family was here fading to somber.

"I threw that on you." A derisive laugh was quickly snuffed by his teeth.

"I think I caught it well enough." I tried out his metaphor but it fell flat, leaving him to roll his lip through his teeth. As soon as he gaped, probably ready to serve another apology, I started again: "I liked them."

He was instantly disarmed, eyebrows leaping up and hands instantly trying to find the right place to settle.

"And technically, you met my dad, didn't you?" I offered a tight smile at the title but as soon as I took another step it drifted back into a grin half in a dream. He was meeting me halfway, but those searching hands dove into his pocket last minute. "So we're even. Families met. We both survived. But I can't believe you didn't tell me your sister-in-law was the Vivienne-"

"You wouldn't've believed me," he snickered as he tilted back on his heels. Some of the pleasure of our usual banter was coming back to his face and I found a knot I didn't even realize was there unwinding in my chest. "Seriously, you carry that book around with you everywhere. You woulda said I was pulling your leg. And call her Viv. She hates her full name."

Because I'm seeing her again? I wanted so desperately to ask the question but all I could offer was silence in reply. I worried my fingers into the hem of my shirt, playing with an errant string as I watched him pull in another breath and try to arrange some semblance of his own thoughts.

It didn't work, his lips buttoning shut again as his eyes roamed towards the floor.

"Well, I guess, good night…" I turned my attention back towards the kitchen, glancing at the half-eaten plates still on the coffee table. "If you want some leftovers-"

"Nah, I ate enough. Better than one beer, right?" He offered a weak shrug as he already started turning away, giving me just a view of his profile. "So, just g'night then." As he moved, I saw his eyes catch the picture box again, a ghost of that same smile crossing his lips before he hung his head.

Why does that look like defeat? Another question that so desperately needed an answer, but first needed the damn stubborn courage to ask it. Somewhere, deep down, I knew that existed in me, I knew once it had been there but had withered like a flower without sunshine. "Soul, I-"

He paused, eyes shooting back to me so quickly that his neck must have cracked from the whiplash.

"I mean it, I liked them and I-" Courage, Maka, seriously, courage "-I liked the way you were with them."

Soul blinked before shaking his head softly. "Don't know what you mean."

"Happy-" The word could only come from my mouth as a murmur, the last of my bravery spent on the rest I managed to arrange after: "You were happy with them, and seeing you happy… you deserve that."

A slow swallow bobbed in his throat before he nodded. "Thanks," he croaked.

"Good night."

"'Night." Soul took slow, calculated steps to the door before opening it and slipping out into the hallway.

I expelled the air I'd been keeping in my lungs, trying to salvage some nerve but instantly finding the threat of tears instead. Pregnancy hormones, just pregnancy hormones. A rueful laugh eked out of my throat as I let the first few fall. In the blur, I walked back towards the kitchen, picking up the plates on the way so that I could deposit them in the sink. Except they almost didn't make it, threatening to be dropped as soon as my feet hit the linoleum and spied Viv's journal on the countertop. She forgot it!

The blue velveteen top was marred by the white of paper. I moved closer, setting the plates to the side to see the business card so perfectly placed in the middle. It was all of her information with an amendment next to the phone number; "business" had been crossed out and in fine, delicate hand was "personal" along with a string of numbers. I picked it up, flipping it over in my hands just in an attempt to make sure it was entirely real.

Instead, another dream appeared. In the same hand, the message blared: "Please give me a call when you're done reading. I'd love to meet for lunch."

Notes:

I can't tell you how much I love having Viv as a real person.

Chapter 7: What You Deserve

Notes:

Grab tissues because I'm a dramatic MONSTER.

Chapter Text

Technically, I should have been working. I did catch up on all my emails and then made one or two calls that couldn't be avoided but my eyes kept flicking to the journal that I'd moved to my desk. I flipped open the cover and picked up the business card again, weighing the stock paper between my fingers. Maybe it's just an editing thing. She knows it's my work, right? So why not look and give my professional opinion?

The card slipped from my fingers, wobbling back to still against the open cover.

Or maybe it's just a fan thing. Appeasing my stupid gushing.

I tapped it again, trying to urge the paper to give me an answer.

Instead, the doorbell jingled, bringing me some reprieve from my compulsion. There was no reason to hurry my steps, assuming that it was some sort of perfunctory thing or, even worse, Papa deciding to stop by unannounced. I steeled myself for the latter as I unlocked the door and swung it open. My practiced scowl of disappointment instantly fluttered away as I was met with red eyes and a soft grin.

"Hey, sorry to bother you." He was surprisingly casual today, a stark contrast from his usual swanky hotel uniform. I don't think I'd ever witnessed him in gym clothes--a gray hoodie, basketball shorts the color of his eyes, and crisp white sneakers--but it fit him better, making it hard to look back up at his face.

"Oh, no, it's fine." Embarrassment was starting to make that warble as I realized how long I'd been tracing the image of him rather than his face. Oh, Death, this is getting bad. I snapped my eyes back to his face but only got lost in the thin black headband that was keeping his bangs at bay.

"You OK?" He reached for me, nudging my arm gently. "You're kinda spacing."

It's easy to space when you look… handsome. I swallowed a groan at my own ridiculousness. This has to be some new hormonal thing. Just some stupid pregnancy need that I definitely can't fill. Because there's no way he'd even look at me like this, not when… I answered that thought with a hand smoothing over the globe of my stomach. "Still a little tired, I think. Last night was sort of more exciting than usual."

"Yeah… about that…" His chest rose with slow concentration of breath before he spoke again. "Viv told me about leaving you that note and- listen, you don't have to-"

"I want to." The answer flew without any editing, making both of our eyebrows jump slightly.

"Oh." His hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie as his brow furrowed and forced his eyes away from me.

My heart was starting to clamor in my ribs. "Unless you don't want me to?"

"No, that ain't it," he muttered quickly but punctuated it with a sigh. I watched him chew over a few sentences on his tongue before he continued. "I-I hope you have a good time."

All of the shuddering in my chest faltered, leaving me feeling oddly hollow. "What?"

"You…" He seemed to sigh at his own way with words, a common occurrence during all his starts and stops. "It's sorta like you said. You deserve to be happy, Maka. I think- yeah, I know you're happiest when you're around other people, so I hope this helps."

That surety of nakedness was back, his words stripping away what I thought had covered me. There wasn't any hope of protesting the truth, but it was so painful coming from his mouth. Am I even able to hide things from you anymore? Does that mean you see through me even now and know how stupidly infatuated I am with you? How idiotically tangled up in this daydream I am? Is that the one thing you're kind enough not to bring up?

Through my questions, he teetered on his heels, taking a step back. "Well, I gotta go pick up Reggie. I hope you have fun with Viv- whenever you go." He was quick to turn on his heels, strangely not waiting for some kind of reaction from me.

I let him get halfway towards the door for the stairwell before I couldn't keep my lips from anxiously popping open. "Soul!"

A wiggle of surprise ran through his brow as he turned to me.

"Come by tonight?" I offered, waiting to see tiredness threading there instead of surprise. "You can tell me about how your day went with Reggie. And maybe… maybe coach me a little for Viv. I'm afraid I might go full bookworm on her."

He snorted a laugh, that dangerous smirk creeping up his cheeks. "As if I could break you of that." His eyes focused on me, his face only growing worse, drilling a hole deeper into my heart. "But yeah, see you later."

I watched him continue back on his trail to the stairs, disappearing in the entryway. Stopping my sigh as I leaned against the doorframe was pointless so I let it bluster past my lips. You're clutching to a fantasy, Maka Albarn. I sunk back through the doorway, easing the door shut with another slow leak of breath. Again, stick to the dream that can come true- going to lunch with your favorite poet. That thought only partially settled the last, giving me just enough energy to force myself back to my desk. While curiosity was still killing me, I picked up the card instead and typed the numbers into the screen on my phone.

Only one ring droned, not even giving me enough time to second guess before Viv's pleasantness saturated the other end: "Hello?"

"Hi, Viv, it's Maka."

"Maka!" A rush of joy laced with sweet surprise gave her voice wings. "Oh, I really wasn't sure if that was being too forward of me. Soul didn't scold me, which I thought meant I was fine, but-" She clipped her rambling worry with an airy laugh. "And see? I can't even properly greet you before I just blab on about my own panic. How are you? Not too tired I hope. We were terrible for keeping you up so late."

"Oh, it's alright." It was moments like these I wished for the antiquated phones from my childhood so that my fingers had something to twirl rather than just running along the desk. "I never got morning sickness, but it seems like insomnia has been my main symptom so I don't sleep all that much to begin with."

A soft, thoughtful hum buzzed on the other end before carefully arranged words filtered through. "I only got that in the third trimester. It was because Reggie was constantly on the move. I don't know who was antsier for Reggie to be born, the boy himself or Wes. Or Soul, actually. Maybe a three-way tie."

That delicate image of Soul dusting a kiss over Reggie's sleeping brow drifted over my mind without much beckoning. "Soul was… around a lot after Reggie was born?"

"Oh, he lived with us-" The correction came quickly but even more swiftly was the amendment "-but I think that's better left for lunch, Maka. That is if you're up for it? You don't even have to read the poems-"

"I want to!" While that claim for Soul had come weakly, this I uttered with reckless excitement. Being a fan was so much easier than being a deluded, dreaming pregnant woman. "And I will, but maybe Saturday for lunch? I'd love to give you the time you deserve…"

"Saturday it is!" She chimed back instantly. "I'll meet you at noon. Wear some comfortable shoes because there are a few places I'd like to take you."

A few? How that panicked squeal reverberated in my brain. "Oh, sure, of course." Wow, Maka, eloquent! Please, continue to wow her with your intellect! "I'll see you then."

"Yes, I look forward to it! Goodbye, Maka." A pleasant little hum followed until there was a click.

I dropped the phone and opened the journal, trying to fill my head with questions about what was on the page rather than the history of his life.


His hair flopped soggily, fingers trying to tease the wet strands out of his face.

"You do use towels, don't you?" I flicked a dripping bang from his face, earning me a sneer.

"Ha-ha-" he punctuated each sharply as he swatted away my hand. "Can't help it. Too thick. Holds a bucket of water on its own. Anyway, had to shower first- Reggie had me sweating all day." He leaned back on the couch, already feigning something close to sleep.

With his eyes closed, I took the opportunity to push to standing, starting towards the bathroom. I assumed he must have given me a glance, but my trajectory kept him quiet- never question the number of times a pregnant woman has to use the restroom. I didn't bother closing the door, rummaging through one of the little cubbies in the medicine cabinet. Once my quarry was found, I hid it in my palm, hoping for his laziness to still be in full swing when I exited.

Without even a hint of suspicion, Soul was still laying back as a yawn stretched his lips. Instead of trying to squeeze back into the loveseat with him--which was becoming a tetris-like feat now with the size of my belly--I slipped behind him, my stomach hovering just behind his head. Giving him warning would have ruined the fun of it so I swiftly sunk my fingers into his hair with one hand and unsnapped the clip with the other.

"Hey!" His eyes shot open but he froze, fingers digging into the upholstery.

"Stop complaining," I chided. It was just one simple twist before I slid the clip into his hair, matting back the still damp bangs. "There, out of your eyes. You're welcome."

"I probably look like a fool," he muttered as he narrowed his eyes at me. "Be honest, how stupid does it look?"

"Scale of one to ten?" I raised my eyebrows.

"One being total dork." He was trying not to smile but that deadly smirk was tugging up one corner while his ego tried to negate it.

"Ten," I chimed happily as I slid both hands to his cheeks. "It actually looks kind of handsome." Color exploded across his face, bringing a depth to his eyes that I couldn't help but fall into. "Or at least better than the drowned rat look you were going for." I tapped at his face before releasing him. You realize flirting doesn't work, right? You're just embarrassing yourself and him.

"Next time, warn a guy," he grumbled before he sat up to put enough space between us that reaching for him again would require a stretch. I was about to internally sigh over the distance when he slid his phone from his pocket. "You-you wanna see the pictures with Reggie today?"

"You actually took pictures?" I couldn't keep the skepticism from my brows as I leaned closer.

"Sit down, there's plenty." He motioned next to him, instantly earning my movement. He was no longer lounging, leaving just enough room for me and the baby. As I sat, he simply plopped his phone into my hand, camera reel open. "And noI didn't. Reggie did. He fucking loves it. I don't understand what the fuss is, but he'd take one a minute if I'd let him."

While Reggie was no Ansel Adams, most of the photos had some kind of focus instead of just some indiscriminate snaps. There was a myriad of bugs, a variety of leaves in all spectrum of color, and finally a few of his uncle trying not to get his picture taken. I settled on one with Soul on a park bench, his chin in his hands as he tried to stubbornly grimace for the camera. Really, a corner of his smirk was there, that beautiful shine of amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Oh, Death, Maka Albarn, what is wrong with you? My lips crinkled to stop the sigh. You really are desperate, aren't you?

"C'mon, not those," he complained as his finger forced the screen to another snapshot of a beetle. "Hey, do you think he's old enough for a camera?"

I hummed through serious thought. It was refreshing to have some kind of logical interlude from my embarrassing borderline obsession.

"And not one of those stupid kiddie ones…" Soul retrieved his phone from my fingers but kept his close lean to share the view. He flicked over to the browser, a tab open on a sturdier-looking digital camera. "It's sorta made for outdoors I think, so if he drops it, it ain't the end of the world. But I don't wanna give him some little kid thing. I think he's good enough--interested enough to have one of these."

Death, it made my heart heavy. This was a deep mire in my mind- a mess of emotions almost completely inextricable. There was definitely a healthy dose of envy--could he ever love me that way?--but mostly drowning in admiration of all of him. This man was dedicated, loving, attentive to each and every need of those he put under his care and… he's wasting it on me. "I think that'd make you his favorite uncle."

"His only uncle," Soul snorted in reply. "So you don't think it's too much?" He was studying my face, making my gut churn with the terror of him seeing right through me.

I nodded, trying to produce a steady smile. "I think it's a great idea."

That spine-tingling grin was back on his face. "Thanks." He dropped his eyes back to the phone to take one last glance before blackening the screen. Even with the distraction gone, his arm stayed lounging against my leg. "So… did you talk to Viv today?"

"I did. We're going out Saturday."

"Cool." He nodded along with that, but the quiver of his lip subtracted from the security of that statement. "She say where?"

"A few places, apparently."

He sighed. "Yeah, that's Viv."

"Should I take an overnight bag?" I laughed dryly since his smile had waned.

"Nah, just…" The turn of his head was slow, his eyes lingering over my face as if what he wanted to say was written there. "Like I said, have fun, OK? Let her take care of you. She likes to do that; it's sorta her thing."

I tried to resist it, but my hand crept over the top of his, getting what I could of his fingers around his phone. "Is that why you lived with them?"

His eyebrows instantly jutted up, jaw cracking open to release a slow bit of air before murmuring. "She mentioned that, huh?"

It's not your business, Maka. That reminder crumbled to bits as he dropped his phone, allowing for my fingers to tangle in his. "I asked if you spent a lot of time with Reggie and that was her answer."

He cleared his throat before it bobbed through an unsteady swallow. "When you and I met, I'd been here for a year. Moved out because they were going to be on this European tour, so…" His eyes scanned towards my bedroom, looking for the balcony. "Coming back to that empty place hurt a lot more than this."

If his words weren't enough, it was as if the oily sorrow was leaking through his fingers into mine. "Soul…"

"Guess that's why I reacted that way when I saw 'em." He smiled ruefully. "A little over a year without 'em. I hated that."

I wanted to reach into his chest and patch the wound even though I knew there was no substance known to man that could fill that kind of hurt. "Why didn't you go with them?"

He shrugged and a laugh just as lame parted his lips. "I thought I was doing OK. They thought I was doing OK. I was a lot better anyhow, or at least a lot better than…"

The pause grated into my bones, holding back all my air with its longevity. It's not my business. It's not my business. Death, I want you to tell me. It's not fair. I can't do anything for your pain like you do for me, but if you'd tell me-

Red eyes hazy with the start of tears snapped to mine. "Sorry. Bringing up stupid shit that doesn't matter."

"It matters, Soul," I murmured and put all the strength of those words into a squeeze of his hand. "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

His glance fell to the connection before sinking towards his lap. "I-I didn't want to get married."

The word rang like a slap to my cheek.

Soul's shoulder's collapsed as his head fell into the hand that wasn't desperately anchored to mine. "Can't even tell you why we were together other than some rich kid arranged marriage. Her parents wanted it. My parents wanted it. Pushed together since we were kids and… I just let it happen." His gale of a sigh rattled into a rough clearing of his throat. "I let a lot of things just happen."

"No-" I forced the weak murmur from my lips "-since something tells me you're not married right now."

"Nah." A laugh trembled up from him, raising his head with the force of it. "I broke it off just before, but that meant nobody wanted anything to do with me anymore. Or at least I thought so. Viv sorta… changed that." His eyes crept along my hand, stopping at the wrist. "She brought me to live with 'em. Made up some excuse about needing help with Reggie like I was some nanny or something. Really, she just tried to glue us all back together. Me and Wes. All of us as a family."

My other hand slid into his view, moving to cradle his hand in both of mine. The real pull was to engulf him in my arms, but the set of his shoulders was still strangely stiff. Something about him was closed off and I didn't dare try to force it for fear of breaking it.

He sighed. "Just sorta thought that I'd never get love. Took practice with Viv, Reggie, Wes, but it felt like maybe it started to take. Then they left." Soul shook his head, a glum smile pulling at his lips. "How selfish, huh?"

"What's selfish about it?" I couldn't stop the immediate attack, almost sure that I'd misheard.

"Just taking what you ain't good at giving back." His red eyes finally flashed at me, his smile entirely eaten up by his sorrow. "I've never been good at loving someone."

Liar! I wanted to scream, to shake him desperately with my words and my hands. How can you be so stupid? How can you not see that you are? I pulled in a breath to temper it down from a scream. "I don't think that's right."

He was frozen in utter dullness and it was the blankest I'd ever seen his face. Only his silence followed, leaving him entirely still.

"When I first saw you with Viv-" that heartbreaking truth ripped at me again "-I knew you loved her. It was obvious. And it was obvious she loved you, so you can't be bad at it. Not when it's so plain."

He dropped his eyes to the floor with just a scant shake of his head.

"You can say the past tense," I offered as if it was my place while I worried with his fingers. "Maybe the old you couldn't, but… I've only ever seen you capable of it. Good at it."

His eyes followed hardwood as if he was memorizing the grain. I almost wasn't sure whether or not he'd taken a breath or if he'd just ceased the need. Soul was so dug into himself that I was afraid he'd never come back, that this hand was the last little piece I'd have of him and then-

"You-" He cut off to finally pull in a breath to prove his lungs worked. His eyes shut with the inhale. "You hungry?"

"What?" Whiplash was easier than the change in conversation but one look at the strain in his face told me I was right--forcing would break him.

"You didn't eat dinner, did you?"

"No." I worried my teeth into my lower lip but he was completely elsewhere.

His heels tapped twice before he used them to launch to his feet. "Let's go."

"Out?" There was that tangled web again. You and me, eating in public? You being seen holding the hand of a pregnant girl? If you hold my hand. If I can even stand it.

"Yeah, out." He tugged my hand but his eyes were all for the door.

No, no, no, no, no! Because all you're going to be able to think about is whether or not this is--exactly what it's notBut cabin fever had my every last nerve alight. "OK." Leaving the house had been about odds and ends--doctors, errands, groceries--besides a few times with Papa. This was us, going out, being together in public. Each little bit of exhilaration was laced with terror--with that feeling of a bubble about to break. "Just nothing too spicy."

"For you," he corrected. The playfulness brought some life back to his grin. I waited for the release of my hand but he just continued to tie me to him, bringing me to my feet and then towards the door. He only left enough time for me to slip on my shoes by the mat before opening the door. He just wouldn't let go, and I wasn't willing to be anywhere else.


I walked into the quiet cafe clutching at the journal like a talisman, hoping for the eloquence of Viv's writing to somehow leach through my fingers and unlock the tangle in my head. Everything about her again was stunning, her hair down in natural waves accompanied by a gauzy white boho gown adorn with intricate green stitching to match her eyes. Before I could even open my mouth she was up, rushing towards me in the same fashion as if I were Soul, not just carrying around all my feelings for him.

"Maka!" She paused just before reaching me, arms swaying from wide to short at the last minute. Her hands fell over mine on the book. "It's really lovely to see you. I hope you don't mind…" She wasn't all that interested in clutching the book, just freeing it so she could have one of my hands. "... I already ordered some tea, decaf of course. I honestly couldn't go back to caffeine after I gave it up for Reggie." Viv settled me in a seat before returning to her own, only then giving up my hand as she sat. The journal flopped lifelessly to the table.

"Tea sounds wonderful. Thank you for inviting me." I nudged a finger towards her pages. "I'm sort of still a little awestruck, to be honest."

That tension bolted through her shoulders again as her hand lifted from the table to cover the pinking on her cheeks. "And I'll be honest that I still think Soul's somehow put you up to this. He learned teasing from his brother and Wes is the best at what he does, so…" She raised her eyebrows at me, awaiting the verdict.

I laughed softly, waving hands in innocence while I let it chime. "No, really! Soul definitely kept it from me. He mentioned you all but not who you were. I've been a fan since you debuted in the Death's Journey Anthology."

Instead of placating the shock on her face, it exploded, her mouth gaping momentarily before shaking her head to snap it shut. "No! Oh, that was the beginning. I wrote that-"

"-amazing poem: 'A Dirge from Nightingales.'" I couldn't resist finishing for her. "That poem--you can't even imagine how much I needed that poem. I'd just lost my mother and-" There it was, the waterworks again! It was almost impossible to keep my eyes dry and with the background noise of a date that wasn't a date with Soul last night and the ever-approaching arrival of my baby--my son--I wasn't anywhere near being able to scare the tears away.

"Oh, darling…" She was instantly reaching across the table, napkin in hand as an offering. "That makes sense then." I took the gift and as her hand freed it moved to my elbow, tapping sweetly. "I wrote that and then the whole collection--your favorite--after my brother died. Mourning him was all through those poems. Losing love unexpectedly."

I dabbed at my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Viv was quick to chirp as her fingers caressed my arm again. "Rémy was very important to me, just as I'm sure your mother was to you. Tears for that isn't something to be sorry for; I still cry for him, after all. I definitely did when I was pregnant." Her eyes drifted momentarily, a hesitant smile starting to curl her lip. "But new life helps. Reggie helped me, so maybe your darling little one can do the same for you."

Jack. It was somewhere between a plea and a prayer. I knew that I couldn't ask him to fix everything--that's not a child's job--but I was at least hopeful that Viv would be partially right. Having Jack was something--not a mistake. We let that silence drift, the waitress coming by with the tea and pouring with that awkward lack of eye contact with the tearful pregnant woman. Even if I hated it, I was already used to it at this point. After all, how many times has Soul seen you cry? That was definitely not the line of thought to dry my tears, leaving me with one more brush of the tissue before I could quell them.

Viv's hands slipped back to her cup, both wrapping around it to sap the warmth right from the ceramic and into her smile. "So, I meant to ask: which publishing house are you editing for?"

"Oh, I don't know if you'd even know it: Spartoi Books." I watched her nod as I sipped my tea.

"And your art- have you had a show at all?"

A groan leaked out of my throat. "That's where I think Soul is teasing you. I just- I loved the flowers he gave me so I just wanted to hold on to them." The heat and color were flushing at my throat but I couldn't seem to stop the spill. "I've done it a few times before and that one probably came out the best, but it was really about saving them."

"That's so sweet," she murmured. Her eyes blinked with slow thoughtfulness as she stared at the amber liquid in her cup. "You've known Soul for some time, then?"

The question was a bitter pill on my tongue. There were layers, a dangerous minefield of insinuations about timelines. It wasn't as if I could see it as some dastardly accusation either since Viv's face only denoted sweet concern, maybe a smidge of curiosity. "I was two months pregnant when we met. The baby isn't-"

"I know," Viv cut in as her smile leaked away. "I know it's not. He-he doesn't…" The cup clinked back into the saucer, freeing her hand so it could cover her lips. She hid a shaky breath there before dropping it to her lap. "I'm sorry, Maka. It's really none of my business, I know, but you have to understand-" her words were a flood barely held at bay "-he's so fragile."

"Stuck," I murmured, but it hit her like a bullet.

"Yes." Her hand slid up to her chest as if to try to close the wound. "I have to admit that I invited you because I just- I needed to know. I lost Rémy and I can't stand the idea of losing Soul too. They're both the same, you know? Always-always giving in to what others want at the expense of themselves. I thought maybe at least Soul was getting better, but then we left and… he's alright, isn't he?" A rattle of desperation quaked through the question.

Giving in to what others want at the expense of himself. How many times has he done that for me? How many times am I going to let him be stuck just for the sake of keeping me company? While I had been scared of my tears never drying just moments before, my ducts turned to ice at the thought. He was moving forward, and now I'm holding him back. I can't do this to him forever. I forced my muscles into the best smile I could manage. "He's getting better. And now that you're home, it'll be a lot easier for him. He loves you- missed you."

Viv's mirrored my grin as best she could. "It was a mistake leaving him, but you're right. He'll move forward. He has everything he needs now."

His family. I swallowed all the self-pity I could imagine with a sip of tea. There's no reason for me to keep being so selfish. He deserves his happiness too.


His snickers filled the apartment as soon as he entered. "Why the hell are you sitting like that?"

I'd actually been half asleep and while his entrances usually brought some kind of exhilaration, this one felt like another stitch popping open in my heart. "My legs hurt," I murmured mournfully as I flexed a foot over the side of the couch. Resting my ankles on the arm had done nothing and I had scooted to get my calves underneath instead, but it hadn't abated the pain.

"Cramps, huh?" Next thing I knew his hand was tentatively tapping my ankle. "Viv used to get 'em."

My elbow lifted, unveiling my eyes so I could blink up at him. Her name just brought back the afternoon, the tenderness of her being the best sister I could imagine. "With Reggie?"

"Yeah." He prodded again before clearing his throat. "I can rub 'em if you want. Not a masseuse or anything, but Wes used to do it for her so I think maybe I remember a thing or two."

"Rub my calves?" I couldn't help the incredulous undulation.

"Yeah," he repeated, but this time his eyes met mine instead of my ankles.

I couldn't figure out what hurt more at that moment: my legs or my heart. I thought I had made a decision sitting at that table with Viv: to finally give Soul what he deserved. But here I was, ready to fall right back into making him take care of me. I'm so weak. "Isn't that weird?" I croaked.

"Dunno," he muttered with a brief lift of his shoulders. "Listen, for-"

"OK," I cut into his words, knowing what was coming and dying not to hear it. I can't forget it. I can't let you go. I feel like I'm breaking some kind of promise to Viv, but I can't.

"OK," he echoed as one hand slid to finally touch rather than tap.

Death, I wish I never knew what his hands felt like. Dexterity on a piano easily translated to skin, subduing my muscles to order with simple but firm touches. I was used to warm hands in mine but this was entirely different, igniting a new kind of fire under my skin. I couldn't bear to look at him but when I tucked my eyes back under my arm, it was as if he was seared in my brain. His smirk, that throaty chuckle of his, the way his chest felt rising and falling against mine when he held me. Now this. Now the way his hands felt on bare skin. The way they could clutch and knead. The way I wanted them there and everywhere.

"Maka?"

That's when I realized my cheeks were soaked and even though I tried to tuck my face further into hiding, it was futile.

"Hey…" His hands were climbing, touching my knees as I could only guess he was moving towards my side. He must have, since the next whisper came so close to my face I swore I could feel the breath on my arm. "Did I hurt you?"

Yes! I wanted to scream. It's ridiculous, it's childish, but you are! You're hurting me so much by being just what you are- the kind of perfect I actually want. The kind of perfect that's not but it's exactly what you need. That's you, Soul! You're that for me and I'm-

"Maka, look at me," he murmured as gentle, well-meaning fingers touched my arm.

I jerked it away and he had no choice but to jump back, now standing to loom over me. "It's nothing," I warbled as I used the same hand to clear the tears from my cheeks. "Just stupid- It's nothing!" Sitting up wasn't exactly a swift activity for me anymore and to make matters worse his regular compulsion--to help in any instance of need--had him reaching for me. I shoved his hand, making his eyebrows pop as he took a step back.

"Did I do something?" his voice cracked as his hands still wavered somewhere in the realm of helping.

"No."

"Maka-"

"It's not your fault! It's not you!" The burst came as I finally managed to sit up, the baby weighing me down almost as much as my heart. I couldn't look at him and even if I did, I wouldn't have seen him since all I had was an underwater view.

"Then talk to me-tell me-"

"Just go," I wailed.

"Maka…" It was less of my name and more of a pathetic burst of air.

"Please, Soul, just go," I urged again as I pressed my palms to my eyes. I tried not to hear his breathing, his shuffling. Tried not to give in to the anticipation that he'd refuse, he'd hold me, he'd once again just buckle to my selfishness.

"I…"

"There's nothing you can do."

All he managed in reply was a shaky breath before his footsteps started. I listened to him leave, listened to him exist only separated from me by a wall. I listened to him pace until the slide of the balcony door rang clear. I listened to him play and play and play until I wasn't sure what had to be more numb: his fingers or my heart.

Chapter 8: Tomorrow

Notes:

A warm welcome to being back in Soul's head. I missed him. Plus, I couldn't leave you with Maka's mess.

Chapter Text

It was light by the time I stumbled back into my bedroom, hands aching from overplaying. Work was going to be hell for the afternoon piano segment with that kinda stiffness. Nah, it's gonna be hell because you didn't sleep. You won't sleep. You just keep thinking about her pushing you away. Because even if she said it wasn't you, you know it is. You had the nerve to touch her like that. To want it not just for comfort but… I heaved a sigh as I threw myself on the bed.

How long had it actually been since I'd had sex? Stupid question. Embarrassing question. Death-just-kill-me-now sorta question. Answer: too fucking long. So fucking long that maybe I was half fantasizing until I saw her tears. So fucking long that I forgot what I'm here for--to take care of her--and thought maybe I could actually fulfill some kinda need. Because while I loved being with her just in that platonic sitting on the couch sense, I couldn't stop thinking about how smooth her skin is, how that overjoyed little giggle would sound fluttering right next to my ear as my hands gave her goosebumps.

No, I wasn't going to be sleeping.

I picked up my phone, first checking to see if maybe-just maybe she'd texted. I didn't even want an apology, probably wouldn't have the guts to ask for an explanation, but at least a good morning. Death, you're fucking pathetic. No new notifications besides a few stupid spam emails so I flipped to my contacts and clicked the second entry.

Viv immediately bypassed the normal overwhelming warm greeting for her second go-to, worry. "You're up early, aren't you?"

"Can't sleep," I muttered the hard truth.

"You have to sleep, Soul. You have work later today, don't you?" She was shuffling around in the background and I could hear Reggie clamoring somewhere. "Not right now, darling. I need to talk to your uncle-" she chided off to the side but it was quickly followed by a folding sigh "-oh, hold on!"

"Hi, Uncle!" Reggie immediately chimed after.

"Hey, Reggie." I managed to produce half a smile even if that little glowing ball of energy wasn't here to see it. "Sounds like you ain't listening to your mama."

"I am too!" he urged back with all the authority a kindergartener could give. "I just wanted to say 'hello' and now I'm going to eat breakfast. Are you eating breakfast?"

"Reggie," Viv scolded again before her voice came back full strength. "Are you eating breakfast?"

"No," I sighed. "Viv, how did yesterday go?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" She let a bright laugh punctuate that. "You shouldn't. I had an amazing time with Maka. She's truly a wonderful girl, Soul. I'm so happy you've bonded with her like you have."

Bonded. You're being real safe, Viv. "Viv, did she-"

"I tried to stay out of your business, I swear!" She ran blindly towards the answer to a question I didn't ask. "All I asked about was how you were doing and, well… alright, truthfully, I may have said you had everything you needed now. You have your family and you have Maka. I couldn't help myself! After seeing you with her that night, I couldn't get it out of my mind. You were happy, Soul. I haven't seen you like that in… never. When you were engaged to that girl-"

"Yeah," I cut her off, trying not to bring back that ghost. Mentioning it to Maka had already stirred up the memory and brought that terrible empty hole back in my gut just long enough for her to fill it. I wished I could have her voice on repeat:

"I've only ever seen you capable of it. Good at it."

To think that she could say I was good at loving someone. Maybe that's why I was stupid enough to try that date that wasn't a date since I didn't have the courage for the word. But I wanted to go out, I wanted to be seen with her, to have her seen with me, and I wanted to pretend- Death, I wanted to pretend that all of it was mine. That was the worst part: taking her home and realizing that I wanted every last bit of it and maybe… maybe I was realizing how much the pregnancy did matter. There wasn't any changing genetics, but-

"Soul, I was worried. Wes said you were so distant on the phone and I knew when we left it was too early, you weren't fine, but- now it feels a little foolish. Seeing you with her makes me feel a little foolish that I worried at all about you."

I bit into my lip to stop the sigh in reply.

"And I'm glad she has you, too. She needs it. You're helping her just as much as she's helping you, I know it." Her sigh came with all the sweetness in the world rather than the regret that wanted to stain mine. "But, please, remember to keep doing things for yourself. This is a good start, but I want to remind you that you're allowed to have what you want. You're a good man, Soul. You deserve your happiness."

"Thanks," I murmured. "I, uh, think I'll try to sleep now."

"Good. I love you. Call me tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright." I swallowed through the glass in my throat. "I love you too."

"Have a good day at work."

"Bye." I let the phone slip out of my hands and onto the bedspread.

A good man.

I deserve my happiness.

I… want that with Maka.

I threw my elbow over my eyes, knowing that sleep wouldn't come and there was nowhere to hide from the truth in my head.

But how the fuck do I do that?


I made the mistake of making eye contact with Tsu. It's hard not to, especially when she uses that utterly pleasant lilt that makes me think that she has to be part Siren. During my thirtieth drink order for her, she even broke out the big guns: "Soul?"

Using my name like it was a question! Like I wasn't the only one in front of her at the moment. "Yeah?" I got away with looking at the ripple of drinks as I steadied them on her tray.

"If it's not too much…"

There I fell victim, my eyes darting up to that merciless dark indigo. "Yeah?" Yes, dipshit, just keep repeating yourself.

"Do you think you'd mind coming with us tonight?" She added the smile, the one that told me she wasn't alone in this dastardly plan, the jawbreaker sweet face that could make Stalin wilt.

"Where?" Why I was wasting my breath I couldn't tell. I was doomed. I was going even if I gnawed through my own foot to get out of this trap.

"Liz and I are just going to the diner. You know, nothing special, but… I just think it'd be good if we all caught up, don't you?"

Caught up. I sighed. For Mr. Stoic you sure suck at keeping it off your face, huh? "Yeah, OK."

"Great!" That was entirely awash with just as much enthusiasm as the exclamation mark intones since Tsu never really faked things.

I managed half a smile before she skipped off. It wasn't exactly torture when we were all together outside of work, but this wasn't exactly going to be Liz dishing about dates or picture shows of Tsu latest textile project. It was me. They were coming for me and, Death, was I fucking terrified.


Disco fries are an abomination.

OK, fine, they look like an abomination and I'm sure nine out of ten guts would agree that eating them is asking for a quick colon cleansing. Liz always insisted that this was the best depression food. I always answered that it gave you depression. Agree to disagree. But that's what was strewn across the table in front of me, so that's what I was eating.

I got one heart attack slathered fry in my mouth before Liz jumped at the bit: "OK, how bad did you screw up?"

I shrugged to buy enough time to chew.

"Maybe if you start from the beginning…" Tsu offered gently while she played nervously with the straw in her coke.

Leaning on my elbow, my cheek was crushed just enough so my words filtered out with a lazy drawl. "I went to her apartment after work. It's not our usual day but she was supposed to meet Viv for lunch-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa-" Liz interrupted with a frantic wave of her hand "-you mean the girl you like--can I just call her your girlfriend?--is hanging out with your sister-in-law?"

"No, you can't," I snapped before heaving another desperate breath. "Viv and Maka have some stuff in common, that's all."

"You!" Liz corrected. "They have you in common, Soul. This is classic girls checking each other out. You were probably the prime objective of the conversation."

"Or at least part of it," Tsu tried to temper, especially as the grimace started to crack my lips. "Also, could we know her name?"

The frown set on my face but I still let it go: "Maka."

Liz scrunched her nose a little. "Different."

"Pretty," Tsu cooed as a softened correction.

She rolled her eyes at the sweetness before sinking her claws back into me. "So, you went to Maka's apartment after work. Did you say something about her going to lunch?"

"No." One-word answers were sacrilege in these kinds of situations, so I tried to make it seem like I was actually collecting thoughts instead of having them all painfully prepared by reliving the moment for the entirety of my shift. I focused on a slick of gravy, nabbing a fry to draw a line in it. "She wasn't feeling so hot so I was massaging her calves-"

"Excuse me?" Liz snapped before coughing out a dry laugh. "You were massaging her? And you have the nerve to say this isn't your girlfriend?"

"It's not-" I cut off with a groan.

"It's more complicated than that?" Tsu offered the sweet reprieve but didn't know she was just digging my grave deeper.

This was it. There was no turning back and no matter how much I just tried to run from reality I knew I'd already reached the point of no return. "She gets cramps in her legs because… she's pregnant."

The fry that had been poised in Liz's fingers made a wet slop as it hit the table along with her jaw. For once, nothing came out of that gaping maw.

"Soul-" Tsu started the tender tiptoe into the mess I'd made "-are you telling us you're going to be a dad?"

I ditched my own fry, only taking time to blot the grease off my finger before I dipped my head into my hands. "No," I muttered from just under my palms. "That was before we met. She's… she ain't with the dad. He's a fucking-" I expelled the rest of that black mess with a sigh. He's a fucking ass, but he's the father, not me. No matter what, he's the father. Doesn't that make him perfect by default-the right fit?

"Oh, poor Maka." Even with the woe directed towards that name, Tsu's warm, tender hand touched at my elbow, patting softly. "So you've been taking care of her."

I nodded in my hands.

"Bullshit!" Liz finally surfaced from the shock. Instead of the same gentleness, Liz was jutting my other elbow out from underneath me, making at least one hand drop away. "You're smitten, Soul Evans. Seriously. You're not just being a good neighbor, you're-"

"Yeah." I tried my hardest to cut her flow, to give me at least a second of air because I couldn't hear it. I'd been trying out that mantra for months--I'm a good neighbor, a good friend--but I knew the truth. "I-I-" I woefully stuttered through words that I had to rip off of the lining of my heart. "What's the spot between liking someone and loving someone called?" I croaked.

"Like I said: smitten." Thank Death that didn't come with her usual know-it-all chime, just a soft, piteous sigh at the end. "OK, so, you were touching her."

"Not like that," I muttered.

That earned me another hit to my elbow as Liz glared at me. "And why not?"

"Liz, she's pregnant," I tried to remind her as if that was the part of the conversation she could actually forget.

"Seriously?" Third hit was not the charm, instead making me lose my elbow entirely and wobble back to sit up straight. "What, a girl gets pregnant and she ceases being a person? I thought you said you were into her!"

"I am!" I snapped but it didn't dull the intensity on Liz's face.

"But you don't want to touch her? 'Not like that?'" Liz was laying out a minefield, but I was honestly ready to just have my legs blow off at that point.

"It's not like I don't want to-" rattled pathetically from my throat. "She's… she's so fucking pretty and interesting, but… why would she even want that from me?" All I could do was offer useless hands between us. "She's got enough fucking problems without me trying to get in her pants, no matter how I feel about her."

"Can I hit him?" Liz hissed the question in Tsu's direction as if she hadn't socked me three times already.

"Liz," Tsu chided and grabbed onto Liz's hand just in case, fry grease and all. "Hold that thought, anyway. Soul, just tell the story. You were trying to make her feel better…"

I looked between the two of them helplessly, actually starting to wish for Liz to hop over the table and put me out of my misery. What else is there to fucking say? Doesn't that just tell you everything? I'm a loser in love or like or whatever with a woman who doesn't need my bullshit. "And she started crying. I didn't blame it on the baby or anything--even though that sorta seems to go with this pregnancy thing--but I just asked if I was hurting her and then it just sorta-" I fanned my hands out to air the explosion I couldn't put into words.

Liz finally lost enough of her bloodlust to join the questioning again. "What did she say exactly?"

"Exactly?" I shrugged weakly. "That it wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything. She was just upset. Said I should leave. Then she just about threw me out and let the door hit my ass on the way."

Tsu and Liz exchanged a silent glance, both sporting furrowed brows and puckered lips. It was frightening to watch them talk without actually talking, but even more terrifying when both heads swiveled towards me. Liz pointed an accusatory finger my way. "Has that been the only time you've touched her? Any kind of touch?"

"Well, no," I murmured. The table was suddenly a lot more interesting than the two of them staring me down so I focused on the sparkle of the Formica. "I-I hug her whenever she wants or when she's upset and-I dunno, Liz!"

"What else?" Tsu urged, now suddenly not so gentle after her brain exchange with Liz.

"Hold hands… just, whatever she wants. I-" puking was easier than this, that terrible emotional bile tearing up the back of my throat "-I want to touch her, so I don't stop. I-I've never been this way before and it's--oh, it's fucking great and fucking terrible at the same time." I wondered how long I'd get away with it this time but it didn't stop me from tossing my face back into my hands just to press my palms to my tear ducts in hopes to plug them.

This time it was Liz's hands that came in like a mother, nails scritching through the shag of my hair. "OK, so, first rule is: pregnant women are still women."

"And if she comes to you to be touched-" Tsu added softly "-then maybe that's actually what she wants, Soul. She hasn't rejected you before and this technically wasn't a rejection either."

"I'm going to guess neither of you has ever even broached feelings?" Maybe Liz's touch wasn't so gentle anymore but even digging into the roots she was still imparting some kind of comfort. "As in, she's never explicitly said: 'I'm not looking for a relationship.'"

"No," I murmured as the burn hit my palms again. "But I dunno why you're trying to get my hopes up-"

"Soul," Liz cut me off with a mournful groan. "You don't know. This whole assumption that the last thing she needs is you crazy about her is just that- an assumption. So, rule two is: you have to ask, or you're going to be stuck like this forever."

There it was, that horrifying word: stuck. Even worse, while Maka was never really a liar, I was turning her into one. I was making sure that even if I had been making progress when we met, I was at a standstill now. I had made that stupid decision to sit and let her leave me which was exactly what I'd fucking done. I just never imagined it would hurt this fucking much. At this point, it was just as bad as losing her, wasn't it?


I don't even think my first recital left me this sweaty. Being in front of people--playing my heart out but knowing it wasn't ever going to be good enough--all of that hadn't prepared me for even an inch of the fear I was drowning in as I walked up the stairs of our building.

OK, so shower first.

Then, piano out on the balcony.

If she comes out--oh, fucking Death if--you say you want to talk.

You say how you feel.

Every last fucking bit of it.

I shot into the stairwell, my feet moving just as fast as my heart thumping against my ribs. And then you jump off the fucking balcony because she's going to look at you like you're crazy! My lungs gave up, forcing me to pause at the top for enough breaths before I could produce a groan. I leaned against the wall for just a second, conking my head against the stucco in hopes of scattering those thoughts. As I pushed open the door from the stairwell, I heard the ding of the elevator.

It normally wouldn't draw all that much of my attention--remember, most of the people living here were geriatric--but it wasn't some stooped old biddy breaking the threshold but a tall man in a suit from a tailor even my father couldn't afford. He only glanced at me but that was enough: sharp blue eyes told me everything.

Oh shit. I urged my feet to move but there wasn't a way out of this quicksand. He's here. He came for her. It's over. Whatever bullshit you thought you were going to say, it's over. That dipshit's here and-

He knocked on her door, sending the rest of the world around me into a tailspin. "Maka?"

There I was, some fucking weirdo just standing in the hallway, frozen. I had to move--I knew that--but I needed to see her face. I needed it all over then and there because when she opened that door, tears in her eyes and a smile on her face, I'd know. I'd know I just had to pack it up. That I'd sat back and fucked everything up again.

The door squeaked, opening not just a crack but a determined swing. With the pregnant belly, she definitely looks ridiculous trying to cross her arms, but Maka was putting in a firm attempt to channel some kind of challenge. All that happy Hollywood bullshit I'd just imagined fizzled away with her furrowed brow. "I thought I said on the phone that I didn't-" While I'd been invisible enough to the douchebag, Maka's eyes flicked to me, momentarily cutting off her words. She huffed before continuing. "Come inside. You have five minutes."

"Thank you," he murmured. The idiot was reaching for her but all he got was a whiff of air as she sharply moved her shoulder to turn back into the apartment. He disappeared behind her, the door clapping shut after both of them.

She barely looked at him.

But she barely looked at me either.

OK, idiot, move! My feet finally unfettered, I made my way to my door. Inside the apartment was even worse, the harsh strikes of her voice filtering through the wall. I moved into my bedroom to get closer to the thin wall we shared and caught a snippet of her high note:

"I didn't ask you to come here!"

He obviously wasn't raising his voice to match her, just a low grating that fuzzed through the divide.

OK, dummy, this isn't fair. It's none of your business what's said between them so go out on the balcony, slip on your headphones, connect them to the keyboard, and zone out. She'll find you after if she wants to. Plan in place, I grabbed what I needed and headed out onto the balcony, hunkering down and expecting to drift off into my own little world. Because I won't be cool. I can't possibly be cool--not if he says something to her. Not if he dares to even say the fucking word "mistake" to her ever again. That brought up an aggressive grumble from my chest, my grip on the headphones turning white-knuckled as I lifted them towards my ears.

The door slid open loudly, slamming back against the frame.

"Maka, listen to me, please-"

"Just give me a second," she spat before tossing open the screen and taking a step out into the moonlight.

I was frozen, hands hovering as my eyes hit hers. OK, now what? Do I say something? Do I just put my headphones on? Do I-

Her hand reached over and batted the headphones to the side, making my arms crumble back to my lap. "Play," she mouthed before she nibbled at her lip. "Please," she added before turning her eyes over to the city lights.

Oh fucking damnit. She might as well have ripped my heart out of my nose. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to go in there and beat that guy senseless because he didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve that baby. That was--that was what I wanted with her. That should be ours. Even though that felt bitterly selfish, I let it all wash over me as I dropped the headphones to the side, unplugged them, and started what I used to think was my song but now was ours. I tried to let that bleed into every last note of it, to show her that while it started with me, it ended with us.

As soon as it started, she moved back towards the door, stepping back inside the screen and only shutting it behind her so that the tunes could keep leaking into the room just as much as the voices could ooze out.

"Maka, just come home."

"To what? You said marriage was the only option. I told you a million times what happened with my parents, and you still didn't think that suggesting that was going to be a little painful for me?"

"We're not them, babe. Honestly, we had this planned out already, didn't we? You finished school, you got the small firm editing job as a stepping stone. I'm working towards partner. After that was going to be marriage, kids--you just pushed it up a little early."

"I did?"

"Oh, come on, what else was I supposed to think with all the 'do you love me?' bullshit you were on about? I know it wasn't going fast enough for you-"

"It wasn't a race, Brian!"

"Damnit, Maka, that's not what I mean. I do love you- I just had steps before all of this. Maybe that's why I didn't react so well to the idea, but you have to admit all of this was part of the plan for us."

"Because we're perfect."

"Of course we are… babe, I miss you. Come home. Please."

The utter, terrifying fear of it all was the only thing keeping me playing. The silence that grew after that pathetic plea was leaving my gut aching and my mind painting too many images I didn't want to see:

He was holding her.

He was clearing the tears off her cheeks.

He was kissing her.

"I don't want perfect."

"Maka-"

"I don't! Especially since you're always the one that gets to decide what perfect is, Brian. Maybe I don't want the big-shot editing job--did you ever think about that? Maybe I like working for Mama's old company and being steeped in all that history of her. Maybe I don't want to go to those idiotic parties just so you can lick clean someone's shoes enough to get partner. Because none of that made me happy."

"Maka, come on-"

"No! I don't want to be pushed anymore, I want to be supported! I want someone who plans with me instead of for me. I want-" As she cut off, I stopped the song, so desperate to hear the end. Instead, all I got was a bold sigh from her.

But that space wasn't empty for long. "You can't expect me to just-you're out of your mind! That's my baby!"

"I thought you made it entirely clear that if I wasn't marrying you then this wasn't your baby!"

So I tried--I swear I fucking tried not to hear that, to let it ring down to my core, but it hit like a fucking tempest. I was on my feet, leaving the piano not so carefully along the rail as I clutched my hands into the metal instead. Say that to her again.

"I told you, it's just--what that looks like- what people will think!"

My knuckles were blaring white against the bars.

Maka's back snuck into view and I watched as her elbow quickly tucked back to almost hit the screen. "Don't touch me!"

Logical thought was gone, and in its absence, I was jumping the railing. As soon as I landed, one hand already on the door, I heard the sick thud. For a terrifying dark moment, I was sure that in a second I'd be ripping that guy apart since my original expectation had been some part of her soft skin tainted by those horrible hands. Instead, a weak, wondrous laugh rang from my throat as I watched him crumple in front of her.

She'd socked him like a fucking champ, leaving him clutching his jaw as horror lined those icy blue eyes.

He'd stumbled back and landed on his ass, blinking up at her as his hand tried to trace the red her fist left behind. "Maka, what the fuck?"

"You don't get to touch me!" She seethed back as she shook out her hand. That beautiful blonde hair swished as she turned her head to glare at me from over her shoulder. "You can go back to playing. I'll be out in a bit."

I raised innocent hands as I chuckled, but I couldn't convince my feet to move. It didn't seem like she needed me to do the heavy lifting, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let that asshole out of my sight. Instead, I leaned back against the railing, eyeing the scene.

Her glare narrowed at me for only a second, flashing back towards the man on the floor.

"Maka, who the hell is that?" Ol' blue eyes was motioning at me as he stumbled back to his feet. I didn't like the way he was trying to loom over her but Maka instantly negated it, pushing his chest to give a clean step between them.

"None of your business," she snapped. "And don't you dare-"

"Is he why?" An accusatory finger lunged in my direction. "What, did the apple not fall far from the tree? For all the times you railed on Spirit for cheating on your mother-"

A hideous laugh left her mouth, breaking his words clean off. She slapped a hand to her lips to try to quell it but it blustered past her fingers anyway. It was sick, half a sob that twittered off into a gasp for air. "Oh, Death, you're making this too easy." His finger was slapped out of the air, replaced with her hand motioning at everything I was. "I'd rather it be him. He'd be a million times better at it than you ever would and he- go ahead, Brian. Believe what you want if it means you'll leave me the fuck alone and I don't ever have to see you again."

Those cold eyes bounded between her face and mine, panicked pinball before the hint of a decision turned that glare even icier. "Everything we had- you'd give it up for this?"

Maka shook her head slowly. "The only things we had were yours. I think I want something that's mine now." She pushed past him, moving towards the door of the apartment. He didn't follow at first, the entirety of his stare now trying to tunnel into me.

I sorta wasn't concerned. Hell, as a bartender I'd had more than one conceited asshole look at me like I was the scum of the Earth, but it wasn't even the warn-down sense of giving a fuck that came with customer service jobs. Instead, it was the best compliment that I'd gotten in months, maybe years rattling in my brain from her lips: She'd rather it be meI'd be better at it! That perfect pedestal that I'd put him on courtesy of all that mopey fucking daydreaming was starting to crumble.

Technically, I could make up a million excuses: she'd say anything to insult him at this point, I could have been any guy and she'd probably have said the same thing, or she was just lying. But as I watched him untangle and deteriorate into that just-another-ex mold, I couldn't help but hold on to some sorta hope.

"Let's go," she urged as she swung open the door again. Even the air traffic control wave wasn't getting him moving, so her brow furrowed. "You've had more than your five minutes."

He took one hard step in my direction. "Just who the fuck-"

Maka was rushing back but I didn't move, letting him toss open the screen as his swiftly moving hand was already on a crash course for my shirt. He snatched it and just enough of my tie to jut me a wobbling step forward.

"-do you think you are?" He hissed in my face.

"Nobody." I let the laziest of my smiles piss him off even more, earning a shake for good measure.

His hand pulled back, fist ready to piston for my face when Maka grabbed his elbow. "Don't you dare!"

He tried to shrug her off, that threat of tossing her on her ass blowing any last bit of cool I had in me. I brought my knee up while I clasped his shoulder with one hand, getting him in enough of a forward bend that I could catch him sharply in the gut. I heard the woof of air from his lips and moved my hand from his shoulder to his collar, giving him enough of a tug to keep him from falling into Maka. "I don't give a shit if you want to fuck with me-" rumbled up from my chest "-but hurt her again, and it'll just get worse for you."

"You asshole," he hissed through a struggling breath.

It barely registered to me, my mind more occupied with continuing our dance towards the door as I slung him by his shirt. "And don't bother with the rich boy act- I got enough money for lawyers if you think you're pressing charges." I got one more good yank before I left him to stumble the last few steps towards the door Maka had left open. "Get out."

He looked behind me but I could only guess he found no mercy on her face. I wasn't exactly going to turn my head and lose sight of the guy to check, but the sickly frown that started on his bruising face was enough. There was one more beat of time--just enough to make me think maybe he wasn't done--before he flashed the back of that suit jacket in our direction and the door slammed shut.

A hiccup sound made my head swivel, ready to catch Maka half in tears but instead finding her smothering giggles. "What?" I balked.

"'It'll just get worse for you.'" She did the shittiest job trying to copy my baritone as her eyebrows crinkled until exploding with another laugh. "Were you being serious? You sounded like Batman or something."

I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, he was being a dick."

"Yeah, he was." The laughter faded as she tucked her elbows into her hands. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for." I shrugged even though the real motion wanted to be a step forward, to bring me close enough to get a hand on her.

"No, it wasn't your problem, and I just-" Her eyes closed, a deep breath flaring her nostrils before she let me see jade again. "We should talk."

"Oh-" quivered up pathetically from my throat. Well, yeah, idiot, you have to talk to her, right? That's what this whole night was going to be before that asshole showed up. You tell her how you feel. You really just come clean because you have to. You have to.

"But can it wait until tomorrow?" Her smile was pathetic, not even a show of teeth, just a slight warbling upward of her lip. "I think that was really enough excitement for me for one day and… it's not fair, I know that-"

"S'fine." Whether I was caving out of fear or concern for her I couldn't really differentiate. "Tomorrow I'll come by after work."

"OK-" she jumped quickly at the end of my sentence.

"OK," I echoed before I had to take the step forward. She shuffled a little, her eyebrows moving only slightly upward as I kept inching forward. Technically, I had to, considering my only way back into my apartment was over the railing again, but I'd be a liar if I said that was the only thing pulling me. I decided one hand--three fingers max--was what I'd brush against her arm. That was safe, that was OK, that was-

Her hand hit me first since it turns out I'd been too in my head to realize she'd been reaching for me since I started the journey. Fingers closed into the fabric of my shirt and whatever trajectory I had was lost so she could pull me in. Since there was no resistance her hands moved, sliding around my waist to lock into me as her head rested against a heart that was beating out of time. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Didn't really need me all that much," I replied dryly, letting a rueful laugh hit the end. "You hit him pretty good before I did."

The breath of her laugh warmed my shirt. "Do you think… Can you just forget everything else and see me like that? I've been so pathetic lately, and that was the first time in a while it felt like I was me again."

"Don't wanna." I tightened my arms around her, mostly to save my own skin and keep her from looking me in the eyes. "I think all of it's been you, and to be honest, I haven't minded any of it."

"Haven't minded," she copycatted in a low murmur.

"You looking for a compliment?" My accusation was supposed to be playful but it warbled, especially since her head was tilting slightly as her breath hit my neck. "I ain't gonna say I enjoy it when you cry. Then you'd punch me."

"Maybe I'll still punch you." She tried to mutter but it drifted into a sigh.

"Dunno, will it make you feel better?" Death, you're a masochist, aren't you?

She snorted a laugh. "I think I'd rather punch Brian again."

"Fucking agreed," I grumbled. One of my hands slithered dangerously to the edge of her hair, tempted to play with the strands. "He-he didn't actually touch you, did he?"

"Down, boy," she snickered.

"Fine." I huffed as I forced my hands to her shoulders to pull her away. Honestly, I wanted to sink into her, let her have this as long as she wanted but it was disintegrating my nerve. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah…" She was looking up at me, eyebrows wrinkling slightly as tears started to mist the corner of her eyes.

"Hey-" I got one big, stupid hand on her cheek before both of us jumped away to avoid the flame. What the fuck do you think you're doing? Actually going to clear her tears? Who the fuck do you think you are?

"Sorry!" The chime of her voice was anything but, just half a warble as she put her own hands to her cheeks. "Death, it's like anything will start the waterworks now. Um, just forget it, really- tomorrow." She waved towards the screen door as she angled away from me.

It was a déjà vu that brought a bitter bite to the back of my throat. My feet weren't listening, taking a step closer to her instead. "Don't apologize for crying," I muttered since most of my energy was focused on my hand drifting towards her. Who the fuck do you think you are? echoed again but I swallowed the fear as I let my palm slip over the back of her hand. I'm the guy who's in love with her, that's who. I sighed shakily, dipping my thumb gently under her lashes to catch some of the liquid. And if she doesn't want it, I'll just be the next guy she punches. That thought helped to inflate my grin, giving it a little life. "Told you I don't mind, right? This part of you is just as good as the others."

Those jade eyes were as wide as I'd ever seen them as color blossomed under my fingertips. "Soul…"

"Don't worry, OK? Just get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." I finished flicking away a few more droplets as Maka just stared. Death, I was fucking terrified but maybe I could just hold onto a corner of hope until I saw her again. I took one step out onto the balcony and let one last call over my shoulder: "I'll bring dessert."

Chapter 9: Perfect

Chapter Text

Eating definitely wasn't what either of us was doing. I was spending more time chewing on words than food as I desperately tried to string meaningful sentences together while she just pushed piles from point A to point B on her plate. All eyes were averted and mouths pulled tight in silence. I cleared my throat and her eyes shot up to meet mine. Her shoulders sagged as she sighed. "About last night…"

My fork involuntarily stabbed into the plate, making a teeth-setting squeal. "Is he gonna come back?"

Her brows furrowed. "I honestly don't know."

"And you didn't ask him to come here," I muttered, not really giving it the oomph to be an actual question.

"No. A well-meaning someone at work told him what building I moved to." Another breath fluttered from her as she dropped her fork against the table. "It feels like it's not fair to say he can't see me since, well…"

"He's Jack's father." I finished her drift and destroyed any hope that she'd smile as her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

"Biological, yes-" her voice started as a flutter but sunk into a coldness I didn't expect "-but beyond that, I hope I made myself clear yesterday. He can't just insist that it's his way." His fingers closed around the metal of her fork, her eyes falling there. "And again, I'm sorry I forced you into that."

"Not like you twisted my arm." I gave up on pretense, tossing my utensils and leaning back in my chair. Death, I needed all the air in the world to fill my lungs for the next one. "But you said… what you said to him, that I'd be better…"

Her lip curled, her eyes starting to water. "I did, but-"

"That a lie?" I forced through whatever excuse she wanted to make. I needed just the yes or no, the destruction or joy.

A sigh fluttered over her lips as her eyes searched the table. "No. I meant it. You're-" that tender glance hit me like a stun gun, jump-starting my heart "-you're a good man. The way you are with Reggie- your thoughtfulness means you would. But that's the problem, Soul. I-I feel like I've been taking advantage of that."

It took every last ounce of concentration I had to just blink- to try to leave her room to finish. I managed to tap a finger against the table as if I actually was Mr. Cool.

"You've been such a good friend to me-" Maka shook her head, a rueful smile parting her lips. "Honestly, it feels like you'd do anything or everything I asked no matter what, and that is the problem."

I shifted in my chair, arms crossing my chest. "So helping you is a problem?"

My question was tossed to the side as her hands spread on the tabletop while her eyes bore into me. "When's the last time you went out?"

The accusation--which was clear from the sudden harsh wrinkle of her brow--made my eyes pop. "What?"

"Out, Soul, for yourself. When was the last time?"

My throat bobbed through a tough swallow. "We went out the other night."

"That was for me," she hissed back as her hands motioned around the apartment. "You're here at least once a week! You're playing every night after work. I can't remember a night that you didn't play. So all I can think is that I've made you stuck again. All you do is worry about me while you're unhappy."

I dug my nails into my bicep, trying to let the pinch bring some clarity to my mind all muddled. "But you're happy?"

The first wash of tears hit her cheeks. "No."

I sighed. "Same reason you were unhappy two nights ago?"

She nodded.

She's going to make you ask if she's even gonna tell you at all. Now, do you have the guts or not? Are you gonna sit and let this all go? "You unhappy with me?" I had to swallow my own urge for tears, just renewing my grip on my own skin to try to hold myself together.

"I-" she croaked before bringing her hands up to clear her face. That slowed any more words from her, just buying time to rub the stains off her cheeks. "I'm unhappy that I-" Her head shook along with a mournful laugh rattling in her throat. "I'm unhappy because of me. Because I'm unfair- selfish. I just-" Pleading jade hit me as her lip quivered. "This has all been some fantasy that I can't get out of and while I'm so thankful for all you've done I need you to stop humoring me, stop being kind when you know- you have to know-"

I stood, taking a stride closer.

"Soul, stop!" She put out her hands and I let her catch me, keeping me at arms' length. "You can't clear my tears- you can't hug me- you can't!"

"Why not?" I murmured. Her hands were on my wrists but slack enough that I was slipping mine back, trying to get them intertwined with hers.

She tried to resist the tangle, tears free to roam down her cheeks and blur her sight. "Because it makes me want what I can't have!"

Even if that seemed like enough spelling out, my hands were still shaking. Planting one right behind her shoulder on the chair didn't really calm them or make me feel steady, but it gave me the angle enough to lean. I dipped down, but she turned her head, leaving my lips close to her saturated cheek. I should have bucked scared--and fuck, did my heart!--but I bridged the last little bit of distance and let my lips caress just a little salt off her skin.

"You can't!" Her hands lifted, first pressing to my chest but then balling up the fabric in her fists. "Soul, you don't-"

I planted another kiss over her tears before tilting my head towards her ear, whispering since the nerves were crushing my throat: "I don't know what fantasy you've been thinking about, but sometimes I… I think about us being together."

Her fists tightened as her breath hitched.

"It wasn't you who made me stuck again." I tilted forward just enough to let my cheek rest against hers. "It was me. It was my fear that all the things I felt for you weren't right. You have enough to worry about without some loser falling for you."

"I-" another sob hiccuped from her as her knuckles dug slightly into my chest. "I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, sorta noticed." I angled away slightly so that my laugh didn't rattle her ear, instantly making me miss the warmth of her skin. "And sorta why I was just… holding back. But you're right, I ain't happy. So--for just a second--I'm gonna take something for me." I pulled back, relief washing over me as her hold on me resisted the movement. Still, I managed to bring us face to face rather than that agonizing slow-dance. "Just let me kiss you."

Those jade pools blinked at me, just a few tears still hanging on full lashes. "That's what you want?" she murmured.

"Yeah." I nodded softly, letting the motion bring me just a little bit closer. "Ever since I bought those flowers for you."

The words barely made it out before she was giving every last ounce of her energy to my own dream. Even her kisses were headstrong, throwing caution to the wind and leaving each lunge more desperate than the last. Maybe I could argue she'd gotten selfish again, but the irony of it was clear: all of her wants were just an echo of my own. My hand moved from the chair to her shoulder, drifting up under her chin to still the motion. I straightened, giving her air as I examined the blush on her cheeks.

Her eyes were still shut like she was waiting for more. "You bought those for me?"

"Yeah." I ran my thumb along her jaw. "Chickened out."

With a few lazy bats of her eyelashes, her gaze turned to me. "What else haven't you told me?"

I snorted a laugh. "That's about it. Flowers, wanting to be with you, those were kind of the big ones." I thought the release of the fear was satisfying, but the utter joy of sliding my hand back into her hair sent me for a loop. My heart and stomach knocked around as both fluttered to try to get steady. "But I mean it. You and me, that's what I want."

Her lower lip worked through her teeth, tempting me to tip towards her again. Still, that teetering look in her eye had me frozen, the nervousness laced there. "I-I mean it too, Soul. I'm pregnant, and with Jack, it-it's a lot of responsibility. I can't just expect you to-"

"You don't have to expect. I wanna be with you and I know that comes with more than just you." I tried to make my touch just as firm as the words, my one hand tangling just a little tighter in her hair while my free one grabbed hers on my shirt. "I ain't his father--I know that--but I want to get to a place where you'll trust me with that. Where he'll trust me with that."

"Why?" The close of her lids pressed out a fresh batch of tears. "Why are you…?"

"C'mere," I murmured. I let the hand over hers on my chest run to her elbow, giving her the momentum to stand. I tucked my whisper next to her ear again as I wrapped an arm around her waist to make sure she fit into me. "Stop crying, alright? The why's easy: you're the right kinda perfect for me. I remember you using the past tense but… I think it fits, Maka. I feel like we fit."

Her arms finally clasped around me, digging into her spot against my chest, a spot that might just be made for her. "You're not a loser," she grumbled into my shirt.

A dry laugh quaked up my throat. "Sorta felt like it at the time. Maybe not so much now."

She shook her head, depositing more tears against the fabric. "You're not allowed."

That bit of laughter caught, making my chest hum. "One kiss and you think you can boss me around?"

Maka lifted her head, and while I was ready for a certain amount of playful sass to come back my way, I wasn't entirely unprepared for her hand to reach up and clamp the back of my neck to force me down. Her lips met mine again, a desperate, deep kinda pull that left me utterly lost. When she released me, I could barely string enough syllables together to make a word, leaving me to just awkwardly gape against her mouth. She replaced my breath with her own before murmuring, "You're not allowed. You're my kind of perfect too."


The buzz of my phone on the nightstand brought my eyes to a lazy half-mast. The whole rest of the early morning had given me the oddest mix of sleep--my heart thundering between the strangest mix of exhilaration at the memory of her kiss and utter worry at the idea that maybe I'd sorta dreamed it all. Light was sliding through the edges of the drapes on the balcony, the artificial darkness leaving the glow of my phone as a repeat of its call. I swatted at it until it was in my hand and pulled it back to the bed.

 


A lazy smirk started to eat up my face. Maka Albarn, you'd hear me if I was awake- you know that.

 


My eyelids were wide open now, pulled slightly by the raise of my eyebrows. 

 


All my usual morning hemming and hawing was tossed to the wayside as I high-tailed it for the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I took the time to examine myself in the mirror. There was really no hope for my bedhead and I definitely needed to shave away the more than peach-fuzz that was hugging my jawline, but ten minutes was ticking away fast. Spitting in the sink freed me to utter a laugh next. This is the first time you're checking yourself out before you see her, you realize that? Starting now would be a little stupid, wouldn't it? She's already… dunno what, but she sure as hell kissed you back.

The door clattered with a knock, leaving me with no hope but to toss my toothbrush back into the holder and splash some water on my face. That hadn't been ten minutes but I certainly couldn't muster an ounce of annoyance, just anticipation fueling my walk to the door. I unlocked it as quickly as my fingers would allow--the agitation had sorta killed any of that piano-practiced nimbleness--and threw on the best smile I could to greet her.

"Good morning," she chimed as she thrust the corner cafe cup into the space between us.

"Hey…" I grabbed the offering but that's where we both stopped, frozen in the doorway as her eyes searched mine.

Instead of reaching for me, her arms circled herself, holding at the elbows. "I'm, um, technically at work, so I just have a minute. Not like they're checking my documents, but if anyone from the office calls I should be there, not here…"

"Yeah, I was just planning on saying goodbye before I went to work…" I dipped my eyes to the cup. "But thanks--for the coffee, and for…" For kissing me last night? For letting me see you again? For making me stutter like an idiot at my front door?

"Soul-" She cut off as her teeth nibbled into her lip.

"Yeah?" I could have smacked myself for the eloquence, but my stomach was already sinking enough with the sudden fear. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she's here to tell you last night was a mistake. You know- tear off the bandaid instead of-

"Could you-" One hand jutted out, grabbing me by the sleeve of my t-shirt. "Yesterday--last night happened, right?"

The few blinks I let pass didn't bring any more clarification to her question. "You mean…?"

"We-we kissed?" The glossy glow to her eyes had me in an entirely different panic.

Like she dreamt it? Like last night had to be wrong because… damnit, does she still think she's not worth it? I huffed at the thought. I brought my free hand to her cheek before sliding it down just under her jaw so that my thumb could keep her chin steady. In the lean down to her, I watched her eyes close, thankfully no tears loosed from the shut. Instead, her cheeks were clear as my lips met hers. "Feels sorta like a dream, doesn't it?" I murmured after just a quick taste. "Thought the same thing this morn-"

The rest of my cute quip was cut by her need. I was almost sure I'd be wearing the coffee in a second as she pressed closer. In the nick of time, I lifted it like a torch over my head but there was still the sear of her warmth latching on to me. My free hand fell away from her face, smoothing down to the small of her back to keep her in place because I was living in the relief of her kiss. Everything in that moment was right, was steady, was fucking perfect.

"We kissed." She sighed out her own relief just a centimeter from my lips. Her fingers were digging into my t-shirt, leaving an entirely enjoyable tingle on my skin.

I cleared my throat before nuzzling her nose softly. I didn't want to give up the space and I definitely didn't want the rational thoughts to intrude but there they were: "And after work, we'll do that again. But right now… you gotta do your thing and I gotta do mine."

"Since when are you the sensible one?" she muttered, moving to run her palms over the fabric on my chest.

I snorted a laugh. "I'll come over tonight, OK?"

"Watch a movie?" she offered quietly.

"Whatever you want." With all the regret in the fucking world, I untangle from her and took a step back so I could lower my awkward coffee arm. "And while Wednesday was our night, maybe we deserve more than one day together? Especially this Thursday. After I watch Reggie, let me take you out."

Her eyebrows bobbed for a second before she forced them flat, a tentative smile hinting at her lips. "Like a date?"

"Yeah, a date." Mr. Cool lasted that long--my voice starting to catch a warble I wasn't proud of. Date wasn't a word I'd really had to use before and I wasn't exactly up on the concept either. I was probably asking for disaster, but I continued to dig my hole: "Hope you don't mind if I take you to the hotel restaurant. Kinda--well, I want you to meet a few people. I want them to meet you. T-to see my-my girlfriend."

A light, airy laugh tumbled up her throat.

"That OK?" I practically squeaked. Death, I probably sounded better as a prepubescent, but there was no stopping the nerves that were jangling from head to toe.

"I think I'd like that." She nodded a few times, her eyes darting to my chest while pink climbed up her cheeks. "Your girlfriend."

"I mean- if you want to be called something else-"

"No." A sweet giggle followed that and Death, could I have kissed her again. "I have to get back to work."

"OK." I gave into temptation, leaning to catch her one more time. Secretly I wished she'd sink into me again but this time it was just a soft brush. "Hey…" I nudged her chin at the release. "How much did you sleep last night?"

"Don't get all worry-wart on me." She was attempting to mutter but the glowing smile I caught as I pulled away was enough to negate it. I stared, unblinking, and got a roll of her eyes in reply. "I always take a nap before you get home anyway. I'll just take an extra-long one today."

I sighed, letting my fingers caress her cheek one more time. "Alright. One kiss before I leave for work and then tonight."

"Just one?" She raised her eyebrows.

Death, this girl was going to be the end of me.

Chapter 10: We Need a Bigger Bed

Chapter Text

Every ounce of my energy was exerted on keeping my face a flat, emotionless stone. Honestly, this was usually the easiest thing in the universe--just kinda let my mind go blank and my face just follows. But blank wasn't a possibility. As soon as I tried to turn my mind off, it was her. Her kiss. Her hands in my hair. Her skin under my fingertips. Any free space in my brain was just running on all that she was, memorizing and categorizing every last bit of her love.

OK, slow down, no one- not one of you said love. Liz said smitten, right? That spot right after liking but before the big leap- before that forever and always kinda stuff. And that was the utterly stupid thought on my mind as I pushed through the doors of the restaurant, instantly earning me an assault from all sides.

"It happened!" Liz jumped up from her prep-work and was already shooting around the vacant tables. "Tsu! Look at him! Look at-"

"Shut it!" I hissed, waving my hands as if I could waft away her volume with them.

The damage was done, Tsu peeking up from behind the bar. While I could appreciate her silence, it was the coy little smile she adopted as she leaned on the dark wood that irked me. "How did it go, Soul?"

I paused, sliding my hands into my pockets and trying to square my shoulders so I at least maybe held some sorta intimidation. "Fine."

"Oh, no, no, no," Liz complained as she arrived to latch on to me, shaking my elbow with enough violence to upend my hair. "You're telling us every last detail--well, minus the unclothed parts."

I groaned as I tried to get out of her harpy grasp. "All clothing stayed on."

"That's no fun." Liz relinquished her hold just to grab me by the shoulders, leading me towards the bar as if maybe she was going to let me start my own prep-work. I should have known that was a stupid hope since she planted me at a barstool right in front of Tsu.

"Soul, you only have to tell us what you want to," Tsu cooed entirely innocently. To tell you the truth, I believed her, it was just the other little devil at my shoulder that wasn't going to let me up until I'd upchucked the entire encounter.

"She told me to stop being nice to her." OK, so maybe I was being a little bit of a shit here--and I knew it.

"And?" Liz screeched as she clutched into the napkins sadly awaiting their silverware.

"Told me I should go out on dates and stuff." OK, I was being a major shit.

Disdain curled Liz's lip like a roller.

At that point, I couldn't stop the smirk which earned me a mega pinch to the tender skin of my forearm--one of Liz's specialties. I hissed as I jerked my arm away. "OK, OK!"

"You need to tell me the drop-dead romantic thing you said in return or you're getting one of those to the nipple."

I should have griped about sexual harassment but it was only going to make matters worse. "I kissed her cheek and told her I wanted us to be a thing."

Liz's hands hovered threateningly. "Soul Evans, if you actually said 'thing' to her, I will murder you."

I sighed, rubbing anxious fingers along the back of my neck. "I asked her to trust me with her and the baby."

Both women in front of me froze in strange tableau. Liz's mouth hung open while Tsu had suddenly sprouted a healthy rim of tears in her eyes. Neither jump-started into the hysterics I was expecting.

"Uh…" My voice trembled and lost most of its baritone with a crack. "Was that wrong?"

"No!" It was a simultaneous gush from both of them. Tsu was already saturated in tears while Liz had practically jumped over the countertop to man-handle me until she could get her arms around me.

"What the hell are you all doing?"

Liz slipped away, throwing a glare over her shoulder at the blond man popping his head out of the double doors to the kitchen. "Hiro, always here to ruin a moment."

"Well, we are opening in like fifteen," he griped. "And Excalibur's already complaining."

"Blah, blah, blah!" Liz clacked her fingers together in time as she started towards Hiro. "I swear to Death if that idiot-" her words cut off with the door as it swung behind her, swallowing both blondes.

Tsu was quickly patting away her tears with a spare napkin before falling back to the last of the prep-work. She was never one for those forward questions--Liz hadn't rubbed off on her--but her tender smile as her eyes darted between me and work was at least a gentle indication I wasn't getting away that easily.

"I didn't put my foot in my mouth?" I finally reached forward and took Liz's share of the napkins to fold.

"I think that was the sweetest thing you could have said," Tsu cooed. "How did she take it?"

"Cried," I murmured and while I tried to shrug, it wouldn't come to life. Her crying that way--like she wasn't worth it--still made my gut shrivel. "Tsu, how do I-" My fingers took the nervousness out on the napkin, abusing the thread count. "The way she cries- it makes me wonder if she thinks she doesn't deserve it, you know? So how do I change that?"

A sweet hum drifted from her, as carefree as a fucking breeze even after the fear I'd just leaked. "You just keep being you, Soul." Her hand touched mine, stopping the anxious fight with the job in front of me. "Trust me, she just needs time with you. She'll see it."

Death, I hoped she was prophetic because time with me? Hell, I'd give Maka Albarn all the time she wanted.


I was in my thinking corner, phone in hand and writing and rewriting a mess of idiotically sweet things in the chat bubble under her name. I fumbled it as soon as I heard the door snap, leaving me to just pray that my butterfingers hadn't sent a half-typed mess of words.

"Here!" Liz chimed as she displayed the flowers in my face. "For when you get home."

"Huh?" My eyebrows climbed up my forehead because something close to a tender, loving smile was on her lips, and me getting one of those was about as likely as a blizzard in Arizona.

"Idiot-" she tempered the beauty of her smile with the snap of her words "-for Maka. Remember how we went on about flowers? We weren't bullshitting you."

"Yeah…" I reached up hesitantly, letting her place the base of the bouquet in my palm. "I sorta took the hint the first time, though. I did actually buy her flowers before." But I'm definitely not going to add that awesome bit of the story about chickening out. I settled the blossoms in my lap and tried to bring my attention back to my phone but Liz wasn't done.

"Huh." She settled her hands on her hips, sending an appraising glare down at me. I almost mistook my heart for a clock in the meantime, the beats intensifying in my ears as she stared. "Think you can take one more piece of advice?"

"What's that?"

"Make sure to take care of yourself too." For a split second, I could have mistaken her for a mom instead of that hard-ass older sister as her eyes gently searched my face. "Since while the whole trusting you with her and the baby thing was goddamn drama-grade cuteness, I didn't hear anything about her asking to take care of you. Make sure she does that. If she doesn't, I'm coming for her." She reached down and ruffled my hair.

I took it, grunting distinct displeasure but settling into it all the same. As if on cue, my phone buzzed.

"That better be her telling you what a stud you are," Liz tossed the carefree words over her shoulder as she turned. "OK, gross, I can't believe I said that," she muttered as she tried to wave it away, laughing all the while before she let herself out into the hallway.

I snickered, but at the same time couldn't keep my stomach from hitting the loop-the-loop. Stud. I mean, she… she definitely isn't shy about kissing me, being close. I said girlfriend and she didn't argue. And girlfriends and boyfriends sometimes… I tried to cut that off with a quick exhale, turning to my phone instead.


My thumbs tensed over the screen as another forlorn breath broke my lips.


Before I could even type the "?" her next text popped up.


All coolness was funneled into that quip, leaving me red in the face as I internally screamed at the screen: In her bed? Tonight?


I tapped my phone to my forehead. She sure as fuck ain't shy about being close.


Pillow under my left and bouquet in right, I got a step from knocking and the door preempted me and swung open. "Uh- hey." Death, how I tried to be suave and tilt the flowers towards her but I don't think the crimson had left my cheeks since our text exchange, even if it had all the explicitness of a Disney movie.

To make matters worse--a million, trillion times worse--she was looking as cute as I'd ever seen her. She had on this oversized button-down pajama top that almost swallowed the edge of her shorts. Not to mention her hair was down, cascading perfectly over her shoulders. "Hi." While her voice was soft her touch wasn't, sorta just parting my arms and barreling into my chest to squeeze me half to death.

I didn't have any hands for holding so I tilted my chin instead, testing out a kiss on her forehead. "You seriously didn't sleep?" I murmured.

"Is that really the first thing you want to say to me?" She pulled me around the waist, bringing me a few steps into the apartment. I kicked the door shut behind me.

"I said 'hey.'" Now inside and hoping that her floor was at least cleaner than the hallway, I dropped my pillow. I dug my fingers into her hair, willing her to look up at me with the gentlest of tugs.

"How was your day?" She murmured before tilting up on tiptoe and brushing a kiss against my lips, trying to steal any hope of a reply.

And, well, I'm a fucking sucker. I fell into it, dropping my hand to her waist to keep her anchored to me. She was relentless and I wasn't in a place to complain.

In case you missed it, I went over the fact that sex had been spotty--OK, entirely fucking absent--for the past [damn date redacted]. Not to mention, me desperately wanting sex--as in engine entirely revved and ready to go--was probably never even a thing for me. Or it wasn't until I had handed the keys over to Maka. There I was, only a few steps into her apartment, entirely ready to toss off every last piece of my clothing and hers.

And herein lies the fucking problem. Because while I was definitely hearing Liz's admonishment in the back of my mind--'pregnant women are still women'--fear was still nibbling away at her logic. What if she thinks it weird? What if it hurts the baby? What if it hurts her? What if I embarrass myself by-

Her lips unlatched from mine. "Sorry," she murmured.

Her tone was a bucket of cold water over my head, instantly bringing me to fuss at her cheek with my hand enough to get her to face me again. "For what?"

"Maybe that was too much…" Her eyes tried to dodge mine but as my thumb stroked a line along her jaw she brought them back to me. "It's stupid- like I'm some teenage girl!" She huffed, putting a step of distance between us.

"Hey-" I filled the space with the bouquet, a little bit of confidence swelling again as her eyes lit up. "It's all new, right? Exciting--so going overboard's sorta natural."

"Yeah, giving flowers straight to me is definitely exciting for you." She barely kept her smile from breaking into a smirk as she took hold of the blossoms.

"Guess I'm never gonna live that down," I griped, but the joy that her face was bringing me didn't wither. "So why don't we just-" filling my chest with all the air available barely bolstered me enough to get the words out "-say we'll let each other know. If it's too much, we just say."

"So the kissing?" she offered innocently enough especially since her eyes were entirely focused on the flowers instead of batting at me.

"Definitely appreciated." While I was technically laughing at my own wording, I was really buying myself as much time as I could. I let that soft chuckle rumble from my chest, but cut it as soon as I saw her jump while one hand dropped to her stomach. "Hey, you OK?"

"Oh," she murmured before adding her own giggle. "It's just Jack. He-" Her words died as a tenseness rippled over her lips, leaving her smile quaking.

"What is it?" There was no keeping the panic from swelling up in my voice and my hands lost all their nervousness to caress over hers. "He OK?"

She turned the tables, slipping out from underneath the hand I'd put over the one on her stomach to clasp over mine. In the process, her shirt had hiked up to give me a palmful of warm, delicate skin. "Laugh again."

"What?" I didn't know what I should be more wonderstruck about, the request or the joy of touching her.

"Laugh, like you just did. I know it's hard to do it on cue, but…" I was still fumbling with worry when she crossed her eyes, blowing out her cheeks with air in one of the most ridiculous faces.

It did its job, making another laugh blare from my mouth. Just as the sound passed my lips, a firm nudge hit my palm. "That's him?" Stupid question--I know--but I couldn't help myself.

"Yup…" She nodded slowly as her smile dissolved while her eyes started to gloss. "He sort of always kicks when you laugh like he has to remind me you're here. He knows it's you." She let go of my hand to shield her eyes even though I was sure I knew what was happening behind those fingers. "Is that too much?" she murmured weakly.

I refused to let my hand leave her, still gently cupping the swell of her stomach. "Well, he's had to hear me for the past couple of months," I muttered. "Maybe it's not that much of a surprise that he would. Gotta say I'm happy it's a laugh that he likes. Sounds like a good kid." Ripping her out of her hiding spot seemed impossible, so instead, I snuck closer and let my lips rest on her forehead again. "Why's that so bad?"

"It's not! It's just-" A wet sigh rattled off her lips. "Here I go, up and down, wanting to kiss you, worried you're taking on too much, thinking about my son, thinking about you, and I-"

"No wonder you can't sleep. Here-" I took the flowers back from her and started the slow walk towards her bedroom "-you're gonna put on that movie and get into bed. I'm gonna-"

"Please don't leave," she murmured as she dropped her hand from her eyes just to cut me to the core with a watery green glance.

"Let me finish," I griped as I slid my hand to the small of her back to push her forward. "I'm gonna put these in water and then take up whatever space you and your pillows leave me in the bed. I'll watch the movie and you'll sleep. That's the deal."

She steadied her glare at me for a minute before sighing and turning into the bedroom.

I waited until she was shuffling around inside before moving towards the kitchen. Oh, it was totally fucking lame but as soon as I got to the counter I took a second to sorta swoon for maybe the first time in my entire life. Please don't leave! That was absolutely overloading every last circuit in my brain with its total sweetness. OK, OK, calm the fuck down! She was cute and oh so fucking sweet, sure, but she's also exhausted and upset. Be steady. Be caring. Be fucking cool.

I found a vase to house the flowers, even taking the time to throw that little bit of plant food they give you into the water. By the time I was done, I could already hear the soft din of the soundtrack from her bedroom urging my sure and steady steps back to where I'd ditched my forlorn pillow. As I made my way back, I couldn't help but pause at the doorway. I don't know why I underestimated the pillow discussion, but I was floored by the pile I found her in. I guess it technically wasn't multiple pillows, just this one crazy one that seemed to loop around her entire body.

"Alright, I'm fucking jealous!"

She frowned in reply.

"I'm not joking." I tossed my sad, pathetic pillow behind her in the small sliver of space that was left over for me. The lead hero had already started blabbing something on the TV sitting on her dresser. "You order that online?"

"Marie bought it for me," she muttered as she hid pinking cheeks against the top half of the swirl of pillow.

"Can totally see why you told me I can't borrow it." I sunk a knee into the side of the bed, testing the groan of the springs. "Only problem is, how the hell am I supposed to fit?"

Her hand shot up in an instant, grabbing at my t-shirt and yanking me towards the covers. I just kept from toppling into her, going chest first to smush into the pillow part that curved around her back. A perfect puff of her perfume lingered with the closeness, leaving me hopelessly, dopily love drunk. "You better not be insinuating-"

"You think this pillow ain't huge?" I chuckled, but the sound froze me for a split second. "Hey, did he kick again?"

Her eyes widened only momentarily before a brilliant smile hit her lips. "I told you, every time."

"Can I?" My hand hovered over the mess of pillow fluff.

"Um, sure." There was some lingering hesitation to her voice, but the grasp of her hand over mine hit with an excited kind of firmness. She was pressing me back to the spot in no time. "Ready."

I produced the best laugh I could. I can describe how Jack kicked, sure, but the way it made me feel? Death, I had no idea how to put that into words. All I did know was that I wanted it. I wanted that to be the exact truth: that a little bit of my happiness brought the same to him. "Thanks for telling me," I murmured hoarsely.

She studied me while I tried as hard as I could to keep my mask from cracking. "Feels like something you should know." Her grip tightened over mine, leaving my hand to rest against her skin as she turned back towards the pillow to half hide her face.

One wrong press was going to leave me to crumble like a butterfly wing in a toddler's palm, but it was almost like she already knew that. Her silence didn't reek of rolling over and ignoring the problem, but instead was leaving me space. I had air to breathe, a choice to make, and as she held so tightly onto my hand, I rested my cheek against the pillow just as the edge of her hair. My chest tightened, the words still gravel against my throat: "Feels selfish." I forced my fingers not to tense, instead just running softly against her skin.

"What does?" The question was a delicate whisper, words handled with care.

"Having this…" I inched closer, climbing slightly onto the pillow just to get my lips against her cheek. I couldn't help it. I wanted to be completely tangled in her to create some kind of solidity that I couldn't explain away as a dream.

"Does it make you happy?"

"Yes." I could have made that a desperate shout but being that close to her ear was going to be murder. Instead, I pressed it between my teeth in an attempt to dull the neediness.

"And I'm happy. I think Jack is too." She tapped my hand. "So it's not selfish. Let's both work on that, OK? Don't be hard on yourself for enjoying this and… I'll try not to be hard on myself for wanting this."

I barely eked out a withering breath. "Deal."

"Thank you for staying."

"I ain't going anywhere." I tried to add just enough orneriness to that and could only guess I'd succeeded by the giggle I got in reply. "Now shut your eyes. Jack's not going to make another peep."

Maka let out a mocking huff of air. "You're definitely making promises you can't keep."

"Well, at least I promise not to laugh." I pressed my smirk into her cheek again, brushing my lips gently before settling back. It was lonesome on my own pillow, but I couldn't imagine breathing down her neck as much encouragement for sleeping. Instead, I took one last minute to caress what I had been allowed to so lovingly touch. Jack, give your mom a rest, OK? I'll owe you a million ice creams when you're old enough, but just for right now, give her a break. I slipped my hand away to reach for the blankets that she'd pushed down to her hip. As I pulled them up to tuck her in, she latched onto my hand again.

"You'll fall off the bed if you get too far away."

I had promised not to laugh but a part of me wanted to snicker. Come out and say it, stubborn. You want me closer, don't you? Even if that pinked my cheeks it livened up my smirk again. I squished into the back of her pillow, giving her power over my arm to arrange it just right around her shoulder. "Better?"

An airy hum of satisfaction sent my heart into overdrive. Her whisper was even worse: "Perfect."


Don't ask me about the movie. To be honest, I wasn't invested from the moment it started. I basically glanced at intervals that kept me from just staring at her to an extent that would make me a total creep.

Don't ask me when my eyes drifted shut. Even in a strange bed that was cramped thanks to that ginormous pillow monstrosity, I completely lost the battle with the Sandman.

Don't ask me how fucking breathtaking it was then to wake up to blonde hair cascading around me as the sweetest brush of a kiss hit the tip of my nose.

"Good morning," she cooed.

I pulled up on my elbow, groggily rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Morning. Please tell me you slept."

She giggled as she settled on the bed, no longer leaning into my space. Maka was reaching for the bedside table and a steamy mug that sat there. "I've only been awake long enough for the coffee to brew. Somehow, Jack only woke up while I was brushing my teeth."

That beautiful, bliss-filled mug was hovering in front of me, but--even with my obvious caffeine addiction--all I wanted was another taste of her. I reached past the mug, letting my hand rest on her cheek. "You feel OK?"

"Best night sleep in… who knows." She laughed softly as she leaned into my touch.

Death, how does she know exactly how to jumpstart my heart? I sat the rest of the way up so I could close the distance. My lips just brushed hers. "Same." I caressed her jaw one more time with my fingers before dropping it to the cup. "Still jealous of that pillow though."

"Hey, you stole enough of it last night," she chided but the humor slipped from it as she slowly eased back. Her lip was pressed between her teeth, taking a worried nibble. "I-I'd really like it if you did that more often-or really just again, I guess."

"Sure." Oh, my smirk must have looked so fucking stupid since it was deeply laced with that goofy drunkenness of being crazy about her. "You just let me know when."

Maka reached for me, a nervous finger working into my t-shirt. "Tonight?"

"Sure, after work." I forced a sip of my coffee to hide the idiotic grin on my face.

"And then Thursday…"

"Date night." I filled the space without hesitation.

She nodded as pink flushed over her cheeks. "Um, I'm going to meet Viv today too."

"Good."

"Have you…?" The hand on my chest drifted between us, wafting back and forth to finish her thought.

"Oh-" my eyebrows popped up my forehead "-I was gonna talk to her when I picked up Reggie, but I could call her today if-"

"No, do what you planned." Her hand relaxed to press over my heart, giving her a front-row seat to the way it stuttered under her touch. "I think I can manage to keep it a secret one more day."

"Maka, we ain't a secret," I hissed as I caught her cheek again.

She turned into the touch, giving me a smile that was no less vibrant than the sun. "That's not what I think. I promise. I want you to tell her because, well… trust me. She wants to hear it from you."

"And she's gonna. Thursday morning, first thing." I let out a lengthy sigh. "But can I at least let her tell my brother? He's gonna be in-fucking-sufferable."

That earned me enough giggles and kisses to bring me the rest of the way to awake.

Chapter 11: A Promise

Notes:

Jeez, I'm laying on the sweetness and you know what's worse? I don't actually have any angst planned. Y'all might just have easy sailing to the end.

Chapter Text

It took just short of a blood sample to get Reggie out of school, always making me waste at least ten minutes toe-tapping in the office as they checked my ID for the millionth time before letting me sign my name to the obligatory sheet. The rest took two seconds because I never had to raise a hand to get Reggie's attention. It's always been like he has radar, just instantly snapping to attention as soon as someone he loves is in range. The kid just feeds off of it so as soon as he catches a whiff of you, he's running for more. "Uncle!"

Luckily I caught them on the playground so Ms. Yumi didn't have a tirade about etiquette to accompany his dash for the fence. I waved at her, getting just the second's worth of acknowledgment I needed before opening the gate. Reggie was instantly smashing into my legs, hugging tightly. "Hey, kiddo."

"Uncle, did you know there's a frog that has no lungs?" He tugged enthusiastically at my pant leg as the words continued to ramble. "It breathes through its skin."

Sounds gross, kiddo. I just barely caught the curl of my lip. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I asked Ms. Yumi to find me frog facts." This was obviously his pride and joy moment and I wasn't about to steal it from him.

"So what's another one?" I sent one last salute in Ms. Yumi's direction as I closed the gate.

Reggie knew the drill, his hand easily slipping into mine as we started the walk back towards their apartment. "The biggest type of frog can weigh 7 pounds, but I don't know exactly how much that is."

I hummed out thoughtfully. "I think I can show you when we get home." While I had expected another few frog facts to fly, Reggie buttoned his lip so long I had to drop my gaze. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "What is it, Reggie?"

He was getting sorta wiggly, that nervous tell that a big thought was itching up from his brain. Little fingers squeezed in mine before he half-shouted. "When are you coming back to live with us?"

I barely got through a rough swallow of nothing but air as the spit dried in my mouth.

"When I asked Mama, she said you weren't, but-but I don't like that." Demand was wrinkling his eyebrows and pulling his bottom lip into a pout. "I don't understand--you always lived with us and then-"

As I slowed, I scooped him up. Reggie wasn't exactly a lightweight anymore, but I needed the face-to-face, the chance to wrap my arms around him. "Sorry, that must have been confusing," I murmured gently. Some relief came as he snuggled close, keeping his arms tight around my neck to hug me into submission. "But I sorta can't come back, Reggie. Doesn't mean I can't see you, but I gotta stay at the apartment."

"Why?" his tiny voice grumbled against my neck.

I started the walk again, patting his back gently in time with each step. "Lots of reasons."

He harrumphed.

"I gotta learn to be on my own-" I started to murmur the list I'd told myself a million times when they left "-and I gotta give your parents some space too. They worry too much." I heaved a sigh, feeling his grip tighten just enough to start choking me just as much as the words. I paused, caressing his arm softly to give my Adam's apple a little room. "I-I need to stay close to Maka too." Is he even going to understand that?

His head popped out of hiding, giving me a clear view of some of his sadness losing the battle with his curiosity. "Because of the baby?"

"Yeah, I want to help with the baby when he comes." A bit more breath eked out of me in relief as I saw the questions swarming on his tongue before he even let 'em loose.

"It's a boy? Like me? What's his name?"

"His name's gonna be Jack." I tousled his hair. "And nobody's like you, Reggie. Don't forget that." That gave him something to preen about, snuggling back into me like he was a toddler again. My arm was aching, but I kept him on his little perch.

"When will he be here?"

"Should be a little less than three months." I chuckled at my own stupidity, knowing the intangibility of time. "Again, when we get home, I'll show you on your calendar. We'll figure out Jack's arrival and how heavy a frog can get."


I knocked softly on the door to Viv's office, instantly getting the endlessly cheerful "Come in!"

Reggie was settled in his room with all my promises fulfilled, now surrounded by crayons and paper with all intention of creating a card for Maka--for what I didn't ask. I opened the door just enough to slide in, giving Viv all the fodder she needed just at the sight of me.

"I thought I heard you both come home!" She was honestly dancing in her seat just as much as her son did when there was a secret to tell. "I went out with Maka yesterday."

"I know." I tried not to smile like a dope- entirely unsuccessful of course.

She planted her elbow on the desk, leaning and letting her wavy black hair obscure the mess next to her laptop. "She is entirely wonderful. Thank you for introducing us."

"Not a big deal." I leaned back against the door, letting it clap shut.

Viv studied me for a moment before raising her eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing wrong, just…" I jammed my hands in my pocket and my shoulders curled even as I pulled in a deep breath. "I sorta have something to tell you."

She spun her chair the rest of the way around to sit primly in front of me, every last ounce of her attention mine.

"I-" the vowel choked from my throat, leaving me desperate to clear it. "So I sorta-" My breath gritted against the back of my throat like a bit of a growl as I unearthed one hand to brush my hair back from my face. "Well, I asked her- she's my girlfriend now." I grimaced at my pre-pubescent eloquence.

As if she had any more room for propriety, Viv's spine somehow snapped straighter. "Now?"

"Yeah."

Her fingers clutched to the hem of her dress at her knees. "But before- before you two were…?"

"Friends, I guess." My brow furrowed as her face started to take on a hint of red. "Why…?"

"Oh, I just assumed!" Suddenly, she was up out of her seat, busy hands reaching for me. "I'm so sorry, Soul! I just thought- oh, how much I must have embarrassed her- hurt her!"

"What?" I let her hands fall on my arms as I cupped her elbows, trying to shake her back to attention. "I don't think you did any of that…"

Regardless of my act of steadying, she shook me. "I have to call her and apologize!" She tried to slip away to turn back to the desk but I caught her elbow.

"Really, Viv, cut it out." We got to fumbling since Viv was never one to let a hurt--even imagined--go. I quickly moved to get my hand over her phone, pinning it to the desk. "I don't think you did anything--seriously."

She shook her head as her eyes started brimming with tears. "But yesterday! I kept telling her how wonderful you were with Reggie- how good you'd be with-with-"

"Jack," I corrected softly. "And that's alright. It's been a couple of days since we got together and I… maybe I jumped the gun but I sorta already told her I was looking to help out with that."

Viv expelled a year's worth of air in a sigh. "You swear?"

"I swear-" I laughed softly "-especially since I think she would've said something last night if you'd gotten outta line. Instead, she was all sorts of giddy." I don't even think that began to describe it. While I'd fallen for Maka's courage and spirit, it was getting dangerously worse with that happiness and bravado that was starting to blossom.

She still shuffled, tapping at my fingers before fluttering back into the chair with another breath. "If she says one word-"

"I'll let you know." I slid her phone another inch out of her grasp before moving away from the desk to lean against the wall. My eyes fluttered upwards to the ceiling. "Could you tell Wes?"

I didn't have to look at her to hear the displeasure, that grunt accompanied by the soft pitter-patter of her nails. "Soul, what do you expect your brother to say?"

There wasn't a chance I could look down, not just because meeting her eyes would cut another fine line in my heart but because tears were already threatening before the answer could even echo in my head. Same thing I always expect.

"He wants you to be happy."

A discordant, rueful laugh rattled out from between my teeth.

"Darling-" her voice pulled at me and my eyes fell enough for the world to take on that distorted quality through my tears. "-he would love it if you talked to him."

"Yeah, well…" I shrugged, the movement breaking the tenuous hold my lids had on the liquid. The first spill started down my cheeks.

"It's alright." The chair creaked as she reached for me, nabbing one of my hands to squeeze before letting it get away so I could clear my face. "I'll tell him. Try not to let it worry you."

"Try," I muttered.

"Well, trying should be easier now, hm?" She tested a glowing smile and it caught since my frown couldn't survive in the face of it. "You have a girlfriend, and in a few months, you'll have the excitement of a baby. You said Jack?"

"Jack," I murmured the name with that growing fuzz of warmth in my chest. "He, uh-" a breathless laugh interrupted that as the memory of that closeness was burning at my fingertips. "He kicks when I laugh."

That bright smile of hers turned blinding. "Reggie used to do that when Wes played! He definitely knew what he liked and it seems Jack does too." She laughed warmly as her hands came to her cheeks like the stretch ached. "I've been meaning to ask--is Maka registered?"

I raised my eyebrows.

Another giggle came before the answer to my wordless question. "A baby registry- for gifts. I assume she's already had her shower, but Wes and I would obviously like to get her whatever she has left."

"Oh…" For the first time--and with a flood of the worst kind of anxiety--I realized the problem. Technically, Maka's apartment was filled with just as much baby stuff as mine- meaning none. Looking back, there was no methodical prepping, no boxes of gifts or purchases, all of it just bare. "Viv, I-I don't think she's had one."

"What?" Her hands fell along with her mouth.

The hair on the back of my neck was electric as her glare started to harden. Suddenly I was reminded of Liz and almost crossed my arms to try to save sensitive skin from the pinch or punch that could come. "I don't think she's had a shower."

"What?"

Death, I knew that wasn't a question, and I knew answering it like it was one meant certain death.

"Ridiculous!" Viv turned around in her chair, fingers instantly back on her keyboard as she seemed to clack away without even changing the tab. "I'm making a list now of what we'll need to do. You'll need to get me some phone numbers- a close friend or her mother. Do you know any of her friends?" The clacking stopped just long enough for her to glare at me again.

"Uh, yeah…" And I sorta have his number thanks to me needing to be on call for his beer needs. I just stopped from rolling my eyes. "Give me a second." I slipped my phone out of my pocket and scrolled to "The Annoyance."

Not surprisingly, his voice boomed almost immediately. "Mr. Cool! Congrats on having your cherry popped!"

My hand clenched so tightly I swore I could hear the phone casing crack. "What did she tell you?"

"So you did have sex!" His laughter brayed over the line.

No, but that ain't a conversation I want to have with you just about now. This was obviously a rock and a fucking hard place, embarrassment sure with any answer. "Listen, I need Marie's number." I spat that hard, hoping to derail his original thoughts.

Another bark of laughter shot from the speaker. "My mom? Why? You screw up already? Because I can promise you, she'll help, but if you fucked up real bad, she'll feed you to Stein."

His mom? I was trapped, mouth half gaping. As in Marie is his mom, Shelley isn't her sister even with the 'sissy' stuff, and- and I have no fucking idea about her mother? She's only mentioned her that one time but I guess I just assumed- ugh, fuck me! Maybe I did fuck up. "I just want to ask her something. That's all."

A thoughtful hum buzzed like a fly in my ear. "I guess I could help you out…"

"Call it payment for the beers," I grumbled.

Another cackle, but this one at least ended with a pleasant hum instead of that abrasive bray. "OK, sounds good, Mr. Cool. I'll text it to you in a sec. But seriously, dude, congrats. Seems like she might have finally got a good catch for once."

The line clicked dead before I could reply, leaving me sighing into empty space before turning my attention back to Viv while my hand fell back to my side. She hadn't even caught any of it, her fingers still flying across the keys with those thoughtful wrinkles disturbing the space between her eyebrows. I waited, either for the buzz in my hand or Viv's next feverish thought. The interruption in my palm came first, a text blaring Marie's number across the front. "Here." I motioned the screen towards her.

Viv finally broke from her computer to look, carefully clacking the numbers in on the keyboard. "Marie? Is that her mother?"

"No," I corrected even though my own brain wasn't fully wrapped around that one. "It's sorta her aunt. Her best friend's mom."

"OK." She heaved a sigh. "I can't believe no one would do this for her." It was a protective little grumble under her breath, one I barely caught since all of her focus was back on the task at hand.

"Uh, hey, before I lose you-" I tentatively touched her shoulder, finally breaking the spell.

Viv's neck craned again, her smile reassuring as it ever was, always urging me to spill my guts.

"Listen, about that job-"

She just about exploded with an instant puffing jump of her shoulders. "You mean I can give him your information? Really?"

"As long as you're just asking for an interview." I couldn't stop the air from trembling on its way out. "Don't tell your friend he has to or anything, just-"

"No, no, it's just a meeting!" She tossed up innocent hands before letting them reach for me, stealing both of mine that were obviously sweat-ladened. "Just an opportunity that I really thought fit you, Soul. That's all. But I can? You'll let me?"

"Yeah." I nodded as if the word needed accompaniment. For a second, the burn came back to my eyes. "I sorta- well, I want to be able to have more time and the pay's probably enough that I don't have to have a second job, so…" I want more time for her, for Jack, for a regular life. I'll swallow whatever fear I've got to be able to give her that. "You can go ahead."

Man, when she wanted to, Viv could suddenly transform from petite poetess to college linebacker just in time to squeeze most of the life out of you in a hug meant to keep all of your wayward pieces together. I remember the first time I got one of those and completely lost my shit, entirely unsure of how the hell to navigate someone loving you because they could rather than because they had to--if you really wanna call something like that love at all. At that moment, it was easier. Maybe I couldn't breathe--because damn could those little arms kill--but at least I felt whole. Scared, anxious, but entirely complete.


With excessive Reggie artwork in hand--forget just one card, think closer to a dozen--I knocked on Maka's door. I tried to not ruffle Reggie's papers in the wait while my free fingers anxiously tapped against my leg. The nervousness didn't dissipate, even as the door opened and her bright smile greeted me. "You know you're really early."

"Uh, yeah…" I brandished the gift first. "Reggie made some stuff for you and I sorta wanted to talk to you about what I said to Viv today."

She took Reggie's offering before sweeping me into the apartment.

I had written this spiel over and over in my head on the way over, but my brain and my mouth rarely agreed which left the stupidest sentence I could think of spewing from my mouth as soon as I was inside: "Do you have baby stuff?"

The door shut, followed by a lengthy sigh. "Sort of?" She walked past me towards the bedroom and I followed. Once inside, she reverently placed Reggie's art on the desk before moving to slide the closet door open, exposing boxes peeking out from the bottom below the hemlines of her clothes. "Papa bought me a few things, Marie too, but I…" Maka hesitated, easing the door back and forth a little on the track. "I know how this is supposed to go but I just couldn't," she murmured.

I had to force slow and gentle since my need at that moment was just to crush her with all the feelings I couldn't get off my tongue. My arms carefully slid around her shoulders, bringing her back to my chest. "Well, Viv's on the warpath. She wants to give you a shower and all that other stuff, but if you don't want it, if it hurts you, just tell me and I'll get her to back off."

In absolute fucking sweetness, she tilted her head back to look up at me with the start of a smile. "That's sweet of her."

"Yeah, she doesn't know when to quit." I tried to smile but couldn't uncurl the wrinkle of concern in my eyebrows. "But do you want that? If it's too much-"

"No." Her hands caressed the swell of her stomach before lifting to latch onto my arms. "It's sweet and… it's time. I can't pretend like he's not coming and, honestly, I don't need to anymore."

I could finally exhale as my eyes lingered over the boxes. "You should call her. And Marie. I sorta got her number from Blake so you might want to warn her that Viv's about to wrangle her into the shower of a lifetime."

"You asked Blake?" I turned my gaze just in time to see her eyebrows raise.

"The guy texts me like I'm a beer delivery service," I grunted in reply.

That raise turned into a roll as Maka sighed. "And here I thought, maybe, just for a second, he was learning to play nicely with others."

I couldn't help but chuckle and at the same time, I dropped one of my hands. I knew it was too early to be bypassing the asking, but I settled my hand on the swell all the same. Instantly, hers was over mine and ice gripped my heart. "Sorry-"

"He's over here today." She slid my hand further to the right, under the curve rather than just over it. "That's where his foot is. But you do know he's poking my guts every time you do that…"

There wasn't an ounce of sternness to her voice but I hid my face in shame against her neck all the same. "Sorry," I murmured the echo against her skin.

Something between a sigh and a hum buzzed up from her as she played with my fingers. "I think I'll take whatever organ punches just so I can keep believing that you… I don't know how to put it without sounding cruel." The sigh from her moved my fingers just as much as one of Jack's kicks. "Maybe… I just want to hope you look forward to seeing him as much as I do."

"'Course I do." I couldn't help but let it be an admonishment because damn it, she needed to get it through her thick skull. "I meant what I said: I'm here for you and him." Maka sank into me, letting me carry the weight of her for a few minutes as only the thrum of my heart in my ears filled the time. Cruel… I let that word ring in my head until it settled all the way down to my soul. "When you say cruel, you mean saying he ain't mine?"

Her sigh was all I needed for an answer.

"How about…" There was a weakness floating into that murmur that sprung straight out of that rip that I carried around in my heart. "You're always gonna be his mother and I can't change whatever Brian is." I wasn't exactly proud of the bit of growl there but I couldn't help it. "But I wonder if you could promise me something."

"What?" She turned, letting my hands slide along to her hips as she still refused to detach from me.

"Let me try," I murmured hoarsely as I locked eyes with her. "I know I don't get to just be something to Jack or say that I am just because I'm with you. What I hope is that you can at least keep it in your mind that I'm trying. That maybe it ain't that I'm not, maybe it's just not yet." Saying that alone was a knife in the guts--half from my own fear but also that stupid intangible wound that I carried around. The pain made me lose my flow, the rest of what resounded in my mind dead on my lips: I want to have all the love I can get. I want to give all the love I can. And maybe--oh, fucking maybe--I think I can do that if you're with me. If we're doing this together.

She balanced on tip-toe to brush a delicately healing kiss on my lips. After she was flat-footed again, Maka brought her hands to my cheeks, stroking even more lovingly to skin and nerves that lit under her fingers. "That's an easy promise, Soul."

Chapter 12: Waiting

Chapter Text

The mirror had been my nemesis for six months--at least. Realistically, we never had all that great of a relationship since puberty, but the addition of Jack had fanned those feelings to a furious flame. Standing in my underwear, I could see the stretch marks. I could see the dark line that split me from my belly button down to my panties. I could see the damn rash that wouldn't go away on my right hip. These were all things I couldn't hide, couldn't change, but still couldn't accept were part of me.

They were all things that I didn't want Soul to see.

They were all things that I couldn't let Soul see.

But where did that leave me? Celibate until Jack was evicted and maybe some of these went away? Or did I expect our nights together--whenever I had the nerve to actually make them more than almost platonic cuddling--would only happen in the pitch black where there was no chance of him even getting a hint about what my body might actually look like? It was a joke to think he couldn't guess- didn't know I wasn't some behemoth.

Even worse, sex with Brian had never been all that experimental and missionary wasn't exactly something I could even do right now. I assumed there were positions pregnant women could- ugh! Even getting on that train of thought only offered me the worst reply: As if he'd want to.

The rational part of my mind was bucking: Talk to him!

The lovely, irrational and mostly hormonal side was withering: How long before he'll move on to someone who can give him what he needs?

With a desperate breath, I collapsed back on the bed and picked up my phone.

"Hey, honey!" Marie's voice always has this quality that instantly lifts you and while I was still sunken into the bed, it did at least raise the corners of my lips.

"Hi. Are you busy?"

"Well, Shelley is currently playing that penguin and ice game with her brother, so I have at least five minutes before one of them is crying."

"I don't cry!" Blake bellowed somewhere in the background.

Marie snickered as I heard movement in the background. "Alright, I'm on the deck, so no interruptions."

"Um…" The sound warbled in my throat, the pin-pricks of tears starting without much provocation. I swerved away from my original thought, offering the one that might actually keep my cheeks unmarred. "Soul's sister-in-law, Viv, is going to call you. She wants to throw a shower."

"I thought you didn't want that." Marie sighed. "Don't let someone else pressure you into-"

"No, Marie, it's OK." I let my hand rest on Jack, feeling the ghost of Soul's fingers underneath. "I-I change my mind because… I'm not scared of this anymore. And maybe it'd be nice--really nice--to have the chance to actually celebrate. At first, I was afraid to but now…"

Her hum came along with a grumble. "The second this upsets you-"

"You can shut it down-" I laughed softly "-but for right now, help Viv, please. She's actually really sweet. I'm glad the two of you will be able to meet and get to know each other."

"Am I inviting your father?"

The question struck me like a whip, leaving my mouth slightly agape. "Men don't usually come to showers, do they?" I croaked back the first excuse I could think of.

"You and I both know your shower would have to be co-ed. Blake won't stomach anything different and I'm pretty sure even Franken would complain. And maybe your boyfriend wants to come?"

It was utterly stupid, but even when Brian held that moniker, I never blushed to hear it. It was a title that men received and that was all, but Soul- my boyfriend! I couldn't stop the color from creeping up my cheeks. Blame it on the pregnancy hormones all you want, but… it feels special, doesn't it? Different?

Jack kicked to punctuate the thought.

OK, baby, I hear you loud and clear. "It'd be nice if he could be there."

"Sans-Papa?"

I blew air through my lips, trying to let the buzz bring some kind of thought forward but only getting the panic I couldn't avoid: "Is Papa going to kill him?"

Marie snorted through a few laughs. "Well, Spirit's sorta still punchdrunk over the pregnancy, so there's a chance that he could be a little zen…?" The snickering interrupted again, clearly not adopting an ounce of my worry. "You can't separate them for the rest of both of their existences, Maka. They have to meet."

"They sorta did already," I grumbled.

I should have known better than to even try, as Marie came back swinging instantly. "And you clearly told Spirit that this was your boyfriend and the man who's going to help you raise your child?"

"It was before all that," I groaned. "Please, please, please, Marie, can't you just tell him?"

"Oh, I can tell him about your boyfriend, but that doesn't change the fact that he's going to be Spirit about it." She let out a twittering sigh. "But maybe we should give Spirit just a little more credit than that. We're talking about a guy stepping up to be a father when he doesn't have to. Even your histrionic, over-protective dad will give that the respect it deserves."

My stomach looped in on itself and there was no blaming Jack. "About that, Marie…"

All giggling ceased and nothing but gentleness graced the line. "Yes, honey?"

"Is that really OK?" I couldn't get through the whole question without the hiccup of a sob, my eyes leaking right on cue. "Jack's not his responsibility."

"I shouldn't have said it like that-" she struck again with all the severity of a hammer "-because, from the sound of it, it has nothing to do with what he does or doesn't have to do."

"He wants to," I murmured back the answer that I already knew.

"It's obvious he made a choice, Maka, and you have to let him." She threw out another weary sigh. "Even Blake makes it seem like Soul's married to you already, and you know him: dense as it comes about romance."

The pink climbed all the way to my ears as I fanned a hand over my face. "Don't even use that word, Marie!"

Another annoying snort hit the line before Marie forced her throat clear. "Listen, honey. I know limited things about this boy- man, obviously, but why don't you trust yourself? I know Brian made it hard, but I think it's time you listened to your own voice again. If Soul's what you want, then enjoy it. Let him pump the brakes if he needs to, but go at the speed you want to otherwise."

My speed? What the hell was my speed anymore? Oh, Death, wasn't that the question! I hate to keep bringing Brian into the conversation, but after all of college together, he was really the only speed I actually remembered. And let's not bring up most of my failed--or nonexistent--high school dating. Divorce, desertion, and death had sort of put a damper on that, so Brian had been what I thought my speed was.

But what if this giddy feeling, this want, this need was more than just a rush of hormones thanks to Jack? For a short, sweet second, I took my hand away from the swell and let it rest over my heart. At that moment, I finally let that thought come to the forefront: What if this is what love should really feel like?


I forced myself to knock on his door before the sixth outfit change. I couldn't keep cycling and fighting with my reflection or else the blush I was currently wearing would have been the burn of tears instead. It wasn't as if I didn't have the clothes to continue through the horrible revolutions, especially since just the day before Viv had dragged me through maternity section after maternity section. The excuse had been "professional" wear, but here I was with a fairly deep V in this wrap dress and since pregnancy had done wonders for my breasts, well… Let's just say that this was a far cry from the t-shirt and sweats that I usually mucked around in.

On that thought, I was just about to ditch since my courage was slowly fizzling at the sight of my cleavage when I heard the click of his lock. OK, Soul, please, please, please just-

"Hey." His smirk was radiant and- oh, Death, he just had to be sweeping his hair back at the same time! Such a stupidly casual motion that still somehow made my heart forget its tempo. "Now you're early. I-" Suddenly, all of that Mr. Cool dropped from him and his cheeks started to flush almost as red as his eyes.

"What is it?" I stared at him long enough to follow his glance, falling right to the cleft left wide open by the silky fabric. Oh, Death, he's looking at me? As soon as I risked moving my attention back to his face his eyes were glued to mine. "Soul-"

"Ha-" It wasn't a laugh but an entirely panicked exhale and somehow he'd added a healthy pink to the edges of his red. "Y-you look beautiful." The last word cracked and sputtered-

-and instantly flicked some kind of switch in my brain. He means that. He means that more than anything because he's dying of nerves. Look at him. He's absolutely a mess and- and it's absolutely the most precious thing. It wasn't just his voice but I swear I could feel it waving off of him. Every last bit of him was filtering through any facade he was trying to hold. "Thank you." I reached to rest my palms against the smooth fabric of his dress shirt so I could push him a few steps into the apartment.

Soul was tripping over his own feet, knees half buckling as his throat bobbed through a swallow.

So cute! I wanted to squeal but was able to smooth it out to a smile. "Are you ready?"

"Uh- y-yeah." The click of his swallow was audible. "Just give me a-a minute." He was trying to backpedal a little further but each step he took was absolutely overcome by my own.

No, I won't. I hid the deviousness in my smile by tilting it closer to him, leaning on tip-toe so my lips could meet his. Kissing him always felt necessary, like pulling in breath- like my body would ache and wither if I went long enough without it. Death, I know that sounds dramatic--and here we go, let's blame a little bit of it on hormones--but it was the truth I was living. Because there was a certain taste to him, a particularly euphoric mix of his own hopes and desires from all the words he always left on his tongue that was sweeter than honeysuckle dew.

"Maka…" For a fleeting moment, I thought he was going to stop me as he whispered that while I caught some air but trembling fingers feathered along my neck instead. His thumb drew a line down to my collarbone, creating goosebumps along the way. Just as a heated sigh started to escape from my mouth, he caught it with his own. After a few desperate latches, his hand finally pushed down, forcing me to flat feet. "I-I really need a minute," he whispered hoarsely.

I released him, allowing him to make shaky, stumbling steps towards the reprieve of his bedroom. The door clapped shut but it didn't matter. All of it was just temporary barriers because I was going to listen to Marie. I was going back to the old Maka, the one with trust, courage, who jumped instead of hid. And that Maka was pretty sure she just caught Soul Evans wanting her.


Stealing glances seemed to be all Soul could do as his tongue stayed tied on the way to the restaurant. His hand was definitely glued to mine with desperately intertwined fingers that were only slightly tainted with nervous boyish sweat that I could still easily ignore. Nothing so far could tarnish the joy that was starting to blossom, especially with each bit of anxiously sweet bumbling he managed on the way.

His steps started to slow as we approached high glass windows, tinted so that the inside was obscured. "Before we go in…" He nodded towards the doors we were still a few steps from. "I-I told you, we ain't a secret, so Liz and Tsubaki know about you and about…" Soul was careful to reach but not touch, fingers just grazing the air in front of the swell of my stomach.

"Really?" I couldn't bite back the surprise especially as my eyebrows betrayed me.

Even with that dopey, love-drunk softness to his face, his glare hardened momentarily. "Only reason I didn't tell 'em right away was because before it wasn't my business. When I figured that this- that being together was where I was hoping we'd end up I told 'em because it ain't anything to be ashamed of."

I nodded as my smile started to blossom. "Not a mistake."

He sucked his teeth, glare fading so he could roll his eyes. "That shouldn't even be part of the conversation anymore, Maka. All I'm trying to say is I want you to have fun tonight, so if you were thinking about-"

"I'm not-" I tugged at his hand, bringing him a step closer "-so don't be such a worry-wart." I tilted my chin up, letting my eyes go half-lidded so I could still catch a glimpse of the blush on his cheeks.

Soul cleared his throat and fiddled with my fingers nervously.

"Soul, this is the part where you kiss me."

"After you call me names like that?" he grumbled.

"Especially after that."

He huffed, but after one more revolution of his thumb over my knuckles, his lips gently brushed mine.

"I'm only thinking about you," I murmured and opened my eyes just in time to see the fireworks on his face, the added color on every inch as his mouth gaped in sweet dumbfoundedness. Yes, Soul, you. I'm trying to make this as clear for you as I can so hopefully that'll be the last time it surprises you. "Can we go in now?"

"Yeah…" His free hand was trying to rub away the color until we reached the door. He opened it for me, only letting go of my hand to wave me in. The lobby was full of the early evening bustle which would have swallowed me if it hadn't been for Soul's quick hand at the small of my back, twisting me out of a stampede of suited people. "I swear the bar's a little quieter," he muttered, dipping his face close enough so it found my ear instead of getting lost in the tumultuous fluttering.

"Good evening, Mr. Evans!"

I looked towards the tall, lanky blonde at the podium just before the entrance and then quickly back at Soul, catching a wisp of his eye roll. "Maka, this is Liz."

She excitedly fluttered her fingers in my direction. "Glad Mr. Evans could finally come accompanied."

We'd made it close enough that he could attempt to lean menacingly against the hostess stand. "I swear if you call me that again-"

Liz slapped his threatening finger right out of the air with a mile-wide smirk. "And you kissed her right in front of the window! You lil' Romeo!" With all the practice of an older sister, she pinched at his cheek, forcing Soul to stutter backward in an effort to escape the inescapable. He was trapped and turning redder by the minute.

"I think Romeo's a bad comparison-" I interrupted with a giggle as my hand balanced him at the elbow "-since I don't think Soul's dramatic enough. Blake would make a good Mercutio though…"

With my steady hand, Soul slipped out of her clutches, turning a smirk back to me. "You're not speaking our language, bookworm. Liz thinks the only Romeo out there was DiCaprio."

"As if you know any other Romeos," I teased as I leaned into him.

He caught me around the waist, pulling me closer so he could murmur with way too much satisfaction: "Leonard Whiting."

"Wow, OK you two-" Liz's voice cut in, making us both jump. "Let's get you to dinner before you just start undressing here…" She turned away just in time to only catch Soul's dissatisfied grunt.

His cheeks had pinked again--Death, hopefully he was getting enough blood flow to his brain with how much was being stolen for his face. Instead of giving me time to examine, Soul was guiding me along, following Liz through your everyday swanky hotel bar. They had gone the traditional direction with a dark wood bar that was still polished to a perfect sheen. Tables dotted what was left of the floor but we were passing them and working our way towards the patio. Those windows had been left untinted but were framed with a lovely climb of ivy.

Liz pressed open the door, letting the pleasant night breeze back on my skin. I snuck a glance at Soul, seeing that same satisfaction flutter across his features. "Let me guess, best seat in the house?"

"Depends on who you ask." Soul shrugged off what could have been a compliment. "Quietest," he corrected.

Even at first glance that seemed to be the truth as our final destination was the furthest table from the door. It was tucked against a lower brick wall, tall enough to rest your elbow without encroaching on the view of the pristinely kept but tiny garden below.

"Your table, Mr. Evans," Liz chimed joyfully with that Vanna White sweep of her hand.

Soul saved his breath for a sigh, lobbing in Liz's direction without anything biting to back it up. Instead, he instantly moved his attention to me, pulling out my chair before I got the chance. "Since when did you get so proper?" I grinned as I slipped into my seat, letting him fiddle until I was perfectly arranged next to the table.

"Well, apparently I'm Mr. Evans so-" He shot a quick glare at Liz who only gave him a bright smile in return.

"Tsubaki will be your waitress tonight. Please enjoy." Soul just narrowly dodged the hair ruffle that was supposed to come with that, earning him a chorus of giggles as Liz slinked away.

He heaved a sigh before moving to his side of the table and slumping into the chair without any of the ceremony of my seating. "Sorry about that."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Mr. Evans."

He gruffly laughed before narrowing his eyes at me. "You sure are trouble tonight."

"And the evening's just getting started," I chimed back through as brilliant a smile as I had in my repertoire. While that did bring a little color back to his face, he seemed to have it better under control, leaving me only that smirk to fawn over. "So Liz likes to tease you."

"Loves," he corrected.

"What about Tsubaki?"

"You're about to find out…" He nodded his chin towards the doors as another woman, still tall but with more of an hourglass shape, entered. Her dark hair was pulled high in a ponytail and while her smile spoke instantly of understanding and gentleness. They really did seem like a perfect foil for one another, the light and the dark.

"Hi!" Some of the serenity melted from her face as bubbliness burst into her voice. "You must be Maka. It's so nice to meet you! Soul has told us so much- or, well, not anything too much, I swear, just-" Her eyes darted towards his, glancing over the ever-present grumpiness Soul was trying to exude.

While he kept something close to a frown for a second, it lost the battle to another grin. "S'alright, she knows I told you about the baby."

The swivel was instantaneous and suddenly my hands were gathered up off the table and in hers. "Congratulations! I hope you don't mind but I did make you something and I'll give it to you before you leave. But for right now-" she quickly released me and melted back into her role "-would you like something to drink?"

Another bit of exasperated air shot from his mouth. "Tsu, you didn't have to-"

"I can't help it!" She tried to make that a hiss in his direction but her excitement had taken hold of it, and it easily reached across the table.

"Um-" I interrupted what I assumed was going to be more frustration between the two "-it's very nice of you. Maybe you should hold on to it though- for the shower."

Soul's eyebrows lost all control, slamming up to his hairline.

"Your shower?" Tsu entirely dropped the waitress act again as her face blossomed with the warmth that came from her voice. "You mean Liz and I could come?"

"I don't see why not…" I risked a glance at Soul, finding him still stuck somewhere in shock. "You're Soul's closest friends, aren't you? And he's part of this now, too."

The break in the floodgates was instantaneous as Tsu turned on her heels and grabbed at Soul. His features fell into further disarray as she hugged him tightly around the neck and stole at least ten heartbeats worth of air. It took that long before she snapped out of the excitement, straightening before fixing the wrinkles she'd put into the shoulder of his shirt. "If that's alright with you, Soul."

"Yeah." His murmured answer still came with that airy lack of breath.

She hummed out sweet satisfaction before she settled back into her role. "So, drinks?"

"Water for me."

He nodded along as he leaned back in the chair. "Same."

"Be back in a second!" Tsu chimed before turning on her heels.

"You can have a beer if you want." I let my hands settle on my stomach as I laughed softly. "Just because I can't drink-"

"Not a big deal," he cut in with a shrug. "Beer's sorta for loneliness. This ain't lonely."

A prideful little buzz started in my chest, especially as his smirk grew.

"Hey, you…" Instead of that easy slant backward, he slid his elbow onto the table to rest his cheek on. The lean had brought him to the halfway point of the table, leaving his next words just between us. "You mean that? You want Tsu and Liz there? You just met 'em and… well…"

"Was I wrong?" I mimicked his closeness, letting my hand drift across the table close to his elbow just to be caught by his free hand. "They're your friends, aren't they?"

He nodded as if the answer was barely his to give. "But Viv's already-"

"Promise me something," I interrupted with a squeeze of his hand.

His brows furrowed.

"You told me to let you try-" I tried all the firmness in my voice that I could muster but the tears that came without warning made it warble "-so I want you to accept when I do. The first time. No convincing."

There was a pinch of dreaminess to his sigh as the wrinkles in his forehead released. "That's a tall fucking order."

"So you're not going to promise?"

In the tangle of our hands, he maneuvered to hook his pinky with mine. "No convincing. My friends, my family can go."

"And you," I added firmly and watched the shock flood back over his face. "You honestly didn't think Blake would let me have a girls-only shower, did you?"

He chuckled, leaving my stomach fluttering in between Jack's kicks. "Should've guessed. Alright, but I ain't in charge of the beer."

My giggles were interrupted by Tsu's quick return to place menus in front of us. "Sorry, in all the excitement, I actually forgot!" Her own laughs twittered as she turned over our glasses and used the pitcher she'd brought to fill them. "Soul knows the specials, but do you want to hear them anyway?"

"Let's give him a break." I squeezed his hand again but let my eyes stay on Tsu. "Tonight he's Mr. Evans after all."


It wasn't a fair memory to relive, but my first date with Brian snuck into the back of my mind. I had always assumed that nervousness didn't exist for him- that part of his brain having been written over by intellect and sophistication. He challenged me all night with his own bookish knowledge, forcing near arguments on philosophy and history- his favorites. I thought that was what I wanted--bravado and brilliance--and I thought the anxiousness in my heart every time we met after were those first flutterings of love.

But while this was our first official date, if I looked back at the track record for Soul, it was completely different. Mr. Cool had been the entirely wrong name for him. Well, maybe not- sometimes he had that accidental suaveness, the adorable bit of surprise at his own ability to bring a smile to my face or a laugh to my lips. Most of the time, cool wasn't his capability- just overthinking and worry that led to enough melancholy to drown him. The anxiousness I had for him was entirely different. It was this overwhelming desire to heal, to be with him in whatever way he'd let me.

As far as first dates went, the two weren't even up for comparison.

I was still challenged, but in a way that felt like a chess match instead of a battle.

I was still waiting for his every touch, every look, but not because I needed to calculate his wants and needs first but because I just wanted them.

I still felt those flutters, and never so deeply as when he offered me his hand and said, "If you're not too tired, I sorta… I thought it'd be nice to play for you on a real piano this time."

Even if I had been tired, he'd be more likely to get me to admit nuclear launch codes. "I-I'd love that." It was my turn to tumble into a bumbling mess, my cheeks pinking as he smiled down at me.

"C'mon."

I took his hand and we started back towards the main dining room. Tsu was nowhere to be found on the floor until we ventured back towards the hostess stand, seeing her whispering away with Liz. "Piano's all ready for you, Mr. Evans."

Soul graced her with one more extravagant eye roll before tugging me along, leaving the two girls giggling behind us. It was a short walk to an alcove off the lobby that was lined with windows, the piano the distinctive centerpiece of the room. Formations of couches and chairs sat between it and the windows, waiting for a concert to accompany the view of the continuation of the petite garden outside. He led me to the bench without a word, depositing me on the left as he slid onto the right side.

"It's just a parlor grand-" he murmured as if I knew what he was talking about "-but it's better than that old keyboard. Still can't say the song's any better…"

"Stop that and play," I whispered as I laid my head on his shoulder.

His muscles flexed tightly for a moment before they unwound with his sigh. Maybe the euphoria was part piano--he definitely wasn't wrong when he said the sound would change--but having one ear to him and his pulse seemed to drive an extra sweetness into my song. I could listen to it and to him forever, but just as I was settling in, ready to nuzzle even closer and hope it didn't interrupt his fingers, a blonde head bobbed into view.

A bray of a laugh cut through the next note, made even worse by the fact that Soul paused, his eyes darting from the keys to the man now leaning on the side of the piano.

"I overheard the girls saying that you had a date, but damn, man!" The man with his chef's jacket slightly undone was leaning a little further, trying to catch a better view of me.

"Hiro-" Soul started, but the man obviously didn't have time to be derailed by his name.

To make matters worse, I saw exactly where his eyes rested as his jaw dropped. "Holy shit! And she's pregnant? Man, I knew you were quiet, but-"

"Don't you have to get to the fucking kitchen?" Soul hissed.

Hiro shrugged before pulling out a cigarette from behind his ear to brandish at us. "Guess you're going back to the Evans' fortune then, huh? Can't support a kid on tips."

Evans fortune? The question only amplified as Soul's face twisted, his eyes burning like coals. Those sweet lips were contorting further and just as he was about to snap I put my hand over his. "Hiro, was it?"

"Oh, yeah, where're my manners!" Hiro extended a hand to me. "Assistant Executive Chef Hiro."

My eyes momentarily dipped to his hand before leaving mine entwined with Soul's to gaze back at him. "Oh, I wasn't worried about where your manners had gone-" I sent him a glowing smile "-especially since it's obvious you have none. Right now, I'm trying to enjoy time with my boyfriend, not be part of some spectacle for you. Maybe the idea of a date is out of your repertoire, so let me explain." I let go of Soul's hand momentarily to signal between the two of us. "We're together, having a nice time, which means you should not be in the general vicinity, no matter how much you want to butt in and get a view of his pregnant girlfriend. I'm going to suggest that in the future, if you ever want one of those for yourself, you'll walk away now before I make sure that's never possible. Though, your personality might be enough on its own."

Soul's only contribution was a hearty chuckle as the color drained from Hiro's face.

"Well?" I offered as I raised my eyebrows.

The blonde man took a step back, trying one last glance at Soul before slinking away.

Soul tipped his head over his shoulder--most likely watching the man leave--before he turned his attention back to me with a long whistle. "You really gave it to him."

I huffed. "Sorry, that's just my song and-"

"Nothing to be sorry about-" the way his smirk punctuated that made my heart climb into my throat "-especially since I like that about you." He leaned a little closer, his lips daring to brush my cheek. "You're really beautiful when you refuse to take shit from anybody." His laugh sprung even more life into the heat he'd left behind in his kiss. "Though I sorta want to know when that started being your song." The whisper was playful but still quaked a little at the end as he pulled away to show eyes that really urged that request to life.

I cleared my throat, trying to uncover that courage again as I let my hand drift back into his. "Well, I had to take it since you kept making fun of it. It's a perfect song and I was tired of you putting it down."

He snorted a laugh as he squeezed my hand. "What if it's our song?" One more sweet press of fingers and he was untangling them, bringing the keys back to life with those sweet notes. "Because I started, but you, Maka, you definitely finished it."


The walk back to the apartment was slow, partially because of my swollen ankles reminding me that pregnant women weren't made for long-distance. The night air was perfectly cool with just enough breeze that I needed to be cradled under his arm to give me a little extra warmth. "You got work early tomorrow?"

"Same time as I always do…" I teased, squeezing my hand at his waist as I saw color on his cheeks even in the weakness of the streetlights. I was beginning to break his codes- the way it was almost impossible for that straightforward ask. "Did you want to stay tonight?"

"Don't want it to get in the way of your rest," he murmured as his eyes only briefly met mine before concentrating on the road ahead.

"You haven't done that so far."

That didn't bring any more argument from him, but there was no sly grin, no humor to accompany it and as we reached the apartment and started for the elevator, he stayed quiet. There was no relinquishing his hold on me, but that silence had started to wheedle its way into my heart, creating a fluttering nervousness that wasn't accompanying that feeling of love but fostering fear. The ding and the opening of the doors brought us to what suddenly felt like a crossroads as he stretched the length of my arm. "I'll go get changed and then-"

"Wait." I tugged our connected hands, getting him a step closer to my door. Patient concern was crinkling his eyebrows but I reached for the door instead, putting in my key and unlocking it. Again I pulled, urging him a few steps into the apartment.

"Not brushing my teeth before bed'll give me cavities-" his joke twittered from his lips, hitting a high note as I invaded his space. "Maka, I-"

I lifted our connected hand, putting it back to that spot along my neck where his thumb had rubbed a burning line on my collarbone only hours before. Whatever else he had to say melted into a sigh, one that I caught with my lips. His fingers spread, smoothing over skin that sang underneath them as they glided under the neckline of my dress as they ran along towards my shoulder. The pressure slid off one of my bra straps, making me shudder. That minute motion spurred action in him as he forced me a few steps back, his body bending into mine just as his other hand caught my other shoulder. While I had been expecting the other strap to fall, he instead pinned me back, forcing space between our mouths even if he didn't dare break any other connection.

"I-I need you to…" he let out a desperate sigh "... just wait a little bit longer, please."

"What?" Oh, Death, how all of that wanted to flood me, to drive me to run but I was motionless, blocked by him and his stare as I caught his eyes.

"I want to-" his murmur seemed to start and stop in his throat, caught on so many words he couldn't shape "-but I-I'm not ready. I know I'm not, and I don't want to ruin-"

I pressed a finger to his lips as I let what he could say make a home in my heart. It's not me. It's not something to do with me. He's scared. Something else is there and he's scared. "I'll wait. And you're not ruining anything." I don't think I'd ever heard a breath more filled with relief, or felt fingers so hungry for the comfort that he pulled out of hugging me closer. I'd wait forever for you.

Chapter 13: A Shadow

Notes:

tw: insinuations of domestic abuse

feel free to flame me since I did promise smooth sailing from here but there I went and threw in drama.

Chapter Text

This was normally that terrible limbo time that I hated: when you'd woken with just enough time before your alarm that you couldn't really go back to sleep, but it wasn't close enough to warrant leaving the comfort of the covers. My reprieve from the horrors of this dilemma was the face in front of me.

Soul's mouth was slightly slack, soft puffs of sleep-slowed breath fluttering over his lips. At some point during the night, my heat flashes had separated us, but his hand was still reaching for me, fingers just tickling my arm as he tried to overcome the pillow between us. He was entirely cherishable at that moment, so sweetly comfortable as he rested within my reach.

What happened to you?

I hadn't had the nerve to ask the question, once again finding him on that cusp of breaking- so tightly wound that another push would make him crumble. I'd honestly never met anyone so aloof, so steady in the face of everything else but entirely fragile in the hands of people he trusts. Or at least I hope you trust me- hope you will trust me with this sometime soon. With carrying part of your weight just like you've been carrying what feels like the majority of mine.

At least there had been no fuss- no fight last night when I offered the space next to mine. He'd clung to me in absolute silence, fear leaching from his skin to mine as he almost refused to unwind. It hadn't been until I started whispering quietly to him--telling him useless little stories about the childhood escapades of Blake "STAR" and his designated side-kick who refused to be a side-kick Maka Albarn--that his grip loosened and his breathing steadied. I was really hoping when he opened his eyes, that part of him would still be solid.

My eyes ticked woefully towards the clock. Only a few more minutes remained of examining the easiness sleep had brought to him. I wished I could have trapped it for him in his heart. "Soul," I murmured softly, stealing away the alarm's chance to ruin his tranquility.

He groaned as he slid his face closer to the pillow. "No…"

I giggled as I reached for him, flexing my fingers lovingly into his bed-mussed hair. "I saved you from the alarm, but it's still going to go off in a minute."

His arm ripped from the covers and awkwardly stretched behind him, slapping the snooze button.

"That doesn't work if it's not going off."

"Don't know why you use that thing," he half muttered into the pillow. "Most people use their phone."

"Nostalgia?" I offered, but that just made him groan again. I shifted, pushing enough on my elbow that I could prop up on my giant pillow. It gave me enough leverage to reach around him and unset the alarm just before it could blare to life.

Now without a job, his arm slipped back over the sheets to meet me, his hand resting hesitantly on my hip. His face had slid out from hiding, eyes blinking up an unclear message at me. "How are you feeling?"

I should ask you that--or really, I don't think that's what you want to ask at all. I tried my best to settle against the headboard to avoid moving away. The extra beat of silence before my answer urged his fingers, making them drift lightly over my side. "Mostly happy," I murmured as I brought my hand to his cheek, watching as that spurred his eyes to shut again. "Last night was perfect."

He heaved a sigh.

Even though it wasn't exactly the most comfortable maneuver for my back, I leaned towards him so I could brush a kiss on his forehead. "It's the song all over again, Soul-" my whisper came with a sweet chiding lilt. "Because I'm going to firmly say that I'm happy with it even if you're not."

He settled into another shaky breath. "You said mostly."

"I'm worried about you," I answered quickly.

"I'm-" Red eyes blinked open again to meet mine.

Don't lie to me, I urged back with every iota of my being.

"-I'm something," he muttered before his hands turned needy to pull me back into the bedding with him. Jack was amply in the way but Soul continued to negotiate the destruction of the space between us. His uneasy breath was tickling at my neck, threatening pleasant chills up and down my spine if it weren't for the heartache that saturated his words: "I guess what I really am is sorry."

"I don't want you to be." My hands roamed through his hair and around his shoulders as I tried to pass the surety of my words into each touch. "I'd rather you be happy too."

His fingers tightened ever so slightly. "I am- like this."


I absolutely hate to make this comparison, but Death, did he look like the sweetest, lost little boy as he arrived on my doorstep in his pajamas with his pillow tucked under his arm! Maybe it was the absolute relief of not having an actual conversation about whether or not he'd be staying again tonight and instead just those adorably pleading ruby eyes hitting me as soon as the door opened. Whatever it was, it spurred me to lift my phone and snap a picture the second after I registered every last cute thing about him.

"Hey!" He yelped as the fake shutter snap resounded between us. I tried to slink away as quickly as possible but he was on me, arms catching me around the waist so his chin could peep over my shoulder. "What're you taking a picture for?"

"Why shouldn't I take your picture?" I killed the illumination of the screen, hiding my treasure for later.

That elicited a grunt instead of a real answer.

I moved us towards the couch so that my phone had somewhere to safely land. Once unencumbered, I let my hands rest over his around my waist. "You looked cute, that's all."

"That's all?" he grumbled as he tucked his face against my neck.

"And I want a nice reminder for next week."

He stiffened slightly, his breath humming before the right words gathered. "What's next week?"

"I-I was going to go back to actual work. In the office." I drew soft circles on his forearm, toying with the hairs as goosebumps followed my touch.

"And a picture of me helps how?" The words only stopped as his lips brushed against my skin, leaving the rest of his worry stationary on his tongue.

"Reminds me what I have at home," I chirped back without a moment's hesitation. "What I have to look forward to as long as I make it through the day."

His hands were on the move, once again spelling out the sorrowful need of his to sink into me and destroy every last speck of space between us. One arm was still around my waist, fingers tensing at the swell, while the other climbed across my chest to my shoulder.

"Being with you…" I murmured to try to let these words hit him delicately even though the force that they sat with in my heart was starting to feel innumerable. "Makes me feel like I can go back. I don't care who sees me anymore--what anyone thinks. You reminded me that I'm still me."

"Good." His voice quaked before he steadied it with another kiss against the soft skin of my neck. "I'll be here when you come home from kicking ass."

He eased his grip enough that a healthy laugh could rattle from my mouth. "Well, I was thinking that means maybe you need a key since our schedules will probably be a little different now. I'll have to try to be in bed before you're even off work if I'm going to be functional--though sleeping without you is still iffy." I hoped that the flex of his arms was prideful rather than protective.

Soul didn't give me much time to wonder since surprisingly his hands drifted away, leaving me cold. I turned quickly, a little ashamed at the childish irritation that welled up in me from the separation. All of my peevishness zapped away as a nervous smile hit his lips. "Actually, I sorta… I have a job interview tomorrow for something normal, probably nine to five so…" He shrugged as his grin faltered. "Not guaranteed, obviously, but I just- I did think about this. I hope you get that."

You thought about us- glanced over my mind -but did you think about you too? Is this just another one of your sacrifices? "A job you want?"

"Well…" He displayed empty hands between us and whether or not it was his intention to ask, I grabbed them. He smiled down at our fingers. "Sorta bad at wanting that kinda stuff. Viv thinks it'd be a good fit for me though and I-I trust her. And I want-" he stuttered over that with a sigh before lifting his eyes to mine. "I promised to help, right? Can't be all that helpful if I'm at work all the time. Extra money wouldn't hurt either."

For a moment, that Hollywood movie was playing in my head. Coming home from work at the same time. Passing the baby back and forth as we finished all the nightly chores. Putting him to bed together so that we could finally collapse on the couch and be us for a little while. That perfect melody of a family.

"Hey…" he murmured as his hand left mine to come to my cheek and gather the tears I hadn't even noticed had started. "I did promise, Maka. I still mean it."

"I know," I whispered with a weak laugh. "I just… I'm really proud of you."

You would think I had slapped him in the face with the way his eyes snapped wide, his mouth popping open to gape for a second.

I followed the strange fractured emotions on his face before shaking my head in disbelief. "You don't believe me?"

He still flitted through a few more blinks in silence. "Uh, no, not that, just-" a nervous laugh broke a voice already quaking "-sorta haven't heard that in a while."

My forehead wrinkled, my lips pulling into a defensive frown. "I don't see why not. You're doing your best, Soul. I see that, and if someone else can't-"

"Down, girl," he murmured before laughing softly. His hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me close enough so that he could plant a kiss on my forehead. "Guess no one else really matters…" Those words traversed his lips in an unsteady dip as his arms continued to move to embrace me. His lips were near my ear now, his voice falling into less than a whisper. "I like that you think that way, especially about me. It-it helps."

"Helps you what?" A part of me knew I shouldn't ask- his brittleness back with a vengeance.

"Forgetting-" left him in an achingly shaky breath. "Sometimes there's too many voices in my head--not real voices, but memories. I wish-" one hand was desperately sinking into my hair while the other pulled at my waist "-I wish it could just be your voice sometimes."

"You just haven't heard me enough." I ran my palms along his back, trying to urge just as much comfort into them as the lilt of my voice. "Give it time, Soul. I promise."


I couldn't help the ridiculous crawling in my stomach at the idea of seeing Viv again. There was no loss of love--as poet or possible friend--but just that inkling of fear that we'd be different. Now I wasn't just some charity case, I was someone Soul was with. Even that nagging feeling of being an outsider intruding on their family hadn't entirely dissipated and wisps of it clung to me as I waited outside the bustling, chic baby store Viv had picked out.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Viv's joyful shout broke through my worried trance. "And we have a tag-along." She lifted her hand which was tightly clasped by Reggie's. Not just that but as soon as he caught sight of me he was half behind Viv's leg, eyebrows furrowing in sweet worry. "We're going through a phase." Viv ruffled his hair lovingly as she came to a stop in front of me. "Since we've come home, he's slowly become stitched to my hip."

I eased down on my haunches, feeling the strain from Jack's weight but finding a rewarding flash of curiosity in Reggie's face. "Well, Reggie, since you're with us today, will you please help me find all the things the baby would like? He's going to be a little boy like you."

"Jack, right?" He half murmured into his mother's pant leg.

Soul told him? That made my heart dance as a smile broke my lips. "Yes, his name's Jack. So you'll help?"

Reggie looked up expectantly at his mother. "Can I?"

"Of course you can, darling. You will be consulted on all matters from here on in." She swept her hand towards the door. "Now, will you be the little gentleman I know you are and open the door for us? Be careful if anyone is coming out."

With a square of his shoulders and a big breath, the timid little boy scooted around Viv to peer through the glass of the door. The coast was clear because he reached for the handle, pulling it open with care.

"Thank you, darling," Viv cooed as she started through the door with me in tow. She was careful to only let her hand hover near the opening, not challenging Reggie's independence as he tried to negotiate himself in after us. No fingers were crushed nor toes lost as the door closed with Reggie safely between us.

"Now, I think they'll give you one of those little scanning guns…" Viv was already entirely on a mission, guiding me through the store to an associate. She hadn't been wrong; a scanner was quickly put in our possession after a few simple instructions to start.

I immediately handed it over to Reggie with the brief caveat: "You only scan what we all agree on, alright?"

That earned me a fervent nod of approval as he brandished his new weapon.

"Oh, lord…" Viv twittered off into a laugh as she took her phone out and quickly snapped a picture. "His father is going to die." She rolled her eyes as she let the amusement take her again. "Maka, I hope you know what you're getting into. Now, Reggie, repeat Maka's directions, please."

"Only what we all say!" He lifted the scanner towards his mother as he piped proudly.

"Good ears," she murmured sweetly as she played at his earlobe, eliciting a fit of giggles from the little boy. "With that settled, all we have to do is pick!"

That started the entirely team effort of filling Jack's wishlist with each and every conceivable thing. While Reggie was quick to pick toys and clothes, Viv wouldn't allow me to forget any necessity from a list that she'd easily compiled from raising Reggie. Here and there I could add what caught my eye or spurred some kind of whim with Viv's steady smile and Reggie's joy to bolster each pick.

The more we all fell into a rhythm, the more room there was for my mind to wander and touch on that strange inkling in the periphery. There was a new kind of contentment blossoming and the more I let it settle the more I realized exactly what it was: pride.

I was proud Viv was my friend.

I was proud that I was taking control again.

I was proud my son would be born to a mother entirely out of hiding.

That sunk pleasantly right down to my bones.

"Vivienne?"

Viv whirled but I caught the change in her face just at the voice. Her eyebrows had subtly knitted, her smile turning cordial. "Esme, what a surprise…"

It seemed just as much a shock to the brunette that had paused at the end of our aisle, her dark eyes blinking in disbelief. "I-" her stare fell on me before drifting back to Viv "-ah, so your… friend is pregnant?"

"Oh, yes-" Viv motioned towards me but that hand slid protectively to the small of my back, grasping at my dress. "Maka, this is Esme Delacroix. She-she's an old family friend. Esme, this is Maka Albarn, a close friend."

I wanted to interrupt with a greeting but something about the stiffness between the two left me tongue-tied.

Esme's eyes suddenly turned to appraisal, especially once I was under Viv's hold. "Of yours?"

A breathy laugh left Viv's mouth, her smile undulating through it. "Why would I be anywhere with her if she wasn't mine, Esme? Oh, and my son, Reginald- Reggie. I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting him yet, though I'm sure your mother told you about him." On cue, the mess of raven hair popped between the two of us.

"Well, hello." Esme offered Reggie a smile and a little wave, watching with limited interest as he reciprocated the motion.

An old family friend who hasn't met Reggie? My shoulders tingled as the apprehension crinkled my muscles.

Viv bent her knees enough to scoop up Reggie's hand, quieting the movement of the scanner. "We're just here setting up Maka's registry. Are you getting a gift for someone?"

"No…" A smile stole across her lips. "Didn't your mother tell you? Clara's pregnant. Just a few last-minute things since she's about to pop!" That hated phrase came with such a twitter of a laugh. "Clara?"

I glanced at Viv just in time to watch her stiffen again.

When I looked back, another woman, her shirt stretching to rival my swell, now stood next to Esme. The family resemblance was obvious, that same brunette hair waving over her shoulders but instead of dark eyes, light hazel shot open wide with surprise. "Vivienne." It wasn't a question like her sister's had been, but much more an accusation, her glare only staying for a moment before settling on me. "Who's this?"

"A friend- Maka." Esme's coo did nothing to wipe away the bitter glare from the other woman.

Those hazel eyes took all of me in, categorizing each piece before finding me entirely lacking. She eased her attention to Viv. "How is Soul?" A sharp bit of victory punctuated that question.

Viv's lip worked between her teeth before she shook her head softly. "Clara, we both know that's none of your business."

She scoffed, but Esme was quick to put a hand on her shoulder. "We have to finish shopping anyway, Clara. Come along. It was lovely to see you, Vivienne." Reggie and I had been completely forgotten as Esme turned, that palm pressing Clara along even if her eyes stayed to stare daggers for as long as they could.

As soon as both turned the corner, Viv heaved a sigh that trailed into a pathetically breathy laugh. "I swear I'm becoming my mother. I can't go anywhere without running into someone. I'm sorry, Maka."

"That was-" I started weakly.

"Let's save that for later," Viv interrupted with a shaky smile. "Right now, I want ice cream. How does that sound, Reggie?" Reggie tugged on her hand and Viv leaned towards him, his lips right next to her ear. She popped back up quickly. "Excuse us for just a minute. Why don't you take this back to the front-" Viv took the scanner from Reggie's grip and transferred it to mine "-and after a visit to the restroom we'll meet you outside."

For once, my bladder wasn't calling me towards the same so I offered Viv a smile and started towards the front desk. It was a forlorn end especially as Viv's tension lingered through my bones. The why was in no way alien to me, and just as I started to paint that dour face into my head, standing next to Soul as some picture-perfect-

"Maka."

I'd never heard my name so grating and when I turned, those hazel eyes were nothing but fury. "I'm sorry, but it was Clara, wasn't it?" I tried to hold onto the innocence of that and leave the picture in my mind behind. Soul's with me. That's all.

"Don't act like you don't know who I am," she spat with a wave of her walnut hair. "I can't believe Vivienne would have the nerve-"

"I'm sorry, but it didn't exactly seem like you owned this place." I turned towards the door, wrapping my fingers tightly around the handle. "We're leaving anyway."

But my elbow jutted me to a stop, her grasp anchored there with perfectly pedicured pink nails. "Ringless means you couldn't have married him, so what--he'll change his mind about children if it's a bastard?"

Rage clenched its fist around my throat.

"I'm surprised he could even get it up long enough to make one," she hissed as her fingers clenched, leaving a red rawness to my skin.

The pain on my arm was nothing compared to how that lanced my heart. What did you do to him? If you could talk to me like this about him, what did you say to him? "Let go of me."

My request was utterly denied as pressure added to the ache in my skin. "What? Did you find out whatever kink he needed to get him off? I knew he must have been some kind of little freak if he couldn't-"

"I thought Viv made it absolutely clear he's none of your business, but let me repeat it. Say one more word about him-" I wretched my arm from her grasp as I spit the rest with all the venom I could produce "-and I'll give you exactly what you deserve for what you did to him!"

"What I did?" She started a harpy's shriek, but it was cut off.

I'd never heard anything but sweet--well, maybe a little scolding--from Viv, but suddenly that songbird contralto was a scratch of grit instead. "Clara!" Viv pressed Reggie towards me before snapping, "Reggie, earmuffs, please."

Reggie instantly slapped his hands over his ears as he burrowed his face into my leg.

"Do not mistake my courtesy to you." Whatever hesitation had lined Viv's words in front of Esme the act was shed entirely as she moved between me and Clara. "Your sister is the only reason I didn't rip you to shreds for even asking about him. He has moved on, and from the looks of it so have you, so there is no reason to even trespass on his happiness."

"He ruined-" she started to hiss but Viv's cry was enough to shatter her complaints to bits.

"No! You almost ruined him." Her hand came up, but the rage fizzled as she clenched her fingers into a fist instead, waving between them in futility. "I have nothing left to say to you. We're leaving." She turned and gathered me up just as quickly as Reggie, firm motherly hands guiding her goslings out the door and onto the street. As soon as we were out of confinement, she scooped Reggie off the ground and into her arms, littering his cheek with kisses. "I'm sorry, darling. I shouldn't've yelled."

Reggie seemed entirely unbothered, especially as he displayed his cheek for more kisses. Sweetly, his hand reached out and patted my shoulder. "Are you OK, Miss Maka?"

That melted more of the ice from Viv's face, an easy sigh fluttering from her lips at the love of her boy.

"Fine, thank you, Reggie." I caressed his little fingers before he pulled them away.

They left to begin softly played in her hair. "Mama, it's time for ice cream!"

Viv exchanged a smile between the two of us. "You have never been more correct." That inkling of running was left behind us, the tension unwinding with each step of distance between us and that tumultuous past. Or at least that was what I thought until Viv opened her mouth again. "Reggie, did you know I met your uncle before I met Daddy?"

Both of our ears perked while Reggie gave the obligatory: "No…"

"And the funny thing is, when I did finally meet Daddy, all I could think of was how identical the two of them were." Viv let Reggie start to slip so he could walk between us, his attention waning with a story that was starting to tangle as many truths as untangle. "They were both so cool, nonchalant--the only difference being your father was more of a Cary Grant while your uncle was entirely James Dean." She let a weak laugh bubble free along with the nostalgia as she sent soft eyes my way. "His brother used to tease him- call him Mr. Cool."

I could swear my heart stopped from the ache.

Viv didn't seem to notice, her smile entirely undiminished as she looked back down at Reggie while their intertwined hands swung. "He had so much life, so much attitude but…" Her lip crinkled before she pulled in a desperate breath. "There's a lot of behaviors we excuse women for. We think that because it's a woman doing it, it can't possibly be all that bad. Men stand up for themselves, after all. I'm honestly ashamed of myself that I let that lie live for as long as it did."

I reached for her, letting my hand tentatively touch her shoulder before sliding it across her back as she drew nearer. Reggie let himself be squeezed between the two of us, steps awkward and off-kilter as I tried to ease the agony of ripping out another of Soul's secrets.

"Reggie, listen to one last thing-" Viv started after clearing her throat, waiting for Reggie's cherubic face to look up at her again. "What that lady did--grabbing Miss Maka like that--was wrong. We don't touch people like that, no matter what."

He nodded curtly, mind surely drifting back to ice cream as soon as the lesson was delivered.

Viv heaved out a sigh. "Unfortunately, no one ever taught Clara that."

Chapter 14: Taking a Chance

Notes:

tw: discussions of domestic violence

special thanks to marshofsleep for helping me perfect Kid in this first scene.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The door was locked- a great fucking start to the interview. I double-checked the email again- time, place, and everything all in order. I took another chance to knock on the frosted door before taking a few steps back so my spine could meet the wall of the hallway. You should have known this wasn't going to work- wasn't going to go anywhere because-

A shuffle from the end of the hallway turned my head just in time to see a tall, lanky man rounding the corner. His black hair was streaked with these three white parallel lines, but for all of the chic of his hair, the rest of him couldn't be more straight-laced. He was wearing an impeccable suit without even the whisper of a wrinkle, his bowtie absolutely pin-straight. "I'm sorry I'm late-" his voice was anything but sorry, commanding in the close confines of the hallway "-but one of the stitches on my bowtie was loose-"

What? I barely kept myself from squawking. A loose fucking string?

"-and then, of course, I had to determine the stitching style. At first, I assumed it was a backstitch but after forty-three guides and sixteen tutorials on DeathTube-"

How long were these tutorials?

"-I concluded it was, in fact, a slip stitch. I thought this unusual so I brought it to Ms. Mabaa-" his forward motion had entirely stopped as if getting into the office meant nothing to him "-and she insisted it was a fell stitch which meant three more tutorials before I decided to visit the local sewing circle where I was able to get the finer details that those types of ubiquitous internet tutorials often miss." He struck me with a triumphant smile. "It wasn't until then that I was able to fix the string issue. Of course, I can give you pointers after the interview if you'd like. Though, none of that is an excuse for making you wait."

"Wasn't a problem…" I managed before dipping my eyes to look myself up and down for any loose fucking strings. There's definitely something loose in his headWell, as if I'm one to fucking talk. "Just glad you could meet me."

He moved to the door as he rattled a set of keys. "Viv said you were qualified."

"Well-" I'd never had an interview start on a doorstep before so my words were more of a muddy mess in my mouth than what had years ago been a smooth croon. So much for Mr. Cool. "I, uh, did send you my resume, so…" So fucking cool.

The door clicked open to unveil the most immaculate office I'd ever stepped into. Any book lining the wall was matched by height and then by color. Every piece of furniture was made from identical wood and was oddly tilted all to specific angles which seemed to maximize walking space even in the limited room. A part of me was sure I was supposed to take off my damn shoes.

"Which, on paper, is fine. Take a seat." He motioned towards a chair in front of the desk. Before he could move around to the high-backed leather chair that just screamed boss, one of the picture frames on the wall sucked him in as he started a terrifying game of slight taps back and forth to its tilt. "I am fully aware of my… idiosyncrasies-" he sighed as he once again made a minute change to the frame's trajectory "-and am not surprised at the difficulties it has brought me in finding and keeping a partner."

You don't say? But I kept my trap shut.

"But Viv has assured me you have the patience of a saint." That and a slightly contented sigh signaled the end of his finagling. He finally turned to me, but instead of sitting at the desk, he stood, crossing his arms.

This translated to: "Is she wrong?"

I cleared my throat. "Listen, I do whatever needs to be done. You tell me what you want and I'll make the game plan and execute, no questions asked." I tried to wave my hand towards the picture frame as nonchalant as I could muster. "Nothing gets in the way of that."

"Nothing?" His shoulders tensed but his voice didn't, still that blank command.

"Nothing," I offered back as I let my hand fall back to my lap. "Idiosyncrasies, strings, whatever--I'll get used to it."

Silence sunk between us, neither moving a muscle in a game where I couldn't decide if I was the cat or the mouse. All I knew was that I had to do this. No being stuck, not when my life--what I wanted for my life--was on the line. If I could get this nine to five with a salary, I could live out that stupid sitcom dream of coming home to her and the baby, drifting through domestic bliss until it was time to cuddle up next to her on the couch. That's all I could see- all I could feel in the face of this guy staring me down.

"When can you start?"

I barely kicked the brakes on a heavy sigh of relief, instead opting for one of those show-stopping smirks that I could still somehow remember to produce. "I'd like to give my old job the customary two weeks, then I'm all yours."

"Two weeks it is." He deflated slightly, a bend coming to that long spine as he finally sunk into the oversized leather boss's chair.

"Uh, just one thing-" I started and he straightened, suddenly all business again.

"What is it?"

"What do I call you?" Sure, I saw the boring-ass name on the email--Mortimer something-or-other Jr.--but I was hoping he'd found his own version of Soul.

That sent him whirling for a second, his jaw slacking slightly in astonishment. "I never introduced myself…" he muttered to himself as a hand slapped his forehead.

I couldn't stop the easy chuckle. "I'm Soul--Solomon's a little too bougie for me--and you're…?"

"Technically Mortimer," he replied as he dropped his palm to show off the start of a real smile. "But everybody calls me Kid."


I guess I'd sorta spaced on the way home--definitely too overjoyed with the idea that I'd fucking done it. Fuck calling it a big leap this was a fucking plunge and I'd done it! And I was about to go home to my-my girl and just kiss her because maybe I felt like a man for a second. Maybe I felt like someone worthwhile and worthy of actually being in her space. As I walked up the stairs, I finally took my phone out of my pocket and noticed the thirteen missed calls from Viv. I was hoping it was just sisterly worry, but I stopped on the next landing to give her two words to calm whatever storm.

She entirely bypassed the greeting just to firmly jump down my throat: "Are you home yet?"

"One flight of stairs away from it." I tried to inject some kind of humor with a weak laugh but it didn't catch.

"You have to forgive me, Soul." Each word was suddenly saturated with the warble of tears. "I never imagined that taking her out would ruin things like this."

"I thought you were just playing hooky today to do the registry…" Even I found no comfort in my own words as my heart started to claw up the back of my throat.

"We were- we did, but we ran into Esme and-"

No! My mind bucked right over the name and forget my throat! My heart was already spewing right out of my mouth to sickly plop to the floor. "What happened?" I managed to squeeze out over the rawness.

"Only an argument, but you know Clara, Soul, she-"

Oh, I know her, alright. "I'll call you back," I gritted hoarsely before dropping the call and slipping my phone back into my pocket. Terror lined my steps instead of excitement as I got to our floor and rushed towards her door. My knocks thundered almost as loud as my heart.

There wasn't a lick of tears on her face and those green eyes seemed as clear as a summer's day, but my mind couldn't stop reeling. "Soul-"

"Did she hurt you?" It didn't even sound like my voice, strained and hoarse with tears that I didn't notice had come. My hands started at her face, touching cheeks to look for the shadow of a bruise or the mar of a mark. Even though there wasn't any to be found, I couldn't stop them from moving to her neck, her shoulders, then tumbling down towards her elbows. That's when I saw it--those raised red lines just below the joint. Years of swallowing it had left the rage that surfaced now a tempest rather than a shower. "Did she do this to you?"

Maka's shoulders sank with a sigh. "Yes, but-"

"No fucking buts," I wailed. "She can't- that fucking bitch-"

"Soul!" This time her voice rang loud enough to derail me from my single track. I blinked at her, silenced by the shock of her tone. "Is it any worse than what she's done to you before?"

I was more prepared to deliver her baby than I was for that question.

Tears started to tremble at her lids but her voice was clear of them, just a determined threat. "Because you coming through this door with that question first makes me think you know that she hurts people. So be honest with me, did she hurt you?"

I wished so desperately that my mind could click off, just shut down and go dark. When you don't think about that question--when you kind of just throw a tarp over all those old memories and pretend like that black part of your mind doesn't exist--well, that's how you fucking survive. You don't think about their hands on you. You don't think about all the screaming. You don't think about the fear, the anxiety, the constant uneasiness that you carry just because you don't know when it's going to happen next because anything you do can cause the next turn.

"I don't need you to tell me everything-" her hands were on my cheeks now, clearing away the tears I'd forgotten about "-but hurting you matters just as much as hurting me."

"No," I whispered mournfully as my fingers worked at the edge of those disgusting scrapes. "That happened to me because I…"

… deserved it -some dark little voice muttered in the back of my head.

Because I did, didn't I? For years, I just sat there and took it. It wasn't like I couldn't fight back--as if I wasn't a head taller than Clara ever was and didn't work out often enough to keep muscle on my thin frame. I could have knocked her out if I wanted to or at least grabbed a wrist to stop that forward motion. Instead, I cowered like a fucking dog with my tail between my legs. I wasn't a man, I was just-

"Because she is a horrible person," Maka hissed as her hands clamped sternly to my face. "Would you let her hit Jack?"

"What?" My eyes popped wide.

"What about Reggie?"

"They're kids, Maka, of course not!" I urged back but that didn't do an ounce of good for the rage that was starting to blossom on her face.

"Then what about Wes? If she hit Wes-"

"Wes wouldn't take that from her," I spat while I grabbed at her wrists, trying to separate myself from her warmth. "I'm the jackass that sat and took it, Maka, OK? I let that happen to me and I ain't proud of it! Some fucking man I turned out to be."

She shook her head ferociously, rattling my hold on her before pressing into me. "Is that what she told you? That you weren't man enough? That getting hurt by someone else because they couldn't control themselves made you less of a person?"

I tried to swallow the bile burning at the back of my throat.

"You were abused, Soul."

"Nah," I complained breathlessly as I dropped my hold on her. She let me take a few steps back as my hands dipped into my hair to try to steady the spin of my head. "It wasn't- I told you I-" All the arguments crumbled like sand on my tongue.

"And something tells me it wasn't just physical-"

No, no, no -my brain groaned on repeat. Soft palms pressed to my back and my mind never felt so betrayed by my body. While my thoughts were all about struggling to tear away from her, all I could do was lean back and let her hands have me. Her arms surrounded me, desperately giving my skin what it was crying for even if my mind was yelling against it.

"The things she said about you-" now her voice quivered with tears, a few of them dampening the back of my shirt "-were terrible, but so easy- so practiced. They sound just like what you're saying now."

Yeah, because whose fucking lines was I parroting, huh? How many times was that said with her tone, with her sweet lilt of dissatisfaction?

"I know I'm digging too deep-" she squeezed me with enough force to annihilate hopes for an inhale "-but if you're angry about how much she hurt me, know that I'm furious that she did this to you! I-I want you to be too! You can't be mad about a scratch on my arm if you can't be enraged by what she's done to your heart!"

Since Clara and I had met, scales had sorta tipped as far away from cool as they could get. I thought I had learned that what I was wasn't good enough--that there was always going to be some bottomless hole to fill because I was lacking. I didn't have to be mad about what was happening to my heart because what the hell was I using it for? But now, as tarnished and barely working as the ol' ticker was, Maka seemed to want it, and I was pretty sure anyone was shit out of luck if they tried to go against her.

I couldn't tell if the sigh that came from me was relief or just the overwhelming nature of it all. My hands trembled as I reached into my pocket again and fished out my phone.

"What are you-"

"Just listen, OK?" I murmured as I slid my free hand into hers. Back in the day, I'd had at least enough sense to block her, so I had to bother through the settings first before putting a number in that I unfortunately still knew by heart.

A few rings and the line connected, a breathy snicker as my hello. "What, did Viv tattle?"

"Kinda hard to miss the scratch marks on her arm, Clara," I muttered.

Maka's grip tightened.

"So what? Your little whore's upset and that makes it OK to call me?"

"I'm angry-" that quivered but I forced it to stick "-and I want you to know just why that is."

She scoffed. "As if I have time for-"

"You're gonna make time," I belted, and the relief of the line going silent only fed me. "I made excuses for you, Clara. All this time I said it was me because how could little-miss-perfect be wrong? But there ain't a chance of me thinking that again because you hurt Maka and if there's anyone in this world that shouldn't be fucking touched like that it's her. So maybe I'm starting to figure out what I should have all along: what you did to me was wrong and it was your fucking fault. Come near my family again- come near me again, and I'll make sure you regret it."

Another derisive laugh started, but I didn't let it resound in my brain, just dropping my hand as I hung up. I set it back to block before slipping it into my pocket and trying to pull in a breath.

"That was a good start," she murmured.

Something that weakly resembled a chuckle bubbled up through all the terror. "Still not totally sure I believe it…" I squeezed her fingers desperately, wanting to steal some courage from the connection. "Maka, I… tell me what she said to you."

Her free hand made wrinkles in my shirt while the one tangled in mine pulsed.

"Probably ain't anything I haven't heard before." I let out a breathy, quaking laugh.

"It was-" A sigh jittered near my spine. "I told you, Soul, it was cruel and I-"

"It was about sex, wasn't it?" Bile met my teeth with that one as my head hung. I didn't need her answer--even if that slight tightening in her hold told me everything--since that was the part I'd never escape. It was what I'd been running from since the date and honestly even before that. That's the kind of broken part that nobody wants--that maybe nobody can fix. "I- uh-" Another desperate yelp of a laugh managed to shoot over my lips. "I can't-"

"Soul, really, you don't-"

"Nah," I cut her off shakily. I let go of her hand and just got out of her hold enough so I could turn. That was all she let me manage before her hands were on me again, trying to grip my arms as I stared down at her. "You said it ain't ruined, Maka, but how's that work if I couldn't tell you the truth--if you didn't hear it from me rather than her…?" My lips pulled tight in a grimace.

"I don't think I heard the truth," she urged back, destroying my momentum as far as the confession I thought I was going to deliver. "She-" Maka bolstered herself with a giant breath "-she said that you didn't want children. That you couldn't- well, couldn't follow through."

The euphemism made my gut shrivel but the determination on her face kept my stomach from hitting the floor.

I didn't have time to wallow in it because she was gathering my hands into hers with another tender squeeze. "Soul, there's three things that I have as requirements for us."

Alright, goodbye, stomach. Since how the hell was sex not a requirement in a relationship?

"One-" she shook my hands for emphasis "-is that you respect me."

There was enough of a pause that I finally clued into the need for a callback. "Of course I respect you."

"Two, you support me. Not financially or anything like that, but you do what you seem to have been doing all along: being a partner and a friend."

"Well, yeah," I murmured. I had to give in to those fingers, letting her hands slip up my arms while I rested mine on her waist. I honestly just wanted to gather her up- to bury myself against her like I'd gotten into the habit of doing. Number three was on its way though, so I tried to settle on her hips.

"Three…" The pause made me want to falter but an absolutely adorable bit of blush was hitting her cheekbones. "That you're attracted to me."

The jump of my eyebrows almost instantly turned into a crinkle. "You don't think I am?"

"No, it's not that." Maka laughed breathily as her hands came to my chest to play with my tie while her eyes honed in on the motion. "I think I've caught you looking at me."

I swallowed--half guilt and half healthy memory of that dress she wore the other night. "Can't help it."

"And that's fine--it's what I want, and it's what matters." Jade popped back up to me, oddly pleading in a moment when I was sure it should be me doing the begging. "I just assume having sex means different things to each couple and if it has to be different with us, that's fine too. It's just that… just caring about me- wanting to take care of me and Jack isn't all that I want out of a relationship. It's obviously part of it, but I do want someone desiring me and I think you've been doing both. What I'm hoping is you can keep doing those three things and the rest we can navigate together- as a team."

All I could do was stare slightly slack-jawed like a complete idiot.

"So I'm not disappointed, and we're definitely not ruined." She kneaded nervously into my chest. "Whatever happens with that part of our relationship should be whatever makes both of us happy. I don't want you to feel pressured or to hurt like that ever again."

This was the second time I was in that spot with her. No one was supposed to see this- accept it- rationalize it but here I had a beautiful, passionate woman telling me what I was doing was enough. Reliving Clara's bullshit had almost stolen all that from me. Seeing those searching eyes looking back up at me, all I could do was let a little bit of the victory at least get a nail's worth of a hold on me. I dipped my forehead to rest on hers. "I wanna make you happy," I croaked.

"You do," she pleaded as she slid her hands up so her arms could wrap around my neck. "I know how stupid it is to say stop worrying but, please, Soul, just give it a rest, at least for tonight." Maka added a soft shake to punctuate and that was enough to break me. I crumpled into her, guilty for making her take the weight of me and the baby but drowning in the warmth of it all the same. "And please," she murmured against my ear as she stroked my hair, "be happy too."


Maka was just starting to nod off, a movie uselessly playing in the background. I honestly don't know why we bothered anymore, putting it on like we need an excuse to lay in bed and eventually fall asleep. My palm was just under her shirt, an unsaid ritual I'd started with Jack that I was still too embarrassed to put into words. What idiot thinks he can talk to a kid in the womb with just a touch? Either way, this idiot was doing that again, hand pressed in the last place her little boy had rumbled.

Jack, it's bedtime, kiddo. Don't bother your mama anymore for today, alright? I promise I'll keep up my end of the bargain--ice cream, just as long as your mama says it's OK. She's the boss, after all.

I quieted the laugh that wanted to come by biting into my lip. Trying to follow her orders for happiness, I dipped closer, nuzzling into her shoulder.

She hummed out sweetly. "I'm just resting my eyes."

Alright, that chuckle I couldn't stop and Jack gave me a tap as a reward. "S'alright. Sleep. You're going into the office tomorrow, so you'll need it."

That perked her instead, chin whipping towards my forehead as she turned. "Office! You had your interview today!"

"Got a job today," I corrected softly.

"I knew it!" The confident peal of joy was just another stitch in my heart. She was trying to get back to facing me so I hooked my arm around her to help. As soon as she was over her lips were on mine, a steady warmth catching me by surprise. "Soul, congratulations!" Her excitement burst in the small space between us.

I didn't need the word, just stole another bit of sweetness from her lips. "Yeah, in two weeks." Maka let me take another kiss. "Not looking forward to telling Liz and Tsu tomorrow."

She fed me that cute little disappointed "oooh" as she cuddled closer, the body pillow be damned. "You never told me--what is this job Viv thought you'd be perfect for?"

I cleared my throat, trying to push away that last little bit of self-doubt in my head. I remember the first time I mentioned anything to my family- to Clara and the reaction was still dug deep into my bones. "I went to school for art--not making it so much as appraising it, archiving and stuff like that."

"Soul," she groaned and I couldn't help but clench in anticipation of the rejection.

"What?" I warbled back.

"Now saying you liked my art is even more ridiculous," she whined as she prodded my chest. "If you actually know art like that, my stupid picture box is-"

I caught that on her lips, elation finding a firm hold in my heart. Oh, Maka, how could you be this- "Beautiful," I murmured in the little break between us. "Told you, composition was good-" I nuzzled my nose to hers "-and sometimes it's just about the feeling behind it. That was the first time that I thought that maybe… I could mean something to you."

Her contented sigh fluttered over my lips. "I feel like you've always meant something to me."

I parted enough from her to catch the easy blink of those jade eyes, calling me to fall into them and her. "Maybe… a lot more than something now?" The question could be nothing more than a minefield but I need it.

"Safe to say." She smiled softly before giving me another peck. Her fingers reached up and ruffled through my hair. "Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?"

"Don't worry about that." I settled in the bed next to her as closely as I could get to steal her warmth. "You sleep and eventually I'll get jealous enough to follow."

She snorted a soft laugh before letting her sleep-heavy lids bat slowly. "I really am proud of you."

A smile was all I could offer back, the idea still making any reply cling to my throat.

"Good night." She planted one last peck on my lips before she settled into her pillow.

Disturbing her was the last thing I wanted to do, but I couldn't stop my hand from reaching and drifting into her hair to smooth it back. Closeness- intimacy was a mystery to me, but while every touch came with insecurity, each was rewarded with another flutter of satisfaction across her smile. All my soothing fingers did was urge her closer to sleep. I eased back on my side of the bed but kept the contact, watching as her features relaxed and the world around us started to drift further into darkness.

I don't know what I had been expecting before Maka and I met- whether it was to just drag myself through the boring repeats of my life until I croaked or somehow to crash and burn in some James Dean sorta way. Dreaming of a life- a family never even hit my radar. I'd given up the chance I had with Clara and that was it- all I was allowed in this world. Instead, I had her. I had Jack. I had something close to a purpose.

I finished one last caress before my hand settled on the comforter and Jack hidden underneath. Your mama's special, Jack. I ain't just saying that because I'm smitten or anything. I'm saying that because she's strong, beautiful, and full of more comfort and compassion than any of us deserve. She's gonna love you better than anyone's ever loved anyone else and I hope… maybe I can have a little bit of that from her too.

A quivering sigh left my chest aching. Because I love her, Jack. I really do.

Notes:

I hope you've all been OK with my handling of domestic violence. Honestly, it's been a cathartic process for me. It seems cheesy to say, but if you're experience something like this or know someone who is, please reach out to the domestic violence hotline. 800.799.SAFE or go to thehotline.org

Chapter 15: Body and Soul

Notes:

tw: discussions of domestic abuse, masturbation

... leave it to me to turn a fic into an examination of male abuse and the dissociation that comes with prolonged emotional/physical abuse...

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Liz was barging into the apartment before I even got a greeting in. "Is your girlfriend here?" I let her view after she elbowed past me into the living room answer for me. "Aw, come on! Where is she?"

"She went back to work." I tapped the door closed before slipping my hands into my pockets to try to hide sweaty palms. This is a bad, terrible, awful idea.

"Back?" Liz raised her eyebrows incredulously. "She's pregnant, doesn't that usually mean taking time off from work?"

I tried to shrug in innocence as if the fault fell on me. "Just back to the office for a bit. She's not taking maternity until Jack comes. She said she doesn't want to waste it. Wants to use all her time when he's actually here."

Her lip curled sourly. "Death, the maternity leave in this nation is a fucking travesty." That grimace turned from mad to morose as she moved to collapse into the armchair. "I seriously hate that you're leaving, but I'm glad you took the job. That baby's going to be a lot, and you already know half that stuff so she's going to need you."

"Yeah…" I croaked before turning my eyes to find something interesting in my socks.

"What else?" Liz pressed with that sisterly exasperation.

"So…" I tested a slow breath in and out, but it was nothing more than a nervous huff. "I- well, I don't fucking know."

"You do," she snapped back with the ease of an older sibling. "Especially since you invited only me--not the dream team--which means you have something to ask that only can answer or handle."

Worms gnawed at my stomach lining. "OK, yeah."

"So…" I guess I took too long with my eyes still on my toes because a coaster sailed in my direction, hitting me in the knee. As if such a tiny disk of plastic could take me out, my knees buckled, planting my ass with a hard thump to the floor. I knew I was being no better than a kid, but I couldn't help it especially not with big sis glaring down at me from her throne.

I bent my knees, hugging them to my chest. "I sorta… Liz, it's been fucking forever since I had sex."

"Oh." I could hear her shuffle in her seat but still didn't have the nerve to bring my eyes to her, just focusing on my fingers fiddling into my kneecaps. "Not even random hook-up sex?"

I rolled my eyes.

"OK, stupid question." She heaved a sigh. "But you haven't been in a relationship in a while, have you? I don't think you've ever mentioned anyone at work before Maka."

"That's right," I murmured, nodding my chin slightly into my knees.

"Well, sex is about communication, so even being out of practice isn't the end of the world. You just ask her during and hope she's vocal enough to help you out."

I groaned and ducked my forehead to my knees.

"Don't be such a baby!" I expected another coaster but it was her hand instead, coming to the crown of my head to ruffle my hair. "You two were so cute-it's obvious she's crazy about you! So just let it-"

"I can't."

Her fingers threw my hair askew again. "Soul, come on-"

"No, Liz-" I lifted my head and shrank back from her fingers "-I mean, I can't. I haven't been able to, even when I was with someone before."

Liz settled back on her haunches in silence. I wanted to look away, but I watched as her eyebrows revolved through a set of emotions I wasn't exactly expecting: a little bit of confusion, a dash of rage, and finally, a healthy dose of what I could only assume was understanding. "The entire time you were with this other someone?"

"I-" Again, I was threatening to rip that tarp off of the old life I'd buried, and I loathed it. I just wanted to snap that shell shut and keep every last one of them out but… "Beginning went fine. I could- we could just fine but the longer we were together…"

"Fell out of love?" Liz offered.

My teeth bit into my lip.

Her bottom thunked to the floor as she sat butterfly style in front of me with a sigh. "There's plenty of people out there who can have sex indiscriminately." Her fingers reached up to a strand of her hair, curling it around the tip. "It doesn't have to be about feelings, just release and fun. Then, there's people who need a deep connection. They can't perform the motions no matter how much they try if their heart's not in it."

I threw in a sigh as a sign of life since there were no words to follow. As a guy, a limp dick was just a fucking death sentence. You watched those embarrassing little-blue-pill commercials and could only think that was your future when you finally swallowed your pride. For the most part, it doesn't seem to be connected to your emotions but your manliness--whatever the fuck that was. You never see the guys in the movie having trouble bedding the heroine, so you must be some kind of freak if you can't manage it.

"Listen-" her voice drifted to a feather's brush "-have you tried by yourself recently?"

My brows furrowed.

"Yes, I mean jerking off." She sighed as her eyes bobbed for a moment.

"Well, no," I muttered. "Not since… guess before that someone."

"Maybe try that first." Liz nodded with such surety I thought she might scramble her brain in the process. "A little alone session--porn if that's your thing, but I'm thinking maybe Maka thoughts are more appropriate."

Pink stained my cheeks and heated around my collar.

"Because whatever that old relationship was, Soul, it's gone." She untangled her finger from her hair and reached for me, a hand gently falling on my forearm. "It's time to realize the feelings that got in the way then are not the ones you have now. You're the closest I've ever seen you to being in love, so focus on that. When you kiss, it's…?"

A swallow awkwardly bumped down my throat. It's fucking electric? Yeah, that was too damn cheesy and would probably earn me some kind of freak out so I nodded instead. "Yeah, it feels good."

"All over?" Her eyebrows raised. "You know, tingles below the belt?"

"Uh-" I blew a flustered breath. "I sorta try not to think about that," I managed to squeak.

"OK, so that's another thing on the list." She displayed a peace sign, wiggling both fingers. "When you kiss, listen to your body. Let it tell you the yes or no. If you're getting turned on, keep going, if you're not, hit the breaks. Experiment by yourself. Try to be kind."

"Kind?" I balked.

"Yes," she urged with little patience. "You're never good to yourself, Soul. I've seen the forehead wrinkles all the time when you fuck up so I don't need to hear the internal dialogue to know you're super good at putting yourself down. So when you're alone, be nice. Try to clear your mind of all the negative dialogue and put on a soundtrack of people you love saying the good things."

Kissing Maka? Easy.

Masturbation? OK, not that difficult.

Being nice? How the fuck was I supposed to do that?


I was up before her alarm even though it was the last thing I needed to be. It was my day off and even though I had moved Reggie-time to the morning rather than the afternoon, I wasn't expected to stir until she was leaving for work. Instead, I was staring at the dawn-pinked ceiling, praying for some kind of miracle.

Because my afternoon? Booked with the idea that I was supposed to be jerking off. I felt like a teenager, scheduling the act when the house would be empty and I was free of responsibility. But at the same time, I was supposed to be gentle with myself, a task that seemed as daunting as finding a raindrop in a fucking ocean.

"Why are you awake?"

I jolted, muscles tensed into the pillow. "Should ask you the same thing."

"Jack's moving." Her hand slid onto my chest, forcing a sigh that cut some of the tightly wound string from around my chest. "But you don't have that excuse."

I rolled my head towards her, meeting jade eyes blinking with a mound of concern and very little sleep left in them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

I frowned. "More like can I ask you to do something."

Her face and answer remained unchanged.

Resting my hand on top of hers, I let my eyes roam her face while I tried to memorize how the early dawn light played on her hair. "Tell me to think just about you today. Only you."

Her eyebrows creased as her fingers tensed. "What else would you be thinking about?"

I squeezed the stiffness out of her hand. "I just… I only want to hear your voice in my head today and if you give me some kinda order, I think I can actually follow it."

"I don't like the idea of ordering you around…"

I snickered as some life came to my grin. "Yeah, you do."

A soft smile came to her lips. "Maybe about this."

"Just about this, sure." I ran my thumb over her knuckles. "So?"

"Soul Evans, today you are only allowed to hear my voice in your head," she murmured with so much pride that my heart quivered under her hand. "I'm the only anything you should think about, and when I get home tonight, I'm going to give you more to think about, OK?" Maka drummed her fingers on my chest playfully. "And you're going to have to listen to every last nice thing I say about you."

"Mm, sounds like torture…" I chuckled softly as I shimmied to my side. My relationship with this damn body pillow was starting to be a love-hate situation, forcing me to awkwardly negotiate until I'd squashed it between us. I brought my hand to her cheek, running it against the softest skin under my calloused fingers. "I promise, just you."

There was a flash of trepidation, just a strange sprinkle of some kind of fear across her green eyes. I wanted to latch onto it- to drag it out of her, but she pulled me in instead. Morning breath be damned because Maka didn't hesitate to lead me into a lingering kiss.

So what does kissing Maka Albarn feel like?

The cheesy: it is fucking electric!

The cheesier: how did I manage to get through a day without it?

The cheesiest: sometimes it's seriously like I'll never get my breath back again and I couldn't give less of a shit about it. Goodbye, air--nobody misses you anyway.

Somehow, I could still hear Liz in the back of my head: "That's your brain, idiot, what about your body? What's your body saying?"

If she was willing to let me go, Maka wasn't showing it so I stayed stuck to her as I sunk a hand into her hair. The tingle of her tresses against my fingers traveled the length of my arm, a spark that started in my chest but drifted lower. I concentrated on following it, hoping that it blossomed instead of dying. Just as it sunk, her hand met it when delicate fingers snuck under my t-shirt. It wasn't just a glint anymore, now a blaze fed by the smooth press of her palm. I tried to burn that into my memory just as much as it sizzled into my skin.

"Sorry," she murmured over my lips.

"For what?" I laughed dryly as I continued to play with her hair. "That wake-up was better than a cup of coffee."

That beautiful sensation disappeared as her hand came to rest on my chest instead. "Liar. You're an addict and you know it."

"Maybe I'm a lil' addicted to both." I nuzzled my nose to hers, happily receiving another fix.

"Soul…" My name came out on the sweetest sigh.

"Careful with that-" I tried to mutter but it was nothing but a love-sick whisper. "You gotta leave this bed sometime soon, don't you?"

She groaned--and unfortunately not in that attractive, "I hit the right spot" kinda way.

"I'll make the coffee."

But her fingers refused for a moment, pinching slightly into my t-shirt.

"I swear I'll leave you some," I murmured with a soft laugh.

"You're only thinking of me today?" The question was barely more than a breath.

"Well, maybe I'll take a break for Reggie, maybe spend a second or two on Jack…" I slid my hand down until I was cradling the bump in question. "Let's say the whole afternoon until you're home." I was too busy peeking into the covers to see how that hit her, only finding her blinking with slow steadiness when I raised my eyes again. "That's a promise I'm gonna keep."


Be nice.

Be kind.

Be gentle.

Damn, it felt like I was giving Reggie some kind of lesson as I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. Instead, I was alone, stripped down to my boxers and trying to ignore the nervous energy that wanted to pile up in my gut.

So what? Was I supposed to start sweet-talking myself?

Hey, that scrawny build's sorta cute on you.

Yeah, right.

Hey, while your hair's the color of an old man's, at least you got a punk-rock shape to it.

Gee, thanks.

Hey, maybe if your dick would work-

A sigh turned into a groan-again, not that sexy, "I'm ready to go" kinda cry but more the "someone please shoot me now" style. I rolled onto my stomach, face pressed into the pillow and welcoming the suffocation.

The problem is you stop listening to your body. There's no way you could listen to it if you were hoping to go through with the act. You kind of force yourself to tune every last message out so that your brain can blare the obvious: "Just fuck her!" It's expected. It's what that other person obviously wants and since you're in a relationship--well, the obligation falls on you to give it to them. Needs? Wants? Urges? All of them tossed to the wayside as you just try to be normal, to do the normal couple thing.

I finally moved my head just enough to catch something other than stale pillow breath. How the fuck can I be nice about that?

Instead, it was Clara's hands- Clara's voice- Clara's body next to mine in my head. A low whine rumbled up from my chest as the sting started in my eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You weren't even drinking tonight-"

"Tell me! Tell me it's because you're a fucking-"

I pounded my fist into the bed, jolting my head up from the pillow to loosen the tears. They plopped uselessly to mar the case as I pulled up on my elbows.

Stop, I begged my mind and my heart even though I wanted it to be an order. Please, stop. Thinking about her, about that, all that does is- My hands latched onto the pillow, tightening until my knuckles ached. Stop- this came steadier -because you're breaking a promise. You can't let her in when you swore it'd just be Maka. You want to be the kinda asshole that goes back on his promises?

I strangled the pillow for a few seconds more as my breathing slowed. It was enough to get me out of bed, pacing against the floorboards until some of that fizzle had unknotted in my stomach. I wandered out towards the kitchen, forcing myself through a tall glass of ice water. That frigid temperature had the habit of dissolving a layer of my anxiety--the ache of the freeze was always something more manageable than the one in my heart. OK, reset, restart. Keep your promises.

I sighed as I made my way back to the bed and sunk onto my back again. Think about that first time you held herOr how about the first time she held you? Let you cry without a second of grief. One more even sigh as I tried to just live there, to be a part of that memory and steal another part of her. That intense second of elation when you saw your flowers on her wall. A shaky grin showed some of my teeth. The way she gushed over Viv--even fit in fine with Reggie and Wes. I managed a breathy laugh.

"You were happy with them, and seeing you happy… you deserve that."

"It ain't just with them," I murmured as I let my hands rest on my chest. My mind actually wandered, allowing me to relive the feeling of her fingers against my sternum.

Her tossing that clip in your hair and calling you handsome. I brushed my bangs away from my face, pretending it was her again as I closed my eyes for a better picture. Remember, she thinks you're good at loving. So maybe, if you just let go, you could be good at loving her.

My hand drifted down to where her palm had pressed this morning. There hadn't been a second of hesitation in her touch, just diving for my skin and caressing it without an order for more. It hadn't felt like some forced equation, like the two of us in bed kissing meant that I had to take the next step. Instead, if it hadn't been for the real world and work, I was sure we could have lingered there.

I started creating a world around that, placing us back between the sheets with that annoying pillow pressed between us. A world where her hand kept on a journey up my stomach to my chest to hold my heart before drawing burning lines to my back. If I kissed her deep enough--parting her lips with my tongue to really taste every last bit of sweetness from her--would those nails bite a little into the skin of my back? Would she actually give into an overcome whimper if I kept at that kinda kiss instead of slowing to mar the moment with words?

For the first time in my bed alone, I uttered something close to a real laugh. Nah, I don't think she'd whimper. If anything, I'd get a step-by-step guide gushing over what to do next. To me, it always seemed obvious that Maka knew herself, knew her wants and needs just as clearly as any written word on a page so being with her would just be that- soft, courageous surety. I could picture her hands moving mine, trailing over her collarbone again or disappearing into her hair. I had no frame of reference for her body--not more than what had melted into mine on the few occasions I'd stumbled closer to wanting--and I wasn't necessarily interested in improvising. I stuck to what I knew- what I loved.

I still hoped.

I still found myself wanting more of a memory of her.

I still held desperately to my promise and the feeling of her.

I can't say exactly that all of that was some kinda key--that suddenly my slate had washed clean. At the very least, my body was there and no longer floating in some disconnected pain. Instead, I was listening to the tune it was playing, the hum of desire from the careful examination of all of Maka.

Notes:

On a more personal note: I got my first real rejection from a publisher today. I'm not too upset, it's just one, but I'm still a little bruised. Hopefully one day they'll see what y'all see in my writing.

Chapter 16: Another Stitch

Notes:

tw: some sexual content

edit made 9/23 for story continuity

Chapter Text

Editing was no longer my occupation--I'd been on the same page for the past fifteen minutes--since swimming in shame had become my new pastime. How could I have been so stupid? Running a hand under his shirt like his body was fair game? We'd just set ground rules, and here I was blowing them out of the water because…

It's not his fault! Another sigh rattled from between my lips as my glare moved from the screen to my hand. Even though I knew it'd do nothing for the nervous energy, I moved my hands together, one set of fingers spinning the ring on the other. I used to think it was all I had left of Mama in this world, but I knew better--these thoughts were hers too.

"Is it really only me?" There was no doubt that was her voice, an accusation that I knew had passed between her and Papa a few times as my ear pressed against their door late at night.

I knew the answer even better than she did--after all, I'd caught him a few times. It wasn't as if he was all that sly about it either. Papa was an idiot, but here I was adding a little more proof in the nature versus nurture debate since there was no reason- not a single one that justified my mind wandering there. His words shouldn't have been twisting and turning in my brain.

He wants good thoughts, that's all.

I huffed and tried to focus on the screen again, tapping my pen against the desk in some hope to curb the nervous flutters in my stomach that definitely weren't my son's steady movements.

It's not that there's anyone else who fills his time. The only other girls he even seems to know are Liz and Tsubaki and at most, they were his sisters. He never even gave them a second glance…

The chair's squeal covered the tiny groan I let eke from my throat while I tilted back, my hands coming over my face as it angled up towards the ceiling.

Great, Maka, you're barely even a month into the boyfriend-girlfriend part of this relationship! Just let yourself enjoy it instead of letting your imagination run wild! Death, that's always easier said than done.


I went through the motions of our new Thursday routine: I came home from work and showered, then moved to his apartment for dinner. All the while I was trying to ignore that low buzz in the back of my brain, to contribute to the evening's usually lively conversation instead of giving into a question that shouldn't be a question.

Are we exclusive? sounded like I was expecting his varsity pin.

Is there anyone else you're seeing? was an accusation.

Am I crazy, hormonal, and absolutely just wanting to jump to strange conclusions out of complete and utter fear of this going well? was hitting the nail directly on the head.

But no matter how many times I could feed my monster of a brain that reality, it simply spit it back in my face. Just as I bit into my lip for another mental reiteration, I urged my hand forward to slap the mute on the remote. My head swiveled swiftly to his face, catching his raised eyebrows as his fingers flexed into my shoulder. "I'm not mad at you!" I blurted.

His bottom lip bobbed slightly before he murmured, "OK…"

"But I-" Oh, Death, where am I going with this? What am I going to say other than that?

He blinked, waiting patiently for what wasn't going to come. After a frustrating tick of silence, he pulled in a slow breath before filling it: "What are you mad at?"

I sighed as my hand flexed into a fist enough to dig a knuckle along the top of my thigh. "Maybe myself, or maybe…"

"Did something happen at work?" he offered. His hand relaxed, adoring fingers tracing soft lines over my skin.

"No…" That touch was agonizing, forcing me to crumble into him. I hid my face against his neck, hoping that it would stop the swell but I found that old pain that I'd been regurgitating all day instantly coming back up my throat. "When I was fourteen, my parents divorced." I wanted that to be the end of it but he tipped his head to rest his cheek against me and I lost whatever grip I thought I had. "Mama got fed up with Papa's cheating so she left." For once, there was no salt-water bath for my cheeks, those tears cried out years before.

"She take you with her?" There was a sweet delicateness to his voice but still such a solid thrum that urged the question forward.

"She left me with him." My heart ached to just curl into him, a call that seemed to reach his fingers. His other hand slid over the globe of my stomach to my waist. "Then she just… forgot." How else do you describe a mother that disappears into smoke? I've never once blamed her for cutting the ties that bound her to Papa but… there was no soothing the emptiness she left for me.

"When's the last time you saw her?"

I tilted my head away enough so that I could look down at my hand, catching the glint of her ring as I moved my fingers along the fabric of his shirt. "At her funeral."

His breath caught.

"Ten years ago." As I tried to pull away, his hand disappeared from my waist to catch my cheek. His gentle, needy fingers kept me in place and stole any hope I had to look anywhere else but his eyes.

"What made you think of that?"

I stubbornly shook my head. "It's not your fault."

"Didn't say it was," he muttered. Soul tapped a finger against my jaw. "But I still want you to tell me."

I chewed at my lip again, hoping for some kind of miraculous reprieve but receiving only his steady stare. "You needed me to tell you to think only about me today."

He heaved a sigh as his forehead tipped to rest on mine. "Please don't tell me-"

"I know," I groaned out weakly. "I-I can guess what you were afraid you'd think about and I know that has nothing to do with what my papa did."

His lips lacked all gentleness, a firm plant over mine as if to wipe away the words. When he released me, he pulled back so his gruff whisper shot between us. "I tried something today."

"What?" I murmured, half still in the wonder of his kiss but now thrown for a loop as his throat bobbed through a hard swallow.

"I wanted to think of you because-" he was interrupted by another rough jitter fluttering down his neck "-Maka, I was trying to get- to see if I could…" A rough sigh broke his lips before his hand slid down to my neck, cradling there as his desperate eyes pulled me in. "When I look at you- when I touch you, it feels good, so fucking good. You gotta know that I do want to, and I definitely thought--oh, fuck I had so many thoughts that first night on our date, I swear."

"Soul…" I interrupted his babbling with a sweet murmur of his name. My fingers worked into his t-shirt, trying to calm the furious beats I could feel throbbing through his skin. "Were you-" how can I put this as delicately, tenderly as possible? "-trying to get turned on?" I forced myself not to cringe--not that my words weren't perfect to evoke that emotion but the idea of any disapproval on my face would spell disaster for him. Again, he was glass in my hands.

He pinked slightly as he cleared his throat. "Sorry. I-I probably should have asked if that was OK."

"Why?" The question was filled with honesty since I was utterly dumbfounded by the idea.

"Thinking about you and touching myself…" he murmured before sending worrying teeth into his lip.

I could no longer keep the disagreement from my features, eyebrows wrinkling as I shook my head. "There's nothing wrong with that."

His head bobbed in surprise as if the words had slapped him.

"Especially since… were you doing it for me?" I searched his face, watching red eyes go wide before softening as he nodded. "How did--was it alright?"

He sighed as his eyes drifted downwards to my lap. "I could… but not all the way."

"Look at me," I pleaded as I gathered his hands away from my face so that I could clutch them in my own, to shake them in hopes that it would lend my words the strength that the gentleness in my voice couldn't convey. "I don't want you to feel ashamed. I know I can't tell you not to be, but I hope that at least you believe me when I say it. Especially since-" the burn of tears surprised me, choking the words away for a moment "-I spent all of today worried for no reason. You were at home trying to do something for us and I was at work creating nothing but an idiotic fantasy-"

"Hey," he chided as his hands squeezed mine. "S'alright, Maka, c'mon-"

"No," I groaned out mournfully.

A glum smile pulled at his lips as he let out a slow exhale. "Guess that sorta means I'm not the only one who's hurt, huh?"

It was my turn to be struck. It was plain--obvious--but I'd spent years swiping the entirety of it under the rug. I had never doubted Brian since the idea that he would keep himself from something he wanted was absurd. If I wasn't giving him enough anymore there wouldn't have been cheating, just complete dumping--cut off as soon as I wasn't good enough. Maybe that's why I pushed myself so hard to fit the mold, why I lost so much of myself in order to be with him.

Soul's fingers untangled from mine and moved to smooth away the thought. He caressed back my hair as the thumb of his other hand smeared a tear off my cheek. "If I don't get to feel ashamed, then neither do you." His voice finally adopted firmness, unshakeable for the first time in this confession. "It ain't like you came home accusing me of anything. Your mind just ran away with you. Happens to me all the fucking time." He let out a rueful laugh. "Why I had to ask you to make me promise in the first place."

"Did it work?" I sniffled.

"Mostly." His smile disappeared with another sigh. "Feels like… like I always have to panic first. I gotta give into it even if I don't want to. Today I just…" His eyes searched mine for a moment before he leaned to take a taste of my lips as if that could unjumble the words he needed. "I never fought back. I never did a thing to stop her. Not until I met you," he murmured in the small space leftover from our kiss. "And I want to keep doing that because when it is you, Maka, it's perfect."

I was used to that word resounding so bitterly in the back of my mind but every time it broke from him it just seemed like another note in our song. Any arrangement of my thoughts felt wrong so I brought him back into a kiss, my hands needily cupping his face to keep him. While I could have gotten lost in that, he surprised me with a tug from his hand tangled in my hair that parted us.

"Could you…" This time his sigh was sweet, his next words so filled with need. "Touch me like you did this morning. Please."

Clarification was entirely unnecessary since I'd let my mind wander back to that moment a few times today. One hand moved from his cheek to smooth down his shirt, finding the hem and sliding under. His stomach muscles along with his breath fluttered under my touch. "Does it-"

My question was gone, swallowed whole by his kiss. I had never worried about him mirroring my intensity--whatever I gave he always returned--but suddenly I was no longer the call that was being followed. Instead, it was his desperate need setting the pace as he parted my lips to plead for more with his tongue rather than his words. It was dizzying, and my only hope was to offer him a needy groan as my fingers tried to sear into the skin of his sides. All my wants to be gentle, to cradle him tenderly started to fizzle away as my hands continued to clutch.

My nails bit into skin before the panic hit me, my mind instantly bucking at the thought of hurting him. "I'm sorry!"

"For what?" huskily buzzed from his lips that were still so close to mine.

A pained sigh left him as I snatched my hand away. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know the difference-" a gruff bit of annoyance gritted in between his words "-between someone trying to hurt me versus someone wanting me." His hand caught mine, playing with the pads of my fingers. "Am I wrong?"

I shook my head, letting our noses nuzzle in the process. "I want you." I hoped every last ounce of the meaning of those words to hit him- to hold him. If there was ever anything I wanted him to be sure of, it was that he was so deeply necessary.

"Then don't stop yet-" he nipped at my lips "-please."

I don't think I'd ever heard that plea from him more than once in a week's time--never one to beg unless tainted with sarcasm. None of that applied here, that word so saturated with need that I couldn't help but bend to him. I knew there would be a tipping point, some break he'd require, except I couldn't help but surge to meet it in my own deepening want.

Suddenly his lips were no longer on my own, instead drawing a line along my jaw. His hand was at the base of my neck, winding in my hair to tip me in whatever way he wanted. That angle allowed him to get to my ear, as he brushed the lobe with a gentle kiss. "You're beautiful."

Even in all of the hormonal fuzz, I froze--not pliable and melting but stricken with a woeful fear I had never quite erased. When was the last time someone said that to me? My fingers tightened, no longer out of ecstasy but a deep yearning to hold on.

"I don't want you thinking for a second…" That drifted off with another soft press of his mouth on the pulse of my neck. "That I don't wish this was easier--that I could be normal for you."

I thought my heart had crumbled enough at the compliment, but now with that forlorn lilt to his voice, I was sure it would break. I loosened my grip, gliding my palms over his back to whisper soothing into his skin. "This is normal, Soul." His lip trembled against my neck but only offered a shallow exhale instead of argument. "Actually it's better than normal." My fingers cascaded down his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Can we go to bed?"

"Huh?" He peeked from his hiding spot, red eyes meeting mine with so much trepidation.

"I bought a new pillow." I let my hands sit on his sides, resting there to hold him. "This one's just the front so you could get closer--if you wanted to." Color was burning on my cheeks, a strange but elating girlish embarrassment bringing warmth to them. "I know it's been kind of a battle with that thing between us."

That broke a real laugh from his mouth as Jack stirred right on cue. "Yeah, but… little early for bed, ain't it?" He glanced at the clock, showing off the flush of his cheeks as his head turned.

You can tell him what you want. You can tell him what you need because that's actually important to him, isn't it? "I think…" My hands slipped out from under his shirt, moving to gather his up. "Maybe holding me for a while will help with those thoughts."

"Mine or yours?" he murmured, dejection starting to slither into his voice again.

"Both." I wanted to destroy those worries before they settled, forcing me to start shimmying off the couch. My heart still forgot its rhythm every time my awkward movements jumped him to attention like an instant call for his smooth ones to help me to my feet. As soon as we were standing, I was back to leading the way and pulling him towards the bedroom. The old pillow lay abandoned on the floor as the tinier j-shaped stayed in its place.

"You want a movie on?" As I got close enough to the bed to sit down at the side, he remained shuffling at the end, eyeing me and then the desk where the laptop usually sat.

"No, I think I want to talk a bit more if that's OK?" I laid down without the answer, rolling onto my side to hug the pillow.

"S'fine…" The floor still creaked with another uneasy movement of his feet before the bed dipped under his weight.

My heart lurched but steadied as he slid closer next to me. "Can you…?" I lifted my head, clearing my hair out of the way. "Your arm." Why was my heart beating like a stupid school girl's? As if I had never laid in bed with him--or anyone else for that matter--and had them close enough to feel a heartbeat?

He easily shifted his arm so that I could use it as a pillow, his chest now firmly pressing into my back. "Comfortable?" His whisper was right next to my ear, purring there.

"Yes." That luckily came as a cue for him to unwind, his hands now focused on finding a natural way to hold me. I blamed the silence on settling in, finding the grooves in each other until we fit perfectly without that pregnancy pillow obstruction. Even as we lay there, now intertwined as much as we'd ever been, I could only listen to the starts and stops of his breathing that complimented my own. You said talk. It's not exactly what you're great at, but this is your chance, isn't it? To be honest to who you are for the first time in… "Brian never said things like that--that I was beautiful."

He tensed as an annoyed grunt broke by my ear.

"I always…" I closed my eyes, trying to refuse the idea of tears. "I always relied on him saying what was wrong and never expected him to tell me what was right. I was always improving, changing to fit his whims and I assumed that's what would keep him with me." I slid my hand over his and laced our fingers, trying to relax some of that desperate grip he'd adopted during my spew. "You're nothing like him--and that's a good thing--but I guess it just leaves me guessing because I don't think I've trusted my own intuition in years."

He sighed, a bit of warm breath tickling along my neck. "If you listen to your intuition now, what's it telling you?"

I barely resisted the urge to bite into my lip, allowing my mouth to spout the first thing that could come to my mind: "That I'm crazy to even wonder like I did today."

His reply came in the form of a sweet brush of a kiss against my shoulder.

"But that means…" Do it, Maka. Ask. Let it be what you want for once. "I think that means that I need you to keep telling me those kinds of things. Even if we're taking the rest slow, I need to hear that you're still… interested."

I didn't believe it was possible, but he curled into me a little more so his lips were leaving breathless whispers against my ear: "Then let me tell you… our first date- looking at you in that dress made me sure there was still some kinda want in me. I'd felt it more than once with you--especially the few nights before when we had our fight or whatever you wanna call it. But then when you reeled me in and kissed me and I let myself kiss you back…" A forlorn little sigh that made my heart grow wings broke his words. "That was the first time in seven years that anything below the belt sorta stirred. S'why I high-tailed it to my room." He let out a rueful laugh as he flexed his fingers in mine. "I was so fucking scared but happy at the same time."

I waited for more but he dipped his head against my shoulder instead, placing more soft kisses there. "For seven years you haven't…?"

Another scoffing sound scuttled against my shoulder. "No point. For the last year I was with her nothing worked and then when I was by myself… sorta didn't want to find out. Just assumed I was fucking broken." He nuzzled his face again before raising his head, letting his voice fall loud and clear again. "But I guess that's not true--not when I've been feeling that more and more."

That means he's turned on more and more by you! Get that through your thick skull! I could feel the heat of my cheeks changing color. "You're not broken, Soul."

"Maybe not. Maybe a little battered, but…" He kissed just below my ear, leaving his lips pressed there until the warmth from my blush had seeped to meet it. "Maka, if… if you're OK with it, I wanna keep touching you."

"Y-you are touching me-" fluttered embarrassingly quickly over my lips.

Even if I sounded childish, there was no laugh from him, only another heated sigh. "I know you'd wanna touch me back but… just for now, just for a little while until I work myself up to it--oh, fuck this sounds pathetic."

He started to curl away from me but I clutched his arm, half turning so I could see him as I strained my head over my shoulder. "Remember, there's nothing to be ashamed of." I let each word stamp between us before trying to calm myself with a breath. "What do you want to do?"

Red eyes blinked from surprise to pleading as his hand moved to cup my cheek. "Just let me prove to you that I want you and that… that I can do enough to make you feel good even if it isn't that."

Oh, Death, wasn't that just the most conflicting offer. Obviously, a month or so after Jack's conception was the last time I'd even contemplated sex. Afterward, there were a few fleeting times when I indulged with just myself, but that was what I believed the remainder of my life would consist of. Remember, there's no dating for a pregnant woman--and a single mother? Those pickings aren't exactly all that great either. I had basically settled on never being touched again, but here was the offer: honest and entirely the most I could dream for.

"Maka?" He prompted since I had been lost drowning in my own self-doubt, even though one look at him could tell me I wasn't alone.

"On one condition." I barely whispered that without squeaking.

His eyes narrowed but he nodded slightly.

I planted a hand over his, trying desperately to keep his touch as some kind of grounding. "We keep a tally."

Soul's eyebrows revolved, wrinkled to raised to wrinkled again. "You wanna make a chart?"

"For-for how many times I get this because it isn't fair," I gushed breathlessly because Death was I ever desperate for him to touch me, but my selfishness at least knew some bounds. "But I do want you to. Please."

All of the trepidation melted from his face as a soft laugh barely trembled over his lips. He leaned closer, not to kiss me but to rest his forehead against mine, a few more breathy chuckles leaving him. His fingers stroked my cheek. "Someday we'll make it even, but for right now, you trust me?"

What better answer for that was there than a kiss? I abandoned the pillow to roll onto my back, giving myself the reach to bring a hand into his hair. He didn't need the encouragement, toying immediately with my tongue in another desperate connection. His hand roamed carefully, palm running down my neck to my collarbone before tentatively gliding to the buttons of my shirt. I didn't want to leave the hold I had on him but I dropped my hand to stop him mid-button. "They're sort of sore."

I loved the way the unlatching of our lips had left him panting. "Got it." Without any more explanation, he slid the button back into its eyelet. "How about shorts?"

On the drift to my waistband, my hand caught on the swell of my stomach. For a second, I had forgotten, but that lingering thought struck me again: I'm not supposed to have this. I'd been so caught up I didn't notice that his hand followed mine, his palm pressing and continuing my journey. "Soul…"

His eyes were tensely focused on me as our joined hands met my shorts. "If it's what you want, Maka, I want to. And maybe…" His glance threatened to fall but he blinked back to focus on me. "It'll give me something to think about later."

Fresh color hit my cheeks as that dizzying electricity scattered along my skin at the edge of the elastic. A completely silly part of me was wondering: you'd think about that? As if my coming undone would be anyone's fantasy! Not with this globe of a stomach, dark nipples, stretch marks!

Suddenly, his fingers were lacing in mine, his eyes so deep that for a moment I was lost--entirely gone under his stare. It was that slick grin of his that pulled me back, surfacing again with an unsteady beat of my heart. "Not like it's hard to find something…" The smile disappeared as he leaned closer to steal a kiss. His whisper continued as his fingers nervously played with my own. "Your laugh. The way your hair curls when it's wet. That little line of concentration that pops up when you read." Another brush of our lips was the only thing that kept me from uttering a hopeless sigh. "Even this-" his pointer just wavered from my hand with a gentle tap to my belly "-I wouldn't trade. All I've ever wanted is more of it."

I untangled our fingers so I could shimmy out of my shorts. It wasn't an easy process but Soul waited patiently with lips running along my jaw and neck. His hand gently played in my hair, fixing sweetly even as I settled again. As soon as I relaxed into the sheets, his hand cupped under my chin, turning my head to make room for more kisses. Each one brought ease to my breath, unwinding my mind while still striking a match with each touch.

"You deserve to hear it." His murmur deepened the spell, making me start to drift in and out as his fingers tightened ever so slightly. "Because there's no end to how beautiful you are, Maka. I'm gonna show you that." He turned my face again, reeling me in for that final kiss--something better than the ones that woke princesses from deep sleeps or any other myriad of curses. Each movement of his lips was another thorn pulled from my heart- another painfully exquisite stitch to mend what I thought had been stolen from me.

Chapter 17: Another Bit of Mama

Notes:

tw: a little bit of sexual content (I'm a tease)

Chapter Text

I slid into the passenger seat, finding Papa oddly stiff behind the wheel.

"Thanks for picking me up." I tried out the most chipper tone I could manage. For some reason, memories of the night he told me about the divorce were echoing in the small cab.

"I'd rather you not drive anyway," he murmured before seeming to snap from whatever thought was strangling him. "Getting close to the due date, right?"

The car started to roll forward, scenery blurring by, but my attention was brought to the weakness in my father's smile. "This is my eight-month check-up. I'm glad you offered to come with me." I still wasn't entirely sure of the truthfulness in that statement, but I let it roll off my tongue anyway. Papa's little girl was suddenly rearing her ugly head--that old dream of loving my father unconditionally making the words sting. A sudden, terrible fear gripped me: Is Jack going to feel that way when he thinks about his father?

"I honestly thought your boyfriend would be doing this."

The grit in his voice was lost somewhere between my thoughts and the practiced reply: "Brian isn't a part of this anymore." I thought my terseness would bring an end to it, but I heard him sucking in air for the reply so I dug my fingers into the seat to try to steady myself for a fight.

"I wasn't talking about him." The sigh carried Papa's perfect combination of annoyance and dejection. "I'm talking about the boyfriend Marie told me about."

This was a grave I had dug for myself, but I wasn't exactly sure I was going to be buried so easily.

"A guy who can't be bothered to take you to appointments-" one hand sprang from the wheel to gesticulate towards the windshield "-but for some reason is actually going to show up at your baby shower? You'd think he'd realize which one was actually important! He-"

"Doesn't know," I spat.

"That you're pregnant?" He scoffed with eyes instantly rolling.

"That I have an appointment," I corrected before trying to sink my teeth into my lip to quell the flow. Instead, I dug my fingers deeper into the seat. "This is not his responsibility!"

"Of course it is," Spirit wasted no time in spitting back. "Maka, you're about to be a mother! You have to-"

"I have to!" The frustration of my cry rattled in the cab. "Soul does enough as it is without being at my beck and call!"

I could see the next scream starting on his lips but they pressed shut instead, leaving me only the color on his neck to clue me in to the storm still building. Papa had always disapproved of boys--no matter the irony of it--and had assumed that watching me like a hawk in that regard would somehow wipe his own slate clean. Wasn't it just a safe assumption that all the men of the world were just like him? Philanderers and liars abound, ready to ruin his precious daughter? I chewed bitterly on each thought as the drive continued in silence.

The engine finally cut, the parking lot surrounding us with the doctor's office within a few feet. Instead of a quick exit, Papa's grip stayed firm on the wheel. "It's not just about you anymore, Maka." This tone was one from my childhood--one from behind the privacy of those doors, only used when he and Mama had been on the cusp of the end. "It's about the baby too, and if he can't understand that-"

"You don't know him." It was as if Mama's voice was replying, ready to burn all the bridges between us.

"Yeah, I don't-" the agreement was ice water down my spine, making my head jerk towards him again to only see far-off eyes "-but I know the feeling. When there's a kid involved, your partner has to be a parent too. It's not easy to juggle being a parent and a partner, and unless the other person's going fifty-fifty with you then it just becomes too much." His eyes, always an echo of my own, hit me and expelled any argument I could even dream to concoct. "A baby's stressful. Being in love can be stressful. It only works when you have someone sharing that with you, not just trying to live the happy moments and nothing else."

Obviously, the argument still stood: Papa didn't know Soul. This was what Soul had been trying to do from the very beginning, desperately working to create a balance between happiness and helpfulness with me. The problem was… it doesn't matter how many times I might have said that Papa doesn't know a thing about me since it would always be a lie. This hadn't been about Soul the moment the conversation started; it was nothing more than Papa seeing the Mama in me that I so feared. "I'll talk to him-" barely warbled from my throat.

"Good." Papa's glare settled back towards the building. "Do you want me to come inside or wait out here?"

"Would you-" my voice still rattled but my hand moved with surety to grab one of his from the wheel "-would you like to come in and see Jack?"

His thumb ran over my knuckles. "Jack, huh?"

Our first grown-up book. "Jack. Haven't decided on the middle name yet."

"Running out of time," he murmured with a soft laugh. Papa withdrew from my grasp but a smile was finally catching on his face. "Let's go and see my grandson."


I sat in the darkness staring towards the balcony. I was only encouraging the ache in my spine by refusing to fall into the covers though I doubted any sleep would come until Soul was there. This schedule would wane soon--he'd taken that job and it wouldn't be long before we actually synced instead of looking for each other in the dark.

His pillow came into view first, then a leg and another as he crossed the divide between our two apartments. He turned and I could almost laugh at the way he jumped to attention. "Fuck, Maka, that's creepy! Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?" The balcony door slid and Soul entered, tossing his pillow next to me.

"We have to talk."

There was never a more dreaded phrase and his face, even in the dim moonlight, mirrored that fear. "OK… but can I turn on a light?" He motioned towards the nightstand but I was already reaching, flicking the switch and bringing his worry into better view. In the illumination, I could see him examining my face.

"I had my eight-month check-up today."

While fear might have kept him stationary before, his feet were suddenly on the move as he flopped to the bed and gathered up my elbows in his hands. "Did something happen? Is Jack OK?"

A bitter laugh bubbled up just as quickly as the tears did. Just like a new father, right? Worried about the baby.

That obviously did nothing to quell any of his terror, sending both his mind and his face into overdrive. "Shit, Maka, whatever it is-"

"No-" I steadied his searching hands while I mournfully whispered "-it's nothing like that. Jack's fine. He's actually getting a little too big. The doctor thinks it's sooner rather than later."

"Oh…" A little of the concern unwrinkled his eyebrows but his fingers still nervously worked into mine. "Then…?"

"I feel like I-" I puffed air from my lips but it didn't abate the urge to cry. Instead, a salty slick started down my cheeks. "I broke a promise to you."

His brow furrowed but he waited--always the listener.

A let out a shaky breath before squeezing his hands, urging the words to come with the pressure I got in return. "If I had asked you, would you have wanted to come to my appointment?"

Soul's mouth gaped slightly but he must have thought better of the words as it snapped shut again. After another moment--the revolutions of his thoughts obvious as his forehead wrinkled--he sighed. "Yeah, of course, but…" His head tilted slightly, leaning a little closer to catch my eyes that hadn't been all too eager to lock with his. "Don't think I'd want you in an appointment if all they were gonna do was poke and prod me."

"It's not that I didn't want you there…" I nervously nibbled into the inside of my cheek. Again, he offered me the space to sit in my anxiety until the words jumbled off my tongue. "It's just- that's a Jack thing and…"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't necessarily be doing something for Jack, just supporting you if you wanted it. I get why you wouldn't want me there though. Sorta the way I see it is, that's your body, and we only just started getting that far so…"

"But it wasn't about my body," I murmured. My eyes dropped to our hands. "I've been too much of my mama lately. Between the stupid idea of cheating and this…"

While I had expected another bout of silence, I got a plea from him instead: "Then tell me about this one too, so we can fix it." A fresh wave of tears started down my cheeks, but as I pulled my hands away to try to cover them, his came with it. Soul slipped past me, quickly cupping my face to catch the liquid and my glance. "Tell me."

A sigh warbled from between my lips. "I never told you about appointments or the baby stuff because I- that was my responsibility, not yours."

His eyes widened.

"A part of me was trying to keep it separate. I didn't want our relationship ruined because of all the… difficulty with Jack." I shook my head slowly, trying to rattle the rest of the thoughts free since they achingly clutched inside my mouth. "I mean, it's what I've been trying to do all along! I thought you wouldn't want me because of this and now even when you do admit you want me, all I can think of doing is still keeping it separate so you don't realize--Soul, do you really, really want this part of it? I made that promise to let you try, but following through--I'm scared to because if I do, you're just going to see that you don't actually want what you think-"

I don't think anyone has ever had the nerve to shush me, but Soul's thumb solidly blocked anymore from my mouth, pinning my lips together. "I know what I want." The urgency of that had me completely dumbfounded with no rebuttal or even a whisper to offer back as he slid his finger away. "Told you I knew the choice I was making from the beginning."

"Both of us?" The words barely made it up and out of my throat, mired in the murk of my fear.

"Both." He leaned forward, feathering a kiss on my lips.

I gave in to that urge to reach for him, letting my hands rest against the warmth of his heart so I could feel it with each steady beat. Maybe there was fear there for him too, but his rhythm never faltered. "Are you scared?"

"Hell yeah," he laughed and as he pulled back I could see a little mirth shining in his eyes. "I can change a diaper but the rest? Except that's one of the reasons I'm with you. Feels like you got enough courage for all of us."

A trickle of heat wrapped around my heart but fizzled as it constricted my throat so my voice sounded squashed. "I don't feel very courageous."

"I sorta thought you were starting to…" One hand moved into my hair, soothing back towards my neck. "But maybe you need someone to ask you. Think you could do that for me? For us?" His other hand fell to my stomach, stroking the swell. "S'alright to be brave about this too. I'm here--I'll support you however you need, but you're the brave one. I'm the scaredy-cat, remember?"

His grin-though still slightly tainted with self-deprecation-shot an arrow straight through my chest. Death, does he know what that smile does? "OK."

It was obvious he had no idea what that smirk of his did to me because it instantly brightened, leaving my heart to wobble against my ribs. "OK." He tenderly offered another kiss before his hands fell away. "Now lay down. Your back has to be hurting you."

Damn him and that x-ray vision.

"And don't sit like that in the dark again," he scolded as he stood, waiting for me to settle back into the bed. "Coulda swore you were going to start spouting Latin while your head swiveled three-sixty."

I snorted a laugh, the need for tears starting to ebb.

Once tucked in, Soul slipped next to me as if this was all we'd ever been doing, puzzle pieces that were meant for each other. His chest rumbled against my back as his throat cleared before his chin dipped to touch my shoulder. "He'll be here soon."

I hummed the affirmative, praying for more from that lockbox that was his heart.

"Sooner rather than later," he murmured as his hand slid along my hip to rest on Jack again. His fingers tapped like they were waiting for a reaction, something that usually came at Soul's touch anyway.

Jack knows who he is. Jack knows that… that if Soul stays, that's who's going to be his father. All but the last molecule of breath left me. I made that mistake in the car, didn't I? Thinking that Jack would feel the same way about his father as I do, but he won't. He won't if it's Soul. If Soul is what he knows… he'll only know how to love his father, not hate him.

"Wednesday's my last day at work, too-" he interrupted with a sigh that wasn't regretful "-but before that's your shower." I let him list, listening to it unwind him further. "You still OK with the idea?"

"I think I'm actually looking forward to it." I slid my hand over his, moving him towards Jack's latest acrobatics.

"Thanks." He massaged over the movement. "Been moving more lately."

"Hopefully that means he's just as anxious as I am for him to vacate the premises." I laughed softly and Soul echoed it before pressing a kiss against my shoulder. "Will you…?" There it was, the fear still calling for me to falter. But if Soul needed my bravery, I would be stupid to keep it from him. "Can you make sure you're there?"

His lips climbed up my neck, planting love with each movement. "I want to be." He nuzzled close, no longer any hint of that hesitation to his touches. "Jack's gotta behave though. With my luck, I'll be stuck in an elevator or something."

"Don't jinx it!" I groaned as I squirmed in annoyance.

His throaty chuckle ran along my neck, only making my body roll through another shutter. The movement wasn't unwelcome, that laugh turning into a grunt. That was when I felt it-him against me. While elation hit my heart, I felt him tense. "Sorry," he murmured as he tried to make room between us.

"Why?" I grasped his wrist before he could pull away completely and changed the trajectory, refusing to let him take away his body heat.

It wasn't some wonder-filled hum but more a groan, definitely filled with distaste for the words he was about to speak: "Dunno why."

"Don't." I tugged at his arm and he relented. "This… just doing this turned you on?"

"No 'just' about it," he muttered before sighing. "Sorta got a gut punch with that 'we have to talk' line so I guess my head's a little occupied with…" He groaned, discontented as the words seemed to stick to his lips. "Sounds fucking childish."

"What does?" I murmured as I settled against him again, unapologetic in my attempt to feel him rub against me.

He puffed air over his lips, heating my neck as he dipped his head there again. "You're mine." His hand snaked up between my breasts to rest on my sternum. "Again, it's childish, and I ain't saying I own you or anything like that but this-" his fingers ran gingerly over my collarbone "-touching you, in bed, at the end of the day, it feels like mine. Can't describe it any other way but it makes me want you, and with-well, with how good that tally of yours has been going maybe there's a little more to my confidence."

My cheeks heated at the reminder of my chart, definitely a few marks under my name as he'd proven piano translates well to other instruments. "But… not yet?"

"Dunno," he answered quickly. "I-doing what I do to you is easy. Thinking about you doing things to me? I dunno."

I slid my hand over his, tangling our fingers. "You can take your time, Soul."

"I know." His voice didn't seem at all filled with patience especially as the last word fluttered off in a sigh. "Guess that's why I'm sorry though. Doesn't really matter if I'm turned on if I'm not gonna-"

"Yes, it does!" I startled both of us with the shout as I actually shimmied loose and turned my head over my shoulder. "It's-well, I guess it's a compliment."

The matter-of-fact tone sent his eyebrow up in reply.

"I'm eight months along, Soul, as big as a whale-" I huffed "-and just laying next to me does it for you? Seriously, that's more than I can ask for. And on top of that, you're just proving again that it's both of us you're thinking about. You were worried about Jack and now you're obsessing about me."

"Obsessing's not exactly a compliment," he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

I sighed. "Maybe it gives me hope that you could think about it long enough to let yourself enjoy it." I prodded at his chest then let my hand slip gently downward. "Because it's great that you think about my enjoyment but what about yours?" My fingers stopped at the band of his shorts. "Let yourself feel good for once--especially without the judgment of whether or not anything is going to happen next."

He caught the edge of those words with his lips as his fingers wrapped around my wrist. It was just a slight movement that inched me towards the point where I could feel the outline of him through the fabric- to the point where a small, throaty, helpless groan passed from his mouth to mine. I let him control the speed and the caress. While maybe to others what passed in the darkness was nothing more than heavy petting like an early teen rendezvous in the backseat of a car, to me it was another turn in the lock that held his heart so tightly enchained. I think, just for a moment, Soul let himself feel and have what was his.

Chapter 18: Being in Love

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I'd never seen so many pastels in all my life. I thought I'd been exposed to enough soft hues--not saying my undergrad work was all peaches and cream--but this was enough powder blue to last a lifetime. The back room of the restaurant Viv and Marie had picked out was drenched in it. Even though that wasn't my normal color palette, I tried to bleed into the background and become another part of the wallpaper. Alright, part of that was my regular ol' run-of-the-mill social anxiety--you know, the fact that I still wasn't Wes and never would be.

The second part? Well, it was her day, right? Or maybe it was Jack's. I still wasn't exactly well-versed on this since I'd been saved from having to attend Viv's all those years ago by my mother still segregating the sexes. From what I could see, this was a day for the woman to be fawned over, for the gaggle of those who love her to prop her up with stories of her future bouncing baby boy and how wonderful he'd be. That was the point of today, not the new boyfriend--especially the one that wasn't the father--hovering around to steal a good segment of the attention. So I decided I'd lay low, just close enough that if she needed me I was an eyebrow's raise away.

"Here." Blake broke me from my spiraling thoughts as he leveled a bottle of beer with my nose. We'd already gotten past food and cake, but I could promise you the mimosa bar and beer were still flowing.

"Huh-" I smirked as I took the offering "-first time for everything, I guess." I had avoided drinking anything--hell, I was driving a pregnant woman--but at this point, one couldn't hurt, especially not when it was coming from the man who'd stolen more than enough from me.

"Don't get used to it," he muttered as he tossed himself into the chair next to me. "What's the point of these things?"

"Was honestly thinking the same thing…" We both paused for a sip and I was almost sure the conversation was going to die.

"You talk to Spirit yet?" There was a deeply irritating shine to his eyes as he managed the question with lips that were dying to grin.

"He's avoiding me." Without hesitation I jutted my chin out towards Maka's shadow, not changing a bit of my expression even as it earned me the attention of the red-head in question.

"Kinda surprising." To make matters worse, Blake tossed an enthusiastic wave in the direction of the group. While Maka's brow had that cute little wrinkle of confusion, her father's was a canyon of crankiness. "Usually by now, he's grilled any guy down to his brand of underwear."

"What does he even want to hear?" I muttered before kicking back another draft.

"I'm gonna go ahead and just answer: literally nothing you have to say. So don't sweat it." The neck of his bottle clicked to mine before he chuckled. "Seriously, the guy's gonna hate you for an eternity. Even after you marry her and knock her up with your own little white-haired babies."

I was a second away from a spit-take, luckily only leaving me heaving a bit of air in the bottle.

That only encouraged more of that annoying laughter, but just as I was about to knock an elbow into his side, it was cut off by that idiot's goofy grin projecting past me. "Took you long enough to get here. What? You find three hundred and thirty-three blueberries instead of a nice even three hundred and thirty-two and have to drive out to the farm?"

Blueberries? My head swiveled behind me just in time for my eyes to leap from their sockets. "Kid?"

"Oh…" Even after taking another glance around the room--his eyes definitely falling on the mess of baby attention at the front of the room--Kid still blinked at Blake in disbelief. "Am I in the right place?"

"Of course you are," Blake snickered as he waved to the seat next to me. "But how the fuck do you know each other?"

"He's my new boss-" fell out of my mouth as it sat slightly ajar "-but how the fuck do you know each other?" I was able to snap my jaw shut on that as I turned my attention back to Blake.

"Three of us grew up together." His finger easily swished from Kid to himself to Maka.

"Our parents are all work associates," Kid amended as he carefully arranged himself in the chair.

"Small fucking world," I mumbled as I threw a hand through my hair. "But… how do you know Viv then?"

His head tilted as he started to fix the table cloth, an adventure that I thought was going to take all his processing power but his voice started steadily: "I assume you know your sister-in-law well."

"I guess…" Maybe I should have had a little more confidence, but it always seemed like no matter how well you knew Viv, you didn't. She had always been one of those people that cares for every last one around her but when it comes to letting herself be taken care of? Well… that's a whole other story.

"So then you know about Rémy." Any work of Kid's fingers stopped, instead tensing into the cloth.

"Well, yeah," I answered glumly. Her brother was the other uncle that Reggie should have in his life. Viv had never really gotten that much into it--and I'm definitely not one to force it out of her--but I knew what Wes had told me: Rémy killed himself a month before Wes and Viv met. That party we'd all been at was the first time Viv had been out of the house since the funeral.

"Rémy and I met at the hospital--after the first time." I could hear the forced clinicality to that but before I could even try to offer some kinda social nicety, he interrupted: "But what are you doing here?" Kid's voice was never soft and endearing, sorta always half an accusation, and that one gave me a little heat under my collar.

"I'm, uh, dating Maka." Maybe a little swell of pride rumbled up in my chest at the words, but of course, something like that was destined to be short-lived.

"No-" came back with all the certainty of reading it out of a textbook "-you're not."

"Kid-" Blake started but Mr. Analytical's gears were already too busy turning.

"Brian McKenna has been with Maka for-"

"Kid-" Blake was hissing but it didn't do an ounce of good.

"What?" He snapped at the other man's annoyance, not even registering the greying around my gills. "I even asked Maka, and she verified that it was Brian who-"

"Kid-" Even though the name wasn't mine, it was my chest that Blake's hand smacked into. "This is Soul-fucking-Evans, and he's dating Maka now, and he's helping with the baby. Get on the same page."

The mechanisms in Kid's brain were obviously in overdrive as his eyes darted between Blake and me. "You never introduced yourself with the 'fucking.'"

Blake's snickering fed my own gritty laugh, letting some of the worries of Kid's comments melt away. The name had already stuck, though--Brian McKenna--and I couldn't stop my brain from saving it away for later. For what, I didn't know, especially since my mind had no time to consider nefarious deeds as the man of my nightmares was walking over.

"Kid, nice of you to come." Spirit offered a hand--something he hadn't done for me, just so you know--and the two of them shook a little less than cordially.

"I apologize for being late."

"Nah, nice to have you-" Spirit's voice was all light and joy as he dumped himself into the seat next to Kid. "Have you said 'hello' to Maka? She's glowing."

Blake rolled his eyes and I struggled not to do the same.

"I actually wanted to confer with Soul for another minute." Kid waved over at me, unknowingly unlocking the flood gates. "He's seeing Maka."

"I know," Spirit snapped back before huffing. "But for some reason he's sitting over here playing the perfect little wallflower instead of showering my daughter with the attention she deserves."

OK, dig taken. I couldn't actually deny what I was doing, but one quick glance at Maka told me I wasn't exactly in the wrong. Anytime our eyes met it was just another soft smile, another sweet little wave or something to tell me she knew I was there. So smitten little me wasn't exactly going to take that much of the accusation lying down: "Sorry, I thought we both knew your daughter could handle herself. And it ain't like it's a pack of wild dogs--these are her friends. She doesn't get to see 'em all that much so if she needs me-"

It wasn't just Blake's snickers that cut me off but Spirit's guffaw. "Well, leave it to you to forget about the baby again. Listen, Maka's one thing, but my grandson-"

"Told ya not to sweat it, Mr. Cool-" Blake snuck in with a grating whisper next to my ear that only fueled the fire in my gut.

"Again?" I spat. "Never forgot about him the first time, so I don't-"

Spirit leaned across Kid, making sure his finger waggled just enough to get close to my face. "Oh, is that why you never went to any of her appointments?"

Blake whistled before whispering again, "Last warning, Mr. Cool…"

"Listen, that's between me and-"

"Boys." I knew that voice but definitely not the tone, and when I swiveled my head, I found Marie staring us all down like a Yakuza member in a club. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Spirit grumbled as he instantly crumpled back into the seat.

Alright, I knew I should just follow suit, take my scolding, and just go back to zinging smoldering vibes Spirit's way the rest of the party but… No. Just fucking no. "Yeah, there is-" instead of venom, I turned my head towards Spirit and tried to deliver the most charged sentence I'd ever uttered "-because I want you to get this straight: I love Jack. Being with your daughter is one thing, but your grandson is another and I know that. Trust me, loving Jack has been the easiest thing I've ever done, so I don't appreciate the insinuation that I don't." Even though I could feel the icy exhaust, I sent my eyes back to Marie only to find her smiling.

She turned the same smile to Spirit. "I think Mr. Cool said enough, don't you, Spirit?"

Blake's snorting laugh was enough to overpower the grumbles coming from Spirit's direction.

Mirthful brown eyes turned back to me. "Now, would you mind packing some of the stuff up? I think Maka's starting to get tired."

"Yeah." I nodded with all the surety I could manage as I got to my feet, only offering parting glances to Blake and Kid. I took long, quick strides over to her, slowly unwinding as her smile blossomed with each step closer.

"Everything OK?"

"Fine," I murmured. All I wanted to do was scoop her up and out of the chair and squeeze her until I could convince myself of that. Instead, I rested a hand on her head, smoothing a little of her hair. "Just thinking I should try to get some of this in the car before you drown in boxes. What goes first?"

She hummed thoughtfully as her head moved against my hand to look back and forth. "The big stuff, I guess? Definitely the crib."

"I'll start with that and see what room's left." I tried for a little enthusiasm but as my eyes followed hers to the box I wasn't exactly hopeful. The inside of the little compact she'd let me drive her over here in wasn't exactly spacious. I played with her hair just for a second longer before starting the trek over to the box and hefting it into my arms. Luckily the door was propped open--probably by Marie--so it just took a sidestep to get me outside and into the parking lot.

"Soul?"

I bristled. This was co-ed, and Viv had planned half of it, but I'm not gonna lie and say I hadn't hoped my brother would stay at home. Instead, it was his steady footsteps coming up behind me and his hand reaching for the keys clipped to my belt. "Thanks."

"Now, if you're worried about room, you have to know that Viv's already thought of this." The fob beeped and Wes took a few hurried steps to get in front of me and open the trunk of Maka's car. "We took separate cars today since I'm supposed to chauffeur whatever's leftover."

I rested the box on the opening as I chuckled softly. "Yeah, shoulda guessed."

His laugh was tighter than mine, trickling off as I stood staring at the crib box. "It seems like Maka got everything she needed."

"Yeah." My agreement fluttered towards the box again but at least I could motivate myself to finagle it into the space. This is always how it is, isn't it? That stupid 'how's the weather' type of bullshit. I didn't want to look at him, but honestly I knew I had nowhere to go. One way or another I'd see that same old face, the beaming surety that always brought me some sick mix of jealousy and sadness that I couldn't quit. As I finally got the crib in place I turned my head over my shoulder.

Except I swear it wasn't my brother I was looking at--it was me. Scared, unsure, with a million different words on my tongue that I knew weren't going to be right. I blinked, and while the picture was now definitely Wes it was still all the same emotions washing his features out. "Soul, I'm sorry."

"For what?" The question instantly dropped from my mouth without a filter, sorta still sitting in shock of seeing that face.

"Viv always knows," he murmured forlornly as he threw a hand back towards the party. "She just knows what you need before you even need it and she's only known you for a few years and here I am, your brother and I can't even-" The way his voice halted was just another echo of one of the million times I'd tried to talk to him.

"Wes, it's-it's OK."

"No, it's not." He threw a hand into his hair before dropping his eyes to the trunk. "I'd just like to stop disappointing you."

Disappointing me? My jaw could have scraped the floor. "I-I'm not disappointed." I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified that my life's not right--and that that's what you think. That I'm some kind of disappointment.

"Then could you just talk to me?" The desperate question made his voice hit a peak I'd never heard from him before. A horrible sigh clattered after it before he turned halfway towards the building to lament at the parking lot. "And here I am just making it worse because today's supposed to be about Maka--about you, but I can't stop being selfish."

"Wes." For a terrifying moment, my hand seemed to move on its own to clutch into his shirt sleeve like I was still in kindergarten. "It's the other way around."

He blinked at my hand and when it didn't disappear he followed it to my face with the same surprise echoing in his own voice. "What?"

"I wish I could stop disappointing you." I dropped my hand from him, letting it fall so I could clutch uselessly at my leg like that was going to hold me together. My gut was screaming to make a run for it, to make some excuse about packing the cars and just forget I'd let out that bit of emotional vomit.

"What?" That word came up broken and crumbling from his throat as his eyes went wide.

"Ever since…" There was a fist tightening around my throat, making the rest just a pathetic huff of air. Ever since I tried to be just like you. I was sure that I could copy it all perfectly--the smarts, the talent, the girl--but I was wrong.

"Soul, I am not mother and father-" that came with such cold surety I wasn't even sure Wes had said it except that I had watched the words fall pointedly off his lips "-and I think the only time I was ever disappointed was when you gave up the piano--or at least I thought you did." Any of the chill had drifted away with the warmth of his smile. "That was a piece of you that was always singularly yours."

I thought I'd find some pride in that, but it was the swelling reply from my heart that made me actually want to beam: Nah, Wes, now it's ours. Me and Maka. It's a piece of me I get to share with her that no one else gets. "Don't worry, I'm gonna keep playing."

"Good," Wes's smile grew with the reply. "Especially since it's always something to try when you're at your wits' end with a screaming baby."

My eyes drifted back towards the crib. "Somehow, I ain't too worried about that."

Wes hummed knowingly. "No, I suppose not. Let's get the rest."

I turned back in time to catch his back starting away from me. The distance was still there--old wounds refusing any quick healing--but at least there was a string pulling me back to him. It was strange how all it took was seeing that my brother wasn't invincible--that underneath it all he and I were actually the same.


There wasn't really an inch of walking space left in the living room. My ass was mostly in the entryway as I sat to ponder the crib instructions.

"Soul," Maka murmured with a giggle as her knees tapped into my back. "He's not coming tomorrow."

"Yeah, but…" I motioned towards the assortment but my eyes refused to leave the schematics. I wasn't entirely sure what I was getting at since my mind was still all on arrows and screws.

Her sigh gently drifted down to me before she nudged my back again. "I think I'm going to take a shower."

"OK. I'll be here," I muttered to the paper. Maka's warmth left my back but only a few footsteps sounded before utter silence again. I broke from the spell of directions to twist, catching her watching me from the doorway of her bedroom. "Or I could-I'll leave if you need me to."

"No, it's not that…" She leaned against the doorway, her blonde hair cascading perfectly with the tilt of her head. I was kind of lost in that for a minute, almost missing the second half of her sentence: "Papa told me what you said today."

I didn't know what was worse: reliving the argument in my head or the way there was no describable emotion on her face. "I didn't mean to fight with him…" I whispered dummy as my eyebrows furrowed.

Thankfully a bit of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I don't think you could have avoided fighting with him, honestly. I'm not angry, it's just… what you said about Jack."

"Oh…" I shrugged, at least that part of the conversation not bringing back an ounce of shame. "It was the truth."

"I know it was." Her smile blossomed a little more but it didn't seem like her eyes were catching on as they trailed down to the swell of her stomach. "Thank you, I guess." She planted a palm against her stomach. "It sounds stupid, but thank you."

"It's not stupid." The paper drifted from between my fingers as I got to my feet. "Maka, are you OK?"

"Uh, yeah-" she laughed that off almost as quickly as I said it as she waved me away with her other hand. "I'll feel better after I shower, that's all. Go ahead and ponder the crib, but don't go crazy." She warned me quickly with a turn of her heels before disappearing into the bedroom.

I took one more step, eyeing her through the open door as she grabbed her robe and made her way back towards the door. "Maka, can I-"

"Soul, seriously-" all of the amiability was back on her face as she clutched the terry-cloth to her chest "-it's not like you can shower for me!" Her laughter muted anything I had in reply and so did her movements, slipping into the bathroom before I could even arrange an argument.

But something was wrong. This wasn't the Maka from the entire baby shower--on cloud nine in the group of people she loved. There was something muddled about her now, maybe even unsure. I listened to the shower start and sighed as my eyes flipped indecisively between the crib, the bathroom, and the bedroom. I was literally at a crossroads, but what fucking direction I was supposed to take was beyond me.

She's not mad about her dad.

I took a few footsteps back to the open crib box, plunking down in front of the directions.

Something was off about her thank you though--a thank you for loving her son.

I sighed and while my fingers flicked at the edge of the paper, I didn't grab it.

What are you going to do, Soul Evans? What are you supposed to do?

I touched my phone over the fabric of my pants, pondering calling Viv. That was a cop-out though, wasn't it? I couldn't expect Viv to know every in-and-out of Maka and even if I was asking from the you've-been-pregnant-before perspective that was still me taking the easy way out. Instead, I did what I did best, overanalyzing every last second of our day for the message. The only problem seemed to be the age-old one: What--or more like who--had today been for? The whole day was Jack, Jack, Jack, and there was Maka still afraid, still trying to have some kind of autonomy and no one was giving it to her. Maka spent the day being Jack's mom and only that. And here I was, the boyfriend who was supposed to adore her, be there for her, and I'd fallen into the same trap.

I heard the shower shut off and like the good ol' guard-dog I was, I waited and watched. She opened the bathroom door, her robe wrapped tightly around her. Not even a glance was offered my way before she rushed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. I could remember letting this happen a million times before--words easily left unsaid and discussions never had for the sake of not rocking the boat. Honestly, a small part of me was really begging to do the same so that the little I did have right now wasn't going to be in jeopardy. Except if Maka had taught me anything, it was that taking a chance was better than standing still. I tried to hear my own words in the back of my head as I stood and walked towards the bedroom: making a decision--good or bad--is brave, or at least braver than the alternative.

I knocked.

There was utter silence for a moment before her voice pitched upward: "I'm not dressed."

"I-I know." I let a withering, fearful breath flutter over my lips as my palm pressed against the door. It only got to rest there for a second before the door popped open, creaking in a slow arch to reveal her still clutching tightly to her robe. "I'm also sorta guessing that you're not alright," I murmured.

She sighed as one of the fists that had been working into the cloth unraveled so she could cover her eyes. "It's stupid."

"Doubt that, but…" I dared to take a step, finding her still enough that I could get one hand hovering near her hip. "Can I touch you?"

She hiccuped a bitter little laugh as she moved to meet me, her head planting against my chest while my arm moved to wrap around her waist. "You didn't do anything wrong."

That brought at least a drift of relief, urging me to wrap my other arm around her. I let out a slow breath at her hairline before replacing it with a kiss. "What can I do?"

There didn't seem to be an answer for that, just a few sniffles as she pressed her face against my chest. Maka just latched and held while my hands easily smoothed up and down her back. I wasn't exactly counting the minutes, but after some time, she tilted her head to let the words ring against my neck: "Kiss me."

It was hard for me not to follow that request, especially when I pulled away enough to see those beautiful jade eyes trying to pull me in, but I sighed all the same. "Maka, if there's something wrong-"

Apparently, it was more of an order since her lips were on mine with a heated urgency that threatened to zap away any sense I had left. I knew I had to hit the brakes, but at least in those few moments before I did I tried to give her just as much fervor as she was sending my way. While one arm still steadied her around the waist, the other hand sunk into her hair, letting her linger until I pulled her away at least for a breath. "That helps," she murmured.

Maka was already trying to dive back in but I just kept her kisses at bay with my fingers still tangled into her damp tresses. "Helps what?"

"How jealous I can get," she murmured with a rueful laugh against my lips.

"Jealous?" Death, between Wes's disappointment and this, I was thinking I was going to need to invest in a dictionary. "Maka, jealous of what?" I could have shaken her, especially as she blinked back a few tears.

"When you kiss me like that…" her voice broke into a little whimper as she bit cutely into her bottom lip "... it makes me think you could…" I was hanging on every last syllable since none of it was making sense to me. "Soul, kiss me like that again."

She was resisting the hold I had in her hair and between the request and the way she was tipping her body into mine maybe there wasn't a lot of self-control on my end. I was confused, I wanted answers, but her kiss pulled me back in like a tornado. I'm definitely not exactly a strong man and the way her hands were creeping under my shirt was making all the rest of my logic dissolve.

No, no, no, no letting this get away! Be brave, you stupid idiot! "I-if this is about-" Oh, Death, I had no idea what this was about and the way she was hanging off of me wasn't helping.

"I told you, it's stupid," she whispered as she finally let her cheek come to mine. Her voice lingered so closely- so fucking sweetly against my ear. "I'm impatient. I'm just- I'm so ready for you to say those kinds of things about me just as easily as you can say them about Jack."

Oh. I swear to Death maybe my brain flatlined for a solid minute. OH! Of course, I'd fucking spouted "I love Jack" like it was a footnote in the ten commandments but Maka and I had never-not once discussed anything beyond the us being together part. Obviously, my feelings for Jack and my feelings for Maka were different-they had to be-but…

"I know it's too early-" another weak laugh trickled from her throat "-and I don't expect you to. We were friends first, and that came with certain feelings but-"

I didn't want that but so I caught it with my mouth before she could get there. I love you--those damn words--was something I'd said before, something I'd heard before. I understood it with Viv, with Reggie, sometimes with Wes, but the way it'd been said with Clara… I hadn't thought I'd been lying when I said I wasn't good at loving someone since no matter how hard I tried, Clara's definition of love wasn't something I could create.

So did I love Maka? I wanted to know everything about her, and the panic of her knowing even the darkest shit about me was starting to fade. I wanted to support her whenever she asked, and I wanted to actually let myself rely on what she could give me. I wanted to stay with her as long as she'd let me, and I wasn't about to let any of the old shit get in the way of that. And I wanted my kiss to feed her every last bit of those thoughts.

There was no way to ignore my body either. This wasn't a time for those early wonderings of my wants, instead, my hands were eager to bunch up that terry cloth. There was an eruption of warmth as that layer came away between us, now just my button-down keeping skin from skin. The idea must have echoed to her mind because those hands that had been so searching along my back were trying to find a way to shimmy between us to my buttons. "Is it- can I?"

I gave her enough distance to let her hands in, one eyelet already gone as my eyes searched every inch of her face. She was a brilliant pink, her eyes not meeting mine but focused on the shirt between us. "Maka, I-I don't mind it's just-" We'd never been entirely naked. I mean, if anything, we'd acted more like exploring teens than I had when I was an actual teen, but besides what I'd done to Maka, none of it had ever required me getting undressed. I was sorta starting to spiral on the logistics when Maka's eyes finally shot to mine.

"Soul-" Oh, Death, could you ever lose yourself in that beautiful jade when they were just burning at you "-no matter what happens, or what doesn't happen, my feelings for you aren't going to change."

There was a definite wobble to my knees as my heart jittered up into my throat. That's right, I'm safe. Maybe that was odd, but I guess that was the part of love I'd never had before. Even with my family, love had always felt inconsistent, always earned rather than part of an equal exchange. I could believe her that no matter what: I'd get back what I gave. "Go ahead."

My glance didn't drift to my buttons since that was now obviously a job she was taking care of with intense interest but into the opening of her robe. While she was busy, I moved my hand from the small of her back to the opening, letting my palm meet the smooth skin of her side. She rewarded me with a sweet sigh and an even sweeter whisper: "You have a nice chest."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "You think?"

"Don't tease me," she muttered.

"Don't tease me," I murmured back. Before I could do anything with my hands, hers were tugging the shirt down my arms, making me release her. "I ain't all that-"

"I swear to Death if you're going to try to say you're not handsome," she spat with just enough fury to get me to laugh. "Between that your smirk, or your eyes-"

With my shirt abandoned and my hands free, I tilted her chin up and caught any more embarrassing compliments with my lips. I didn't have all that much brain space to be bashful though since all logical thought was thrown away as soon as our skin touched. It didn't matter the shape or the angles that cut between us as I shimmied into the opening in her robe so I could get as much contact as possible. I just wanted to feel her, to experience as much of it as I could because I knew no matter where we got by the end of the night, neither of us was far away from being in love.

Notes:

Friends, sorry for the wait. I have some person stuff on my plate right now, so I may be flakey with posting for a little while. I do have another chapter of ILN in beta though and I don't expect to quit this fic any time soon. Just keep all your fingers and toes crossed.

Chapter 19: Earth to Soul

Notes:

sexual content ahead!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I could blame my wandering mind on a lot of things--it was a Monday, not to mention my last week at work--but it was that word. Love. Every time I looked at the terrace, it was to see her there: a ghost from our first date. If someone brushed past me, it brought back the fleeting memory of her hands on me. When I closed my eyes, it wasn't darkness but some picture of her. In other words, I had Maka on the brain and there was no way to dampen it since our schedules were still off. Meeting anywhere but in the middle of the night in bed wouldn't happen until at least Thursday and…

I sorta couldn't stop thinking about sinking my hands into her hair.

Or how unbelievably soft her skin was.

Or feeling her nails dig into my shoulder while I-

"Earth! To! Soul!"

I jumped out of my skin and almost half over the bar, only adding to Liz's exasperation.

"I get it, you're almost free, but at least give me your attention until then." She slapped the drink order that was already stuck to the counter again.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I slid it out from under her fingers and actually got back to work.

Instead of leaving me to mix, she leaned over the bar. "Nothing's wrong with the baby, right?"

"You just saw her at the shower." I tried to chuckle away the worry in her voice.

"OK, but that stuff is delicate, isn't it?" I shrugged, leaving Liz to hum out thoughtfully before leaning even closer. As if she would ever quit. "Did something happen with you two?"

"We're at work-"

"Technically, we're in a bar!" That was a teasing, joyful chime that just about raised every hair on the back of my neck. "A good something?"

I knew my blush was answering for me since not only could I feel the heat all the way to my ears, but her smile was blossoming.

"So you're just daydreaming!" She gently nudged my shoulder with less than her usual punch. "That's so cute!"

"Ridiculous," I muttered. I finished the Manhattan and started on G&T as she continued to wiggle with anticipation. "Nothing big."

"Yeah, right!"

"That's all I'm saying," I hissed before clanking the next glass to the counter. "A real lady doesn't kiss'n'tell." That had her in stitches, bringing back a little bit of breath. It was hard not to feel the worry filtering in between us since the inevitable was coming. "Anyway, I saw you two exchanging numbers at the shower, so you should just pump her for information from now on."

"That's right, you're divorcing us," Liz lamented. The last of the drinks--some pink mess of sweet liquor the place had so disgustingly named A Cupid's Kiss--hit the table before she lifted the tray. "And I hope you know I am going to ask her."

I rolled my eyes, but a grin still pulled at the corners of my mouth.

That sassy little sashay Liz had perfected brought her away from me, but I still followed the drink order as she went. Maybe I was trying to distract myself--keep my brain on the job for at least another minute--but I could swear I was just looking at another mirage.

Except this one wasn't a ghost of my affection but instead my utter hatred: Liz was putting that G&T on the table in front of a tall man who turned to her with bright blue eyes.


That poor new-hire Kilik they'd found to replace me was probably dreaming of scenarios in his head as to the perfect way to murder me, but I had to jet to the storeroom. I was five minutes into my fifteen and I still hadn't come up with even a corner of a plan. Brian McKenna was here. I'd at least had enough sense to try to ask Tsu as low-key as I could about what was up with that table-"just another lawyer-client smooze session"-but after that, I'd come up dry. Was I supposed to hide? Hope he didn't see me in all my bartender glory?

My phone was burning a hole in my palm. Maka's contact was blaring on the screen but after another minute I flicked until I got to one I wasn't exactly expecting--even worse, he picked up on the first ring. "Mr. Cool! Thought you were still at work."

"I am," I croaked but anything else I had planned fluttered away. Why did I call him of all people?

"Uh, so…?"

"Brian's-" I spat.

"Tell me that asshole's not with Maka right now." The bangs in the background started almost instantly, meaning he was either tornadoing through his apartment or on his way out the door to kick ass. "I swear if he's at that apartment-"

"No, he's here." The flood started up my throat with no cap to keep it down. "He's at the hotel having a business dinner with some fucking client. Here--of all fucking places--and I can't stop looking at that smug fucking face without wanting to knock the shit out of him."

"Then do it-" came with a wave of Blake's cackles.

"Dude…" Sure, that was a complaint but a weak one. Honestly, I wanted to do it--exactly why my brain probably went to Blake in the first place.

"Yeah, yeah," he griped right back. "I get it, you don't want to piss her off-"

Or get arrested, idiot.

"-but if you don't, I will. Or maybe even Kid."

Kid? I let out a puff of a laugh. Imagining him swinging was a little out of the realm of possibility for me.

"At least tell me you're willing to fuck with him a little."

I toed the concrete for a second. "You got an idea?"

"Duh," Blake crooned before laughing again. "Listen, next round of drinks, you bring 'em. Hell--don't wait for the order, just bring 'em on the house."

I rolled my eyes even if he wasn't going to benefit from seeing it. "How is that gonna piss him off?"

"You don't know Brian," Blake snickered. "The second he sees you--Mr. Part-time bartender--acting like you know him and should be friendly with him and that you stole his girl? Pfft."

My stomach lurched, spilling the words that should have been a thought: "Yeah, as soon as he sees he lost to a loser."

"A loser?" That came even more viciously than his offer to deck Brian for me. "Who the fuck are you calling a loser in this equation?"

"I'm-"

But there wasn't a way for me to get another syllable out before he was booming back at me: "You think his lawyer bullshit means anything? We're talking about the guy who doesn't want to be a father if he can't control his girlfriend. I know you're not stupid--I know you see the way Maka had it with him. Except maybe you don't see the other side like I do. That's where I see a guy who didn't have to give a shit but did out of the goodness of his heart. I see a guy who my best friend chose to raise her son. She didn't have to do that. And what the hell do you think would happen if you went ahead and told her she chose a loser?"

I barely choked down a swallow at the idea. She'd kill me. Probably yell at me an hour straight.

"And yeah, Brian's going to think you're a fucking loser, but who the hell cares? You're going to show him that you see him--hell, you see him seeing you and you don't give a fuck. Because at the end of the day, you're the one she chose, not that fucker."

"Yeah," I croaked.

"Damn, Mr. Cool, c'mon, say it a little louder."

"Alright," I sighed out with a little more gusto.

"I mean, that was pathetic, but I guess I'll take it." His laughter reverberated through the phone again. "Anyway, I like you better. Bartender or working for Kid, you're still pretty cool."

"Thanks." I managed half of a smile. "And thanks for--I dunno--talking."

"Best decision you ever made," he crowed. "I'm a God at this kinda shit. Now go and show that asshole who's really a loser."


Carrying a tray wasn't really my thing and I could just imagine toppling the drinks onto Brian and the table as I tried to make smooth steps towards them. Doom was hanging over my shoulder- a little demon gnawing at my ear. Except a little bit of Blake's barking was still echoing in my head. Maka chose me. Whatever I am, even right now, is better than whatever he's ever been. I swallowed, pulling in breath to force a voice I hadn't heard in a while: "I thought that was you, Brian."

The dark swirl of hair swiveled away, leaving shocked blue eyes to hit my signature smirk.

"Drinks on the house." I started to unload from the tray while making sure to spread that greeting around the table.

His mouth pinched into a tight frown for just a flash before mimicking enough of my smile. "I didn't know you worked here."

"A friend of yours?" One of the grey-haired suited men next to him made sure to look me up and down before asking.

Prick. That still couldn't kill my grin as I flashed it between him and Brian. "He actually knows my girlfriend pretty well." I borrowed one of my brother's chuckles. "Not that I'm worried. You know the baby's due next month, right?"

"Yes," he answered tightly as his smile faltered.

"Really excited, you know? My sister-in-law just threw a shower for her." I raised my eyebrows quizzically. "Surprised you didn't come."

"If I had known I would have sent a gift," he hissed through tight teeth.

"Nah, not necessary." I waved him off like a fly. "Maka's got everything she needs now."

"Maka? Did he say-" I heard the older man murmur as I turned tail. There wasn't a more perfect note I could end on.

That's right. Maka has me.


"Maka," I murmured her name as tenderly as I could while I slid into bed. She purred out some cute little sleep-ridden hello as I tangled up next to her. I didn't miss that pillow for a fucking second. "Maka, wake up."

She groaned slightly as her hand fixed the hair away from her face. "What time is it?"

"Late-" I whispered before planting a kiss on her neck "-so I'm sorry, but something happened today."

Any of that slow sleepiness was zapped away as she tried to roll over. "Are you OK?"

I tipped her my way, hoping that what little of my smile she could see in the dark would drive away some of the panic. "I think? I dunno. Guess it sorta depends."

"What do you mean?" Her hands were already searching sweetly over my cheeks, cupping them like she had tears to clear.

No matter that ounce of victory I was still carrying, I could feel my grin falter. "Ran into Brian today."

"Where?" It sounded like a plea and her fingers were only seconding it with their soft caresses against my jaw.

"He was at the hotel having dinner with a client, I guess." I ran a hand up her side, trying not to let the idea of her t-shirt bunching under my fingers stick.

"Did you…?"

"Talk to him? Yeah." I sighed. "That piss you off?"

"Depends on what you said," she murmured. It wasn't sleep or love softening her eyes right now, just that hard appraisal that made my heart clang against my ribs.

"I was… a little bit of an asshole." I laughed ruefully. "Sorta said he knew my girlfriend pretty well when his work associate asked how we knew each other."

Her lips pursed for a moment before her voice came flatly. "Older, maybe sixty-ish with a mole right here?" Her thumb pressed right below my lip on the right side of my face.

"Yeah."

A puff of air broke her lips before she poked the spot again. "That was his boss, Soul."

"Yeah, well," I muttered before turning towards her finger. I brushed a kiss across the tip. "Sorta… reminded him Jack's almost here and…"

"And?" she butted in with all the patience of a kindergartener at Christmas.

"And that there isn't anything you need."

She closed her eyes with a sigh.

"Sorry." I couldn't stop that from being half-hearted since I wasn't. A part of me still knew Brian was practically getting away with murder and that made me want to-

"You're not," she murmured as she pulled the truth right out from between my ears.

"Guess I'm just sorry if it hurt you, that's all." My fingers trembled as they reached for her, uselessly pressing a curl of hair behind her ear. "You angry?"

"Yes and no…" With another slow breath, her lashes parted to show me a calm I wasn't expecting. "I do have everything I need." Her fingers were on a drifting search to my chest, worrying into the front of my t-shirt. "Right here."

A bit of pride was swelling up under her palms so I pushed forward, stealing a brush of my lips to hers.

She sighed a little more sweetly this time. "But I don't want you saying another word to Brian about Jack." Fingers tensed, biting slightly at my skin. "I know the chances of you running into each other again is hopefully slim but… if Brian decides he really wants to fight this, Soul, it will be a fight."

Let him- wanted to growl right off my tongue but I bit it.

"I-I honestly want him to keep believing…" An achingly slow breath trembled from her mouth instead of the continuation. I touched another tendril of her hair, tucking it sweetly behind her ear to give her the strength. "Well, you heard him--he thinks that Jack is yours. That I'm no better than my father because what guy is going to take care of a girl who's pregnant with someone else's child?" That question was as bitter as burnt ends.

It was my turn to sigh so that my jaw would relax from the clench of the question. "So somewhere along the way, you cheated with me? How the fuck does anyone believe bullshit like that?" The second half was a harsh mutter but it still brought a wobbly smile to her face.

"It's fine, Soul." She dipped closer, a shaky breath warming me before her kiss. Burying closer to me, Maka kept latching, refusing to give space or air as she tangled her tongue with mine.

I wanted to get lost in it but I cupped my hand under her chin instead, pulling her away. "Hey-"

"Maybe I want to believe the same thing." Her whisper was smaller than the chance that could be reality. "Why didn't I meet you years ago? Why didn't I-"

"Don't do that," I cut into her whimper as my fingers moved to caress her jaw. "I used to be a bit of an asshole, so I doubt knowing me back then would have done any good." I could afford a little amusement in my laugh, so I let it ring. "We can't change what it is, Maka, and I don't want to. Don't get me wrong--I've wondered what it would have been like if it'd been you from the start, but…" There was no stopping the sigh for lost chances. I wasn't lying--I'd imagined her in Clara's place plenty of times. "Let him think Jack's mine because there's no chance in hell he's not gonna be."

Her kiss came like a tidal wave again regardless of any grip I had on her. It only slowed for a sweet little hiccup from her, making my fingers move to clear the tears from her cheeks that I knew must be there. "What if he looks like him?"

"Then he does-" I murmured as I nuzzled my nose to hers "-but that doesn't make a difference to me."

"What if-"

I cut that off with a kiss--not that desperate assault she had for me earlier but just a slow, sweet latch to keep her from giving any more of those thoughts life. "No more, Maka." I countered the harshness of that with another soft brush of my lips. "You gotta get some rest, anyway. Told you it was late." Her cheeks were still glossy when I pulled away, so I took some time to rub off the shine. "Turn over. I wanna hold you for a while."

Without argument--maybe just a sniffle or two--she turned over in the bed and fit her back against my chest. "Don't talk to him again," she murmured.

"Alright," I sighed back as I brought my lips closer towards her ear. I wanted to toss Brian aside and fall into this last bit of sweetness before bed. "Hey, Thursday night, let's go out."

"Really?"

"Yeah." My mouth brushed against her neck and all I could do was sigh. Actually, I want it now, I think. I-I think I'm going off the deep end, Maka Albarn, and it's all your fault. I can't stop thinking about you, your body, and--maybe most important of all--how much you want me to love you. I never imagined someone would want that as desperately from me as you do.

"Wednesday is your last day at the hotel. It's a good idea to celebrate."

"Yeah." Or I want to celebrate all the chances I've taken, not just this job but you and the idea that I'm actually heading towards a life I want for once.

"I'll get home early on Thursday, then."

"Sounds good." I didn't want an ounce of space between us, pulling her close as I kept my face buried in her neck. I was sure my breathing there was tickling her--her shoulders were trembling just a little with each exhale--but I couldn't let go. It all felt like mine again but more than that too. There was definitely want, desire in that bodice-ripper-novel sense, but even beyond that was a feeling I hadn't really cultivated before. Sure, Clara and I had said it in that fleeting hollow sense-the mandatory "I love you" that you think comes with being in a long-term relationship. You're always convinced that when you're together long enough, it has to be love, right?

Instead, I knew time was a useless measure. Whether Maka and I had been together since our teens or we'd met a few weeks ago did matter in the slightest. What mattered was the way she unlocked what I really was--not with expectations of her own, but just through being a hand when I needed it. In that bed, holding onto her tightly, I was realizing that it wasn't that I had made these steps for her, but I'd made them with her. And that's the difference, isn't it? That's what love really is.


There's no way I could avoid watching the clock. I technically had jobs to do--I'd promise every last bit of baby furniture would be in one piece by the time she got home--but none of the steps seemed to fill up enough time. I should have been nailing my thumb or putting the wrong corner A to corner B, but everything was falling into place just to mock me and my lack of patience. I'd technically finished by lunchtime, leaving me sitting in a jungle of white equipment for every baby need. Still, no Maka in sight.

Except that was the only sight in my mind's eye--flashes of her being her in all of those ways I couldn't help but fall for. Even this morning she'd been a wild amount of giddy, just flitting around the apartment like she wasn't carrying around Jack's extra weight. I got at least five kisses before she was even heading towards the door and, Death, I coulda just stolen her away right there. It took everything I had to keep cool long enough for her to leave because the truth was singing in my bones. Today's the day.

I'd never been good at romantic gestures--the flower debacle should have made that obvious--so I'd settled on honesty. The plan was simple:

Wait for Maka to come home.

Look at least halfway decent since I knew no matter what she was gonna be perfect.

Take her to some mostly-swanky place that Viv had suggested.

Get her home, and just before our regular last kiss of the night, tell her what she hopefully still really wanted to hear.

Maka Albarn, I love you.

Easy. Simple. And the wait for it was about as comfortable as having my toenails removed.

So, I tried to throw myself at the problem instead of letting the thoughts of her eat me whole. Arranging and rearranging the furniture, no matter the position, left the apartment feeling cramped. You could barely walk without punting some kind of baby gear and I settled into the mental game of Tetris as I tapped along to the music in my headphones. Maybe I was channeling a little bit of Kid while I got lost in angles and symmetry, tweaking corners just so until it seemed like maybe there was some wiggle room. Still, at the end of every fidget, the message was starting to become clear: we need more space.

Luckily, before the thought could really latch, a tender tug brought my headphones popping out of my ears.

"Earth to Soul."

I jumped out of my skin before wheeling towards just the fix to all of my current problems. "Maka…" I forgot about the headphones, the room, the whatever and wrapped my arms around her.

"You were on another planet completely," she teased with a giggle before nuzzling into my chest. "But it looks like you got everything put together, so thank-"

Honestly, I can't tell what exactly came over me--maybe it was the sweetness in her voice or the way that soft scent of her skin hit me in the hug--but I wasn't letting that sentence finish. I latched onto her lips instead, not just a welcome home type of kiss but one that spoke for the entire week: I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. So even if it's just a little bit, let me have it now because, Death, I've waited. I feel like I've waited my whole damn life just to feel this way.

The cutest little pant from her broke the kiss, her voice nothing but a warbly whisper: "Don't take this the wrong way, but is everything OK?"

"More than OK," I murmured back but hesitated to dive back in. I gave Maka a little space, seeing those jade eyes blinking up at me with just enough concern to at least let my senses surface for a minute. My fingers sunk into her hair, tipping her close enough so I could rest my forehead on hers. "Spent all day- all week thinking about you."

"Oh-" that barely fluttered off her lips before she cleared her throat "-I mean, I-I know it's almost time, but you shouldn't worry…"

"Maka." I couldn't keep the scolding out of my voice. "Thinking about you. About this." I dove back into that kiss, starving for more of that shocked sweetness off her tongue. Holding her came easy, my arms circling her to sweep her almost off her feet. I slipped away from her lips, running mine along her jaw down to her neck.

"Soul…"

Oh, Death, how the hell can she say my name like thatI couldn't keep myself from pawing at her collar, pulling it far enough that I could sink more kisses along her collarbone.

Her hands clutched into the sides of my shirt. "Soul, I can't stand anymore."

"Sorry," I murmured against her skin before turning my head enough to breathe the next words over her neck. "You want me to stop?"

A little giggle bubbled up from her throat. "I mean I can't stand up anymore. If you're going to keep this up you're going to have to carry me to bed."

"I can do that." I tried not to sound desperate, but--hell--there was no hope. I was already a total lost cause since I actually tried to bend and start to sweep her off her feet until she gave me a playful thump on my back.

"Soul! You're insane!" She twittered off into an absolutely pricelessly adorable laugh. She stepped towards the bedroom, grabbing for my wrist along the way to keep me just a step behind her.

"I coulda-"

"Broke your neck and mine," she teased while continuing to pull me to the bed.

I caught her just before she sank to the sheets, getting her elbow so I could slow her enough to slip a hand under her dress. Those flowy maternity gowns were sorta a blessing- easy to toss over her head. It was the other stuff--those bicycle shorts with the big belly and her bra--that were the only thing keeping me from skin so I was instantly reaching behind her to fiddle with the clasp.

"What about you?" she murmured into my chest as she snuggled closer.

"Everything goes." Death, did I ever try to sound sure of myself! I sure as hell still had that nervous feeling--the epitome of performance anxiety--but that scale was starting to tip. I just wanted to be close- to feel every last bit of skin and maybe- just fucking maybe follow her orders and take that step closer towards what I really wanted.

I must have managed enough bravado since her eyes snapped up to mine with a pleased grin. "It might be a big step, but do you think I can try something too?"

"Depends…" I tried to smirk right back but I knew the edges were wobbly. The clink of my belt buckle punctuated that as she made quick work of my pants.

"It's not- well-" she toyed between the edge of my t-shirt and my boxers and maybe I was just about losing my mind so whatever came next could have been a curse for all I cared "-it's just some lube since I always feel like through the pants is one thing but skin on skin is…"

There weren't enough brain cells left to ponder that as her bra unhooked and she started to shimmy out of it. Even less had the power to fire as she relieved me of my shirt, leaving me there in my boxers to slip out of her maternity shorts. "Makes sense," I squeaked as I tried to press a hand through my hair and force a deep breath. It does make sense, but even the idea of her doing it--is it fucking terrifying or exhilarating?

Her hands rested on the elastic of my last lick of clothing. "Only if you want to. Only if you're comfortable." That didn't come with any urging one way or the other, fabric just stationary under her fingers.

It's not like Maka had said it to me, right? No "I love you" had passed her lips either, but… you can't look a woman in the eye like that and know she's handling your heart with the greatest of fucking care without imagining that somehow she does. At that moment, with her earnestly looking up at me and showing me want just as much as she was showing care, I couldn't help but feel loved. I had it rattling all the way down to every last one of my nerve endings.

"Yeah-" I managed another breath and a nod "-I want to."

Another glow of a smile broke across her cheeks as she didn't have to put all that much effort into tugging off my boxers. I was eager to help, dying to get her into bed and first feel all the warmth she had to offer. Maybe it's fucking lame--and I know there's plenty of people out there rolling their eyes at this--but the time that she let me spend just tangled up with her, kissing softly and letting my skin just rest against hers was really my favorite part. I won't deny that I loved the way she'd call my name, or those breathy little gasps when she was coming undone, but it was being close to her that really brought that deep comfort that I didn't know existed before.

Contented little hums were buzzing from her lips to mine. Her fingers lingered into my hair, delicately playing with my earlobe before pulling enough away to whisper, "Stomach's still a little in the way."

I grinned. "Don't notice it."

"Liar," she cooed until her breath caught as my hand dipped under the swell.

"Do you-" I wasn't proud of the way my throat constricted but I swallowed through it "-maybe you want me to try something different too?"

"Depends…" She mirrored me but I could see it wasn't exactly the same kinda worry. Maka was focused on me, her hand gently smoothing through my hair.

"I can do the usual or…" My finger made a trembling path down her thigh. "I only ever did it once or twice but I could use my mouth." Yes, poetic, Soul. Genius. Why don't you just say "I'll eat you out." Totally just as romantic.

Even with all the tangle we were in, her cheeks pinked. "I never really- and is it OK if I didn't shower? I mean, I did this morning, but-" Her eyes darted from me to my daring fingers before fluttering back.

"S'alright." I got up on my elbow so I could plant a kiss against her forehead. "Like you said: only if you want to. Only if it's comfortable."

Propped up, I got a good view of all the gears working in her brain. Her eyes were narrowing with thought, definitely listening to some mental chorus. I took the time to give her another soft brush of my lips to her hairline. "Do you actually want to?"

That seemed like an odd question and as I met her eyes again, the worry there only made my stomach turn. "Course I do. Wouldn't offer if I didn't."

"But-" She bit into her lip, making me reach for it and pull gently at it with my finger.

"Say it."

She grabbed my finger, squeezing with a sigh. "My body isn't exactly what it used to be."

I dipped down, catching the terrible idea and drawing it out from between those teeth she'd just abused her lip with. "Your body…" I nipped at her again before another breath "... is exactly what I want. Told you, all week, Maka. And--who am I fucking kidding--the past few months it's been you on my mind." I lifted up off my elbow, sitting straight in the bed to stare down at the flush of her cheeks. "Let me show you and then… then I'm gonna let you show me the same."

"I will." She reached up and touched my cheek but I wasn't about to be drawn back in. Hesitation wasn't something I wanted to give in to, so I crawled lower on the bed so my hands could grab temptingly into the meat of her thighs.

"Lay whatever way's comfortable." She rolled towards her side without a word, one knee up while the other rested on the bed. I took advantage of the spot, bringing my head to rest on her thigh like a pillow. I didn't miss the catch of her breath, but at the same time, I was already lost to the want of it all. I caressed down her thigh, just stopping at the curve before bringing myself in to taste her.

My first lap brought her toes digging into the mattress beside me, a fluttering whimper leaving her mouth to feed me just as much as the motion itself. That warped definition of sex that had been so solid in my mind was slowly curving back into place with each bit of exploration. Since that's what it was--I wasn't worried about perfection or some set of requirements that I hadn't learned. Maka was telling me with each cry and fidget of her legs. She was calling for me- begging for me and I couldn't muster an ounce of doubt. I didn't want to. What I wanted- what I couldn't live without was that final call. It was my name forced up so tangled from her throat.

Maka was pulling in shaky breaths as I rested my head back against her leg. My lips lingered over her inner thigh, each caress along with my hot exhales making her muscles tremble underneath me. "Come here," she finally murmured as her hands tried to reach around the swell for me.

While everything about touching her seemed to come so easily, the idea of climbing up that bed to find my own end still stole too much of my breath.

"The bedside table, top drawer." As I sat up she motioned towards the spot, still slightly sapped as she steadied the rhythm in her chest. I followed orders, finding a blue tube that clearly stated its intent--silky, smooth--without Maka having to. She took it off my hands and motioned me to her side. "Do you want to sit up or lay down?" She was fiddling with the safety cap just enough not to notice the way my mind started to spiral on the question at hand. "Soul?"

She'd caught me just sitting there, naked and definitely afraid. How the fuck was I supposed to put into words the way this scared me no matter how much I wanted it? And how do you explain to the girl you love that you are scared of something that's so-so fucking normal.

Maka only met my eyes for a moment before dropping them back to the tube, closing it, and laying it next to her side on the bed. She patted the mattress next to her. "Lay down." I could follow that, but I still couldn't give life to all the mess in my head. It didn't seem to matter to her though, since she sidled up next to me just as soon as I hit the sheets. With Jack she had to fidget, but she still managed to tangle up enough that I could steal the comfort from her skin again. "That scared me," she murmured as she finally settled nose to nose with me.

"What did?"

"It sounds strange to say it but that type of sex," she answered softly as her fingers reached to caress through my hair. "I have to admit the way we've been hasn't been entirely you." She tugged at my earlobe lovingly again. "I think, even if you wanted to, having sex sex would be… too much for me. So even that, I was scared, because I wanted it--definitely--but I was afraid something would change. With you, or with me, or who knows, but something."

That's the difference between you and me, Maka- I wanted to mutter -you do the brave thing and face those fears while I just-

"I didn't think- for a second I was sure I wasn't going to let you but you know what changed that?" She pecked my lips before pulling away enough to catch my eyes.

I shook my head in reply.

"Because you were sure, and if there's one thing you've proven to me is that I can trust you." Her fingers drifted down my cheek, hugging my jaw. "And I'm not trying to make you feel guilty if you don't feel the same way, but-"

"I trust you," I murmured.

"OK-" she broke for a smile "-then I'm going to tell you now that I'm sure, and you can borrow some of that if you want. If it helps you." She pulled her hand away as if there was some kinda magic dust between her fingers, offering it to me just like she was saying. "And that still comes with my promise that no matter what does or doesn't happen-"

"It's alright." I didn't necessarily want to hear that again, because I was trying to latch on to her surety and not let that "doesn't" get in the way. I reached around her, feeling along the sheet for the tube and bringing it back to that open hand. "I trust you and I want to-so fucking badly."

"Roll on your back." I did as ordered but it was a few minutes of a battle with pillows and my arm before we'd reached some kinda comfort. She was propped up next to me, enough where she could still dip down for a kiss but her hand could run agonizing lines along my hip bone. I watched as she squeezed out some of the clear, silky mess in her palm before working it slightly with her fingers. "Look at me," she murmured playfully.

Just as I brought my attention back to her she caught my lips, her tongue instantly searching for mine to give me a sweet surprise. Her fingers, soft and warm, were next. Between them and her mouth, I barely had breath, each stealing away every last bit of sense from me. Following along with the languishing pattern of her kiss was becoming impossible, leaving me breaking it bitterly for air. I tangled my fingers in her hair, trying to take in some control while the rest of me was spinning.

Maka wouldn't give it to me, stealing her kisses away to drift down my jaw to my neck. Her teeth pulled softly there, murmurs starting in between each nip to drift lovingly towards my ear. "Don't think you're the only one, Soul." She wandered up to my ear, sucking gently on the lobe. "You have your own special place in my mind- in my heart."

That whisper drove my hand to pull her back, only just getting my lips pressed to hers before the desperate moan rumbled up from my chest. That crashing wave roared up from my toes to my head, flushing away every last thought I could have had. I was lost at sea, floating, only anchored to her and the way her soft kisses gently brought feeling and breath back to me. "I-" Death, I wanted the fucking words to come but I was still recovering, my eyes just focusing on those beautiful jade brightly shining back at me.

"Just relax." She caressed my face with a giggle. "I'll get something to clean-"

"Wait-" trembled out of my throat as I steadied my hold for her. "That- Maka-" I hated the way it stuttered out but her smile only brightened.

"Left you speechless?" The flirtatious little giggle that broke after that brought the start of a smile to my own face. "I'll just take that as a compliment." She dipped closer, ghosting a kiss over my lips. "Now give me a minute and I'll get you a washcloth."

I couldn't give up though, and I pulled her back into another feathery kiss. "Maka-" I murmured hoarsely into the tight space between us "-that only happened because I love you."

Her slick fingers that had been tapping joyfully above the mess on my stomach suddenly clenched tightly against my skin. "What?"

"I love you," I repeated with all the life I could give those words. I wasn't going to try to feed her some corny bullshit that love had healed all wounds--since I was damn sure that therapy at some point was still a necessity--but it was love that had brought me this far. I hoped it was resounding in her head just as much as it did in my heart.

"You do?" came as a quivering question.

"Definitely."

Her sigh brought her kiss back to me, so forceful that I was sure she was trying to steal the words right out of my mouth. I wanted her to have every last bit of it that she wanted, but she stole it away almost as quickly as she gave it. "I love you too."

I could almost forget the fucking delirium of that final release for all the whirl that simple phrase gave me. I almost wanted to parrot her--that utter disbelief at the reality of that--but I managed a last little bit of cool: "Good."

She laughed softly, just further enveloping me in all the bliss she had to give me. "Good."

Notes:

Sorry for the delay, buddies, and sorry to say delays will probably continue. Not only is resbang season starting (I'm actually participating this year), but I also have a surprise of my own. Turns out writing a pregnancy fic was more than wishful thinking. Lil chichirichick is incoming June 2022!

Chapter 20: Promises

Notes:

Sorry for making you all wait! I can promise that I have an ending in mind (along with a couple of epilogues because that's how I am 🤷🤷🤷)

Chapter Text

I was thankful that my nausea had disappeared by the second trimester because watching Blake stuff waffles into his mouth in the same fashion as others would breathe oxygen was both fascinating and disgusting all rolled into one. Thankfully, Kid had some dignity while eating, though this was his third round of pancakes. I don’t know what I expected when the two of them invited me to an endless brunch, but honestly at this point, I couldn’t keep up with the pace since Jack wasn’t exactly leaving me with any room. “Slow down, or we’re going to end up at the hospital,” I chided in Blake’s direction regardless of the uselessness.

He shook it off like another crumb from his lips before wiggling his eyebrows. “How’s things with Mr. Cool?”

“Fine.” That was purposefully as banal as possible because while I knew these were my dearest friends, I wasn’t necessarily sure I wanted the knucklehead commentary just yet. “I love you” still sounded too sweet in my ears, and I didn’t want it tarnished by teasing until some of the glow was gone– if it would disappear at all.

How he could whistle with food stuffing his cheeks seemed physically impossible, but the mocking tweet broke his lips. “Fine.”

A wry smile split Kid’s face as he joined in: “I have to admit Soul seems a little better than fine.”

“You don’t say?” Blake piggy-backed. “I heard he’s sorta been on cloud nine lately.”

“Heard from who?” I snapped as I suddenly became very intent on the food I was pushing around my plate, hoping it would abate the rush of blood to my cheeks.

Blake shot an accusatory thumb in Kid’s direction.

Traitor! I tried to spell that out clearly with a look, one that simply added humor to both of their smiles.

“Perhaps it’s just his anticipation for the baby,” Kid tried to add dryly, but his amusement was all too clear. “He’s been humming around the office.”

Another idiotic whistle blared from Blake.

Alright, I couldn’t keep the dreamy—probably goofy—grin from my face at the idea. I wondered what he hummed, how deep that baritone could go, and what ran through his head with each note. It was moments like these that I surprised myself with how much I could miss him. It wasn’t as if he was all that far away—spending the day with Reggie—but I could feel that yearning to just get a glimpse of his face. I tucked it away for later, trying to strip my face of anything else that could earn me more mockery.

“It’s not a surprise,” Kid continued, always doomed to speaking his mind once he got started. “He’s a doting uncle and will be the same as a father.” He nodded calmly– as if that wasn’t sending a tremor through all my nerve endings.

“Kid, he’s–” He’s not. That tasted so bitter but I couldn’t spit it out. It wasn’t fair. Maybe it was technically reality, but it wasn’t the world I wanted to live in– the world we’d agreed on. Still, it felt like that the world itself required it as if I were guilty of something so heinous I wasn’t allowed to just change it. But what was it? What was it that I had done?

It was Blake’s stern, waffle-free voice that snapped me back to our reality: “You’re not backing out, are you?”

“Maka?” Kid urged in quick succession.

I could blame it on the hormones, but I knew better: I would do anything to turn the tables and erase Brian from the equation. In my heart– my soul, Jack was Soul’s. My palm quickly caught the tears on my cheeks, smearing them with a sniffle. “Of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

Blake leaned on his elbow, propping his chin in his palm. “Good. You’d be an idiot otherwise.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, throwing him a tearful glare. “And since when are you on his side?”

“I owe him for all the beer.” Blake cackled as a grin stole across his face. “Plus, he’s the first guy I’ve liked– not that I have many to compare to.”

“I like him too,” Kid added– which I’m sure was done simply to soften my grumpy gaze. “Which reminds me, I want you to convince him to take all the time I offered.”

My eyebrows climbed up my forehead. “What time?”

He tented his fingers, suddenly all business. “I did some research, and it seems the best employers offer paternity leave as well as maternity leave– or as it should be called parental leave. Twenty weeks seems to be a standard, but I settled on forty.”

Eights, I would have sighed if I wasn’t so shocked. “Kid that’s– that’s too generous.”

“I will admit my biased position on this stems from you,” Kid acquiesced with a smile. “I assumed your stubbornness would have kept you from asking, but Soul is ready, willing, and able so I want to give him the opportunity. You deserve it– your son deserves it.”

Forget blaming the spill on hormones; I was doomed to let more tears dribble down my cheeks. “I’m not stubborn,” I warbled, making both of them break into laughter. I should have known it was hopeless, but under the warm comfort of both of their smiles, I accepted a little more of the truth.


I tried to tell myself losing sleep was fine– I was just anticipating the baby who’d steal those hours from both of us for the rest of our lives. Except that was it: not the baby, not Maka’s health, but the whole after. The rest of our lives. I huffed, taking tight fistfuls of the crib that was awkwardly placed in the living room. Leaning against the wood, I tried to catch my breath.

Viv had interrogated me post Reggie playdate, scaring the shit out of me with the way she could read each question that had been echoing in my brain for the past few months. Then, Maka came home from her little bro-session and… how the hell do I describe her? Tearful, but giddy? Not really sorrowful and somehow starting to generate more courage– if that was even possible? At the same time, there was a new little bit of hesitancy, like she was sitting on something. Whatever it was, I needed the egg to fucking hatch because that bit of coyness was keeping me awake and walking the floor.

On my third trek around the apartment, I heard her groan from the bedroom. Obviously my wandering was over, feet clamoring until I was at the bedside, hand on her forehead to clear her bangs from her face. “You okay? Is it time?”

She giggled softly, grabbing me by the wrist. “Just regular aches. Plus, you weren’t in bed.”

I huffed. "If I didn't know better…"

"I'm about to give birth so forgive just a little manipulation?" She murmured innocently, followed by a lengthy yawn. "You can't sleep?"

"Mhm." I let my fingers work through her hair, smoothing it back on the pillow. 

"A lot to think about?"

I leaned down, leaving a kiss on her forehead and letting myself linger there. I tried out another hum before nuzzling against her hair.

"Is that what your humming sounds like?"

Huh? I pulled away, ready to see her drifting into nonsensical sleep but those beautiful jade eyes were just blinking at me, amusement curling her lip. "I guess…" The rise of my eyebrows just made her smile continue to climb.

"A little birdie told me you've been humming."

My own smile soured slightly. There were obviously only two options—Viv or my boss—and both seemed a 50/50 chance.

"At brunch yesterday…" Her gentle touch glided from the lobe of my ear down my neck, leaving me with goosebumps. "Kid mentioned you were anticipating Jack."

"Well, yeah…" I caught her hand just as it started towards my chest, settling it and pressing it over my heart.

Her grin was saturated in coyness. "So, what have you been humming?"

Can't say I was doing it all that consciously but sure, I had been lost in tunes that ran the spectrum. "No particular song just…" My smirk started to match hers though the playfulness was definitely eclipsed by a bit of bliss as I let the scenarios come back to the forefront of my mind. "It's more about a feelin' than the tune."

"Nerves?" She offered as a sweet hint of concern started to wrinkle her brow. 

It was easy to shake my head, adding the soft stroke of my fingers along her hairline. "Guess again," I murmured warmly, letting it rumble in my chest.

Her hand flexed slightly under mine, the worry starting to melt. "Happiness?"

Instead of a game show ding, I have another content hum as the reward for her answer. 

While I had expected that to encourage an explosion of her smile, she continued to keep it in check, eyes wandering over my features. "Kid told me something else, too."

"Yeah?" I stole a tendril of her hair, toying at it with my finger. 

"He was worried you weren’t going to take all the time he offered.”

The guilt that sprang up in my gut made my lips flatline. “It’s not that I don’t want to take the deal…” My words started to get away from me along with all those stupid flutterings that had been in my head for the past–well, for practically the whole damn time we’d been together.

“Then?” She prompted, leaving me even more speechless since it’d come without any judgment. Maka was giving me the simple offer of explaining myself– though how fucking easy that would be was an entirely other issue.

Normally, I wanted to stare at her all day because that face– those eyes– those lips were just perfect but now? I was sorta just calculating how much I was about to fuck up and I wanted to memorize the last little bit of joy I could before she might be kicking my ass. “You said you’re only getting twenty weeks.”

She nodded.

I huffed a breath over my lips. “So… I mean, that would leave just me with Jack for twenty more.”

“Oh.” There it was– the warble in her voice and the wrinkle of her brow I was afraid of. 

Maybe it was the fear, maybe it was just instinct, but my hands shot to clasp her cheeks, snagging all of her attention back from wherever her mind was going. “You said you’d try, right? Try to let me be more and I– I just didn’t want to push you or make you feel like you had to. I thought– well, I thought it’d be better to let you see how the first weeks went and then if you could stomach it, then I’d take the rest.”

She blinked, eyes now a little more glossy as her voice let me know how badly she had to hold back tears. “Don’t think about me for a second– do you want to?”

Easier said than fucking done, Maka. I sighed. “I feel like I gotta give you a resume, references, everything. I swear I can do it—I took care of Reggie a lot—and Viv’ll tell you–”

“Soul,” she corrected my course almost instantly. “I know you can do it. I want to know if you want to.”

I want to be his dad. Why was that so hard to say? What was it about wanting– needing something that made me just clam it up and throw it away? All of that was drenched in fear with a healthy side of self-loathing, but the way she was staring up at me made me know I had to push through that mire. “I told you: it’s both of you that I want. I–” Fuck, fuck, fuck! “I don’t want Jack just seein’ me as your boyfriend some guy– I want to be”—the swallow burned down my throat, making me realize my own tears were attempting to escape—“a dad to him, if I can.” I tried to hold my breath while I waited for her answer but I lost it, choking away on the start of a sob.

Her hands were soft and steady over mine, lingering over my wrists before sliding up my arms. “Come here.” I collapsed awkwardly into the bed, trying not to crush her but at the same time needing to be as close as I possibly could. Next it was my hair, smoothing down to my back to stroke out the tension of each muscle. “Thank you,” she murmured.

It sounded so much like an echo of the past that I clutched to her, reliving a little fear from that moment passed. “I love you– remember, it’s not just–”

“It’s not that,” she whispered sweetly before planting a kiss on my neck. “Thank you for being exactly who you are.” 

I could manage a breath that only tore the corner off of the fear. Being exactly who I am? That blared in my head, an incomprehensible siren. “Does that mean…?”

Her beautiful, breathy giggle lit up my skin. “That I’m the luckiest woman in the world?” she purred. “Soul”—her fingers dug into my hair to pull me back so I could witness all the love shining in her eyes—“everyone already sees you as Jack’s papa. Blake and Kid were already insisting over brunch. You know Viv, Wes, and even Reggie think the same. Not to mention I seem to remember someone saying that there’s no chance in hell Jack’s not going to be yours.”

My skin couldn’t decide whether to blanche or blush. Yeah, I had said that. I said that after I stuck it to that guy who didn’t deserve to have touched her let alone be a father to a little boy who was going to be just as wonderful. In other words, I’d already gotten my permission, but… “But what about you?”

Maka’s smile blossomed, palms continuing to smooth over my cheeks. “If you can promise you’ll make Jack just as happy as you’ve made me…”

She barely needed to trail off before I was kissing her like I’d been without it for months. I couldn’t decide what was sweeter: her, the moment, or the future ahead of us. My hand drifted over the swell, fingers flexing gently into her nightshirt. Don’t worry, Jack. This is just the start. I promise. I promise. I promise.

Chapter 21: What You've Earned

Notes:

Out of the blue, another chapter appears! I swear I'm making an effort to finish my WIPs. Consider it a belated birthday gift to JustPocketChange!

TW: discussions of domestic violence

Chapter Text

Normally I would just use my key since Viv would be in the office and Reggie would be waiting not so patiently for me in the entryway, but it wasn't that kinda day. Those two were actually already at my apartment, hunkered down for a movie day with Maka since my worry-addled brain couldn't dare leave her alone. We were in any day– any hour– any minute territory and I needed backup if I was going to keep my promise of being there when Jack was born.

Instead, I knocked and waited for the casual footsteps. When the door opened, Wes's face was definitely far from nonchalant as his eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "Did something happen?"

“Ha–” My hand swept up to cradle the nape of my neck, gaze threatening to fall to the floor. ‘Course he thinks it’s bad. Haven’t shown up like this since– I tried to crush that with a breath. “I just– I wanted to talk.” 

That word was so alien between us that it took him a minute to recover. “Of course. Come in.” He reached, hesitated, and just barely whiffed his fingers by my elbow. It should have been an escort but he turned it into a wave, and I followed. The foyer stretched into their amazingly spacious living room, the pocket doors to Viv’s study left ajar. I half expected her humming to drift through before I reminded myself of why I was really here– what I was really doing. “Is this alright?” He motioned towards the sofa arrangement.

“Yeah.” I followed his lead and sat on the short end of the L after he positioned himself in the middle of the long section. My sweaty palms pressed against my knees, leaving my focus there rather than his face. “It’s not a big deal…”

The couch creaked, and Wes’s knees came into view in my periphery. His hand had started to intrude in the space between us but trembling fingers stopped just before my own. “Well, whatever it is, I’m happy to help.” His voice was barely above a whisper– delicate as if even the atmosphere around us could crumble like a pillar of salt. 

What I’d been rehearsing all week sat on my tongue, not budging until I cleared my throat. “I sorta realized something with the baby.”

“Oh?” His reply hit the air even more gingerly, but at least he was coaxing– making sure I knew I had his ear.

I managed to raise my eyes to him before letting them dart to the safety of Viv’s office again. I waved an absent hand towards it. “Space. We’re already tripping over all the baby stuff as it is and… I’m wasting money on my apartment since I’m with her all the time and…” My line of thought crumbled momentarily as the realization hit me: this was the longest, most revealing conversation we’d had since… well, since the Clara meltdown. Even if it’d been years, that wound was still fresh– threatening to tamper down the rest of my hopes for help.

“Yes?” Wes carefully prompted again. I met his gaze, finding a soft shine to his eyes that brought a wave of nostalgia.

A shaky breath shot from my mouth before I could start again. “I wanna suggest moving in together, but I wanna have spaces in mind. I don’t want another trashy apartment– I want something nice.” I knew I was bordering on pleading, but Wes didn’t show any sign of annoyance. He was listening, plain and simple. “I just don’t know the first thing about finding something like that so I was wondering if you’d help me.”

Wes never was good at making a mystery of what he was feeling. There was an instant swell of excitement that he tried to tramp down but his smile wouldn’t lose its glow. “I can most certainly do that. It’d be helpful if you had some requirements and then I could start sending out some feelers…” His trail off was dripping in thought and careful analysis followed with the silence.

“I can,” I tried to urge him forward, “unless you already got something in mind?”

Guilt. It was a quick flash, but there it was. The fiddling and flexing of his fingers into fists clinched it.

We were both on a razor’s edge, and there was all the chance in the world to fall. I had always been sure there wasn’t enough thread in the world to stitch us back together, but maybe that was before. Before he had the nerve to admit he was scared. My perfect brother. Scared. “Wes, I wanna hear it.”

“I know there’s an open unit in the building.”

I shot down the urge to raise my eyebrows, just nodding in reply.

“And I know your financial situation only just changed,” he was slow to add. “But I’d like to– we’d like to offer assistance in that if you’d allow us.”

“But that’s–” Even those two words took almost every ounce of strength I had to shoot out. The rest were grainy wood against the sandpaper of my tongue. “These places aren’t cheap, Wes. That’s not just a loan, that’s–”

“A gift,” Wes replied carefully. It was walking on butterfly wings rather than eggshells. “It wouldn’t be all of it, just enough of a down payment that would make the monthly mortgage manageable for the two of you. It’s not even on this floor, so I swear you’d have separation from us. Viv and I want to respect your space.”

There was something new building in the pit of my stomach– a conglomeration of feelings that I couldn’t suss out. “Did you– you talked to Viv about this?”

“Yes,” he admitted immediately, followed by that flash of guilt again. “The last time we were at Maka’s apartment I brought it up. Viv agreed, but she said… I didn’t say anything because I knew I should be careful. I meddled in your life once before and it hurt you.”

That brought a churn– a bit of bile threatening at the back of my throat.

“I know you haven’t forgiven me—I don’t deserve it—so I didn’t want to press into your affairs. I want to help you, but I’ll only offer to do as much as you want.” Wes’s hands shook as he pulled them back, leaving just his words to bridge the gap.

Forgive him? To be honest, I hadn’t even considered what that meant since I’d never actually considered this a grudge. While the living situation was pressing and what I’d actually come to talk about, that stir in my stomach made me unable to leave the rest alone. “Are you– Wes, I’m not sure what you want forgiveness for.”

His eyebrows jumped, lips gaping momentarily as an extra sheen came to his eyes.

Don’t cry– almost jumped from my mouth but I let it hang. Maybe part of me actually wanted to see it again– not Wes hurting, but just another glimpse of someone actually showing me their entire hand. Our parents hadn’t exactly been good at that, after all.

Wes rubbed his face, smearing away anything that could make a mess of his cheeks before it even got there. It took a long, slow breath to bring anything forward: “When you came to me about Clara, I made so many mistakes.”

I managed to cut the groan that wanted to erupt from my throat into a sharp grunt. The moment was flooding back to me and—like most of the memories from that time—it was like tearing out stitches with your teeth.

“I can’t say I knew anything about that kind of situation”—he cut himself off with a rough sigh before locking eyes with me—“about abuse. But ignorance isn’t an excuse. I-I read some books. I even went to some meetings–”

“Meetings?” I managed to force the word out since each sentence was tightening my muscles– constricting everything around my heart.

“I found a domestic violence support group.” Fuck, he was crawling ever so lightly over each syllable, and his gaze was nothing short of pure empathy. “It’s not just for survivors but their families as well– to help them understand and not make the same mistakes. I-I don’t share. I always go just to listen and hopefully learn.”

My whole body was a limb that had fallen asleep, pins and needles nudging me with the sudden realization of his devotion. “How often do you go?”

“It’s twice a month. I started going when you moved in with us and only stopped when we went abroad. It’s this Thursday, though, and I was going to…” He lost whatever war he was waging as his hand came to his mouth. There was a battle of breaths before he started again. “I want to keep going, and—again, I don’t want to pry—but I want to suggest you come with me.”

Dizzy, double-vision threatened me. Abuse– domestic violence– none of those terms had ever applied to me. All I’d ever gotten was the lion’s share of the blame and endless shame for being a man who wasn’t. In all of our circles—parents included—it’d been clear that the real travesty was breaking my engagement. Toughing it out– making it work– those were the mantras I was fed over and over. It was completely disorienting to watch all those letters crumble before my eyes– especially when it was my brother who was crushing them.

“But that– I don’t want you to think that’s contingent on the apartment. I’ll do whatever you’d like on either front, but I want to emphasize–” Wes shook his head before pulling his hand through his hair, making it almost as much of a mess as mine. “Please let me help you, Soul.”

For days, I had prepped myself to not fall apart. I’d run drills in my mind—any scenario I could imagine—and coached myself into staying cool. That was before I realized that maybe whatever I’d let myself believe about Wes was just as faulty as the ideology I’d used to put space between Maka and me. There was a chance that I’d let a gap grow just because of that old fault of mine– that there was no hope for loving me. Wes had barely finished his plea before I broke, my shoulders trembling as I lowered my head into my hands.

“Soul…”

I pressed my palms to my eyes even though once again there was no hope to dam that river.

“Soul, can I come sit next to you?”

“Yeah,” I managed weakly through a sob.

The couch creaked before Wes’s warmth was next to me. “I’m going to touch you.”

“Okay.” Murmuring was all I could do as my hands worked over my face, trying to keep whatever mask I could in place. It was a complete failure especially as Wes’s arm landed softly around my shoulders. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d done this, but I couldn’t deny how much it settled something inside me. With another painful whimper, I let the reality set in: if only he’d done this when I came to him about Clara. If only I could have cried. If only I could have felt like he heard me. If only I could have been safe, even for just a minute.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry this,” he murmured as his fingers clutched tightly at my shoulder. “I want you to know I’ll do anything you ask to support you. Your decisions will never change that you are my little brother and that I love you.”

If I’d learned anything from my struggle with Maka, it was that asking wasn’t exactly my forte. Still, this was one of those do or die moments—like the one where I kissed her—and I had a choice to either sabotage it all or finally allow myself another tiny corner of happiness. With a deep, gulping breath, I rested my head against Wes’s shoulder. “I love you too.”


I honestly had expected a dog-pile when I got home– banking on Viv, Reggie, and Maka to all be snoozing on the couch. Instead, I opened the door to a cacophony of voices. The din overpowered my presence– not something that I minded. If anything, I needed it. So I stood, caught my breath, and took in the view. The apartment was buzzing as Shelley and Reggie ran circles around the couch. Marie and Viv chatted back and forth, Maka’s sweet hum interrupting every now and then. They fluttered through discussions of work– kids– life. I appreciated the normalcy of it since everything with Wes still struck me as so surreal.

Suddenly it was boy-meets-legs, Reggie barreling into me at top speed. “Uncle!”

“Oh,” Maka exclaimed joyfully as she turned her head to expose her smile over the back of the couch. “You’re home! We–” She paused, and I knew I was being examined.

“Having a party without me?” I finished for her as I took wobbling steps with Reggie encumbering one of my legs.

“I guess so,” she replied softly– tone definitely spelling out the fact I wasn’t off the hook.

“Uh, hey, Marie. Nice to see you. Hi, Shel–” I couldn’t get through the name before the girl herself was colliding with the other leg. Both leeches erupted into giggles, adding another bit of evenness to my breath. “You’re both trying to kill me.”

“No,” the duet answered in chorus with all the devious sweetness they could muster.

“Were you out late for work?” Viv’s tone completely gave her away as she joined Maka in the subtle discovery mission.

Hell, I didn’t blame either of them since I knew my eyes probably looked like I needed a case of Benadryl. Marie’s addition to the mix made me hesitate, but in the end, after dragging the kids towards the couch, I actually answered: “Nah, I was with Wes.”

Wide eyes met my response, and I could see both women’s gears start to turn. They were both calculating, measuring, and honestly, it was warming my heart. But it wasn’t either of them to break the silence. “Well, now that we know Maka’s safe and sound, I think it’s time to get home to Daddy, Shelley.” Marie clapped her hands together before standing. There was something in her smile, too, but I was a little too inundated to read it.

“But–” Shelley started.

“Don’t worry, Shelley. Reggie and I are going, too.” Viv apparently had come to the same conclusion as Marie, mimicking her in every way down to the reach for Reggie. 

I was reluctantly freed by both before each scuttled to their mother. Marie leaned and kissed Maka before offering me a quick wave. Viv opted for the shoulder squeeze on Maka before coming to me and throwing an arm around my neck. I was still pretty drained, but I could at least manage the hold as I gave into a sigh. “Call me when you’re ready to,” she murmured.

“Yeah, ‘course.” She was slow to give up on the hug, leaving Reggie to impatiently tug at my shirt. I finally got away long enough to scoop the kid and walk the two of them to the door. Both managed too many glances back, making heat prickle my heart. I was going to turn back when I felt Maka's arms around my middle. All I could do was shut the door since her grip gave me no choice but to settle in.

“You’ve been crying.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a sour laugh. That was the understatement of the year. Felt like I needed about three gallons of water to catch up with the dehydration. “But, uh, can I get a free pass until this weekend? There’s something else I gotta talk to you about.”

Her fingers worried into the fabric over my stomach. “You swear you’ll talk about it this weekend?”

“As much as I can.” I tried to ease the fidgeting of her hands but she wouldn’t have it. “It might come in pieces, but I’ll start then. I just– I need to do a few things first. Like I’ll be going with Wes Thursday night, too.”

I was in for it now– her arms clutching me almost breathless. “Please just tell me he’s– he’s being a brother to you, right?”

I managed a lopsided smile, even if it was just for myself. My eyes burned but none of it mattered– tears weren’t exactly a rarity now and who the fuck could be bothered to care about ‘em? “Yeah. Guess you could say it’s brother stuff.”

“Okay.” She released a long, slow breath but her muscles refused to budge. “What do we need to talk about?”

“Do we gotta do this at the door?” I chuckled softly, patting her hands again. “Think I wanna crawl into bed to get this started.”

She squeezed as if I wasn’t going to get my request, but suddenly she was gone. Those tender little footsteps were puttering their way to the bedroom. I listened, waited for her to settle with the clear groan of the bed frame, and only then allowed myself to move. There was a little corner for me in her room now– a designated spot for my nightclothes so I didn’t have to lose time popping over to my apartment. I went over to my space and started stripping down to my boxers.

“Can you– please, Soul, just talk to me.”

Her plea made me pause and finally look at her. My uncalculated misstep was written all over her face as she sat there in tears. “Hey…” Clothes were the last thing on my mind as I moved to her, cupping her cheeks as I leaned down to plant a kiss on her quivering lips. “Why’re you crying?”

Maka sighed. “I’m scared. Worried. I don’t like the way you looked when you came in now you’re being quiet, and–”

I gave her another peck, trying to finish that sentence with love instead of worry. “Maka,” I whispered as I sat down to share her space, “I wanna take care of you.”

“You do,” she urged.

“A little bit more,” I corrected as I used my thumb to clear the next wave of tears I knew was coming. Her eyes were still shining when I pulled away but at least her cheeks were clear. “Technically, I went to talk to Wes today about you.” Her trembling lips turned into a miserable frown. I tried to fix it with a soft stroke of my finger. “See, when I got this shitty apartment I wasn’t exactly thinking about anything other than cheap.”

“Same,” she murmured back.

“But I think Jack needs– deserves more than cheap. Us too.” While I gave that time to settle, her eyes started to clear with each blink. Maka was never slow on the uptake, but it was clear she was letting that churn. I wanted to give her the opportunity, but at the same time, I needed her to hear it from me first without any filter from her brain. “I wanna move us somewhere nice. Somewhere better where we can be a family– have room for all this baby stuff and you and me.”

Stunning her into silence seemed impossible, but somehow I’d reached it here. Her eyes weren’t even budging, just wide and settled on my face. I could barely tell if she was breathing until she sucked in air, her lip wavering with the exertion. “And that includes Wes, how?”

I couldn’t stop the compulsion to grimace. It was a built-in response to the idea of Wes meddling– or I guess what I used to consider meddling. I still couldn’t figure out if this was Wes learning to be less heavy-handed or me dealing with accepting help or somewhere in-between. Either way, I took a minute to feel the ugly in it before I managed a half-smile. “He’s better at being an adult than me.”

She managed a short snicker.

“Because I want to do this right,” I murmured as I moved to stroke her hair. Thankfully she bent into the touch, exhaling with each smooth glide of my fingers. “So I know I definitely can’t do it without your opinion. First I gotta know that it’s what you want.”

“We practically live together already,” she replied with another quick laugh.

Can’t deny that made my heart soar, but I had to keep it all in check. “Except if you want me gone you can kick me across the balcony.”

“True.”

As if I needed to erase that from her mind, I leaned closer to kiss her forehead. When I pulled away, it’d done a pretty good job of polishing her smile. “It’s sorta early, I know, but–”

Maka sharply shook her head. “I don’t care about timelines anymore. It feels right, so I want to do it.”

A deep breath made my chest tremble almost as much as my hands as I cupped her face. “Next question: how do you feel about Viv and Wes’s building?”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“I would be, if Wes hadn’t offered the deposit.”

What?” It was half a shriek as she clasped her hands over mine.

I tried to shrug away the uneasy truth. “Didn’t exactly tell you, but my family’s that snobby sorta rich. At least Wes developed some charity about it, but none of them have been hurting for money since they came over on the Mayflower.”

Maka kneaded into my knuckles nervously. “But that still has to be– a down payment like that would be in the hundreds of thousands, Soul!”

“Chump change,” I replied as my smirk turned sour. “Even if they put down enough so the mortgage will be manageable.”

Regardless of my nonchalant explanation, Maka was still crunching the numbers in her head. “We’re talking the same as our rents?”

Rent, singular,” I answered.

That settled about as well as an ice cube down the back of her shirt. “Singular?”

“Singular.”

Now we were talking about a bucket of frigid water because she was up off the bed and out of my arms’ reach. She threw all of her effort into pacing, which at this point was a sight to see with that belly of hers. Her hands were in her hair, then her stomach, then tucking into her elbows before back to the baby. I wanted to scoop her back up, but I was pretty sure she needed to run it out. After a minute or two, she slowed to a stop and turned to me with a healthy-sized wrinkle in her forehead. “It seems stupid to refuse.”

“But…?” I offered.

She huffed. “I-I’ve always let you come to me about things when you’re ready, but to say yes to this, I need to know: Is this just Wes’s way of buying you back into the family? Into a family that– that let that girl hurt you?” The last half of that sentence was spit like venom as her lips turned into a hard frown.

“Wes isn’t like my parents.” Admitting that came with a sting as I scraped away another hollow belief I’d held for the past few years. “If I were talking to my parents, yeah, this is something they’d do. Throw money at a problem ‘til they think it’s solved, and then expect their ‘apology’ to come with yours to match. Wes might be using his cash the best way he knows how, but he’s not expecting anything back. All he wants to do is support me, not trap me.”

Maka studied me for a moment before walking back to me. As soon as she was in range, her hands were taking fistfuls of my shirt. “And you’re sure about that?”

“Yeah.” I could smile at that answer, knowing none of it was laced with a lie. “Plus, you think Viv would let him?”

“No,” she replied with a sigh. “Still, I… I can’t help but feel like this is happening at your expense. You suffered, you struggled, and now, all of a sudden, I get to reap all the benefits.”

To be honest, I hadn’t even let that cross my mind. I should have known that Maka was getting a golden opportunity with this, but all I had been thinking about was my own selfishness. I wanted her. I wanted Jack. I wanted my brother. I wanted a whole family. What I had to go through for that seemed like nothing– I’d probably flay off a layer of skin to have it this way if I had to. “It’s a fair trade.”

“No, it’s not,” she answered with a scoffing laugh. “All I’ve done–”

“–Is give me a family.” Pulling her in was a sweet victory, especially with the globe of her belly between us. “Shoulda taken a lot more– I woulda done a lot more just to have this. You, Jack, whatever else comes along. Maybe I wanna feel like that’s what I’ve earned, okay? All that bullshit brought me to this sorta happiness.”

Next thing I knew, her arms were slung around my neck, pulling me down into a fiery kiss. Maka didn’t hold back, spelling out her answer clear as day as she started to push me back towards the bed. Yeah, this was definitely the happiness I’d earned.

Chapter 22: Deus Ex Machina

Chapter Text

I cried.

Alright, technically it was far from difficult to make me cry about anything given my current condition. You try tacking on twenty pounds on top of rampant hormones! As soon as we stepped through the threshold, my vision wobbled. I wanted to blame it on the inescapable sunlight filtering in through the oversized windows of the living room.

“So this is the Skylark Penthouse model,” the chipper real estate agent or complex head or whoever had shown up at the security desk chimed as he motioned across the foyer to the beautiful view– which I should add contained a balcony. Technically, a length of balcony spreading across the entire side of the apartment. “It’s three bedrooms, perfect for a growing family.”

You’re not helping! Well, he was helping with the waterworks, and I had to button my lip to keep from a little yelp of a sob. While Soul had been holding my hand, it was now gone, opting to circle my waist and pull me closer.

“Oh,” the agent started, and I was sure he was about to stick his foot in his mouth. Instead, he nodded before taking a step back. “How about I let you two take a little tour of your own, and I’ll wait outside for your questions.”

“Thanks,” Soul replied, his attention only off me for the time it took the door to clack shut. In an instant, he was gathering me up, pulling Jack comfortably between us. “Hey, if you don’t wanna–”

“No,” I bemoaned, letting the shake of my head deliver another smatter of tears down my cheeks. “It’s not that. It’s just– it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

He sighed—something I hoped was mostly wistful—before turning his eyes towards the balcony. “Yeah, but like I said, we don’t have to take it. So let’s look around. Tell me what you don’t like.”

That was easier said than done. Well, alright, if I had true complaints it would be the kitchen was too small, but ultimately, if you’ve lived in apartments, you’ve already been desensitized to galleys. Other than that, what was there to complain about? Three real bedrooms? In an apartment? And it wasn’t just a closet that was mistakenly labeled– the one on the kitchen side was as large as my room now! As we crossed the living room to the other, it hit me: this was perfect for–

“A nursery,” Soul murmured.

If I had any hopes of holding on, they were gone. All of it bubbled up– deep, wrenching sobs that had no bottom. True to form, Soul was there, pulling me into a warm embrace that left his shirt stained with my tears. “S-sorry,” I stuttered through one of the waves.

“Not a sorry sorta thing,” he mumbled. The hoarse hint in his voice finally pulled me out of my own flood, making me raise my head to discover the glisten in his eyes.

If I hadn’t felt enough guilt before—and, oh, Death, did I still worry that I was gaining thanks to all of his loss—I was now drowning in it. “Soul…”

“I’m gonna be selfish,” he whispered as his hands cupped my face. “I’m gonna tell you now that you can’t say no. I’m not gonna let you.”

Stubbornness had been a talent of mine since birth. It always reared its ugly—though sometimes helpful—head when people told me I couldn’t. Even though the fight was so deeply ingrained that it could be called hereditary, I was sure all of it had crumbled to bits at his admission. Selfish. Soul Evans was trying to be selfish– though I was now completely sure that he didn’t know the definition of the word. 

A part of me was still convinced there was nothing for him in this equation. He’d be caring for a woman who had been someone else’s. He’d be raising another man’s child. He’d had to hurt– to suffer through just to get someone else’s tossed away leftovers. And, yes, I was all too aware that I was the leftover. What could I give him? What was the exchange, and how could I…? 

“It’s perfect.” I was swallowing tears and a bit of bitter reality. “And like he said, it– it’s good for a growing family. For Jack and for–”

“For us.” He tried to softly fill in my blank, but it wasn’t right.

Because I knew the answer I wanted to put there: for Jack and then for your baby. That’s what I could offer, right? That third bedroom would eventually be Jack’s and this nursery could be for what was really his. I couldn’t believe I was thinking about a second before there was even a first, but that was the natural progression. It was laid out just like this floor plan– three bedrooms.

He stole away one of his hands to clear the mist from his eyes. “Jack’ll only last in here a little while.” What was that look on his face? What was that smile? “Doc said he’s already big, right? So he’ll need his space.” Soul glanced back towards the door, nodding off across the living room. “Give him the big bedroom and then you and me can turn this into an office. Put in some pocket doors. That’s what Viv did, and I gotta say I like the idea, especially since sometimes we could both work from home, and–” He cut off with a grin, laughing at himself. “Sorry, he’s not even here yet and I’ve got him grown in my head.”

Office? Maybe I needed to clean out my ears. Three bedrooms. Not two bedrooms and an office. Three bedrooms. “What about…?”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

Your baby. Fear bit into me, and I felt Jack shift. My hand instinctively went for the swell and was met by Soul’s.

“What about?” he prompted quietly, his gaze searching mine.

I still couldn’t offer up the words, so I danced as closely to it as I could: “Don’t we– won’t we need another bedroom?”

This sent his eyebrows to work, furrowing before sliding upwards again. A dry, quick laugh left his mouth. “Oh.” His reply was terrifyingly short, and the urge to run fluttered through my muscles. “That’s– yeah, that’s something we should talk about before…” Soul cleared his throat, trying to scare away another nervous laugh. “So, I– I guess I wanna say that I’m not– I don’t think I need that third bedroom. You know I’m not saying that I don’t want Jack— you know that I do —but that’s enough. I mean, I technically still can’t even–” He cut that off with a blustery sigh pressed through his lips.

“But–” I started– stopped– shelved the resistance in my mind: But what if when you can have sex, you want it? If it’s just that standing in the way, which might not last forever…

His question came with all the fragility of annealed glass: “Is that something you want?”

No. The swiftness of the answer in my heart brought tears to my eyes again. No, but I would for you. I would suck it up and do it for you because–

Concern creased his forehead again. “Maka, is that something you want?”

“After Jack”—that phrase alone made my heart ache—“wouldn’t you want a baby of your own?”

Surprise flashed across his features before I watched his jaw clench. He was biting on something bitter. “Does that mean… we talked about Jack being mine. About me being a dad to him.”

“I’m not saying that,” I pressed back, but all of it was crumbling in my weakness. My own selfishness was showing its face, except mine was taking something away from him. “But I understand that he– you might want more because–”

“No.” I had never heard him utter such finality in a word. The next thing I knew I was all wrapped up in his arms again, squeezed until there was no space between us. “I don’t need more than that.” The flood had returned, bitter and burning at the back of my throat. I dug my face into his shirt, barely bringing in hitches of air as I clung to him. “And I get that we gotta talk about stuff like this, but this feels like one of those things that we let lie for now. Jack's not even here yet.”

A wave of self-loathing hit me, crushing the air from my lungs. That question had been on repeat between the two of us– taking different shapes but always essentially the same skeleton. I had acquiesced so many times with my words, but it always seemed to be a stubborn stain on my heart that couldn’t be erased. It was as if genetic material made it impossible to erase Brian’s name from the equation. I had to do better, I had to– “This is going to be our home. You, me, and Jack.”

That firm promise brought a sigh of relief from his lips. “Glad I don’t have to fight you about it.”

No, Soul. Not fight you, but…


“I don’t like this.” Liz was on me before I even got two steps into the lobby. “I don’t like this,  and I don’t like that Soul’s not here, and I don’t like that I can only assume you didn’t tell him!” She was close enough that her hissing whisper had the same effect as a yell.

As if to safeguard my heart from any further accusations, I clutched the folder closer to my chest. The bottom scraped along my belly, awakening Jack who, at this point, always had something to say. My nerves had also had him on the move today– sickness putting pressure on my guts and lungs. “I didn’t. And you and Tsu have to keep that secret until this is over.”

“But what is this?” she almost squealed back, hand flying towards the restaurant. “That asshole is already here, sitting so damn smugly that I wanted to slap him at least ten times. You're lucky Tsu is his server because she could pull off being nice to Jeffrey Dahmer if necessary but I’m–” With an exasperated sigh and a toss of her head, Liz finally lost the fight and dropped her shoulders. “Please tell me you’re not leaving Soul. That this is some– I don’t know, but please.”

At least on that topic I could breathe a sigh of relief: “I’m not leaving him. This is… I think this is what I have to do so that it doesn’t end up that way.”

Liz let skepticism paint her frown while she pondered the intricacies of my ambiguity. She finally stepped back, arms crossed. “Do you want me to walk you in? I can’t promise I’m not going to punch him in that bitch-ass face of his.”

Same, probably. I shook my head, expelling a short laugh with the back and forth. “I should do this by myself.” Was this dusting off my old bits of bravery? I wasn’t entirely sure. This was a squeaky, old gear that needed oil but each step into the room came with less friction.

As always, it was as if Brian had no need to pay attention to the world around him. He already had work splayed on the table– never one to go somewhere without it. Intimacy, a nice lunch face to face with the one you love—or I guess, in this case, used to love—was never an act he was well-practiced at. Though, it wasn’t as if I needed him to be now. In fact, it was this side of him that I hope stayed– no more forays into what used to be.

The sound of my shuffle lifted his head, piercing blue eyes only spending a second on my face before falling to analyze the swell of my stomach. “Thank you for coming.” I tried to be as magnanimous as possible, but banished any bit of nervousness I could find. In many ways, he was a predator, and any hint of blood would be enough to alert him.

“I’m surprised you came without your little guard dog.” The left corner of his lip threatened to quirk, whether a smirk or a sneer was yet to be seen.

I eased into the chair, carefully placing my folder on the white linens. “This is business,” I stated as blandly as I could, but I couldn’t keep my heart in check. It lurched and lunged against my ribs. “We have to discuss the baby.”

“We’ve discussed it,” he spat dismissively before giving all his attention back to his own spread. Brian was instantly back to shuffling papers, trying to turn me into a spot in the periphery.

I opened the folder, taking out the heft of paper barely kept together with a binder clip. Though I couldn’t measure the preciousness of it, I still tossed its bulk into Brian’s sights, smashing the other paperwork out of his hand. “By the time I leave here, you are going to sign this. Marie is waiting outside to act as a notary.”

A derisive laugh bubbled from his throat. “Which means that bat-shit uncle of yours wrote this up, didn’t he? What creative, experimental law is he dabbling with here?” Brian scooped up the papers, ready to throw them back in my face.

“If I have to summarize”—Maka, sit up straight, eyes forward, no trembling, no crying, just rage—“it’s the termination of any and all claim to parental rights.”

His eye twitched, mouth fighting to remain motionless. Finally, his lips parted to hiss: “Why would I have to do any of this for a child that isn’t mine?”

No matter how many times he parroted that line, I couldn’t escape the stinging, bitter fury that it brought. Still, I had to tamp it down since this was a negotiation. It had to be. I had to do this for my family. “If you don’t sign this, we’ll do a paternity test. Stein has already written up a court request. I’ll make sure to alert your office of your court date where any judge would approve the request, especially since I’ll require child support. That will of course mean visitation for you, which I’ll happily schedule so that anyone else who plans on coming into your life—a woman worth marrying, perhaps—will know about your illegitimate child.”

The clinks of silverware and the low murmur of people talking filled the space of his silence. We stared, a dangerous game of chicken barreling towards its end. “You’d drag me through the mud just to–”

“It’s not mud, it’s life,” I corrected. “But consider how your partners will feel. Imagine what will happen to your paycheck, your lifestyle. Unless you want to keep believing I’m bluffing.” I paused for a tiny prayer, hands clasped under the swell of my belly. “I have no problem dragging myself through this mud if it means protecting my baby.”

He crumpled the corners in his fists. “Why bother?”

It was my turn to expel a breathy laugh. “Because I want to cut ties.” The statement in itself was freeing, bolstering my hope for that final euphoria of his signature across the page. “All this mud can be avoided if you just sign. No proof of paternity, no child support, no need to ever see my son. You sign now and it’s as if none of this ever happened. You can forget what we were, what we did, and move on to that perfect Brian lifestyle that you’re so used to.”

Brian’s glare dropped to the page, scanning each line. He started to leaf, each turn of paper bringing my heart back to life. In the midst of the fluttering, Tsu made a circuit, indigo eyes blinking out questions about my safety. I didn’t have to hide the quick squeeze of her hand since Brian was still entirely engrossed in the world of legal jargon. It was an agonizing wait to the last page, watching as Brian’s lips pursed while he glared at the white abyss above each line.

Sign it, I wanted to urge, but my breath was driven away by a roll of my stomach. Everything contracted, tightly wound twine spelling out my fear and hope as they bled into one.

His gaze finally flicked upward to my face. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” I replied roughly, “so make your decision.”

He reached into the pocket beside his lapel, taking out that famous monogrammed pen of his. “Call Marie in from the car.”


I’d lost count of the revolutions from ground floor to the penthouse. The bellhop—was that still a thing?—had been kind enough to offer me a platform dolly so at least it wasn’t an ascent and descent per box. Anyone with a baby can tell you though that the junk that comes along with ‘em is at least ten boxes on its own, not to mention Maka and me’s personal stuff.

The big pieces had been delivered by a company the day before—you know, all those contraptions I spent hours putting together already—so I assured Maka that just me was gonna be enough to make the rounds. Maybe I sorta regretted that, especially since Blake owned me at least a little grunt work for all the beers. Still, I made it to the bitter end with only a few new callouses to show for it.

The elevator dinged, doors still cranking open as I slipped through so my sneakers could hit the marble. Now, the silhouette that graced the doorway had me joyful for a split second. That definitive swell of pregnancy was there so my mind was fooled until my gaze focused out the glare of the windows: there, standing impatiently at the doors, was Clara.

Equilibrium was lost.

Sneakers skidded to a halt.

The angry sound of rubber against polished floors.

The even more cacophonous screech of my heart tearing open.

“There you are,” she started, and all the past came rushing back. 

It’d all obviously been a daydream. Maka– Jack– my job– my brother– all of it must have been a prolonged hallucination. “Clara…” The note of her name trembled off my lips, vibrating down to my shoes. I took a step back, reeling as if the elevator would save me now– unspit what was spat into a world that shouldn’t exist. Clara, pregnant. Clara, here. Clara, Clara, Clara–

“Well?” She started to close the distance between us. “Aren’t you at least going to ask me how I am? Can’t you see I’m–”

“Pregnant,” I finished, suddenly finding horror in a word that before had been so sweet to me. Maka– Jack– my job– my brother– nothing more than a fever dream. “How did you– How–?”

A derisive sputter of a laugh catapulted from her lips to smack me in the face. “What? I assume you know the motions since you impregnated that little bitch.”

The color splattered and dripped to the floor as it drained from my face. “Don’t–”

My warning was nothing but a gnat buzzing next to her ear, flicked away with the turn of her chin. “I really just had to see it for myself…” 

Why? Why was this happening?

“Esme said you’d taken an apartment here with her…” 

Her pitch started to blend into my panic, striking at my nerves like a hammer-on. 

“You had the nerve to come here of all places! You know everyone from our circle is either here or next door, and with your brother in the same building, they’re all going to see–” Her hand shot out, claws threatening to rip into the sinew of my wrist.

I don’t know what it was exactly that tore away the veil. I wanted it to be just dumb bravery– borne solely of the fact that it should exist within me. Instead, it was Maka’s voice coming back with all the fury I knew her capable of:

“You can’t be mad about a scratch on my arm if you can’t be enraged by what she’s done to your heart!”

That was an order, one bolstered by my own threat that Clara would never have the chance to get near my family. I’d cowered– always cowered, but as she reached for me, I let the iron of Maka’s voice reinforce my spine. Clara’s trajectory was spot-on, but all it took was for me to drop my hand to spin the momentum, using her force to let me trap her arm low. “No.” It blistered my tongue to breathe that word to life but I forced it anyway. It wasn’t a roar but, Death, at least it was something.

She had the nerve to be indignant: “Let go of me!”

“I warned you before”—my voice was no longer a pathetic whisper, that ‘no’ bolstering the new force I’d found— “that I wouldn’t tolerate you comin’ anywhere near me or my family again. Comin’ to our home is just that.” Honestly, I wanted to drop her arm because hurting her wasn’t my aim, but I knew what would happen as soon as she was free. I stood firm, adding just enough pressure to keep Clara from proving me right. “So you’re gonna leave. Now.” I hadn’t expected the emphasis to grip the curve of each letter like it did, but I watched it hit her harder than any physical strike I could have given.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” she hissed but barely seemed to have the breath for it.

For all of my vigor, I was starting to feel the drain and the grey fog that threatened to dull my ability to answer. I have to hold on– I have to fight–

If you’d have ever told me that Blake would become the deus ex machina I needed, I probably would have laughed in your face, but just as that tingling panic laced with dissociation was about to numb out every last limb I had, a cry resounded to snap every head in the lobby: “Soul—fucking—Evans!”

Clara’s chin snapped towards him, disgust registering just as quickly.

“Blake…” I started but there was nothing but a dumbfounded end of breath and blinking.

His sneakers answered as he booked it over to us, hard glare falling on Clara before turning to me. “Whatever this is, you don’t have time for it. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Yeah, okay, I was still struggling for air. 

Even worse, Clara found the strength to upend herself from my grip. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are–”

“Listen, bitch,” Blake barked as he grabbed me by the shirt and managed to yank me—in the nicest way possible, if that’s a thing—to his side. “My best friend’s about to have a baby and she wants this asshole there. So whatever you think you’re doing, you’re not. C’mon, Mr. Cool.”

Without apology or a glance back, Blake was dragging me towards the doors and out into the sunlight. I’d never been so glad to be in his way, but– Wait, did he say ‘have a baby?’ That disjointed world I’d been sinking into snapped away instantly. “Wait, Blake, what happened?”

“Can’t you put two and two together?” he replied with little patience as he popped open the passenger side and tossed me towards the opening. “Marie called– they’re en route to the hospital. Maka almost popped out the kid at your old job.”

I couldn’t decide which part of this should take the cake when it came to creating panic. Well, actually, I could. I really, really could because as the door shut behind me to engulf me in the temporary silence of the cab, all of the overlaying mess stripped away to leave me with a dichotomous reality: I was about to be a dad.