Soul Eater is (c) Atsushi Ohkubo. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved, and all that stuff for my last story.

The idea for this one came from watching the opening during episode 37. Not like there was anything special about that episode's opening, but watching Soul scream while holding an unconscious Maka in his arms kinda made me think about their ~*relationship*~ and stuff. Their love is so canon, it hurts. Nonetheless, this unintentionally turned out to be ridiculously fluffy. I apologize. Critiques, suggestions, toasty souls of the damned, all that kind of stuff is appreciated.

Most of the time, it was easy for Soul to overcome his insanity. Ever since the revival of the kishin, the black blood flowing inside Soul's body had made that damned imp chattier than ever, but the boy still knew all of the little bastard's tricks. Still, there were nights when the madness would infect his dreams, as if someone had injected a hypodermic syringe of the stuff right into his brain. It poisoned his mind, made him want to do terrible things. Each time, the nightmare was the same. The little demon would encourage him, push him farther and farther into the dark room, until Soul could feel himself being consumed by the darkness.

Or was he consuming it? He would devour the madness, craving more and more, abandoning his sanity, up until the second when he felt he would absolutely lose his mind, and then... he would wake up, his body trembling and coated in a cold sweat. Luckily, at this point Soul had learned not to scream anymore. Too often his cries were so loud they would wake Maka, whereupon she would rush to his bedside to calm him in the middle of the night. He didn't want to worry her anymore, and so over time he trained himself to keep quiet during these "episodes," until he had Maka believing that his nightmares were gone for good.

Maka, on the other hand, could not contain herself as well as Soul could. The black blood that infected him had infected her as well. The only difference between the two of them was that Soul knew how to deal with it better than she did. He had fought with his own personal insanity even before Medusa's black blood had been mixed with his own. Therefore, it was no surprise to Soul when it was he who was woken up in the middle of the night by Maka's nightmares.

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The tiny digital clock on Soul's nightstand glowed the numbers 2 and 30, and the letters A and M when a piercing cry woke him violently from his sleep. He sat up in his bed, rubbed his eyes and sleepily wondered exactly what had woken him. It wasn't until a second cry shattered the silence in the dormitory that he realized it was Maka, and in an instant Soul was fully alert. Never before had he heard such a terrified scream. He ripped off his bed covers and ran out into the hallway. His bare feet pounded heavily on the carpeted floor as he reached Maka's room. The screaming continued.

"MAKA!"

From the moon's light shining through her bedroom window, Soul could see Maka's pale face twisted into a painful expression, the sweat dripping down her cheeks staining her pillow. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was breathing hard; her chest heaved up and down as she lay on her side, her hands twitched as they rested near her face. She screamed again, and thrashed her arms from side to side, and kicked her blankets off of her bed. Soul ran to her side, narrowly dodging a fist that flew in his direction. He knelt down next to Maka and grabbed her hand. It was freezing cold. "Maka," he shouted, "wake up! You're dreaming!" The girl choked out a sob.

"N... n-no! S-stop!" she cried, her tears mixing with sweat. Soul put a hand on her shoulder and shook her firmly.

"Wake up, Maka!" She continued to cry, shaking her head violently from side to side, causing Soul to become more agitated. Just the sight of her tears alone knotted his insides; he had never seen Maka cry like this before, and he couldn't imagine what sorts of nightmares she was experiencing now. Or maybe he could. Either way, he knew he needed to wake her. Now.

"Maka!" He closed his eyes and slapped her across the face. Maka gasped sharply for breath as her huge green eyes snapped open. Soul froze in his tracks for a moment as his technician regained her bearings somewhat, then breathed a sigh of relief. She could bitch at him for slapping her later. Maka's damp hair clung to her cheeks as she turned her head to look at Soul, who was watching her with a concerned expression on his face.

"Soul... " she breathed, still gasping for air.

"You were having a bad dream," he replied, squeezing her hand. "A... are you okay?"

Maka quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand. She gazed at Soul for a moment before fixating her eyes on the grey ceiling, allowing her respiration to return to normal. "I... I'm fine. I'm okay. Thanks." She turned back to Soul, who didn't look convinced. "R-really, Soul. I'm okay." She tried her best to flash a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"No, Maka, it's okay." Soul shook his head, leaning forward. He was trying his best to appear relieved (which he was), but he couldn't erase the worried, practically painful, expression on his face. This was the second time this month that Maka had had a nightmare like this. One that had been difficult for her to wake from. The effects of the black blood were obviously only getting worse. "What did you see in your dreams? Can you tell me?" He wondered if she dreamt of the same things he did.

Maka turned her head to the other side, away from Soul. "N-not really," she said softly. She stared at the wall this time, attempting to stuff all the horrible imagery she had just witnessed back into her subconscious. She didn't want to see them anymore. Ever. Even more, however, she didn't want Soul to see her like this; helpless, crying like a baby. The two stayed silent for a moment, seemingly frozen in place: Soul, kneeling at Maka's side, holding her hand, and Maka, staring at the wall. The tableau shattered quickly once Maka's shoulders began to visibly shake as she viciously fought back tears.

"Maka, no. No... " Soul pleaded. "It's okay... " Practically jumping to his feet, he rushed to the other side of the bed, but Maka retaliated and turned her head to the other side, refusing to let him see her cry. "Maka!" he growled, annoyed now. Swiftly Soul got onto the bed and swung his leg over her midsection, his body bent over hers. "Look at me!" he demanded.

"FINE!"

Maka glared at him. Tears dripped down her cheeks, one, two at a time. Her lips were trembling, threatening to burst forth with the sobs she was choking down. "It's okay if you're scared!" Soul cried. "I know" --his voice cracked unexpectedly-- "I know what you're going through, okay? You know that we both have the black blood!" By this point Soul's face was hovering inches above Maka's, his ruby-red eyes glowing. His hands had pinned down her wrists to prevent any more attempts on her part to hide her tears."We're partners. I'm here for you... okay?" His whole body now pleaded for her to listen to him. "I'm always here, Maka."

Maka cried. She sobbed, shaking her head from side to side. Her tears fell on her pillow, seeped into her hair, dripped down her chin, soaked whatever they landed on. "I... I h-hate this, Soul," she choked. Her sobs intensified. "I-I... hate these... dreams... "

"It's okay, Maka." Soul was trembling now, fighting back his own tears. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned down slowly and kissed Maka gently on her forehead. He forced all the warmth and protection he could summon from his body into that kiss, as though it would be able to protect her for the rest of her life.

"Soul... ?" Maka stopped crying, startled by the boy's sudden display of affection. It was strange, to say the least. Strange, yet for all the world she felt so comforted through his kiss that she didn't care. Soul leaned back and grinned, flashing a glimmer of sharp pointed teeth.

"The weapon protects its master," he laughed softly. "Right?"

"Y-yeah... " Maka nodded and smiled through a fresh batch of tears that began to form. Choking down another sob, she threw her arms (having long since been freed from Soul's grip) around his neck and pulled him close, pressing her lips to his. Ah. There was that comforting feeling again, spreading like wildfire from the tips of her fingers down to her toes. Soul was here to protect her.

In that one kiss Soul could feel all of Maka's trust, all her fear, all her strength, and in that moment their souls resonated louder than any battlefield could elicit from them. He wiped the tears from her face just as his own dripped down to replace them. Their kiss was tinged with salt, but it was the warmest, sweetest, strongest kiss either of them could have ever imagined.

What felt like an eternity later, Soul let his forehead rest on his technician's pillow, his body still hunched over hers, his elbows feeling ready to give out as they propped him up. The pillow was still damp, but cool and refreshing. He was exhausted, and as the two lay in silence he took the opportunity to let a wandering eye admire Maka from the side. Her dirty blonde hair stuck to her face in odd clumps and strands, her eyes were puffy and as red as her nose, her cheeks were flushed. She looked something along the lines of a beautiful disaster. Or maybe that was a better description of himself. For the moment he couldn't discern where Maka Albarn ended and Soul Eater Evans began. Maybe that was true soul resonance. He sighed, unable to think properly anymore. "Maka?"

"Hm?"

"I'm always here," Soul repeated quietly. "Don't forget it."

"Mm." Maka nodded, smiling lightly. "I know."