A/N: It is times like these that Liz prefered being alone. The fascinating characters of Soul Eater do not belong to me but to their creators. This is actually another drabble gone awry and thus, has been posted as a one-shot. With that, ENJOY!

Double

He was vulnerable, lying under her palm limp and lifeless, his naturally fair skin taking on a tone of paleness tinged with translucency that was nearly ghostly. The usual strength that seemed embedded into his very bones had abandoned him, leaving behind a softness that had nothing to do with tenderness and everything to do with weakness. He was shaking, a minute trembling that nobody but the most perceptive would have picked up. Then again, Liz was nothing if not perceptive when it came to those she loved, and Death the Kid was someone who had become irreplaceable.

She remembered a time, very vividly, with terrifying clarity, of how Patti had lain in her arms once, completely silent and still. Every ounce of her energized spirit had deserted her, reducing her to an empty shell of shaking silence. That had scared the wits out of Liz, who was so used to relying on her sister's endless optimism, unending energy and spirit. It was always frightening to see an invulnerable being reduced to shattered shards of strength, to cradle the body of one so sure and confident, and feel it tremble under the pressure of injury and death. The memory of her sister, bloodstained and cruelly torn apart, was overlaid by the very real image of Kid, black clothes stained even darker by the growing puddle of blood that seeped from every slight cut, every vicious slash, every gaping wound. Liz had been scared when Patti could not be woken. Now, she was downright terrified that Kid would not wake.

And, she wondered why. Why was she so completely overwhelmed by suffocating panic? Why did the wave of emotions threaten to drown her? Why did Kid's seeming vulnerability hit her so much harder than Patti's had, even though Patti was her own sister? Why?

Gazing into Patti's own terrified eyes, she understood. When Patti had been injured, Liz had been alone in her fright. Many would consider that much worse, but Liz knew that it had been much better. If it was only her who had witnessed the tragedy, it was only her who would doubt, who would fear. It was only one person, and against all odds, the fears of one person seemed insignificant in contrast to the all encompassing hope of survival.

However, seeing the shared terror in eyes so similar to hers, reflected in painful symmetry, it fed the doubts, it fed the fears, and in turn, it echoed between the both of them. It was made worst that these negative emotions, this hopeless despair, came from the one person they had each trusted above everyone else, the one person each knew would never lie to them. It made it much worse for Liz to know that Patti, whom she trusted unconditionally, who would never lie to her, her very own sister, felt the same doubts, the same fear that she herself could feel. Their soul resonance was vibrating, not in the usual invigorating pressure of power, but in the strained and trembling pressure of appalling fear and anguish. True, if more than one person had witnessed a tragedy, they could share the pain, the panic.

But, it could also be doubled. Between Patti and Liz, the doubts were doubled, the fear was doubled.

Kid could die.

And, the certainty of it had doubled.