I just got inspiration from this quote one day and this fic was born soon afterwards!! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

~*Write injuries in dust, benefits in marble.*~ – Benjamin Franklin.

Dust And Marble

Pain.

God damn, it hurt.

Jumping in at the last second like the cool, hero guy always did. Soul was a bit proud of himself at first, until he realized just how freaking bad it would hurt. He didn't think it was going to be that bad; maybe the fact that he'd taken the hit instead of Maka would spare him some agony, like getting a second life in a video game or some extra credit on a test.

But noooo. He could never get a break.

He knew it would leave a scar for quite some time after that, yet he thought about how cool he'd feel when remembering the huge battle scar he obtained for his partner's sake.

Well, maybe he'd brag about it later.

Everything was getting fuzzy at the moment. He felt something hard smack him in the face. Would it kill anyone to carpet a church floor every once in a while?

He thought he could feel arms around him, and he knew he should have know who's arms they were, but he just…couldn't remember right now.

Damn it hurt like Hell.

Even some cool guy like him, couldn't ever catch a break.

Waiting was hard.

And scary.

It always was, and always will be, in any and all situations. And Maka's was no exception.

Waiting outside of his hospital room was hard because she didn't get to see him, actually see him, and that alone just made it scary. It was also scary because Professor Stein stayed in there for quite a while and no one gave her any information about her partner's condition until the operation was finished.

It was hard waiting inside his room because she could see his face. He looked as though he were sleeping, which she hoped he was and not totally unconscious or in a coma. But it was hard waiting in there because it was so still and quiet; which is part of what made it scary.

It was scary because he wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't open those piercing crimson eyes to meet her dull, worried olive-green ones. But for the first few days, it seemed like they'd never open up to give her that relief she so badly sought from them. All she wanted was a little sign, and all that time she waited felt like eons, sluggishly passing like lazy, dark clouds on a day with no breeze.

But she stayed strong; or at least, she put on a brave face that made everyone else believe she was staying strong.

Deep down, she was tearing herself apart. Constantly, she cursed herself and told herself what a horrible partner, what a horrible person she was for not being able to save herself, and making him jump in to defend her. But she also tried, in vain, at times, to tell herself that moping around, feeling sorry for her poor, useless self and doing nothing, was worse that actually doing something incorrectly.

So she sucked it up, held back the majority of her tears and dealt with her internal problems by herself.

After all, that wound on his chest was her scar as well.

Maka held on tightly, tighter than she'd ever held onto anything else in her entire life before.

One hand held Soul, the hard, cold metal rough against her fingertips but she'd die before she let him fall from this height.

What height, you may ask?

The height of however high up into the tunnel of Earth that the Kishin had molded. Her other hand held fast to a strip of bandages dangling off from its hideous form, her fingers grasping so firmly that her nails dug painfully into her palm.

She bowed her head and gritted her teeth as rocks showered down from up above her. Once the Kishin had loosened them, they fell - God knows how fast - and struck her, as she flew up at them at God knows how many miles per hour.

Pebble after pebble, from rock to soil and everything in between, it all came pouring down on top of her all in the course of a few mere minutes which lasted, just as long as those slowly-moving clouded, eons.

Each time something hit her, she gripped Soul tighter as the scythe's blade dug into the soil beneath them, constantly knocking her back and forth. Her eyes were squeezed shut, possibly tighter than her grip on the bandages and her weapon combined. Her arms had long since been numb from pain, one stretched beyond its limit upwards and the other in the opposite direction.

Every second was another rock striking her body from some angle.

Only when she was about half-way conscious did she fully begin to realize her situation. She was in the Earth, surrounded on all sides by nothing but miles and miles of dirt and grit, a muscle-straining, rollercoaster ride of agony upwards, and a deadly drop to Hell and beyond downwards.

Not good.

She didn't know how much longer she could hold on. Her body was aching from the assault of pebbles and she was vaguely aware of the all-too-familiar feeling of warm blood seeping slowly from her skin. Her arms, hands and fingers screamed wildly for her to let go, lest they tear right off of her body, and it took all of her self-control and half-conscious determination to not obey them. Her legs hung uselessly underneath her, doing absolutely nothing but reminding her of her weight, dragging her back down toward the ground that was just begging to shatter her, as gravity would have it.

Her lungs were burning because she couldn't find time to breathe, or perhaps she just couldn't remember how. She was enclosed in a tunnel of Earth, the whole world enclosed her from the left, right and bottom, and a demon with murderous intention that would put a pack of starving hyenas to shame above her.

She was suffocating; she knew she was. She couldn't even remember if she was using her lungs properly or at all anymore.

Her eyes were tired of seeing nothing but black, and she wondered a few times if all this was real, or if she should just obey her body, let go, and go to sleep…

Maka…

Her eyes snapped open so fast she got dizzy and almost lost her grip which easily would have been the end of both her and Soul.

She wasn't sure if he had just spoken now, or if he was communicating with her through her mind or if she had just recalled his voice. Nonetheless, she realized just how much the grip of both of her hands had slackened, and she hastily squeezed them so hard that she felt the blood that was still under her skin flow away from her fingers.

She coughed as dust filled her mouth and throat, causing a dryness in her mouth that was too, insanely unbearable. Her eyes closed again but not before she was able to catch sight of a faint wash of light filtering down from the rocks above her.

A second later, there was a huge explosion from above her, like a volcano erupting in a library.

She thought all of those little rocks falling on her from above had hurt.

Oh how wrong she was.

After the Kishin had burst through the ceiling of that dark tunnel, which was the ground of the world above, boulders that must have weighed almost a ton each, or at least felt that way, came crumbling down on her. She braced herself with everything she had, every final ounce of consciousness and shred of confidence that she still held onto.

But the collision was out of this world; it literally blew her away.

The second her body smashed against the rocks, however many there were, her body jerked so badly that she felt her bones shutter.

Instantly, the pressure in her arms was as searing as being torn apart by rabid dogs and she knew she was going to break unless she let something go. Without thinking, yet subconsciously knowing which hand was which, and which one grasped what, she released the bandages attached to the demon and poured all of her remaining strength into keeping her grip on Soul. She would keep him safe if it was the last thing she ever did, and she vowed it as she faintly remembered the image of him defending her and spurting blood because of it.

Then, just like that, the second she let go, she went tumbling back down towards the Earth. She couldn't make sense of anything anymore. The pain had made her numb, the lack of breath had made her dizzy and the elated feeling of free-fall made her light as a feather…

"MAKA!" A voice shouted from somewhere near her but she didn't know who it was or even what they had said. All she knew was that the cold that had been seeping into her flesh from her weapon's metal had disappeared.

Seconds later, she hazily felt a pair of strong arms around her, securing her firmly, but for what, she didn't know. Why was he holding her? Falling felt nice, and tranquil and …

An instant later, she was silently thankful for the arms across her shoulder and the body supporting hers for they landed, hard.

Really hard.

It felt like they had landed on a giant tree and fell all the way down through its trunk until they hit the roots. Debris flew up around them and dust collected in thick clumps. She heard Soul…yes, it was Soul, grit his teeth from the impact and his grip loosened around her.

That was all she needed; she knew he was okay now.

But somehow, something inside of her forced Maka to crack open her eyes for all of 10 seconds. She outstretched a trembling, throbbing arm, her fingers alabaster from lack of blood. Inaudible words tumbled from her mouth, something about defeating the demon…then her hand fell and her eyes closed, Soul's hand touched her shoulder, she let out one breath and then it was black…

Innumerable curses flew into Soul's mind as he hit the ground, Maka's weight from their fall plowing into him and pressing him to the debris that littered the ground.

Somehow, he miraculously managed to hold his tongue.

He cracked his eyes open and blinked away the clouds of dust that made them water.

Maka lay on top of him, panting shallowly, and then, she slowly reached her hand skywards, toward the Kishin, mumbled something in an agonized, drained whisper and then she went limp altogether.

Soul sat up, shifting her weight along with him. You're something else, Maka.

He was just voicing his words, though he was sure she couldn't hear him, when the Shinigami's Chains came blasting up through the hole in the ground they had just erupted from. He drew his unconscious partner closer to him defensively as he followed the long, black shapes with his eyes wide in shock and perhaps, an ounce of fear.

Only just then did he realize their situation. "Dammit." he growled, his gaze still locked on the ensnared Kishin who presently broke free from the Chains.

Soul knew they had to get out of there; someone else would fight this thing off, and teach it a lesson.

Personally, he would have liked to give it just one, good-old solid punch to its ugly face, but there was no time for that now.

Soul moved around until he had Maka's arms slung loosely across his shoulders. He lifted her up on his back and stood, wobbling at first from his aching body, cause by his fall. Stealing one last glance over his shoulder at the Kishin, he cursed it in his mind before quickly heading off toward Shibusen, along with his unconscious partner.

Maka breathed in deeply, letting the warm, Spring air fill her lungs to total capacity.

Presently, Soul and she were taking a slight detour on their way home from school.

Fingers interlocked behind her back, she took big steps along the sidewalk, sometimes almost skipping.

Soul's hands were in his pockets and his posture was slumped, as usual, and anyone else would have thought he was bored beyond belief. But Maka could tell he was enjoying this too, by the small little things that only she could recognize; the lightness of his steps, the relaxed position of his shoulders, the small sparkle in his eyes…

Her body still ached a little from the wounds she had received in the recent battle, but for the most part, she felt rejuvenated and hyper, like a fawn after a good night's sleep. Soul was also feeling on top of his game, though Soul being in a good mood wasn't nearly the same as someone like, say, Black Star, being in a good mood.

The two friends walked aimlessly for a while, enjoying the simple tranquility of the things in the world around them. They never even realized when the pebbles and gravel beneath their sneakers turned to soft, squishy grass, or when the droning and chattering of people became the droning of bees and the chattering of birds and squirrels.

They found themselves standing on top of a small hill in a valley, residing in a park. It gave them a gorgeous view of the sun as it retired for the day, slowly shrinking beneath the pointed peaks of the distant mountains. The sky was a milky pink which faded into light orange mixed with gold. The clouds were lined with pale purples and blues, making them resemble flavored cotton candy.

Soul and Maka sat down in the grass, quietly enjoying everything for the moment, this rare, select kind of moment that people were only allowed to encounter once or twice a year.

They sat apart for a few moments, until, silently, Maka scooted closer to him. Like a cat who was unsure of something at first, she gradually slipped closer and closer until she was within a trusting distance. She then leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder as he leaned back on his hands.

It was moments like these when it was impossible, impossible, to think about all the problems in the world that normally crushed one's shoulders like blanketed, snow layered on thin tree branches.

It was times like these, when all past grudges and injuries were completely forgotten, pushed from the mind and rejected from the body with all of one's being, like poison.

And it was moments like these that deserved to take the places of those burdens, for the favorable things to replace the unsettling ones.

Unlike the petty squabbles and bruises obtained in the past and erased with time, these were the moments you kept forever.

She wanted to just babble and let everything on her mind pour out, tell him all that she was feeling and that she was thankful that he was alive, and that she was alive and that all their friends were alive. That she was grateful for being able to be his partner. But she didn't want to break the silence; at least, not yet, not now. Just enjoy the simple things. She thought to herself.

So the two stayed like that for a wonderful amount of time, silently kicking graveled dust over old wounds, and engraving the hope of another tomorrow in granite marble.

A/N: Hope you liked it!

PLEASE reivew!!