Resonance

One of Soul's earliest problems was with Soul Resonance.

It wasn't that the young Scythe couldn't preform the act. Actually, compared to some of the other students in his year, he was quite good at it. He was able to match with his partner's wavelength quickly, and produce enough resonance for them to be connected.

That was the problem.

He hadn't realized that connecting meant basically opening up his head, mind and memories to another person. Maka, to her credit, seemed just as freaked out by it as he had. Everything they'd ever held in their head was suddenly open to a person they hadn't known very long.

Because of that, Soul held back for a long time.

And for a while, it seemed to work.

With him closing off as much as he could, and still connecting Maka, they had been able to pull Witch Hunter, which pleased Maka to no end, but only made him feel more guilty.

If Witch Hunter was a possibility when he was holding back, what could he do when he wasn't?

Before Maka had been a soul reading expert, she hadn't noticed the way his soul would strain when they resonated, or how excessively tired he was after every session. She'd marked it down to his laziness, like he'd hoped she would, and he was able to keep his mind off limits to her that much longer.

Then, when Maka had turned 15, and Stein had called her a 'Soul Perception Prodigy', Soul knew he was fucked. Keeping her out was getting harder, and harder, and it's not like she hadn't been suspicious before. He couldn't keep her out of his memories, so he made sure it was the same ones, the order switched up every now and then to throw her off. Luckily, the Black Blood warped his soul to her just enough that, even though she knew something was wrong, she was never actually able to figure out just what was wrong.

But, after the extra perception lessons she and Kid had taken with Stein, the very next time they practiced resonating, she'd zeroed in on his lock, and anger flooded their bond. She opened her eyes and dropped the Scythe, arms crossed and waiting. Feeling like he'd just been caught with his hand up Blair's skirt, Soul switched back into a human. He sat on the ground pitifully, and looked up at her.

Anger wasn't even the right word to cover the emotion on her face. She was pissed, she was livid, she was murderous, and she was hurt too, hurt that it had taken her two years to realize how much of her partner was held back from her, and hurt that he'd even held back from her in the first place. He looked up at her, and grimaced. "Maka…"

"It's been two years, Soul! Do you have any idea how dangerous a block like that can be?! Especially during battle! That's a huge chunk of your energy you have focused on not letting me in! I know you've slept through every class you've had here, but surely you've picked up on what Resonance is supposed to do! You idiot, you need to be open to receive it, not hiding everything from me, it could get us killed!

"Not to mention," She continued her tirade. "Why would you even feel the need to hide yourself from me? I'm your partner, Soul. I don't care what you have in your head; I don't care about your past. I need your 'now', and I need to know that when we're putting our lives on the line, you're just as much with me as I am with you."

"Maka, I'm-"

"Just, forget it Soul." Maka growled, and walked away from him, leaving in in the secluded training ground. He fell on his back and pressed his hands into his eyes.

She was right, of course. He was screwing both of them over by focusing on locking part of himself during Resonance. But did Maka really need to blame him?

Yeah, you dumbass. She does. Obviously, because you're too stupid to realize that nothing you've got in your head will scare Maka away.

He did feel like a Jackass. Maka hadn't run away the day he'd sat there and played piano for her, and he put everything into that, trying to scare her away. She's only smiled and offered a partnership.

Maka wouldn't care what he had wrapped up in his head, and he should have known better.

"Fuck." He hissed, realization washing over him. "This is going to be seriously uncool."

When he went home that night, the apartment was mostly dark. It smelled like food, but there wasn't any sitting out for him on the table, which was a good indicator that Maka was still quite pissed at what he'd done. He sighed, and closed the door behind him, looking at Maka, who was blatantly ignoring him, watching some TV show while Blair was curled up sleeping in her lap.

"Maka…"

"Really not in the mood, Soul."

"I know, but I need to talk to you." He mumbled, and she tore her eyes from the TV program. Blair, waking up once Soul started talking, eyed her two kittens, and decided that it was time for her to relocate her nap to Soul's bed, where she wouldn't interrupt. After the Sexy Kitty was out of the room, he looked up at his partner with a plea on his face. "Maka…I'm sorry…"

"I don't get why you locked me out." She ground out. "I remember early Resonation, I know it was weird, having someone in your head, but I let you in mine! I gave you the freedom to wander all though my soul. I can't believe you never did the same. I just thought, because of the Blood, your soul was just harder to manage, so when we were fighting, the Black Blood kept you separated from me, I didn't realize it was you doing it."

"I…I know." He mumbled. "I know. I suck. I put your life in danger over this, and that's the one thing I'm not supposed to ever let happen. So let me fix it." He mumbled, cheeks painting over a red color. Maka lifted up an eyebrow, and stared at him.

"What?"

"I want to fix it, take down the lock." He mumbled again, unwilling to look at her. Maka felt herself blushing too. Most students, they unwillingly force their partner to go through all their deepest memories, fears, and emotions by accident, early on. They don't mean to share so much, but they end up doing it anyways.

Soul, had ended up finding a way to avoid it completely, and had never actually put Maka through that process. She had wondered about it, but since they were able to resonate completely well, and his wavelength was an open book to her, she'd assumed that Soul just didn't have much to tell. Now, Soul was offering to go through the worst part of the Weapon/Meister relationship, willingly, for her, so that she wouldn't feel hurt anymore, so that he could protect her better.

"You sure?" Maka asked, her eyebrows drawing together. She could remember the first time Soul had walked through her mind, through her memories. He'd seen the last fight her parents had before the divorce, the way they had yelled and screamed at each other, their words getting nastier with each passing insult, and neither of them giving a care about the little girl sitting on the stairs, listening to the two most important people in her life ripped each other apart.

Soul hadn't said anything about it to her, but she knew that he harbored a sense of anger at her father for that, and an even greater sense of hatred for her mother. He'd watched that memory too, it seemed every memory she'd wanted to hide was the one that was sent to Soul first. He watched as her mother packed up her things, kissed her daughter on the head, and told her to be strong.

Then she was just gone.

Maka looked at Soul, and she drew up her feet, to make room for him on the couch. Soul sat down on the couch and crossed his legs. She turned to face him, throwing her legs on either side of him so she could get as close as she needed. Soul flinched at the sudden contact, and he closed his eyes. Maka placed her hands on either side of his head, and pressed his forehead against hers. "Are you sure about this Soul?" Her breath felt cold against his lips, and that close, he could smell the mint leaves she liked to suck on after she's eaten.

"Yeah." He muttered, and she closed her eyes. Softly, she started nudging Soul's wavelength with hers, until he opened his soul to her.

She ended up in the Black Room; it's the first place she goes, because it's the only place in his soul that she's ever been. She looks around, the lights are dimmer than usual, and there isn't any music playing. Glancing down at herself, she realized that she's still in her skirt, and baggy sweatshirt that she was wearing in the physical world. "Everything's different."

"We're not fighting right now. When we're not fighting, the little fucker doesn't bother me as much." Soul explained. She turned and found him leaning against the wall, his eyes focused on the door that hadn't been there before. He looked at her, and she was surprised to see fear glazing over his red eyes. "Through there." He tossed her something, and she caught it, a small key in her hands. "Go crazy."

"You aren't coming?"

"When I went through your head, I did it alone. I figure it fair that you get the same courtesy."

Maka nodded and walked past him, her eyes focused on his shaking hands. "Hey." She looked up at him and smiled. "We're still going to be just fine after this. If anything, we'll be stronger. Don't look so scared." She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his forehead. "Okay?"

"Alright."

She stuck the key in the lock, and turned it. The knob followed her hand until it clicked, and the door opened to her, for the first time.

"Deep breath Soul."

"You too."

She walked through the door.

She walked until she could hear music.

That in itself didn't really surprise her, most of Soul was music, but she followed the sound anyways, curious as to where it might take her. She found herself walking into a concert hall, filled with people dressed to the nines, everyone milling around. Maka looked around harder, and finally, she found him. Soul was younger, way younger, maybe even ten, and he was sitting on a piano bench, pressing his fingers against the keys, but it wasn't the music Maka had come to associate with her partner. It was stiff, and it followed a pattern, whereas when Soul played, there was chaos and power and fear all rolling underneath his fingertips.

"Man, these things get worse and worse, huh little brother." A voice seemed to echo through the room, but no one else reacted to it. Maka looked back over at little Soul, and froze. Sitting next to him, was what looked like an even older version of the Soul she knew. His subconscious bristled at that, and Maka tried to be apologetic, but she couldn't help it.

He looked just like his brother.

"Wes, I'm bored." Soul sighed, tapping away on the keys. "When can we go home?"

"After Mom and Dad sign the deal on this place." Wes answered his brother. Wes was probably about her Soul's age, maybe a little older.

"Why don't you play instead?" Soul asked, looking around at the people. "That's why they're all here."

"You know Mom and Dad; they want to show off both of their talented kids." Wes smiled and ruffled Soul's hair, who groaned, but didn't even falter as he played the song.

"Wes, you suck."

"I know little brother, I know."

The next place she found herself was under the sink, in a kitchen.

It was awful, being suddenly shoved into a space she couldn't fit into, but she adjusted quickly, and looked around. Across from her, leaning against the wall, eye peeking out from the open cupboard, was Soul, a little older, maybe 11, with a cookie shoved into his mouth, and at least six more shoved into his hands.

"Glutton." She hissed, and his subconscious hissed back, but the little Soul under the sink with her kept his eyes on the outside of the barely cracked open cupboard. Maka, curious as well, opened the cupboard door closest to her slowly, and she saw two people sitting at the table in the large kitchen. They were both still dressed in very expensive suits, obviously just having arrived home from work, early, if the hidden boy under the sink who didn't want to get caught nicking food was any indication. The woman had long black hair, and Soul's bloody irises, while the man had snow white hair, and icy blue eyes. They were as cold as they were clear, and although it was impossible for him to know she was there, he seemed to be looking right at her.

"Celeste?" The man spoke, looking over to the woman. She looked back at him, eyebrow raised. "Did you hear Soul playing today?"

Next to her, little Soul stiffened, his face going blank.

"Yeah, I always hear Soul playing. You have him practicing all the time." The woman, Celeste, and who Maka slowly understood was Soul's Mother answered. "Why?"

"Did you hear it?"

"Yes, I already told you that."

"No, did you hear what's underneath it? The…added element he seems to put onto any piece of music he isn't directly sight-reading. Do you hear it, sometimes?"

"Soul is young, and he's a musician. You can't expect him to learn music, and play someone else's when he's slowly figuring out how to create his own." Celeste sighed, and ran a hand through her hair. "He's coming into his own, that's all."

"No, it's something different than that, something darker." The man sighed, and shook his head. "Something's off with that boy's music."

"Well, that's hardly a kind thing to say." Celeste chastised her husband, and in the cupboard, Soul looked down, eyes hard, hurt painted across his face. Maka could feel it too, feel the hurt that he felt hearing his father say that about him.

Knowing this, and knowing how Soul was with his music even now that he was away from his family, it broke her heart. He obviously loved that piano, but he couldn't seem to get anyone to hear what he was trying to say, because there was no way the words were getting passed his shark toothed mouth, there was no way he was going to release those words into reality, making them become a living thing. They belonged in the music.

Music that apparently no one understood.

The next memory was another one of those fancy parties, with people dressed up so nicely, drinking from small glasses and smiling at each other.

It wasn't hard to find the raincloud in the room.

Soul was leaned against the banister, his eyes closed, but his ears were all over the place.

Wes Evans' little brother.

They have two musical geniuses in one family? What are the odds of that?

When do you think he's going to start playing publically?

Oh, I saw this coming, remember when he would sit here as a child, and play music that stumped even me?

Maka walked over to Soul, and noticed, that his was her Soul. Scowl pained on his face as he listened to the people talk about him. This memory couldn't be any older than their partnership, two years at the most. His eyes met his brother's, across the room, and Wes waved him over, trying to get him to come talk to people. Soul forced a smile and shook his head.

"It's not me they want, big brother." Soul sighed, and turned his back on his brother, leaning over the banister, staring down at the rest of the music hall. Maka could feel the sudden pain that wracked through his hand, and the clenching of his teeth as he tried not to cry out against it. Another wave of pain shot through his hand, and he closed his eyes, careful not to draw attention to himself.

When he opened his eyes, there was a blade where his pointer finger should be.

She'd never seen Soul look so shocked in her life.

Soul was having a stare down with an old woman.

Her white hair was up in a bun at the top of her head, and her eyes are as blue as Soul's fathers. She was glaring into the eyes of the young boy, neither of them giving any indication of backing down. Finally the old woman leans her head back, and laughs. "Calm down boy, you're fine."

"Fine!? Having a freakin' knife pop out of my hand doesn't exactly seem fine to me!"

A rolled up newspaper was smacked against his face, and the old woman shook her head. "You don't talk like that to your Granny, understand boy?"

"Jeeze Granny." He growled, rubbing his face. "You couldn't use your words."

Maka smiled at the exchange, seeing a lot of parallels between Soul's Granny, and herself.

You don't know the half of it. Soul's subconscious whispered into the back of her soul, and she shook her head, laughing.

"Come on boy, use your brain. You know about Weapons." Granny told him, sitting back in her chair. Soul flinched, letting her words sink in. Of course the thought crossed his mind, but it never crossed his mind that he could be a Weapon. After all, there hadn't ever been a Weapon in his family before.

"Granny…I can't be…"

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show Granny your knife trick." Granny ordered, and Soul held out his hand. Maka felt the pain wash through his hand again, and she was taken aback. Did transforming hurt Soul every single time, and he'd just never said anything?

No, idiot. You figure out how to do it right, and you can't even tell the difference.

"I DON'T RECALL ADDING COMMENTARY TO YOUR TRIP! BACK OFF!" Maka screamed into the sky, and she felt his subconscious flinch under her pitch.

Finally, the Soul in the memory held his hand out, and forced himself to turn his pointer finger into a blade again. Granny's face went into complete awe, and she gently ran her finger across the blade. Soul immediately pulled away, looking terrified that he'd hurt her. She only smiled at him.

"Still dull, you have a long way to go kiddo."

"Granny…" Soul looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack, and Granny reached over and grabbed both of his hands in hers.

"You listen to Granny now. Soul, are you happy here?"

"I love my family-"

"I never said you didn't; Soul, are you happy here?"

Soul shook his head, and looked down, bright white hair covering his face. "No."

"Exactly. I don't think you've ever been happy! You're such an amazing person, and you deserve to be who you're meant to be. We've never had an active Weapon in this family, you deserve to go off to school and see what you can do and don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Soul Evans. You understand me?" Granny had grabbed his face and held it in her hands, talking into Soul's face, making sure his eyes were looking at hers. "You are worth it Soul, you deserve to be happy. The least this family could give you is an escape." Soul sniffed, and tried to look away, Maka was shocked to see the strain in his jaw that fought the quivering in his chin, and the shine in his eyes.

She'd never seen her partner cry before.

She was pulled from that memory so quickly, she wasn't sure Soul didn't have something to do with it.

She didn't get a single conformation or denial from his subconscious. Maka only continued walking, no longer being passed from memory to memory, she was once against walking down a corridor, no doors, no window, no nothing. She sent an annoyed feeling through their bond, but Soul didn't answer.

To her left, another door came into view, and Maka looked at it. Something about this door freaked her out, it didn't give off the sense of her partner that the other door had. Whatever this was, this is what he had intended to lock away.

She still held the key in her palm, and she wondered if she shouldn't turn back. He'd already shown an amazing level of trust for her, letting her come this far. She'd learned things she'd always wanted to know about her partner, without his roundabout stupid explanation where he told her nothing, but put in a lot of extra words.

"Soul," she whispered into the darkness, trying to feel for her partner. "Are you sure?"

Suddenly, Soul was leaning against the wall next to the door. His arms were crossed, eyes closed and facing the ground. "I'm sure. You're my partner Maka, you deserve to know."

"Soul, you've already shown me more than enough, you don't have to." Maka offered him the key, but he only put in back into her hands, and used his hand to wrap her fingers around it.

"It's fine Maka." Soul gave her a small smile. "The lock puts you in danger, so we're gonna take the lock down."

"Soul-"

"Maka." He growled. "Just go, please."

Maka only nodded, and put the key into the door. She turned the lock, and opened the door. Instantly, the Soul next to her was gone, and screams filled every corner of her hearing. Ignoring the grating noise, she followed the sound deeper into the darkness, until she found herself back in the same kitchen she'd been hiding in with little Soul earlier, except this time, Soul was sitting at the table, looking very much like he had when she first met him. She had to be getting closer to when she entered his timeline.

Soul, was sitting at the table, his face blank while his father yelled at him, at his mother, and even Wes.

"You're not leaving here to go live some crazy life as a Weapon! You're an Evans, and you know just as well as I do that you're a genius at the piano, you don't need to go off into the desert to die!"

"I'm dying here!" Soul argued. "I'm not happy here, you have to know that!"

"You ungrateful brat!" His father screamed at him, and Wes stood in front of his brother.

"Let Soul go! He can't fill out his potential here!"

"Soul's potential can be met as long as he as a fucking piano in front of him."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO CAN'T STAND MY PLAYING! DON'T FUCKING SIT THERE LIKE YOU CARE ALL OF A SUDDEN!" Soul had popped up from where he was sitting, hands slammed against the table, his red eyes trained on his father, who had frozen from his usually silent son's outburst. "After all, something's off with my music, isn't there?"

Soul's father regained his composure, and glared at his youngest son. "And you think this Shibusen place will be any better for you."

"Anything would be better for me than here."

Celeste had started crying at some point, watching her children rally against their father. "Please Soul, please don't leave home."

"Mom…" Soul winced. "Mom…don't cry…"

"You aren't leaving Soul. You belong here, with your family."

"But Dad-" Wes started arguing, and Soul's father's eyes cut him down immediately.

"That's final." The tallest snowy haired man spat, and left the kitchen. Wes shook his head and went to console his mother. Soul only stood up, and shoved his hands into his pocket and left the kitchen, leaving his family behind.

Next thing she knew, she was in a bathroom, with Soul, who at that moment looked so much like he did when she first met him, she wanted to hug him, to promise him that it would all work out, although, she wasn't exactly sure how it was supposed to work out, with all of the chaos even bringing Shibusen up seemed to cause her Scythe.

Soul was leaning against the bathtub, knees drawn up, and arms resting on them. One hand was free, and hanging there, blood dripping off of it. Maka looked at him and sighed, wondering how her idiot Weapon managed to cut himself on himself. But, according to Tsubaki, it actually wasn't that uncommon with new Weapons. Figuring out how to work with the Weapon inside you was why Shibusen was so vital to new Weapons.

There was a knock at the door, but Soul didn't answer, he only lunged for a rag, and pressed it against his arm, applying pressure. Wes walked in after a second and looked down at his brother. He only sighed before coming to sit next to him, and pulling his Soul's arm towards him, so he could get a better look at it.

"There are healthier outlets, little brother."

"What are you talking about?" Soul mumbled. "I'm a freakin' Scythe, Wes. I'm kinda prone to sharp objects."

Wes added more pressure to the cut on Soul's arm. "Your blades are still dull, little brother." His words were light, and airy, but they left a sense of finality in the room. Wes had called him out on his little stress reliever habit, and both Soul and Maka's faces were morphed into masks of shock.

"W-what?!" Maka gasped, but she received no response from Soul. In the memory with her, Soul's eyes dropped to the floor, before he closed them.

"I can't stay here anymore, Wes. It's going to kill me."

"I know little brother, I know." Wes sighed, and reached into his pocket, passing his brother a folded up piece of paper. "So we're getting you out. Okay?"

"What?"

"Right there, directions, and money, gifted by Granny, and a ticket to Nevada. Death City, actually. Pretty sure you'll be able to find Shibusen from there. You're a smart boy."

Soul stared down at the gift his brother had given him, the faith that he and his Granny had for him was unbelievable. "Wes…I couldn't…what about Mom?"

"Oh, she'll be pissed. But she'll be fine. Just call once you're enrolled, okay? Settled in, and you have a Master-"

"Meister"

"-And all that, and she'll just be happy to know you're okay." Wes finished, ignoring his brother.

"…And what about Dad?"

"You let me take care of Dad, Soul. Let me be your big brother one more time."

Soul sat in silence, unable to believe what his brother had done for him. He had it in his hands, his escape, his freedom…and it was finally in his grasp.

He hadn't been happier in years.

"Hey Soul," Wes asked offhandedly. "Do you think you'll quit piano?"

Soul faltered at that. Instead he scowled, and shrugged. "I don't know, probably."

Wes frowned at that. "You know, I like the way you play piano."

Soul froze, and looked up at his genius brother, and Soul only shook his head once more. "Thanks.

For everything.

Maka was thrown out of Soul's mind fast after that, and when she opened her eyes, back in the real world, her head was reeling. She fought the dizzy feeling it left her with, and she reached out to grab onto her partner.

Soul was still there, but his head was no longer pressed to hers, but buried in her shoulder. She didn't blame him in the slightest. Having someone dig around in your skull wasn't exactly a picnic on your mental stability, not to mention she had just put him through all of that. Again.

Sending out a relaxing wavelength, Maka's hand went from where she was still holding onto Soul's head, down to his hand, reaching up towards his wrist. Soul froze, and Maka stopped. "I just need to know." She whispered, and Soul sniffed, but allowed her to continue. Her hands traveled under his sleeve, and up his arms until she was nearly to his joint, before she felt the thin line of raised skin.

It made sense to her now, how every shirt he seemed to own was a long sleeve, and if he was wearing a short sleeve, there was always a jacket over it. Besides, even if someone did see, it wasn't like he couldn't pass it off as an early weapon fuck up. And at this point? He and Maka were both covered with so many different scars; no one would know the difference.

But she would, now. She would know what those scars meant to him, what Shibusen saved him from, and who he was before.

Forgetting that their minds were still connected, Soul flinched at that, and Maka brought her arms up to hug him. Soul wasn't much of a hugger, but he accepted now, wrapping his arms around her waist, and keeping his nose buried in her collarbone. She hadn't even realized she was crying until a tear rolled off her nose. She didn't have to say anything, Soul could feel everything she was trying to say through their connection, and he was surprised by how sharply he was able to pick up her emotions. Mostly her happiness that he had found his way to her, despite everything else.

He held onto her tighter, and she tried not to flinch when she felt water drip from her collarbone. She didn't want to bring attention to him crying, but she didn't want to ignore him either. Instead, she buried her face in his snowy hair, and let him do what he needed to, while she just sent him the stability he needed.

Never again Soul, don't do it ever again.

Won't do it again. Ever. Trust me.

With his answer in her head, she felt content and just held onto her Weapon as he tried to control the sudden onslaught of emotion that Maka had dug up on her little adventure into his head. After a while, Soul's emotions seemed to stable out, but he didn't move from where he was, and Maka certainly wasn't going to make him move. Instead, she fell back onto the couch, and Soul readjusted himself so that his head was resting on her stomach, and her hand was continually running through her hair. They both ignored the wet patch on Maka's shirt as she closed her eyes, and tested their new connection. It was vaster than the one before, and it already seemed stronger.

"Hey…Maka?" He asked, voice gravelly as it vibrated against her ribs.

"Yeah?"

"Please don't tell anyone I cried." He mumbled, the burn from his face heating her through her clothes. Maka only smiled and rolled her eyes.

"I won't."

"Maka…"

"Hey come on now, you can trust me!"