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A New Experiment	By : JuxtaposedWars Category: +S to Z > Soul Eater Views: 2718 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Atsushi Okubo's Soul Eater or its characters, and do not profit from their use. Nor do I know Fever Ray's song lyrics, or profit from their use.

Chapter List
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A New Experiment

Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Atsushi Okubo's Soul Eater and gain no profit from its use. This is strictly a fan fiction.

Story Pairings: SteinxOC, SoulxMaka, mild SpiritxBlair

Stein's smoke-green eyes open to see the dazzling array of colorful tomb lanterns swaying on brass chains above him in dim light. A warm breeze blew in over him and he leaned on his elbows to see anchored, red curtains flapping against the open outdoors on the other side. He pushed off the couch he was laying on, taking in his surroundings. The room was a dance floor of sorts, with lanterns and marquee lights hung from the ceiling. Walking outside he stood on a dock with a small boat tied firmly…the room was hugging the shore of a fjord, sun barely lighting the slopes; he knew now.

"A bit hasty for you to let me into your mind like this. Don't you think?" He chuckled, addressing Rowan, who sat to his left, feet in the water.

She stared at him, distantly. Her arm resting on her hand and her elbow propped on one of the dock's beams. She was dressed to the nines in an ornate necklace, arm cuff, hair pin, and a minty-green dress; bare-backed (revealing her bullet scars) and form-fitting from bust to mid-hip, then tapering off into pixie-style skirt that stopped at her knees, the seam running up the torso decorated with rhinestones. Noticing her prompted him took to notice his white tux, haphazardly sewn together, with a similarly stitched grey, button-down shirt, and loosened grey tie.

"Teachers always told me there's no harm in getting a jumpstart on your homework." She mumbled unenthused. "A bit unwise to be leaving your soul so open all of the time, don't you think?" She mocked.

"That's just the way I am. So they told you why I'm here." He smirked down at her, sitting on a beam of the dock.

"No. They didn't."

"And you know why I'm here still."

"Yes."

"Telepathy?"

"No."

"Humor me." He laughed lighting a cigarette.

She matched eyes with him, hers were violet. "I can't see how big a soul is, and I don't read minds, but I can see the trail a soul leaves and traces of interaction with other souls, like a dog when it's tracking something. Your trail came from somewhere in the southwest, I think, maybe a desert."

"Impressive." Stein's curiosity grew, "You seem very educated for someone who's been outside of society for so long."

"I like books. It's probably in your best interest not to get to know me. I know you only need me to find your friend then it's back to Alaska." Her eyes shot holes through him, using his calloused intentions as the bullets.

The wind went cooler as the silence gapped them. He didn't reply, because there was no need for apology.

"You shouldn't worry so much. It's not like he's dying or anything."

Stein looked puzzled at the statement. "You know he's not dead?"

"Not a clue, but it's a fair assumption."

Stein laughed hysterically. Rowan's expression was glued into its monotone gaze. After settling himself down, he felt the breeze turn cold, and watched a few snowflakes fall. He turned his tired gaze back to the woman accompanying him.

"It's getting dark. Why don't you light the lanterns?" He asked, curious of her mind's inner workings.

"The lights were for her. No one else. Now, wake up." She demanded.

~*~

Stein's eyes flew upon as he woke with the feeling that he was falling. They'd hit another pothole. He looked across from his seat in the armored van to see the Parker girl staring at the ceiling. Seemingly un-phased by their inner discussion. He took note that the bandage on her neck was bleeding through.

As he saw that they were the only ones in the back of the van, the professor knelt down beside his partner and tilted her head back to see under the red gauze. "You've opened your stitches. Looks like I'll have to sew you back up."

"Fine." was her response.

"My guess is that you've gone under the needle and knife several times without anesthesia. Do you prefer to be awake?" Stein prodded through his medical baggage, grabbing his suture thread and debating on whether to use a size 12 or size 14 needle.

"Yes. They only packed morphine. It makes me sick to my stomach." She admitted, swallowing hard.

He chuckled slightly, "It certainly does. I trust that you know not to move or talk while I'm working correct?"

"Yes."

"Good." With an almost hungry look in his eye as he threaded the needle. "Try to keep your breaths as small and even as possible." He hummed in her ear with a smirk and gently tilted her head to give him more access.

Just as he fixed the scissors around the wire thread, BOOM! Another pothole that jerked the sutures in his patient's neck, making her bleeding increase; he didn't even notice that the van was still on the move. Rowan didn't flinch, only groaning quietly; whereas Stein growled viciously and slammed his fist against the small door that separated them from their drivers.

"PULL OFF THE DAMN ROAD AND PARK IT! NOW!" he roared.

Immediately they could feel the van cruise and tilt off of the edge of the pavement onto the shoulder. Stein held fresh gauze against Rowan's partially open wound as the drivers open the small access door.

"Wow! She bleeding pretty bad…how can we help, sir?" The younger driver blinked nervously.

Stein snorted in amusement, "What're you going to do? Pass me the scalpel? Shut the door and go take a piss. Don't move this van until I give the order."

"Y-yes sir…" the target of the scientist's aggression quietly closed the door and Stein waited until the two left the vehicle.

"Peeved, are we?" Rowan looked at him, keeping her head tilted in the position he'd left it.

"Not anymore." He mumbled as he turned to smile at her. "Now, shall we continue?"

~*~

The room was dry and warm, but there were no lights, no windows, and the smell of old blood and mildew wafted through the air. All he could think about was his daughter and how he missed her 18th birthday—such an important rite of passage, his little girl was an adult and he wasn't there for her! He counted everyday they kept him locked up and the day before her birthday he morphed his arm into a blade and began hacking and slashing what felt like drywall, but he only succeeded in shattering his wrist. Now it was healing the wrong way and he had no idea how to fix it. Where the hell was that nutty partner of his when he needed him?

His eyes squinted suddenly as his cell door opened to reveal blinding light on the other side with only a slight figure blocking the annoyance.

"My dear Tem tells me that you're injuring yourself, Death Scythe." An aged woman's voice echoed into the room. "That's displeasing. I expected better behavior from Death's favorite toy."

Spirit said nothing, but glared.

Raising a robed hand in his direction the woman began to chant, "Scor, Scor, Scorpion. Sting, Claw, Scorpion, Scorpion." Red lightning sprang from the woman's palm, catching Spirit's injured hand.

The blue-eyed man screamed in agony, cursing the woman repeatedly. He could feel his bones move and snap under his flesh and a burning inside the bones that had cracked. The woman cackled loudly against his screaming. His broken bones felt like they were melting into a molten liquid, churning into something ghastly and deformed until it fell into a familiar shape. The lightning ceased and his wrist was healed, but the burning stayed unrelenting.

He coughed and croaked out as he clutched his hand, "You bitch!"

"Temper, dear. The burning will stop in a few days…maybe." She giggled, "Besides, I need you to pedigree standards when I wield you. Don't be a difficult boy."

The door slammed shut.

"NOOO! NO NO NO NO NOOO! BITCH! WHORE!" Spirit's rants fell on deaf ears as he was left alone to writhe around with a hand that felt like it was in a bed of white-hot coals.

A witch. That was all he needed. With earnest, he tried to ignore the torture by repeating a name that always kept him strong. "Maka…" he whispered to himself slowly. "Maka…m-Maka…Maka…"

~*~

"…is that him…" Rowan fought the tears as she whispered.

"Shhh…" Stein quieted her as he fiddled with the sutures gently. "Your neck is beautiful." He rambled. "The bullet barely missed you jugular, you lucky lady…the muscle structure is strong with no signs of deterioration or infection. The healing will be exquisite." He purred as hesitated on whether he should re-stitch her wound or open it further.

Rowan twitched. "I won't be any good to you if you dissect me now."

Her words held weight and he came out of his trance, instead letting his eyes and fingers indulge in poking the crescent-shaped needle through her tender skin. Watching her muscles tense with each stab and the blood flood the wrinkles of his latex gloves. He took casual note of how her breath pleasantly warmed the forearm he was hovering over her lips; it made the hairs on his arm stand up. He could see her soul…it was very still, but feral, like a predator waiting patiently for the right moment…something distressing though.

"You have a crack running through your soul, Rowan." His voiced sounded concerned.

"Mm." She tried to sound uninterested.

He posed his theory, "It is the same reason why you won't light the lanterns?" Stein wasn't expecting an answer as he cut the last suture and sterilized the area before covering it with a bandage.

He disposed of his gloves and tightened the screw in his head. "Meister's and their weapon's share something that many normal humans never get to experience. Souls that can match each other's wavelengths so well that separating the two can present an extremely traumatic experience; regardless of whether they get along or not, the two connect on a level too deep to assume superficiality."

Rowan sat up to face him at a tedious angle, "What exactly is a meister?"

"A meister is a human, me, who can connect with the soul of a weapon, also a human, you, and wield them in battles to collect kishin souls." He laid it out as he lit a cigarette. "Your friend that you died to protect was your meister and you were her weapon."

"My dad came to the hospital to identify me after they found me…" she didn't sob, but a tear rolled along the outline of her nose, "…he said I was an idiot…to stand there and let myself be shot. Then he walked out. Never came back. That bastard isn't my father…he'll never understand."

"What was her name?" He spoke tentatively, eyes deep, and cigarette loose on his lips.

"She said she named herself Kodiak. No last name. I called her Kodi." Rowan's voice, much like her eyes, drifted as if she wasn't really there.

Stein reached his hand out; fingers cupping behind Rowan's ear while his thumb brushed away her tear-stain. "What you did to protect Kodi, is exactly what you were supposed to do as her weapon. And as new meister, I have to ask you to do the same for me. I'll never be Kodi, but I need you now."

Rowan's stare lost its distance and she put a hand on Stein's wrist, nodding a pact between them.
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A New Experiment