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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 Three

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

The Mojave stretched out open before them and a mirage gave the impression that there was only emptiness ahead, but Maka knew that just beyond the façade they would see Death City offering them refuge. Maka ran for Soul's motorcycle propped against a gangly tree, he was already on and revving the engine with his bloody hands. Tearing up the ground beneath him Soul whipped the bike around toward his meister as she ignored her limping to make a mad dash in his direction. He punched it.

"MAKA!" Razor-sharp teeth roared out her name with a hand outstretched to catch her.

She caught his hand and ran alongside his bike, bouncing off the footrest despite her broken toes. Just as she was trying to straddle the seat, a hammer appeared out of the dust of their wake and slammed the side of the bike, barely missing both the older teens' legs. It was the kishin-soul they had been chasing for months, but what the two had found when they'd caught up with the fugitive was something much bigger than what they figured. Quickly, Soul grabbed his Maka and braced for impact as the bike crashed. Maka scrambled to her feet and in seeing Soul reach for her, she latched onto his hand, transforming him.

"Soul? Are you alright?" She choked on the cloud of dust hiding them.

"Nnnn-no." he winced in a voice much smaller than Maka was used to.

She panicked. "Soul? Soul! What's wrong?!" she looked around coughing and trying to keep an eye out for the demon.

"My…balls…uhh!" he groaned quietly.

Maka donned a bright red at the sound of those words, and went rigid. "…What." She growled more than questioned.

"The bike hit…me…" he gasped "in my nuts!"

She growled some more, clenching the staff of her scythe/partner in a death grip. "Well, hurry up and get over it! I can still see the kishin-soul! The witch put some kind of spell on it to make it stronger!"

"If…it were that easy, I would! Lil' bitch!" he groaned loudly.

Maka could feel one of her knees start to buckle and uncharacteristically ignore her weapon's insults as she stared into the eyes of their attacker. They weren't expecting to find a new cave on the outskirts of the Mojave, much less did Maka expect her soul perception to reveal hundreds of souls in the caverns under her very feet—two stood out as her Papa and a very powerful witch. It was too much, they were ambushed, Soul was—Soul was in pain…nauseous even, but she could feel his hands ghosting over the keys of his mind's piano, looking for Maka's note.

"I'm…urgh. I'm ready Maka, listen to your song…" he hovered over middle C sharp.

The attacker licked its splintery hammer and howled in delightful insanity running towards the meister. Its hair was matted and scurvy left frightening hemorrhages under its blood-caked skin, chapped lips, and rotten mouth. Soul slammed a finger on the key and wasted no time playing her rapid melody. Metal and wood crashed together in blocks and infuriated offensives. Soul's tempo increased Maka's speed and she managed to land a butterfly kick, ramming a foot into the kishin-soul's face—knocking out a mix of blood, drool, and rotted teeth—and severing its leg at the ankle she swung soul up underneath.

As soon as she landed on her foot, her buckling knee finally gave way, leaving Maka in a half-dogpile on top of her opponent.

"Maka! You ok? Get up, quick!" Soul screamed out to her, frantically changing the composition to motivate his meister into a slight retreat.

"I'm alright." She strained, feeling the strength in Soul's music urge, coax, and finally lift her to her feet.

She knocked the huge hammer away from its wielder into the brush far behind her. She let the melody brace her legs, giving them strength to dash back about six meters just as the kishin-soul came to its senses. There was enough distance, enough time.

"Soul—"

He laid down a new chord, interrupting her "I know. You ready, beautiful?" he smirked.

Maka blushed a bit as she felt his music and his affection pulse through her, giving her a second wind. "Yeah, let's do it!" she sang out her war-cry.

Soul's fingers played a slightly softer melody, fervently building into a crescendo as Maka could feel the wave of his soul rush over her. And then they locked together. They both growled out ferociously as Soul's blade increased in size twice, emitting that signature crystal light from the scythe as Maka rushed forward with a surge of new power.

"GENIE HUNTER!!!" She screamed out, launching her attack on the half-dazed kishin-soul, and qickly obliterating it.

The corrupted soul hovered amidst the body disintegrating before their eyes. Soul's piece finished its reprise and he closed the baby grand gently before morphing back into a human. Maka fell to her knees exhausted from their fight to rescue her father that was going on four hours now. She watched as Soul quickly gulped down the kishin orb and stumbled next to her, loading her onto his back. She leaning against him and caught his cut lip in a kiss.

"WATCH OUT!" A familiar voice cried out, and before the youths knew it, Stein was in front of them, blocking two large sickles with some sort of bladed-staff.

The connected metal grinded together, make an awful scream as the friction made sparks.

"Professor!" Maka called out in disbelief.

Stein braced the weapon into the ground with his foot as he freed one hand propelled toward the attacker, "Soul Force." He muttered sending the opponent flying.

"You two get to the van other there! Hurry!" He pointed to the armored van where the driver Stein had belittled hours earlier morphed his arms and legs into blades, fighting off two other guards while the other driver, a meister, shoved the motorcycle into the back of the van.

Soul tightened his grip, pressing a not-so-conscious Maka into his back and took off. The Professor quickly knocked his opponent unconscious and ran after his two students, Rowan in hand. Jumping into the van, Maka and Soul could feel the wheels begin to churn as the meister driving the vehicle floored-it. The weapon driver jumped onto the back-bumper of the van, hooking a bladed-hand thorough the vehicle's reinforced steel.

The young weapon leaned off the bumper, watching Stein coming up fast with Rowan behind the van. "HURRY! GRAB ON!" The weapon called out to them.

Soul watched the actions from the open side door, heart racing as he saw knives being thrown at the great meister that just saved his girl's life. As he watched, noticing the out stretched hand from the back of the van, Soul could see Stein reaching out in vein. Suddenly, the weapon the scientist was gripping in his other hand, glowed and the top blade morphed feverishly into the half-torso of a woman, catching the hand of the weapon on the back bumper. Soul flinched as he saw the two being slung around the van to his direction; in a less than a second, he grabbed Maka and braced her against the inner walls of the van. In that moment, Stein flew into the van's open side door, crashing against the stretcher that Rowan formerly occupied; Rowan herself hanging on to the door frame and scrambling into the vehicle, slamming the side door shut.

Soul watched as Stein's new partner didn't skip a beat, dashing towards the back door of the van and swinging it open to haul in the second driver. She unceremoniously dumped him on the van floor and closed the back door, then rushed to Stein. Soul, a little awed, turned to see his meister finally regaining some consciousness. The red-eyed pianist felt the pulse in his head throb as everyone tried to slow their breathings, check wounds, all without words.

Stein met eyes with Soul. The screw in his head feeling very loosened, he cranked it back, focusing his thoughts. He felt Rowan pick the pieces of glass-lens out of his forehead, looking at her he didn't need to see her blood to know that she had reopened her wounds again, Maka seemed to be in a dehydration-induced daze with minor cuts in various places and a knee swollen to the size of a grapefruit, Soul had a sliced lip and what seemed like a good-sized gash on his right shoulder blade since blood was smeared on the wall behind him…he was cupping his groin too, finally the driver lying on floor looked the best for wear—only minor cuts along his arm. More or less, they would come out alright. Stein then turned his attention back to Rowan, who also caught on to Stein's assessment of Maka, making the young meister sip on a bottle of water.

"Rowan." He groaned, looking disappointed that his cigarettes were lost.

The wild-haired woman wiped some spilled water from Maka's mouth, "Yeah." She replied monotone.

"Did you get a lock on Spirit?"

The van went dead silent with the anticipation of Stein's words. All eyes were on the new arrival.

"Yes. Their moving him East, but I have his trail. No worries." She concluded, and a new wave of relief swept over the vehicle. He wasn't safe, but at least now they had a chance at saving him.

~*~

To Rowan, formalities were understandably excused; when the group had arrived at Death City it was already eight 'o clock at night. Stein had spent nearly two hours stitching up Soul, restitching her, and putting Maka's leg in a cast. Even after that the four of them had to report to Lord Death and by the time Stein had brought Rowan to the laboratory, it was well into the night. He showed her to her room, dumping a blanket and pillow onto the mattress; before she left Stein held onto her arm, inching close to her ear as if to ask her something...then he backed away, sauntering out of her room.

She slept with ease. The chilled-desert nights of Death City felt similar to home, oddly. As the hours passed she watched this Death Scythe pace off into the East, his dim light laying out a map in the blackness of her sleep. Her anger rose and at first she didn't know why…her belly went cold, wet.

She felt her skin lose its tightness and her muscle sting against the air. Her violet eyes shot open, awake and enraged with cigarette smoke in her nose, almost in slow-motion, she felt the back of her fisted-hand whip across the stubble of his face—the loud smack of skin against skin hanging in the air. The incision was barely a centimeter, and the scalpel lay on the floor. The only sound was her breathing and his own; Without a word, he grabbed her hair and crashed his lips into hers and he explored her mouth with passion, leaning over her, only stopping when he'd run out of breath.

There they sat…waiting…thinking…now what?
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A New Experiment