In
Sickness (2/2): Soul Eater (manga), Stein/Marie,
PG-13, prompt - "stitches"
Canon
note: takes place between the seizing of "Brew" and the
storming of Baba Yaga Castle.
"Stein?"
Stein's
foot paused in mid tap. His fingers rested in a crooked angle against
his collar. The silence that followed was off-putting. "Yes?"
At least he was back to full words and sentences, short as that was.
No more grunting, thank goodness.
"It's
time to get back in bed, okay? You need your rest." Marie
offered up a tired smile, as if she’d been more than happy to play
nurse to his sick self.
"Do
I?"
Marie
sighed. "Yes. Stein, please. You're not feeling well. If you get
back into bed, I can give you your medicine. Okay?" She knew
there was a bottle of extra strength bismuth subsalicylate in one of
Stein's cabinets, the bottle with the cartoon stomach on the label
because Stein did better with symbols than words at a moment's
notice. It should be enough to treat Stein's upset stomach.
Everything else—well, that was for another day. His madness
couldn't be cured by an antacid.
"You'll
still be here?"
The
weakness in Stein's voice left Marie lost for a moment. "Y-yes,
of course, Stein, I won't be going anywhere." Not
again, she thought. Not again.
With
that, Stein allowed himself to be carried into the bed and under the
thick blanket, the fabric crossed over and over with long elaborately
placed stitches, like on Stein's body. His eyes followed Marie out of
the room as she went to fetch the medicine. She came back with the
appropriate dose in a coffee cup to find Stein with the blankets
pulled up to his chin, eyes rolling around in their sockets. In the
moonlight, they looked as if they were glowing
"Stein!"
Her hands instantly tightened around the coffee cup, not wanting to
let drop the one thing Marie had to offer Stein in his moment of
need.
 |
| Source: Doctor Frank / Gaia Online |
Stein's
eyes rolled back into their proper place. "I was trying to look
at my own brain," he said, half-apologetic, words slightly
slurred by no sleep. "It didn't work," he added with a
small shrug.
Marie
crossed over to Stein's bedside and sat down on the duvet. She
watched carefully as Stein downed the cup's contents, following the
slug of medicine drop through his gullet with an audible gulp, and it
satisfied her. She took the cup from Stein's outreached hands and
placed it on the bedside table, far enough that it couldn't be
knocked over in his sleep.
"Feeling
any better?" she asked, knowing full well the medicine would
take longer than a second to go into effect.
"No,"
Stein said, voice flat. "But I will. Some day." He laughed
but it had none of the insanity or life that it did from the Brew
incident.
Marie's
hands covered Stein's without thinking. They felt cold. "Stein,
I know you don't feel like it's possible, but you have to stay
strong. Medusa can't hurt you anymore. We're going to help you."
"You
can't, can you?" Stein looked at Marie, his eyes suddenly sharp.
"That witch has put her claws in me completely. I'm mad. I'm
gone. I'm lost. I am. I am. I am?"
"Stein..."
"Marie."
For a second, Stein looked like the man Marie first met. He looked
normal. Then he slowly crept back into his current state of mind.
"What's happening to me?"
Marie's
hands began to glow. "I'm sorry." Stein blinked then
slumped forward, unconscious. She quickly withdrew her hands, no
longer glowing, and set him back into his bed with eyes closed. She
had reached out with her wavelength and quietly tapped him into a
state of slumber. The medicine would do its work while Stein slept,
although she knew it would not be the full restful sleep that the
doctor deserved.
She
stood and watched Stein's chest rise and fall with each breath. The
moonlight lit every remaining drop of sweat on his face, the strands
of silver hair fallen against his cheek. Even her healing wavelength
wasn't enough to cure Stein, but at least it could alleviate some of
the pain for the night. That would have to be enough.
Damn
you, Medusa. Give me back my Stein.
Marie
quietly closed the bedroom door behind her and returned to the
kitchen to brew another pot of coffee, with the special beans that
Joe Buttataki had mailed her. The paperwork would not take care of
itself.
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