Minako knew she had a gift. It was something she didn't mention too often, because frankly, this sort of thing would probably creep people out, and she was perfectly happy keeping her creep factor down. Deep down, she knew her girls had probably already figured it out, or remembered, or whatever, but she knew if they had a problem with it, they would probably say something.

Probably.

Most of them didn't linger too long in passive aggressive, except Rei on occasion, gods love her. But Rei she could deal with, and did on a regular basis, far too regularly for her to have not said something if she was particularly annoyed.

Kahlil on the other hand was a completely different story. She knew him enough to know that what he was feeling was unhealthy, she also knew him enough to know that it had to do with her. She could tell because he wouldn't look at her. That and the idiot man seemed to forget when they dreamed their worst dreams, they appeared to be shared. When he took off an hour ago, he wouldn't meet her eyes. In fact, he did everything in his power to avoid her, which didn't even give her a chance to fix things. That was if she even could, but she guessed she could.

This empathy thing was new, but not, maybe it was something she was newly aware of. No, that wasn't right, she knew she could feel the feelings of those around her, but lately it felt like she could exert some control over it. That was to say she didn't want to force people to feel things that they didn't, but if she could help them feel better…maybe just lighten the load. Or in Kahlil's case, take it. If only he would come back.

Sighing, Mina sat up in his dark bedroom and blew a strand of hair from her face. If only he would talk to her about his dreams. If only he would talk about anything. But he didn't. He kept his heart tighter than he probably held his poker cards, which if word from the group was accurate, he was one hell of a poker player. But it didn't matter, he thought he was some fortress of silence, but he wasn't, at least, he wasn't supposed to be to her.

With another, more aggravated sigh, Mina glanced around, trying to ignore the obnoxious orange glow from the clock. It didn't matter what time it was, she was going to deal with this. Period.

He was in for a real surprise if he'd forgotten what it was like to love her, because love was a two way street. Kahlil wasn't the only one capable of carrying burdens and maybe it was time to remind him. His lover was no wilting damsel and the sooner she brought that to his attention, the better.

When Kahlil could finally breathe again, he wasn't exactly sure where he was. His earbuds were in, but there was no music playing. The only sounds that had accompanied him were the steady sound of his feet slapping the pavement, a sharp staccato against the deep unsteady rhythm of his heart. Pulling out the silent headphones, he came to a complete stop, giving his body the reprieve it was screaming for.

If only he could have attributed it all to the run.

Instead it was the sound of her scream that had set his heart off into an uneven gallop. It was all so easy, so goddamned clear in retrospect. How could he have done that and dear gods how could he get all of this fucking blood off of his hands?

His hands forced their way into his hair and if he could have ripped each individual strand out as a counter pain to the agony in his chest he would have left all of it there on the sidewalk of wherever the hell he was. Unfortunately it wasn't that easy, it never was. Hair pulling only gave him a headache, and a headache was the worst company of heartache. He'd been smart enough to learn that a few hangovers ago.

It didn't help that he'd managed to wake Mina up with his desperate need to get out. He couldn't even meet her eyes. Those baby blues that he'd seen such pain in, pain that been mercilessly administered from his own vicious hand. It scared him, terrified him half to death of what he had been capable of, and left him sleepless to think that if he had been capable of it, then it meant that he could still be capable of it.

Kahlil's eyes burned at the thought that he could in all reality do this again. He could cause another round of burns and bruises to her perfect skin. He could still be a monster. A monster in disguise waiting to draw her blood to the surface.

NO!

Throwing his head back, he tried to swallow the scream of rage the tried to rip its way from his throat. Wasn't the universe listening? He'd be good. He'd be good now for every moment that he couldn't then. His past was a bitter pill that he'd learned far too young to swallow. He would not allow that bastard he was to leech into the man that he was. Kahlil was not Kunzite. He would be better. He would be BETTER.

Letting out a harsh breath, Kahlil crouched to the ground and gnashed his teeth together, his hands fisted so tightly they started to tingle. It wasn't until the breeze carried what smelled like honeysuckle to him did he realize that he was shaking.

Honeysuckle smelled like Mina.

Looking up he realized he didn't notice the cyclist that stopped behind him. Her blonde hair was freshly braided, but otherwise she looked like she'd just rolled out of bed. She looked so young standing there holding his bike which was at least two sizes too big for her, dressed in a pair of well-worn flannel pants and one of his sweatshirts which was at least two sizes too big. Her face was free of makeup and if he knew her like he thought he did there was both tears and determination in her eyes.

Kahlil took a deep breath before he straightened and turned completely to face her, shoving down everything that was threatening to rip him apart. This was his darkness; it had no place near the light that was his Minako.

"Someone should get you a bell if you're going to be sneaking around like that," Kahlil's legs screamed in protest as he walked toward her.

"Kind of defeats the purpose if I'm sneaking around, doesn't it?" Her lips quirked into an empty smile.

Who were they? This could not be who they were even hours before.

"How did you find me?" Kahlil found he was genuinely curious.

"Does it matter?" He perked a brow at her response which earned him an eye roll. "I microchipped you." Kahlil's eyes narrowed a fraction. "I don't get this. You're the one that takes off in the middle of the fucking night and I get the third degree?"

"Minako—" Mina slashed her hand through the air sharply.

"No," She interrupted. "No you don't. You don't get control of this so just fucking deal. I can always-"

Realizing her voice was raising, she sighed and grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the cover of a nearby closed shop front. "I can always find you, Kahlil. You could probably find me if you wanted to and knew how. Just like I can feel you and you can feel me. Just like I can see your dreams—"

Kahlil looked away, or at least he started to until Mina's hand forcefully pushed his chin back so he faced her.

"No. No," She hissed. "You do not get to demand all of me and then give me pieces of you when it's convenient to you."

"That is not—"

"That is exactly what you are doing. That's what it feels like you're doing to me." Mina blindly found his hand and pressed it firmly to her breast.

Kahlil could have sworn he felt an echo of pain ricochet through his heart, but that couldn't be possible…could it?

"Mina, I can't—"

"No, Kahlil, you choose not to."

Silence. The silence echoed so loud Kahlil though his eardrums would burst. He wasn't sure how much time passed before Mina heaved an angry sigh and dropped his hand as she turned away.

"Whatever…"

He was losing her. Kahlil knew it down to his bones. This was the moment, his moment. She had had her moment with him. The moment where he demanded everything and if she wasn't ready for that, then he would have walked. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn't playing by his own rules. If he lost her this time it would be his own damn fault…again. That word was such a haunting refrain.

"I can't—" Mina paused at his halted words, but she didn't look back. Now or never. "I can't hurt you again, Mina."

"You're hurting me now."

The words were probably more powerful than she knew. Or maybe she knew. Maybe, as most of the world did, he had underestimated her. Behind all that beauty Mina was as dangerous off the battlefield as he was on it, maybe even more so. With a shudder, the wall he fought so hard to keep between her and his issues came crashing down around him.

"You don't understand, " Kahlil shoved his hands roughly back into his already disheveled hair and let out a frustrated moan. "I can't. I feel…I feel like it's all right there, right fucking there. This darkness. This endless darkness and I can't, Minako, I can't. All it takes is one step and I'll be right back in it. Right back in all of it. I'm a fucking hairsbreadth away from being that man again."

Kahlil wasn't sure if the words made any sense, but now that he'd started, the words would not be stopped.

"There's so much blood Minako, so much goddamn blood on me and too much of it is yours, and I can't. I CAN'T. I can't let it have you. I've caused so much fucking pain and I can't. I never seem to see it coming, or when I do it's too late and I can't. I can't do this again."

It wasn't until he felt his body come to an abrupt stop at the touch of her hand on his face did he realize he'd been pacing. Slowly, ever so slowly, almost as if she was afraid he'd bolt, Minako moved in front of him, her eyes never leaving his, her hand never leaving his face.

"Breathe, Kahlil." For a second he wasn't sure that he could. It was as though he were frozen in…could have it been in fear?

"I'm terrified, Minako."

"I know."

And suddenly he could breathe. It was as though acknowledging his fear released something in him and the panic, the pain, the guilt he held was being absorbed, pulled from him and away. He wasn't sure where it was going, but it was going away.

"Just breathe and hear me out," Mina stepped closer and brought her other hand to his heart. "When you asked me to let you love me, I expected the same of you. I understand you are not perfect and that there are parts of you that you do not understand. None of us are perfect, so kindly remove me from whatever pedestal I'm on and just let me love you. I need your love far more than I need to be protected from you. I want all of it Kahlil: the good, bad, blood covered and otherwise. I want the you of now, and the you of before. I want it all and will settle for nothing less. I will carry every burden you've ever had if only you'd let me."

The silence that followed her impassioned words was not nearly so heavy. In fact, it wasn't heavy at all. With each deep breath, Kahlil found his thoughts clearing a little more until everything didn't seem quite so complicated.

"Kahlil?"

"Yes."

As if he would deny her anything, including the bruised pieces of his heart. Wordlessly, he walked to his bike, released the kickstand and began to walk in the direction of home. With a soft smile, Mina easily fell into step beside him.

"Your timing is lame, you know that?" The words were teasing, but the tone was affectionate.

"Mm, what time is it?"

"Like two."

"Because you picked the middle of the day to come to me."

"Touché, sir, touché." Mina sighed and reached out to wrap an arm around his bicep, amused at his obvious sarcasm. "I have to go home soon, I'm out of clothes."

"Seriously?" Kahlil looked down incredulously. "You've already got half of my closet."

"It's not what I want to wear today. And I can't find any clean underwear."

"You could do laundry."

"Or I could bring more over."

"You could just bring them all over."

A pull on his arm let him know that Mina had stopped walking and was looking up at him suspiciously.

"Did you just do what I think you did?"

"Is that a yes?"

While she didn't respond with words, Kahlil figured having the breath kissed from him was answer enough.