Part 2

oOo

He wasn't sure what woke him the next morning. It could have been the sunshine that poured in through the windows and bathed the whole room in a bright, tropical warmth. Or it might have been the warm breeze that wafted in through the partially open french doors, along with the soothing sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the shore and the trill chords of the ring-tailed pigeons flying overhead.

If he had to guess, though, it was probably the feeling of his heart expanding with relieved elation at the sight of Usagi, still, fast asleep, and plastered intimately across his chest. Most of her braid had come undone, and there was hair splayed out everywhere, golden blonde strands spread out across his body, pillows and sheets.

He smiled softly, lifted his hand and reverently ran a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. It slid around his fingers like silk before billowing back onto the pillow. It felt like a perfect moment, and he basked in it for a moment more before allowing the reality of their situation to seep back into the forefront of his mind.

He frowned; this wasn't over. He was still here, despite everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. He knew that Usagi still loved him. The problem was that she didn't know it yet. His frown deepened as he gently ran his hand down the length of her back, his fingers grazing her side, where he felt the edged contours of her ribs protruding through her skin. The sooner they were out of here, the better. This depressed, barely-eating version of Usako made his heart clench with anguish in his chest.

He didn't want to leave the bed, he wanted to pull her back into his arms and fall into a dreamless sleep, but things were still not as they should be, and he still wasn't sure what Usagi's reaction would be if she woke up and found herself in his arms. With a mournful sigh, he carefully maneuvered his body out from beneath her and gently lifted her so he could inch his way out of the bed without waking her.

She moaned, turned over onto her side, her hair twisting around her body as she buried her head in the pillow. He grinned, it didn't matter what world they threw her in, Usagi would never be an early riser.

He padded quietly out of the bedroom into the kitchen where he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, and two aspirin from the bathroom where they'd already deposited their toiletries. She didn't stir as he carefully placed them on the small bamboo side table beside the bed.

He'd showered, collected the beach blanket and wine glasses from outside, and was in the middle of making breakfast by the time she emerged from the bedroom. She'd somewhat tamed her hair by pulling it back into a haphazard ponytail that was slightly lopsided. Her clothes, the jean shorts and purple t-shirt from the day before, was crumpled and she tugged at the seam of her shirt self consciously, a timid grimace on her face, and a look of worry shining from her eyes.

His hand froze, his fingers tightening around the spatula handle he'd been using to flip the crepes he was making. He was again caught off-guard by the vulnerability and the devastation that surrounded his Usako. She was afraid, though he was not sure of what. He guessed it was probably of his reaction.

He swallowed down the anger he felt for the asshole Mamoru of this world and instead offered her his brightest smile, hoping the love he felt for her was apparent in his eyes.

It had been effective, as the look, the one he hated, melted off her face, her stiffened shoulders relaxed and she returned his smile with a tentative one of her own. "Good morning, Mamoru," she murmured and slowly made her way into the kitchen.

He was a little disappointed by the more formal 'Mamoru,' but he was pleased by the curious look in her eyes as she sniffed at the wafting scent of the cooking food appreciatively.

He smiled tenderly, then turned back to the task at hand. "Good morning, Usako. Are you hungry?" he asked hopefully.

Her smile widened, and she nodded sheepishly, "A little," she murmured, then nibbled her lower lip nervously. "I'm really sorry about last night. I only had two glasses. I'm not sure why it hit me so fast," she apologized, her tone filled with unnecessary embarrassment and shame.

He bit the inside of his lip to suppress the self-hatred he felt at her statement. He wished he knew what the hell that was about, and he wanted to ask her what he'd done to make her feel this way. Instead, he smiled reassuringly. "I'm not really sure what you're referring to, Usako. You were adorable last night. Hopefully, you don't have a headache?" he questioned tenderly.

There was an array of emotions that crossed over her face, but he knew by the way her expression lit up, and the shine that began to glint brightly in her eyes, that he'd cracked another barrier around her. "No, actually. I feel amazing," she said, her tone filled with wonder. "Actually, Mamoru, I'm starving. Can I have two of whatever it is that you're cooking there?" she said, and his heart skipped a beat. It was working. He was fixing this.

He didn't say anything, simply cut off a piece still hot from the pan, speared it with a fork and handed it to her. He couldn't contain the full, stupidly excited grin on his face. "You can eat as much as you want, Usa," he replied, and she took the fork from him, hopped up onto the counter, and ate it as she watched him cook.

The remnants of the anger filled cords of tension that had still been lingering between them had wholly dissipated. Her laughter, though still a little tentative at first, came easier as did her conversation over breakfast. He made an enormous spread of crepes, fruit, jams and toast. They took it out onto the mosaic tiled patio, settled onto curved, black, iron-legged chairs around a quaint rounded bistro table with a brightly coloured stone-carved table top.

He was delighted to see her eat with the gusto he'd always been accustomed to seeing, but

the best part was that she was actually talking. It was so reminiscent of his unbroken Usako that his heart soared as he watched her, while quietly eating, and listened with a grin on his face. She spoke quickly, and excitedly about the things going on in her life. With each passing moment, the bubbly personality that was so uniquely his Usako became more prevalent.

She stopped suddenly, blushing, as she cleared her throat nervously. "I'm sorry, Mamoru. It just feels like we haven't talked in forever, you know?" she whispered with an embarrassed giggle, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear self-consciously. So beautiful. She was so damn beautiful.

He reached over the table, grasping her slender hand in his, "Usako, please stop apologizing for being yourself," he reassured, and she smiled gratefully.

They sat there for a moment more, basking in comfortable silence, before she spoke, "Mamoru, can we go to the sandy cove bar on the beach today, like we did last time?" She asked hopefully.

That had not been on the itinerary, so he had no idea what she was talking about, but he smiled and nodded anyway. "Of course, Usako. We can do whatever you want to do today," he reassured, and her responding grin and squeal of excitement was worth the risk of exposing his complete lack of knowledge in regards to their supposed previous experience here.

He cleaned up after breakfast, and she bounded into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

He took a moment, leaning over the counter, hands clutching at the marbled edge as he took a deep and cleansing breath. He was doing so well. Though there was still grief layered beneath the uncharacteristically graceful Usako, she was so much more like the beautiful Senshi princess of his world. He was close to breaking them free; he knew he was. He just had to make sure he didn't ruin this.

He was so lost in thought, trying to manage the intermingling emotions of despair, terror and excited anticipation roiling furiously within him, that he didn't see Usagi come through the door until he felt the soft slender touch of her hand on his back. He jumped, startled and whirled around to face her.

He inhaled sharply, his heart racing at the sight before him. She looked beautiful, dressed in another pair of jean-shorts, a sheer pink top, with a white bikini cut top visible underneath. She was glowing, her skin sun-kissed from her sunbathing yesterday, but her hair... He didn't know why it felt so crucially important, but it was up in the beautifully familiar ogangoed tresses that he hadn't realized he'd missed so much.

He was so focused on her hairstyle, he almost missed the look in her eyes. They were shining with a tender sympathy that had him inhaling deeply, startled with surprise.

Her hand cupped his cheek, and she smiled softly. "Mamoru," she whispered, and he was admittedly confused, though her touch sent tingles rolling down his spine. He lifted his hand to cover hers as he leaned blissfully into her palm. "I'm sorry. I forget that this has been difficult for you, too," she whispered, her tone soft, and so damn enticing.

She'd misunderstood his pain, and he almost choked on the emotion pouring over him from the look in her eyes. It was tender, forgiving, and the energy between them crackled so vibrantly he couldn't breathe. This was the moment - it had to be- he could feel it between them.

His fingers curled around her hand, and he turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss onto the inside of her wrist. She sucked in a breath of air, stepping closer, lips parted with shock as she peered up at him. "Usako," he whispered, his voice hoarse with his need for her. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and his eyes fixed on the rosy-hued, heart-shaped form of her lips. Her terms. This had to be on her terms. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, and it was a plea that came from a place of desperation.

She hesitated for only a moment, before slowly nodding, as if in a trance. It was all he needed, and he cradled her face in his hands, his fingers interlaced in the wispy strands of hair that curled along her temples. He bent his head towards hers, his eyes locked onto the hooded sapphire blue orbs, glossy and filled with her equally pressing need for him. He stopped for just a moment, his lips nearly touching hers, as her breath came out in short puffs of warmth that fanned along his cheeks.

"Mamo-chan," she pleaded, her voice ragged, and he crushed his lips onto hers. He lost himself in their kiss. It was passionate, and filled with such raw intensity that all of the emotions that coursed through the brokenhearted Usako of this world poured into their kiss as her lips molded perfectly to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he groaned as she pressed her body against the hard expanse of his chest.

He swept his tongue over her bottom lip, coaxing them open and she whimpered as she granted him access. His hands, almost of their own accord, moved from her flushed face down the slender curve of her neck, grazing her shoulders before settling onto her hips. Their lips remained interlocked as his hands continued, trailing down her soft supple curves, as they reached the back of her thighs. In one swift movement, he hoisted her up, perched her on the edge of the counter and moved in between her legs. She gasped into his mouth, as her parted knees pressed into his hips and her ankles interlocked behind him.

He groaned, and they broke apart breathlessly so that he could tenderly trail hot kisses along the length of her jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck. Their breathing was laboured, and his hands stopped his roaming ministrations on the curves of her body as he pressed his lips onto her bared shoulder, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

She had to be able to feel this. The emotion, the passion, the love. "Usako," he murmured against her skin. "I love you," he whispered.

Her body stiffened suddenly, and the energy that had burned so tangibly between them just seconds before, almost instantaneously cooled. He lifted his head, startled by the change, and his eyes narrowed in confusion as he met her gaze.

Her face crumpled into a look of devastation and uncertainty. Fuck. He pulled away and took a step back, her legs uncurling from around him.

"Mamoru," she murmured, and he couldn't handle this. How could he have misread her so badly? "I … I promised you that I'd try, and I am, and I know there's something there, but -" her eyes welled with tears again as she averted her gaze. Those damned tears of aching desperation that he'd brought back again by saying something too soon. She wasn't ready.

He sighed sadly, stepped back in front of her, cradled her face in his hands, and tilted her head up towards his. The tears had escaped, sliding down her cheeks, and he gently wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. "It's alright. Please don't cry, Usako," he whispered reassuringly. "It's okay. We can take this at your pace," he said softly and placed a tender kiss on her forehead before stepping back and offering her his hand. It was hard, and his heart was aching, but he forced a smile onto his lips.

The look in her eyes was unsure, but she took his hand, and he pulled her off the counter. "So, the Sandy cove bar?" he said lightly, and she nodded mutely. Effectively silenced and broken again. The bright Usako that had re-emerged for a short while had buried beneath her hardened shell of sorrow. Damn. He was so stupid. "Okay, let's go," he said, and they made their way back out into the sun which, for some reason, felt a little colder than it had this morning.

oOo

The sandy cove beach bar was located a short ten-minute walk along the beach from the villa. He'd let her take the lead, and though it was only ten minutes, the tension, renewed from their heated embrace in the kitchen, was painfully thick in between them. He silently cursed. Despite all of the progress they'd made, she'd still shut him out again. What had the Mamoru of this world done to her?

As they approached, the crowd of people, all clad in varying states of dress or more accurately, undress, thickened, as did the upbeat, low base music that was being played by a live band on a raised, makeshift wooden platform. The bar itself was not very big; a large, thatched roof awning of tiki grass that covered a bamboo built counter that was gaudily decorated with bright signs, and faded surfboards. A string of multi-coloured patio lanterns draped across the wooden posts.

There were weather faded chairs and tables, mismatched and spread out along the beach in a haphazard manner. Some of them lopsided, and stuck randomly in the sand. The atmosphere of the crowd here was definitely laid back, the soothing cords of conversation, laughter and music all intermingling in the warm tropical heat around them; drinks being poured, and passed around freely.

Usagi's face lit up brightly, and he smiled tenderly, his fingers flexing with his need to pull her hand into his. He ignored the urge, though, and furtively watched her as they approached. Her body had already begun to sway to the music in anticipation. His blonde-haired beauty had always been partial to dancing.

She stepped ahead of him, eyes bright with excitement, though she still tugged at her shirt self-consciously. She jumped when he lightly touched her elbow, the brightness fading a little as she turned towards him with a nervous smile.

He could do this again. Baby steps. He returned her smile with a tentative one of his own. "Do you want to dance?" he murmured, and she tilted her head, a look of surprise crossing her face.

She blinked, confused, before giggling softly and shaking her head. "Mamoru, you don't dance," she said, her voice tinged with disbelieving amusement.

He grimaced. That had apparently followed him in this world too. "Well, what about a drink then, Usako?" he questioned, his tone suitably contrite, and her demeanour softened slightly, though there was still that damn uncertainty layered beneath her forced smile.

She shifted, nibbled her lower lip, and glanced towards the bar indecisively. "Would that be okay?" She whispered, and a cord of pained fury twisted up inside of him. He hated to see her so insecure. She'd lost their child, and he'd had the nerve to give her a hard time about drinking? Asshole.

He controlled his momentary flash of anger at himself and smiled at her reassuringly instead. "Usako, what did I say? Clean slate," he stated firmly. "Why don't you find somewhere to sit, and I'll get us something to drink… do you want something sweet?" he had no idea what the Usako of this world enjoyed, apart from the white wine she'd had last night. He did not want to assume anything.

She shrugged, "Same thing as last time? Mojitos? I remember that they made killer mojitos here!" She exclaimed excitedly. He nodded, and just because the flushed, excited look on her face was so mesmerizing, and because he was still reeling from the painful distance that she'd reestablished between them, he leaned forward and placed a chaste, tender kiss on her forehead. Her skin warm beneath his lips.

He'd managed to surprise her, but he swivelled around and strode away before she could say anything. He pushed through a giggling group of bikini-clad woman that seemed to be congregating near the bar snapping drunken selfies and made his way to the bartender whose skin was honey-coloured and offered him a bright, white smile.

He waited only a couple of minutes for Usagi's Mojito and his whiskey sour. With a smile and a fair-sized tip, he twisted around, drinks in hand, intending to make his way back through the crowd to find Usagi. One of the selfie girls chose that moment to drunkenly step back, colliding directly into him.

He involuntarily let loose a shocked expletive as the drinks tipped in his hands, the liquid pouring down the platinum blonde haired girl's body. It rolled down the red-tinged sunburnt skin of her shoulder and soaked the front of what little clothing she was wearing.

She whirled around, her hazel eyes burning with indignant fury. "Oh my god! What the hell?" she snapped, and he opened his mouth, fully prepared to apologize, (even though it was technically her fault) when her eyes widened slightly. Her pupils dilated, and her angry stance softened instantly at the sight of him.

His eyes narrowed in confusion as a slow, seductive smile spread across red-stained lips. She took a step towards him and placed a hand on his chest. "Oh, you know what? Don't even worry about it!" she purred, then giggled with a toss of her head. He winced at the shrill sound, and quickly took a step away from her.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Sorry about that," he murmured apologetically, turning to go back to the bar for another round of drinks when her fingers curled around his wrist. He stopped and turned back towards her. What the hell was happening, right now?

"Oh my gosh, it's not even a problem. But you can always buy me a drink if you want to properly apologize," the woman stated, her tone dripping with a forced innocence that made him uncomfortable. Seriously uncomfortable. His face reddened, and the words tangled up on his tongue. Like an inexperienced idiot, he was completely flustered. How could he politely decline, and extract his wrist from her python-like grip that was currently making the hairs rise on the back of his neck? And not in a good way.

"Um," he choked out, and he glanced up with rising panic. Defeat all the monsters of his world? Simple. Wade through one hell-ridden nightmare after the next to save the love of his life and their friends? Piece of cake. Politely reject an overtly flirty woman that was not Usagi? Well, that was complete anxiety-ridden terror.

He coughed uncomfortably, attempting to extract his arm from her grasp, but she held on tightly with a determined glint in her eyes. "Oh, come on, handsome," she purred, running a finger along the length of his arm. "Don't pretend like you're not even interested," she scoffed dismissively.

Damn, she made him uncomfortable, sickeningly so, and he had to fight the urge to forcibly push her away from him. He looked up, and his eye caught Usagi's who stood behind the crowd of girls, watching their interaction. Thank God. Surely his wife would save him? He sent her a pleading look, and she responded with a mischievous smile that he did not understand. It spread across her lips sweetly as she skipped over to them.

Usagi stopped beside the blonde, whose hair was gaudy looking compared to the natural deep gold of Usagi's hair, and cleared her throat. The platinum-haired seductress glanced towards Usagi, curiosity glinting from the brown hues of her eyes.

Usagi offered her a bright smile. "Hi! I see you've met my friend here. Did he give you the pickup line yet?" She said brightly, and his frown deepened in confusion. Friend? What the hell?

The platinum turned fully towards Usagi and shook her head in confusion. "No, why? Does he have a pickup line?" she giggled, glancing back at him with warm eyes that inwardly made him cringe.

Usagi laughed, "Oh, totally. He adores blondes!" she exclaimed, then leaned over and whispered loudly, "He's a doctor, you know. A total catch, if you ask me," her tone was filled with conspiratory glee, and he sputtered, entirely at a loss for words. Then, she glanced over at him with a playful gleam in her eyes. Was she teasing him? He sighed with exasperation. What a brat.

The woman's eyes widened and glistened hungrily, almost predatory, and she turned back towards him, blinking with excitement. "Oh! You're a doctor! That must be such a tough job," she said, and he raised an eyebrow, glancing at Usagi whose eyes were twinkling with mirth, as she took a step back to see what he would do. She was barely suppressing her laughter.

He turned his full attention to the woman, opened his mouth, then shut it soundlessly at a complete loss for words. He was going to tell her that he was married, to the laughing blonde beside her no less, when Usagi spoke again.

"Oh, it is. Unfortunately, he's not a very good doctor," she said remorsefully. He frowned, puzzled and thoroughly bewildered by her words. What the hell was she up to?

The blonde tilted her head to the side, brow furrowed and lips puckered with confusion. "Oh? How come?" she questioned, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Usagi interrupted him...again.

"Oh, that's just because of all the lawsuits," she said matter of factly, and the blonde's frown deepened, along with his own. Where was she going with this?

"Lawsuits?" The blonde parroted stupidly, and Usagi shook her head sadly.

She stepped towards them again and offered the girl a pitying smile. "Yeah, I mean it's not a big deal, but when he's conducting surgery on married men, and they're sedated, he totally steals their wedding rings and puts them on. Just for fun," she said, and her tone was serious, convincing, and the look on her face so damn innocent that he burst into laughter.

The girl's eyes were narrowed first in confusion as she tried to wrap her head around what Usagi had said. Then they burned with indignant fury as she took in his laughter, and her eyes glanced at his hand that did, in fact, have a wedding ring on it. Usagi stepped beside him and grasped his hand possessively, as she offered the woman a challenging glare.

The blonde sputtered, her face reddening with humiliation before she swivelled around, tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked away.

He glanced over at Usagi, with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. "You could have just told her we were married," he said, but there was no admonishment in his tone, only a barely contained laughter as he had actually thoroughly enjoyed her silly tactics.

Usagi chuckled and shrugged. "Where is the fun in that?" she exclaimed. "Besides, it should have been obvious, even to her, how uneasy she was making you," she said, and he felt the barrier that had been rebuilt this morning melt away again. This time he vowed that he wouldn't mess it up. Her terms. It had to be on her terms. "So, drinks?" she said excitedly. He nodded, and pulled her back towards the bar.

He noted that she did not pull her hand out of his as he ordered another round from the bartender. He snuck a sideways glance at her as they waited, and she looked utterly relaxed, her face flushed, her body swaying to the music as her gaze took in everything around her with fervent exhilaration. This was the Usako he remembered, and when her eyes met his, and her grin widened, his heart soared.

oOo

The next hour passed in a blur, both of them feeling warm, light-headed and giddy from the effects of the alcohol and the sweltering Jamaican sun. He'd forgotten, for a moment, how social Usagi was; a brightly coloured butterfly flitting from one group to the next.

She laughed, twirled and joked with the intermingling crowds of people that had all come here from different parts of the world. He'd never possessed the ability to warmly socialize like his blonde-haired princess. So he smiled and followed not far behind as he allowed her to blossom and thrive doing what she was so damn good at. She brought people together. She always had and she always would.

He was more than content to step back, watch her while making sure her drink was refilled and posing for the occasional picture that she dragged him into. She was having such a good time, a flushed flurry of brightness, that he almost never wanted this moment to end.

They'd just gone for a swim and Usagi, whose buzz had worn off, invigorated by the coolness of the crystal clear water, contentedly pulled him down onto the sand. He sat beside her, and she promptly plopped her head into his lap with a blissful sigh. He smiled down at her, his fingers tentatively grazing her cheek as he tucked a damp tendril behind her ear.

Her eyes were closed, but a soft smile splayed onto her lips. He wanted to kiss her. More than anything he wanted to pull her up, wrap his arms around her body and press his lips onto hers. He gulped as the vision of her bikini-clad body straddling his lap as he passionately kissed her, caused his heart to skip a beat. He promptly, with difficulty, ignored the enticing urge and leaned back onto his elbows with a groan instead.

She sat up and leaned over him with a knowing smile on her lips. "Too much to drink, Mamo-chan?" she murmured. He couldn't tell her what the real reason for his involuntary groan was, so he grinned and shrugged nonchalantly instead. She giggled and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the deep baritones of a voice he would recognize anywhere.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, kitten," he glanced up, and Usagi twisted her body, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered up into Haruka's smirking face.

Usagi's face lit up with a warm smile. "Oh! Haruka!" she exclaimed with surprise. "It's so nice to see you again," she said with genuine pleasure.

Haruka responded with a mirthful grin. "I see that Jamaica agrees with you," the outer Senshi said enthusiastically before her intensely keen eyes fell onto him. Her smile dulled slightly, and she offered him a nod. "Mamoru, nice to see that you're both enjoying your vacation," she said cordially, and he responded with a curt nod and a sardonic smile of his own.

"Haruka, are you coming?" the soft, lilting tones of the Senshi of Neptune washed over him, as the slender woman gracefully moved towards them, stopping beside Haruka. Her glossy green hair was unbound and rippled around her like the elemental waves she could control. Her eyes were soft and bright as Haruka curled a slender arm around her waist. Usako blinked up at them in awe. He did have to admit that there was a powerful aura that was vibrating around the couple, even in this nightmare.

Haruku chuckled as she leaned over and tenderly placed a chaste kiss on Michiru's temple. "Sorry. I'm coming. I got distracted," she murmured then turned back towards them. "This is the little kitten I told you about, from the airport," Haruka said, and Michiru's eyes fell onto Usagi, a softly comforting look filling her eyes.

"Oh! Hello, how lovely to meet you," she said, her voice a perpetual baritone of softness. "My name is Tenou Michiru," she said sweetly, and Usagi stumbled slightly as she pulled herself to her feet.

He followed suit, frowning as he noticed the pink tinge of embarrassment that washed over her face. "It's very lovely to meet you, too. My name is Chiba Usagi, and this is my husband, Chiba Mamoru," she murmured, and he realized with a start, that Usagi was feeling insecure.

He didn't know if it was because of the clear intimacy that emanated between the couple or the naturally graceful manner with which Michiru held herself, but either way, it tugged at his heart. He instinctively stepped beside her, gently clasping Usagi's hand in his own to dispel her unnecessary feelings of inadequacy. Usagi squeezed his hand and offered him a grateful smile in return.

Michiru's genuine smile deepened, and she tilted her head, "Hey, we're just about to play a game of beach volleyball with some people we just met over there," Michiru exclaimed, her eyes brightening with an idea. "It just so happens that our team is short two players, why don't you guys join us?" Michiru asked, every syllable she uttered friendly and filled with a welcoming warmth that was inviting.

A perplexed look crossed Usagi's face, and she grimaced. "Um, well, I'm not very athletic," Usagi's tone was laced with nervous uncertainty. "I'd hate for you to lose because of me," she said sheepishly.

Michiru laughed softly, waving a hand, dismissing Usagi's concerns. "Oh, don't even worry about that, Usagi!" She said eagerly. "This is just for fun!" She exclaimed, promptly pulling away from Haruka, grasping Usagi's hand and tugging her down the beach towards the net that had been set up for the game.

He grinned, as he watched the pair hook arms. Usagi's laughter at something Michiru had whispered drifted behind them. His smile faded as he glanced at Haruka, and they both began to follow.

Haruka gave him a hard smile, her eyes deadly serious. "Michiru is very tender-hearted, she can heal all types of creatures. She's especially good at taking care of broken-hearted, stray kittens," she said softly, and the warning was not lost on Mamoru. He'd understood the double meaning in Haruka's words, and his suspicions from earlier at the airport were confirmed.

He glanced back at Usagi sadly. Her sorrow was so palpable, it didn't surprise him that Haruka had assumed the worst. In fact, it pleased him to know that his compassionate princess could elicit so much loyalty in her Senshi, even in a contrived nightmare that had been crafted so that Haruka should have no idea who Usagi was.

He gave the blonde-haired girl a gentle, appreciative smile. "I have no doubt about that. Compassion is an admirable quality, especially towards the broken-hearted," he said cryptically.

Haruka considered him for a moment with a contemplative frown. She seemed to come to some kind of conclusion as she nodded curtly, and her stance softened. "Hope you're good at volleyball, Chiba. Despite what Michiru says, I really don't like to lose," the blonde said amicably, before jogging ahead of him and grasping Michiru's waist, lifting the Senshi off the ground playfully.

Michiru squealed in surprise, and Usagi giggled with amusement. He grinned, then sped up until he caught up to Usagi. She automatically took his hand and peered up at him nervously.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered. "I'm terrible at sports," she said with a grimace, and he chuckled warmly, released her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. She didn't protest, so he tucked her closer to his side as they walked.

"Usako," he murmured tenderly. "Don't worry. I'll always have your back," he said, hoping to convey the true meaning behind the words. She'd understood; her brow furrowed into a small frown, and she stared ahead, lost in thought, as they followed Michiru and Haruka.

oOo

She truly was terrible at sports. She'd fallen more than once, uncoordinated and unsteady. He winced as she slid painfully across the sand, missing the ball once again. At first, he could see the tears of frustration welling in her eyes. But when Haruka had said that Michiru could heal the broken-hearted, she hadn't been kidding.

Michiru had laughed lightly, dismissing every fall and every miss with a warm smile that instantly put his beautiful, sensitive wife at ease. Soon, Usagi was laughing with the others, and it wasn't long before both teams were smiling gently at the adorably clumsy girl that everyone instinctively wanted to protect.

They were having fun, that was until the other team was joined by a new player. Unfortunately, it was the platinum-blonde haired girl from earlier, and she was not in a forgiving mood. She also happened to be very good at beach volleyball. It was becoming painfully obvious that the platinum blonde, whose name was Kaori, had one purpose; to thoroughly humiliate Usagi. It didn't matter how often he attempted to intercede on Usagi's behalf, Kaori directed every powerful spike towards her.

She'd just delivered a particularly powerful blow, that he hadn't been able to catch in time, and that had knocked Usagi to the ground. Tears of horrified defeat welled in the sapphire blue pools of her eyes as he held his hand out to help her up.

Kaori sneered pettily. "Well that's what you get for letting a weakling play," she sniffed disdainfully. "I mean, there's nothing to her! Look at her! She's rail thin! Get the girl a sandwich or something," Kaori roared, definitely loud enough so that Usagi heard it.

His blood began to boil with fury as he wrapped his arm around Usagi, who trembled with devastation in his arms. He gritted his teeth and wondered if anyone would stop him from throttling her. Usagi, whose shoulders were slumped with defeat, visibly swallowed back her tears. "Maybe I should sit the rest of this one out," she murmured apologetically.

He was infuriated as he peered down at his broken-hearted wife who was, once again, drowning in her sorrow. He opened his mouth to say something, to help her get through this but snapped it shut as he realized he was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to do about this. Would it be better if she stopped playing?

He was carefully considering what to say to her when Haruka placed a firm hand on his arm.

He glanced over at the Senshi, whose gaze was burning just as hotly as his, but there was wisdom glinting from her eyes that made him frown. "You know, Usagi, you could sit this one out, it might be easier," he inhaled sharply at her words, and Usagi's face fell with understanding disappointment. "But we'll probably win if you and Mamoru work together," she said, her eyes piercing into him.

His eyes widened with the epiphany. Damn, Haruka was right. So what if Usagi wasn't athletically inclined? She'd been the moon Senshi in his world. She was a powerful warrior; defender of justice and love, and every time they'd worked together, they'd defeated whatever monster had crossed their path.

He nodded curtly at Haruka, who grinned and stepped back into place. He gently squeezed Usagi's side. "Usako," he whispered, and she glanced up at him curiously. Her lips pressed into a firm, miserable line, and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't want you to stop playing," he said with conviction. She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. "You can do this. Listen, Kaori is purposefully spiking the ball on your right because you keep missing it there. Just concentrate on your right, Usa, and I'll catch everything else," he said firmly.

She shook her head in frustration, "Mamo-chan, I can't do it. She's right. I'm too weak to get it over the net," she exclaimed miserably.

He leant down, his lips nearly pressed to her ear. "Usako, you're the strongest woman that I know. You can do this, and if you can't, I'll be here to help you," he said, and his voice broke slightly with emotion because this was about so much more than a volleyball game.

A moment passed, as Usagi considered his words, and she blinked back her tears. Her eyes filled with awe, wonder and appreciation. Then they hardened into a look of determination that filled him with pride.

"Oh my God, are we playing, or what?" Kaori snarled, and his gaze fell onto the blonde. The menacing glare on his face effectively silenced her.

Usagi squeezed his hand and moved out of his arms. "Yeah, let's play," she snapped, giving him a resolute nod.

The other team served, and the game began anew. It wasn't easy at first, and she still stumbled, her footing unsteady, but she never gave up. He made sure to support her as much as possible from all sides and soon they hit their groove. It was quiet between all of them, the only sounds was that of exertion as they kept volleying the ball back and forth. The energy was electric, the tension palpable as the others stepped back and let Usagi take the lead. It was as if they could sense how important this was for both of them.

Kaori was merciless, as was the rest of her team that could sense the challenge sizzling around them. Usagi started figuring out her flow, and she was able to set the ball up perfectly for him so that he could spike it to the other team. They'd gained traction and caught up with them, promptly evening out their scores.

It was the game point this time, and Kaori's snarling expression twisted up a somewhat pretty face into something ugly, and unattractive. "You're going to lose," she hissed through the net as they waited for Michiru to set up her serve. "I can't imagine what your husband sees in you; weak, and pathetic." He clenched his fists with fury at her venomously whispered words, and he took a step forward, intent on setting the bitch straight when Usagi spoke.

"You'll see how weak I am when you're staring up at me from your back after I spike this ball into your face," she said with conviction, her spine stiffened and her legs locked with determination. It was a tall order, but he was going to make it happen.

Michiru served the ball, and he could feel the air shifting around them. It was one of those moments that the anticipation and energy crackled so plainly, that you could just feel the oncoming victory. He saw his opportunity when the ball soared towards him, perfectly volleyed for him to set it up for Usagi. His heart raced furiously, the blood pounding in his ears as he expertly hit the ball towards her.

"Usako, go now!" he shouted, his tone firm and demanding.

Usagi nodded, leaned down and then leapt into the air. He'd seen that look on her face several times during their battles together. With every last ounce of strength she possessed, she hit the ball, her wrist smashing into the white synthetic leather so fiercely that it twisted, turned and whistled as it sliced through the air and deftly smashed into Kaori's face, sending her sprawling onto her back.

Their team cheered, all of them whooping and shouting with excitement, but his eyes were only on Usagi. She whirled towards him, her gaze filled with wonder. With an excited cry of elation, she flew into his arms, and he laughed as he hoisted her small form against him. She hopped up, and his hands grasped the back of her thighs as they wrapped around his waist, her arms curling around his neck.

She peered down at him, her face flushed with excitement her eyes filled with adrenaline and joy. "Mamo-chan! I did it!" she exclaimed, the emotion interlaced so painfully in her words that his throat constricted tightly.

"Yes, Usako," he whispered hoarsely. "I knew you could."

She blinked, her breathing hitched in her throat as the adrenaline melted away and her eyes filled with a different kind of need that perfectly mirrored his own.

"Hey, lovebirds," Haruka teased. Usagi blinked, promptly broke eye contact with him, and turned her head towards the blonde. The intensity of the moment dissipated, and she blushed prettily, as he released her and her body tantalizingly slid down the length of him before her feet hit the sand. She went to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his side.

Haruka chuckled. "There's a lobster shack just down the beach. It's cute, and the food is good. Do you want to join us for dinner?" she asked, her tone bright and inviting.

Usagi peered up at him questioningly, and he shrugged. "It's up to you, Usa," he said tenderly, and she graced him with a dazzling smile.

She turned back to Haruka with a vigorous nod. "Yes," she exclaimed. "I would like that very much," she said eagerly.

Haruka laughed and gestured them forward, "Alright then, let's go!" she stated, and he smiled down at his little Usako, interlacing his fingers in hers as they followed. They were so lost in each other, that they didn't even glance back at Kaori who was moaning miserably, clutching her face, sprawled on her back behind them.

oOo

He'd never been to a lobster shack before, and it was precisely that. An open-faced wooden hut that opened up onto a makeshift wooden dais. It was brightly coloured, exotic designs painstakingly painted on every wooden plank. It was surrounded by palm trees that had emerged from the sand, curling haphazardly around the structure, fairy lights strung across them.

The low base of foreign music thrummed through the atmosphere, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the other patrons and the sizzling sound of something roasting on a wooden stove.

As a doctor, he would have been inclined to move onto more sanitary options. But as Usagi's husband, he was delighted to see the way her face lit up with excitement over the prospect of eating there with her new friends and, unbeknownst to her, loyal Senshi.

Haruka pulled Michiru towards the server behind the counter, who, with a heavily accented voice and a brilliant smile, gladly took their order.

He did have to admit that the food looked delicious, and when they settled onto yellowed, wooden benches, around a round wooden table, he was delighted when Usagi instantly dug into her food. Moaning with pleasure, eyes closed as she savoured her first bite. He silently decided not to eat a single morsel so that he could give her his meal as well.

Haruka also regarded Usagi with an amused grin, "I told you, kitten. Doesn't look like much, but it's the very best lobster in Jamaica," she stated with conviction, then shared a soft, intimate smile with Michiru.

Usagi nodded, murmuring her ascent around a mouthful of food. He chuckled, and she swallowed, smiling guiltily with a blush spreading prettily on her cheeks.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was!" she exclaimed. "It feels like I haven't eaten in ages!" she said with a giggle. He knew that it was a joke, that she was saying it lightly, but it was so close to the truth that his expression involuntarily sobered.

She'd noticed, and her smile faded as she averted her gaze, her eyes pointedly focused on her plate. She looked forlorn and small again, so as casually as he could manage, he scooted closer to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning his gaze back onto the couple that watched them with curious expressions on their faces.

He changed the subject quickly, and the conversation turned to lighter topics. The tension slowly melted away, especially as they replayed Usagi's winning moment during the volleyball game. She visibly perked up, her eyes bright, face flushed with pride, as she listened to Haruka's detailed account of Kaori being crushed, quite comically, under the weight of the ball.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, a canvas of brightly coloured oranges and reds becoming a breathtaking backdrop to the perfect scenery. The lights flickered on, the music turned up louder, as the crowd thickened around them.

Michiru's eyes were just as bright as Usa's as she scanned their surroundings, her hand firmly intertwined with Haruka's on the table. "It's so beautiful here, I almost don't want to go home," Michiru sighed softly, but then peered up at Haruka, whose eyes were filled with tenderness. "I miss Hotaru, though," she said gently.

He frowned at the mention of the Senshi of Saturn, and Michiru turned smiling eyes onto Usagi. "Hotaru is our daughter. She just turned one three weeks ago. Would you like to see a picture?" Michiru asked eagerly, as she sat up slightly, and pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

His heart began to race as Usagi stiffened beside him. He frowned as he studied her face, and though she'd tensed, there was a genuine smile on her lips. "Of course," she whispered lightly, though he couldn't help but notice that it was forced. He did not know if Usagi had interacted with any children after what had happened to her, and he clenched his jaw tightly, preparing himself for anything.

Michiru swiped through several photos on her phone and stopped on one. It lit up brightly in the darkness, and it was a picture of a cherub-cheeked, smiling, black-haired girl sitting in Haruka's lap. Usagi took the phone, smiling, though he noted that it did not quite reach her eyes.

She lifted her eyes to Michiru's expectant gaze. "She's beautiful, Michiru," Usagi murmured softly, her voice sincere but tinged with sadness. His fingers clenched into fists beneath the table and his breathing quickened as his throat constricted painfully. She should never have had to bear this pain on her own. He, or the Mamoru of this world, should have been there to help her.

He should have known that it was coming. This was a fucking nightmare, after all, and every single thing in this damn place had clearly been crafted to lull Usagi into a sense of complacency just so that it would hurt that much more when they tortured her. Still, he could not stop the unintentionally painful words that spilled from Michiru's lips.

Michiru leaned forward, her expression gentle, "Do you have children? You have that new, happy mom, vibe about you, Usagi," she said innocently. He knew that she'd meant it as a compliment. The sweet, tender-hearted Michiru of this world would never have intentionally hurt Usagi. It didn't matter though, and the look of devastation that fell with anguished intensity onto her face ripped at his heart.

Her eyes widened, full saucers of pain and terror, as she opened her mouth to respond, but not a sound came out.

It was like time was moving in slow motion, and damn, she was going to fall apart right here at the table. It was apparent that she was at a loss for words. She was so used to facing this by herself. He couldn't let her do this alone anymore, but he didn't know what the right thing to say was. It was at that moment that the text messages Minako had printed for him flashed through his head, and one in particular burned into the forefront of his mind.

"He won't even let me talk about her. If I do, he snaps at me like I'm some kind of crazed psychopath. He wants me to pretend like she never existed. I can't be like him and drown myself in work. Why do I have to forget about her? Doesn't he know that I want to talk about her? I still feel like a mom, Minako. Except I don't have a baby anymore."

Usagi had always dealt with her grief differently than he had. She was such a bright, beautifully compassionate soul. It only made sense that she would want to remember the beautiful baby that she'd held, but had never truly met. That she would want to speak about the unconditional love that she'd felt for her daughter, and the unbearable pain she'd experienced with her devastating loss. She needed that, and he hadn't fucking allowed it.

He knew that this life wasn't real. That this was a nightmare. But damn, it fucking hurt. And his eyes welled with tears that he quickly blinked back. It was time that he did the right thing by the beautifully broken, and haunted woman that was his wife.

What felt like hours, had only been mere seconds since Michiru's question, and he cleared his throat and forced a smile on his face. "We had a daughter, as well," he said gently. Usagi audibly gasped beside him, and Michiru's face fell in remorse as she noted the tense that he'd used. "She was beautiful, small, and perfect," he whispered, then turned his gaze to Usagi who was staring at him in complete and utter shock. "Just like her mother," he said it with conviction and sincerity. Usagi trembled, and he reached over and took her hand in his.

She didn't pull away from him, which he took as a good sign, and he turned back to Michiru and Haruka who were both staring at them with varying expressions of heartfelt sympathy. "That's probably why you get that vibe from her, Michiru. Usako is still a new mom. Our daughter just isn't with us anymore," his voice shook slightly with the intensity of the emotion coursing through him and threading thickly through the air between them.

Michiru's delicate hand covered her mouth, and she shook her head with contrition. "Oh, Mamoru, Usagi," she murmured. "I'm so sorry," she whispered brokenly.

He opened his mouth to respond, to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but Usagi spoke first. "I'm not," she whispered hoarsely. "Sorry that she was born, that is," she said, and he carefully studied her expression. The tears that had glistened in her eyes moments before were rolling down her cheeks now, but there was a watery smile gracing her lips. "She was perfect. We had a hard time deciding on a name, but Mamo-chan-" she took a deep cleansing breath, and he gave her an encouraging smile. She squeezed his hand tightly. "Mamo-chan said during our first ultrasound that he was hoping that she would be like a little version of me. It was a bit of a joke, but we called her Chibi-Usa, and the name just stuck," she said softly, her tone quiet and gentle. He shuddered at her words, blinking, bleary-eyed. Oh God… Chibi-Usa. It was the first time he connected the pink-haired girl that was his actual daughter, with the one that they'd lost here, and it was like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Michiru and Haruka remained silent as Usagi continued to speak. Their eyes were filled with a gentle understanding, and a sweet tenderness that he would never have been able to manage under the circumstances. He felt like he was drowning in despair, suddenly. And he inwardly cursed. What the hell was wrong with him?

The conversation had progressed onto a different topic, and he hadn't even noticed. It was only when Usagi pressed herself against his side on the bench, a slight arm curling around his waist that he glanced down at her.

She peered up at him, and there was a raw vulnerability in her gaze that he hadn't seen before, laced gently with a look of relief and understanding. She smiled tenderly, and he exhaled deeply, the bright blues of her eyes successfully grounding him.

She turned back towards the couple with a genuinely bright smile, "This has been lovely, and I am so glad to have met you, but I think it's time that we head back now," she said softly, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Something was different. "We do have a long flight tomorrow," she said apologetically while she released him and stood.

Michiru and Haruka stood as well, their hands clasped, looks of genuine disappointment on their faces. "It was so wonderful to meet you, Usagi. It was truly a delight," Michiru said warmly, as she pulled Usagi into her arms for a quick embrace. "You have my number now, darling. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call," she whispered, placed a soft kiss on Usagi's cheek and stepped back into Haruka's embrace. "It was so wonderful to meet you as well, Mamoru. I do hope that we meet again," Michiru murmured, her eyes soft as she peered down at him.

"Take care, Kitten," Haruka quipped, then turned to him with a sardonic smirk on her lips. "You take care of her now, Chiba," she said, and all he could do was nod mutely. The words were there, but they tangled up on his tongue, and he couldn't manage to say a single thing. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly overwhelmed?

The couple offered them one last wave, swivelled around without looking back, and disappeared into the darkness along the beach. He was still staring after their retreating figures when he felt Usagi's lips brush against his temple and her hand firmly grasp his.

He turned towards her, and there was a dazzling smile on her lips. "Mamo-chan, it's okay," she whispered and tenderly swept a tuft of hair off of his forehead. "Let's go home now," she said. He knew that she meant the villa, but the word 'home' snapped him out of his anguished daze, and he promptly swung his legs over the bench and stood beside her.

She peered up at him from beneath long, silky lashes that fanned the tops of reddened cheeks as she blinked. She was flushed, elated and, damn, she was beautiful. Without thinking he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, her skin so soft against his palm. He inhaled sharply, a heat curling with anticipation around him as she pressed her cheek longingly into his hand.

His heart began to race as she lifted a delicate hand to cover his, her eyelids fluttering shut as she turned her face so that her lips brushed tantalizingly on the inside of his palm.

He swallowed as a different kind of need pooled in the pit of his stomach. "Usako," he murmured, and the inflection held a question that she answered with a smile, as she clasped his hand and tugged him onto the beach.

It was dark, but the beach was lit up by the luminescent glow of the moon and the twinkling stars above them. They didn't speak as they walked, both lost in different thoughts that burned along the same lines. He took a moment to study her profile in the moonlight. Her golden hair glowed almost silver, enshrouded by an aura much brighter than the sad, broken girl she'd been when they'd first arrived here. There was a confidence in her gait that had been absent mere hours ago, and a soft look etched into the contours of her face and every lovely curve of her body.

When they made it back to the villa, the structure was bathed in complete darkness as they hadn't thought to turn on any of the exterior lights before leaving. It didn't matter though, and Usagi tugged him up the cobblestone pathway that led to the French patio doors that opened up to their bedroom. Her hand curled around the handle, and she pushed them open. A rush of cold air-conditioned air washed over them, cooling their heated skin as they both stepped into the house.

Usagi moved into the bedroom, and he quietly shut the door behind them. The sound of the waves crashing furiously against the shore was muted and muffled now. The silence was deafening as she whirled around to face him.

He leaned back against the door, trying to control the fast, heavy beat of his heart by slowing down his breathing. He wasn't sure what was going to happen now, but he knew that whatever happened had to be on her terms. He waited and silently watched her standing in the middle of the room. An array of facial expressions swept over the delicate features of her face before she visibly took a deep breath and looked up at him.

His body was burning with a heat that made his mouth go dry, and it took every ounce of willpower that he possessed not to close the gap between them and crush the soft curves of her body against the hardened contours of his.

His eyes met her heated gaze, and he swallowed around the dry lump that was lodged in his throat. "Usako," he said, his voice ragged and pleading.

She tentatively took a step towards him, her eyes burning with a searing hunger that mirrored his own before she stopped. She hesitated for only a moment before propelling herself onto the tips of her toes, curling her arms around his neck, and crushing her lips onto his. There was desperation in her kiss that scorched his skin, filled him with a heat that coiled into his muscles, hardened his body and he lost himself in a fevered fog of lust that he'd managed to keep at bay thus far.

With a guttural groan of need, he deepened their kiss, nipped at her lower lip and coaxed them open with his tongue. She whimpered into his mouth as his hands tantalizingly swept down the length of her body, warmly grazing her ribs, before settling onto her hips.

Her lips moved against his, their tongues tangled with a frenzied fervour that was tinged with a desperation and a depth of emotion that overwhelmed him. She tightened her arms around him, her fingers lacing into the hair at the nape of his neck before she pulled away, breathlessly breaking their kiss.

She didn't say a word as she stared into his eyes, their laboured breathing weaving together between them. He wondered for a moment if he'd crossed a line, if maybe she was going to ask him to stop, before she leaned over and tantalizingly kissed his jaw. Her movements were controlled and enticingly slow as she nipped and trailed tender kisses along his jawline, seductively arching her body into his as she ran her tongue over the shell of his ear.

He groaned, desire coiling in the pit of his stomach and vibrating over his skin as his need to have her intensified and grew with every nip and kiss she placed on his burning skin. "Mamo-chan," her voice was raspy, and velvety smooth as she whispered it into his ear.

It sent him over the edge, and he growled as he pressed his palms into the back of her thighs, and in one swift movement, hoisted her up. She barely had time to wrap her legs around his waist as he turned her body and pressed her into the glass panes of the French doors. She gasped as his lips met hers again, as he kept one hand on her thigh, as the other one deftly crept beneath the bottom seam of her shirt. His fingers splayed over her tight abdomen before sweeping up and cupping her breast. She moaned as he expertly pulled back the malleable fabric of her white bikini top, and it sprang free, fitting perfectly into the palm of his hand. She whimpered into his mouth as he kneaded, then nimbly rolled a pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He pushed her body more tightly against him, sweeping his other hand beneath her shirt, giving her second breast equal attention.

She ripped her mouth away from his, lost in her own wanton haze of need and threw her head back where it hit the glass pane. The moon was directly behind them, the light enshrouded and bathed her in a soft glow that was fitting. Though she might not remember it in this world, she was his moon Goddess, and he lowered his head to her neck and kissed down its slender curve, the movements worshipping her accordingly.

The sounds of desire spilling from her lips were driving him over the edge. Her body arched desperately into his, her knees pressing into his hips as she ground against him. "Please, Mamo-chan," she moaned, her tone hoarse and pleading.

He ceased his gentle ministrations on her chest, swiftly grasped her shuddering body in his arms, and carried her to the bed. He was gentle as he reverently laid her down on the richly embroidered blankets. He hesitated as he regarded her splayed beneath him, his blonde-haired warrior princess, fiercely strong as she peered up at him from beneath hooded, seductively warm eyes.

He shook with his need to have her, to be inside of her, but this wouldn't work unless it was on her terms. He needed to hear her declaration of love so that he could get them the fuck out of here, and he didn't want to risk another setback if somehow she regretted this in the morning. He had to be sure.

He leaned over her on the bed, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her head, "Usako," he whispered, and his voice shook as he spoke. "Do you want this? Is this okay?" he choked, not entirely sure what he would do if she said no at this point.

Her eyes widened at his question, then filled with a blazing heat of tenderness as her fingers curled into the front of his shirt and she forcibly pulled him down on top of her. "Mamo-chan, I want this," she responded heatedly, and that was all he needed to hear.

He crushed his lips onto hers with feverish intensity as his knee pressed in between her legs, gently parting them. Their movements quickened as he grasped the bottom seam of her shirt, and she leaned forward as he tugged it over her head. He was certain that he heard a tearing sound as he ripped the bikini top off of her body. She gasped as he lowered his head, pulled a perfect pebble into his mouth, expertly nipping and swirling his tongue around it.

She moaned and mewled as her fingers laced into his hair, and his hands slid tantalizingly over her abdomen to the clasp of her jean shorts. It only took a moment to unbutton and unzip them, and she wiggled her hips, helping him as he shimmied both her shorts and the bathing suit bottoms down her legs before discarding them onto the floor.

He pulled away from her to bask in the beauty of her exposed, naked body for a moment, and his gaze swept over every beautiful curve with awe and adoration. "Usako," he choked, "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and she smiled alluringly as she sat up and tugged at his shirt.

He understood, and seconds later he'd discarded his clothing along with hers before covering her body with his again. He pressed his lips onto the crook of her neck, nipping at her collarbone as his hands swept over the contours of her body down to her thighs. His hand slid up between them, and she quivered as he pressed two fingers into the hot, wet folds between her legs.

He caught her cry of pleasure with his lips as he expertly moved and curled them upwards inside of her, sweeping the pad of his thumb over the sensitive nub of flesh, kneading and simultaneously stimulating her senses.

Her legs quivered, and her fingernails pressed moon crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as she cried out with pleasure into his mouth. "Please, Mamo-chan," she pleaded desperately.

She moaned mournfully as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes fixed tenderly onto her face as he lifted her hips, aligning his body with hers. He leaned down, pressed his cheek against hers, nibbling on her earlobe as he reached down between them, parted her slick folds and in one desperate movement plunged into her, burying himself in her hot, wet, warmth.

Their synchronized moans of pleasure echoed around them as he stopped, and allowed her a moment to adjust to him. He felt her tightening and pulsing around his hardened length as her hips began to move, creating unbearably delicious friction as she ground herself against his body from beneath him.

He hesitated one last time, trembling with the willpower it took to maintain control, as he pressed his forehead onto to hers, his eyes clenched shut and his breathing ragged. "Usako," he whispered, the question etched painfully into his tone.

She sighed softly, wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back, effectively burying him to the hilt inside her, silently urging him to continue. He lost whatever control he'd maintained up until that point, and with a guttural groan, pulled out before slamming back into her.

He was trapped in a haze of pleasure as his pace quickened, his movements became more frenzied as he continuously thrust in and out of her. The sound of her mewls and moans fueled him to move faster, press deeper until he could tell by the tone of her cries that she was close, and damn, so was he.

He could feel the sweet pull of release building inside of him, but he couldn't let go. Not until she did too. He reached in between them, pressing his thumb onto the sensitive nub of her core, kneading in tandem with each thrust.

Her legs quivered and pulsed around him, and he crushed his lips onto hers just as she cried out with the sweet release of orgasm. With one final thrust and a feral groan, he followed suit before collapsing on top of her.

He pressed a tender kiss onto her lips as he shifted onto his back, pulling out of her so that she wouldn't have to bear the brunt of his weight. He pulled her back into his arms, and she lay her head on his shoulder, her fingers splayed out on the hard expanse of his chest along with the golden locks of her hair.

He didn't say anything as their breathing gradually slowed, and he lifted a hand, tentative and unsure now, and stroked her hair. His eyes fixed onto the ceiling, and he swallowed nervously. Surely, after everything, she would say it now. She would admit what he already knew was true, her memories would be restored and they would be pulled out of this heart-wrenching world of sorrow, and back to the real world where things made sense, and she wasn't broken and drowning in despair.

He trailed his hand down the length of her spine and peered down at her. "Usako?" he whispered questioningly, but she didn't respond.

He gently pulled her hair off of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek and sighed softly with the realization that she was fast asleep. It had, admittedly, been an emotional day, so he merely pulled her close, and tucked her tightly to his side.

He closed his eyes, a determined resolve coiling around him. His hold tightened around her, she moaned softly in her sleep, and he vowed that no matter what happened, he would get them out of this mess. No matter how many nightmares they had to wade through, or how many times he needed to remind her who she was. He planned to fight tooth and nail the moment they were freed from this. But tonight, he just wanted to hold her.

oOo

He woke slowly, disoriented and bleary-eyed. The sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach were not muffled anymore. He propped himself onto his elbows, turned his head, and blinked into the sunlight pouring in, along with the sounds of the ocean, through the open french doors.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight before his mind cleared from the foggy haze of sleep and he realized, with a start, that Usagi was absent from the bed. He frowned, his eyes scanning the room in confusion. Usagi was not an early riser. If she was up before him, then it was because she couldn't sleep.

He exhaled nervously, stretching the kinks out of his neck as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The sheets tangled up on his waist and he raked a hand through his hair. If Usagi couldn't sleep, it was because something was bothering her. He hoped to God it wasn't the decision to be with him last night. He'd made sure, absolutely sure, that it was what she'd wanted, too. So he hoped that her reason for being awake so early was because she'd finally realized that she was in love with him again. He just needed to hear the words. She must feel it now, after everything, right?

Still, he could feel the painful uncertainty unfurling in his chest as he stood, pulled on a pair of shorts and his red Keio University t-shirt. The pain that had been implanted into Usagi in this nightmare, although completely contrived, had been wheedled so profoundly that the grief was etched into every layer of what made up Usagi. He'd seen it, in her eyes, in her movements, and in the way she did everything in this world. He knew that he'd managed to untangle a lot of the sorrow-filled webs that had been weaved inside of her, but he still wasn't sure yet.

Unfortunately, all of the pain she felt was because of him in this world. Had what he'd done been enough for her to love him again, or at least admit it out loud?

He stepped out of the bedroom, his bare feet burning slightly on the hot sand as he scanned the horizon. She was there, just off in the distance, staring wistfully out into the waves. She was a beautiful, almost ethereal, vision against a breathtaking backdrop; the sun slowly rising, a pink and red tinge casting the darkness aside, as morning rose over the endless expanse of the beach. She was wearing a thin sweater, her arms wrapped around herself as the wind whipped and pulled blond strands of hair from the hastily crafted braid.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and made his way to her. The sound of the waves and the wind, masked any noise he might have made with his approach, so she jumped as his hands lightly grasped her arms from behind.

She peered over her shoulder, blinking up into his face, and his heart sank at the look etched onto its contours. It was not the bright, beautiful expression that his Usagi would have given him after a night together.

A soft smile curled onto her lips, but there was still a deep-seated sorrow layered in the pools of her eyes. "Mamo-chan," she murmured, twisting her body around so that she was facing him. His hands automatically trailed down the length of her arms and settled onto her hips. "Good morning," she whispered, and her words were tentative and unsure.

He frowned, swallowing around the panic tightening his throat. No. She loved him. Dammit, she had too. "Usako," he said, and he was pleased to note that there wasn't a hint of the terror-filled anxiety that was bubbling up inside of him present in his voice. "Is everything alright?" he asked softly because he didn't know what else to say.

She tilted her head to the side, and he held his breath, his heart pounding as she averted her gaze and bit her lower lip nervously. No. "Mamo-chan, the past couple of days have been amazing," she whispered raggedly, and his hands tightened on her waist. She looked up again, and her eyes were wide, full, and filled with sadness. "It's everything I wished for, this version of you. It's who I fell in love with, and if you had done this, even six months ago, I think it would be different -" he could feel it coming, the fucking words that he didn't want to hear. These emotions going through her weren't real, dammit. This wasn't their life.

He pulled her into his arms, crushed her body to his chest, and his hands trembled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Usako," he said hoarsely, dropping his head and pressing his lips onto her shoulder. "Please, don't finish that sentence," he pleaded desperately.

She didn't finish her sentence, and her arms tentatively curled around his waist. He took a deep breath, lifted his head and peered down into her upturned face. "I love you. More than anything," he said forcefully.

Her eyes widened, and she was silent for a moment as her sad sapphire gaze, met the intensely desperate cobalt blue of his. "But, Mamo-chan. Will you love me like this when we're home again? Or is this just going to be another thing I'm going to have to survive?" she whispered brokenly.

Screw this nightmare. He was done with this. He couldn't stand seeing the pain and uncertainty tearing her up anymore. With an anguished groan, he cradled her face in his hands. "I'm not going to change, Usako," he breathed, his face inches from hers. "Do you love me, Usagi?" he demanded, and he knew, he should have known, that it didn't work like that. He couldn't force the words from her lips.

She considered his question for what seemed like an eternity, before responding. "I don't know, Mamo-chan. I'm confused," she murmured, and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. The look of utter despondency must have been written onto his face, because she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up and pressed a tender kiss onto his lips, before pulling away again. "I want to try, though. I want to work on this, I just need more time," she pleaded, before resting her head onto his chest, tucked comfortably beneath his chin. "Will you give me more time, Mamo-chan? To let go of all the … pain?" she whispered, her tone imploring and tinged with hesitancy.

He wanted to scream with frustration. She loved him, but the pained memories of this world wouldn't allow her to completely forgive him enough to admit it out loud. He clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath and forcibly exhaled the defeat and disappointment. This nightmare was not going to win. He would get them out of here, no matter how fucking long it took.

He tightened his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "Yes, Usako. I'll prove to you that I want this," he murmured, and she sighed and melted into his embrace. "You can take all of the time you need. In the meantime, I can love you enough for the both of us," he said softly.

This was not the ending he'd anticipated for this trip to Jamaica. He'd hoped that it would end with her heartfelt declaration, and then him standing beside his Senshi clad warrior princess as they promptly destroyed the monsters that were torturing them here. He sighed softly, forcibly let go of his expectations and the disappointment. He would ride this out with her to the very end. He would not lose. Not to this nightmare, and not to the false grief that went with it. No matter how long it took.

oOo

Though it hadn't entirely turned out as he'd anticipated, he did have to admit, the 16-hour flight back to Tokyo was considerably more enjoyable than the trip there. Usagi, while still apprehensive about her feelings towards him, was markedly brighter, warmer, and definitely not opposed to his touch anymore.

He was definitely not opposed to the amount of time that she opted to spend in his arms either, and when she wasn't curled up in his embrace, it was because she was eating. He was secretly relieved when she didn't turn down any of her in-flight meals this time, and though her appetite was still not up to par with his insatiable Usako, it was still a good indication that he truly was on the right track. It strengthened his resolve, and the last of his disappointment melted away with his newfound determination. He was so close.

He could already see the sorrow melting away. He only needed a couple more days to prove to her that he was just as devoted to her in what she believed was their day-to-day life as he was in Jamaica, and she would admit the love he knew she already felt. He would have preferred to have escaped this nightmare altogether, but if he was going to be here, he definitely preferred this version of his Usako, as opposed to the one that had hated him.

She'd fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist, at about the 11th-hour mark of their trip. He fixed his gaze out of the oval-shaped plane window into the darkness of the sky whirring by, his index finger absentmindedly tracing circles on Usagi's arm, as he lost himself deep in thought. He was carefully crafting a detailed plan to coax a confession from the blonde curled up beside him when his eyes, of their own accord, closed and he fell into a restless sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he'd drifted in and out of consciousness when he was awakened by a smiling, redheaded stewardess. "I'm very sorry to wake you, sir. We're preparing to land, so I am going to have to ask you to buckle your seatbelt," she whispered cordially, glancing back at Usagi who was also still fast asleep. Her head was practically in his lap now, as she slumped over in an awkward position.

He nodded, and, still smiling, the Stewardess continued down the aisles, conveying the same message to the other passengers.

He winced as he stretched the kinks out of his neck, leant over his sleeping wife, and tenderly swept a wispy curl off of her face before gently shaking her awake. "Usako, it's time to wake up. We're landing," he murmured softly, and she moaned, stirring beside him as her eyes fluttered open. "We're almost home," he said, his smile doting as he watched her sit up, yawn loudly, and stretch slender arms above her head.

"Mm, home?" she sighed questioningly, still dazed, before the clouded look in her eyes cleared. He watched with puzzled amusement, as a red tinge crept, quite adorably, across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, "Oh…" she murmured, nibbled her lower lip anxiously, a look of dismay washing over delicate facial features. "I wanted to ask you something… before… before we got here," she stammered with embarrassment, wringing her hands nervously.

He frowned, confused, and, quite honestly, terrified by what she was going to say. At this point, he'd learned that he should always expect another obstacle; that whoever was orchestrating this nightmare had purposefully inserted heart-wrenching twists and turns into everything. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst as he took her hands into his, effectively stilling the nervous habit, before peering down into her eyes. "Usako, what is it?" he asked softly, his brow furrowed with curiosity.

Her face reddened even more, and his breath hitched at the alluring sight. "I was hoping, that when we got home," she choked on her words, exhaling a frustrated breath, as she fixed her eyes onto their intertwined hands. "I don't even know why this is so difficult for me. So I'm just going to say it," she said, her words spilling out of her mouth in quick, Minako-like fashion. Damn, he was really nervous now. "When we get home, I want to move my things back into your - er- our bedroom," she said it all in one breath, her eyes burning with the fear of rejection, as she stared up at him.

It took a moment for her request to register, and his shoulders relaxed instantly, relief washing through his tensed muscles, as he inwardly sighed. What was he going to have to do to dispel all of her insecurities? It was apparent to him now that the reason she wouldn't say that she loved him out loud - because she clearly loved him - was because she didn't trust him not to break her heart again.

She was watching him, unnecessarily nervous about his response. He smiled widely, shook his head in exasperation, then swept down and passionately claimed her lips with his own. She melted against him just as the plane landed, with jarring impact, onto the tarmac at the international airport in Tokyo.

He hadn't needed to answer. It was evident in the way her lips moved beneath his that the kiss was a sufficient enough response.

oOo

Usagi was practically dead on her feet when they finally walked through the doorway into the genkan. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, but the flight and the emotional toll of the past couple of days were admittedly wearing down on his blue-eyed blonde who yawned loudly as she stumbled ahead of him into the darkened interior of the hall.

He smiled softly as he steadied her. The Usako of this world was a relatively graceful version of the one he knew and loved, so it was nice to see a bit of her clumsiness seep through. With one hand still resting on her waist, he leaned over and flicked on one of the many light switches lining the wall. He'd managed to choose the correct one, and it effectively lit up the whole house.

Usagi yawned again, before swivelling around to face him. She slowly lifted delicately slender arms above her head, stretching out tense muscles with an enticing moan, before curling them around his neck. His breath hitched in his throat as he lovingly peered down into her smiling face, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Just because she looked so damn adorable, and because they'd settled into something sweet and tenderly comfortable, he leaned down and placed a playful kiss on the tip of her nose.

Her eyes lit up, and she giggled drowsily before dropping her head onto his shoulder. "It feels nice to be home, Mamo-chan," she murmured sleepily. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Her silky hair tickling his jaw as he smiled sadly. This wasn't home for him. It wasn't for her either, and he was eager to get them back to where they belonged.

With a tender kiss and a gentle squeeze, he released her and stepped back. "Why don't you go upstairs, take a nap, and I'll fix us some dinner?" he said gently, as he studied her beautifully flushed face. He was confident that she'd admit her love for him by the end of the day, then this would be over.

Her smile widened, and she nodded gratefully. "Do you want me to bring our stuff upstairs?" she questioned, though her tone of voice indicated that she didn't really want too.

He shook his head, "No. Go, Usako. We can take care of it later," he said warmly, and her smile brightened.

She took a step towards him, propelled herself onto the tips of her toes, playfully kissed his lips before swivelling around, and bounding up the steps. He chuckled, his eyes lingering appreciatively on the curves of her figure as she disappeared before he turned towards the white countered kitchen that actually seemed a little cozier today.

He pulled open the fridge doors. It was strange to still see it fully stocked with ingredients. Although, he supposed it wouldn't all go bad in three days. It just felt like they'd been gone for so much longer. He frowned, thoroughly confused by the complexities of this world. How was any of this even possible?

He internally contemplated all of the intricate details that had been carefully crafted into these nightmares as he pulled out randomly chosen ingredients to whip something up for them.

He allowed his mind to race through all of the potential possibilities for the new enemy that they were now facing as he absentmindedly chopped, diced, and cooked their dinner. He was so deeply entrenched into his internal musings that he didn't notice Usagi standing in the threshold of the kitchen.

"Get out."

The sound of her voice was ragged, broken and filled with a burning intensity that was even more heart wrenching than when he'd first spoken to her the morning after waking up in this place. It startled him, and his gaze snapped to hers in narrowed confusion.

Her posture was stiff, unyielding, her skin a pale alabaster colour devoid of her usual blush. What really ripped at his heart, and caused his breath to quicken in terror, though, was the look in her eyes.

Tears were rolling unchecked down her cheeks, leaving tear-stained trails of pain, and her eyes were filled with a devastation that was worse than anything he'd ever seen. It was more than just the devastation, though. There was a broken-hearted and disappointed contempt threaded there, too.

He dropped the knife he'd been using. It clattered noisily onto the cutting board, and the sound echoed loudly around them. He twisted around and reached out for her, but she pulled away, hissing brokenly through her teeth. His heart skipped a painful beat in the cavity of his chest. What the hell had happened?

With narrowed eyes of confusion, his hands still frozen in midair, he took another tentative step towards her. "Usako, what's wrong?" he questioned, and the panic rising with startling terror in his throat was seeping into his tone.

She stepped back in tandem with his step forward, her body trembling with rage. "What's wrong?" she spat hoarsely, her tone laced with disbelief. "You want to know what's wrong?" she was choking on her words, and he felt like he was choking too. What had happened in the twenty minutes since she'd gone upstairs?

He reached for her again, because he didn't know what else to do, the confusion so clearly etched on his face as his mind raced with everything that might have happened. Was this another fucking twist? He'd done everything right!

"Usako-" he began with desperation, but she furiously interrupted him.

"Don't call me that, Mamoru," she hissed. "You cold-hearted son of a bitch. I believed you… I believed that you …" she couldn't finish her sentence as a broken-hearted sob of agony tore from her lips.

He didn't give a damn that she'd demanded her space. He closed the gap between them and clasped her arms in a firm grip, fully intending on pulling her into his arms. She let out a cry of fury as she forcibly pushed him away.

He stumbled back, bracing his hands on the counter behind him. He was internally screaming in frustration. This nightmare fucking sucked, and he was done with it. He was tired of watching her break over and over again. What the fuck had happened? He'd been so damn close!

He wanted to scream at the injustice of whatever secondary twist had been wrought into this hellhole. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmly faced down his crushed, agonized, reason for breathing. "Usako, what did I do?" he whispered, and his tone was deathly quiet, though very audible, even over the sound of her ragged breathing,

She laughed then, and it was a hysterical sound he'd never heard before. "I went upstairs, to sleep, in our bedroom," she sneered derisively, the words dripping with disdain from her lips. It was a tone he never wanted to hear from her again. "And it was there. Just sitting on the side table, charging and untouched," the anguish was replacing the derision now, and she clenched her eyes closed, drowning in pain.

He didn't know what she meant, and his heart began to hammer inside of his chest. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, and this time his words were harsh, too.

The red-rimmed, sapphire-blue of her eyes burned hotly as she slowly lifted her hand, waving a sleek faced, black cell phone at him. He'd never seen it before, but he knew that it must have been his. His breath hitched painfully in his throat. He didn't know what the hell she'd seen on 'his' cell phone, but, based on his knowledge of the Mamoru of this world, he could only imagine what horrors were saved on there. The thought caused his throat to constrict with terror.

When he didn't say anything, at a loss for words, the unfettered fury in her eyes melted away into a look of anguished defeat that ripped at his heart. "Can you imagine how I felt?" she whispered with slumped shoulders, her fingers clenched around the phone so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "You said you needed a break from technology, so I wasn't surprised to see all the notifications flashing on your screen," her tear-filled eyes met his gaze. "I should have left it, but you're so different now, and I was curious." He could only watch, his face whitening, a painful dread unfurling in his chest. "It's like you don't even care, you haven't even bothered to change your fucking password."

He needed to say something. This wasn't real… whatever she'd found on that phone was not really him. It was a trick, a twisted sick joke. "Please, Usagi," he pleaded. "I'm not sure what you think you've found-" he began, but she coldly interjected.

Her eyes hardened icily as she glared at him. "What I think I've found?" she snapped furiously, "Do you mean the hundreds of text messages from my best friend carefully sending you every single message I've ever sent to her about you? Was that how you knew exactly what to say to me, Mamoru?" She demanded, and he inwardly cursed Minako. "Or do you mean this," she snapped, furiously, swiping across the screen and prodding it angrily.

The sound of Ami's voice, in the form of a voicemail echoing from 'his' phone, caused his heart to skip a beat in frozen horror.

"Hey… I just spoke with Kunzite, and he told me that you've gone off to Jamaica with Usagi. I have to admit, I was a little confused at first and really hurt, too, Mamo-chan. I mean, how can you say you love me, and that you're going to leave her one second, and then take off to Jamaica with her the next? I thought about it… and I know you're worried about setting off her drinking problem again. So…. whenever you're ready, I'll be here, Mamo-chan."

The horrifying recording ended with a deafening click. His breathing quickened, and the bile rose in his throat at the despair curling around him. Her eyes, angry, broken, devastated, were glaring at him expectantly. She was waiting for him to say something, to deny it even. But how could he, when she'd seen the undeniable proof that was curled like a venomous snake in her hand?

There had to be a way to salvage this. To fix what the bodiless monsters had done to them. It wasn't going to end like this. He wouldn't allow them to stay trapped in this nightmare for a second longer.

He took a step towards her. How could he make her understand? By the hardened look in her eyes and the unyielding demeanour with which she faced him, he knew that the devotion and endless patience he would have used to coax a confession from her was no longer an option.

His heart was aching with the dread and the pain of what he needed to do now. "I'm sorry, Usako," he whispered remorsefully. Her eyes widened in horror, and she gasped, a look of pure agony contorting her delicate facial features. With a quick swipe of her hand, she violently smashed the phone onto the marbled counter. It shattered, splintered pieces of glass, steel and plastic skidding in all directions.

He knew that she'd been expecting a denial, any kind of denial, and it was shredding him into pieces to see her like this. "Get out," she cried brokenly, crossing her arms and clutching her biceps so tightly he was sure she was leaving crescent-shaped marks on the soft surface of her skin.

He wanted to scream, to hyperventilate, to shake the memories back into her. Instead, he ignored the unbearably pressing urge and closed the gap between them, again, clasping her shoulders and pulled her towards him. This time he did not step back when she tried to push him away.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly, the tone of his voice deathly calm, which in no way reflected the terror churning around inside of him. There was a chance, a huge one, that this wouldn't work.

Her head snapped up, her eyes seething as she pushed him again. He was expecting it when she lifted her hand in the air, and with all the strength she could muster, slapped him. He gritted his teeth as the stinging sensation from the forceful impact resonated painfully across his face. It must have felt cathartic, because she lifted her hand to strike him again, but this time he clasped her wrist to stop her.

She struggled against him, but he would not, could not, let her go. He would never let her go. "Why are you angry, Usako?" he demanded, and he hated himself for asking it, for pushing her further than he had any right too.

She gasped furiously, her face red with rage, her eyes filling with disbelief at the audacity of his question. "Are you fucking kidding me? Why am I angry?" she practically screeched, the sound pierced his ears and his heart. "Because you're a heartless monster, Mamoru," she seethed.

He shook his head, tightened his hand around her wrist and wrapped his other hand around her waist. "No, that's not it, Usako," he whispered, his voice breaking with strained emotion. "Those are words of hatred. What I did wouldn't hurt so much if you hated me. Why are you angry, Usako?" This had to work. He just needed to hear the words.

She froze, the blood draining from her face as she glared up at him, a fresh onslaught of tears welling in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" she choked the words out, her body trembling with sorrow. His vision swam with tears of his own, and he almost stopped. But he knew that it would be worse for her if he didn't press her harder.

He steeled his resolve, and tightened his arm around her more firmly. "Why would this make you angry, Usako? Why do you care?" he demanded, and fuck, it was heartless. It was cruel. But he had to do it.

She stopped struggling, and her body slumped against him as she whimpered on her despair. "How can you even ask me that?" she sobbed, and he had to hold her up to keep from falling now.

The tears he hadn't meant to shed were rolling hotly down his face now, too, but he blinked them back, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. "Do you even care, Usako?" She did. Of course she fucking did. And he hated himself even more for even asking this of her, but he had too. He had to get them out of here.

She stiffened in his arms again, inhaling sharply at the cruel words he'd dared to ask her, as her intensely burning gaze met his. "Fuck you, Mamoru. You know why it hurts me," she whispered angrily.

He lowered his face so that it was only inches from hers. Her chest was heaving with emotion; her ragged breath warmly fanning across his face. "Why?" he demanded, and it was all he could manage. He couldn't do this anymore if she didn't cave. He was done after this. He would languish here, search for another way, no matter how long it took, but he couldn't bear to purposefully hurt her anymore.

Luckily, he was not faced with that horrible possibility. With all of the seething anger, sorrow, and the burning intensity of her love for him, the flashing sapphire hues of her eyes firmly met his gaze. "Because I love you! I love you, you stupid…" she trailed off, inhaling sharply, an array of emotion flashing across her face.

He nearly wept, crumpled to the ground in blissful relief as he watched her eyes narrow in confusion before they widened with recognition. It was over. She remembered.

She gasped, and her hands shook as she tenderly cradled his face. He exhaled deeply, all of the tension coiled into his muscles seeping away as his trembling hands covered hers.

She shook her head with frustrated confusion. "Mamo-chan," she choked. "Oh my God. This isn't real," she whispered, still bewildered, and trying to decipher the difference between her real memories, and the false ones that had been expertly weaved into her mind. "Mamo-chan, how long do we have?" She whispered hoarsely, a terrified urgency laced into her tone as she pulled her hands out from beneath his and curled her arms around his neck.

He buried his face into the golden locks of her hair, breathing in the lavender and vanilla scent, as he wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know. It seems to get a little longer each time it happens," he whispered, as he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, and they were her eyes this time.

He felt defeated, utterly exhausted from the emotionally draining experience of this nightmare. But Usagi's eyes hardened with determined resolve. His Senshi warrior princess was back and ready to fight. "Mamo-chan, it's alright," she whispered tenderly, and the loving tone in her voice nearly broke him. "It's going to be okay. If we just get the others then…"

The familiar buzzing sound was deafening as it echoed around them and he clutched at her desperately because he knew what that meant. This nightmare was over, and they were going to rip them apart again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face another world like this.

She pressed her lips to his ear, her fingers lacing into the ebony locks of hair at the back of his head. "Mamo-chan, whatever happens, don't give up. I love you," she whispered desperately, but also with a firm conviction that filled him with strength and a renewed determination.

He was going to tell her that he loved her too, and he would never give up, but it was too late. She was forcibly ripped from his arms once again, and everything went black.