Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon and I am not making any money off this story. It's just something to entertain myself with.

I have NO intentions to abandon this story; I swear with the whole 'stick a needle in my eye' and everything. Without getting into personal matters, life has just plain sucked and I've been struggling a lot. Sick, too; I keep getting sick. . . .

Besides, this chapter kept ballooning past everything I was trying to make it and, as I dissect the manga (LOVE, LOVE IT! How did I go so long without knowing the true story?), I realized that my plan to make this story an AU retelling-ish thing has, well, not been much of a "retelling." I have half a mind to start all over but I won't. I love this story too darn much! Just, you know, be forewarned that the next story might be a little packed with . . . evilness . . . —insert ironic evil laughter—

That being said, I am still planning on the continuation to this. I have just over a hundred pages of ideas/scenes for it, plus the hundred-twenty or so for this. Oh yeah. :D Oh! I've also been trying to improve my grammar and punctuation. Comments, suggestions? Does it read better?

Well, here's to hoping that I managed to keep the atmosphere of the last chapter and that there aren't too many errors. :) Please R/R, and enjoy!

On to the story~!

---

Last time:

"And you know what she told me? 'Darien always knows what to say'. What is that supposed to even mean!" Ikuko paused briefly, but the silence was heavy. "Kenji, I think . . . I think Darien knows. You know, about Serena's secret. And . . . and I think he might be blackmailing her or using it against her or . . . or something. For them to get this close, this sudden . . ."

The toddler gasped in delight even as Darien's grimace deepened. "Know Mama?"

"Y-yeah," Serena answered shakily, desperately trying to block out her mother's horrible comments. "I think I might have known your Mama." She swallowed thickly. "She was my fr-friend."

If possible, Rose's eyes grew wider with each word. "Mama fwend?" She gasped again, her eyes sparkling. "Mama bwerthday 'oon! 'elp Rose with pwesent for Mama?" Her smile faded as Serena abruptly choked on a sob. "Sir-we-na . . .?"

"All right everyone, time for breakfast!" Ikuko exclaimed with an overly-bright smile before it faded as she caught sight of the scene taking place. Serena looked like she was fighting back tears, Rose looked as confused and frightened as a child could get, Darien was touching her daughter's shoulder a little too familiarly for her comfort, and Shingo was watching everything with wide, bewildering eyes. "What . . ." She whirled on Darien furiously. "What have you done?"

---

The response around the room was instantaneous.

Darien's shoulders stiffened in defense even as his hand dropped from Serena's shoulder numbly. Kenji and Shingo, on the other hand, simply allowed their mouths to drop open in shock at the usually sweet housewife's behavior. Rose, in confusion, bit her lip as all the emotion emitting from the pretty lady's mommy invaded her psyche.

Serena's reaction, of course, was the most vocal. "M-Mom! He didn't do anything! Nothing!"

Ikuko pursed her lips as she practically slammed the stack of pancakes she was holding down onto the table. "You're crying, Serena. Obviously someone did something! And he"—she cast a swift glare at Darien, who met her square in the eye—"looks guilty!"

It was a struggle for Kenji to shake off his shock, barely managing to say, "Now, dear—"

Serena, in the meantime, had jumped to her feet with a scowl. "Darien doesn't like crying! He can look uneasy, if he wants to!"

"Serena—" Darien tried, only for him to be interrupted like Kenji had.

"None of that tells me why you're crying!" Ikuko insisted as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Because of you! I heard you, Mom! Of course I'm going to cry when I hear you telling Dad you think Darien is some horrible, manipulative, blackmailing kind of person!"

Shingo and Kenji winced as Ikuko took a step back, paling. "Serena . . . oh, honey, I didn't mean . . . it—it's just a little . . . strange, is all; the relationship you two have. . . ."

"Strange? Strange?" Serena cried disbelievingly. "You're trying to tell me you said all that stuff about him because it's strange that we're friends?"

Darien grimaced and stood, a stricken Rose clinging to his neck. "I think we should leave. . . ."

Serena whirled on him, making her tears splash down her cheeks at the sudden move. "No. Sit down." He continued to look hesitate, making her narrow her eyes. "Sit down, now," she snapped.

He immediately did.

"Okay," he whispered as he hiked the toddler higher up in his arms. Rose watched everything wide-eyed, unsure of what to do but bravely trying not to cry.

Serena felt her face soften as she looked at the girl. "Shingo, go take Rose outside again," she ordered as her eyes flashed over to him.

Shingo gawked, swearing to himself as he saw silver pupils staring at him. He blinked, rubbing his own eyes briefly, but when he opened them again all he saw was his regular blue-eyed sister's pleading expression.

"Please," she whispered. "Neither you or Rose should hear this."

"O-oh. Okay." Half in a daze, he stumbled over to Rose and took her from Darien's grip, feeling as wary as the man looked. "Come on, Rose," he said softly. "We can go look at the birdies again, okay?"

She paid him almost no mind. Instead, her worried eyes flitted over everyone before they stopped on Serena. "Rose . . . Rose ah'wy."

Serena froze at the reminder of what the girl had said what seemed like ages ago. 'A birthday present for Makoto. . . .' She swallowed thickly. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, sweetie," she insisted gently. "We just . . . my Mama and I got mad at each other but we're going to be okay as soon as we talk. All right?" She forced herself to smile as brightly as she could.

Rose continued to look unsure, her eyes darting back and forth between the Tsukino women, before nodding hesitantly as Ikuko mustered up a smile—or, at least, what looked like one—too. "O'ay." She looked up at Shingo curiously. "'irdies eat 'an'ake?"

He smiled. "I don't see why not." He looked around the room briefly before shaking his head. "We'll be taking some of these then . . ." He grabbed his plate, tossing a few of the cooling pancakes on it, and hiked the toddler higher up in his grip. "We got to eat our breakfast too, right, Rose?"

She grinned and, in all her toddler-innocence, within a blink of an eye she didn't seem to be bothered by the tense atmosphere around her anymore. "'an'ake! Rose wuv 'an'ake!"

He chuckled as he walked out of the room. "I had a feeling you did. So, how about we—"

The second the duo's conversation was cut off by the front door closing behind them, Ikuko began. "You're my daughter, Serena, I'm just looking out for you. I didn't say it was strange Darien and you are friends. I said it was strange the kind of relationship you two had."

The smile Rose and Shingo had brought to Serena's face quickly faded. "You want to hear about strange, Mom?"

She turned around, her expression so intense that Ikuko had to stop herself from flinching. Those weren't Serena's eyes—they were Sailor Moon's. The battle-hardened warrior; not her sweet, innocent daughter . . .

"I was a fourteen-year-old," Serena continued, "who was told by a cat—yeah, a cat; Luna can really talk, she can read, too—that I was supposed to be Sailor Moon and battle these . . . these monsters that looked like they came from my darkest nightmares. That is strange. Whatever you seem to think the relationship Darien and I have is nothing like that."

Ikuko's eyes stayed trained on Darien the entire time Serena spoke, only to pale as he simply continued to sit there in silence. No shock. No surprise. Just silence. "You . . . you really do know," she said nervously. "That's why you weren't surprised about Makoto . . . Jupiter . . . upstairs."

He looked over at her, only offering a solemn "Yes," before looking back up at where Serena was still standing behind him and her chair.

Ikuko's mouth opened and closed, flabbergasted, as she also shifted her attention back to her daughter.

The blonde didn't even flinch. "Yeah. Darien knows. But he isn't blackmailing me or manipulating me or . . . or whatever like you seem to think he is. I was the one that all but shouted it out to him while we were watching Jupiter die on the news; it was voluntary information, okay?"

"You . . . you were in shock, grieving. That's duress," Ikuko argued.

"No it wasn't. Yeah, I admit I hinted at everything on accident but I would have found a way out of it if I hadn't of wanted him to know in the end. And go ahead and tell me how much of a mistake or . . . or how strange that was of me. I don't care because I know it's not. A lot of things are strange in my life, things you probably would never imagine, but there's one thing I know that will never be and that's Darien. We weren't 'this close, this sudden', like you said. This has been months in the making. I've spent time with him almost every day since February, Mom. That's almost nine months."

"You complained about him all the time, though."

"So? I complain about Shingo just as much! You count the number of times I've called my own brother a creep and I know it'll be as much as I've called Darien a jerk. And, just to let you know," Serena added suddenly. "I literally run into Darien on my way to school. I'm going to notice that when I accidentally have coffee splashed on me sometimes, its always straight black. Then when I go to the arcade in the afternoon, he orders the same drink at least twice. Sometimes more when he's studying for a test. And it's always either straight black or with two creams. You know me; when it isn't, I'm going to go over to him and ask why and tell him he needs to realize how nasty that stuff is, anyways. I caught on quick that when his coffee happens to have sugar, he's in a bad mood. It isn't strange that I know all that; it's just stuff you notice when you spend time with someone. He could probably tell you exactly what I order and when, too."

Ikuko frowned at the conviction in her daughter's voice, making an effort not to acknowledge Darien's thoughtful look. It was as if wondering if he could do as Serena said. "Just because you know someone's coffee order doesn't mean you actually know someone."

Serena scowled. "You want a fact sheet? He was born in Britain and turned eighteen on August third. His shoe size is a Japanese twenty-six and he's six-foot-two. His favorite color is black and he likes red too because both his motorcycle and car are those colors. He loves nature more than anything, probably, and he doesn't have a favorite season because he loves them all for different reasons. His favorite food is chocolate but he'll deny it if you ask because he thinks a doctor—or any other sane, healthy person for that matter—shouldn't love it as much as he does. His favorite thing to wear was this ugly green blazer but it got ruined and stained with blood after he wrapped it around me that night I went to the hospital. He's a first year at K.O. University in their medicine program and before that he attended Moto Azuba Junior High and High School. His favorite subject has always been physics and he loves going to school because he can challenge himself and learn something new all at once. He's private and a perfectionist; he's quiet and mysterious and sometimes he can seem indifferent but he's really sweet and thoughtful. He's richer than any of us can imagine but I only found out about that a few days ago because he isn't snobby or anything else like you'd expect. He hates people worrying about him, yet he's probably the biggest worrier you'll ever come across when it comes to someone he really cares about. And that's why he's so determined to get Hotaru's guardianship, so she won't have to go through what he did." She stopped, taking a deep breath.

"Don't you dare say I don't know Darien," she continued in a heated whisper. "I may not know every single thing there is to know about him but I do know him better than most people and he knows me just as well. That's just what we do. We notice things about each other and then we tease each other. He calls me Odango Atama, I call him a jerk. He says something to me, I get mad and throw a shoe or anything else at him when I can't come up with a good enough retort. Sometimes I come home still angry but now more than ever do I regret all those things I ranted about him. You're only using my own frustrated words against me. Against him." She squeezed her eyes shut. "And it's not right. I know Darien and he would never be the person you seem to think he is. He's only trying to help me."

Ikuko's eyes narrowed against her own volition. "I'm sorry for what I said in the kitchen; I honestly am." Her eyes flicked to Darien briefly but his attention stayed focused on Serena. "But you don't need to rely on him like this," she added desperately. "We can help you just as well as he can. With anything."

"And just what do you think he's helping me with?" Ikuko opened her mouth only to instantly pause, making Serena frown tightly. "No, better question," she whispered. "What do you think he's forcing me to do?" She paused, searching her mother's pale face. "I'm a virgin and I plan to be for a long while; is that what you want to hear? Or how about that was only my second kiss that you saw on the doorstep that night? The first one only happened hours before and we sat in an awkward silence the entire drive back here. The third one and half the forth happened upstairs, yeah, but considering this topic and the fact we're having it in front of Darien and you and Dad, I'm positive I won't get another for months. If that."

Ikuko flinched at the girl's harsh words even as her heart soared at them. "I . . . I never thought—"

"Mom," Serena cut in. "I'm being honest here. Brutally honest, in fact. I think I deserve the same respect. I know exactly what you were thinking." She took a deep breath, shaking her head. "And guess what? It didn't happen, wasn't going to happen, and it won't any time soon. He's helping me; that's it!"

"With what?" Ikuko cried. "I'm trying to understand here but I can't. You have other people to help you. You have us—your family—and you have your friends. They're Senshi; they understand what you're going through when we aren't able to. There's nothing that Darien can do that the rest of us can't!"

"Yes there is. Plenty of stuff."

Something told her not to say it, that it would only cause more harm than good, but Ikuko was too furious and concerned to listen to the little voice inside of her. "Then tell me. Now. I demand to know just what he can do. What? Is it the fact that he can make you cry yourself to sleep every night? Because I know it's not from anyone else; it only began happening after you began spending more time with him. Or is it because he can force you to stop hanging out with your real friends in favor of him?" Even before she registered Kenji's startled hiss of her name and Darien's dark glare, she knew she'd gone too far. But it was already too late to take it back and, honestly, she wasn't so sure she wanted to.

"Have you ever heard of coincidence, Mom?" Serena snapped, making Ikuko wince. "Because there's a lot that's happened this past month—the same month I've been spending more time with Darien in—that makes me cry at night. He hasn't forced me to do a thing. I've only been forced to do one thing and that was giving up being Sailor Moon by the other Senshi. They forced me, Mom. As in they physically took away the broach I used to transform, powers, and everything else I had. I haven't given up on spending time with my friends, all but Ami and Makoto gave up on me. And then Makoto died." Serena took a shaky breath even as her hands clenched at her sides. "I have a lot to cry over. More than you can ever know. Rei and Minako don't want me around; Luna left me, remember? Ami might want to hang out with me but I'll only get her into trouble if we try to outside of school. All their lives revolve around being Senshi and I'm not one anymore. My life's stopped being consumed with having to lie about where I've been or where I'm going. I'm not being called to a battle in the middle of the night that I might never come back from. A battle I spent almost the entire time worrying if you're going to check up on me only to find me missing and think who knows what. I'm not the one who has to skip yet another class that I'm in danger of failing, or the one to automatically fall asleep in ones I can attend because I'm so tired from the day or night before—" She stopped abruptly, trying to swallow the thick lump forming in her throat.

Darien clenched his hands against the tops of his knees to keep from reaching out to her; he knew it'd only make the situation that much worse. Even still, he was desperately trying to get his mouth to work and say what was on his mind. Yet it refused to cooperate, leaving the thoughts to repeat over and over to his mind uselessly. 'Just let me leave, Serena. You don't have to defend me like this. I don't want to be the one to ruin you and your mother's relationship.'

After what seemed like hours, Serena took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I started spending time with Darien because I finally could. Because I wasn't almost instantly pulled this way or that every time I tried to talk to him. He's become as much of a friend as Ami is and Makoto was." She paused, shaking her head. "No. He's not just one of my best friends—he's my very best. And that's why he always knows what to say. He knows what to say to cheer me up, or to make me stop dwelling on every bad thing that's been happening to me lately." Her eyes snapped open to fix on her mother. "You saw him upstairs. He got me to stop crying over Makoto in minutes. You can't do that. You don't understand what's happened like he does. You just . . . you don't understand."

"Then tell me," Ikuko pleaded. "Tell me what's been happening so I can understand. It's not fair that only he should be privy to any of this . . . this thing going on!"

"Fair?" Serena stared at her mother in disbelief, torn between laughing and crying again. "Has it even occurred to you that I'm not telling you for a reason? This has nothing to do with fairness. If I could, I wouldn't even have involved him but he was already a part of everything before I ever knew it!"

"Serena," Darien began slowly. He swallowed a few times, forcing the next words out of his dry mouth. "Maybe we should tell them—"

"No." She whirled on him with a glower. "Don't you dare. There isn't any need for them to know that." Her eyes softened as she saw the concern in his. "And you know as well as I do that they'd only treat you the same way the Senshi do."

"It doesn't matter," he insisted. It was getting easier to speak with each word, but not by much. "Your mother already hates me just as much as they do now. What would telling her do, really?"

She snorted and crossed her arms across her chest. "Oh, I don't know. How about we pick one of the numerous things I can think of off the top of my head?"

Kenji opened his mouth, intent on asking the question burning on his tongue, before closing it before the first syllable was formed. No. He knew his suspicion was right; it had to be with the way the two of them were acting. 'He's Tuxedo Mask, just like I've thought. . . .'

Ikuko watched the two teenagers as they engaged in a silent war of wills, at a total loss, before her eyes narrowed. "If the Senshi hate someone, then I would think they have a mighty good reason too."

Serena's head snapped over to her mother. "Then am I a good reason?" Ikuko only looked at her baffled. "They hate Darien because he protected me," she elaborated. "Tried as much as he possibly could, as a matter of fact. They hated the fact he was trying to be helpful. Chivalrous, even."

"I knew it," Kenji's whisper went unheard by anyone, as did his rapidly widening—and thankful—eyes.

"That can't be the only reason they hate him." Disbelief filled Ikuko's words. "There has to be another reason why."

"You don't even care that they hate him at all, do you?" Serena scowled as her mother's silence. "How about you tell me why you hate him, then? You didn't a few days ago, I know that for sure. You gave him clothes for me and let him take me hours away from here, as a matter of fact! And I know it couldn't have been that he spent the night in my room because you didn't throw him out the first time you came up. So, this morning then? When you found out we'd kissed in my room? Or how about the fact that I defended him against all these crazy accusations of yours?" She shook her head before anyone had a chance to say anything. "No. It doesn't matter. You're just like them. There isn't any real reason to hate him but you still do. Like . . . like you're expected to or something, for goodness sakes!" She gasped, her eyes widening. "Like your expected to. . . . No," she whispered as she began to lose herself in possibilities. "That would be impossible. She couldn't do that. Could . . . she? She made them do other stuff, I guess . . ."

"Serena?" Her head snapped over to Darien as he began to stand in worry. "What is it?"

"I . . . I don't know," she whispered before shaking her head quickly and grabbing a hold of his arm. "Come on. I need to ask you something."

"It can wait," Ikuko insisted.

Serena's eyes narrowed but she didn't stop her tugging on Darien's arm in a vain attempt to get him to move. He'd stood up all the way, now all he had to do was follow her out of the room—hopefully out of the house—so she could find out if what she was thinking was a real possibility or not. If Luna really could have . . . "No. It can't."

"Then say it right here, right now."

Serena heaved a cross between a frustrated growl and a sigh as she turned to her mother. "This is between Darien and me only. I already told you I have a reason I don't want you to know any of this stuff, why can't you accept that?"

"We do, sweetie." Kenji's encouraging smile lasted for only a few seconds, falling off his face by his wife's next words.

"I don't—no, I can't—accept that. Anything you say in front of him, you should be able to say in front of us. If it's Senshi-related business, fine; I can respect that. Go off and find Rei and ask her."

"Over my dead body," Darien hissed, a dark look flittering through his eyes as they flashed gold for the briefest of seconds. It was all Endymion had not to snap out his own words also. Instead both he and his reincarnation winced as Serena laughed; it was a bitter sound, very bitter.

"Rei? Rei? You don't want me to spend time with Darien but you want to go to Rei and rely on her for help? Ha! That'll be the day. She hates me, Mom. Just like Luna. And just like Minako probably will too, if she doesn't already. Darien is the only one I can rely on anymore for the kind of help I need."

Ikuko frowned. "Just because you and the Senshi got into a little disagreement and it was decided you should take a break from being a Senshi, doesn't mean—"

"Decided to take a break? I already told you, I was forced to stop being Sailor Moon." The snap of Serena's voice matched the snap of her emotions as they finally got the best of her. Everything she'd gone through the past month—no, the past year; all her fears and insecurities on who she'd been back in the Silver Millennium. . . . "There wasn't any kind of unanimous decision that involved me, and in no way was it little. Do you call me ending up in the hospital little? How about that poison or whatever I have inside my blood, is that a little thing? Or the fact I was kidnapped and handcuffed to Minako's bed for a week? But what would you know about any of that?" she asked bitterly. "You thought I was in Kyoto the entire time! So nice of you to allow me to visit the aunt you hate and swore never to talk to, hmm? And I was just so sick, that I had to stay with them without you even talking to me. Isn't that right? Did you really think any of that was real? Luna can influence your mind, did you know that? How do you think Shingo got over his fear of cats enough to let her stay in the house? She made all of you accept her! And she's probably making you hate Darien too because it would make so much sense . . ."

Both Kenji and Ikuko paled, unable to believe the words sprouting out of their daughter's mouth. The—the Senshi couldn't possibly have . . . Serena had been caught the illness their family had had; they knew it and Shingo was growing out of his fear of cats . . .

"Serena, that's enough," Darien ordered as he turned around to face her completely.

"No it isn't!" she snapped as he took a hold of her shoulders and tried to block her parents from her. She looked up at him, silver fire in her eyes. "I refuse to allow my mother to even try to ruin our relationship once again! I refuse!" Serenity hissed furiously. She began shoving at his chest, her eyes constantly flickering back and forth between her natural blue and the unearthly silver. "Unhand me at once! She's so desperate to know what you can do, then she deserves to know!" She peered around him as he tried to wrestle her further into his embrace, her eyes blazing a metallic blue. "Huh, Mother? You want to know what Darien can do that the rest of you can't? He's the only one who can keep me alive. You can't do that! The Senshi can't either because, with the exception of Mercury, they're the ones that want me dead!"

"No . . ."

"It can't be . . ."

Her eyes blazed at her parents' horrified whispers, even as they barely registered in her mind. "Is that what you wanted to know? Huh? I tried to keep it away from you! I told you I had a reason I didn't want to tell you anything! You were the one that kept pushing me into telling you, so this is your fault!"

"You will stop this foolishness!"

Serena's brain rattled as Darien shook her shoulders. As the silver completely dispersed out of her eyes and the enraged haze abandoned her mind, she felt horror began to sit in. She paled as her eyes darted from one horrified parent to the other, and back again. "No," she whispered. "Please tell me I didn't . . ." Her eyes flashed up to Darien desperately, frantically hoping she hadn't been that careless, that stupid but . . . it wasn't Darien that she saw.

It was the golden-eyed man.

And he was furious.

---

"For Terra's sake!" Zoisite snapped as he slapped Jadeite over the head. "Scare me to death, will you? You said the doctor saw Darien's whole body glowing gold!" He menacingly shook the manila folder he was holding. "This only has a half-crossed out notation of golden sparks on his arms!"

"Serena can die. Serena can die," Motoki repeated anxiously as he ran a hand through his hair, his pace never wavering front of the couch in Zoisite's hotel suite. "It's normal to be this freaked out, right? It seems pretty normal but—" He swallowed his words. "Is has to be normal. I mean, she was my cousin. . . ."

Neither general paid the former-prince any mind as they knelt beside the coffee table, all the files now open and their contents spread about before them. "I was going for the dramatic, Zoi," Jadeite grumbled as he rubbed his abused head. "And that's still not a good thing!" He shoved the folder out of his face. "Golden sparks? Hel-lo, Darien's healing power! No one should have seen that in this lifetime! Ever!"

Zoisite instantly deflated. "Yeah. You're right." He leaned against the bottom of the couch at his back, frowning in thought. "When we were younger, Endymion's power would automatically manifest to heal him. Anything from a dog bite, to if he accidentally cut himself with a sword, to any ailment like . . . like chicken pox. He was young, and thus still growing into his skin, and his powers didn't want anything to happen to him before he was matured and his own immune system able to handle itself. It stopped doing that so readily around the time he was eight or so. Apparently the same thing happened this time around. The powers automatically manifested to protect him."

Jadeite nodded. "Makes sense to me. Since he still has powers and everything." He looked back up at Zoisite in confusion. "But why—"

"Right?" Motoki practically snarled as his head darted from Jadeite to Zoisite desperately, his face an ashen grey. "I'm freaking out about Serena dying over here but the two of you are acting so much calmer than I am! You're talking about Endymion for crying out loud!"

"Speaking of dramatic," Jadeite muttered before raising an amused eyebrow as he watched the man's endless pacing. "Trust me, Cadeyrn, your freaking out is probably the only normal thing about you."

The Solarian instantly heaved a sigh as he threw himself down onto the couch. After mere seconds however, he suddenly growled and half-sat up, reaching behind him to pull something out. The response from the other men was immediate.

"W-whoa!" Jadeite jumped to his feet, wide-eyed, and waved his hands in a warding position frantically. "I was joking! A joke! That's it!"

Zoisite finally shook himself of his stupor and got up, backing toward his fellow general slowly. "Honestly, Cadeyrn, Jed's a moron but that's no reason to shoot him."

"What . . .?" Motoki blinked in surprise before looking down to the gun he was limply holding his hand. He instantly rolled his eyes. "Please." He shook the gun slightly, making both generals recoil. "The only one in danger of this thing is me, probably."

"Because you'll shoot yourself in the foot?" Jadeite asked with a strangled laugh, his shoulders slumping in relief as he sat back down on the ground.

Motoki rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, why don't we go with that?" he supplied dryly before grimacing as he looked down at the black weapon. "By Sol, do I hate this thing. It's always digging into my back no matter what I do and it makes me so . . . so . . . twitchy. Yeah, twitchy."

Zoisite carefully seated himself on the furthest side of the coffee table, his eyes trained on the gun warily. "And why do you have that, again?"

Motoki's lips curled up in disgusted sneer. "Commander. Direct order, he said. Need to carry a gun with me at all times. Right after I told him Áine was in Tokyo. So, basically, he wants me all but ready to shoot my sister at a moment's notice. But that doesn't bother me, does it?" He growled, throwing the gun down onto the couch and standing back up. "Just like I'm not bothered that my cousin is going to die!" he spat, his pacing beginning anew. "For Sol's sake!"

Jadeite squinted at the gun. "You have a license to carry that thing? In Japan, I mean?"

"Yes." Motoki whirled around. "Do you have a license to tell people their cousin is going to die?"

"No. . . ." Jadeite sighed and shook his head almost immediately. "Hold yourself together, will you? We have Serena's transformation broach. Remember?"

Motoki's wide eyes and deflating shoulders said he hadn't.

Jadeite snorted. "Yeah. Exactly. No matter how bad it sounds, Serenity's possible death is the last thing on the 'Oh, Shit!' list right now. The poison can't do anymore than it has without another transformation which we hold the key to. She's . . . relatively safe. In retrospect."

"He's right," Zoisite added as he grabbed Darien's medical file off the table. "We need to be calm and rational so we can figure out what to do before everything implodes on us. We're starting with Dr. Rupert. If he knows about Darien's powers, then he could have suspected Serena, which could lead to complete Senshi exposure if he connected her to Sailor Moon. That's the biggest threat. Ami's possible death is the most immediate but, if the doctor knows everything, that affects more than just her life. It affects the Senshi, their families, Endymion, which in turn affects us and HQ and everyone who's gone to school there. Then it's Rei's possible clone status because if she is a clone that means she's working for"—his lips curved into a sneer—"at least Beryl. Then we worry about Serenity's possible death. Understood?"

"Yeah." Jadeite turned his attention to Cadeyrn pointedly. "Dr. Rupert. We need help finding out what he might know, so start talking. What do you know about him? Did you ever met him while you were visiting Serena? Or maybe any time before that?"

Motoki's eyes flickered between the generals before he reseated himself on the couch, reasonably calm again. They were starting to form a plan—he could follow a plan. "No, I never met him. But I seen him once. Older, grey-haired, white lab coat, a gaggle of nurses following him. Pretty normal sight. But,"—he frowned down at the medical file in Zoisite's hands—"there's something about him. He isn't like our good ol' Dr. Aidan. He felt almost . . . cold. Standoffish, definitely. When I saw him, I was with Serena's doctor—a man named Vigil—and he said he hated working with Rupert because he made you feel like an insignificant speck on his glasses."

Zoisite's eyes narrowed. "Anything else?"

Motoki shrugged. "With a surname like Rupert I'd guess he was American or English-descended. Other than that, no."

Jadeite frowned. "Vigil . . . Vigil . . . why does that name sound familiar?"

"He'd been Darien's doctor once upon a time, too," Motoki supplied.

Zoisite nodded as he flipped Darien's file open. "I seen that. He's a doctor specializing . . . in . . . trauma . . ." He stopped, his eyes focused on the paperwork unseeingly as he thought back to just a few days ago.

"He's been an orphan since his parents were killed in an automobile accident when he was a child. To make that even worse, he has amnesia from the time he woke up after the accident downwards. He told me that he'd been sent from hospital to hospital for months."

"That's right, the car accident." He looked at Cadeyrn. "You told us about it while you were informing us what happened when Serena was admitted to the hospital. Commander mentioned it before, too. Darien's parents ultimately died, he became amnesic, and then he proceeded to grow up in an orphanage."

"It'd been more than one," Motoki murmured, suddenly finding his shoes the most interesting things in the room. He'd promised Darien he'd never breath a word of his past to anyone, yet here he was discussing it with men that looked just like Dark Kingdom generals again. He couldn't imagine what Darien would do if he found out that that little fact. . . .

Jadeite stayed silent, mulling over what'd he'd glossed from Darien's medical file. Total amnesia. It was so hard to believe the hardships Endymion's reincarnation had to go through. It seemed he couldn't be completely happy in any lifetime. Last time, it had been his wife that had been threatened to be taken away, this time his parents actually had. If he didn't already know better, he would think that both events were caused by the same person. . . .

"Says here he was first admitted just over a decade ago," Zoisite remarked. "Some notations about a broken wrist. He'd been in a coma for two weeks after he'd been admitted. Both Drs. Vigil and Rupert had been assigned to him right from the start. He'd been sent to other hospitals in the area, however. Specialists." He squinted. "And there's something here about a head injury. Severe. Believes it attributed to his total . . . amnesia . . ." His brow furrowed. "Total amnesia. That's why Commander said 'he knows his name is Darien.' It was probably the only thing he knew." He looked up from the medical file hesitantly, half-afraid of what else he might find if he looked longer. "Could Rupert have taken advantage of that? Of Darien not remembering anything?"

"I don't see a real reason to," Jadeite offered before he reached over to yank the file out of his friend's hands. "There has to be something else . . .," he insisted as he quickly began thumbing through it. He stopped after a few moments, tilting his head. "Okay. We have a half-crossed out notation made by Dr. Rupert that mentions a few gold sparks on Darien's arms during a test and Serena's file has a notation of the same doctor being very enthusiastic about finding what was ailing her bloodstream and healing her . . ."

"Which isn't saying that he insisted he be the one to do so," Zoisite pointed out as he leaned against the couch again, closing his eyes in thought.

"I read between the lines dramatically," Jadeite muttered, throwing the man a glare, before he cleared his throat. "If you ask me, I think that as soon as Rupert saw Serena and Darien were friends and that there was something unknown in her blood, he had one of those 'ah ha!' moments."

"Because he might have figured that was what caused Darien's sparks. Something in his blood," Motoki interjected. "But, would he really be that interested in Darien after more than twelve years?"

His companions looked at him deadpanned. "Gold sparks," Zoisite enounced slowly. "Does that sound like the kind of thing you'd just let go? I'm not saying he dwelled on it every second of every day but it had to have been in the back of his mind stewing occasionally. It's like . . . like . . ."

"Like an unfinished puzzle. Or riddle. Even that crossword clue you just can't get," Jadeite said thoughtfully. "You don't always have to think about it but you're still kind of bothered by the fact it's unsolved and, when you hit a breakthrough, you're kind of itchy to see if you can finish it."

Zoisite nodded. "Serena was Rupert's possible breakthrough. You said it yourself that day, Cadeyrn. He made a notation in her file about how she showed similarities to another patient and that they were friends. You know his mental-wheels were turning."

"O . . . kay. Valid points," Motoki muttered, rolling his eyes as the generals smirked. "So chances are that Dr. Rupert went over all of Serena's test results with a fine-toothed comb. Maybe even dragged up Darien's file just in case if he'd thought he'd missed something." He leaned forward to grab Serena's file off the table and held it up pointedly. "But all her tests were negative, inconclusive, etcetera. They just knew there was something wrong with her blood. Not what, or how, just was. After a week, she was released at her parents' insistence when no solid answers appeared."

"But Rupert told them that she might have a poison killing her inside before she left," Jadeite reminded. "Sounds to me like he was trying to get everyone worried enough to stay at the hospital longer."

Motoki frowned as he opened Serena's folder and skimmed through it. "You're right. A notation by Ami's mother says that Rupert did not approve of the discharge. That there were still more testing they could try. But he was outnumbered by both she and Vigil, and her parents."

Zoisite frowned as he looked at Jadeite. "Find anything else in Darien's file?"

"No." He shifted through the paperwork absently. "I was kind of hoping for something juicy. You know, missing pages. More crossed out, or blacked out, notations about Endymion's powers. Honestly, after that one half-crossed out note, I expected Rupert to have hid things because he was ridiculed for thinking he saw golden sparks but it looks like that was it. After that note he never brought it up, at least in here." He shook his head and closed the file, preparing to toss it back onto the table, before his eyes zoomed in on a piece of paper sticking out slightly. It was folded in half, crinkled and worn a bit. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he muttered as he plucked it out and dropped the rest of the file onto the table. When he opened the paper, he felt his eyes narrowing suspiciously. It was covered in scribbles and crossed out words, phrases and— "He's fuckin' crazy," he uttered in surprise, holding the paper away from him.

"What?" Zoisite asked instantly. "What is it?"

Jadeite shook his head but his eyes remained fixed on the paper. "There's a diagram on here. With a mountain and all kinds of trajectories. Then there's a car and a"—he squinted—"person? Yeah. A person." He turned the paper so they could see what he was talking about. "See? All kinds of angles pointing out from them. But the thing that worries me is—"

"The big, bold, underlined, obviously-traced-hundreds-of-times 'IMPOSSIBLE'?" Motoki asked disbelievingly. His eyes traced over the mathematical equations along the mountain in shock. "And this was in Darien's file?"

"I think I found my something juicy," Jadeite muttered as his eyes zoned onto the ripped edge of the backside of the paper. He could just make out '—pert' on the sprawled, cutoff signature. It was definitely the same handwriting he had seen in Darien's file. Doctor Rupert.

Zoisite paled suddenly as a suspicion hit him. "Cadeyrn . . . Motoki, how did the car accident happen?"

The former-prince gained a wide-eyed, horror-filled stare as realization dawned on him. "A drunk driver on the wrong side of the road. Darien's father swerved and they went through a guardrail and down the side of the mountain. It took the rescuers three days to get down. His parents were dead, he was found ejected from the car. Unconscious, but alive."

"With only a few bumps, a broken wrist, and amnesia," Jadeite whispered. "That was Rupert's first sign that something was wrong with that picture. Darien should have died. Undoubtedly. The only thing that could have possibly saved him would have been his . . ."

"Power. His golden colored power." Zoisite groaned and dug his palms into his eyes. "This just keeps getting worse."

---

Serena swallowed as she gazed up at the golden-eyed man. It wasn't that she was afraid of him, per se, it was more of the fact he was . . . intimidating. His strange-colored eyes were fixed on her in a narrowed-eyed stare, not quite a glare but close enough to make her want to wince. The hands clenching her shoulders were as firm as gentle could get but, as she felt the power humming around him, she knew that if he wanted to he could probably snap her like a twig. She could even see a muscle twitching in his jaw, no doubt caused by how hard his teeth were clenched together. She knew he was angry—really angry—yet she couldn't find it in her to be afraid of him because he seemed so much like . . .

"Darien," she whispered, searching his eyes. Everything around them, from what had just happened to her parents horrified faces, was all but forgotten as she looked at him. She just knew she had to know if it was really him, in some form, behind those gold eyes. "Are you Darien's incarnation?"

The hands clenching her shoulders loosened automatically and a strange smile lit up his face. It was almost like he was amused by the question; definitely not mad anymore. 'Another point in favor of it being true,' she thought wryly. 'I have a feeling Darien would have been amused by that too. Out of all the things to say. Not, "Ow! Why'd you have to shake me so hard!" or . . . or, "RUN! I just blew about every secret I've been keeping from my parents!" or, "You idiot, how could you have let me—" '

"You hold no fear of me."

She stopped her mental musings, staring at him with wide eyes. "N-no." She swallowed again. "You remind me of my friend Darien. You . . . you feel like him," she whispered. "And, if I hadn't of been so shocked from my first youma battle the day before, I probably would have been sort of intimidated by him too when we got into that argument. I guess I deserved it, though, for throwing that test at his forehead. Even though it was an accident. And he completely made a big deal out of it and teased me."

He quirked an eyebrow at her rambling, only for her to instantly stop and zone in on the action. It was such a familiar gesture that she couldn't help but laugh. "You are Darien, aren't you? That was so like him that it was almost creepy."

He nodded. "Correct. I am your Darien."

Involuntarily, she blushed at the way he phrased it. It was probably just the way they spoke in the Silver Millennium but still. "He—he isn't m-my Darien. He's . . . Darien."

He quirked his eyebrow again. "Indeed."

She giggled, what little intimidation she had of him vanishing completely. "I guess it explains why I feel so safe with you. I mean, you're basically him. You're not going to hurt me. Ever. I know it."

He nodded again, the action almost grim this time. "You speak true. No harm shall come to pass from me to you. I shall protect you as always."

She squinted. "You really do talk funny." She blinked. "Wait. Protect me? So that is what you're doing? We weren't positive, but it had seemed like you were. . . ."

"You were afraid of me." He said it evenly but to her it sounded like an accusation. Like Darien's accusation that she had been afraid of him that night they had fought in the hospital when she was discharged. She winced in memory. "When I appeared all the times before."

"W-well," she stuttered, "you were always upset before. And that . . . startled me. Because I thought something was happening to Darien. Something bad."

He closed his eyes, bowing his head, and she bit her lip to stifle another giggle. There was something so cute about him right now; like he was a big teddy bear you were just dying to hug. "I apologize. I am simply angered by what has transpired with your Guar—Senshi," he amended swiftly, remembering the new, foreign word, "lately. They are fools."

She frowned and, despite everything that had been happening recently, found herself coming to their defense. "No they're not. They're just doing what they think is right. They're worried. You can't really blame them because no one knows who I was. I could really have been a Dark Kingdom General's wi—"

"Stop that!"

It was only out of sheer surprise at being addressed in such a fierce demand after they'd been so calm that she took a step back but, to the forgotten occupants of the room, it was out of fear. All the Tsukino parents knew was that the duo had started talking to each other, Serena even laughing, and then Darien had suddenly yelled at her again and she'd stepped away . . .

"Serena!" Kenji exclaimed, his mind whirling with thoughts. Had he been wrong? Was Darien not Tuxedo Mask, but something worse? Something dangerous?

"Get away from her!" Ikuko ordered, terrified eyes fixed on her daughter. "You're scaring her!" She gasped, taking her own step back as Darien looked over his shoulder and fixed his gold eyes on her.

"Do not test my patience, madam," Endymion uttered darkly. "I had no compassion for her mother before. It shall not trouble my mind to lack any this time as well."

Ikuko took a rattling breath as her heart pounded frantically in her chest at her sudden revelation. It had been him that night. The man that had hid in Serena's ICU room at the hospital before jumping out of the window. It hadn't of been Darien, it'd been the man standing in her dining room now. The same man who was yelling at her daughter and scaring her. The man who unexplainably had unnatural eyes but, if he wasn't Darien—not completely—who was he? And, more importantly, what was he going to do?

Serena squeaked as the golden-eyed man suddenly looked back at her, all luster coming back into his eyes and making them shine down on her like little suns. "You will listen to me. Understood?"

"Yes," she squeaked again. Darien had never been this demanding before. Not unless you counted the times she'd seen his eyes flash gold—or thought she had. What was it about the golden-eyed man that made him so . . . so intense?

The hands gripping her shoulders loosened, yet his eyes remained on her steadily. "Those Senshi," he spat, "deserve no words of kindness. Not after the betrayals they have dealt you. Corruption runs rampant in those women so thick that they cannot see the strings on which they are being manipulated. You are allowing that to happen to yourself as well. You must gather yourself back together. These people here are not your enemy; they have done nothing to merit your hate, only your love." Her eyes widened. Was he actually defending her mother? "You cannot allow those women to destroy your true self because that is what she wants. That is how she will break down your defenses and then take what is yours."

She gasped. "You knew who I was?" she asked breathlessly, only for her eyes to widen even further as he nodded. "W-who? Who was I in the Silver Millennium? Please, I need to know."

Instantly his expression did a one-eighty and turned soft, gentle, and he reached out to run his forefinger down the length of her cheek. Her eyes widening comically and she held her breath, fearing that if she moved even a centimeter he wouldn't tell her. "You were—" Before he could finish, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he was crumbling forward into her arms.

"Darien!" she screamed in horror as she caught him, his much larger body driving her down to her knees helplessly. She looked around hysterically only to catch sight of her mother holding a thick encyclopedia between her hands over the two of them, still frozen in a striking position. "M-MOM!" she cried, her eyes flooding with tears as they snapped between victim and assailant. "You killed him. You killed Darien!" she wailed as she wrapped her arms around him. "How could you?"

The book slipped out of Ikuko's fingers numbly to land on the floor with a loud crack. "I . . . I . . .," she stuttered, her eyes wide and her face pale as she stared at the body of the man she had just, apparently, killed. "I . . . didn't . . . mean to," she whispered as she brought a shaking hand up to her lips. She looked at her husband, flinching at the wide-eyed shock on his face. "I didn't mean to," she repeated helplessly.

Serena stared at Darien, the blood draining from her face as quickly as tears filled her eyes while scenes of gold swords and bloody wounds invaded her mind.

. . . a shadowed, feminine figure appeared leisurely behind the man amongst the surrounding chaos. He noticed the figure almost instantly, snarling out something that made him receive a small smirk in reply. The smirk only widened as the woman calmly reached out and grasped the bloody sword, pulling it out of its foreign host almost violently . . .

. . . She watched as his head snapped over to her, blue eyes filled with horror at her presence, before they dimmed slightly as that same golden sword was plunged through his right shoulder blade mercilessly . . .

"Ser . . . Serena . . .," Ikuko said slowly, "I would never k-kill him. . . ."

The words shattered the nightmarish visions and Serena sent her mother a disbelieving look. "I would hope not! I hope you purposely didn't hit him either because he has a preexisting condition! He had total amnesia after his parents died! We don't know what a blow to the head will do to him! Especially with an encyclopedia, of all things! A shoe is one thing but . . . but . . . ." She bit her lip, tasting blood, as she remembered she'd made him hit his head on her floor twice this morning by pushing him down. "Oh, no . . .,"she whimpered. "No, no, no. . . ."

Kenji's head snapped over to the girl with a horrified gasp before he let his eyes wander around the room frantically for the cordless telephone. Before he knew it'd been Serena's dramatics that Darien was dead but now it was quickly escalating into a real emergency. They needed to call an ambulance—fast.

Ikuko slapped a hand over her mouth. "Sweetie, oh, sweetie, I didn't know . . . ."

"O-obviously." Serena swallowed thickly, pushing back her tears, and gathered herself together enough to try to turn Darien's unyielding body over so she could see his face. "But it doesn't change the facts!" she continued, panting lightly. He was heavy! "He could forget everything now! Including m-me." She choked as she caught sight of his pale face. She felt around his neck frantically, desperately trying to remember the crash course in medical attention Ami gave her when Sailor Mercury joined the Senshi, only to sigh in relief as she successfully felt his pulse. It seemed normal; neither too fast nor too slow. "Darien, gold-eye guy," she whispered as she tapped his left cheek as firmly as she dared, growing more anxious as the seconds ticked by with no response. "Either of you, I don't care who, just please wake up. Please, please be okay."

Behind them, Kenji lunged into the living room. With erratic, gasping breaths he hurriedly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they began to slid down. "H-hold on! I think—upstairs!"

Ikuko, in the meantime, was carefully edging toward the duo on the floor. "Serena, believe me, I—I would never have but . . ." She faltered, frowning. "But he was scaring you. I had to do something . . ."

"He wasn't scaring me!" Serena sent her mother a quick, watery glare. "We were talking and he just got a little . . . intense." 'Yeah, definitely intense. And he really doesn't like the Senshi . . .' She mentally grimaced, suddenly adding, "And he was defending you!"

"De . . . fending . . . me . . .?" Ikuko gaped.

Serena scowled. "Yeah. Nice irony there, right, Mom? He was defending you and you knocked him unconscious." She sighed and shook her head, ignoring her mother's stricken face with only a distant twinge of guilt as she turned back to the man in her embrace. "Wake up," she pleaded, only to bit her lip harder as he remained silent and still. Where were those darn healing sparks of his? Did they even work while he was unconscious? "I know you can do it. I've chugged t-too"—her breath hitch with the effort not to break down into tears again—"too many things at your head before for you to be really hurt now. Besides, you . . . you like books, right? You can't let one of them knock you down like this. It's embarrassing." She laughed watery, running a finger down his cheek in a mirror of what the golden-eyed man had done to her. "You don't want me to tease you about a tiny, weenie book knocking you unconscious, do you?"

"Serena," Ikuko began softly, only to stop. She wasn't sure if it was worth trying to explain herself. No, she hadn't reacted in the smartest way, and she certainly hadn't meant to actually hurt Darien but, would it even matter to Serena? She'd crossed the line with the two of them, and awhile ago too. Her eyes fell to Darien, studying him. She wasn't sure what to think. He'd just gone . . . gone gold-eyed on them, for goodness sakes! And he'd snapped at her, but Serena had said he'd been defending her and—"Sparks," she squeaked suddenly, wide-eyed as a golden spray of sparks began leaping off Darien's head where it was being cushioned on her daughter's legs. "S-Serena!" she said frantically as horrible possibilities flashed through her mind. Gold sparks! She knew it had to do something with his gold eyes! "G-get away from him!"

Serena ignored her mother as she watched the sparks flow over her knees like a mini-waterfall before they disappeared once they made contact with the carpet. She gasped abruptly, leaning toward Darien as a groan issued from somewhere deep in his chest. "Dar . . . ien?" She held her breath hopefully as his eyelashes began fluttering open, only to swallow thickly as they fell back shut without ever fully opening. Was that a glint of blue she had seen—or were his eyes still gold? What would the gold-eye guy even do if he was the one that woke up? 'If anyone woke up', her mind supplied miserably.

"Serena!" In the background, Ikuko's cry went unheard yet again. "I said get away from him!"

"If . . . if you just open your eyes," Serena whispered to Darien desperately, "I promise you can call me Odango all you want. Or . . . or whatever else you want to, even." She bowed her head, letting her red-rimmed eyes hide behind her blonde bangs even as they remained fixed on the sparks she could see leaping up from the back of his head. "Please wake up and remember me. I can't do this without you. You have to open your eyes and tell me your okay. Please."

---

Motoki yawned as he watched Zoisite and Jadeite pace around the room, blinking bleary eyes. Didn't they know how boring that was? The monotony of going to the window and back to the coffee table, to the window and back to the coffee table . . . Zoisite's quick, yet quiet footsteps versus Jadeite's angry, almost violent stomps . . .

"Okay!"

He started at Jadeite's sudden shout only half as much as the way he reacted to the man's slap against the top of the recliner—that one caused him to jump a foot off the couch, at least. A surly glance told him that Zoisite didn't even flinch as he also turned to Jadeite. Was there anything that cracked him? He didn't even seem all that too worried Ami was dying—she was last on the list, despite being in the most danger! How heartless was that? 'Or is that the secret of the success of Endymion's generals?' he wondered suddenly. 'That not even personal affairs matter when it concerns their King and his Queen? But, are they really so utterly devoted to their master . . .?' Seconds later, another yawn brushed away his thoughts and he felt his eyelids began to slid down heavily. Two hours of sleep just wasn't enough for anyone in the world, especially not to think those kinds of thoughts . . .

"Okay what, Jed?" Zoisite stressed when the man said nothing else.

Jadeite looked up, blinking as if he'd forgotten he wasn't alone. He shook his head quickly. "Okay! So Darien has golden healing powers and so what that they almost automatically manifest whenever . . .he's . . . injured . . ." He stopped, his lips twisting oddly. "That didn't even start reassuring, did it?"

"No," Zoisite said dryly. "Especially considering he'd been at a hospital injured." He sighed. "Let's face it. Rupert had to have seen the power more than once. And it was on his mind readily, either before or after Serena was admitted."

"Which is just bad." Both men cast dark, matching glares to Motoki for his oh-so-helpful comment but they went unseen under the Solarian's closed eyelids.

After a moment of staring at Cadeyrn grumpily, Jadeite shook his head and turned to his best friend. "What are we going to do about this, then?"

Zoisite frowned. The look on Jadeite's face told him exactly what he thought they should do. "Forget it. We're not calling him."

"Why not?" Jadeite demanded, only to receive an exasperated look in response. "You're still angry?"

"And why shouldn't I be?" Zoisite snapped. "He's a lying, conniving . . ."

Jadeite sighed. He'd just opened Pandora's box, hadn't he? "Zoi."

". . . deceitful excuse of a man who hid the fact he knew where Endymion's reincarnation was for five years. Never mind that he all but confirmed that he knew Darien and his parents before their accident. He didn't even tell us a single thing when he thought Darien was dead! You have another thing coming if you think he's going to be able to help us. It's his fault all of this is happening!"

"Only in a roundabout kind of way . . ."

"We're not going to ring Commander!" Zoisite declared as he crossed his arms. "That it. End of story."

"'End of story'?" Jadeite sputtered disbelievingly. "You're not my boss—I don't need you to agree with me! You're barely my equal, as a matter of fact!"

"Yeah, because I'm better than you!"

"Better?"

Motoki groaned, peeking one green eye open. Couldn't they just let him sleep in peace? Seconds later, as he absorbed the complaint, the other eye popped open. "What? You mean Commander knew where Darien was? Even before I told him about Tuxedo Mask?" He scowled as they both nodded. "Why am I always missing something?" he groused disbelievingly.

"Because we didn't feel the need to tell you. Not when it's between Commander and Endymion's generals," Zoisite answered, even as his eyes remained fixed on Jadeite. "We're not calling him, Jed."

The man snorted. "Now who isn't being rational?"

"What are you talking about? I was the one who suggested we need to be rational about this!"

"You know just as well as I do that he needs to be caught up on everything!" Jadeite's voice became louder with each word until he was talking over Zoisite. "He needs to be here. If nothing else, to make sure another one of his lies isn't going to come crashing down on all of our heads! You can't disagree with that logic; I know a part of you is thinking the exact same thing! You said you understood him, why can't you forgive him already? I have!"

"Because he—" Zoisite clamped his jaw shut, staring at Jadeite darkly. "If you were smart," he said after a moment, "you would know why I can't."

Jadeite narrowed his eyes, blue pupils becoming cold. "Then call me a moron. You do enough as it is."

The forgotten-Motoki flicked his eyes between the generals as they stared at one another. For so-called "best friends" they sure fought a lot.

Zoisite was the one that looked away first, moving to an armchair opposite the couch. "Well?" he snapped once he was seated. "Are you ringing him or not?" He took a moment, glancing at the digital watch on his wrist, before leaning back calmly—with a new sparkle in his eyes that Motoki didn't understand.

"Don't expect me to say a single word to him," Zoisite added as an afterthought. "If you're so desperate to talk to him, then do it on your own."

Jadeite opened his mouth only to stop, shaking his head. "Forget it. You're not worth talking to when you're like this. Being a bébé (A/N: "baby" in French)," he mocked as he moved to the telephone and began dialing, pointedly putting the call on speaker. Zoi might not want to talk to Commander but he sure would have to listen to him.

Zoisite rolled his eyes, grumbling something in French himself.

"I heard that!" Jadeite snapped as he whirled around. "And I understood most of it, too! I am not a—"

"Hello, Dr. Aidan Morris speaking. How may I help you?"

In surprise, the pillow Jadeite had grabbed slipped out of his hands, falling back onto the couch innocently. "Dr. Aidan?" Forgetting his anger, he threw Zoisite a bewildered glance—the man shrugged. "What are you doing answering Commander's private line?" he asked into the phone carefully.

Halfway around the world, the doctor frowned as he glanced around the room he was in. Dark oak paneling on the walls, view overlooking the school's grounds, paintings and a kind of organized mess everywhere—huh, he was still in Commander's office. Funny how time blended together so fast; he could have sworn he was in his own office. Asleep would have been even nicer, though . . . "May I ask who this is?" There was a pause, then a grumble of, "And why you're calling me at two in the morning?"

Jadeite instantly grimaced. "Oh, sorry. Forgot about the time difference." He turned to Zoisite with a wince but the man was unsympathetic, his grinning eyes practically screaming 'I told you so!'.

Motoki shook his head, realizing the spark in Zoisite's eyes was because he had thought about the time difference. Devious, that man was.

"I—uh, could ring again later?" Jadeite offered hesitantly.

"No, no. It's fine. Awake as it is. . . . Again, who is this?"

"Jadeite." When Aidan made a noise of confusion, Jadeite frowned. "Jamison. Jamison Lynton?"

"Um . . ."

He sighed, pointedly ignoring the smirk he knew Zoisite was giving him. "I graduated a few years ago . . . my parents do a lecture every winter . . ." He stifled a groan and hung his head when Aidan still didn't make a sound. "Code Jade?"

". . .Oh. Oh, Jamison! How could I have forgotten our resident chemist? That poor science room." The man chuckled as he swept a hand through his shock of orange hair. "Sorry. It's been a little hectic around here lately. Not enough sleep. I remember now. You were the one that broke Donovan's nose a few years back, too, right?"

Jadeite's face instantly blossomed into an angry red and Zoisite began laughing in that same instant—deep and loud. "I suppose there was a good part about ringing home," he mused with a few more chuckles.

"You remembered D…. D… him but not me?" Jadeite shouted. "What's so memorable about him?"

Aidan winced, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment. Maybe Jamison should have called back later. "Well," he said into the phone slowly, "we talk occasionally. He's just over in Security—"

"WHAT?"

"Donovan?" Motoki blinked, the image of only a vaguely familiar man with an odd minty-blue and white head of hair coming to mind. He was a few years older than himself, if he wasn't mistaken . . . "You don't mean Donovan Gibson, do you?"

"Don't say his name!" Jadeite spun around, waving his arms in a borderline frantic way. "It's like a curse! It'll bring a plague down on us all!"

"Now who's being a bébé, Jed?" Zoisite smirked at the dark, menacing scowl his friend threw him. Payback hurt, didn't it? Especially when it involved Donovan Gibson and the two men's rivalry. And, if Donovan had a job in Security now. . . .

Aidan blinked abruptly and sat up a little straighter in Commander's chair. "Motoki? Motoki Furuhata, is that you?"

"You remember Motoki just by the sound of his voice?" Jadeite complained as he fell onto the couch beside Cadeyrn. "And that . . . that thing has a job in my department? Zoi was right; this does keep getting worse!"

"Well, why shouldn't I remember Motoki? He—ooh, I shouldn't . . . ."

Motoki smiled at the fumbled response. At least there was another person who remembered him. "It's okay, Dr. Aidan. I remember who I am now. Prince Cadeyrn of Sol."

"Then of course I remember him. I was Solarian, he was part of the royal family . . . if you don't mind me asking, Your Highness," the doctor began after a silent moment, unknowingly making Motoki grin. He hadn't been called 'Your Highness' seriously in this lifetime—it felt good. "but when are you planning to visit? Just the other day, your mother was telling me all about how she misses her little baby boy."

Motoki's grin fell as Jadeite and Zoisite instantly snorted in laughter. "Thanks a lot, doc," he said, sighing.

Jadeite had to chuckle at the blush on Cadeyrn's face. "Aw. Isn't that cute?"

Zoisite rolled his eyes at Jadeite's teasing, though a grin tugged at his lips as he stood and walked over to the phone base. "Dr. Aidan, it's Zoisite. Do you remember me?"

"Yes, of course. You're—"

"You remember," Zoisite said quickly, shifting uncomfortably.

Beside him, Jadeite's grin faded knowingly. Maybe he was a moron; he had a suspicion he knew why Zoi couldn't forgive Commander now. . . .

"May I ask why you're answering Commander's private line?" Zoisite paused, frowning suddenly. "Or did Jed dial the wrong number by accident . . .?"

"Oh, no. He was right. I'm in Commander's office right now. He left me in charge."

All the men perked up at the news. "You mean he isn't there?" Zoisite scowled as the doctor made a sound of affirmation. "Then where is he? This is an emergency."

"Another emergency?" Aidan grumbled. "Why must everyone have an emergency when the man goes bloody missing?"

"M-missing?" Motoki's sputtering yelp went unheard by the two generals. Jadeite glanced at Zoisite sharply, only to see the man had paled rapidly.

"Father's . . . missing?"

---

"Vater . . ." The whisper was in German, seemingly blanketing the room. "What should I do?"

Laid out of her bed, arms under her head, and a frown on her face, Ami stared at the mural her father had painted for her. The laughing faces of her parents and herself, the water fountain, the perfect winter day—none of it ever changed up there on her ceiling.

But life did.

It'd been almost eight months since she had last been in Munich, back in that park her father had so painstakingly created for her here thousands of miles and a continent away. Eight months since she had left her home country to come to her mother's . . .

She'd been only three-years old the last time she'd lived in Japan; that hadn't nearly been enough time to develop much devotion to the country besides pride of her heritage. Her mother had, though; born and raised in Tokyo, Mizuno Saeko had only ever lived outside the country a few years before her daughter was born, returned to Japan and left again when her daughter was a toddler, before coming back this past year, relocating to the same ward she had always lived in while in Japan.

Mizuno Saeko was the kind of person that was content to live in one place, do the same thing everyday, for the rest of her life; Ami wasn't sure if she herself would be. She'd always thought it was a trait she'd inherited from her father—that hunger to go out and see the world—but, lately, she wasn't so sure.

She wasn't sure about much anymore, if she was perfectly honest with herself.

"Nichts," she whispered. Nothing.

She found herself doing that sometimes—talking in German to herself, that is. She was always afraid one day she'd forget what she considered her native language. Find it slipping away one word, one phrase at a time . . . then, when father managed to call, having to stutter hopelessly until she broke down and spoke to him in English instead, all with her mother's wide-eyes fixed on her in disbelief.

Her fear wasn't completely paranoid, though she knew it sounded it. Here, so far away in Japan, it wasn't was if she could get much practice. Perhaps she might run into a miserably lost German-speaking tourist but that was rare and the masses of Japanese people around her didn't speak a word of German. The internet helped, of course; browsing German sites and reading the local news in Munich was a favorite pastime of hers. She'd even programmed German into her Mini-Computer and Visor to keep it fresh in her mind when she was afraid the language was disappearing faster than she could blink. The problem was that most of all that was written words, which would never completely be on par with having a spoken conversation with someone in rapid-fire German like she craved from time to time.

Her mother was the most likely candidate to speak German with—having learned the language while in the country for so long—but it seemed like she hardly ever saw the woman anymore. Between her mother's duties at the hospital and her duties to the Senshi, they were left with an occasional night together and most of their messages left on sheets of paper or the whiteboard beside the door. If she could hardly have an adequate conversation with her mother in Japanese, she doubted a German one would be any more likely.

Her father, then, became the next best choice. Furthermore, while they both spoke English, and he an upper-beginner level of Japanese, she spoke almost exclusively German with her father. The problem was, much like her mother, she rarely saw him too. At least she—roughly—had daily conversation with her mother. Conversations with her father were limited to his access to a phone and-or cell phone coverage . . . or a postcard . . . or, even rarer, a letter.

She really needed to get him to use that email address she had set up for him; it would do their relationship wonders when he was near a computer. As it was, the last time she'd spoken to her father was months ago—four, if she remembered correctly, which she sure she did—but she'd received a postcard from him on her birthday in September. That was just short of three months ago.

The postcard had been enhanced by his own painting—he often did that to commercial cards; she'd once asked him why he "defaced them", he insisted he "enhanced" and she had had to agree because he was a wonderful painter. It had been postmarked from somewhere in Central America, in a city she didn't recognize and had been too preoccupied to research, and had said he was sorry he couldn't call and wish her a verbal-Happy Birthday. There was not any phone reception in the bit of rainforest he was in, it went on to say, and he wished her a fantastic birthday and to say 'Hello,' to her mother.

And that was it.

That was the one fault she found time and time again in her father. While she knew he loved her, he always seemed too . . . preoccupied to give her his undivided attention. He was always moving from one city to another, if not one country to the next, and he never seemed to stop thinking. Even she could shut down her brain and listen to music mindlessly every once in a while. Her father, on the other hand, she knew hardly let himself just stop and rest, and would often stay up late into the night—mostly painting, but sometimes he'd silently stare at a blank canvas with that oddly painful, contemplating expression she'd grown so used to him having.

He scared her when he was like that.

It was like he was warring with himself; one side of him being afraid to not be in constant motion, as if he'd go insane if he didn't do something, while the other side just wanted . . . peace.

She had never understand what could possibly be the matter, why he acted the way he did, but these past few months had opened her mind to new ideas and possibilities. Things like "reincarnation" had reentered her life as a terrifying fact and, times when her thoughts wandered to her father, half-formed thoughts and inclinations whispered to her. And they almost always included that word.

Was that what ailed Father . . . a reincarnation's life—it's presence—threatening to drive him mad?

And that scared her more than anything else because she was beginning to relate to the possibility.

She was supposed to be a reincarnation. A reincarnated warrior, someone sworn to protect Princess Serenity, the heiress of the Moon Kingdom and Silver Alliance. . . .

Like she never had before, these past few months she had found herself beginning to battle like her father. Her sides of her constantly opposing each other; the side that wanted a normal life, was desperately clinging onto her dream of being a doctor and perhaps finding someone to share a life with . . . and the other side that insisted she honor the duty she had been told she had so long ago and continue to protect her Princess—no matter what it cost her.

For someone she considered fairly rational and fair, it seemed like she couldn't find a middle ground to stand on—a possibility of doing both, having a future where she could be a doctor and have a life while protecting her princess. She'd begun arguments with herself, saying that she could—because, hadn't she been for months? It didn't matter that the princess was in person now, the only difference thus far had been more meetings—but time after again she couldn't see it a possibility. The past few months had been hard—miserably, terribly, hard—and to have a whole life like that . . .

But, surely she had to have had dreams in the Silver Millennium too. What had she done then?

'I don't remember . . .'

She frowned at the stray thought, studying the ceiling-mural. She could remember what her life had been like then, at least. It had been . . . happy; she'd been content with her life, living with her mother, traveling with her father across Europe occasionally, and studying to become a doctor. She'd known everything she'd ever needed to know about the future.

'Now I feel like everything is slipping away, out of my control . . .'

Her eyes suddenly narrowed on a spot underneath the bench in her mural. W.H. Anderson, it said in the corner.

Wilhelm Hans Anderson.

The decision to revert to her mother's maiden name once they arrived in Japan was supposed to make the transition back easier on her. Shy, quiet, certified genius-level IQ, half-foreign, blue hair . . . she'd agreed it would probably be best to go from Ami Anderson to Mizuno Ami when she and her mother relocated to give her some leniency.

Now she beginning to regret the decision.

She was Ami Anderson—better yet, Ami Mizuno-Anderson. Wilhelm Hans Anderson and Seako Mizuno were her parents; she was born on the tenth of September sixteen years ago in Minato Ward, Tokyo; she had grown up in Munich and for all her life her mother had been a doctor and her father an artist; she was fluent in German, English, and Japanese; and she wanted to be a doctor just like her mother since she was a child.

Those were the simple facts of her life but, now more than ever, in times like these, she needed to hold onto them. Eight months ago she had entered a world where monsters appeared in the dead of night, cats talked, and a princess of the moon existed . . .

The same princess who appeared out of nowhere and decreed her best friend —her first, truest best friend—was a traitor and threat to all of them. And her other best friend had, effectively, committed suicide for that same princess before she'd ever laid eyes on her again.

Ami was fairly certain she may begin to hate Princess Serenity if life continued this way.

The name itself—Princess Serenity—caused curious tugs on her heart, flashes of what might have once been devotion making her feel light and giddy and happy before they disappeared, like a balloon popping inside of her. Those balloons had been popping fairly quickly the last few days.

The sight of the woman, all silver and regal and stunning, caused scenes from fairytales and things like "happily ever after" to come to mind. But that mind of hers, so very German-oriented, instantly brought her to the Brothers Grimm and the real fairytales of cut-off toes and fairy godmothers, evil stepmothers and thorns that blinded princes.

It made her wonder just what the black speck—the moral lesson—of the Moon Princess's story was. She assumed the knowledge was somewhere inside of herself, where all the memories of the Silver Millennium hopefully laid in waiting, but she still couldn't remember and the princess didn't offer any information. However, something inside of her—she was sure it was the Silver Millennium Sailor Mercury part of her—insisted that this story couldn't have been written as something as simple as a jealous sorceress wanting to be immortal. There had to be more to it . . .

Otherwise they would have already had their "happily ever after", wouldn't they have?

And, by "happily ever after", she meant the ending Princess Serenity's mother had wanted to give them: a new life without powers or villains, but happiness.

So, surely there had to be something else to the story. Perhaps there was even a prince? There had been no mention of one sweeping Princess Serenity off her feet in the Silver Millennium yet . . . didn't fairytales almost always have princes? Fairy godmothers, she supposed, might be beneficial to them as well.

. . . Or a fairy-cat. That would do. Luna had bestowed the Senshi powers and devices like a fairy godmother.

She giggled then, startling herself, but that giggle quickly became a sob. She touched her cheek, following paths of water down to where they had slipped down her neck. How long had she been crying?

"Nein," she whispered thickly. No. This wasn't a fairytale she was reading, imagining herself inside only to be tucked in bed by her mother when it was all done and over with.

This was life—her life—and it was time for her to stop hiding in the sidelines and letting the princess control it.

And if Princess Serenity didn't like it?

'Too damn bad,' Makoto's voice whispered in her head.

Ami sat up swiftly, her eyes instantly going to her desk. Books upon books covered the wood surface, a constant reminder that each attempt to find mentions of the Senshi—and especially Serena—had failed. Stories, tales, poems by the dozens . . . the first read-through had hinted at neither Serena nor the Senshi and, with each further read, she had only found abstract mentions and half-formed suggestions that she, admittedly, knew she was likely forcing to connect in sheer desperation. Desperation to prove Serena was innocent and not a Dark Kingdom General's wife . . .

Yet, the fact of the matter was that she couldn't find a single piece of evidence that said one way or another who Serena might have been and, with each minute that ticked by, it only made her more anxious. She was at a standstill and quickly running out of options. The Silver Millennium had happened thousands upon thousands of years ago; there could be no way to find something as definitive as mention of Senshi or the Silver Alliance now . . .

So that only left one other option: going to the source herself.

Princess Serenity.

---

"Please wake up and remember me. I can't do this without you. You have to open your eyes and tell me your okay. Please."

It was a struggle to open his eyes but he couldn't understand why. It'd always been easy to open them before, hadn't they?

Huh. He couldn't seem to remember if it had been or not, now that he thought about it. It was as if this wispy fog was clouding his mind, choking off his ability to think properly. He did know one thing, though. It hadn't been like this before—the first time he woke up in that hospital, that is.

To tell you the truth, he hadn't even thought of it as "waking up". He just . . . acted. It had been dark, his body had supplied a means for there to be light for him to see. Simple as that. The question was why wasn't it that simple now? It was dark, so where was the light already?

"En— . . . mion . . . ."

He could imagine himself whirling around in the mist of his mind, his hand crossing to his side as if it had a reason to—as if it had been trained to do so. And he could imagine that he saw nothing, too. It was like the Princess's dreams all over again, unable to see anything until she deemed that he should. Except this time it felt like . . . him. A place that was familiar to him, not the strange wariness of the Princess's domain. He dared say it even felt like home here. Ironic, actually. To feel at home in a place where there was nothing.

Home should be—his home should be…

Classical music. The soft sound the hammer makes when it hits the right key on the piano; the quivering note on a violin as it climbs higher and higher . . .

Nature. The smell of sunshine surrounding him; the whispering secrets the trees confided in him one a breezy afternoon . . .

Laughter. Deep, booming joy. The sound of a soft chuckle. A child's peal of delight. Hearty merriment, a simple joke being told. Mischievous giggles surrounding him from all sides . . .

Warmth. A golden glow from deep inside of him. The flash of a mother's smile, a comforting embrace. A part on the back, the smell of aftershave engulfing him. A loud cheer and a clatter of mugs . . .

. . . A pair of crystalline blue eyes, flecks of silver slowly memorizing him . . .

"Sere," he whispered to himself with a smile. Yes. That was home.

He'd give anything to go back home . . .

"En—

"—rien?"

He was sure he was dreaming; maybe even still lost in that fog clouding everything. He blinked a few times but the image of those same crystalline blue eyes never faded. Neither did their tears; pools of concern and sadness just waiting to streak down and over unseen cheeks. His focus never wavered from the eyes so he was startled to find a thumb running under the right one abruptly. He was even more startled to find it was his own. "Sere . . ." He traced a tear as it slid down her cheek wondrously; he could almost imagine them being made of pure, liquid silver. "'ou o'ayz?" His brow furrowed at his slur. "Are. You. Okay?" he pronounced slowly, precisely.

The skin under his finger crinkled upwards as a bright smile broke out on her face. "Maybe. Just answer one thing first," she whispered, chuckling watery. "What's my name?"

It was hard to hear her words, to focus on them. It was almost as if he was underwater, looking up at the surface helplessly to see a pair of blue eyes focused on him. "S—" He stopped abruptly, blinking a few times. No. He didn't want to call her Sere again. He didn't think he was saying it right, anyways; was it supposed to rhyme with 'hair'? "O . . . dango," he offered after a hesitant moment, shaking his head. With each small shake, he could literally feel his thought pattern become more solid, clear. He watched as the pair of blue eyes slowly morphed into a face, then the face into a person, then that person into a room. Then he finally heard movement. A crash from somewhere over his head, a sigh of relief, a—

"Darien, you remember!" Serena squealed as she shot into his arms. It was an awkward feat, being he was still on her lap, but she didn't let that stop her. She squeezed him around the middle, burying her face into his chest and contenting herself with the steady beat of his heart beside her temple. He was okay, he was alive . . .

"Serena?" For one, brief moment she panicked as he tried to move away from her and tightened her grip frantically. "Sere—oomph." He winced, pulling his head back so he could see the top of hers. "What's wrong?" he said quietly as he brought a hand up to her back. The fog was almost gone now. He was aware of his surroundings in a vague kind of way—he knew he was at least with Serena in her house—though what, exactly, was happening right now still seemed to be eluding him. . . .

"N-nothing!" She sniffled as relieved tears broke the dam in her eyes and began pouring down her cheeks. "You're okay!" her muffled voice exclaimed gaspingly. "You . . . you're not dead! And . . . and . . . " She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and shook her head wildly. "You're not dead!"

"I will be without oxygen." It was an automatic response; after so many months of going head to head with her, his mouth knew what to say even while his brain was struggling to catch up. '. . . Dead? What's she talking about?' His eyes flickered around quickly but he only grew more confused at the sight of Mrs. Tsukino hovering behind her daughter, an utterly conflicting expression on her face. Mr. Tsukino wasn't in sight, though his mind supplied him with the memory of the crash upstairs. But, where was her brother? And shouldn't there be someone else with them?

"Oh! Sorry, sorry!" She backed away quickly, offering him a sheepish smile as she dashed a hand across her eyes and sniffled a few more times.

The actions only brought his attention to her tears again. His hand hovered near her face, as if to brush away them away, but something held him back. Something had happened when he was with her last time; something that had caused all this . . . "Odango," he said softly as his hand fell back down to his side uselessly, "are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded even as she laughed watery again. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? Death's one thing, but okay is another story."

He blinked. "Should . . . you . . . be?" He looked around again, allowing little fragments of memory to return. He could remember being in the Tsukino dining room with the intention of eating breakfast with them but—"Why am I lying on your lap?" he mumbled as he turned his attention back to Serena.

She lost her smile quickly. "You don't remember what happened? . . .You don't feel any pain?"

He began to shake his head and lift himself back up, only to hiss through his teeth as the motions rattled his head. His hand went up instinctively to the back of his skull as he stumbled out of her lap to land in front of her with a thud. She was instantly there, standing on the tops of her knees and hovering over him. "Now I do," he supplied dryly, grimacing as he touched a tender spot. Immediately a new—almost eager— stream of gold began flooding from his fingers onto the spot he was rubbing.

The hands she had been moving to that same spot froze in mid-action. "Wow," she breathed. "That's so amazing. . . ."

He looked up at her oddly. "What? Pain?"

She giggled and shook her head. "No." She smiled as her hands began moving again. "Your healing sp—arks." She gasped in surprise as she was suddenly grabbed by her upper arm and pulled up into a standing position. "Mom!" she complained in disbelief as the women proceeded to drag her a few feet away. "What are you doing?"

"Sparks, Serena!" Ikuko exclaimed as she pushed her daughter behind her. She turned to face befuddled man, bracing herself for any retaliation even as she continued to address Serena. "Don't you see the gold sparks bleeding out of his head? And you were going to touch them, for goodness sakes!"

Darien grimaced and self-consciously covered the whole of the injury with the palm of his hand, trying to hide any of his healing powers. It'd help if he knew how bad the injury was; let alone what had happened in the first place to get it there and him unconscious . . .

What had happened? He come here with a mission. He'd come with—'Rose.' His eyes light up in memory. Rose had showed him a picture of Serena's friend Makoto and told him that was her mother. He'd come here and told Serena, then they had fallen asleep on . . . her . . . bed. He winced. How could he have forgotten that? The nightmare, staying up late to keep an eye on her, annoying her into a kiss, Mrs. Tsukino finding them after they'd tried to kiss again, talking before breakfast, Rose asking Serena for help with her mother's birthday present, Mrs. Tsukino accusing him of blackmailing Serena with her other identity . . .

"They're not bleeding out of his head!" Serena protested as she tried to shrug her mother's grip off her arm. "And so what if they were? He's hurt and needs help!"

Darien's brow knitted together in pain as a headache began to throb behind his eyes. They were still yelling? He frowned abruptly. '. . .Still? That's right. The argument. Serena defended me and Mrs. Tsukino kept wanting to know why I knew everything but she couldn't . . . Serena . . . oh, no.' If his head didn't already hurt, he would hit himself for forgetting.'Serena told her about the Senshi wanting to kill her; she kept getting angrier and angrier. I tried to stop her before she said it, but I'd been too late . . . .' He shook his head. What else? There had to be more. He'd told her to stop and she'd begun yelling, then . . . then . . . what? Honestly, with the trouble he had remembering, you'd think the—

"Not when he has gold sparks on his head!" Ikuko exclaimed. "No matter where they're coming from! Have you already forgotten he just had gold eyes a few minutes ago, too?"

He paled as his thought was finished for him. You'd think the gold-eyed persona had come out . . . "Oh, no."

"Yeah!" Serena snapped. "Before you hit him in the head with an encyclopedia and almost killed him!" She nodded as she caught sight of Darien's slack jaw, though it wasn't for the reason she assumed. "Yeah. That's what I thought too. Unbelievable she'd actually hit you, right?"

Instantly, Ikuko protested. "I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

Serena whirled around, disbelief clouding her expression. "An accident? You mean the book magically dropped from the sky while you were right there, holding your arms up like you were going to hit him with air?"

"No! I mean—"

"What is going on in here?" Mother and daughter gasped, their heads snapping over to see Kenji in the doorway with a scowl on his face. Darien's attention stayed on the Tsukino-women in sheer disbelief. "I'm gone upstairs for a few minutes to find the phone"—Kenji pointedly held up the white cordless-telephone in his hand, scowling deeper—"and you two are arguing? There's an unconscious man with a . . . head . . . injury . . ." He blinked as he turned to see Darien sitting up. "Well—" He stopped, scratching the top of his head. "Are . . . are you all right, Darien? Do you need an ambulance?"

Darien's mouth opened and closed, looking between Kenji and the women, before he turned to Serena. "What did he do?" he asked desperately. Hundreds of thoughts swirled in his mind; the golden-eyed persona had to have done nothing short of horrendous to make Ikuko react the way she had—was.

The elder Tsukino stared at him in bafflement, but Serena understood instantly. "Nothing," she insisted quickly. "You did absolutely nothing."

"N-nothing?" Ikuko sputtered. "In the very least, he scared you!"

Darien grimaced. "Scared—"

"No he didn't!" Serena snapped as she whirled on her mother. She jerked her arm out of the woman's slack grip, feeling her eyes sting with frustrated tears. "I already told you he was defending you! I bet he won't have if he knew you were going to knock him unconscious, though!"

Kenji's eyes darted back and forth frantically as he absently laid the phone down on the table. He wasn't even sure where to start refereeing. "Dear . . ."

"I didn't mean to!" Ikuko turned to Darien, genuine concern and regret softening her fierce expression. "I swear I would never have hit you like that before, with or without your preexisting amnesia, and I am deeply sorry but,"—she glanced at her daughter helplessly—"I had to do something."

"That doesn't include using an encyclopedia!" Serena insisted as she stalked over to Darien and knelt down next to him. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" she asked in concern. He looked at her blankly, making her frown. "You know, to make sure everything is okay in that head of yours?"

He watched her for another moment before shaking his head. He instantly stilled as pain began to pound behind his eyes again. "No. I'll be all right."

She eyed him before biting her lip and leaning forward slightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "For telling them about your amnesia. I just . . . she hit you and you fell on top of me and . . . and I was afraid you'd forget me and—" She swallowed thickly. "I don't want to face all this without you and . . . and . . ." She stopped, taking deep gulping breaths.

"I understand, Odango," he said softly. "And you should know by now that you can't get rid of me so easily. If shoes don't do it, I doubt a book would," he added, trying to make her smile. She didn't. "I'm okay. Promise." He held up the hand that had been nursing the back of his head. "See? No blood or anything."

She frowned again, her eyes fixed on his head. "But . . ." Her hands began moving toward the gold sparks she could still see leaping off him occasionally. "Wh—y." This time as she was ripped away, she wasn't nearly as surprised. She was still as angry, however. "Mom, stop doing that! I'm not a doll, you know!"

Kenji watched his wife drag their daughter toward him, dumbfounded beyond belief. "Ikuko, what in the world are you doing?"

Ikuko planted Serena behind her again, brown eyes fiercely narrowed at anything and everyone. "I am protecting my daughter!"

"From what?" father and daughter yelped at the same time.

"From . . . from him!" She gesturing wildly to Darien, who only frowned as his eyes remained fixed on Serena's struggling form. "Our daughter does not need to be associated with some . . . some stranger with a psychotic split personality—"

Serena's mouth dropped open and she stopped struggling. "Split personality? Psychotic?"

"Ikuko!" Kenji exclaimed in shock. What had happened to his sweet, loving, accepting wife?

"—and gold things leaping off of him everywhere doing who knows what! Do you hear me, Darien?" Ikuko cried. "You and whoever that gold-eyed thing is, stay away from Serena! She isn't your anything to order around, or intimidate, or anything else! And she never will be! Forget about any friendship or . . . or whatever else you think you have with her! It's over!"

"Says who!" Blonde hair snapped around as Serena tried to wiggle out of the hold she was in again. "And he isn't ordering me around, or intimidating me! Right Dar—" She turned to him, only to stop as she watched him pick himself up. Something didn't seem . . . right. "What's . . . wrong?" She gasped as he got up to his feet only to stumble. "Darien!" she cried, only for her mother to hold her back.

Kenji himself took an instinctive step toward the younger man, only to freeze in indecisiveness as he saw a flash of gold leap off into the air.

"No." Darien stopped, grasping his head and shaking it a little. Serena quickly focused in on the fact he didn't looked up, though. "I am fine."

"Darien." She paused, holding her breath. "Let me see your eyes." Her eyes narrowed as he shook his head again. "Let me see them now. I know something isn't right."

"Do not concern yourself over it."

She growled and did the only thing she could think of to get him to look at her. She reached down and yanked her shoe off, throwing it at him with all her might.

He swore something unintelligible as she made contact with his cheekbone. Just as she expected, when he looked up his eyes were blazing gold, inciting a sharp intake of air from Kenji and a strangled cry from Ikuko.

"Must you do that?" the golden-eyed man grumbled, rubbing his head.

Serena scowled. "If you don't like it, then listen to me next time!"

He narrowed his eyes back at her. "You were not nearly as volatile in the last lifetime."

"And I have a feeling you were more bossy!"

" 'twas my right." He laughed before suddenly crying out, bending forward instinctively as one of his hands clutched his forehead. Within seconds, he was falling back down to his knees with a sharp gasp of pain.

"Darien!" Her struggling began again frantically. "Mom, let me go! He's in pain, he's not going to hurt me!"

"I don't care, Serena! You aren't allowed to go anywhere near him; he's not normal!"

The blonde froze, feeling herself pale as she slowly turned to her mother. "Normal? He's not normal enough for you to accept him—help him?"

"Nothing—" They all turned to the raspy word to see Darien crouched on the ground, shaking his head lightly. "I haven't . . . heard before." When he looked up, his eyes were blue but Ikuko still tightened her hold on her daughter.

Serena swallowed thickly in the meantime, her eyes wide. His health seemed to have done a complete turn-around in the blink of an eye and, more than if he was still unconscious, that scared her . " . . . Darien? . . ."

"I'm fine," he insisted quickly, though his actions were careful as he climbed back to his feet. "Just a headache." He paused, his eyes sliding over the scene the Tsukinos made. Serena was standing slightly behind her mother, her braid all askew now and looking far too pale for his liking. Ikuko, on the other hand, was a little too red and—if it was any other situation—he'd be advising her to sit down and take a few calming breaths. Kenji, by far, looked the most normal; though, his glasses were just about to fall off the edge of his nose and the way his brow was crinkled told him he had just as bad of a headache as he himself had. "And come to the realization that I've far, far exceeded my welcome," he added belatedly.

Without another word, he turned to leave.

---

Zoisite's mood soured again quickly.

Jadeite wasn't exactly sure whether it was caused by the fact Zoi had said out loud that Commander was his "father," or whether it was because the man wasn't technically missing. It was probably both; Zoisite wasn't one to admit Commander was his father and it went without saying that a shock like him missing when he might not be wasn't pleasant . . . and, besides that, Zoi had been acting oddly for days. Ever since they had found out Commander had known about Darien for years, to be precise. Well, "odd" was in the eye of the beholder so, Jadeite supposed, you could even say Zoi had been acting oddly ever since Commander had called them in London and told them Endymion was in Tokyo—

"Commander's your father!" Motoki balked for the tenth time since the admission. Sure, he may not have really known Zoisite or any of the other generals this time around until a few weeks ago but that didn't mean he hadn't heard stories and seen things. Nothing told him the two men were related; they sure didn't act like it, for Sol's sake! Zoisite didn't even called Commander anything but, well, "Commander"!

Zoisite waved a careless hand in the Solarian's direction. "Technicalities. Legalities. Don't really care for either of them where it concerns him. Now be quiet."

Jadeite knew he wouldn't, though, because he saw a sudden understanding dawn on Cadeyrn's face. "Wait, that means—"

"I said be quiet," Zoisite snapped with a swift glare. "And that is an order, understood?"

Motoki closed his mouth, swallowing as another revelation came to him. You didn't become one of King Endymion's top warriors and advisors for nothing. He'd known that very well when the generals had arrived—had even been apprehensive of them—but it seemed he'd forgotten that in these few short weeks. Probably when memories of Prince Cadeyrn and Solarian heritage and honor got to him. "Okay," he agreed quietly and just a little surly. He really should go back to sleep; no one yelled at him then. . . .

Zoisite nodded in satisfaction and turned back to the phone base. "Dr. Aidan, you still there?"

There was a pause, then, "I can't decide if I should say 'unfortunately' or not."

Jadeite laughed. "Might as well say it. I'm thinking it." He grinned as Zoisite shot him an exasperated look. "What? It's true."

Zoisite shook his head as he looked to the phone again. "Let me get this straight, doctor. You don't actually know if Commander's really missing or not?"

". . . No," the man admitted. "I guess not, technically. But, it's been a day. You know how he is."

"He always checks up on everyone," Zoisite murmured. "To make sure nothing's wrong. You can almost time him down to five minutes from when he's scheduled to arrive at his destination." His eyes sharpened as his mind began working overtime. "All right, start at the beginning. You said he went to America? Why? A prospective student?"

"Jupiter. I don't know if you've heard but she . . ."

"Died," Jadeite answered just as quietly. "We all know. We're in Japan, remember?" His eyes widened suddenly. "Please tell me he's not going there to—"

At his side, Zoisite groaned. "He has to be."

"He flew over there to tell her parents about her death," Aidan confirmed. "I don't know how, exactly, he was planning on achieving that but that's what he was supposed to do. But, as I was saying, he never rung to tell me he arrived." His eyes fell down to the desk. "And, lo and behold, when I call his mobile I hear it ringing from the same room. He'd been using the airport phones, so I have no way to contact him until he contacts me."

Zoisite frowned. "When was he supposed to have landed?"

Aidan flipped his wrist and looked at his watch. "Saturday, but his flight got delayed by a few hours in London so I suppose early this morning New York-time is more accurate."

"What did he do beforehand?" Jadeite asked automatically. "And why didn't he leave from Glasgow?"

"At Friday's breakfast, he abruptly announced he was leaving the country and didn't know when he'd be back. Told everyone I was in charge, be good and all that. That afternoon, he left after he explained to me he had something to take care of in London too and he'd just fly out to JFK International from there."

"Wait, wait," Zoisite said quickly. "He left Headquarters Friday? Why?"

"He didn't say and I didn't think to ask. All I knew was that he was headed for New York and he mentioned he might have to head to Tokyo not long after. I figured he was just getting business out of the way."

"May . . . be," Jadeite drawled, glancing at his fellow general. "Do you think he might have been taking care of something for Darien?" he asked in a low voice, making sure Motoki couldn't overhear.

"Or one last effort at hiding his embezzling," Zoisite hissed back furiously before looking down at the phone. "Basically haven't seen him all weekend, doctor?" A positive. "When, exactly, was the last time you heard from him, then?"

Aidan squinted, thinking. "He called me about one in the afternoon Saturday, telling me he was going to board the plane, then called back thirty minutes later to tell me the flight had been delayed until that night. Called about ten that night, saying he was on the plane, and that was that. He said he was supposed to land about five in the morning New York-time and would ring me then. The plan was sleep, go see Jupiter's parents when he woke up, and then ring me again afterwards."

"But he never did." Jadeite's brow furrowed. "That's . . . strange. Really not like him."

Orders or not, Motoki's couldn't help but ask, "You sure he got onto the plane? Maybe it got delayed again?"

"No. I called Heathrow and they confirmed all their flights to JFK departed that morning. The problem is that two of them ended up being forced to stop because of a sudden storm. One in Newfoundland, the other in Greenland. I assume he's on one of them, yet . . ."

"You're not positive," Zoisite finished. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on quickly. "But, in all actuality, he could be perfectly fine."

Jadeite frowned as he glanced at his fellow general. "We should still be cautious about this, Zoi. Making a single man disappear is easy. Thousands of miles away is completely irrelevant."

"I know—the hotel," Zoisite said suddenly. His eyes riveted to the phone base. "Do you know where Commander was staying in New York, Dr. Aidan?"

"I called. He never checked in."

Zoisite stopped, rolling his eyes skyward as he took a deep breath. "I hate Commander right now. And part of me really doesn't care that he might be missing."

Jadeite frowned as he studied his friend. He didn't believe that for a minute. "Maybe not Commander," he finally said, "but what about Artemis? You care he's missing? Arthur, even?"

Zoisite looked at him blankly. "Commander is my superior officer and the headmaster. Lord Artemis was my teacher. I don't have to care about them. For goodness sakes, I've been cursing at him from the moment he told me he'd lied to us about everything for—at least—five years."

"But Arthur is your father now," Jadeite retorted mildly. "Technically."

"Don't remind me," Zoisite growled as he patted his pockets, looking for a pen. He quickly pulled one out as he grabbed the small notepad beside the phone base. Then he sighed. "All right, Dr. Aidan. What's the hotel's address? And the phone number?" He nodded along, scribbling the information as Aidan relied it. "No flight number, you said?" he asked as he wrote: 22:00 GMT—departure; 5 EST—arrival beneath everything.

"No. Sorry."

Zoisite's frown deepened. "What about the terminal at JFK? You know it?"

"No." Aidan sighed. "I didn't ask a lot of questions because I didn't expect him to disappear. Or for him to forget his mobile here, for that matter."

"Understandable," Jadeite said before frowning. "Hey, do you have either my or Zoi's mobile numbers' somewhere, doc?"

"Actually"—Aidan cast a quick glance around the desk—"there's a nice note here that reads 'Zoi and Jed: Tokyo hotel phone number and connections'. That will work, I'm assuming?"

"Oh, well, to be on the safe side . . . ." He quickly rambled off their mobile phone numbers, nodding to himself, before saying, "Just call one of us as if there's any news about Commander's whereabouts. We'll do the same, right Zoi?" he added as he glanced over at the man.

Zoisite frowned. "Yeah, I'll see what I can do in the meantime. If he does call you first, though, doctor, could you tell him he needs to call us as soon as possible? Better yet, tell him to get to Japan immediately. There isn't time to waste or hide anymore. Not when a certain evil woman is currently here and seems to have been for a while."

Aidan swallowed thickly, his eyes wide. There could only be one 'certain' evil woman. "Y-you mean—"

Motoki blinked in surprise before abruptly sitting up straighter. "What did Áine confirm?"

Jadeite squinted at Cadeyrn. "How could we not have . . .?" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Just another thing to add to the 'Oh, Shit!' list. Yesterday Áine told us her wonderful boss has been in Tokyo at least since she herself has been here. Fantastic news when Endymion and Serenity are running around so unawares, right?" he asked sarcastically. "The Dark Kingdom was bad enough by itself."

Motoki's face proceeded to pale seconds before his mouth dropped open yet again.

"C-Crown Princess Serenity . . . .," Aidan stuttered, "and danger. Big danger."

"Your surveillance work of everyone, Cadeyrn," Zoisite said as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, "apparently missed something. I would work on that." His lips lifted up into a half smile. "And I think I see why Aidan never became a soldier."

"There's bound to be too much blood," the man retorted quickly.

Jadeite couldn't help but laugh. "Says the doctor."

Aidan rolled his eyes. "Blood in a controlled environment is completely different than the randomized violence of battle, thank you very much." He shook his head. "Any ideas what I should do? I don't want to worry, but now that I know that . . ."

"Don't worry," Zoisite insisted. "He's okay. He's lived long enough to take care of himself."

"Fine. I'll call if I get word from him. By—" Aidan stopped abruptly, remembering something. "Oh, wait! Do any of you happen to have King Thor of Jupiter's mobile number or anything? The number I found here in Commander's office was out of service."

Jadeite swallowed. He'd only met King Thor twice; once on the Moon by chance and the other time when he was a child at HQ. He hated to admit it, but the man didn't just intimated him—he terrified him. "Why?"

"He left a message not too long ago. I . . . think he might have found out about Jupiter's death."

Jadeite and Zoisite shared a glance, wincing. Heads just might start rolling. "Glad I'm not you right now," the former couldn't help say with chuckle.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not you either."

Zoisite laughed as well but it quickly turned into a grimace as he remembered just what was happening here. "Thanks," he grumbled before rooting around for his mobile phone in his pocket. He glanced between Jadeite and Cadeyrn. "Well, either of you know his number?"

Motoki paled and rapidly shook his head in the negative while Jadeite frown thoughtfully. "No," he supplied after a moment. "And I doubt Nephrite would have it, either. He never even met Thor in this life. That was just you, me, and Kunz when we were younger."

Zoisite nodded absently, his attention focused on his mobile. After some quick thumb work, though, he frowned and said, "No. Sorry, doctor. None of us have it."

Aidan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All right. Thanks for looking. I guess I'll just have to wait until he calls back. No one here seems to have an updated number, either. Except maybe Commander but with his currents whereabouts . . ."

"I'll see what I can do," Zoisite repeated. His eyes flickered down to his mobile before over to his laptop by the eating table. "He's most likely okay."

"I suppose that's all we can ask for." Aidan sighed again. "Thank you. And be careful, all of you. She's a formidable enemy."

"You don't know how much," Jadeite whispered as the doctor disconnected the call. He frowned up at his friend. "Zoi . . ."

The man glanced up before shaking his head and walking toward his laptop. "He's okay. And she will be okay, too," he added after a moment, running a tired hand through his temporary-brown hair. "She has to be."

Neither Motoki or Jadeite didn't need to ask which 'she' he was referring to specifically. Albreda—Ami.

Motoki frowned, his mind turning over his previous thoughts. 'He does care. Then, the secret isn't feeling anything, it's burying it . . . for the sake of their master. They are that utterly devoted to Endymion. . . .'

---

It took a few moments for Darien's words, and his actions, to register in Serena's muddled mind but when they did, she instantly jerked herself out of her mother's numb grip for the umpteenth time and raced after him. "No! Wait! Don't leave!"

She broke into the living room just in time to watch him grab what looked to be a diaper bag off the couch and pull it's strap over his shoulder. For a brief, wild moment all she could do was stare at the girly pink and flower-covered bag lying against his leather jacket, barely hiding her father's hideous green and brown sweater—on top of Darien's utterly serious expression—and vainly try not to give into hysterical laughter. She knew it'd just lead to more tears; it hadn't of even been twenty minutes since she had been laughing over Darien's complaints of both the sweater and the ancient, ankle-baring trousers he wore and now . . .

"I have to." Darien shot a quick glance to the dining room doorway to see Ikuko and Kenji standing side-by-side, the latter holding out an arm to block his wife's trek. "It's better if I do."

"Then I'll go with you!" Serena exclaimed quickly. "Just let me get my coat and—"

In the background, Ikuko took a step forward only to be stopped by her husband again. "Let them be for a few minutes," he whispered, making her frown. "You owe them that."

"Serena." The girl turned back to Darien, her smile fading. He, in turn, sighed. "We both know you shouldn't. After everything that's been said, it's best if you stay here and work this out with your parents. And I need to go, so you can."

Her lips parted, though she wasn't sure why she was so surprised—or hurt. The rational part of her readily agreed with him yet . . . well, she wasn't the most rational person in the world, was she? Rational people didn't believe stories of ten-thousand-year-old guardians protecting a Princess from the moon—especially if those stories were told by a cat. . . .

"Odango, I . . ." Darien's tongue felt thick suddenly, making him swallow a few times. "I've already caused too many problems between you and your mother this morning. I don't want to be the reason you fight with her. She's the only one you have and I refuse to destroy that relationship in any way. I know . . . I know what it's like to not have one," he whispered. "And it hurts. It hurts a lot."

"But . . . you don't need to go," she insisted.

"Yes. I do." He sighed, glancing at Ikuko. "This—remember what you said when you were with my parents by the ocean?" he asked suddenly. "What we both said?"

Serena frowned. "About what?"

"We were joking about the gold-eyes being a split personality," he reminded. "We shouldn't have treated it so lightly because that is what he is. He's an independent persona that I have absolutely no control over. He proved that all too well this morning. We don't know what he's going to do or what he's done. I've said it before, he could have been appearing for who knows how long without us knowing it . . ."

"But he isn't dangerous!" She stalked up to him, staring him in the eye. "I talked to him, just before he—you—were knocked unconscious, okay? I asked him if you were Darien's incarnation and you know what he said?" He shook his head wordlessly. "He said, I and I quote, 'Correct. I am your Darien.' He isn't a split personality, he's your incarnation!"

Forgotten for the time being, Ikuko and Kenji gaped. "In . . . carnation?"

"Incarnation or not, he still acts separately from me," Darien retorted. "That makes him a liability."

"No. Because even before I could ask him, he told me 'I shall protect you as always.' That doesn't sound like a danger to me! Always, Darien, always. That includes you too!" she said desperately. "You can't just stop protecting me!"

A corner of his lip turned up in a semblance of a smile. "I never said I was. I insisted I would not too long ago, remember? But,"—his smile faded—"you know my specialty lies in watching from the sidelines. It'll be best it I keep my distance again, at least until everything is normal again."

"N-normal?" The question was high, almost hysterical again. "What is normal to either of us!"

"Ask me that when your odango are back. That's when I know everything is okay again."

She gaped at him and, if he could, he would gap at himself too. Was his 'normal' really defined by Odango's odango—of all things? He shook his head quickly, blaming it on head trauma only half-jokingly, and turned to her parents as she sputtered. "I apologize for all the trouble I've caused. We," he corrected shortly, making a vague gesture to his eyes.

Ikuko flinched but Kenji took a bold step forward. "It's all right, Darien. We . . . we haven't been exactly the best of hosts this morning either. I apologize for everything too."

Darien nodded once, sharply. "Thank you, again, for taking care of Rose for me last night. There won't be a repeat of last night, I swear." He glanced through the window and he could see the younger Tsukino and the toddler on the sidewalk. "Would you like me to send Shingo in?"

The Tsukino parents shared a glance. "Um—"

"So that's it?" They all turned to Serena to see the angry disbelief on her face. "You're going to suddenly start avoiding me because my mom doesn't think we should spent time together? Because you don't trust yourself?"

"I never said I was going to avoid you," Darien was quick to correct. There was a twinge in his heart; partly caused by her broken expression, mostly at what he was about to say. "Yet—" He stopped, running an agitated hand through his hair. He really didn't want to say it, either, but it would be safest for her . . . "Yet it'd probably be best if we stopped . . . spending as much time together as we do. Your mother's right. I've been a little . . ."—he grimaced—"domineering lately. I just hadn't realized it."

She scowled. "So. Your bossy, I throw shoes at you, and my mother knocked you unconscious. That makes us even."

He shook his head. "No it doesn't. Not even close. I've been paranoid about everything—"

"Which is understandable," she interrupted. "I've been having a lot of . . . problems . . . with enemies—and allies—lately." She mentally winced. That was the understatement of the year.

"It isn't understandable when you're the one suffering through all of this," he insisted harshly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ikuko tense, prompting him to sigh. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I haven't had any right to tell you what to do, or who to see."

"Do you really think you could tell me what to do, or who I can and can't see?" she snapped angrily. "You give me advice that I listen to because you're the only one that's even remotely trying to help me right now! If I thought your words didn't make a shred of sense, I wouldn't listen to them!"

He dropped his hand to watch her. "Look at your parents, Serena." She stubbornly fixed her eyes on him, making him sigh again. "They're not just trying to help you," he said. "They're desperate to. Your mother was right about something else. You don't have just me, have them too. Which is why I'm leaving." He took a step toward her only to stop and shake his head. "Talk with your parents," he said softly. "Please."

He was out the door before she could even think of a retort to yell at him.

---

It turned out Shingo didn't want to brave coming back into the Tsukino house. Instead he stayed outside, staring at the house warily. Serena was hardly aware of her brother's absence, however, as she stood staring at the door Darien had disappeared through.

She didn't know how long it had been when someone cleared their throat behind her and then her mom cautiously said, "Serena—"

She didn't give her mother a chance to finish whatever she was going to say. "Did that sound like someone with a psychotic split personality, Mom? Someone not normal?" She looked over her shoulder but she was sure what she felt anymore. A wave of emotions crashed over her, reminding her of that time so long ago when she had first transformed into Sailor Moon. She would never forget that day and she had a feeling she would never forget this one, either. Neither was for the pleasant memories.

Ikuko took a step back, unsure of what to do. Then her eyes narrowed at her daughter's stubbornness, her inability to be reasonable right now. "Did you not hear what he said? Even he admitted that . . . that thing was a split personality! That it was dangerous!"

"Not again." Kenji groaned, burying his hands under his glasses, and Ikuko took the opportunity to slip past him to face their daughter.

"He thinks it's dangerous," Serena corrected quickly. "That doesn't mean it—he—is!"

"Well, I think so!" Ikuko snapped. "And I still think there's something wrong with all of this!" She took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. "You were crying last night, Serena," she said firmly. "I heard you—the both of you. I may not have been able to make out the words but I know enough to know something isn't right with the relationship you and Darien have!"

"Stop it!" Serena slammed her eyes shut, clenching her hands to stop them from clamping over her ears also. She felt her eyes burning from tears but knew it wasn't just from now; there was something in the far back of her mind, another time she had fought like this . . . "The only thing that isn't right is having to defend him like this and having to suffer watching him die over and o—over." She choked, squeezing her eyes as if to block the image of the bloody sword that kept reappearing in her mind.

"W-what?" Ikuko stopped in surprise, glancing at her husband. He, in turn, dropped his hands and walked over to the two of them.

"Serena?" he whispered. "What do you mean?"

"My nightmares." She opened her eyes to stare at her mom. "You remember. I told you about them. My nightmares about the sword and the white light. I lied when I said I didn't know what it was doing," she admitted quietly. She felt a tear slid down her cheek as she looked away, unable to met either of her parents' confused expressions anymore. "I know exactly what it was doing. It was killing Darien. Stabbing him over and over again." She took a sudden gasping breath as she wrapped her arms around herself. "That's why I cry at night too, all right? That's what I was crying about last night." She looked up at them suddenly, shaking her head. "But you know what? That was the first time I felt relief afterwards. Because Darien was there, right there in the flesh with me, and I knew he wasn't dead or dying somewhere."

"Serena," Kenji ventured slowly, "is—does this have to do with what you mentioned before? About . . . those gold-eyes being Darien's incarnation?"

Her eyes snapped up as she paled, talking an involuntary step back. "Oh, no. . . ." She winced, muttering, "Stupid, stupid, stupid," to herself.

"Is it true?" Kenji asked in that same soft tone. It was so gentle—paternal—that it made Serena want to cry even as it began to relax her. "Are they really his incarnation?"

She looked down at the ground, chewing on her bottom lip. ". . .Yes," she whispered. "That's what Darien and I were talking about last night, after my nightmare. The gold-eye persona confirmed it himself while we were talking." She wasn't sure why she added it but she felt herself whispering, "My nightmares are about how he died last time. In his last life. I'm sure of it."

Kenji took it all in stride, nodding calmly. "And those gold sparks of his?"

She winced. "I . . . I really shouldn't."

"And why not?" Ikuko's voice was hard, curt, and it made Serena want to cry too. Where was her mother? This woman couldn't possibly be Tsukino Ikuko. Tsukino Ikuko was warm, gentle, and maybe a little scary where it involved failed tests and abandoned chores but she was never like this.

"It's . . . not my secret to tell," Serena finally whispered. She felt a tear rolling down her cheek at her mother's blank stare. This couldn't be her mother; Luna had to have done something to her.

"Serena, look at me."

As her father turned her chin to look at him, she had to blink. The image of a man with a long mane of golden hair and soft eyes smiled at her briefly before he faded. 'Papa . . .' She blinked back tears as a sudden wealth of sadness hit her.

"Serena," Kenji was saying, "I am on your side, all right? I always have been and I always will be. You're my little girl." He smiled sadly as he brushed away another tear as it slid down her cheek. "No one wants to see their little girl like this. I'm trying to understand so I can help you, all right? I'm not going to push you into telling me anything, though. I can understand that you have reasons why you've kept all this away from us for so long but I'm here to listen when you need me."

People really didn't give her father much credit. He was more than 'Crazy Tsukino Kenji', he was . . . Dad. "Thank you," she whispered. "That means a lot to me."

He nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't speak up sooner. I guess . . . the shock of it all, I suppose, kept me from saying anything earlier."

She sniffed a few times. "It's okay. I understand."

"Good." He suddenly looked apprehensive, his brow knitted together. "But, I need to ask you this, okay? Just to give me some peace of mind that you really are is safe. Is—Darien is the good guy, right? His incarnation, too?" He peered into her eyes carefully, with just a dash of desperation. "You're sure you—we—can trust him? Them?"

She smiled and Kenji had to marvel at how it light up her face like sunlight. Maybe even starlight. "He's the best. We can definitely trust him. Any time, any life."

"How do we know that?" Ikuko asked suddenly, her voice sounding too loud. She didn't look angry, just resigned, and Serena felt brief hope feel her that maybe her mother was still herself. Just . . . too overwhelmed by everything. "Everything I've seen tells me he's too unpredictable. He can't control this . . . this split personality . . . incarnation . . . whatever it is. Not now or—" She turned to her daughter suddenly. "He hid in your I.C.U. room, Serena. That night you were admitted to the hospital, he was hiding in your room before even I managed to get in there."

The girl blinked. "He was worried about me."

"But hiding?" Ikuko protested. "And then he jumped out the window! Five stories onto cement! He was completely fine the next day!"

"So?" Serena shook her head suddenly. "And he couldn't have been in my room. He was with our friend Motoki. In the parking lot."

"Well,"—Ikuko voice was beginning to rise, making Kenji frown—"he could have and he was! Maybe before he was with Motoki, maybe after. I don't know but the fact of the matter is that I saw him in that room; I talked to him and he was acting just like that he was when that personality took him over today!" Her eyes widened as something occurred to her as well. "And he beat up Motoki that night, too! He admitted it. Right to my face that next morning when he came to visit you. He said he had reservations about bring you to the hospital and Motoki wouldn't listen to him. That he got off easy!"

Serena winced. She knew that would come back to haunt someone. "I know," she said surly, "and I gave him an earful about it already. He apologized."

"And that's supposed to make it okay?" It was the housewife's turn to become hysterical. "Motoki was beaten black and blue for trying to save you! Darien is too unpredictable, too dangerous!"

The retort popped out of Serena's mouth before she ever thought about it. It made her wonder if they were words from another argument, one long ago . . . . "He is no savage! He does what needs be to protect those he cares for! That is what decent individuals do!"

Kenji eyed his daughter curiously but Ikuko only grew angry. "Oh, so now I'm not a decent person because I've never beaten someone up?"

Serena's eyes snapped up to her mother. "No. Of course not." She shook her head "I'm trying to get you to understand that just because Darien got into a fight with Motoki doesn't make him a bad person or dangerous. Darien was the one that took care of me once I collapsed at the arcade; he was the one who took care of me before that. It was only when he left to get medical supplies that Motoki rushed me to the hospital. Darien panicked and got worried; that's all it was. He just took it out on Motoki the wrong way."

"If Darien was so worried," Ikuko insisted, "then he should have taken you to the hospital himself at the first sign something was wrong with you! Called us,at least!"

Serena's hands clenched at her sides as she snapped, "He couldn't!"

"And why is that!"

"The same reason you hate him! I'm not normal either!"

Ikuko looked stricken. "What? Sweetie, why would you say such a—"

"Jumping out a of window?" Serena interrupted. "I've jumped off rooftops, light poles, fire escapes, you name it. You watched it happen every time a battle was shown on the television or a picture in the paper! Every time Sailor Moon did something incredible, something weird, that was me." She bit her lip, shaking her head. "So, if you think Darien isn't normal, then I'm not normal to you either. Me, or any of the Senshi. Even if I don't have powers anymore, that doesn't mean I didn't have them once. That I wasn't able to do some of the same things Darien can do right now."

"But you're not a Senshi anymore," Ikuko insisted but her voice sounded thin, weak, as if she was finally understanding she won't win this argument.

"So that means you're going to ignore the past nine months?" Serena shook her head, taking a step back, as her mother remained silent. "Well I'm not. That would be denying who I am right now. Who the Senshi are. Who Darien is."

"And just who is Darien, then?" Ikuko found herself whispering.

"Right now," Serena began in a similarly quiet voice, "he's someone that needs help because you can't handle someone who's different. Someone like me." She turned to the door only to stop suddenly, looking over her shoulder. "But maybe you're right, Mom. Maybe he isn't normal. Maybe he's extraordinary."

Mature words or not, she still slammed the door shut behind her childishly. She cast a quick glance at Shingo where he was sitting on the lawn, his eyes wide, and promptly winced. "Sorry. It . . . it should be okay now."

Her brother continued to stare at her, utterly still and silent, and, after a moment, she bit her lip and quickly ran down the sidewalk—away from her parents, away from her brother, but, more importantly, away from their . . . expressions.

Darien had never looked at her like that before. Ever. Not even during their not-so-daily-anymore-spats.

She bit her lip harder as she felt the tears flooding into her eyes. When had her life gone so wrong? When had she become a stranger to her own family?

---

Done: June 2, 2010 1 am.

1. I don't think I've ever clarified this but, my 'Sere' is pronounced SAIR. It's not SIR because, frankly, I just can't imagine something sounding like 'sir' a nickname for Serena—or Serenity, for that matter—without some inside joke. My 'SAIR' Sere is a short form of another name too, as it so happens! A just-missing-one-letter Solarian/Welsh name that perhaps someone called Serenity once upon a time . . . :)

2. Donovan (DON uh ven) From an Irish surname which was derived from Ó Donndubháin. The given name Donndubhán is composed of the Gaelic element donn "brown" combined with dubh "dark". It could also mean "dark chieftain" I've seen. Gibson (gib-SON) "son of Gib". Gib short for "Gilbert," which means "famous hostage/noble" from Germanic Gisil "hostage, noble youth" and berht "bright, famous".

Well, what's to say? This Donovan has odd minty blue-white hair, works in HQ's security, and he and Jadeite hate each other. I'd be keeping my eye on him when he shows up in in person in the next story! ((Any guess to who he might be? Hehe))

So . . . very, very sorry about the late chapter. I'm trying, I swear, and I do hope you enjoyed it, though I know it doesn't make up for almost a year-long wait . . .

But, it's my birthday. You can't yell at me. This was my gift to everyone else. :D LOL.

Please R/R, always appreciated.

Tiger Celeste.