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Despite the very real, irritable tone to her voice, Gehenna's face split into a smug grin when she finally brought herself to thank him. He was constantly doing dumb, life threatening things - it never stopped the deeply rooted impulsive streak.

By the amusement on his face, even Fiona's scowling wouldn't help very much.

What he wasn't expecting was Fiona to reach into her pocket and pull out a henshin pen. He knew what it was even before she muttered the words to activate it, before she was transformed right before his eyes. The smug look on his face was first wiped clean by the surprise, and then slowly replaced with his own mild irritation.

"You were going to try and protect me from a youma in your civilian form?" It wasn't angry, not the way that she had been at him, but more total disbelief. Even if it'd been just the two of them, just Kam and Fiona, there was no reason for her to think she'd have been the stronger of the pair. Knowing she could be a senshi made her reckless, especially if it meant she would take on a fight as little Fiona instead of powering up.

He didn't want to argue about it, though, and instead he turned his suddenly grouchy face to study her fuku.

"What are you? Another flower senshi?" His brows raised at the question as he met her mismatched eyes again.

He would have liked to say it was good to see that her fiery temper hadn't changed, but it was hard to appreciate it when she directed it at him. Damn redheads.

"What can I say? Observation and caution aren't really my style, doll. I'm all flair and burst." He realized he still didn't know her name, not this one, and he had to cover his own use of her true name with a tacky pet word. Just as well, since he seemed to be trying to divert her anger with his personal super power of joking about everything. "I'd like to see you drink that much whiskey and fight a giant lizard without getting labored."

Nevermind that drinking whiskey and fighting were bad ideas. He'd already been scolded once about it from an actual flower senshi. The parallels hit him harder than Fiona's words had alone and he frowned, perhaps taking some of her bantering to heart, even if silently.

"Ah, of course, dragonflies." He tugged at the bow on her hip with his thumb and forefinger, noting the material's similarity to the patterns on their wings. Of course, she was covered in flowers - even if he wasn't going to point that out with the temper she was already showing.

"Don't worry about me and the Negaverse, or those Dark Mirror skirts. I've gotten along this long without you, haven't I? There aren't many people that are going to stop my magic." Not even himself. The thought struck him, just as the memory of Ida had, and the darkness in his face surfaced unbidden.

A soft, defeated sigh passed his lips and as she reached out to tug his arm, he threw it across her shoulders and pulled her against his side so they could start walking. If he had to talk about this with her, he wanted the option of being able to stare off into the distance instead of down at her haunting, mismatched eyes.

"I guess since you're Denebola, there's no reason I can't.. talk about the rest of it." His arm tightened around her shoulders for just a moment and his eyes fell to his feet, watching the boots as they moved beneath him. The fall of the wooden heel made a dull thud against the pavement of the path, an odd noise in the middle of the night, but calming in some regard too.

It was odd, in some ways, to know that his highschool sweetheart was a part of the war that plagued him so deeply but, too, it was comforting. There were few people in the world he had been so close to as he had Fiona and when he was too distant to talk to Delphine or Penny, afraid that they might not understand due to their own punch-first-ask-questions-later attitude, he knew that she would listen. She might not understand all the details, but she would listen.

"My magic is.. troubling. It basically takes my will power and makes me a reckless monster." The dark eyes looked up from his feet, sideways to her, and then quickly up to the stars that lingered overhead. He wished he'd not tossed his coffee right about then - the part of him that wanted to fidget would have appreciated something to hold. "It's hard to explain how it feels and most people wave it off with the idea that all magic is dangerous but.." He paused over the words, suddenly not sure if he could bring himself to say them.

"But I can't differentiate who is an enemy and who is an ally - and I can beat someone to death. I've seen it. All it would take is one wrong move."

A small, amused smile spread across his lips as he heard Denebola's words and he looked over and down at her with that same sadly amused expression. He squeezed his arm around her, acknowledging what she'd said, before relaxing it again.

"I think it's the nature of the magic," he waved his right hand in front of them, showing off the gauntlets, "I don't know that much about my past but I have to assume I was a brawler if these are the weapons I get. I think my magic is like the berserker characters you see in video games. Very strong, but uncontrollable." It was all theory, speculation, because without knowing what he was meant to be doing in a past life it was hard to know what his purpose was. Who had Gehenna been?

"But you're probably right," he admitted, dropping the hand he had been showing off back to his side, "my own control problems probably don't help." He hadn't taken it the wrong way because ultimately, the last year or two (or five) had been him coming to terms with his faults - and then doing absolutely nothing to help the matter. Thus, drinking in a bar before sundown.

Next to her, he tensed a little, though he tried his best to still the worried expression over his face. Just the mere mention of home made Gehenna hyper aware of his planet, looming heavy and red overhead.

"Going home is kind of uncomfortable. I don't know what it's like for Senshi, on a world that basically belongs to you but.. there's something in our wonders and whatever it is, mine seems to be really, really upset at me right now." His gaze flickered to her mismatched one again, letting her see the bit of concern and shame that lingered, the secret reasons he had been driven to drink again and again. "Just using my magic gives me nightmares, F- Dene. Nightmares you wouldn't ******** believe."

"I definitely feel like a man of war."

There was a weak, jaded smile on his lips as he listened to her words. He knew how it felt to belong to Mars - the rush, the adrenaline, the feel of his magic, they were all things he'd known well before he ever took up the mantle as Gehenna.

"I'm sure there are plenty of reasons." And whatever those reasons were, they had caused him to stare off to his right and avoid her face. "I'm not saying I don't understand it. I do. I always understand disappointment." The sad smile returned and he dropped his gaze to his feet instead, watching his boots next to her small, pastel feet. It had been a long time since Gehenna had felt like he wasn't disappointing someone, he'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to exist guilt-free.

Although he missed the glare, he felt the comfort in her hand as it brushed his and it drew his attention back to her face. Even if the smile was weak, it helped. The sight of her face, so unerringly supportive even when she was trying to find a polite way to tell him he was ******** up, was a small comfort. Only someone that had known him as a good person, no matter how long ago, would even think of looking at him in such a way.

"I'm afraid that I could hurt anyone without meaning to." Now his own brows knit, recalling some memory, maybe several. "I'm not afraid of killing, not really, but," he paused, hesitating over his words, "but I am if it's not my choice."

If you'll let me.

It was such a small phrase, and yet, it held all the familiarity with his soul in those four words. Denebola, Fiona, knew that it wasn't enough to just want to help him - but that Gehenna, Kam, had to believe in himself enough to be helped. But she would know, wouldn't she?

The last time, he hadn't wanted her input.

"You know me," he said softly, trying to put humor into words that held too much tension despite his efforts, "I've always been a glutton for punishment."

The arm he had around her shoulders tightened just enough to pull her closer to him. It was a small sign that he appreciated her comfort, maybe even needed it, the support of someone that had known him before Destiny City changed his life. A series of unfortunate events from which he never quite recovered in time.

Deep down, he knew that Dene had to be right. He had been something in his last life - proud, respectful, loyal - and he had done it all with the command of the same magic. Part of him always wondered if there was some key element that he was missing - an item, a partner, anything. Another part of him thought that perhaps he was just unlucky enough to be awakened to Knighthood in this lifetime, that the code just hadn't realized what a disaster he truly was.

The entrance and exit gates of the park loomed ahead of them, barely visible beneath a pair of lanterns at the end of the pathway they had been following.

"I don't know if you can help me, Dene, and I don't want to- " his words cut off, hesitating over what he was about to say. Remorse wasn't easy for him, but emotions generally weren't his thing. "I don't want to hurt you again." He finished his sentence, but kept his eyes locked on the path ahead, not sure that he could stand the look in her eyes if his words hit rang too true.

Deep down, Gehenna wanted to argue that she didn't know what she was getting into, but when he looked down at the top of her fiery head and saw the glimmers of her senshi fuku..

How could he argue it?

There was a strength in her that wasn't just Fiona, the woman he had wronged, but also Denebola - other worldly power layered onto the confidence she already held in herself.

A long, deep sigh escaped him, the sound of defeat and giving in.

"I don't know how you can help me, Denebola, honestly, but if that's a burden you're willing to shoulder then who I am to stop you? I know that just telling you no isn't going to change your mind." Yet despite his worry over getting her involved, over possibly hurting her mentally or physically, there was a small smile on his face that carried the traces of his amusement. As much as she knew his quirks, he knew hers, and there was no way he was getting out of this without her.

"Do what you think you can, just don't let my problems become too important in your life." He stopped their walk just before the exit to the park and turned to look down at her, one finger nudging her chin up to look at him. "Promise me that, okay? I'm not worth that."