[Knight] Nazca, Page of Mercury/Kent Kavanaugh | Page 4 | Journals: Powered Characters | Guild Forums

DivineSaturn

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Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 5:48 pm

For a while after Kent got home, he just sat on the couch, nursing a beer that he'd grabbed from the fridge. He didn't turn the television on, for possibly the first time in months. He didn't even turn on the lights. He just sat in the dark, replaying the events of that night, over and over again.

When the bottle was empty, he went to the fridge for another. And then he had a different kind of flashback, to something that had happened during his first year in college. Sighing, he shut the fridge again and turned the stove on instead. Then he filled the kettle and put it on the burner, watching the tiny blue flames in the darkness for a few moments.

He'd been an idiot. Such an idiot. But that didn't give him license to continue acting like one.

Leaving the kettle to fend for itself, he went to his room. His computer was always on, usually in the middle of some kind of homework assignment or personal project. An unfinished program was on the screen when the computer woke up, but he minimized it and pulled up the internet browser instead.

For a long time, Kent had just assumed that Tara was affected by what happened to her in the organ ring. While that was probably true, what he'd learned that night made him see that there was so much more to it than that. In his few weeks since becoming a knight, he'd been both physically and mentally assaulted. He'd had to defend himself from people who wanted to kill him. And from the looks of things, his experience was a walk in the park compared to what Tara had been through. War was hell, wasn't it?

After a moment of consideration, he loaded a search engine and typed in three words: 'nightmares,' 'war,' and 'help.'

The first result was a site called Make the Connection. Which told him exactly nothing about what it contained, and he had to wonder if it was some weird dating site he'd stumbled upon, but he clicked the link anyway. His fears were put to rest when the page loaded. It was a site for veterans, by the looks of it, and the page he'd landed on explained about the causes of nightmares, offered various suggestions for dealing with them, and included a list of places to learn more. Leaning forward in his chair, he started at the top and worked his way down, watching the short video clips of veterans talking about their own experiences, feeling a twinge of guilt every time something they said sounded familiar. Why hadn't he done this months ago?

A piercing whistle from the kitchen interrupted his research. Pausing the video he'd been watching, Kent left the computer, returning a few minutes later with his travel mug, now full of rooibos tea. He sipped it as he let the video resume, amazed at the similarities between Tara's problems and those of combat veterans.

But it wasn't that strange, when he thought about it. If she'd been doing the sort of things he thought she was, for as long as she suggested, she definitely qualified as one.

Once he reached the end of the page, he backed up to the search results. The second result was some stupid World of Warcraft thing. The third was part of a site run by the National Center for PTSD. Frowning, he followed the link to a writeup of the connection between nightmares and trauma.

One link led to another. Other symptoms led to causes led to treatment options. He wound up on the veterans' site again, watching more testimonials, spotting common statements and sentiments. Most of the veterans interviewed admitted that it was hard for them to talk about their problems with people who hadn't been through similar experiences. Many found talking in groups helpful. Others had better experiences in one-on-one therapy, or with medication.

By the time the travel mug was empty Kent had a better idea of the situation. Not that he was about to diagnose Tara with anything. He wasn't a doctor, and that wasn't his place. But it was clear to him that she was suffering from trauma-based symptoms. If only she could see that for herself, and see that as the problem, instead of her own existence!

The gears in his head began to turn again. Maybe there was a way to show her, without pushing her into a conclusion.

He stayed at his desk for hours, reading and listening and watching, until he simply couldn't take anymore. When the sun rose, not long after that, it rose on an exhausted man asleep in an office chair, with the imprint of keyboard buttons forming on his forehead.

Even when he was still, the gears continued to turn.

Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 5:54 pm

Active Hazards
[Nazca + Amphitrite]

Nazca receives tips on handling migraines, and doles out some advice of his own.

DivineSaturn

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DivineSaturn

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Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 5:56 pm

The weatherman had promised a White Christmas to the citizens of Destiny City. And while he still had a chance to be right, the night of Christmas Eve was gray and dreary. Not a night to be out caroling, or whatever people did outside on Christmas Eve. It was more of a night for staying inside with loved ones, curled up by a fire, protected from the elements and the world at large.

Except Kent didn’t have that option. Tara was still missing. That he now knew where she was didn’t help ease his mind at all. Now he knew that her being missing was only a symptom of the real problem. One that, in spite of his research, he had no idea how to help her with. This was too important to mess up. Again. Whatever he did, he had to get exactly right.

There was no way that he could explain any of that to his parents, though. And no way that he could go home to spend Christmas with them. The thought of another Christmas spent trying to ignore their mutual worst fears was unbearable. His parents hadn’t liked that decision, but short of coming to Destiny City and dragging him back home, there wasn’t much that they could do about it. Not that Kent really put such behavior past them, which was part of the reason why he didn’t go home after work that day.

Instead, as Nazca, he roamed through the city, not quite sure what he was looking for. It was no longer a matter of finding a person or a method of transportation. Now, what he needed was insight. He needed to understand what Tara was going through, in order to figure out how to make her understand him. But how could he understand experiences he didn’t even know about? How could he fully appreciate the agony she was in when to him, the war wasn’t so much a deadly conflict as it was an annoyance?

By midnight, as he walked through one of the city’s many parks, he was growing weary, both in body and mind. In the unlikely event that his parents were trying to ambush him, they would have given up and gone to bed by that point. And he was starting to get a headache, something that happened a lot while he was out searching for answers, but that he was still surprised by. Was he so bad at figuring things out that his head was actually crying out in protest?

When he heard an actual cry- more like a shriek- he thought it was more of the same. His mind playing tricks on him. But just in case, he started walking in the direction he thought it came from. And then running, because if that sound wasn’t a figment of his imagination, then it probably came from someone who needed help. He darted around trees and crashed through bushes, hoping to find the source. Which was hard, since he’d only heard the noise once.

Even when it occurred to Nazca that rampaging like a bull in a china shop would probably scare whoever it was, he couldn’t keep himself from moving quickly. Not when someone might be in trouble. Scenarios flashed through his head as he moved: a rogue teenager showing off their new powers at the expense of others; or maybe a hardened and frightening criminal pursuing a target; or even a big battleground, with no way to tell friend from foe.

Yet in spite of all his mental preparation, what he found still caught him totally by surprise. Crouching behind a bush, fiddling with what looked like a cell phone, was none other than Sailor Aquarius herself.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He was still doing research, to make sure he didn’t screw things up again. The plan was to go and convince her, once he’d written out a brilliant and inspiring speech, to come back. It was not to bump into her in the middle of what looked like a nervous breakdown. For the briefest of moments, he considered backing away, returning when he was better-prepared for the confrontation that would surely ensue. Then he chided himself for even thinking that. If Tara was here, now, looking like she’d just fought off a lawn mower, then she needed him. Now.

Besides, she had seen him, her eyes widening slowly. If anything, she seemed almost as startled to see him as he was to see her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice raspy. Like she’d been screaming.

This was it. The moment of truth. Nazca opened his mouth, only to realize that he couldn’t think of anything to say.

~*~

The phone wasn’t working. Nothing was working. Even running wasn’t working, since her legs had given out. The fact that she’d been able to run all the way to a park was impressive, and probably due to all of the practice she’d been doing at the Surrounding. But her leg was throbbing, and her lungs felt like they were on fire, and she crumpled behind a bush, hoping that the distance she’d managed to get would be enough. At least until she could figure out how to get back where she belonged.

Exidor was still nowhere to be seen. The one time she wanted to ask something, he was making himself scarce. Aquarius screamed in frustration and mashed the buttons on her phone harder, but nothing had any effect. She couldn’t leave, but she also couldn’t stay. Which left her with no options to pursue.

Dimly, in the back of her head, she registered a powered signature on her mental radar. Something low-level and good. Not Laney, then. Or Zia or Thraen or anyone she was afraid of looking like a wreck in front of. It wasn’t a monster- yet- or an enemy, out to eliminate her. So was there a point to trying to get away, knowing that her chance of succeeding was minimal at best?

She thought about it, rocking back and forth as she hugged her knees. Before she reached a conclusion, he came into view. It was the knight she’d met briefly at the Surrounding, which caught her by surprise. What were the odds of running into someone she knew, if vaguely? What was he even doing there?

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wincing as the words scraped against her raw throat.

The knight seemed to be surprised as well, and it took him a moment to collect himself. Aquarius could sympathize with that. “I could ask you the same thing,” he finally said, sitting down next to her.

It was the perfect opening to run away. Assuming she could run, anyway. Just sitting up was a challenge, so she decided not to try it. “I came for supplies. It didn’t go well. And now I can’t get back.” She shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“What about it didn’t go well?” he asked in return, dashing her hopes. “Did someone do that to you?” The knight gestured at her injuries, which she’d been trying so hard to ignore up until then.

Suddenly self-conscious, she covered her bare arms as best she could with her hands. “It’s cold,” she said defensively, even though he hadn’t asked about that. “There was a monster.”

That would have been a good point for him to drop it and move on, but he didn’t seem inclined to do either. “Where was the monster?”

“Why does that matter?”

He shrugged, his voice calm even though he was being screeched at. “I was just wondering. Was the monster here? Or was it up there?”

“They’re everywhere.” Aquarius shivered, not from the cold. “Down here, up there, it doesn’t matter. I thought it did, but I was wrong. Nowhere is safe.”

~*~

She sounded so tired. So resigned. It hurt Nazca to think about what might have made her feel that way, but he knew he had to press on. At the same time, he couldn’t put any more pressure on her. At best, she’d bolt. At worst, he’d do irreparable damage to her already fractured psyche.

So, a way to keep her talking, but without demanding answers. A way to be supportive, without revealing who he was. “I appreciate the warning. I’m still getting used to this whole magical hero business, so every bit of advice helps.”

She gave him a weird look then, like she thought he was making fun of her. “No, really!” he insisted. “It’s clear that you have way more experience than I do. I mean, how long have you been doing this?”

At first, she didn’t answer, and Nazca was afraid he’d said the wrong thing. Then she shrugged. “A few years, I guess. I was fifteen when it all started.”

If he hadn’t been sitting, he would have fallen over at that, from sheer shock. From their last chat, he knew that she had been at it for a long time. He’d suspected that her status as magical girl was somehow connected to her initial disappearance, when she was in high school. But it was one thing to have a hunch, and another to hear confirmation that she had been dealing with these issues for nearly seven years. And for most of that time, he’d been totally clueless. When he finally did put the pieces together, all he managed to do was scare her even more.

How could he have failed her so badly?

~*~

Her admission shocked the knight into silence. Poor guy probably thought he was something special, and then she had to come along and ruin it. But then, ruining things was what she did.

He rallied quickly, though. “That’s amazing. I never knew about all of this until recently. That must be thanks to all the effort you put in, keeping the city safe, huh?”

This guy wasn’t listening to her. “Nowhere is safe,” she repeated, hugging her knees again. “And it’s just a matter of luck that you didn’t find out sooner. I can’t help anyone, so don’t look to me if you’re in trouble.”

Aquarius expected her sharp words to scare him off. Instead, he cocked his head at her. “I don’t know about that. You’ve been pretty helpful to me, telling me all of this.”

“Then let me tell you something else- I’m bad news. A magnet for trouble. You should keep moving, while you have a chance.” And she physically turned away, hoping he would get the message. If he refused to listen, she wouldn’t be held responsible for the consequences.

~*~

There it was again, that self-loathing. Laney had warned him, and he’d seen it for himself, when he went to the Surrounding. He still couldn’t get used to it. Tara was always so confident, so sure of the path she took, even when it diverged from all the others. What could have happened to make her like this?

Nazca couldn’t ask, not without revealing too much about himself. He couldn’t ask why she thought she was such a doombringer either. But he could inquire about a more immediate concern. “What about you? Shouldn’t you keep moving too?”

“Can’t,” she said shortly, waving her phone at him. “It’s broken. Can’t go back.”

What a phone had to do with space travel was beyond him, but there was no point in pushing the issue. “You can’t stay here,” he said instead, looking around them. “Can I escort you somewhere?”

That made her laugh, which wasn’t the outcome he’d been hoping for, but it could have been worse. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Like I said, nowhere’s safe.”

The place he really wanted to bring her was home, but he knew better to suggest that. And bringing up the hospital would probably just scare her off. “What about friends?” he offered, wondering if Laney would have any better ideas. “Or… family?”

Her whole body tensed up, and Nazca knew that he’d overplayed his hand. “No. I can’t let them see.”

“I’m sure they’re worried about you-”

“And you think that my turning up like this will make them worry less?” Aquarius held out her arms, showing off the numerous cuts and scratches that decorated them. “They can’t help, so there’s no point in upsetting them. I need to figure this out on my own.”

“Figure what out?” he asked quickly, latching onto the new lead.

His enthusiasm seemed to startle her, and she wrapped her arms around her knees again. “Everything. Just… everything.”

~*~

Nothing she said was making the knight leave. She’d warned him about what a disaster zone she was, provided a good reason for why she couldn’t contact anyone, and tried to make it clear that she could handle things. Even though it was becoming increasingly clear that she couldn’t handle anything.

He knew it, too. “Everything is a whole lot for one person to work out on their own.”

There was no good answer for that, so Aquarius didn’t reply.

“And it’s clear you haven’t been having much success at it,” he went on. “Or you wouldn’t be hiding in a bush.”

Again, she couldn’t think of a response. What he was saying was true, even if she didn’t want to admit it. This knight was starting to remind her a lot of Exidor in that respect.

“And I’m sure your friends and family worry anyway. Especially if you’ve been hiding from them. Keeping your distance isn’t shielding them from anything, and it’s cutting you off from help that you look like you could use.”

That was more than Aquarius could let slide. “Don’t talk like you know everything!” she said shrilly. “It’s easy to talk big when you’re totally clueless. You have no idea what I’m fighting!”

“Oh yeah?” he shot back, his cool demeanor slipping. “Then tell me. Tell me what’s worth abandoning everyone you care about, just to live like a hermit. What are you protecting them from?”

Wasn’t it obvious? Hadn’t she given enough warnings? “I’m protecting them from me!”

“By deserting them when they need you most?”

The thought of being needed, valuable in some way, was absurd, and she gave a short bark of laughter. “Nobody needs me. They’re all better off this way, whether they realize it or not.”

The knight stiffened, his expression unreadable. “And what about you? Are you better off?”

~*~

Every new statement was another knife, stabbing Nazca over and over with guilt and shame and anger. He knew he couldn’t let himself fall prey to self-hatred the way she had, but it was hard when with everything she said, he blamed himself anew for letting her feel that way.

And the scary thing was that she didn’t seem to see anything wrong with what she was saying. She was comfortable sacrificing her own happiness and wellbeing, if it meant sparing others from the pain she was feeling. Was that really the right answer? Was he supposed to leave her to fight off her demons by herself?

He thought about it. And realized that she wasn’t answering his question. She was hesitating, fumbling with her phone again. “Are you better off?” he repeated, more quietly.

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, looking away.

“It matters to me.” And, he was sure, to a number of other people. Probably the only person who really thought it didn’t matter was Tara, and it was possible even she didn’t really think that.

She didn’t recant, though. “Why should it matter to you?” she demanded, glaring at him.

Their roles were suddenly reversed, and Nazca was the one facing a question he didn’t know how to answer. “I… It matters because I don’t think anyone should feel that way. Alone, and scared. There’s no reason for it.”

“Are you saying that everything I’m doing is meaningless?” The glare intensified, carrying with it the implication that he’d better not be saying that.

“Not meaningless,” he said quickly. “Just… misguided. There are other ways to handle things that don’t involve such brutal self-sacrifice.”

She shook her head, the glare melting into a look of resignation. “I’m done. I can’t explain anymore.”

“Because none of your explanations really make sense.” Anger and frustration were taking over again. If she shut him out now, she’d never take him seriously, and he’d lose his only chance. “You say you want what’s best for everyone, but your methods hurt you, and leave others open to pain that you could protect them from. So what are you really hiding from?”

~*~

He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get it. Aquarius wanted him to leave. She would have left herself, but she wasn’t sure she could get up on her own. Her leg was hurting, and while she’d been keeping her calves pressed together, to try and staunch the bleeding, she wasn’t sure it was doing any good.

The questions almost hurt more, and she put her hands over her ears to try and shut them out. “I’m not hiding from anything!”

“Right,” the knight said sarcastically. “You went all the way to space to not hide.”

Put that way, it did sound stupid. “You just don’t understand! Nobody understands! I don’t even understand, okay?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. That made it sound like she didn’t know what she was doing. Which wasn’t true. Right?

“Why are you making me doubt everything?” she said angrily, leaning forward far enough to push the knight away. “Just leave me alone!”

“I’m not making you do anything. But if you’re having doubts, you should think about them. If there’s even a chance that you can do things differently, isn’t it worth the risk?” The knight leaned in closer and put his hand on her knee. “If nothing can get worse, why not try to make things better?”

It sounded good, in theory. Easy, even. But there was no way it was as simple as he was making it out to be. If it was, she would have done it already. “I can’t.”

“It’s not easy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it. Maybe all it means is that you can’t do it alone.”

“Then I can’t,” she said, and that was the end of that, as far as she was concerned.

~*~

The books he’d read and the people he’d talked to had done nothing to prepare Nazca for this. Tara was stuck in a self-destructive cycle and couldn’t see beyond it. He couldn’t break her out, since that would hurt more than help. But none of his attempts at giving her strength to do it herself were succeeding. What was left for him to do?

“I’m willing to help,” he offered hopefully. “Even if nobody else is. So you’re already not alone.”

The only response came from Aquarius pushing his hand off her knee.

“I mean it. I know I’m not much, but I’m here for you. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who wants to help you through this.”

“Go away.”

What could he do if she wasn’t even going to listen? And why was she just tuning him out? Nazca found himself getting angry again, raising his voice. But what he said next was drowned out by a loud roar that made him sit up straighter. That sounded scary. And close.

Aquarius’ eyes were wide and she hunched over, trying to protect herself. “No. Not now. I can’t!”

“What was that?” Nazca asked, frightened for a whole different reason now. For some reason, he’d always assumed that the monsters that Noah had warned him about were metaphorical. Or maybe epithets for the savage teenagers who liked to beat up everyone they came in contact with. There was no such thing as real monsters… was there?

He looked at Tara, and found her looking at him. No, beyond him. “I told you nowhere was safe,” she said in a small voice. “They came for me.”

Slowly he turned, until he could see the figure behind him. Easily eight feet tall, covered with coarse brown hair, with savage-looking horns on its head. It didn’t look like it noticed them, instead focused on the nearby trees. It charged one, ramming it with its horns. The tree’s trunk shook, scattering the last of the dead leaves on its branches.

“You meant real monsters?” he asked, his voice rising in pitch at the word ‘monsters.’ This was not what he’d expected to deal with. Who could fight something like that?

Turning back around, he saw that Tara had curled up into a ball. She was shaking all over, and he couldn’t blame her, but that wouldn’t help either of them right then. “We need to get out of here!” he hissed, shaking her shoulder as gently as he could manage.

“I can’t,” she said again, not looking up. “You should go.”

“No. You have to get up.” If this wasn’t enough to get her to rethink her abilities, what was?

She uncurled a little, enough to stretch her legs out in front of her, wincing. Nazca looked closer, then recoiled at what he saw. “They already got me. I can’t run anymore.”

Aside from a number of superficial scrapes and nicks, there was a much deeper wound in one of her legs. Both of her calves were smeared with blood. How had he not noticed that earlier? What sort of monster could have done that to her?

“You should go,” she repeated. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

Nazca was scared, sad, and confused. But when she spoke again, anger washed over him, drowning all of his other feelings. And now he had an acceptable target, someone to take it out on. His eyes narrowed and he stood up. “I’ll distract him. You get away.”

It was a terrible plan. There was no guarantee that Tara would be able to get away in time, and no guarantee he’d find her afterwards. If there was an afterwards. But in his fury, it was the sole plan that he could see, and he was going to see it through.

~*~

Was that guy insane?

“Have you ever fought a youma before?” Aquarius asked, afraid that she already knew the answer. If he didn’t know that monsters existed, it was unlikely he’d ever thought about how to take them on. And as far as she knew, knights didn’t even have magic to aid them.

Sure enough, the knight shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on the youma. It was coming closer; if they didn’t move, it would trip over them soon. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself.”

“That thing could kill you!” she shouted, then clapped her hands over her mouth. Too late for it to matter. The youma looked in their direction, tilted its head down, and began to charge.

“Just go,” the knight said again, bracing himself for impact. An impact that had nearly toppled a tree, and he expected to survive it? Impossible! But nothing she said was having any effect on this guy. It was like he refused to accept the truth. Or like he was afraid to.

The realization that came with that thought felt like a gong going off in her head. Its vibrations shook her to the core, and the sound traveled to every corner of her being. Everything around her seemed to slow down as her consciousness shifted inwards. That’s me, she heard, a distant voice that she almost recognized. That’s what I’ve been doing.

Everything she had said and thought and believed, for a very long time, was a lie. A well-constructed lie, built to keep her from realizing that it was a lie. Because as scary as the things she’d been forcing herself to accept as the truth were, the real truth scared her still more.

There is something wrong with me, the voice said, a little louder. And I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if it can be fixed. I don’t know what to do. But I can’t do nothing anymore.

The gong went still and silent, and time resumed its course. In a moment, the youma would crash into the knight who was trying to help her. The time for thought was over.

~*~

There was a small part of Nazca’s brain that wasn’t running on rage right then, that could see what a bad idea this was. But it couldn’t come up with a new plan on its own, and the monster was coming closer. If he could at least take the brunt of the impact, Tara might be able to get away. He closed his eyes and held his arms in an X in front of him, as if that could stop a stampeding monster.

When the hit came, it was much lower than he expected. And from the wrong direction. It collided with him with enough force to topple him over, but aside from being startled and having the breath knocked out of him, he was fine. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. He opened his eyes and looked around, spotting the monster with one horn stuck in the trunk of a tree behind him. And Aquarius, with her arms wrapped around his knees, her legs splayed awkwardly on the grass.

“What the hell? What did you do?” Nazca sat up in a hurry and leaned over to make sure that Tara was okay. She wasn’t moving at all, and for a moment he was overcome with fear. Then he saw her shoulder twitch, and he relaxed- slightly. “What kind of stunt was that?”

It took several agonizing moments for her to open her eyes. When she did, she glared at him. “I believe,” she said, wincing as she spoke, “the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you.’”

The fact that she could crack jokes in this situation should have been a relief, but for Nazca it only added fuel to the fire. “You were supposed to run, not crash into me!”

“You would’ve rather been youma roadkill?” she asked, clearly irritated in spite of her exhaustion. It was a struggle for her to pull herself into a sitting position. She wasn’t even attempting to move her legs, which he found worrying.

She did have a point, though. At this rate he’d sabotage everything all over again. “Yes, well, thank you. Now can we leave?”

There was a roar from behind them, and he added quickly, “I don’t think either of us should pull another stunt like that.”

“I don’t think I can stand,” Aquarius said shakily. “You should just-”

“We are not doing that again,” Nazca interrupted, standing up and shaking out his legs. As gently as he could, he wrapped his arms around her frame and lifted. It was much too easy for him to pick her up, and for at least the fifteenth time that night, he wondered how he could have possibly let this happen.

Then the monster wrenched free, and there was no time for thought. “We’re outta here!”

“Jump!” Aquarius shouted at the same time.

“Are you kidding me? I can’t get away by jumping-”

“Just do it!” she insisted, clinging to his shoulder.

The monster was too close to run from now. So, since they were both probably dead anyway, Nazca jumped.

“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!”

~*~

Their escape was disorganized and frantic. Aquarius, looking back later, wouldn’t be able to remember most of it. It involved a lot of jumping, and feeling the breeze on her face. Being constantly jostled wasn’t, since she was pretty sure she had twisted her so-called good leg while tackling the knight, and her other one felt like it was still bleeding. And then things became a blur, until he came to a stop on a rooftop just outside the park and set her down on someone’s deck chair.

“That was wild,” he said, eyes wide, making her cover a smile with her hand. This guy was so new he hadn’t even discovered jumping yet. What a goofball. But his excitement quickly faded, and he turned to her, expression serious. “So.”

“I should go,” she said quickly, knowing full well that it was useless and not caring. Something was wrong with her. She needed to fix it, before it affected anyone else. That was what she was supposed to be doing all along.

Something about that felt wrong. The knight seemed to think so too, snorting derisively. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what that was all about.” When she didn’t reply- what was he even talking about?- he sighed and sat on the rickety table next to her. “You said before that you couldn’t help anyone. Then you pulled a crazy stunt like that and proved yourself wrong. Clearly you’re capable of more than you’re willing to admit. So what’s the problem?”

“I’m the problem,” she blurted out, clasping her hands in her lap. “Something’s wrong. I need to make it right. That’s all there is to it.”

“And you think the way to make it right is by running away?”

Aquarius could feel her face get red. “I’m not running!”

All the knight did in response to her claim was raise his eyebrows. Something about that felt familiar, for a moment, but she couldn’t make the connection, and then it was gone.

“Okay, fine. I’m running. But I have to, okay? I need to deal with this myself. Nobody else can get inside my head and fix it for me, and they’d just get sucked into it if they try.” If she explained it clearly, he would have to understand and leave her alone. Her logic was totally sound.

~*~

No matter how many times she tried to explain it to him, Nazca didn’t think he’d ever be capable of understanding where Aquarius’ mind was. It seemed so dark and so hopeless there. The opposite of the mindset he was used to associating with Tara. It was almost enough to make him wonder if they were different people after all, but by now he’d seen plenty of convincing evidence to the contrary.

“So, how do you plan to fix this problem of yours?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Non-confrontational. There had been more than enough shouting that night already.

Aquarius shrugged listlessly. “Fight it. That’s all I can do.”

That statement was very revealing, Nazca thought. “You spend an awful lot of time fighting, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied, with the patient tone of someone explaining the obvious. “I’m a senshi. That’s what we do, what we’re for.”

And what kind of life was that? Knowing that your existence was based on the existence of darkness that it was your duty to vanquish? “It doesn’t have to be all that you’re for,” he suggested hopefully. “You don’t have to fight all the time.”

“If I don’t fight, I die.” She didn’t sound upset. Just resigned. Like in some ways, she had already given up.

He didn’t think Tara ever gave up.

And that was the answer. Even if he didn’t- couldn’t- understand what Tara was going through, he could remind her of the strength that he always knew she had. The confidence and clarity that continued to inspire him, even when they were twisted and used against him. If his words alone couldn’t reach her, maybe hers could.

~*~

“You know what I think?” the knight said slowly, as if he was trying to put his thoughts together. “I think you’re so used to fighting that you don’t know how to stop.”

That was something Aquarius had heard before. From the therapist, the one who’d told her to stop fighting and everything would be okay. What a quack. “I can’t stop being a senshi. I’ve tried; it doesn’t work. Senshi fight. The end.”

“Senshi don’t fight indiscriminately,” the knight countered, frowning. Something was upsetting him. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be heroes, just mindless machines. They fight the bad things they’re supposed to, but not their allies.”

Was he forgetting who saved his butt not ten minutes ago? He was lucky she was too exhausted to slug him. Though that probably would have just proved his point. “I don’t have any allies to fight,” she said instead.

“No? You’ve fought me trying to help you out. Fought off your friends. Just because you won’t let people get close doesn’t mean you don’t have allies.”

“That’s not true,” Aquarius shot back, but her heart wasn’t in it. She could think of at least one person who kept trying, even when faced with a lost cause.

“And you’re so stuck in this ‘kill or be killed’ mindset that you can’t see anything beyond it. You know what I really think?” the knight asked, folding his arms.

Before she could even think about it, her mouth opened. “What?”

“I think that your worst enemy is yourself. Not because of whatever you think is ‘wrong’ inside your head, but because you’ve convinced yourself that this is the way it has to be. Fighting all the time, even against people who want to help you.” When she started to turn away, he grabbed her by the shoulder and refused to let her dodge his gaze. “If you’re so set on fighting, start by fighting the dumb rules that say that’s your only option. Make your own path!”

That was also something Aquarius had heard before. But where?

“With all the experience you’ve got, there’s nothing to stop you from winning any challenge you like. So why are you wasting your time and energy pushing people away?” As the knight spoke, his voice began to take on a funny, echoing quality, as if another voice was layered over it. “You can do so much more than that. Decide what you really want to do, and knock down anything that gets in your way!”

”Who cares if it’s not possible?” the other voice went on. ”I’ll make it possible! And don’t think that anything’s going to stop me!”

The final pieces clicked into place, and Aquarius’ eyes went wide. Before, realization felt like a gong. Now it was a cannon, shattering each of the poisonous thoughts she had been clinging to, leaving one certainty in their place.

“It was me all along,” she whispered, too shocked to even move. Even think. She couldn’t process what had just happened, and it felt like her whole body was shutting down. Which she couldn’t allow, it wasn’t safe-

Or maybe, finally, it was time. Time to figure out what unfamiliar territory her constant running had left her in, and allow herself to make new decisions.

Aquarius swayed in her seat, then fell over, as everything went dark.

~*~

Nazca hurried to catch her before she fell out of the chair. Something had just happened- something big- but he wasn’t sure what. Was it a good epiphany or a bad one? What was he supposed to do now that she’d apparently passed out?

Several minutes ticked by while he tried to think of how to handle the situation. Nazca absently stroked Aquarius’ hair, looking out over the park, then back at the senshi. Only to find she wasn’t a senshi anymore. There was the sister he’d been trying so desperately to find, wearing the same clothes she’d worn the day she disappeared. Even after he knew that they really were the same person, he sometimes found himself wondering if he’d made a mistake. Now, he could never think of Aquarius as anyone but Tara, and vice versa.

Though she’d disappeared in June, Tara liked to wear layers, so she wasn’t totally exposed in the December winds. Her clothes covered most of her injuries, but he doubted that this transformation was enough to fix them. She needed medical attention. By the look of things, she was long overdue for it.

There was, he knew, the chance that this wouldn’t solve anything. That Tara would wake up in the hospital, panic, and run off again. If she did, it would be harder still to bring her home for good. But not bringing her in would be like admitting she would never come back. And she really needed treatment for her injuries.

It was decision time, and Nazca knew there was only one option. “I believe in you, Tara,” he told her, brushing her hair out of her face. “So let’s work this out, once and for all.”

He picked her up with unsettling ease and started on his first rooftop run, heading towards what he hoped was the solution they both needed.

Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 6:00 pm

Her eyes opened on blankness, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure she was awake.

“Tara.”

She wasn’t alone, then. And that voice was very familiar, even though she hadn’t heard it in a long, long time.

Sitting up was too much for her to try right then, but she did manage to turn her head to the side. The blankness disappeared, replaced with the familiar decor of Destiny City Memorial Hospital. She could hear the faint beeping of the monitoring equipment, and the much louder scraping sound that was Kent scootching his chair even closer to the bed. “It’s okay,” he reassured her, keeping his voice low. “You’re okay. Just relax.”

The funny thing was, Tara actually felt like she could. The fear wasn’t completely gone- that would have been too much to hope for- but there was now a window separating her from the bulk of it, allowing her to see what she had to deal with, without being being consumed.

“How long?” she rasped, frowning as her throat scratched painfully. Screaming was hard on the vocal chords.

Kent stopped fussing with his chair and looked at her. “The doctor said you were brought in around one in the morning. It’s a little after seven now.”

So she’d only been out for a few hours. Interesting, but not what she really needed to know. As tempting as it was to let the question go unanswered, she knew she’d have to find out sooner or later. “Since last time,” she corrected.

There was a moment while Kent figured out what that meant. And then how to phrase it. “Let’s just say I’ve got everything on my Christmas list now that you’re here,” he said awkwardly, putting his hands over hers.

Christmas, or somewhere thereabouts. She had left- run away- in June. Six months, give or take. It didn’t really feel like it had been that long, even though her time in space had seemed endless. And if it had felt that way for her, what must her family have gone through? The last time she’d disappeared, it hadn’t been her choice. This time, all of the pain they had dealt with was entirely her fault.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shutting her eyes.

She could feel Kent squeezing her hand tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

That was weird. She opened her eyes again and blinked at him in confusion. Why did he have anything to be sorry for?

“I pushed you into a corner. That was wrong, and I take responsibility for my mistake.” He smiled hopefully at her. “Forgive me?”

Tara could still remember their last conversation, a little bit. The things he’d said had scared her, that was true enough. But at that point, everything was scaring her. It wasn’t fair to put all of the blame for that on him.

Besides, he was still waiting for her, after everything she had put him through. Not everyone would do that.

“Of course.” She cracked a small smile, enjoying the way it felt. “You?”

“Of course.” Kent squeezed her hands one more time for good measure, then drew away. “Mom and Dad are on their way here. And now that you’re awake, the police will probably want to talk to you, find out where you’ve been.”

The smile vanished. What on earth could she tell the police? The truth wasn’t an option, and she was out of practice when it came to lying. At least, lying to anyone other than herself.

“I know it’ll be hard, but don’t worry,” he went on. “It’s not your fault if you can’t remember who kidnapped you or what happened. Just tell them the truth and it’ll all be fine.”

That was a weird thing to say. Tara wasn’t sure what to think, or how to respond.

“They’ll be disappointed, I’m sure, but they’ll understand. I hear that a lot of kidnapping victims block things out. It’s a natural defense mechanism.”

It was like he was telling her it was okay not to have an answer. She frowned, wondering if there was some hidden meaning to this. “You don’t want to know?”

Kent let out an exasperated breath. “Of course I want to know. But you don’t want to tell me, do you?”

There was no good answer to that one either, so she took his advice and kept her mouth shut.

“And the last time I tried to force the issue, you had a nervous breakdown.” He looked at her pointedly, until she got the idea and her eyes went wide. “Yeah. Well, lesson learned, okay? I won’t push you anymore. Not about this, anyway.”

That was it? No way, that was too easy. There had to be a catch. There was no way he was just going to be okay with not knowing where she had been for the past six months.

“But-”

Ah, there it was.

“But I would like to hear about it, whenever you’re ready to tell me. Okay?”

It sounded so simple, when in reality it was anything but. Tara wasn’t sure she’d ever reach a point where she was comfortable talking to Kent about these things. She still felt that the less he knew about her other life, the safer he’d be. But in the unlikely event that she changed her mind… “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He stroked her hair gently, and she could feel herself nodding off again. Six hours of sleep was nothing, especially if her body was trying to recover from everything she’d done to it.

“Merry Christmas, Tara,” he murmured, continuing the calming movements.

Spending Christmas in the hospital wasn’t her idea of a good time. But it meant that she wasn’t running from her own shadow anymore. That was a pretty good present in its own right, she supposed.

“Merry Christmas, Kent,” she replied, drifting off to sleep once more.

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Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 6:01 pm

It didn't take long for Tara to nod off to sleep again. Once she did, Kent pulled the covers over her, patted her shoulder twice, and excused himself from the room, bringing one of the rickety chairs along with him. Passing doctors and nurses gave him curious looks, but nobody made him move. So he sat, staring at the other side of the hallway, and waited.

An hour later, his parents arrived, dressed in their holiday best, breathless from running. His mother leaned against the wall; she was never much of an athlete. His father practically shook him. "This is really on the level?"

"Why would I possibly joke about something like this?" Kent demanded, hurt that they would even think that. "She's inside, sleeping. The doctors say- well, you can talk to them. Nothing she won't recover from."

"Oh my god," Melanie said, close to tears. "It's a miracle."

Privately, Kent agreed. He had never been particularly spiritual, but that seemed to be the only explanation. That he was the one to find her, when anyone else could have. Or no one, which would have been disastrous. That they both managed to keep from getting impaled by youma tusks, despite her injuries and his total lack of experience. But mostly, that he had gotten her back to civilization, and she seemed okay with that. If all of that didn't make up one giant miracle, what did?

They turned to go in the room, and Kent cleared his throat. "Listen... she says she doesn't remember much of what happened."

Both of his parents froze. "Are you saying she has amnesia?" Gregory asked, his voice low.

"I don't think so. I mean, she remembers us just fine, and she knows where she is. But she says that before that is a blur, so don't push her, okay? Whatever happened was probably really awful, if she blocked it out."

Melanie choked back a sob and clung to her husband's arm. Gregory nodded thoughtfully. "Did she get upset when you asked her about it?"

That was a question Kent didn't want to answer, because it was one he'd never asked. But they would want to know why, and that would undo all the work Tara had put into keeping them in the dark. It wasn't a decision he totally agreed with, but it also wasn't his decision to make. Getting people to back off as much as possible was his way of apologizing for driving her away with his own persistent questioning.

"Sort of," he replied, the closest thing to a non-answer he could think of.

"We'll be careful," Gregory promised, patting Kent on the back. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure she knows you were just trying to help."

Melanie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, something she had to stand on tiptoe in order to do. "You're such a good brother, Kent. We're so proud of you. Both of you."

This felt really awkward. Their assumptions were exactly what he hoped they would be, so why did he just feel guilty? "Go on in, then. I think I'll go wash my face."

They nodded and went inside. He could hear his mother's gasp, followed by the sound of sniffling, and his father's voice, still robust even as he tried to keep his volume down. "There's my tough cookie."

He couldn't hear Tara's reply, but she must have said something, since their father started to laugh. Smiling, Kent went to the restroom, desperately needing a shower but willing to settle for some cold water on his face. And in his hair and on his collar, since he wound up being a little overzealous. At least his coat was safe, hanging on the back of the door, but when he looked in the mirror, he cringed. The goal had been clean and slicked back, not the drowned rat look.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself, reaching for paper towels to dry off as best he could. His hand froze midway to the dispenser, and he looked in the mirror again.

"What am I doing?"

Tara was finally back. This was what he'd been working towards all this time, and yet he couldn't feel any sense of accomplishment or closure. That he'd found her in the park was a matter of luck, or maybe a miracle, not the result of hard work. That she seemed comfortable enough being back in society was her own doing, and he was beyond proud of her for it. None of it was actually thanks to him.

Not that he needed thanks. Bringing Tara home had always been the goal, and now they were there. So why didn't anything feel settled? It wasn't because they weren't technically home yet. Home was family, and with the family nearby, she was definitely there. And it wasn't because he knew there was more work to do, making sure Tara was able to focus on her recovery, and wouldn't feel alienated again.

With all that aside, there was still one loose thread that he needed to deal with. "Nazca," he whispered, closing his eyes. "What about Nazca?"

He knew going into this that it was for life. Noah had warned him that once he accepted his duty, there would be no going back. And that was okay. To get Tara back, it was a price worth paying. He didn't regret his decision, not in the slightest.

Despite that, he found himself at a loss. For months, his only goal had been finding his sister and bringing her home. He'd never really given much thought to what came after that. Judging from what Aquarius had told him, putting down his life as Nazca and walking away wasn't an option. But what was Nazca supposed to do, now that he had what he wanted?

He opened his eyes again and looked in the mirror. As if summoned by his thoughts, Nazca stared back at him. Looking down showed him that it wasn't just a his mind playing tricks on him. He was Nazca. Would always be Nazca, even if he didn't look like it sometimes.

"But what does that mean? What's Nazca supposed to do?"

Neither Noah nor Laney had explained it to him in detail. If they had, he'd forgotten, too busy thinking about his number one priority to notice. Maybe that was the only reason he felt this way- he'd gotten into this for the wrong reasons, and he didn't know what the right ones were.

But right or wrong, Tara was still his number one priority. She needed him- Kent and Nazca both- whether she realized it or not. Before he tried to take the fate of the universe in his hands, he needed to prove, to himself at least, that he could handle being responsible for just one part of it.

Transforming was still hard for him. He either struggled with differentiating between the identities enough to make the switch, or he fell into one accidentally while his mind was elsewhere. He'd have to do something about that sometime. Exposing himself to Tara's friends probably wasn't the end of the world, but the last thing he wanted was for someone to get to Tara because he'd been careless.

Finally, the white and gray shifted to green and blue, the glowing lines replaced by flashing bulbs on what had to be one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters ever made. A gift from his mother, he'd worn it specifically because, as Nazca, no one would be able to see it. Kent shuddered and quickly put his coat back on. If she saw him in it, she might try giving him another one.

Nothing had really been settled. He still felt uneasy about his abilities, and unsure of what to do next. And he still looked like a drowned rat. Even so, Kent felt better. Maybe all he'd needed was to know that he was on the right track. And if he could convince Tara of that, this really would be the best Christmas ever.

Posted: Wed Dec 31, 2014 6:02 pm

The next few days were a blur of activity.

Her parents came, of course. There was a lot of crying and hugging and apologizing from all sides. They asked her what happened, and while they weren't thrilled that she "couldn't remember" any of the details, surprisingly, they didn't pressure her. Maybe they felt there was no point. Tara wasn't sure if she was supposed to feel relieved or frustrated about that point of view, but since she could hardly berate them for letting the matter drop, she decided not to worry about it.

The detectives who came to speak with her were less understanding. Judging from the questions they asked, and the looks they gave each other when they thought she wasn't looking, they thought she was hiding something. Fair enough, since she was, but she hated the constant whispering, the feeling that nothing she said was having any impact on them. The fact that, on some level, she was being perceived as a liar. Which, fine, she was, but there was more to the story than that!

When a TV crew from a local station came to do a story on her, a "Christmas Miracle" fluff piece, Tara couldn't take anymore. Just interacting with her family was more socialization than she'd had in months. Adding in the doctors and the detectives and the other people who just happened to be in the hospital, and she was seriously overwhelmed. Spending four days there felt like an eternity, but the doctors wouldn't let her go until she'd been fully checked out. Including, to her mortification, a psychological evaluation.

She still wasn't really thinking about the results of that.

Finally, they released her, with three stitches in her leg, a brace for her sprained ankle, and a regulated diet to address her malnutrition issues. Because her parents didn't want her putting weight on either of her injured legs, they rented a wheelchair and insisted she use it. Which was, as far as Tara was concerned, just plain dumb, but it was a small enough thing, and it made them happy. After everything she'd put them through, she could make a few concessions. Like staying in their hotel suite, where there was room for everyone, instead of going home like she wanted to. And wearing the stupid Christmas dress her mother went out and bought, just for her.

Two days later, she was starting to rethink that. It was heartening to see that they cared so much about her after everything, but they were seriously starting to suffocate her. So, claiming that the fresh air would do her good, she asked Kent to take her out for a walk. Or a roll, she joked. Nobody laughed. Things were still a little too strained for that.

"Did you have anyplace specific in mind?" Kent asked, pushing her chair down the street.

She gave him directions. He raised his eyebrows, but didn't question it.

They wrestled the chair onto a city bus. Tara watched the scenery as it zoomed past, still getting used to the feeling of being back on Earth. Even when it was supposed to be just her and Kent, there was still the bus driver and six other passengers. Plus everyone else they were passing on the street, everyone in the buildings that kept sliding by, and the buildings behind those, and behind those-

"We're here," Kent told her. She tore her eyes away from the window, but her mind was still on the people. So many people. And she had failed all of them.

The cemetery was quiet. Probably a universal feature of cemeteries, Tara thought, wincing as Kent forced her chair over the uneven ground. Grass and wheels did not get along, and she really wanted to just walk the rest of the way. But the one time she'd tried to suggest it, he just frowned at her. So she had ample time to stare at the headstones they passed, looking for familiar names, but not seeing any. Which wasn't surprising. How many of them had she really known that well?

"Is there someone specific you wanted to visit?"

Several names came to mind. Alistair. Hero. Mason. But what would tracking down their graves do? The people were still gone. She hadn't come to mourn any specific individual, but to pay her respects to everyone she had let down.

"I was supposed to be in one of these," she said quietly. "If things had gone just a little bit differently, I would be."

Kent stopped pushing the chair. "But you're not."

"No, I'm not." Tara sighed. "But for a long time, I've felt like I was. Or like it was only a matter of time until I would be." And even though she had stopped shutting the world out because of that fear, she still wasn't totally convinced that she was wrong.

She expected Kent to reassure her that everything would be okay. He didn't. He didn't say anything, and that made her twist around awkwardly in the chair. He was looking at her, biting his lip. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. That wasn't really the point." It was probably for the best that he wasn't giving her empty promises. And she was relieved that he wasn't asking if her feelings had changed. There really wasn't a good response, was there? "I just... this is all I can tell you right now. About why I feel the way I do."

"Ah." He walked around to the front of the chair and took her hand in his. "Thank you. That means a lot."

They stood, and sat, in silence. Tara looked around, fixing the images in her mind. This is not your home, not yet, she told herself firmly. Remember that.

Finally, she nodded. "I think I'm ready to go now."

Kent squeezed her hand before letting it go. It felt tingly as she gripped the arm of the chair, bracing herself for the bumpy movement. As they made their way out, she spotted a familiar name on one of the graves: Barrett.

Whether it was Hero or not, there was no way to know. But Tara still felt a pang, and she put her hand over her heart. I won't give up again. I'll finish what you started. What we all started.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"What was that?" Kent asked, shoving the chair across the last patch of grass.

"Uh... so hey, would you be willing to do me a favor?"

He snorted and pushed her onto the pavement at last. "I thought I was already doing you a favor."

"You are. Because you're an amaaaaaaaaaazing brother." Which was true, especially with how he was handling everything, but it didn't hurt to ham it up a bit. Tara clasped her hands in front of her chest. "Please? It would be such a huge help."

Kent rolled his eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

"Get Mom out of the house tonight?" Of their parents, Melanie was by far the more suffocating. Tara wasn't sure she could sit through another dinner of 'let me cut your meat, dear,' and 'have you finished your vegetables, sweetie?' without resorting to violence.

"How am I supposed to do that?" he demanded, stopping the chair again. "You know Mom. What could possibly drag her away?"

It was a valid question. Melanie loved mothering them. What did she love more? Civil war re-enactments. Lecturing about history. Dressing up- aha! "What about that big New Year's Ball? She'd probably love that!"

"Enough to abandon you on New Year's Eve? And what about Dad?"

Tara laughed. "Dad hates that kind of fancy party. We can stay home, and you guys can go and have a good time!"

"So my head is the only one in the noose." Kent sighed. "Great. Remind me why I'm even considering this?"

"Because you're the best brother ever?" Tara said hopefully.

"Don't count on it," Kent muttered, pushing the chair towards the bus stop.

As they moved away from the cemetery, Tara looked back. The new year was coming, and she couldn't keep dragging old ghosts with her everywhere. Maybe this would be enough for both her and them to be able to move on at last.

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Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2015 6:56 pm

Much to Tara's delight, Melanie loved the idea of going to a fancy New Year's party. She only needed the minimum of convincing to think it was a nice idea. "If it was more than a few floors away, I wouldn't even consider it," she said while surveying her wardrobe. "But it couldn't hurt to stop by and make an appearance, just for a few minutes." Which, Tara knew, meant she had at least two hours of freedom to look forward to.

Much to Kent's delight, Melanie insisted on bringing her husband along. Which wasn't the best outcome for his dad- Gregory Kavanaugh wasn't really a fancy party kind of guy- but he accepted this decision with the grace and resignation of a man who was used to it. Which, after thirty-five years of marriage, he probably was. With only a trace of reluctance, he dug his tuxedo out of the suitcase and sent it off to be pressed. "This is probably why your mother chose this hotel in the first place," he confided to Kent, who couldn't help but snicker. "She was planning to have us go to this all along, but of course nobody could have expected..."

He trailed off, and they both peeked out of the bedroom. Tara was stretched out on the couch, trying not to roll her eyes as her mother held various dresses up to see which one would be best.

"It might not be a bad idea for us to all go together," Gregory suggested. "Make an appearance as a family."

Kent winced. Expecting someone who had been isolated for months to socialize with people she didn't even know was just asking for trouble. "I don't think that's-"

"I'm not leaving this room," Tara announced loudly. "It's too crowded down there."

No one attempted to change her mind. They were still getting used to easing back into their old family positions, and figuring out how their roles had changed. There were battles that would need to be fought, eventually. This was not one of them.

Eventually, Melanie settled on a dress (black, with long sleeves and embroidery around the hem), Gregory's suit came back, and they went off to the party. Late, but as Melanie would say, fashionably so. They left Tara with a reminder to behave, and Kent with a reminder to make sure that she did.

Then they were gone, and Kent and Tara were left alone in the room, wondering what to do next. The television showed a holiday movie, on for one last hurrah, but neither of them paid attention to it.

What did you say to the sister who'd been missing, when you knew more about the circumstances of her disappearance than you were supposed to?

What did you do with the brother you'd run away from, in a misguided attempt to keep him safe, when running was no longer an option?

"Move over," Kent said.

"Make me," Tara replied, shrieking as he came to do exactly that.

Some places were safe, even when everything around them was changing in ways no one could understand.

They wrestled over space on the couch- Kent was careful to keep away from her injuries- and then again, over the remote. The point wasn't to win, but to do something that felt familiar, comfortable. They arranged themselves comfortably, Kent sitting on one side of the couch, Tara resting her legs in his lap, and argued over what to watch.

"It's New Year's," Kent insisted, "and New Year's means the ball drop."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Why? It's not like we're even in New York, so who cares?"

"Did you have a better idea?"

That was a stupid question, and Tara opened her mouth, prepared to show him how wrong he was. Only to realize that she had no ideas at all. It wasn't like she'd been watching much television before she wound up in space. It wasn't like she'd been doing much of anything before she wound up in space.

Catching up on a life she'd been missing from for six months was a daunting enough task. But she'd been missing out on life for far longer than that. How could she hope to catch up with all of that?

The lack of response was making Kent nervous. "Tara?"

"I'm fine," she answered automatically. It was just too much, too fast. One thing at a time, and don't worry about the rest. "We can watch the ball drop. I don't care."

That didn't really sound promising. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

So they watched the ball drop. Or, since there was more than an hour until midnight, watched a bunch of singers they'd never seen before perform songs they'd never heard of, that they couldn't even sing along to.

Anything would be awkward in this situation. This just felt extra awkward, but Kent wasn't really sure why.

"Were you scared?" Tara asked during a commercial break, not looking at Kent as she spoke.

And that made things more awkward. The truth would hurt. Lying would probably hurt more. "Yeah," he finally said. "Were you?"

"Yeah." It was too easy to remember how terrified she'd been, all the time. "I still am."

"Me too," Kent admitted. He had no idea where they were going from here, and knowing that she didn't either didn't make him feel any better.

Of course Kent was scared, Tara realized. This was the second time she'd disappeared on him. He had no guarantee that she'd stick around. And she couldn't give him one, not with the legacy she had to live up to. Just because she was allowing for the possibility that she might outlive her cell phone didn't mean she wouldn't have to disappear again someday.

But in the meantime... "I guess we can be scared together."

Kent looked over at her then, surprised, but pleasantly so. "I guess so," he replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it once.

They watched the rest of the show in silence, until the countdown began. Tara rolled her eyes when Kent chimed in, but grinned. It felt good to be going into a new year. Maybe this one could be different. Maybe she could be different.

"Three... two... one... Happy New Year!"

On the screen, people began cheering and kissing and waving. Kent leaned over and kissed Tara on the top of her head, grinning as she made faces at him. "Happy New Year!"

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, trying- but not very hard- to push him away. "Happy New-"

There was a sharp noise from outside. A bang, like a gunshot.

Kent looked towards the window. "Oh hey, there's fireworks!"

But Tara couldn't hear him. She was back in the science lab, holding a smoking gun in her hand. That she wasn't the one who really fired the shot didn't matter. Everyone died- was dying- would die. All because of her.

"Tara?"

"No," she whispered, putting her hands over her ears, as if that would drive the monsters away. "Run, it's not safe!"

When he felt her take her hand away, Kent looked over and frowned, feeling cold all of a sudden. "Tara, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer, but continued to shrink in on herself, like she was trying to hide from something. Her body was trembling; he could feel it in her legs, see it in the way she held her head. Her eyes were shut, and her expression was one of terror.

"Tara," he said, more sharply this time. "Whatever you're seeing, it's not real. Open your eyes."

She couldn't hear the words, but she could tell that someone was speaking to her. But when she uncovered her ears, she was immersed in gunfire again. Shrieking, she curled into a ball and waited for it to all be over.

"I know it's scary, but it isn't real. It's just you and me, in a room at the Umbre Hotel. What you're hearing is the television, and fireworks outside. It's safe, okay? Take a look."

It was a trick. It had to be. Tara knew better than to listen to the promises of the Negaverse. The last time she'd done that, they'd gone and blown up a building.

Talking wasn't working, not if she was trying to tune him out. Kent reached over and took Tara's hands, hoping to pull them away from her ears long enough for his words to have some sort of effect on her.

The monster had her. It was only a matter of time now. "No!" she screamed, wrenching her arms away. But it wouldn't give up. No matter how many times she got free, or tried to claw at the monster, it kept coming at her. How much longer could she keep it at bay?

Her nails had been cut short, partly because they were ragged when she turned up at the hospital, partly because the doctors felt that several of her injuries were self-inflicted. They didn't hurt as they dragged across Kent's arms and hands, but the fact that she was fighting him off so desperately did. Nothing he was doing was helping her at all. How could he get through to her, before she really hurt someone?

"Tara, it's me!" he shouted, pulling her hands away. "Look around. It's just us, no one's after you. It's all okay, I promise. Look at me. Just look at me!"

Tara opened her eyes, determined not to let herself be beaten this time. She could still see it there, green and scaly and waiting for a single moment of weakness. That was all it needed.

"LOOK AT ME!"

The world shifted. She could still see the monster there, poised and ready to strike. But something else was overlaid with it, blurring the edges, making the colors look more intense. She blinked, and the colors and shapes resolved into images she could recognize. A room with beige walls and burgundy drapes. The television, showing crowds of people. Kent, leaning over her, looking as terrified as she felt.

"Oh god... what did I-"

"It's okay," Kent repeated, trying not to move. Not until he was sure she was back in reality. "You're safe. We're both safe."

That wasn't enough to convince her, but she slowly let her arms relax. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." All he had were a few scratches that weren't even skin-deep. "Are you hurt?"

How could she answer that question? She wasn't hurt in the way he meant, not this time. But what about next time, or the time after that? How many times would she have to go through that kind of pain and fear before it was enough?

"I hate this," Tara said quietly. "I hate being broken."

"You're not broken," Kent told her, helping her stretch her legs out again.

Her initial response to that was a snort of disbelief. Hallucinations weren't a symptom of being healthy. "I'm not normal."

Kent raised his eyebrows. "You never were. I didn't think you wanted to be."

"That's different."

"Is it?" He shook his head. "You've always done things your own way. There's absolutely no difference here."

"I don't want this!" Tara shouted, knowing that she was taking her frustration out on the wrong person, and feeling too upset to care.

"So change it!" Kent said, his voice not quite matching hers in volume. "That's what you're good at. Take it apart, learn about it, and change it."

There was no good answer to that. Tara wanted to believe it was that simple, but she couldn't quite make herself feel that. If that was what was keeping her from getting better, she might never be able to fix things.

"Therapy might help. Next week, right?"

She wasn't convinced about that, either. Just the thought of having someone probing into her feelings and fears was almost as frightening as the monster had been, and it made her tense up all over.

Kent could feel it, and he patted her legs gently. "Just see how it goes, okay? One step at a time."

"I can't even walk right now." Which made it kind of hard to appreciate the metaphor.

"But you will," he reassured her. "And I'll help. We'll all help."

He really would, Tara knew. And so would their parents, in their own way. And maybe the therapists- it was technically possible. And her friends. The ones who still cared, anyway. Maybe soon, she would be able to open her world far enough to let them back in.

At least until then, she wasn't alone. Leaning forward, she nudged Kent with the top of her head. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Tara wasn't the only one who needed help. Next time, he wanted to be able to do better, to remind her of her surroundings without making her freak out anymore. He had a lot of work in front of him. But if she could do it, so could he.

An hour later, their parents came back, looking like a matching pair of wrecks. Tara had fallen asleep on the couch, and Kent, not wanting to move her, was channel surfing. When the door opened, he muted the television and turned around. "How was- what happened?"

"Some sort of terrorist attack," Gregory explained, while Melanie leaned on him, dabbing her eyes. "I didn't see much of it- your mother passed out from the heat, and I was in the infirmary with her- but the ballroom is a disaster zone. Several people were hurt, from what I hear."

"The hotel manager was horrified," Melanie chimed in, her voice weak. "He assured us these things don't happen often, and offered to comp part of our stay to make up for it."

That was a tiny sliver of good news in an otherwise awful report. That there had been a 'terrorist' attack so nearby was disturbing, and Kent knew he'd have to look into it at some point, if only for his own piece of mind. He only hoped Tara didn't learn about it just yet, lest she be moved to do the same.

Since the couch was occupied, Gregory sat in one of the armchairs instead, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "It was so strange. The terrorists seemed to be after specific targets, but why attack in such a public place? The police were there within minutes, they said. It seems like a waste."

Melanie smacked her husband on the shoulder. "Don't tell the terrorists how to do their job properly! I'm just relieved more people weren't hurt. It's a good thing you two didn't come." She walked over to the couch and stroked Tara's hair. "Everything was quiet up here, I trust?"

They would need to know what happened, eventually. But that might suggest that he couldn't handle things on his own. If they didn't trust him, they'd force Tara to go home with them, and she'd panic again. So, while lying was out of the question, he couldn't tell the whole truth either.

"We're both fine," he answered, truly believing it. "Watched the ball drop, saw some fireworks. Nothing the two of us couldn't handle."

And whatever came next, they'd handle that too. Kent just wasn't sure how yet.

Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 9:24 pm

"You're not ready yet, darling."

"Of course I am! The stitches are gone, so-"

"You just had them out yesterday!"

"Well, that means they're gone, right?"

"You're not fully healed yet. The doctors said to take it easy."

"They never said I had to sit here like a lump forever!"

Kent shook his head as he closed the door to the bedroom. It didn't take long for Tara and their mother to fall back into their usual patterns. Sometimes he wondered if they both secretly enjoyed arguing. Why else would they always end up doing that, even when they were in agreement?

Privately, he agreed with his mother. It was a little early to expect Tara to start walking around again, even on crutches, when one leg was still healing from a stab wound and the other had a sprained ankle. If she wasn't careful, she'd wind up hurting herself even worse, and that would just tick her off more. Not that she was willing to listen to reason at that moment. Not that their mother was known for being the voice of reason.

Aside from the hotel change hiccup, everything was proceeding smoothly. The initial therapy session had gone well, from what he'd heard, and the doctors said her injuries were healing nicely. She'd be ready to get moving again soon enough. All of that was promising. It also made Kent nervous, because he knew the real storm was fast approaching.

Tara wanted- needed- to stay in Destiny City. Their parents needed- wanted- to bring her back home. The battle lines were drawn, and both sides were looking to him for support.

Just the thought made him groan. Couldn't he just go fight another teenager for no reason instead of having to make at least half of his family mad at him? How was it that his life as a magical knight was less complicated than being Kent Kavanaugh?

The sounds of yelling from the other room faded. Which might have been a good thing, or it might just be a break in the hostilities. Sighing, he went back to making the beds. A job for the maids, technically, but he couldn't do any of the things he usually did to relax here. He couldn't putter around in the kitchen or tinker with the light fixtures. Doing mindless work like making beds and folding laundry was the best he could manage.

He pulled the sheet on Tara's bed back, and frowned. His sleeve was blending in with the sheet. But he hadn't put on a white shirt that ********," Nazca said, glancing down at himself. When had that happened? And why?

The doorknob rattled, and for a moment he froze, looking at it. Then he dropped to the ground, trying to hide behind the bed. "Go back," he whispered desperately. "C'mon, go back already!"

He could hear the soft squeaking of Tara's chair being moved into the room. "The matter is closed," their mother announced. "You should really get some rest."

"Putting me down for my nap? I'm not a baby, Mom."

"You're certainly acting like one."

Nazca could practically hear Tara roll her eyes. "Can't I rest on the couch, at least? Watch some TV or something?"

Melanie hemmed and hawwed for a few moments. "Fine," she relented. "But you're supposed to relax, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

The chair squeaked again as it rolled out, and Nazca let out a sigh of relief. His identity was safe, for the time being at least. If his mom found out, he'd never hear the end of it. And as for Tara...

At first, the plan had been to find a way to tell her. That was before he met Aquarius, talked to her. She shared things with Nazca that she'd never share with Kent. He needed that tiny porthole into her world if he was going to have any way to help her. And he wanted a chance to learn the truth, not just whatever she felt it was safe for him to know.

So it had to stay a secret, if only for a little while longer. Until she was in a better frame of mind. Until he found the information he needed.

He rolled over onto his side, peering under the bed to see if the door was closed. It wasn't, which meant he couldn't come out yet. But that wasn't what caught his eye first, or what really worried him.

Tucked under the bed ruffle was Tara's cell phone. He never would have noticed it if he wasn't looking there on purpose, and he couldn't understand what it was doing under there. It was possible, he supposed, that it had been knocked off the nightstand and got kicked under there. But he was supposed to be the only one walking around in that room, and he knew that he would have noticed something like that.

Which meant it was put there deliberately. Which begged the question: who put it there, and why?

"I bet I know," Kent grumbled, tucking the phone into his pocket. Which made him realize that sometime in the past couple of minutes, he'd changed back again. Any comfort he might have drawn from that was eclipsed by the realization that Tara was still shutting people out. If he left her to her own devices, how long would it be until she was running off to space again?

It looked like he'd be playing the bad guy sooner than planned. At least it would be good practice for the battle to come.

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Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2015 9:26 pm

"So I found this today."

They were in the room that they shared, finishing getting ready for bed. Tara stopped brushing her hair and looked up at Kent. Or, to be exact, at the phone he was holding out at her. Crap. How the hell had he found that thing? She'd even made sure it was off, so ringing wouldn't give it away!

"It was under the bed," he went on. "How do you think it got there?"

"It must've fallen." That was the other reason she'd chosen to hide it under there, even though it was a pain in the butt to accomplish. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation.

One that Kent didn't believe. "It's possible, but I don't think it's very likely. Do you?"

Tara didn't answer. She was so sick of lying, but she didn't like the truth. And if she didn't like it, he'd hate it.

"Why did you hide your phone, Tara?"

Or he would already know. How, she wasn't sure, but Kent had a knack for putting his nose where it didn't belong. Including under the bed, for some reason. "Why were you looking there?"

That startled him. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before delivering his non-answer. "Th-that's not the point. The point is that you're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" Tara asked innocently. As if that would stop the shoe from falling.

Kent dropped the phone on the bed and sat down next to Tara. "You're closing yourself off."

"Am not. I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"Barely. You're going back to how it was before you... before you disappeared." He fidgeted uncomfortably, not sure if it was safe to give her a hug or not. She could see him move in for one and think better of it. "Having you gone was terrifying. I was so sure that something awful'd happened to you. But even before that, you weren't in good shape."

Of course not. Her life had been a mess since her awakening, even if it took her a while to realize it.

Much as Tara hated to admit it to herself, Kent had a point. She was falling back into the pattern she'd set before she left. But how could she not? The situation hadn't changed significantly since then. She was still a wreck, and even though she was willing to concede the possibility that she wasn't some world-ending supernova, she still didn't have the right to ask people to get involved in her inner battles, especially when there really wasn't anything they could do.

Kent wouldn't want to hear that, though. He wouldn't like any answer she could give, so it was time for a subject change. Which made her think about something else he'd said. "You really thought something happened to me?"

"Of course," he said, surprised she would suspect otherwise. "You just up and vanished. What was I supposed to think?"

"But I- I mean, I thought..." Slow down. Play it close to the chest. "I asked someone to give you a message."

That made Kent tense up. She could feel it, just from sitting next to him. "That was a terrorist," he said slowly. "Why would I believe what one of them told me?"

Right. That was the right answer, exactly what Tara wanted: confirmation that Kent had no idea what was really going on in Destiny City. That was part of the reason she went to space in the first place, to keep him safe from all that.

So why was she feeling disappointed?

"Anyway, that's not the point." Kent took her silence as a cue to get back to their other discussion, which wasn't what Tara wanted at all. "You can't be hiding here forever, Tara."

She didn't want to hide forever. Just for a while, until she got things under control. Until she could talk to her friends without worrying that she would drive them away permanently.

He nudged her in the side, gently, to make sure he had her attention. "You and I both know that it's only a matter of time before they ask you to move home with them."

That was something she'd been trying really hard not to think about. Because it was going to be hard, even if she got her way. And if she didn't, what could she do? Running again wasn't an option.

"If you want to stay here- and I'm pretty sure you do- you need to show them that your life is here. But you can't do that if you stay cooped up all the time."

Damn it, why did he have to make sense? "I... I know that." Now that he told her. "It's just hard. I was... I was by myself, most of the time. Talking to people still feels weird." Especially when she wasn't sure if they'd like her afterwards. Kent was different- he had to deal with her, no matter how loopy she got. Her friends, though...

"I never said it would be easy." This time Kent went ahead and put his arm over her shoulders. "Just think about it, okay?"

That was a promise she was willing to make. "Okay."

"And quit hiding your phone under the bed."

"Fine." He was never going to let her forget that, was he?

"And remember- you're a lot tougher than you realize."

She supposed she had to be, or she never would have lasted this long. But she didn't feel tough. Just scared, and alone.

Kent pulled her closer, and Tara relaxed a little, letting her eyes close as she rested her head on his chest. Not entirely alone, then. And not entirely scared, either.

Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 11:31 pm

With Rows of Windows Facing the Sea
[Kent + Laney + Tara]

Kent puts his couch to good use and shares some wonderful news.

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Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 11:33 pm

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[Nazca + ********* is a jerk to an alien cat.

Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 11:35 pm

For several weeks after her return, Tara was barely able to think about senshi life. First she was dealing with her hospitalization, then with her parents, then with moving back home, and then with Laney's predicament. And all the while, she was supposed to be focused on her recovery. As if it was possible to really recover from everything she'd been through.

But if it wasn't, then she wouldn't be there. She had to try, and try honestly, or there wouldn't be a point.

So she put her best effort into doing things that had no reason to be frightening and were anyway, and though she hated herself when she reacted badly, she was surprised to find that those times were slowly decreasing in number and severity. It was a slow shift, so slow that she attributed it to margin of error at first. But eventually she had to recognize that things were actually improving. Finally, her life could be said to be on the upswing.

Which made her feel that she ought to be doing more. Which made her think of her senshi duties. Which made her realize that she hadn't seen her henshin pen since her stay at the hospital.

"Hey, Kent?" she shouted, stumbling as she left her room. Her ankle was totally healed, but her ability to pick things up off the floor was as bad as ever, and she winced as she stubbed her toe on a textbook. "Kent?"

"In the kitchen!" he shouted back over the hiss of boiling sauce, listening as she pounded her way in. She was upset for some reason; that much was obvious before she finished stomping in. "What's up?"

She was mad that she didn't have it. That was her pen, her link to a life that she didn't really like, but it was too much a part of her to let it go completely. But there was no reason to be mad at Kent. It wasn't like he was keeping it from her deliberately. "The bag," she said quickly, "from the hospital. With all my clothes and stuff. Where is it?"

Kent had to think about that one. When they'd moved back in, everything had been so unsettled that he'd just dropped stuff wherever. "I don't remember off the top of my head. Why, are you looking for something?"

"My pen. I need my pen." Even if she wasn't planning on running back to space, or a run across rooftops, Tara knew she needed to have it.

"All this over a pen?" Kent raised his eyebrows. "There's like fifty pens in the jar by the phone, Tara."

The fact that he didn't get the pen's importance should have been comforting, but she could only find it frustrating. "I need this pen. It's important."

This time Kent actually rolled his eyes. "C'mon, what could be so important about a... a pen..."

Henshin pens are what a senshi uses to power up, to transform. That was what the alien cat had told him. Was it possible that Tara was looking for that pen? It had to be- nothing else would be so important. But why now, when everything was going well?

"I just need it, okay?" Tara tugged on Kent's sleeve, trying to make him see the urgency of her situation, but also trying to avoid burning either of them on the saucepan.

"Why?" he asked sharply, trying to keep his face, if not his voice, neutral. "Why do you need it so badly?"

Had she overdone it? "I... okay, maybe not need, but I really want it." That was safe, right?

"Well, why do you want it, then?"

"Jeez, do I need a reason?" Tara demanded, hands on her hips. "Just give me the pen, Kent!"

If she was reacting this badly, it had to be that pen. Why did she want it so much? Was she planning on running away again? Or getting into a fight with a monster? Kent couldn't picture any good outcome from letting her get her hands on it. Not when her wounds were still raw.

"You want this pen for something important, you said?"

That was more than he was supposed to know. Tara realized how much she'd let slip, and knew it wasn't safe to answer that question.

"If it's so important, you'll tell me what the reason is. And if it's not, well, you won't mind not having it for a little while longer."

"But Kent-"

He held his hand up to stop her. "Are you going to tell me why you want it so badly?" When he got silence in reply, he shrugged. "Then let me finish making dinner."

He turned back to the pot, ending the conversation that Tara was starting to wish had never happened. If she'd just looked for the pen, she probably could have found it. Now he probably thought it had drugs in it or something, and would hide it- or worse- the next chance he got. Who knew when she'd ever get it back?

And is that such a bad thing? a voice that reminded her of Exidor whispered, making her shudder. But Exidor was usually right, and maybe the voice was too. Maybe it was okay to pretend to be normal for a little while longer. Even though no amount of pretending could make it true.

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Posted: Sun May 31, 2015 11:37 pm

Confusion Reigns
[Kent + Nysa + Tara]

Kent gets an unwelcome reminder that monsters are real.

Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2015 11:20 pm

It was amazing, how quickly things could get back to normal. Or some semblance thereof.

Of course, Kent’s definition of normal had undergone some shifting since he’d learned he was actually a cosmic knightly figure and his sister had been fighting the good fight since she was fifteen. But some things never changed. They still bickered over what to watch on televison (though he was careful to avoid crime dramas, since even mentioning those made her cringe) and whether she was staying up too late (which she almost always was) and how many boxes of Girl Scout Cookies to buy (no matter what Tara said, there was no way he was getting two dozen). They shared newspapers and told bad jokes and ate entirely too much pizza.

Not everything was the same, but things were comfortable. So comfortable that, at times, Kent forgot about the whole magical destiny thing. Most days, he was content to go to work, come home, cook dinner, chat with his sister, and call it a night.

On occasion, an issue would crop up. An article in the paper about a mass disappearance. Or a comment from Tara about her therapy. Something would remind Kent that he was supposed to be doing something else- something more- and his contentment would dissolve, replaced by a sense of restless urgency. This was the fate of the world at stake! He had to do something, and soon, or else…

Part of the problem was that he didn’t know what exactly would happen if he didn’t act. He hadn’t in a while, and the world was still intact. He didn’t know the people who were missing, or how to help them. He didn’t have anyone he could really ask, either: Laney was Tara’s friend first, and he hadn’t gone to see Noah since their fight. And he had no idea how to contact anyone else he’d met, or what to ask if he happened to meet one of them. Somehow he doubted he’d get a good response to “hi, how do you save the world?”

He thought about it, though. At work, and at dinner, and while reading in bed, or trying to. He thought about Aludra, off fighting bad guys when she was probably still in elementary school. (What did it say about him, that he left the fighting to little girls?) About Amphitrite, who had been so confused and distraught over the situation with her father. (Was he putting Tara through similar pain with his feigned ignorance?) About that one girl who tried to beat him up for no reason. (Hopefully she’d learn caution before someone she couldn’t handle came along.) And about Pharos, and how she’d given him the key to complete his self-assigned task. (She probably didn’t even know the difference she’d made, and he had no way to thank her.)

How easily she’d gotten them to space! Just with a few words, and woosh! Kent put his book aside, keeping a finger in it to mark his spot, and tried to remember what she’d said. Something about Pharos- that was her- and Chronos- where her lighthouse was. He still couldn’t believe that he was really tied to Mercury in the same way she was tied to the place of rainbow roads, but he had no real reason to disbelieve her, either.

“So for me,” he said to himself, “it would be… what was it?” He rolled over, so focused on remembering that he failed to notice the green sleeve of his silk pajamas shift into brilliant white. “I pledge my life and loyalty to… Mercury, and to Nazca.” That sounded right. Then there was just the rest: “I humbly request your aid, so that in return I may give you mine-”

The book closed silently, as the person holding it was suddenly whisked away.

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Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2015 11:21 pm

Precipitate
[Kent/Nazca]

Kent travels to Nazca, where the first thing he learns is what not to do.

Welcome to Gaia! ::

Gaia Guilds

♥ In the Name of the Moon! ♥

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