Tauria: Well, I was trying to write for my other stories, but then had the idea for this. So I procrastinated and did this instead. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own SRMT.

Letters

Tauria

Scars Opening, Scars Bleeding

Nova,

I'm not and never have been good worth words – that's Gibson and Antauri's gig. I'm more of a show-not-tell kind of monkey. Actions speak louder then words, you know? In the time it takes to explain something, you could'a showed somebody twice and they'd already have worked out their own explanation as to how to do it. That's my philosophy anyway. However, there are just some things that showing doesn't do justice for, and you have to tell. And then there are things you can show, but are too scared to.

However, despite my aversion to telling instead of showing, I'm gonna do it in this letter. And in order to do that, I'm going to have to start at the beginning. The beginning of what? Well… for now, let's just say the beginning of some old scars that just won't close 'till I confess all this. And while that is down right annoying, I can see their point. I'm already feeling lighter.

Anyway, back to the scars. These scars are deep; they're painful; and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I just can't put 'em behind me; I can't force them closed; I can't do any of that. They're still there. They're still open. They're tearing me apart from the inside out. And the only way to start the healing process is to lay everything down on the table. All of my cards are going flat down in this letter. You can see 'em all. My whole deck, just laid face up, right for your viewing. You just tell me what you wanna do with 'em.

Let's start at the beginning…

.

It was back when we first became a team. Back before we knew what we were doing.

Y'know, when Otto broke more things then he fixed, and he was always falling off the ceiling and walls while exploring the inner workings of the Robot? When Gibson had more explosions coming out of his lab then when someone bombs a minefield? When I was crashing every other day because I couldn't work the Fist Rockets? When you were still figuring out the training room? When Mandarin wasn't such an ass? Hm… nothing much I can say about Antauri… he's still pretty well the same.

We didn't know each other – we didn't know Skeleton King. The citizens of Shuggazoom paid us no mind, and vice versa. The Robot was a mystery to us… yeah, those chaotic, never boring days.

That's when those scars first started opening. It was first a pleasant sensation… a warm caress. Back when you and I got along a lot better than we do now; we exchanged exasperated looks at Otto's antics, we rolled our eyes as Mandarin was disturbed by another explosion, we sighed as the training room didn't work, we laughed at my crashes, we shook our heads as Antauri disappeared.

I don't remember when I first noticed the change. At first, all I wanted was out. I was a freelance pilot. I didn't need the added stress of the Universe on my shoulders! People hired me, and as long as they paid well, I did as asked. Occasionally, I was chased by lunatics and had to fight 'em off, but I still liked my job. It was great. I saw awesome sights and got to meet and impress women.

Life was great.

Then I get this call, outta nowhere. It came from the Varons. They promised me big money if I completed a little job for 'em. When I checked out the total, I swear my eyes popped out of my head. There was absolutely no way I was turning this offer down. Whoever did would have been a lunatic, in my opinion.

They told me the first part of the job was to pick you guys up and take ya to Koroladol. So I did. And just to prove to me that they were good on their word, they gave me the first part of the money. Oh man, was I excited. Then they told us the next part of the job. Stay together, become a team, and protect Shuggazoom from some threat. It would take a while, but we'd get through.

This part wasn't quite so appealing to me. I wasn't exactly hero material. But I kept my eyes on the prize I'd get, and kept trudging forward. Then, we started hanging out. At first, you weren't my type. You were beautiful, sure. You were funny, yeah. But you were much too… well, not obsessed with me. My tricks didn't awe you – even the most dangerous ones didn't faze you; you weren't drooling at my time-perfected smirk.

I suppose that's what dragged me to you.

I'd never met a woman who wasn't fazed by my awesome, death defying stunts. I'd never met a girl who didn't blush at the sight of my smirk. I'd never met someone who insulted me. I'd never met someone who wasn't impressed by me.

I'd never met someone like you.

I was content to be your friend. I was content to have the same relationship with you as I did with the guys – with a few necessary adjustments.

And that all changed when Mandarin started taking an interest in you. He and I had always been rivals, so maybe it was just to rile me up… or maybe he noticed your incredible beauty. I don't know. Frankly, I don't care.

All I know is that for some reason, I became incredibly jealous. I couldn't hang around you anymore. I couldn't do it. Not with him always in the sidelines… not when he was making you blush, when he was making you smile, when he was making you laugh. Sure, I'd done those things before, but when you were with him, they were different.

I realized then that I felt more for you then I had for any other girl. All I wanted was for your focus to be entirely on me. When you're on a team of almost all male cybernetic monkeys, with only one female, you tend to get a bit obsessive. I wanted your attention all the time. I was like a puppy.

However, you rarely noticed me much anymore. In hindsight, I assume it would have blown over eventually. You would have moved on from Mandarin or Mandarin would have moved on from you… the latter did happen, if you remember. I was back at your side immediately.

I felt bad. If I had felt for you so much, why did I leave? I should have been there, at your side, like I always was. And I resolved that I would always be at your side. But soon, that wasn't enough anymore. I wanted more, but I was afraid of your rejection. So I came up with a cunning plan.

It would trick my heart into thinking you would eventually figure me out, but satisfy my brain to know that you probably wouldn't. I played them both for fools, if that makes any sense. I became the egotistical flirt you know me as now. I allowed the room for miscommunication, and went on my merry way.

That's when the scars started forming. At first, it was a gentle caress, and then it was nails scraping my skin. Then those nails drew blood. I didn't care. I shook it off, ignored it, and kept on walking. I convinced my heart you'd realize it by the time we defeated Skeleton King, and my brain was already convinced that my plan was working.

Then those nails picked up the knife, and really laid into me. But I kept it up. I kept on trudging, convincing myself every which way so that my heart and mind stayed appeased, and the whole time, more blood spilled. It became so much I felt like I was drowning!

Then everything that happened with the Fire of Hate happened, and you said those magic words; "I love you too much to lose you!"

The door opened, and I was no longer drowning. Regardless, I didn't ask about what you meant, and you didn't explain. I kept thinking about everything that I did and everything that I almost do, and that turned those knives into swords. By now, the floor is stained with the blood, and I shouldn't even be living anymore, but I am. The positive reactions you showed in the past to me are what keep me going… they have since the beginning.

During the war, the swords don't affect me as much… the scars are still there, but have scabbed over, waiting to be reopened.

Now the war is over, we're all on vacation – separately… the vacation together is being postponed for now – and you and I are separated. I'm traveling the galaxies, doing what I did once before and you're on Galaxia, training warriors. They'll be the best the Universe has ever seen… second only to the allies and us.

So now, only one thing is left. The hardest part of this confession… but you said it; or something like it, at least. Now it's my turn.

I love you Nova. With everything I've got. I don't know why it took me so long to say it, but there it is.

I love you.

.

I'd have really liked to explain all this in person, Nova. I really would. If one day, something ever takes me down your alley (maybe a positive reply to this letter? Or will you wait until the team is back together?) I will be happy to do so. For now, the letter will have to do.

Like I said, I've laid all my cards out on the table. You choose what you want to do with them. You choose how things are going to go now. I've said my piece. I've done my part. You're turn.

Again, I love you. I eagerly await your reply.

Sprx

Nova stared down at the letter in her hands. She felt the emotion in every word – felt the sheer courage it must have taken to write – and then send – such a thing. She looked at the tear stains on the page – not his, hers – and swallowed. He truly had laid down everything. His hands were empty. He had nothing more in his deck.

Now it was her turn. It was her turn to lay her heart bare, to tell him how she really felt. She couldn't keep him waiting for too long. He had already waited far too long.