AN: I'm so excited to be posting my first new story in FOREVER (Familial Eyes doesn't really count, as I wrote that years ago). Thanks to FloraOne, UglyGreenJacket, and Kasienda for their invaluable feedback on this story (and for their friendship. Seriously, being back in this fandom is so much fun).

A couple of things about this story. It takes place after SuperS episodes 148 and 149. Also, I use female pronouns for Fisheye, as I don't think Usagi and Mamoru ever determined that he's actually a guy.

I'd love to hear what you think!

What Wasn't Said Chapter 1

Chiba Mamoru stared at the open Organic Chemistry textbook on his table, rereading the same line for the fifth time. He tried to ignore the images flicking around the edges of his consciousness: the pretty blue-haired girl flirting with him, the cold metal shackles clamping around his wrists and ankles…his dreams. He gritted his teeth and read the line in the textbook a sixth time, and this time, it clicked into place slightly more than it had before.

This is what he had always done—thrown himself fully into his schoolwork when bigger, deeper, and more uncomfortable things were bothering him. He supposed that was one reason for his academic success; he'd started using school to cope with the loneliness he'd felt at the orphanage as a child, and he'd continued ever since. Whenever his mind was laser-focused on his studies, it was easier to drown everything else out, and, as far as coping mechanisms went, it was a rather rewarding one.

So, Mamoru continued reading, gaining a sliver of traction in the mental battle he was fighting with himself. He had managed to make it through three chapters, successfully having pushed those threatening recollections away, when the sound of his doorbell interrupted him.

He was surprised to see Usagi on the other side of the door so late in the evening, two to-go coffee cups in her hands. He hadn't seen her since…more memories from earlier that afternoon flooded back to him.

His chest feeling like it was going to explode as a stranger rifled through his most intimate thoughts.

Sailor Moon gently helping him sit up on the park's concrete sidewalk as he came to.

Usagi holding his hand and casting sidelong concerned glances his way as they walked back to his apartment in silence.

He had been so shellshocked, so emotionally and physically exhausted from the whole experience, that he barely spoke, just clung to her hand like a lifeline, and she didn't pry. She'd told him he needed to rest; helped him put on his pajamas and pushed him into bed, despite the fact that it wasn't even 5:00 pm.

When he had tried to say that he had something he needed to tell her, that it was the girl from the pet shop who had attacked him, that she was actually the enemy, he'd been so drained he could hardly get the words out. She had shushed him, assured him that he could tell her whatever he had to the next day, and he'd fallen asleep to the calming sounds of rain that had started falling as she slipped out the door.

He'd slept fitfully for a few hours, each turn of his head on his pillow punctuated by another flashback from the day: the girl cornering him on the street and trying to kiss him, the intense shame he felt as she buried her head in his dream mirror and freely looked at everything in his soul. She had torn through its contents as if she owned them, ripped through the walls Mamoru had spent years carefully building around himself. He had never felt so exposed.

However, after waking up and successfully immersing himself in Organic Chemistry, the memories had faded a bit. They weren't gone, but they were ready to be filed in the same recesses of his mind where everything else that was uncomfortable for him to talk about was. People had all over the city had been having their dream mirrors stolen, and, as someone who was sworn to protect those people, Mamoru felt he needed to get over his own experience with it. It wasn't a big deal, he convinced himself.

"Mamo-chan!" Usagi greeted him cheerfully, kissing his cheek, removing her shoes, and heading toward his kitchen. Mamoru felt his heart swell with the gentle contentment it always did when Usagi was near as he followed her. "Here!" She handed him one of the cups.

"Mmm", he murmured, smiling as the sweet taste of coffee and vanilla hit his tongue. Years ago, when their days had been defined by bickering on the streets of Juuban and at the arcade, she had teased him mercilessly when she discovered how sweet and flavored he took his coffee. It didn't match his boring personality, she had huffed at him.

Internally, Mamoru agreed with her. It didn't match. But then, sometimes he felt, neither did Usagi, her warmth and sweetness constantly dispelling what he saw as the darkness from his soul, swirling through him much like the vanilla-flavored coffee creamer that made his days a little bit better. He had shared this metaphor with her one day, once they had gotten together. She had blushed becomingly, and since then, always took any opportunity she could to surprise him with a vanilla latte.

"Thank you, Usako. You and coffee are always a welcome surprise."

Her back to him, Usagi dumped a box of petit fours, miniature cakes decorated with cream fondant and pink and green rosettes, she had brought with her onto a plate. Mamoru frowned at her demeanor. Normally, when Usagi was in his kitchen, even doing a simple task, she would be zipping around like a tornado, giggling and leaving mini zones of destruction in her wake. But now, she slowly arranged the cakes on the plate, her shoulders tense.

"Usako?" Mamoru whispered, coming up behind her and resting his palms on her shoulders. "What is it?" There was no mistaking the anxiety coming from her now.

But when she spoke, her voice was strong. "They went after me tonight. After my dream mirror."

Mamoru's arms tightened around Usagi's shoulders, guilt washing over him. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I…" She turned around in his embrace, pressing a finger to his lips before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm fine. It wasn't a big deal. That's not what I want to talk about." She extricated herself from his arms and brought the plate of petit fours and her own coffee to the low table by his bed. She sat down, and gestured for Mamoru to do the same. After he did, she took a sip of her coffee and swallowed. When she spoke, her tone was soft. "I want to talk about what they did to you." Mamoru immediately stiffened.

"You said it yourself; it's not a big deal," he replied, somewhat dismissively, nibbling on a piece of cake. "I'm fine."

"No; I said it wasn't a big deal for me. Me. Who wears her emotions on her sleeve and has no problem sharing feelings with complete strangers." Usagi gave a small, almost apologetic smile. "Still, it wasn't comfortable. Them prying into my dreams like that".

Mamoru met her with silence, not meeting her gaze, the images he'd tried so hard to block out earlier coming back to him with a vengeance.

Usagi scooted closer to him. "Mamo-chan," she whispered. "I was there. I heard your screams. I saw the look on your face." She placed her hand on his cheek, gently coaxing his gaze toward hers. "My heart broke for you." Her eyes shone with tears of empathy and understanding, and Mamoru found himself wondering, not for the first time, how it was that she was able to so effectively read his soul.

He squeezed his eyes shut, saying nothing. Usagi responded by wrapping her arms around him, attempting to cradle his large form as much as her small one would allow. She ran her hand over his back, up and down in time with his labored breaths. "It's ok, Mamo-chan. I'm here for you."

And with that simple gesture and supportive words, Mamoru felt his walls crumbling, as they so often did around Usagi. Trust her, his heart hold him, in direct conflict with his mind, which was still telling him to keep it to himself, to hold everything inside.

His heart won.

"Did I ever tell you?" he began thickly, even though he knew the answer. "About the one counselor at the orphanage?" Usagi shook her head. Mamoru pulled back so that he was facing her, and she took his hands in hers. "I had been to counseling before, when I first got there. That counselor had been patient and kind, and understanding of a little boy with amnesia. Then…I was maybe 10 years old, and I had started having the dreams about our past…about you. I hadn't made many friends there, and the dreams gave me someone who wanted to be with me, needed me, even."

Usagi squeezed his hands reassuringly.

"I think I knew, even then, that they were more than just dreams. They had hired a new counselor, and when I went to see her, I told her excitedly about my dreams: of princesses and princes and long-lost kingdoms and what they meant to me: hope that things would get better for me, hope for the future. She laughed at me. It wasn't unkind, per se, but she told me it wasn't healthy to focus on impossible dreams. That it was better to be realistic and focus on things that could actually happen."

The tears in Usagi's eyes began to spill over onto her cheeks as Mamoru spoke, and she traced a comforting pattern on his hands with soft fingertips

Mamoru's voice faltered, and he paused, taking a slow sip of his coffee. Usagi gently stroked his back as he swallowed, encouraging him to continue.

When he spoke again, his voice shook. "Looking back, I know she probably didn't mean it this way, but I took it as her saying that my dreams of things getting better for me were unrealistic. Childish. Silly. It stung, and I was never that open with anyone again. I focused on getting good grades so I could get into top schools. That was a realistic dream, at least. And I kept everything else to myself."

"Mamo-chan…," Usagi whispered, her tears flowing freely now.

"Until I met you. You, who, like you said, can share your feelings with anyone. It's one of the things I love most about you…and…it's something I envy."

"Envy?"

Mamoru nodded. "It's so easy for you to share—to show your feelings. You're not scared of what people will think. I've…I've gotten better at it, since being with you. I've shared things with you I never thought I would be able to share with anyone. But it's taken me so much work to get there. And it's still not easy for me. That's why…"

Mamoru's voice wavered, then cracked, his eyes filling with tears. "Usako…she saw things I've never told anyone. Things I've never told you. And she just…took them. Looked at them as if they were hers to have. And I couldn't do anything about it."

A few of the tears he'd been trying to hold in slipped out, and he reached to tug on a piece of loose thread on his carpet, anything to try to keep his emotions in check. But then, he found himself enveloped in warmth as Usagi wrapped her arms around him, fingers tangled in his inky hair, and leaned over to place light kisses over the tears on his cheeks.

Slowly, he let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He had never been this vulnerable in talking about his feelings with her. Had never cried in front of her. He knew Usagi's capacity for empathy, how she never judged. And yet, opening up like this had always terrified him. He never wanted to seem anything less than perfect for her, wanted to protect her from seeing the turmoil that still bubbled within his soul. But now, he let himself relax in her embrace, accepting the comfort she offered him, reveling in the relief he felt at her touch.

"Thank you, Mamo-chan," Usagi said softly. He looked at her quizzically. "For sharing that with me," she explained. "I know how hard it can be for you. And I'm sorry." Mamoru's eyebrows shot up.

"For what?"

"For not getting there sooner. For not being able to protect you."

"Usa, if anyone should be apologizing, it's me. For not being there for you today." It was an argument they'd had before, who exactly had failed at protecting whom, and Usagi opened her mouth as if to continue it, then stopped, seemingly having decided to change the subject.

"Mamo-chan…I know you said they…she saw things you've never shared with anyone. Would it…would it be helpful to?" When he didn't respond immediately, she quickly added. "Only if you want to." Mamoru swallowed. Usagi pursed her lips and looked down at the plate on the table thoughtfully. There were three cakes left, little squares of pink and cream that stood out against Mamoru's brown ceramic plate. "How about…we make it kind of a game? Three cakes. Three topics." Mamoru raised an eyebrow. Only Usagi would try to find a way to make something like sharing some of his most intimate secrets fun. He loved her for it. He took a deep breath.

"Ok. Let's do it."