So I made major revisions to this story as of today May 8th, which hey, it surprised me too since I kinda thought it had been abandoned a while ago. But why not? It's finals week and I've only got studying to do anyhow; might as well write fanfiction.

I don't own Sailor Moon or the characters herein, yadda yadda yadda. I just wanna pass my finals. Let me know what you think.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Saturn felt sick. She felt betrayed. She felt stupid.

They had used her. No remorse. No apology for destroying the closest thing to a family Saturn had every known. She had thought that she meant something to them, after the months they had lived together, the meals they had shared, the bedtime stories they had told her…

Saturn had been taught, by her real momma many years ago, that bedtime stories were supposed to mean something. They might only be good for a happy ending, but at least they left you with the promise that in the end – no matter how bad things look – it will turn out all right. But, she supposed, happy endings were harder to come by in the real world than at her bedside.

Then again, she thought, maybe they never existed in the first place. After all, if people like them could tell bedtime stories one night, then destroy your entire life the next, perhaps they had been lying the whole time. It was always a possibility.

Beside where she stood, Pluto lay crumpled on the floor, broken. They had always assumed that Pluto was omniscient, foolish though it may have been. She always had the answers, whether it was a heads up on the battle field or a reminder that the toast was about to burn in the morning. Pluto just always knew. But to see her now was crushing, demoralizing to the faith Saturn had placed in her. It's a shame, Saturn thought, that after all the thousands of years she's lived, this is the end for her. It would be the end for Saturn, too, not that she wasn't trying hard to forget it.

It had come down to the four of them eventually. The Princess had disappeared and Saturn was not entirely sure she had survived. The guardian senshi had been destroyed early on, and honestly, how could the Princess hope to match up to Galaxia's power? There really was no way the naïve girls had a hope of survival. There was years of experience and utter ruthless determination on their side, and a big gaping void where the weakness called a "soul" used to reside. It had been pathetically sad to see them die, almost like drowning kittens.

There was nowhere to turn, and Saturn, the Senshi of Destruction, was sure she would face her death – her final death – this time. As if betrayal by the last people imaginable wasn't cruelly ironic enough…

Saturn felt a light pressure on her arm and turned to find Pluto's weak grip struggling to get her attention. Pluto had taken the betrayal harshly. As usual, the oldest senshi never gave any clue to her thoughts, but Saturn could tell. She could see how the betrayal had cut her deeply. Saturn wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault they had been betrayed; it wasn't her fault their team had fallen apart; it wasn't her fault they were too blind to see it coming. But some things she just didn't know how to say when she couldn't convince herself of it either. As much as she wanted to deny it, they were guilty. They shared the blood their teammates had spilled…

"Saturn," Pluto whispered. "Just take my hand. Don't be afraid." Saturn wanted to scoff at this gesture, to reply she most certainly wasn't. Saturn feared nothing – least of all death. Death was her servant. It wasn't her fault she couldn't stop trembling, it was freezing cold in this vast expanse of nothingness. It was cold – nothing more. Never fear.

"I'm glad we're together," she said instead. For it was the truth. There was comfort in the fact that, even in this dark hour, there was still two of them. She would never again be alone – not like before. In her last moments, she would be with Setsuna-mama. Saturn slipped her small hand into Pluto's and felt the shaking subside…warm, so warm. Pluto smiled one of her rare, true smiles – the sort that almost seemed to erase the sadness from her eyes. "So am I, Hotaru-chan."

There was a flicker of movement as one of them moved forward. Pluto pulled Saturn into a tight hug, shielding the younger girl. Saturn shut her eyes tight. She did not want to see her death.

There was a shout, a bright light and then darkness for a very long time.

Gradually, it began to lighten. She was aware of someone holding her and a feeling of disembodiment, as though she were floating. She supposed it made sense; after all, they had died.

She wriggled a little in the other's hold in order to see what the afterlife was like. She had never been dead like this before. It occurred to Saturn that she had never died before. Hotaru had died once upon a time, and the memories were there, shared between her two lives. But this was not like Horatu's death. It was new, and not only a little frightening.

There was still a great deal of darkness all around them, but it was pierced by stars shining with miniscule lights, trying futilely to bring order to this bleak expanse. There was no floor or ceiling. There was no anything for that matter. It was a void.

She looked up to see Pluto, who still held her small form in her arms. She had not let go since…since before. She was quite still, despite the firm grip she still had around the girl's waist.

"Pluto," she whispered. "Setsuna-mama, wake up." There was no answer, and Saturn became worried. She did not like this darkness; it was too open and wide. It was too lonely. Pluto was with her, but in this gloomy void, Saturn felt like she had in the days before…before Nothing felt right here and with Pluto not responding, Saturn had no one to turn to. She had never had such doubts before; the answer was always clear. There had always been one Ultimate Solution. And now – dead – she had been ripped of even that alternative.

If only Pluto could help…

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she had not noticed the appearance of a single ornamented door in the vacuum until she drifted directly by it.

It was large and incredibly detailed with woodwork around the edges. Saturn felt something pull at her insides as she stared at it. Something ancient was calling to her…

She rested her hand on it to slow herself and Pluto down. She felt a shuddering cold come over her and knew immediately that this was no afterlife. This feeling; she knew this feeling from somewhere. It was the creep of cold when she looked into Pluto's eyes. It was the bitter taste of Pluto's words when she spoke of her duty. It was…

Pluto jerked awake with a cough, releasing Saturn in the process. The air rattled through her lungs as though it was her first breath after a deep dive into freezing water.

"Setsuna-mama? Are you ok?" the girl asked tentatively. Pluto didn't hear her over her own gasping breaths. Saturn tentatively rested a hand on her shoulder and almost immediately Pluto began to relax.

"I'm ok, Hotaru-chan," Pluto finally answered, gasping between each word. "I just – I just had to catch my breath." Saturn didn't find this remark soothing in the least.

"I don't understand, Setsuna-mama. Where are we? What happened? Didn't we…" She couldn't finish the thought. It was too painful to say aloud.

"No. Or at least you didn't. I on the other hand…" She trailed off, leaving the unsaid words hanging in the air.

"You…died?" This was absurd to Saturn. Pluto lived forever. As far as she could remember, Pluto had always been the one and only. She didn't die.

"That is the price I pay for certain opportunities." Again there was the cold shadow in her eyes, and Saturn wondered how far the pain of her position went. "But it has been solved. See? I am alive and so are you. I must say though, this was not nearly as long of a wait as before…Things must be serious. The future is threatened; not just ours and the princess' but the entire galaxy's as well."

She looked down at the young girl. "I will not fool you, Hotaru. This war with Galaxia is more serious than even I could foresee. Earth holds no sanctuary for us, as well as our own fortresses at the further reaches of the system. There is no going back.

"There is nothing to go back to."