Bleed (Just to Know You're Alive)
Chapter 6
//anything between slashes are thoughts//
----
It was surprising to Malachi, who had not yet recovered from the quick blood drain from his face, that Mamoru looked more angry than afraid of the very large sharp thing poised right atop his jugular. One wrong move, one breath too big, and it would all be over. But his prince looked positively livid, which was not a particularly enjoyable thing to be positioned under.
Mamoru gritted his teeth. How was he going to get Harmony away from Malachi without having his own head sliced off? There were a lot of things the Golden Crystal could fix, but being beheaded was not one of them. At least, he was pretty sure about that. He didn't really want to experiment to find out.
Of course, there was one thing he could try. But would it actually be possible? Certainly, he had picked up quite a few new tricks since he had started using his crystal, but that did not mean he could manage this. Although, it would not necessarily require him to do it well, merely to do it fast. It was worth a shot, in any case.
"Teddykins n' I were so happy to come play with you. Too bad we have to cut it short." Harmony adjusted her grip on the handle of the huge Glaive, preparing to swing it in such a way that it would slice through his throat in a single, clean arc.
Malachi felt his blood run cold as he watched Mamoru close his eyes. //He's just going to let it happen... After all that, he's going to die after all...//
"Goodbye, Mister."
"PRINCE!" Four voices screamed simultaneously as the giant blade came swinging down...
Only to strike empty air.
"Looks like you missed." Mamoru smirked, standing on top of Malachi's bed as though he'd totally meant to get up there. "Malachi, move!"
The white-haired man didn't hesitate. He rolled to the right, avoiding a collision with a very pointy Glaive, just as a black-haired denim blur lept into the air and on the small child.
Harmony let out an ear-piercing screech as a very large body came crashing down on top of her. "That -hurts-! I'll show you not to roughhouse with me!"
"No, you won't." Grabbing her by the pigtails, Mamoru hoisted her to her feet and then quickly teleported outside. He wasn't taking the chance of going through yet another window.
"Let go of me, you big meanie head!" Harmony tried to wrench her pigtails out of his grip, but when she failed to escape Mamoru's strong hands she took a swing at him with her Glaive. He dodged just in time, giving her a small shove as he released her hair to throw her off-balance.
As the little girl stumbled back, Mamoru suddenly found himself surrounded by four brown capes. Kunzite smirked at him. "I see you've finally figured out teleportation."
Mamoru smirked back. "I'm still not done with you yet."
"We can finish our little conversation later."
"Oh good, so I can continue kicking your ass."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
"Look, save the bedroom banter for after, okay?" Nephrite muttered, watching the little lacey girl with an evil look. She wasn't going to get close enough to do any more potential damage, not while he was standing.
Harmony stomped her feet angrily. "You're mean! It was supposed to be clean and quick and now you've made it all complicated!"
"Stop moaning and start fighting, pipsqueak!" Zoisite snapped angrily.
"Fine!" The little girl charged at Zoisite, wildly brandishing her Glaive.
Expecting her attack, Zory shot his hand out, and suddenly felt himself being engulfed by flames as a giant fiery bird materialized above his head. Harmony let out a scream and ducked, covering her head, as the blazing bird soared towards her, miniscule flames dropping from its massive eagle-like wings like burning feathers. Or rather, like flaming flower petals.
The little bursts of flame lit her outfit on fire, and she frantically tried to smother each before she was burned to a crisp.
"Here, let me put that out for you!" Jadeite called, putting out his hand. A familiar water dragon sprang forth, soaking the little girl to the bone and slamming her into the pavement still faintly bloody from previous encounters.
"Dead Scream."
Before you could say "get down," Nephrite and Kunzite had immediately thrown themselves on top of Mamoru in an effort to protect him. The main result of this was their prince going, "Ow."
"Do I need to remind you guys how heavy you are?" he groaned from his rather squished position on the ground.
"Oi, show a little gratitude for the people who are protecting you," Nephrite grumbled, sounding a tad insulted.
"Protecting me doesn't mean crushing me, but thanks anyway."
"Thought you'd get off easy, didn'cha Prince?" Sanura sneered, pointing her Time Key replica at them. "We're not quite finished with ya yet."
"Oh good. Here I was, afraid you'd forgotten all about me."
"What's the plan?" Zoisite hissed, leaning over to Kunzite. "It's two against four, but that blonde is still missing in action, and I don't want to run the risk that they have any more friends."
"Lead those two away from the prince. Nephrite and Jadeite can keep him covered for now," the leader whispered back. "The further away the sharp implements, the better off he is."
"Fine with me."
Kunzite turned to face Sanura, suppressing a grin as behind him he heard the distinct roar of a fire bird flaring up, and the subsequent scream of the little girl.
Sanura snorted, subconsciously adjusting her leather outfit. "Looks like the Prince got hisself some friends. Not that it'll matter much. Garnet Ball!"
Kunzite sneered at the woman before him. "My turn," he growled viciously. Without so much as a blink, his eyes went from green to bright, glowing silver. Shadows undulated around him, seeming to plunge the entire world into darkness like a sudden eclipse. In the thick, murky blackness some great thing was shifting. Only a few glimpses of the shadowy beast could be seen through the darkness--the huge faintly glistening scales upon a curved black shell, the tip of an enormous winglike fin, a single eye, glowing with that same penetrating silver light.
"Jadeite?" Nephrite said quietly, gently knocking heads with his blonde friend. "Did he just create a really big turtle?"
"Uh huh," Jadeite confirmed eloquently.
It was, in actuality, a tortoise, but considering Nephrite probably hadn't seen one in quite a number of years, Mamoru figured it wasn't necessary to clarify. But a tortoise it was indeed, shining faintly like well-polished obsidian, obscuring ninety percent of the light that should have been present so early in the day. It was enormous, dwarfing all of the fighters assembled on the playground, the streetlights, the trees, and even the frathouse. With all the grace that thousands of years of the evolutionary equivalent of gold stars and happy faces provide, the giant creature opened its cavernous mouth, inside of which were positively thousands of brilliant, pin-pricked sized glimmers of light. With one quick "snap," it swallowed Sanura whole, which was succeeded by an enraged scream.
"Am I ever glad I'm on your good side," Zoisite muttered, eyeing the white-haired man in a mixture of wariness and awe.
The massive tortoise arched its head upwards towards the sky, its scaly onyx skin shining as it moved, the barely-visible beak turned up in a sort of solemn smile; grinning as only a tortoise can. With as little fanfare as had accompanied its appearance, the mammoth creature vanished in a gust of broken shadows, leaving a battered Sanura in its wake.
"That thing's gonna give me nightmares now," Jadeite said with a shudder. "That's freaking creepy, Kunzite."
Kunzite grinned, the silver glow fading from his eyes. "Thank you."
Harmony blinked as daylight once again returned, only to find a smirking Zoisite standing over her. Sparks danced in the palm of his hand, ready to regenerate the terrifying bird. "Ready to continue our game, love?"
"Get away from me!" she yelled, trying to club the blonde over the head with the business end of her Glaive. Thinking fast, Zoisite fell onto his back and swiped the little girl's feet out from under her with his own.
"Yer a feisty one," Sanura wheezed, failing in an attempt to get to her feet. "Didn't expect to get knocked down by a tortoise."
"They never do," Kunzite said, smirking.
"Naw, I s'pose not," she panted heavily, leaning awkwardly on her staff. Suddenly she leapt up with an eloquent "NNGAAA!", Time Key swinging, and clubbed him in the jaw. "Didn't expect that, didja?"
Kunzite stumbled briefly from the unexpected blow, but recovered almost immediately. "No, I didn't," he answered, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. She smirked, taking a second swing, but he was more than prepared this time, and easily blocked the blow with his arm before neatly planting an armoured knee in her stomach.
"What am I supposed to do, just stand here?" Mamoru asked irritably, not used to just sitting back and watching his friends fight for him.
"Well, it's somewhat better than getting your head chopped off, Prince," Nephrite answered, keeping a careful lookout for anything that could endanger his Prince.
"Hey, I'm not used to being on this end of the fight. I mean, my job is usually 'Jump In Front of Pointy Things Headed for Sailor Moon.' Or 'Get Brainwashed and Die, Not Necessarily at the Same Time.'"
"Get used to it, Prince!" Zoisite shouted, barely escaping a transformation into two very dead halves, courtesy Harmony. "You're the Sailor Moon of this fivesome, and you're just going to sit back until it's time for you to pull out your metaphorical wand and shower us in metaphorical sparkles!"
Mamoru testily crossed his arms. "As long as I'm not expected to wear a skirt and tie my hair up in pigtails."
"Not unless we get you really drunk first." Jadeite flashed him a quick smirk, before again turning his attention outward. He looked even more edgy than Mamoru about standing back while the other two fought, and eventually resolved his tension by calling up his dragon and allowing it to pace around the three, swimming in lazy arcs and swoops through the air.
Mamoru watched the fight in a most fidgety sort of way, taking in sharp breathes any time Zoisite or Kunzite took a blow. As though the idea had just come about, he finally transformed, his dingy, bloodied shirt and jeans morphing into an all-familiar tuxedo. He idly though about changing those clothes soon, perhaps at a moment when his life wasn't hanging in the balance.
"Dead Scream."
Jadeite's water dragon swooped down, knocking away the potent ball of energy before it could even get halfway to Kunzite. Unfortunately, as the dragon dissipated, it knocked the attack in another direction, and sent it straight at the two guardians and their Prince.
Seeing that they had no time, Nephrite grabbed Mamoru by the arm and threw him forcefully aside. He hadn't even landed on the grass when he heard the dual shouts of pain.
Jadeite was forcibly slammed on his back, but Nephrite shakily stood his ground. "Is that all?" He growled as the attack faded, wavering slightly on his feet.
"Certainly packs a punch, doesn't she?" Jadeite coughed. After scrambling off the ground himself, Mamoru rushed over to help him to his feet.
"Your dragon needs to work on his aim, Jadeite."
"Hey, I didn't see any felines helping out there, thank you very much."
"I was conserving my energy, thank you very--"
"Can it!" Kunzite shouted, just as he took the heart-shaped end of a Time Key to his stomach. He groaned, just as Sanura gave it a repeat performance.
Before any of the Shitennou could get an attack in the air, there was a loud, unexpected cry of "Crescent Beam!"
Jadeite threw himself on top of Mamoru while Nephrite remained standing in front of both of them, taking the brunt of the attack.
"Stop doing that!" The black-haired prince shouted, trying to scramble out from beneath Jadeite.
"Would you shut up and let us protect you?" The blonde half-whined, practically sitting on Mamoru to keep him from getting up again.
"Protecting me is one thing. Acting as human shields is something else altogether."
"You five are positively pathetic," Miniya drawled, perched daintily on the roof of the frat house. "Did you like my little gift earlier?"
"Yeah, it was bloody wonderful," Nephrite wheezed, barely staying on his feet.
Miniya smiled, showing her teeth. They were very, very white and very, very sharp. "I'm so glad. Venus Love and Beauty Shock!"
Mamoru writhed underneath the weight of the blonde on top of him, but Jadeite didn't budge. "Look, hold off, okay? You have three Senshi to dust, and the longer you save energy, the less likely it is that you'll pass out."
"You're just going to sit on top of me while Nephrite gets his ass kicked?"
"Yeah, you're damn right that's what I'm going to do," Jadeite snapped. "Because that's our job. I know you're new to this whole 'being protected' thing, but this is part of it. People get hurt. People who aren't you, specifically."
Nephrite stumbled backwards and nearly landed on top of the pair. He snarled at the woman on top of the roof, his expression nearly matching the ethereal tiger that appeared in front of him.
"I see nothing good about that arrangement!" Mamoru barked, trying to buck Jadeite off of him. The blonde was much quicker than he appeared, however, and with one swift move he had the Prince's arm wrenched painfully behind his back.
"Don't make me hurt you, Prince. You know I would if I had to."
"No, you wouldn't."
Jadeite tugged on his prince's arm, not enough to dislocate it but enough for him to curse quietly in pain. "Yes, I would. Now you are going to hold the fuck still, Prince, you hear me?"
"I hate you, Jed," Mamoru snarled, glaring lopsidedly upward at the guardian on top of him.
"Yeah, love you too, you drama queen."
Miniya yelped as the tiger nearly unseated her from her perch on the roof. "Nice trick!" She shouted at Nephrite, clinging to the shingles. "Rolling Heart Vibration!"
Kunzite tried to keep himself focused on the leather-clad woman who was intently attempting to give him a concussion with her staff, but his Prince's feelings of fear and rage were steadily escalating in the back of his mind. As much as he wanted to applaud Jadeite for keeping Mamoru out of harm's way, the black-haired man's excess emotions were becoming nearly unbearable, and he was tempted to yell at Jadeite to just let him go. If only they could make him understand that what they were doing was no different from all the times he had thrown himself in front of an attack for Usagi!
The giant tiger absorbed Miniya's attack easily, spraying bits of energy around in brief gusts of wind.
"Your turn, Jadeite." Nephrite coughed, collapsing onto his back. He didn't have the energy to stay on his feet any longer.
"If you move, I'm coming back here and tickling you to death," Jadeite warned severely - he meant it. Letting go of the black-haired man's arm, he stood up, eyeing Miniya as one might eye a poisonous spider.
Ignoring Jadeite's warning, Mamoru rushed to Nephrite's side, gently laying a hand on the man's forehead. Blood stained his white uniform in several places and more than a few cuts and bruises were already beginning to swell up on his face. "Don't worry about me, Prince," he wheezed painfully, giving Mamoru a broken smile. "It's not too bad. I just need a break."
"'Not too bad' my ass," Mamoru snarled. He could sense how badly Nephrite was hurt as easily as if it were his own body. "I'll get you healed up, and--"
"No! Prince, please, you need to save your strength."
"The longer I 'save my strength' the more the four of you are getting hurt. I can't just sit here and not help you."
"Just hold off, okay? I'll be fine until you vaporize the--" Nephrite had to stop when he began to cough, violently at that. He rolled onto his side, curled up in a fetal position. He was most definitely in need of healing.
That was the last straw. Mamoru rolled his friend over on his back again, acquiring his familair golden glow. "The longer I wait, the more I have to lose, Nephrite. I'm not going to wipe myself; I'm just going to keep you from dying. Is that acceptable?"
"Okay, fine," the brunette muttered, trying hard to squash a smile.
Once he began healing his friend, Mamoru found it very difficult to hold back. It was as though the Golden Crystal was as instinctively eager to heal as he was, and if it were not for Jadeite's pointed glare, he probably would have taken care of every last paper cut and hangnail that the brunette was suffering from. Once he was sure that all of the lethal wounds were gone and that Nephrite would not be in nearly as much pain as he had been, he forced himself to swallow the rest of his power, and the golden aura faded. "Better?"
Nephrite winced slightly as he sat up, but his breathing was no longer as ragged. "Much. Thanks, Prince."
Mamoru thought to reply, but his words were cut short by Zoisite's scream. A swift move by Harmony had clipped the blonde across the shoulder with the sharp end of her Glaive, nearly taking his whole arm off. He already looked more than a little battered, but he nevertheless flicked his tangled hair out of his face and prepared to block another swipe by the delinquent child.
Nephrite grabbed Mamoru by the arm before he ran off to help. "As much as Jadeite will give me hell for it later, I'm going to go help Zoi. Just stay here and don't commit suicide while I'm gone, okay?"
"Shut up, Neph," the prince snapped, although he didn't really mean it.
"Yeah, yeah, you know you love me."
Mamoru cursed under his breath as he watched the brunette run towards Zoisite, a prominent limp in his step. It was just so frustrating to be sitting back while his friends were getting hurt for him. What good was having the Golden Crystal if he could not even use it to help the people he loved? //I guess I can't really blame them. They are just trying to protect me.// He idly rubbed the arm which Jadeite had pinned back, still feeling the dull ache in his muscles. //Perhaps a little TOO much.// They were acting as though they were trying to make up for the twenty years of his life when they had not been there for him. As much as he appreciated the effort, the Shitennou, as dearly as Mamoru loved them, were trying too hard. Twenty years was an awful lot to fit into one battle, after all.
But they were obviously determined to make up for all they'd missed, he realized as he watched Nephrite take a swing at Harmony, the punch sending her reeling. They weren't holding back, which was mighty thoughtful, but they were being reckless. They weren't trying hard enough to avoid injury; they blocked, they dodged, but it wasn't as skillful as Mamoru had expected from them.
"Zoi, go get the Prince to fix your arm," Nephrite said quietly, as he grabbed on of Harmony's flying pigtails and tossed her roughly aside. "And stay by him. We'll rotate, okay?"
"I'm not going anywhere until that Goth girl is taken care of," Zoisite snarled, clutching his bloody arm as he stood next to Nephrite. His ponytail had fallen out, leaving a disheveled mane of blonde hair that partially obscured his face. His green eyes glared out from between the wavy strands, challenging anyone to tell him otherwise. Zory may have taken a lot of grief about being small, but he could be downright vicious when he wanted to be.
"I'm not gonna argue with you, but someone needs to stay with him, and you're barely holding up as it is."
The blonde blinked, incredulous. "You mean, you just left him standing there?"
"Well, it was either that, or let you drop your arm off."
"Thanks." Zoisite looked back at Mamoru, who was standing in the middle of the chaos and looking entirely perplexed. He hesitated for a moment as Nephrite blocked a well-placed kick from Harmony.
"Just hurry up and go!" Nephrite commanded. "It wouldn't do for all of us to be too distracted by fighting to actually protect the person we're fighting for." With a resigned sigh, Zoisite took off towards the black-haired Prince.
Mamoru met him part way, for which the blonde was immensely thankful. As much as he would have liked to finish that little fight, he knew that he was more than a little beaten up, and running was certainly not helping the matter any. He winced as the Prince inspected his arm, which was now soaked in blood.
"This is pretty deep, Zoisite. I'd better heal it right away."
"I didn't come here for you to heal me, Prince. I just thought you might like some company."
"Oh, I cherish every moment we spend together." Mamoru's hands immediately started glowing. "Hold still while I do this, or I make out with you to keep you from moving."
"...You're quite the interesting one for threats, Prince."
"I do what I have to."
Obviously not wanting to risk a tongue-lock in the middle of a heated battle, Zoisite stood silently, impatiently as his prince worked his magic.
"Relax," Mamoru said, smiling. "I'm not going to drain myself, okay? Nothing good will come if your arm falls off or you bleed to death."
"Aren't you going to feel silly if you faint later because of this?" Zoisite raised an eyebrow. "Because I'll be sure to make you feel silly."
"Your compassion is long and wide, Zoisite, but I'm not particularly concerned about that right now."
Mamoru expertly ran his fingers along the gaping wound, working with the golden glow around him. There was a cry of "Chronos Typhoon!" followed by an anguished yelp from Kunzite. Almost at that same moment, Mamoru doubled over, nearly screaming himself.
"Prince! Are you alright?"
Mamoru dimly shook his head. He had felt that! Kunzite was halfway across the lawn, but somehow, he could feel his pain. //No, not just Kunzite's. Everyone's.// It was as though someone had flipped a switch to turn on senses he was not even aware that he had. He could feel, without knowing how, which pain belonged to who. He could feel the throb in Zoisite's arm, the many aches in Nephrite's chest, the burns on Jadeite's skin, and the countless bruises that covered Kunzite's body. Maybe it was because he was using the Golden Crystal, but somehow, his power, his psychometry, whatever he could call it, was stretching far beyond his normal abilities.
And if there was anything worse than watching his guardians get the snot beaten out of them, it was feeling it as keenly as he were in all four places at once. It was too much. He couldn't stand seeing it, and he definitely couldn't stand feeling it like a human pincushion. Enough of this damn standing around.
He let go of the blonde's arm, which had healed enough to keep him from dying within the next twenty minutes. He'd have to finish it up later.
Zoisite saw Mamoru scanning the battle, obviously looking for a place he could help. "Prince, just hold off a few more minutes, okay? We've got this covered."
Mamoru glared pointedly at Zoisite's arm. "Oh yeah, that's what I call 'covered,' alright."
He turned back to the battle, watching the three individual fights that were taking place in scattered pairs across the lawn. Jadeite was relying heavily on his water dragon to protect him from Miniya's various long-distance attacks. Unfortunately, it only held up against one attack at a time before being destroyed in a splatter of droplets, and for every one of Miniya's blasts of orange energy that the dragon blocked, the blonde himself was hit at least two more times.
Nephrite was holding up well enough against Harmony, considering he was twice her size but completely unarmed, but Mamoru could feel his earlier wounds slowing him down, and he had several fresh gashes from the pretentious child.
Kunzite seemed to be in the worst shape. Neither he nor Sanura had so much as paused for breath since she had taken the first swing at him. No sooner would one gain the advantage then the other would jump up swinging, and they would again return to their perpetual combat, too closely locked in battle to even notice the others fighting around them.
Zoisite sighed quietly, stepping in front of Mamoru's line of vision. "Prince, just relax, okay? Getting hurt is just what happens in battle--you, of all people, should know--and worrying about them isn't going to help."
Of course, the black-haired man totally disregarded everything he had just been told when Nephrite screeched loudly in pain. Mamoru let out a scream of his own--he could feel that slash as keenly as if it was his own body. The wound went all the way across the brunette's chest, quickly soaking his white uniform crimson as he frantically tried to clamp his hands on it in an attempt to keep from bleeding to death.
That was more than enough for Mamoru. He was done with waiting, and he was done with letting his friends get hurt. Every warrior on the battlefield paused in midstep as the frathouse lawn flooded with blinding golden light. "Prince, no!" Zoisite shouted, trying to hold back the black-haired man. With a forceful shove, Mamoru dislodged the blonde and charged towards Harmony, fury burning golden in his eyes.
The little girl was bent over Nephrite, the tip of her Glaive against his throat. Mamoru knew very well how it felt to be at the business end of that weapon, and the sight of one of his guardians being in the same position only served to double his anger. Before he had covered half the distance, his hand shot out. "Tuxedo Mirage!"
Harmony glanced up--far too late--and caught sight of the stream of golden light charging towards her. Her childlike smile faded into a look of absolute fear, and for a fraction of a second the Prince could see her large dark eyes staring past the attack and into his. She vanished in a burst of light and shimmering dust, just as Mamoru snatched the Glaive out of her hands and away from Nephrite's Adam's apple.
Nephrite let out a great sigh of relief when the pointy blade moved from his line of sight. Mamoru looked at him with no small amount of concern, and quickly said, "Don't die in the next five minutes, okay?" before turning on his heels, menacing gleam in his eye. He twirled the Glaive in his hand as though he knew exactly how to wield it.
Kunzite and Sanura were still at each other's throats, having stopped for barely more than half a second to allow their eyes to adjust to the light. Wielding the Silence Glaive in both hands, Mamoru raced towards the two, ignoring shouted protests from both Zoisite and Jadeite.
"Kunzite, duck!" he bellowed, swinging the weapon as though he had been using it his entire life. The tangled head of silver hair dropped to the ground, moments before the blade sliced through where Kunzite's back had been, straight into Sanura's chest.
The mohawked clone choked in surprise, her crimson eyes growing wide. Her dark hands felt along the Glaive's long handle, as though feeling to see if it was really there. She wheezed, looking up at Mamoru, an ironic sort of smile on her face. "Been... nice knowin' ya... Prince..."
"I wish I could say the same." With the woman speared roughly on the Glaive, she was an immobile target, and Mamoru used this to his advantage. "Tuxedo Mirage!"
Sanura inhaled sharply; considering she was already gored through and through, the blast of light wasn't really any more painful. It was just a surprise, of sorts, but she didn't have long to reflect on it. Within seconds, her body disintegrated, leaving nothing but a little blood on the Glaive.
Kunzite stood up slowly, brushing the equivalent of Moondust! from his jacket. "Glad to see you're having fun."
Mamoru sneered at the comment. He would not exactly categorize the vaporizing of psychotic female clones in order to protect his friends from certain death as "fun".
Kunzite watched his Prince warily. He did not need a special connection with him to see that he was seething. "I know you're angry..."
"That's an understatement," Mamoru snapped.
"...But you know why we're doing this. You know why."
"Yeah, I do. And that's what frustrates me so much. You're all so bloody eager to protect me in this battle, there won't be any of you left for the next one." As he spoke, pain suddenly exploded in Mamoru's chest, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs. He turned anxiously towards Jadeite. The blonde had not even screamed that time.
"Please, Prince," Kunzite said softly, grabbing a glowing arm. "You've already taken care of two of them. Just let us get the last one, alright?"
Mamoru sighed, relenting. "Fine. You go take care of the last one. I have to make sure Nephrite hasn't bled out."
"Yes. You go do that, Mister Med Student. We'll go toast her." Before his prince could argue, Kunzite let go of his arm and turned abruptly on his heels, already powering up to decimate the last of the clones.
With another sigh, Mamoru turned his attention back to the bleeding brunette.
"You're pretty good with that thing, Prince," Nephrite said, after a furious coughing fit. "You sure you're not meant to be the Senshi of Death and Rebirth?"
"Shut up or I stick my hand in your chest cavity," the black haired man muttered, glowing hands hovering over the gaping wound.
Obviously not enjoying the mental image of someone touching his internal organs, the brunette sat silently, watching Mamoru heal him for the second time that day. When the black-haired Prince had finished, he heaved a sigh of relief, grateful to be able to breathe again. "Thanks again, Prince. I owe ya for this."
"You don't owe me anything, Nephrite." Mamoru offered him a hand, which the brunette gladly accepted, and helped him to his feet. "Just stop getting hurt so much. You're almost as bad as Kunzite."
"I heard that!" Kunzite shouted, planting his elbow in Miniya's gut to get away from the death grip around his neck.
"Oh, you know it's true," Zoisite shot back, still nursing his nearly removed arm. "Mister 'I Think I'll Take a Silence Glaive to the Gut.'"
"It was either--ow!--the Prince or myself," he grunted, rubbing his jaw as the blonde clone circled him. "I'll take my chances."
"That's what I worry about," Mamoru muttered.
"Heard that, too."
"You know, you're listening an awful lot for someone who should be concentrating on staying alive."
"Hey, haven't you ever heard of multitasking?" He groaned as Miniya jumped on his back, wrapping two exceptionally long arms around his neck. "Someone wanna get her off of me?"
"Duck."
"What?"
"Just do it!" Nephrite left no room for argument. Kunzite did just as he was told - he ducked his head and tried to curl away from the woman who was holding him as a giant, translucent tiger bore down, teeth bared, and sent Miniya flying. The white-haired man was abruptly sent to the ground, no longer being assaulted from behind.
"Thanks," he panted, glad that he was able to breathe again.
"Don't mention it."
Kunzite turned to watch the huge feline as it mauled the hapless blonde. Miniya made attempts at fighting back, but her punches and kicks struck only air, making it an entirely one-sided battle. "I think he could use some help, don't you?" Kunzite smirked as the world turned black.
"Aw shit, not again!" Jadeite groaned.
Miniya echoed the sentiment, from underneath the invisible paw of the wind tiger. She shouted out various curse words at the tortoise bearing down upon her, but the giant black hole of a creature just blinked placidly at her. With one fluid movement, it jumped into the air, and sat on the blonde clone.
More obscenities were screamed from underneath the giant tortoise, but it just sat there serenely, oblivious to the fact that it was a) not physically a tortoise, in actuality, and b) was going to dissipate in a few seconds.
"That thing's got some odd fighting tactics, Kunzite," Zoisite said nervously, carefully avoiding a massive black fin.
"Death by tortoise. I think that's gotta be listed in the Darwin Awards somewhere." Jadeite blinked up at the enormous head, which was making a slow, gentle swivel around to watch the tiny creatures cowering below it. It grinned its tranquil, turtlish sort of grin, irridescent light refracting off of the wrinkled ebony skin with a spectral quality that seemed to encompass a thousand different colors at once.
With a quiescent wink, the creature dissipated as before, with the whispered rush of wispy shadows.
Miniya groaned plantively, writhing on her back. That damn tortoise packed a punch, which was altogether surprising, because of just that: it was a tortoise. Tigers, she could understand. But a really, really big turtle? It was mind-boggling.
"Are you quite finished," Mamoru asked mildly, "or do you intend to maim her any more?"
Kunzite looked at the blonde clone on the ground, who was so weak she couldn't even move from her embarassing position by which everyone in a ten foot radius could see under her, albeit very small, skirt.
"I'm done," Kunzite said, nodding firmly.
"Good." With very little fanfare, Mamoru held out a glowing hand towards the mangled blonde. "Tuxedo Mirage!" In a flurry of golden light and sparkles, Miniya was put out of her misery, leaving behind only a bed of crushed grass where the tortoise had squished her.
"Wow, three of them dead and you're still fully conscious." Kunzite smirked as the the light surrounding Mamoru vanished. "I think that's a new record."
"Do you want me to hurt you? Because I could really hurt you right now." The black haired Prince massaged his temple. All things considered, he would rather be asleep right now.
"Well, we were in the middle of quite the interesting situation of male bonding earlier." The uniform, the cape, all faded away, and with the tiniest puff of wind, Kunzite was just Malachi again. "And I don't think we quite finished."
"'Male bonding.' That's a nice euphamism." Jed sidestepped Zory as the feminine blonde attempted to slap him, but he didn't account for being unceremoniously tripped by Mamoru. He fell rear-first, knocking his head on the pavement just hard enough to cause a brief spike of pain.
The three standing Shitennou eyed the black-haired man with incredulity.
Mamoru looked at them and shrugged. "He was asking for it."
Neff laughed, giving Mamoru a pat on the back. "Our Prince is growing up."
"I didn't find it particularly amusing," Jed sulked on the ground. "It's bad enough dodging the three of you."
The look on the blonde's face was too amusing for words, and Mamoru could not help but join in the laughter. His smile faded, however, when he felt an odd sort of sensation, like a tingle on the back of his neck. It was not altogether unpleasant, but he was quickly learning to trust his senses, and any new feeling made him feel uneasy.
"...Mamochan...."
Mamoru's heart quickened. He felt it more than he heard it, a sort of whisper at the back of his mind.
"Mamochan...."
It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be her. But that voice...
"Mamochan..."
The air around Malachi suddenly seemed to drop about twenty degrees in temperature. He could feel it; there was a presence with them, and it spelled trouble with a capital T. And R-O-U-B-L-E, for that matter.
He looked warily to his left; Zory's back was stick straight, eyes darting back and forth like a nervous bird. The blonde felt it, too. Something wrong.
Neff helped Jed to his feet. The brunette peered out from under an errant strand of hair. Cold. Very cold all of a sudden.
Jed felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The four of them just reeked of fear. They weren't quite sure what to be afraid of at that moment, but they knew the time to rejoice in the Prince's lack of unconsciousness had been fleeting. Back to business as usual.
"Mamochan, you dense idiot, turn the hell around already and look at me!"
Unable to do anything else, Mamoru dazedly obeyed. The area immediately behind him was empty, but he thought he heard movement just around the corner of the frathouse. A few wisps of golden hair trailed in the breeze. A single, gloved hand rested on the wall. As he watched, a winged creature like something out of a storybook emerged from behind the building, a goddess with golden hair and eyes like twin sapphires. Mamoru's heart jumped into his throat. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he had lost consciousness after all. But it seemed so much like her.
"Usako..."
The fact that she looked different from how he remembered did not matter to him. He did not notice that her wings were not pure white, but a dull, empty black. Nor did he care to see that her hair was not in its trademark odango, but hung loose around her shoulders, or that the colors of her uniform were all off. All that he saw was the girl he had missed so much, the fiance he had been longing to see. All that he saw was her.
"Prince, are you sure..." Malachi said warily. He knew that Sailor Moon had gone through quite a few upgrades since he had last seen her, and surely the black-haired man would know his own fiancé. But he could not shake the feeling that this woman was something to be feared.
Whatever the white-haired guardian had intended to say next would have been lost on deaf ears, had it even been said at all.
"Happy to see me, Mamochan?" The woman who had been addressed as Usako smiled, sweetly but with a twitch of something sinister at the ends of it. Mamoru didn't notice. All he saw was his beloved, and everything that seemed wrong about the moment was totally lost on his senses. In no less than five seconds, he had completely lost it.
"Come on, what are you waiting for?" She impatiently stomped her foot in the loosely packed dirt. "Hug me!"
The black-haired man didn't have to be told twice. He rushed forward, brushing rudely past Zory who nearly lost his own balance and only kept from falling over by collapsing onto Malachi.
"That's not her," the blonde whispered into Malachi's shoulder. "She doesn't feel right. She makes my skin itch like all those other clones."
"I know, Zory." Malachi watched the woman masquerading as Sailor Moon with narrowed green eyes. "I know. But do you want to get in the way of that?"
Zory couldn't see what "that" was, but if he was assuming a giant bear hug, he would have been correct. Mamoru had latched onto her with the force of an industrial vice grip.
"Slower than a brick, aren't you, Mamochan?" she said quietly, stroking his hair with gloved fingers. "Adorable, but slow."
"Usako..." Mamoru whispered into her hair, breathing in the exotic, fruity smell of her shampoo. Suddenly, all the terrible things he had ever done to her melted away, leaving only the beautiful woman in his arms. Nothing else in the world mattered to him at that moment. He had his Usako back.
"We can't let this go on," Neff muttered, shaking his head slowly. "I don't care if the Prince kills me for it later; she shouldn't be allowed anywhere near him."
"Try telling him that," Jed said darkly.
It would take a crowbar to make Mamoru loosen his grip on the blonde woman, who was only encouraging the situation. "Kiss me, Mamochan. Don't you want to kiss me?"
"Of course," he said dumbly. So overwhelmed was he by her presence that he was having difficulty even thinking to do something as simple as that.
So kiss her he did, and what a kiss it was. He was so full of elation--Malachi had been right, Usako had come back to him, for Hell or mad Senshi (which was perhaps redundant)--that nothing wrong about the situation could phase him. His blood was pounding furiously, exploding from his heart to his head and back again. His lips were on top of hers with such passion, the Shitennou finally had to look away for embarassment.
"I knew there was a horn dog under there somewhere," Jed muttered, staring furiously at his shoes.
Not to give the impression that the kiss was one-sided, she was kissing back just as forcefully. Eventually, they had to pause for air.
"Do you love me, Mamochan?" she breathed, small chest heaving from all the effort.
"Yes, oh yes, a thousand times yes." He'd had enough of this talking stuff, and before she could get any more words out, he'd tackled her for another kiss.
"This would be really cute if I didn't have the inexplicable urge to kill her," Neff growled, grinding the knuckles of one hand into the palm of the other to keep himself from ripping the two mad hot lovebirds apart.
The Usagi-lookalike had to physically take his head in both hands and pull it away from her in order to speak again. "You truly love me, Mamochan?" She asked sweetly, gazing up into his deep blue eyes.
"Of course I do. You know I do." Without so much as a pause, he pushed past her hands and back to her lips.
The Shitennou threw each other nervous glances. Every inch of their senses was screaming that this was all wrong and that they needed to put an end to it immediately. But for all that, only one thing held them all back. This was the happiest they had seen their Prince in days. The happiest they had ever seen him, really. No one wanted to be the one to shatter that happiness. No one wanted to be the one to break it to him that it was all a lie, that his Usako was lying in a hospital bed back in Tokyo, just as angry at him as ever.
Finally, even Mamoru had to concede that he was out of breath, and he settled for leaning heavily on the Usagi look-alike, face buried in the crook of her neck. His nerves were on fire; he was beside himself. Oh, Usako was here, and everything would turn out!
"Would you die for me, Mamochan?"
"In a heartbeat," he said softly, looking up into the woman's deep blue eyes. He held her face carefully in his hands, taking it all in.
"Do you promise?"
It didn't really matter what his answer to the question was, because he didn't even get to form one.
"Starlight Honeymoon Therapy Kiss!"
Four voices cried out as Mamoru was thrown backwards nearly ten feet before colliding with the brick wall of the frat house. When the dust and glitter settled, the black-haired man lay in a heap among the rubble, a cavernous dent carved into the wall behind him as though someone had tried to drive a pickup through it.
The clone smiled sweetly, clutching her bizarre rendition of the Moon Tier between her gloved hands. "I'll take that as a yes."
Her smile was forced to vanish immediately after, because at that moment it had a very close encounter with Malachi's fist.
The blonde stumbled back, but did not seem at all upset by this. Indeed, she grinned viciously up at the white-haired man, not seeming to notice the tiny trickle of blood from her lips. "Oh my, looks like I've gone and upset you."
"Damn straight you did," Malachi snarled, lashing out to punch her again. The blonde smiled and caught the punch before it came to her face.
"Getting slow, aren't you?" she chirped, before slamming her Tier into Malachi's gut with absolutely no remorse whatsoever.
While that fight went on, Jed and Neff immediately ran to the side of the frat house, trying to seperate their prince from the heap of brick and mortar that had fallen on him. They hoped to every god and goddess they knew of that he hadn't been crushed to death.
Finally, after removing the first layer of rubble, they found his hand sticking out. Moving ever faster, they pulled Mamoru the rest of the way. His breathing was shallow, ragged, but at least it was happening at all.
"C'mon, Prince," Jed said nervously, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "C'mon. Wake up, dammit."
He propped the black-haired man up against a more stable corner of the frat house, and shook him lightly in the hopes that he would come around.
Neff slid a hand behind Mamoru's head to hold it steady, and was horrified when his fingers came in contact with a sticky mass of blood and black hair. "Oh God, Prince, hold on."
As the Usagi-clone swung her Tier around to clobber Malachi, a hand took hold of a mass of blonde hair and gave a brutal yank, wrenching her head fiercely back. "Hurts, don't it love?" Zory gave another hard tug, unceremoniously throwing the girl to the ground.
Somewhere in a sea of pain, Mamoru could hear the ensuing fight. Someone was shouting curses, someone was throwing punches. But it hurt far too much to breathe, let alone open his eyes to see what was going on. He became aware that someone was calling his name, shaking him, but all the sounds had become an unintelligible mess.
The blonde launched herself at Zory, fingers extended and firmly intent on grabbing his hair. But the feminine boy was faster, and he ducked just in time, launching himself at her midsection. They both plowed to the ground, and Zory wasted not a moment to start furiously pounding at her face.
"You disgusting abomination!" he shouted, grabbing her hair and slamming her head on the ground. "How dare you trick him like that! How DARE you!"
"Whas' going on?" Mamoru said, so quiet he may as well have avoided straining his vocal cords. Everything hurt. His chest hurt, his head hurt, his back hurt, and his arms and legs were tingling. All in all, not a good situation.
"We're having a, er, problem." Jed turned his head to regard the fight behind him, and tried not to laugh at Zory's valiant attempt to be manly. Turning back to his prince, his smile dissolved. "Mamoru, can you open your eyes for me?"
The effort it required was momentous at least, but Mamoru finally did it, clouded blue eyes looking at Jed in confusion and panic.
"Who's fighting over there?" he slurred, having a very difficult time keeping up this work of open eyes.
"Where are you hurting, Prince?" Neff thought to abruptly change the subject; if Mamoru found out it was their compatriots and "Usako" fighting, he'd go batshit.
Considering how much effort it would take to list the many parts of his body that were screaming in pain, Mamoru summed it all up with a muttered "everywhere." Even that felt like the reciting of an epic, for all the strength it took to do it.
In the midst of severely beating the crap out of the fake Sailor Moon, Zory failed to see the Tier swinging up at him. It struck him hard in his side, knocking the wind from his lungs and forcing him to pause for a few fatal moments. The woman's other fist slammed straight into his stomach, and Zory doubled over painfully. She easily shoved him off of him, a triumphant smirk on her face.
As the clone began to rise, a knee slammed sharply down into her chest, pinning her to the ground. "You're not going anywhere," Malachi snarled.
It was no use. Keeping his eyes open took far too much effort. Mamoru's head dipped forward as his eyelids began to slide shut.
"No, Prince!" Jed shouted, giving Mamoru a sound shake. "You have to stay awake!"
"I'm so tired," the Prince slurred, barely able to keep himself conscious long enough to say it.
"Prince, does the word 'concussion' mean anything to your pre-med brain? Perhaps 'spinal injury?'" Neff snapped. "Don't, for the love of God, go to sleep!"
"Don' go spouting med'cal terminologicaly at me, Neff," Mamoru snapped, sounding more like he was drunk than concussed. "'M just fine, 'cept that I hurt and I need to sleep."
"Yeah, you're just fine," Neff retorted. "You sound like you just spent Margarita Monday with us, which I can assure you, is most definitely NOT fine come Tuesday morning."
The Tier swung for Malachi's head, but he grabbed it just as it was about to collide with his temple. The two struggled for control of the oversized wand, but while she may have been more powerful, he had an obvious physical advantage, and eventually managed to wrench it out of the clone's grasp. He triumphantly held it over his head, well out of her reach. "Let's see how much trouble you can cause without your little toy."
"You're gonna regret doing that," the blonde clone chided, a devious look in her eye. She arched her head back to increase her volume and let out a tremendous, screeching, "MAMOCHAN!"
"Usa!" Seeming to forget that he had been crushed by a building not ten minutes ago, Mamoru nearly leapt out of his skin. He tried to pull himself upright, but between his injuries and the two men holding him down, he was not altogether successful.
"Prince, calm down! Listen to me!" Neff tried to hold him still, but Mamoru, frail though his attempts were, was putting up a fight.
"Usa's in trouble!" Mamoru said frantically, struggling as his two friends kept him pinned to the ground. "What are you doing? I have to go help her! She's going to get hurt!"
"Oh, you're damn right she is," Malachi growled. The look in his eyes would have caused any mere mortal to piss their pants, but she didn't blink an eye. That is, until they briefly flashed grey.
Zory saw it before the blonde did. He ran up behind Malachi, putting a fragile hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Take it easy, Malachi. She isn't worth that. Don't let that Kunzite take over."
Malachi glared down at the woman a moment longer, steel-silver eyes locked on hers with the force of an industrial-strength vice. Eventually he took a long, shaky breath, and the grey irises softened into their familiar green. "You're right. She isn't worth it."
Zory sighed with relief. Of all the things that could happen, having Evil Bastard Kunzite appear in their midst was definitely not among his top five favorite events. The clone, for some bizarre reason, looked relieved herself. No one wanted the wrath of the other Kunzite on them, it seemed.
"Lemme go! She needs me!" Mamoru writhed beneath his friends' grips.
"Prince, listen to me!" Jed said sharply, trying to get his attention. "That's not your Usagi! She's just another clone!" His words fell on deaf ears. Suddenly there was no other thought in Mamoru's mind except that his Usako needed him, and that he had to get to her at all costs.
In his franticness, he managed to see past Neff's shoulder for a brief moment, just long enough to catch a glimpse of his beloved being pinned to the ground by his best friend.
"What's going on?!" he shouted, his voice near panic. "Why is he hurting her?"
"Because," Neff explained, as though he were trying to describe astrophysics to a five-year-old, "she hurt you first. Malachi doesn't like that. You know, we're kinda picky guardians like that."
"No, she didn't mean it! She was..." Mamoru didn't really know, exactly, what she'd been intending to do, but that was beside the point. "I don't want Malachi to hurt her!"
"Mamochan!" the blonde shouted, jumping up and down as Malachi teasingly held her Tier over her head just out of her grasp. "He's being mean to me! I need my Tier back, Mamochan!"
"Usa!" Mamoru once again attempted to sit up, but Jed and Neph both pushed him firmly back against the wall.
"Prince, please stop struggling," Jed pleaded. "You're going to hurt yourself."
Mamoru gritted his teeth. He'd had quite enough of being helpless while his Usa was in trouble. This time, he was going to save her. No matter what--or who--stood in his path, he would rescue his Usako.
The two fratboys exchanged hopeful glances as Mamoru began to take on a golden glow, rapidly healing his many wounds. If he was finally healing himself, he must have finally come to his senses.
At least, that is what they thought. Right up until the point that he blasted both of them five feet into the air.
Now, it should be noted that Zory was not one to throw curse words around lightly. Especially at his Prince.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" the little blonde shrieked, turning abruptly on his heels as his friends came thumping back down to the pavement face first, groaning feebly and unable to move.
"Give her wand back," Mamoru growled, getting to his feet in a hurry. He stalked over to Malachi, radiating fury.
"What, so she can blast you again?" Malachi snapped, apparently not impressed or particularly concerned about getting clobbered. "I don't think so, Prince. Come on, hit me if you want. But I'm going to protect you from this woman, because she is not your Usako and she's danger--"
The white-haired man didn't get to finish his thought. He was promptly blasted by a huge column of golden light, flying more than five feet into the air and landing on his back. There was a sharp crack as he came down; something was obviously broken.
Zory, being perhaps the least phsyically capable of the whole lot, was petrified. He knew he would be critically injured if he took that kind of blow. His physique was light, not meant for high velocity trips through the air and the subsequent landings.
"I said, give her wand back," Mamoru snarled again, glaring at both of them dangerously. He wavered on his feet, his clouded blue eyes obviously not seeing very clearly. Zory suspected that it had taken more than a concussion to confuse the dark-haired prince. There was something potent about that kiss.
Malachi lay wheezing on the pavement, making futile attempts to rise. His right arm hung limply at his side, unmoving. He gripped the Tier in his other hand, green eyes glaring up at Mamoru through a curtain of white hair. "I mean this with the utmost respect when I say 'fuck you, Prince.'"
"Told ya you'd regret it," the clone sang tauntingly down at Malachi, perfectly content to sit back and watch her Mamochan fight for her. "Mamochan, hurry up and get it for me!"
Zory briefly considered blocking Mamoru's path, pulling his hair, doing something desperate to stop him before he gave the instrument of his more than probable demise back to the clone. Fortunately, he was saved by a brunette blur tackling the Prince, in a way one might expect out of a football player.
"Zory, get that wand and get out of here," Neff snarled, desperately trying to keep his Prince pinned to the ground. Mamoru was, as could be expected, not particularly enthused about this. He bucked underneath Neff's weight, wrenching his arms out of the vice grip they were under. One hand lashed out and caught Neff by the throat, and in a flash their positions had reversed.
Mamoru held the brunette down with all his weight centered on his wrist, and Neff quickly turned an unhealthy shade of purple. His hands frantically pulled at Mamoru's, desperately trying to pull it off, but with no success. Finally, Mamoru seemed unamused by his friend's feeble attempts at self-preservation and punched him squarely in the face with his free hand. It was quite the punch, too, because Neff immediately blacked out and went limp.
Zory bit his lip as ever nerve and cell in his body screamed out to transform and go help his friend already.
"Zory, catch!" From his position on the ground, Malachi threw the Tier at Zory in the hopes that he could catch it. It landed smartly at the blonde's feet, and just as he bent down to get his hands on it, he was blasted from behind. His head was smashed down on the pavement as the golden beam of light tore through, dragging him quite a ways away and flipping him over at least six times. Finally, the light dissipated and Zory stopped moving. There was a loud moan from across the courtyard, a safe indication that at least he'd lived through the blast. But it didn't sound--or look, even from a far perspective--like he'd make it much past that.
"ZORY!" Malachi frantically tried to get to his feet, but he couldn't get his balance with only one arm, and managed only to collapse onto his face.
Mamoru started across the yard, charging straight towards the injured blonde. A hand clamped around his ankle, sending him hurling onto the ground. He turned his head lopsidedly around to growl ferally at Malachi, whose hand held his foot like a vice. "Let go!"
"You can kill me if you want, but I'd sooner die than let you give that filthy creature her weapon back," he growled from his position on the cement, sprawled out on his stomach with his damaged arm flung out in an unnatural position, completely useless to him.
The dark-haired prince kicked his feet wildly, straining with his arms to pull away from the iron grasp. Despite his position, Malachi went right on clinging to him, refusing to give an inch.
Zory groggily opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything, could barely hear much more. His body felt like one giant welt of pain with a nice heap of fear thrown in for good measure. There was one infinitely tiny ounce of hope in this whole situation--by some miracle, he still held the Tier between his bloodied fingers.
Mamoru managed to roll himself onto his back, flipping an injured Malachi with him. The white-haired man refuse to let go, grasping with all the strength he had. His Prince suddenly lashed out with the foot attached to the ankle he was holding, and Malachi got a face full of shoe. The hit was so abrupt, and surprisingly powerful, that Malachi was forced to let go of Mamoru's foot. He cursed himself for not holding on, but he couldn't do any more.
The black-haired man sprang to his feet, now unimpeded. Zory could hear his steps, faster and faster and more furious. //God, he's going to kill me. He's going to take the wand and then he's going to look down and just smother me.// He held onto the Tier as much as he could, hoping it would be a good way to go out. He was doing what was best: protecting his Prince, even when said Prince didn't understand it.
But when Mamoru arrived at Zory's broken body, he couldn't bring himself to take the Tier. From out of his concussion-induced haze came one startling clear fact: he had done this. Zory was small, practically defenseless when not transformed and had just a firebird going for him when he was.
The Prince's attack had practically decimated the blonde. He was looking up, sightless, blood vessels in his eyes burst from the pressure and the force of the blow. His clothing was ripped and burned and barely hanging on in places. His face had already begun to swell and bruise underneath a thin mask of blood, nose broken and at an unnatural angle. And he was holding onto the Tier with all the strength he had left.
Zory tried his best not to whimper. He couldn't see his Prince, but he was imagining a sort of contemptuous grin, the likes of which had not been seen since Endymion's seldom discussed employment in the Dark Kingdom. Shuddering, he pulled the Tier closer. The only thought playing in his head was to protect the Prince. Self-preservation was beyond him now.
"Zory..." Malachi wiped his face with his palm, unable to look. His fingers trailed along his cheek, coming in contact with something wet. Not blood, but tears. He was crying. That was new.
They'd been doing so well, and now...Now what? Zory was going to die. His Prince was going to be killed as soon as the clone got her Tier back. And then she would either leave the rest of them to suffer or just wipe them off the face of the planet. He was kind of hoping for the latter.
Jed moaned, rolling onto his side so he could face Malachi. He'd come back to consciousness, but he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He could feel broken ribs grate at the his organs, slowly ripping holes in them. He probably had a concussion, and about fifteen minutes of life left.
"This went to hell in a handbasket pretty fast, didn't it?" he coughed, a little blood coming up. Malachi made an unhappy noise of assent.
Mamoru took a step towards Zory, but hesitated. It would be so simple to just reach out and grab the stick from his hand. The blonde might put up a fight, but considering his condition, he would be about as successful as a half-drowned kitten. If he did struggle too much, it would not be difficult to merely break his hand and pull the Tier from the limp fingers. It was so simple, so why didn't he just do it?
A frail moan escaped Zory's lips. He had not expected his death to be this way. He had always been prepared to die for his Prince, of course. But he had hoped that when at last he would be reunited with him, he would get to be with him longer than a few days. It seemed so wrong, to finally find his Prince, only to be killed by him the very next day.
//Prince... I wanted so much to be with you again. All those years we spent together back in the Silver Millenium... they were so long ago, but I still see them as clearly as if they happened yesterday. That was the happiest time in my life, Prince. Do you remember that? Do you remember how happy we were? I always thought that... if only we could get you back again...//
Tears stung Zory's eyes, mixing with the blood on his face as they slid down into his matted copper hair. He couldn't help it. It wasn't just his life he was about to lose; it was that glimmer of happiness that he thought Mamoru could finally return to him. To all of them.
//I thought that maybe... we could have that happiness back.//
"Mamochan! What are you waiting for? Get the Tier and give it back to me!" The false Sailor Moon stood impatiently, hand on hip, watching the carnage with a sort of detached annoyance.
Mamoru bent over Zory, reaching for the oversized wand, the normally shimmering surface of which was smeared with blood and dirt. As his fingertips brushed the tarnished surface, a weak sob made him stop short. His eyes strayed from his goal to the face of his friend. A face which, even through the blood and swelling, was contorted into a horrible combination of fear, anguish, and sorrow. The blonde's breath was coming in short, shaky gasps that made his entire body tremble. Tears streaked through the blood on his cheeks like tiny salty streams.
"Zory..." Mamoru whispered beneath his breath. His mind was screaming at him to just grab the Tier already, but the sight of his smallest friend in this position made him unable to even move. Something was wrong. This was wrong. Zory's hurt. He's hurt, and he needs help.
The effeminate boy fearfully recoiled as Mamoru laid a gentle hand on his forehead. "Shh, it's okay Zory." He pulled the smaller man into his lap, cradling his blonde head in his arm.
"Mamochan, what are you doing?" The clone shouted angrily.
"Zory needs help," Mamoru muttered dimly, sounding as though he was barely awake.
"Mamochan, we don't have time for that! Just get me my wand!" the clone huffed, sounding almost pouty. "They were trying to hurt me, Mamochan!"
"Zory needs help," Mamoru reiterated, trying to focus on that one thing.
"Malachi, I can't see what's going on. Has he...did we get him back?" Jed looked at Malachi expectantly; while he was agonizing over the fact that beating Zory to the point of death was what did it, he clung desperately to the hope that Mamoru was waking up.
"He's coming around," Malachi said quietly. "I just hope it's not too late."
"Prince?" Part of Zory was still afraid Mamoru was going to take this opportunity to crush his head, but his moment of deluded rage had passed, and he was now focused on keeping his friend alive.
Mamoru wiped some of the blood out of his friend's face. "It'll be okay, Zory. I'm going to help you."
Zory seriously hoped that his Prince was telling the truth, considering that he was laying helplessly in his arms, completely blind and too weak to move. He could not begin to express his relief when he felt a golden sort of warmth surround him, soothing his aching body.
"Mamochan, stop it!" The clone stomped her foot irritably. "You're wasting my time!"
"Would you shut the hell up?" Jed groaned, eyeing the clone with distaste.
"I have to help Zory first, Usa," Mamoru said softly. "He's hurt." His brain was apparently glossing over the key bit of information that explained it was his fault that Zory was hurt, but it apparently didn't matter.
Slowly, as though someone turned on all the lights with a dimmer switch, Zory's eyesight returned. His blood vessels began to mend, broken bones knitting back together, nose reset back in its normal position. The glow dimmed a little, and except for the swelling, the bruises and the spilled blood, the last vestiges of his other injuries were gone.
"Prince, you can't give this to her," he said, looking up at Mamoru with still a little trepidation. He was okay now, and that probably meant he was going back to helping "Usako."
"But she needs it." Mamoru was totally perplexed. Why couldn't Usako have her Tier back?
"But she's going to hurt you."
"That's no concern of yours." The clone towered over them both, wings creating ugly shadows, blonde hair obscuring her face as she leaned over. "You're just going to sit her like a good boy while I get back my wand, or I'll blast you straight through the face. And that'd be sad, because you have a pretty face."
Mamoru looked up at her, almost frightened. "Usa, what--?"
The clone reached out a gloved hand to caress his face, the soft fingertips sending a small shiver down his spine. "Dear Mamochan, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. It'll all be over soon, Mamochan. I promise."
He relaxed beneath her touch, letting out a small, relieved sigh. Everything would be okay. It wasn't okay before, but it would be okay now. Usa was here. Zory was safe. She just needed the Tier, and then everything would be okay again. Usa wouldn't hate him anymore and he could explain everything to her and then everything would be good again.
Zory watched the exchange with no small amount of trepidation. As the realization dawned on him that his Prince was just as unstable as ever, his first instinct was to get up and bolt. Only problem was, he was currently lying in Mamoru's arms, and he could see no subtle way of getting out of said arms without throwing the black-haired man into another blind rage.
"Zory," Mamoru said, tearing his still clouded eyes off of his so-called beloved to look down at the blonde, "I need that Tier back."
Zory closed his eyes. "I can't give it to you, Prince. I really, really can't. She's going to hurt you."
//She's going to hurt me, too, but that's just unavoidable today. I want to minimize the casualties. The longer I hold on, the more likely it is that you'll come around. You'll see her for what she really is, Prince.//
"Malachi?" Jed tried to roll over; once had been enough for his body, and he immediately ceased trying.
"What?"
"Can you move?"
"Can you?"
"...Zory's gonna die after all, isn't he?"
"Excuse me, I can hear you!" the little blonde shouted. "I didn't need reminding, thank you."
Mamoru's brow furrowed. "You're not going to die, Zory. I healed you. And Usa just needs her Tier back."
"But I can't give it to her. And I can't give it to you, because you'll give it to her. So one of you is going to kill me to get it back."
Mamoru's brow furrowed. "You're not going to die, Zory. I healed you. And Usa just needs her Tier back."
"But I can't give it to her. And I can't give it to you, because you'll give it to her. So one of you is going to kill me to get it back."
The black-haired prince stared at him confusedly. "Kill you? Usa wouldn't hurt you, Zory. You're my friend. You know I wouldn't hurt you, right?"
"I'm not so sure about that, Prince," Zory said softly, pulling the Tier close to him, both hands squeezing the handle in a white-knuckled grip.
"What are you doing? I need that. I need to give it to Usa. I need to help her, Zory. Don't you understand that?"
Zory silently shook his head. Maybe being healed had not been such a good thing, after all. At least when he was still injured, death had just been a hop, skip, and a jump away. Now he was just healthy enough for his death to be very, very painful.
Neff groaned softly, apparently regaining consciousness.
"Neff?" Jed tried to turn his head to face the auburn-haired man, but failed. "Are you awake?"
The brunette blinked his reddish brown eyes up at the sky, reaching up a hand to clutch his swollen face. "Wha'd I miss?"
"Zory almost dying and now preparing to die again."
"Pardon?"
"The Prince kicked the shit out of him," Jed said, his back to Neff because he still couldn't work up the energy to move. "He managed to keep her wand away from them both, but now they're both towering over him and one of them's going to snap."
"Fuck." Neff hissed; his entire face throbbed when he touched it. Even the thought of sitting up made him ill. "What happened to Malachi?"
"I'm over here with a broken shoulder." The white-haired man sighed. "We've royally fucked this up, guys. I want to be optimistic, but she's got him. His concussion has dulled his senses, and we all know how badly he wants to protect the Princess. It doesn't matter that she looks and feels wrong. She's enough like 'Usako' to confuse him. And no matter how much he'd deny it, he'd protect her over the four of us any day."
Jed and Neff made similar noises, pain and agreement and defeat.
"I should have just taken her out when I had the chance."
//'She's not worth it.'//
"No, Malachi, you did the right thing. It hurts to say that, knowing what's going to happen to the Prince, but..." Neff paused, collecting his thoughts. "But I don't want that Kunzite back. Ever. I want you as a leader, not that sadistic, cold-eyed bastard who punched me in the face if I didn't say his name and rank loud enough."
"Hear, hear," Jed said quietly. "You didn't let him take over. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
Malachi snorted bitterly. "My friend is about to be killed by my Prince. My Prince is about to be killed by an evil clone who looks like his fiancé. And through all this, we're so completely fucked up that we can't so much as bat an eyelash to help either of them. I could have stopped this in time and I didn't. Nothing about this situation makes me proud."
"Yeah, you could've stopped it. And then what? Instead of him, we'd have you trying to gut us alive. Except you'd be twice as sadistic."
Malachi was silent, his green eyes gazing at the equally green grass that his head was resting upon. His good hand dug into the earth, clenching and unclenching around the dirt, ripping up blades of grass by their roots. "But at least you'd still have him," he muttered at last.
The other two were silent. This, at least, was true. Maybe, if the other Kunzite had killed Lunette and tried to kill the rest of them, maybe Mamoru could have escaped. Maybe he would have lived.
"It's not too late," he said suddenly. "I could still do it. He... he doesn't feel pain like we do. He wouldn't be so weak. He could still do it."
Jed turned his head to stare at the pavement. The option was still there. Malachi could bring him back. That Kunzite would kill the clone in seconds, wouldn't even flinch at any pain she or the Prince tried to inflict. But they had no way of knowing if they could pull Malachi back from that place. If they couldn't...If they couldn't, they'd have to kill him. He'd be a threat. And even if they did pull him back, he'd have all of the emotional baggage to deal with again, fresh and burning as if he'd just left the Dark Kingdom again. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. He'd either go insane or kill himself outright. There was no winning outcome for him.
"I don't like the idea of being the Santennou, Malachi," Neff said, something unidentifiable creeping into his voice. "I don't like it at all. I can't stop you from doing this, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to save Mamoru by any means necessary. But I'm selfish." He pounded a fist on the pavement. "I'm selfish and I don't want to lose you! Nephrite is screaming inside of me; he doesn't want to lose Kunzite. But if you do this..."
There was an awkward silence, as hot tears began to slip down Neff's cheeks.
"We're going to die, one way or the other." Jed broke in finally, unable to stand it. "Either it happens when we lose Mamoru, or it happens when we lose you. And I can't pick, Malachi. I don't want to and I can't. I need both of you. I won't have one or the other. I...won't let you do this to yourself."
With a cry of extreme pain and determination, he lunged to his feet, clutching his chest as he did so. Broken ribs or no, he was going out this way. On his feet, not whimpering in a fetal position.
"Neff, you fucking pussy, are you getting up or not?" he snapped, a strange, brilliant light in his eyes as he glared at the brunette by his feet.
Neff gaped up at him, completely dumbfounded. Suddenly a smirk broke out across his battered face, and with a force of will he did not know he had, the brunette shoved himself up off the ground. "Who are you calling a pussy, you bloody sissy?" He sneered, towering over the blonde.
The clone nervously glanced over her shoulder. She didn't have much time left. "Mamochan, hurry up! Grab the Tier and hand it to me."
"But... Zory won't give it to me." Mamoru answered, shaking his head disconcertedly at the blonde in his lap.
"Oh fer... give it here!" The blonde woman reached out to snatch the Tier from Zory's hands, but pull as she might, the effeminate boy remained firmly attached to the weapon. "Mamochan, make him let go!"
Malachi stared at both of them, a strange look in his eye. "Guys... you..." The words faltered on his lips, hanging unsaid between them.
Jed wiped a trickle of blood from his face, looking down at his white-haired friend. "We're going to die either way, Malachi. Me, I'd rather go down swinging. And I'd rather be doing it with someone next to me."
Neff tilted his head good-naturedly, as though he were chatting in the back of a pub, rather than in the midst of what would likely be their last battle. "C'mon, buddy. Hardest part's the first step."
He bent over, hissing in pain all the way, to offer Malachi a hand up. The white-haired man looked up at him, and then over to Jed. He inhaled deeply and took Neff's hand.
"Give it to me, you little snot!" the clone snarled, trying to wrench her Tier out of his grip.
"I'm going to hold on until one of you kills me," Zory explained, tone neutral. His grip didn't waver, even for a millisecond. "You'll have to blow my brains out before I'll let go."
The clone laughed. It was not a nice laugh. "That can be arranged."
"But you have to get your Tier back first." Zory looked at Mamoru, everything about his face set in stone except his eyes. The look in his eyes was almost heartbreaking. //Please, Prince, can't you feel what's wrong? Would your Usako ever say things like that?//
"Mamochan! Are you going to help me or not?"
"Usa, maybe you should just let Zory have it. I don't think he wants to let go."
The clone rounded on him, a vehement look in her eye. "Mamochan," she said lowly, dangerously, "if you do not get that Tier for me, I will no longer love you. I will leave you, Mamochan, do you hear me? I will leave you and you will never see me again and you will be sad and lonely for the rest of your miserable life."
Malachi painfully pulled himself to his feet, leaning on Neff's arm much more than he had intended. His right arm was like a dead weight, hanging heavily at his side, but serving absolutely no purpose. He staggered slightly, but somehow managed to remain upright.
"Quite a trio we make, huh?" Jed said with the faintest of laughs. "Maybe we can smother her to death by collapsing on top of her."
Malachi gave him a small, weary smile. "My, what a valiant end that would make."
Zory regarded Mamoru calmly. "You know that isn't true, Prince. Even if she leaves you, we never will. We will never, ever let you be lonely."
"He's lying, Mamochan," the clone snapped. "You can't trust him as far as you could throw him, although you did throw him very far. I'm the only one you can trust, Mamochan. Do you understand?"
Mamoru's eyes darted back and forth, desperately trying to make sense of the whole mess. Usako wouldn't lie, would she? But neither would Zory. Oh, it was far too difficult for his concussion-numbed brain to handle!
"Mamochan? Do you understand or not?" The clone prompted.
"I... I don't know..."
"Well, if you can't be man enough to make a decision, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." The blonde swung her leg high, and with one sharp kick, cracked the boy across the face with a red high-heeled boot. The Eternal Tier clattered to the ground as his hands went limp, landing next to the woman's feet. "There! That was easy."
Mamoru stared up at her, suddenly feeling afraid but not quite understanding why. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that Zory was laying unconscious in his arms. "Usa...? Why did you do that?"
"Dear Mamochan," she said sweetly, seeming to recover her "innocent girlfriend" act, "that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I have my Tier back. Come here, Mamochan. I want to give you something."
"Zory!" Malachi couldn't see what had happened to the little blonde, but he was predicting that he wasn't going to like it. Before he could even run forward, maybe give the clone a very nice meeting with his fist, Jed grabbed his good arm.
"No, not yet," he hissed. "She's got her wand back. We've gotta--"
"We've gotta what? Wait for her to blow him through another wall?" Neff snarled. Apparently it was too much for his lungs, because his tirade was interrupted by deep, phlegm- and blood-filled coughs.
After a moment and two very pointed looks of concern, he meekly added, "Okay, so maybe we wait."
Mamoru put Zory down on the grass as he stood up, the smaller man flopping like a rag doll. He probably should have been much more concerned about what had just happened, but he wasn't, and the incident was seemingly forgotten. Usa was here, Usa still loved him, Usa wanted to give him something...
"What is it, Usa?" he said, looking almost drunk as he got unsteadily to his feet.
Her hand brushed the side of his face, the silken glove slithering across his skin as it slid around the back of his neck, drawing his head down next to hers. He tilted his mouth towards hers, expecting another kiss, but instead she rested her cheek against his, pulling his ear towards her tantalizing lips. "I have a secret for you, Mamochan," she breathed against his earlobe, making the man melt against her shoulder. "Would you like to hear it?"
Neither seemed to notice that Zory still lay at their feet, little more than a blonde lump between them. If they had tried to stand any closer, one of them would likely have tripped over him.
"Yes, Usa. Tell me."
Suddenly an incredible pain exploded in Mamoru's abdomen, worse than anything he had ever felt before. His eyes widened in shock and agony, his mouth open in a scream of torment that refused to manifest itself.
"Mamoru-kun, you never returned my call. That wasn't very nice of you." Lunette grinned, rows of sharp shark teeth bared at her prey. With a vicious yank, she pulled her blood soaked Tier back out of Mamoru's abdomen. "Of course, it doesn't make much difference now."
"PRINCE!" Malachi wrenched his good arm away from Jed and broke into a run across the courtyard.
Neff screamed out of frustration. "'No, not yet' he says! We could have stopped that!"
"Fuck off, Neff. Just fuck off!" Jed tore off after Malachi, every step a grand effort. He had to pause twice just to catch his breath, and by the time Neff had caught up to him, Malachi was on top of the clone again. Mamoru had slumped over, wound the size of a softball all the way through his stomach. He was too weak to try and stop the bleeding.
"Prince, hold on!" Jed sucked in a deep breath and bent over, moving Mamoru off of a still-unconscious Zory and to his side instead. He took his T-shirt off, revealing a disgusting rainbow of bruises and patches of broken skin. Undaunted, he pressed the shirt on Mamoru's abdomen to slow the bleeding down long enough for him to start healing.
Lunette easily dodged Malachi's aimed blows, laughing maliciously. "You won't do much in your condition, dear. Maybe another day." Growling furiously, he took a swing for her head, but the clone abruptly vanished just as his fist was about to connect, leaving a trail of haunting laughter.
"Zory, can you hear me? You need to wake up, buddy." The blonde groaned as Neff pulled him into a sitting position, pushing curly strands of hair out of his face.
"Wha' happened? Where'd the Prince go?" Zory glanced dazedly around, attempting to get his bearings.
"He's hurt, Zory. I need you to wake up so you can help us."
"What?" Turning his head, he saw for the first time the pale figure who lay bleeding next to him. Realization kicked in as the blood drained from Zory's face. "I... oh, God, Neff... the Tier. I... I couldn't hang onto it."
Malachi rushed past both of them and awkwardly knelt next to Mamoru, appearing calm and in control in every way except for the panicked look in his eyes.
"He's not healing, Malachi," Jed said shakily. "Why isn't healing himself?"
Malachi silently shook his head. He rolled the dark-haired Prince onto his back, gripping his bloodied hand with his good one. "Prince! Open your eyes, Prince. Look at me."
Mamoru's eyes flickered open, staring dully up at the white-haired man. His skin had gone as pale as a sheet, only serving to emphasize the deep crimson blood that was steadily pumping out of his body. "I... I..."
"Don't speak, Prince," Malachi ordered softly, squeezing his hand. Though both their hands were slick with sweat and blood, they gripped one another so tightly that their knuckles turned white. "Listen to me. You need to heal yourself, understand? You need to stop the bleeding."
Mamoru vaguely shook his head. He was shaking all over, and even his lips were starting to look slightly blue.
Frustrated, panicky and rightfully so, Malachi carefully touched what remained of Mamoru's abdominal cavity. He picked up a stain of blood on his hand, and then held it out. "Mamoru, this is what's happening to everything in the vicinity of your waist. If you don't stop it, you're going to die."
From his back, Mamoru looked around at the mess. Neff had finally found the task of standing too great, and had by this time knelt by his Prince's side. Every now and then he coughed, discreetly wiping away whatever blood and mucus appeared on his lips. Well, he thought it was discreet, but no one was missing it. He was still bodily holding Zory up, and while the boy had seemingly recovered from the earlier incident, his face was still a mess and was now swelling on the other side where he'd met Lunette's foot.
Jed nervously chewed on his lip, holding down his shirt on the wound with as much pressure as he dared give without putting his hands into Mamoru's intestines. His breathing was labored, no doubt from half a dozen broken ribs that had begun to rub against his lungs. The smattering of wounds and bruises on his chest only seemed to be getting worse as time went on. It didn't help that his expression was a very strange mixture of panic and "my dog just died."
"Your arm..." Mamoru finally managed to wheeze, looking up at Malachi with no small amount of guilt. He never did guilt in small amounts. "What happened to your arm?"
Malachi squeezed his hand reassuringly, though he was not sure which of them needed the reassuring. "It doesn't matter, Prince. What matters is that we all come away from this alive, and that's not gonna happen if you don't hurry up and take care of yourself."
Mamoru was not listening. He again cast a confused glance around at his friends, his brain trying to make sense of their horrible injuries. They looked like extras from some World War II drama, except all those gashes, bruises, abrasions, and broken bones were not the result of stage makeup. They should have been in the ER, not sitting here worrying about him. But the worst part of all WAS that they were worried about him. Even through their bruised, swollen faces, the eyes that gazed out at Mamoru were filled with nothing but concern for him. Couldn't they see how hurt they were? They were so worried about him that they were putting their own injuries aside to help him. Even though... Even though...
"I did this, didn't I?" he asked faintly, not noticing the hot tears that were rolling down his cheeks.
All four of them exchanged a quick glance. There would be time for discussing all of that later; greater matters were at hand now.
"Prince, don't worry about who did what. Worry about the fact that you're bleeding out and, forgive my lack of medical prowess, that you'll die in approximately ten minutes if you don't stop it." Malachi tried to get a rein on the extreme concern he knew his face was displaying, and on the tears that were burning away at the inside of his eyes. "Even if you do stop it, we may still need to take you to the hospital. Thank God we're at Stanford."
"I'll drive," Neff attempted to say, but was seized by another coughing fit. Zory gently patted his back until the coughing subsided, looking a very interesting shade of ill at the mess that had appeared on his friend's face.
Neff cleared his throat. "Um, anyone got a hanky?"
"Take mine," Zory muttered, trying his best not to look at Neff's face or, for that matter, Mamoru's stomach. He was not altogether fond of bodily fluids, especially when they were outside the body.
Malachi's words seemed to be completely lost on Mamoru. While he could see clearly enough what was wrong with his friends, his mind was having trouble comprehending the horrible condition he was in. Only one thing was on his mind: this was all his fault.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered up at them, a tiny trail of blood falling from the corner of his mouth.
Malachi could no longer stand it. He was through with trying to remain calm.
"Prince, listen to me!" he growled furiously, leaning forward and lifting Mamoru's head with his hand so that his green eyes pierced directly into his Prince's blue ones. "You are dying, do you hear me? I don't care what you've done, I want you alive! I won't forgive you if you die, Prince!"
"But I did this," Mamoru practically whimpered. "I hurt you because I was too blind to..."
His eyes started to slide closed, sentence trailing off. He was losing blood a mile a minute; he wouldn't stay conscious much longer.
"PRINCE!" Malachi's grip on his friend's head tightened violently, shaking him awake. "I don't care if you ripped my arm of and ate it! Heal yourself before I have to do it FOR you!"
Jed's face scrunched in confusion. "We can do that?"
"I sure hope so," Neff muttered, looking down at the borrowed hanky with no small amount of disgust. It had turned a very unusual shade of brown where mucus and blood had mixed together. He'd be getting Zory a new one, for sure.
"I think so," Zory said slowly, "but healing powers don't come naturally to us. Considering our current conditions, it would probably take every ounce of strength we have."
"So, what, we'd die?" Jed asked rather casually, considering the circumstances.
"I think so, yeah."
"Well, if it's only a matter of him or us, what are we waiting for?" Neff cocked an eyebrow.
"No!" Mamoru bellowed, making all four of them jump. "No... you can't..."
"If you want to stop us, Prince, then you'd better hurry up and do it yourself, because we aren't waiting." Malachi held his head firmly, his face so close to Mamoru's that all either of them could see was the other's eyes.
"I can't..." he muttered, his eyelids sliding down again.
"You can, Prince! We're going to help you, alright? We'll give you the energy you need. But you have to do the healing part yourself, understand?"
"Prince, either you step up and get the Golden Crystal working or you will have four very heavy--" Neff eyed Zory. "--three very heavy and one insubstantial corpse to clean up later."
Zory bristled, managing to look indignant even under the bruises. "Hey, I resent that."
"Please?"
The question was so soft, no one even noticed it but Mamoru. In such a close proximity to Malachi, he could hear the tiny cought of a whisper, and could very clearly see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Desperation, fear, hope were all bursting out with just one look; he wasn't going this far to lose his Prince now!
Mamoru could not possibly say no to those eyes; even if Malachi had been asking him to magically turn his hair purple, he would have said yes. To see so many emotions pouring out of his friend's normally indifferent eyes like this was positively heartbreaking.
The dark-haired Prince nodded shortly--a nod that only Malachi could see.
Slowly, a faint glow began to form around Mamoru's body. Compared to the shining brilliance that usually accompanied the Golden Crystal, the light that surrounded him appeared rather dull. Malachi gently laid his Prince's head back on the ground and took his hand again, immediately causing the glow to brighten.
Jed abandoned the sopping bloody mess that was now his T-shirt, and held Mamoru's other hand. The glow intensified; a minimal amount, it looked like, but it was making all the difference. Neff leaned over to Malachi, looking quite pained at the effort, but managed to take his friend's hand anyway. Again, the glow increased.
Inching over on the grass, Zory took Neff's slightly sticky hand in his own, trying to ignore the fact that he was very uneasy about what exactly was making it sticky. The link complete, the golden glow washed over all of them at almost full intensity. The gaping wound in Mamoru's abdomen slowly began to close itself, organs rebuilding holes, skin knitting back together. It was a slow process--they were all exhausted beyond what they'd ever thought possible, including the day before Jed's Intro to Latin Literature final--but eventually, the only thing that remained was a bloody hole in Mamoru's shirt.
Finally assured that their Prince wasn't going to die--yet--the four men let out a sigh of relief in unison. Letting go of the respective hands each was holding, they all felt the sudden urge to fall over and go to sleep.
"We need to get inside," Neff observed, although he didn't look like he much felt like going anywhere.
Malachi watched his Prince's face, concern continuing to linger in his eyes. Even with the assistance of his guardians, healing himself had taken every ounce of strength that Mamoru had left in reserve, and no sooner had the golden light faded then the black-haired Prince had slipped from consciousness, the hand that clung to Malachi's falling limp between his fingers. His hand felt cold, even under the midday sun, and was as sickly a shade of pale as the rest of him.
"Neff, I know you're exhausted, but do you think you can carry him?"
"Oh, sure. I already feel like I've been run over by a tractor, why not throw another 170 pounds on my back?"
Malachi sighed, pushing his silver hair out of his face in an infinitely weary manner. "Look, I wouldn't ask you if I had two functional arms, but at the moment I can't really do much."
"Relax, Malachi," the brunette grunted as he pushed himself up off the lawn. "I never said I wouldn't do it."
"I'll help." Jed eyed his shirt with much trepidation; he didn't want to bring it in and have to put it in the wash, but he didn't want to throw it in the garbage and risk having to explain it. For the moment, he set it down at his feet and carefully began to shoulder the unconscious Mamoru. "Zory, can you move under your own power, or do you need help?"
Zory experimentally got to his feet; he wobbled a little, but seemed to be stable after a moment. "I'm fine. If I need help, I'll stop; no sense in having yet another person passing out."
"How's your chest?" Malachi asked quietly, as Neff slipped his neck under Mamoru's free arm to give him support.
"Well, I got some lovely biofeedback from all that healing. Good news, I'm not going to cough all the blood out of my body. Bad news, I still feel like shit." He craned his head backwards to look at Jed. "On the count of three, let's move before I fall over. One, two, three."
With matching groans of part pain and part manly strength, the two men walked shakily towards the back door of the frat house. The white-haired man let out a breath when they finally managed to get inside.
"Malachi, we need to get you to the hospital. Your arm is still in rotten shape." Zory eyed the useless limb critically. It wasn't going to fall out of the socket at a moment's notice, but it was still broken, and Mamoru would be in no shape to heal it for a very long time. By then, the damage would be done.
The white-haired man slowly began to shift his feet beneath him in order to try and stand. He was forced to pause part way; his earlier injuries were making him dizzy, and it was difficult maintaining his balance with his one hand gripping the ground. "I'm not going anywhere. At least, not until he's doing better."
"Malachi, you can't just be walking around with a broken shoulder. We don't even know how bad it is. Heck, what if they need to operate--"
"Which is exactly why I'm not going to the hospital. Between all the waiting, the x-rays, whatever treatment I need, I could be there all night, Zory. Heck, if it's bad enough, I might be stuck in there for days. By that time, that freaking Lunette thing would have already attacked, and I'd be too morphined up to even haul myself out of bed, let alone do anything to help." His tone became rather distracted as he experimentally shifted his weight, trying to figure out how to pull himself upright without ending up flat on his face.
The blonde stood watching his green-eyed friend, arms crossed in a rather irate manner. "And how much help do you think you'll be like this? For God's sake, you can't even stand up!"
"Zory, I--"
"You're not arguing with me, Malachi." The blonde's tone echoed that exact sentiment. He was dead serious--well, thankfully not dead, but serious all the same. "You are going to the hospital, and you are going to have your arm checked, and I will do whatever it takes to get you there even if it requires hitting you over the head with a frying pan to get you in the car."
Malachi finally decided he'd gotten his balance. With a grunt and a swift push, he was on his feet--
--and immediately flat on his face in the grass.
Zory squashed the urge to laugh in a nanosecond. "Idiot. Just let me help you up, okay?"
Considering his situation, the white-haired man could do little more than swallow his pride and allow the blonde to help him to his feet. He tried not to lean on the smaller man too much, but at the moment his knees felt so wobbly that he could not help but depend on him as Zory guided him towards the frat house parking lot.
By some miracle, Malachi had been the last to use the vehicle that the four fratboys shared, when he had made a quick run for party supplies--namely beer--a few nights ago. If either Neff or Jed had the keys, they would have to drag themselves all the way back to the frat house, and Malachi was not sure whether he could make the journey. He slumped heavily against the side of the 1985 Park Place Oldsmobile--a dark blue monster of a car that was only protected from rusting to death by the thick layer of bumper stickers that had been plastered across its surface--while Zory unceremoniously dug into his jeans pocket in search of keys.
"You know, I could have gotten those for you," Malachi said dryly, as Zory triumphantly pulled the well-loved keychain out of his back pocket.
"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have had an excuse to fondle you. Do you need help getting in?" Zory opened the driver's side door and started throwing out empty beer cans that had collected there. He found it very difficult to drive when empty Miller Lites rolled under the brake petal.
Malachi choked. "You wouldn't have had an excuse to WHAT?"
Zory held up a still-full six pack, and tossed it into the back seat. He ignored the question fully. "Do you need help getting in, or don't you?"
"I still want to know about this fondling thing."
"After we get your arm set. I'm counting to three, and then I am going to pick you up and put you in the car myself."
Malachi burst out laughing, gripping at the roof of the car in an attempt to keep upright. "You couldn't even pick me up halfway without collapsing!"
Zory got out of the car and stared the white-haired man down viciously. "Want to test me?"
"As tempting as that sounds, I think you've been crushed enough times today without adding myself to the problem. No sense in both of us having to visit the ER tonight."
The blonde gave him a small grin, then returned to clearing off the floor, grabbing handfuls of empty Burger King wrappers and tossing them in the back seat.
Malachi looked down at the car door next to him, realizing that there was really no way he could remain standing while trying to open it with his left hand. He tried a few unsuccessful maneuvers to keep himself leaning on the car while freeing up his left hand to open the door, but to no avail. Finally, he was forced to sigh, defeated. "Zory..."
"What?" Zory's head popped up, his arms laden with beer bottles and Big Mac containers.
"Will you open the door for me, please?"
The blonde leaned across the front seat and pushed the door open. He smirked up at his white-haired friend. "What was that about needing help?"
"...You know, I could think of a lot of things to say to that, but taking your new fetish for touching me into account, I think I'll opt out of all of them and just settle for a 'thank you.'" Malachi winced as he sat down; his arm may have been useless, but his shoulderblade did not like having pressure on it from the back or, well, any angle really. He buckled his seat belt and tried to lean forward in such a way that he wouldn't shout obscenities every time Zory hit a pothole.
"As well it should be." The driver's side finally clean (although the backseat was a mess), Zory climbed inside and shut the door. When he put his seatbelt on, the CHECK ENGINE light came on. When he put the key in the ignition, his seat tilted backwards.
"I love this car," he muttered, trying to get the senile vehicle to start and fix his seat at the same time.
//I hope I even make it to the hospital,// Malachi thought, bemused, as the car finally lurched to life and went rolling at approximately two miles an hour out of the parking lot. It barely missed colliding with a campus security cart before pulling out on the main road.
Malachi tried his best to lean away from anything that would cause him further pain--namely everything--but even the tiniest bump in the road jostled him either against the seat behind or the seatbelt before. Zory was at least trying to drive smoothly, he could tell, although one could only manage so well when surrounded by crazy California drivers. Even so, he was inwardly relieved to have Zory--the careful one--in the driver's seat, rather than the two speed demons whose sole purpose in life was apparently to put the poor Oldsmobile into retirement. Speaking of that... "Shouldn't we tell Neff and Jed where we're going? You know, so they don't get all worried and think we died on the way into the frat house?"
The car came to a stop at a red light, giving Malachi a moment's relief from the jarring movement. "I'll call them from the hospital while you're having your arm checked out."
"When you do, could you ask them to stay with the Prince? I don't think he should be left alone right now."
Zory nodded, his green eyes watching the red light plaintively. "They'll take care of him. He'll be alright, Malachi."
The white-haired man sighed as the light turned green, preparing for the rest of the painful journey. //I certainly hope so.//
---
Well, it looks like our notes have offended some of you.
We're sorry to anyone who took our comments as a personal attack, but when you're on the receiving end of email and review after email and review of, "Oh, it's a good story, but when will the Senshi show up?" you will cease being amused by it. Did we ever imply that you are all "dumb, deaf freaks?" We certainly hope not, because that would be incredibly stupid on our parts to insult the people who seem to be enjoying this fic.
Did we react bluntly to this subject? Yes, we did. Do we think it amounts to being condescending or callow? It's in the eye of the beholder, we suppose, and if you took it that way, then there's nothing we can really do to change it. We stand by our comments, however harsh you may have taken them to be. And if you decide not to read this fic anymore, it's not a worry of ours. No one is forcing you to read it. We will continue to write even if only one person isn't totally disgusted with us.
If you still feel the need to tell us how rude and immature we are, please, go ahead and do so. But please, don't be rude and immature when you do it. That doesn't get anyone anywhere. We will no longer be putting as many author notes in, seeing as how they apparently do more harm than good. However, we still stand by what we have said, and if you still have a problem with our past notes or where this fic is going, you are welcome to take it up with us.
For the rest of you who don't think we're rude, awful scum of the Earth, keep reading! You may yet change your minds!
~Spirit-hime and AngelAnne
Chapter 6
//anything between slashes are thoughts//
----
It was surprising to Malachi, who had not yet recovered from the quick blood drain from his face, that Mamoru looked more angry than afraid of the very large sharp thing poised right atop his jugular. One wrong move, one breath too big, and it would all be over. But his prince looked positively livid, which was not a particularly enjoyable thing to be positioned under.
Mamoru gritted his teeth. How was he going to get Harmony away from Malachi without having his own head sliced off? There were a lot of things the Golden Crystal could fix, but being beheaded was not one of them. At least, he was pretty sure about that. He didn't really want to experiment to find out.
Of course, there was one thing he could try. But would it actually be possible? Certainly, he had picked up quite a few new tricks since he had started using his crystal, but that did not mean he could manage this. Although, it would not necessarily require him to do it well, merely to do it fast. It was worth a shot, in any case.
"Teddykins n' I were so happy to come play with you. Too bad we have to cut it short." Harmony adjusted her grip on the handle of the huge Glaive, preparing to swing it in such a way that it would slice through his throat in a single, clean arc.
Malachi felt his blood run cold as he watched Mamoru close his eyes. //He's just going to let it happen... After all that, he's going to die after all...//
"Goodbye, Mister."
"PRINCE!" Four voices screamed simultaneously as the giant blade came swinging down...
Only to strike empty air.
"Looks like you missed." Mamoru smirked, standing on top of Malachi's bed as though he'd totally meant to get up there. "Malachi, move!"
The white-haired man didn't hesitate. He rolled to the right, avoiding a collision with a very pointy Glaive, just as a black-haired denim blur lept into the air and on the small child.
Harmony let out an ear-piercing screech as a very large body came crashing down on top of her. "That -hurts-! I'll show you not to roughhouse with me!"
"No, you won't." Grabbing her by the pigtails, Mamoru hoisted her to her feet and then quickly teleported outside. He wasn't taking the chance of going through yet another window.
"Let go of me, you big meanie head!" Harmony tried to wrench her pigtails out of his grip, but when she failed to escape Mamoru's strong hands she took a swing at him with her Glaive. He dodged just in time, giving her a small shove as he released her hair to throw her off-balance.
As the little girl stumbled back, Mamoru suddenly found himself surrounded by four brown capes. Kunzite smirked at him. "I see you've finally figured out teleportation."
Mamoru smirked back. "I'm still not done with you yet."
"We can finish our little conversation later."
"Oh good, so I can continue kicking your ass."
"I'll be looking forward to it."
"Look, save the bedroom banter for after, okay?" Nephrite muttered, watching the little lacey girl with an evil look. She wasn't going to get close enough to do any more potential damage, not while he was standing.
Harmony stomped her feet angrily. "You're mean! It was supposed to be clean and quick and now you've made it all complicated!"
"Stop moaning and start fighting, pipsqueak!" Zoisite snapped angrily.
"Fine!" The little girl charged at Zoisite, wildly brandishing her Glaive.
Expecting her attack, Zory shot his hand out, and suddenly felt himself being engulfed by flames as a giant fiery bird materialized above his head. Harmony let out a scream and ducked, covering her head, as the blazing bird soared towards her, miniscule flames dropping from its massive eagle-like wings like burning feathers. Or rather, like flaming flower petals.
The little bursts of flame lit her outfit on fire, and she frantically tried to smother each before she was burned to a crisp.
"Here, let me put that out for you!" Jadeite called, putting out his hand. A familiar water dragon sprang forth, soaking the little girl to the bone and slamming her into the pavement still faintly bloody from previous encounters.
"Dead Scream."
Before you could say "get down," Nephrite and Kunzite had immediately thrown themselves on top of Mamoru in an effort to protect him. The main result of this was their prince going, "Ow."
"Do I need to remind you guys how heavy you are?" he groaned from his rather squished position on the ground.
"Oi, show a little gratitude for the people who are protecting you," Nephrite grumbled, sounding a tad insulted.
"Protecting me doesn't mean crushing me, but thanks anyway."
"Thought you'd get off easy, didn'cha Prince?" Sanura sneered, pointing her Time Key replica at them. "We're not quite finished with ya yet."
"Oh good. Here I was, afraid you'd forgotten all about me."
"What's the plan?" Zoisite hissed, leaning over to Kunzite. "It's two against four, but that blonde is still missing in action, and I don't want to run the risk that they have any more friends."
"Lead those two away from the prince. Nephrite and Jadeite can keep him covered for now," the leader whispered back. "The further away the sharp implements, the better off he is."
"Fine with me."
Kunzite turned to face Sanura, suppressing a grin as behind him he heard the distinct roar of a fire bird flaring up, and the subsequent scream of the little girl.
Sanura snorted, subconsciously adjusting her leather outfit. "Looks like the Prince got hisself some friends. Not that it'll matter much. Garnet Ball!"
Kunzite sneered at the woman before him. "My turn," he growled viciously. Without so much as a blink, his eyes went from green to bright, glowing silver. Shadows undulated around him, seeming to plunge the entire world into darkness like a sudden eclipse. In the thick, murky blackness some great thing was shifting. Only a few glimpses of the shadowy beast could be seen through the darkness--the huge faintly glistening scales upon a curved black shell, the tip of an enormous winglike fin, a single eye, glowing with that same penetrating silver light.
"Jadeite?" Nephrite said quietly, gently knocking heads with his blonde friend. "Did he just create a really big turtle?"
"Uh huh," Jadeite confirmed eloquently.
It was, in actuality, a tortoise, but considering Nephrite probably hadn't seen one in quite a number of years, Mamoru figured it wasn't necessary to clarify. But a tortoise it was indeed, shining faintly like well-polished obsidian, obscuring ninety percent of the light that should have been present so early in the day. It was enormous, dwarfing all of the fighters assembled on the playground, the streetlights, the trees, and even the frathouse. With all the grace that thousands of years of the evolutionary equivalent of gold stars and happy faces provide, the giant creature opened its cavernous mouth, inside of which were positively thousands of brilliant, pin-pricked sized glimmers of light. With one quick "snap," it swallowed Sanura whole, which was succeeded by an enraged scream.
"Am I ever glad I'm on your good side," Zoisite muttered, eyeing the white-haired man in a mixture of wariness and awe.
The massive tortoise arched its head upwards towards the sky, its scaly onyx skin shining as it moved, the barely-visible beak turned up in a sort of solemn smile; grinning as only a tortoise can. With as little fanfare as had accompanied its appearance, the mammoth creature vanished in a gust of broken shadows, leaving a battered Sanura in its wake.
"That thing's gonna give me nightmares now," Jadeite said with a shudder. "That's freaking creepy, Kunzite."
Kunzite grinned, the silver glow fading from his eyes. "Thank you."
Harmony blinked as daylight once again returned, only to find a smirking Zoisite standing over her. Sparks danced in the palm of his hand, ready to regenerate the terrifying bird. "Ready to continue our game, love?"
"Get away from me!" she yelled, trying to club the blonde over the head with the business end of her Glaive. Thinking fast, Zoisite fell onto his back and swiped the little girl's feet out from under her with his own.
"Yer a feisty one," Sanura wheezed, failing in an attempt to get to her feet. "Didn't expect to get knocked down by a tortoise."
"They never do," Kunzite said, smirking.
"Naw, I s'pose not," she panted heavily, leaning awkwardly on her staff. Suddenly she leapt up with an eloquent "NNGAAA!", Time Key swinging, and clubbed him in the jaw. "Didn't expect that, didja?"
Kunzite stumbled briefly from the unexpected blow, but recovered almost immediately. "No, I didn't," he answered, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. She smirked, taking a second swing, but he was more than prepared this time, and easily blocked the blow with his arm before neatly planting an armoured knee in her stomach.
"What am I supposed to do, just stand here?" Mamoru asked irritably, not used to just sitting back and watching his friends fight for him.
"Well, it's somewhat better than getting your head chopped off, Prince," Nephrite answered, keeping a careful lookout for anything that could endanger his Prince.
"Hey, I'm not used to being on this end of the fight. I mean, my job is usually 'Jump In Front of Pointy Things Headed for Sailor Moon.' Or 'Get Brainwashed and Die, Not Necessarily at the Same Time.'"
"Get used to it, Prince!" Zoisite shouted, barely escaping a transformation into two very dead halves, courtesy Harmony. "You're the Sailor Moon of this fivesome, and you're just going to sit back until it's time for you to pull out your metaphorical wand and shower us in metaphorical sparkles!"
Mamoru testily crossed his arms. "As long as I'm not expected to wear a skirt and tie my hair up in pigtails."
"Not unless we get you really drunk first." Jadeite flashed him a quick smirk, before again turning his attention outward. He looked even more edgy than Mamoru about standing back while the other two fought, and eventually resolved his tension by calling up his dragon and allowing it to pace around the three, swimming in lazy arcs and swoops through the air.
Mamoru watched the fight in a most fidgety sort of way, taking in sharp breathes any time Zoisite or Kunzite took a blow. As though the idea had just come about, he finally transformed, his dingy, bloodied shirt and jeans morphing into an all-familiar tuxedo. He idly though about changing those clothes soon, perhaps at a moment when his life wasn't hanging in the balance.
"Dead Scream."
Jadeite's water dragon swooped down, knocking away the potent ball of energy before it could even get halfway to Kunzite. Unfortunately, as the dragon dissipated, it knocked the attack in another direction, and sent it straight at the two guardians and their Prince.
Seeing that they had no time, Nephrite grabbed Mamoru by the arm and threw him forcefully aside. He hadn't even landed on the grass when he heard the dual shouts of pain.
Jadeite was forcibly slammed on his back, but Nephrite shakily stood his ground. "Is that all?" He growled as the attack faded, wavering slightly on his feet.
"Certainly packs a punch, doesn't she?" Jadeite coughed. After scrambling off the ground himself, Mamoru rushed over to help him to his feet.
"Your dragon needs to work on his aim, Jadeite."
"Hey, I didn't see any felines helping out there, thank you very much."
"I was conserving my energy, thank you very--"
"Can it!" Kunzite shouted, just as he took the heart-shaped end of a Time Key to his stomach. He groaned, just as Sanura gave it a repeat performance.
Before any of the Shitennou could get an attack in the air, there was a loud, unexpected cry of "Crescent Beam!"
Jadeite threw himself on top of Mamoru while Nephrite remained standing in front of both of them, taking the brunt of the attack.
"Stop doing that!" The black-haired prince shouted, trying to scramble out from beneath Jadeite.
"Would you shut up and let us protect you?" The blonde half-whined, practically sitting on Mamoru to keep him from getting up again.
"Protecting me is one thing. Acting as human shields is something else altogether."
"You five are positively pathetic," Miniya drawled, perched daintily on the roof of the frat house. "Did you like my little gift earlier?"
"Yeah, it was bloody wonderful," Nephrite wheezed, barely staying on his feet.
Miniya smiled, showing her teeth. They were very, very white and very, very sharp. "I'm so glad. Venus Love and Beauty Shock!"
Mamoru writhed underneath the weight of the blonde on top of him, but Jadeite didn't budge. "Look, hold off, okay? You have three Senshi to dust, and the longer you save energy, the less likely it is that you'll pass out."
"You're just going to sit on top of me while Nephrite gets his ass kicked?"
"Yeah, you're damn right that's what I'm going to do," Jadeite snapped. "Because that's our job. I know you're new to this whole 'being protected' thing, but this is part of it. People get hurt. People who aren't you, specifically."
Nephrite stumbled backwards and nearly landed on top of the pair. He snarled at the woman on top of the roof, his expression nearly matching the ethereal tiger that appeared in front of him.
"I see nothing good about that arrangement!" Mamoru barked, trying to buck Jadeite off of him. The blonde was much quicker than he appeared, however, and with one swift move he had the Prince's arm wrenched painfully behind his back.
"Don't make me hurt you, Prince. You know I would if I had to."
"No, you wouldn't."
Jadeite tugged on his prince's arm, not enough to dislocate it but enough for him to curse quietly in pain. "Yes, I would. Now you are going to hold the fuck still, Prince, you hear me?"
"I hate you, Jed," Mamoru snarled, glaring lopsidedly upward at the guardian on top of him.
"Yeah, love you too, you drama queen."
Miniya yelped as the tiger nearly unseated her from her perch on the roof. "Nice trick!" She shouted at Nephrite, clinging to the shingles. "Rolling Heart Vibration!"
Kunzite tried to keep himself focused on the leather-clad woman who was intently attempting to give him a concussion with her staff, but his Prince's feelings of fear and rage were steadily escalating in the back of his mind. As much as he wanted to applaud Jadeite for keeping Mamoru out of harm's way, the black-haired man's excess emotions were becoming nearly unbearable, and he was tempted to yell at Jadeite to just let him go. If only they could make him understand that what they were doing was no different from all the times he had thrown himself in front of an attack for Usagi!
The giant tiger absorbed Miniya's attack easily, spraying bits of energy around in brief gusts of wind.
"Your turn, Jadeite." Nephrite coughed, collapsing onto his back. He didn't have the energy to stay on his feet any longer.
"If you move, I'm coming back here and tickling you to death," Jadeite warned severely - he meant it. Letting go of the black-haired man's arm, he stood up, eyeing Miniya as one might eye a poisonous spider.
Ignoring Jadeite's warning, Mamoru rushed to Nephrite's side, gently laying a hand on the man's forehead. Blood stained his white uniform in several places and more than a few cuts and bruises were already beginning to swell up on his face. "Don't worry about me, Prince," he wheezed painfully, giving Mamoru a broken smile. "It's not too bad. I just need a break."
"'Not too bad' my ass," Mamoru snarled. He could sense how badly Nephrite was hurt as easily as if it were his own body. "I'll get you healed up, and--"
"No! Prince, please, you need to save your strength."
"The longer I 'save my strength' the more the four of you are getting hurt. I can't just sit here and not help you."
"Just hold off, okay? I'll be fine until you vaporize the--" Nephrite had to stop when he began to cough, violently at that. He rolled onto his side, curled up in a fetal position. He was most definitely in need of healing.
That was the last straw. Mamoru rolled his friend over on his back again, acquiring his familair golden glow. "The longer I wait, the more I have to lose, Nephrite. I'm not going to wipe myself; I'm just going to keep you from dying. Is that acceptable?"
"Okay, fine," the brunette muttered, trying hard to squash a smile.
Once he began healing his friend, Mamoru found it very difficult to hold back. It was as though the Golden Crystal was as instinctively eager to heal as he was, and if it were not for Jadeite's pointed glare, he probably would have taken care of every last paper cut and hangnail that the brunette was suffering from. Once he was sure that all of the lethal wounds were gone and that Nephrite would not be in nearly as much pain as he had been, he forced himself to swallow the rest of his power, and the golden aura faded. "Better?"
Nephrite winced slightly as he sat up, but his breathing was no longer as ragged. "Much. Thanks, Prince."
Mamoru thought to reply, but his words were cut short by Zoisite's scream. A swift move by Harmony had clipped the blonde across the shoulder with the sharp end of her Glaive, nearly taking his whole arm off. He already looked more than a little battered, but he nevertheless flicked his tangled hair out of his face and prepared to block another swipe by the delinquent child.
Nephrite grabbed Mamoru by the arm before he ran off to help. "As much as Jadeite will give me hell for it later, I'm going to go help Zoi. Just stay here and don't commit suicide while I'm gone, okay?"
"Shut up, Neph," the prince snapped, although he didn't really mean it.
"Yeah, yeah, you know you love me."
Mamoru cursed under his breath as he watched the brunette run towards Zoisite, a prominent limp in his step. It was just so frustrating to be sitting back while his friends were getting hurt for him. What good was having the Golden Crystal if he could not even use it to help the people he loved? //I guess I can't really blame them. They are just trying to protect me.// He idly rubbed the arm which Jadeite had pinned back, still feeling the dull ache in his muscles. //Perhaps a little TOO much.// They were acting as though they were trying to make up for the twenty years of his life when they had not been there for him. As much as he appreciated the effort, the Shitennou, as dearly as Mamoru loved them, were trying too hard. Twenty years was an awful lot to fit into one battle, after all.
But they were obviously determined to make up for all they'd missed, he realized as he watched Nephrite take a swing at Harmony, the punch sending her reeling. They weren't holding back, which was mighty thoughtful, but they were being reckless. They weren't trying hard enough to avoid injury; they blocked, they dodged, but it wasn't as skillful as Mamoru had expected from them.
"Zoi, go get the Prince to fix your arm," Nephrite said quietly, as he grabbed on of Harmony's flying pigtails and tossed her roughly aside. "And stay by him. We'll rotate, okay?"
"I'm not going anywhere until that Goth girl is taken care of," Zoisite snarled, clutching his bloody arm as he stood next to Nephrite. His ponytail had fallen out, leaving a disheveled mane of blonde hair that partially obscured his face. His green eyes glared out from between the wavy strands, challenging anyone to tell him otherwise. Zory may have taken a lot of grief about being small, but he could be downright vicious when he wanted to be.
"I'm not gonna argue with you, but someone needs to stay with him, and you're barely holding up as it is."
The blonde blinked, incredulous. "You mean, you just left him standing there?"
"Well, it was either that, or let you drop your arm off."
"Thanks." Zoisite looked back at Mamoru, who was standing in the middle of the chaos and looking entirely perplexed. He hesitated for a moment as Nephrite blocked a well-placed kick from Harmony.
"Just hurry up and go!" Nephrite commanded. "It wouldn't do for all of us to be too distracted by fighting to actually protect the person we're fighting for." With a resigned sigh, Zoisite took off towards the black-haired Prince.
Mamoru met him part way, for which the blonde was immensely thankful. As much as he would have liked to finish that little fight, he knew that he was more than a little beaten up, and running was certainly not helping the matter any. He winced as the Prince inspected his arm, which was now soaked in blood.
"This is pretty deep, Zoisite. I'd better heal it right away."
"I didn't come here for you to heal me, Prince. I just thought you might like some company."
"Oh, I cherish every moment we spend together." Mamoru's hands immediately started glowing. "Hold still while I do this, or I make out with you to keep you from moving."
"...You're quite the interesting one for threats, Prince."
"I do what I have to."
Obviously not wanting to risk a tongue-lock in the middle of a heated battle, Zoisite stood silently, impatiently as his prince worked his magic.
"Relax," Mamoru said, smiling. "I'm not going to drain myself, okay? Nothing good will come if your arm falls off or you bleed to death."
"Aren't you going to feel silly if you faint later because of this?" Zoisite raised an eyebrow. "Because I'll be sure to make you feel silly."
"Your compassion is long and wide, Zoisite, but I'm not particularly concerned about that right now."
Mamoru expertly ran his fingers along the gaping wound, working with the golden glow around him. There was a cry of "Chronos Typhoon!" followed by an anguished yelp from Kunzite. Almost at that same moment, Mamoru doubled over, nearly screaming himself.
"Prince! Are you alright?"
Mamoru dimly shook his head. He had felt that! Kunzite was halfway across the lawn, but somehow, he could feel his pain. //No, not just Kunzite's. Everyone's.// It was as though someone had flipped a switch to turn on senses he was not even aware that he had. He could feel, without knowing how, which pain belonged to who. He could feel the throb in Zoisite's arm, the many aches in Nephrite's chest, the burns on Jadeite's skin, and the countless bruises that covered Kunzite's body. Maybe it was because he was using the Golden Crystal, but somehow, his power, his psychometry, whatever he could call it, was stretching far beyond his normal abilities.
And if there was anything worse than watching his guardians get the snot beaten out of them, it was feeling it as keenly as he were in all four places at once. It was too much. He couldn't stand seeing it, and he definitely couldn't stand feeling it like a human pincushion. Enough of this damn standing around.
He let go of the blonde's arm, which had healed enough to keep him from dying within the next twenty minutes. He'd have to finish it up later.
Zoisite saw Mamoru scanning the battle, obviously looking for a place he could help. "Prince, just hold off a few more minutes, okay? We've got this covered."
Mamoru glared pointedly at Zoisite's arm. "Oh yeah, that's what I call 'covered,' alright."
He turned back to the battle, watching the three individual fights that were taking place in scattered pairs across the lawn. Jadeite was relying heavily on his water dragon to protect him from Miniya's various long-distance attacks. Unfortunately, it only held up against one attack at a time before being destroyed in a splatter of droplets, and for every one of Miniya's blasts of orange energy that the dragon blocked, the blonde himself was hit at least two more times.
Nephrite was holding up well enough against Harmony, considering he was twice her size but completely unarmed, but Mamoru could feel his earlier wounds slowing him down, and he had several fresh gashes from the pretentious child.
Kunzite seemed to be in the worst shape. Neither he nor Sanura had so much as paused for breath since she had taken the first swing at him. No sooner would one gain the advantage then the other would jump up swinging, and they would again return to their perpetual combat, too closely locked in battle to even notice the others fighting around them.
Zoisite sighed quietly, stepping in front of Mamoru's line of vision. "Prince, just relax, okay? Getting hurt is just what happens in battle--you, of all people, should know--and worrying about them isn't going to help."
Of course, the black-haired man totally disregarded everything he had just been told when Nephrite screeched loudly in pain. Mamoru let out a scream of his own--he could feel that slash as keenly as if it was his own body. The wound went all the way across the brunette's chest, quickly soaking his white uniform crimson as he frantically tried to clamp his hands on it in an attempt to keep from bleeding to death.
That was more than enough for Mamoru. He was done with waiting, and he was done with letting his friends get hurt. Every warrior on the battlefield paused in midstep as the frathouse lawn flooded with blinding golden light. "Prince, no!" Zoisite shouted, trying to hold back the black-haired man. With a forceful shove, Mamoru dislodged the blonde and charged towards Harmony, fury burning golden in his eyes.
The little girl was bent over Nephrite, the tip of her Glaive against his throat. Mamoru knew very well how it felt to be at the business end of that weapon, and the sight of one of his guardians being in the same position only served to double his anger. Before he had covered half the distance, his hand shot out. "Tuxedo Mirage!"
Harmony glanced up--far too late--and caught sight of the stream of golden light charging towards her. Her childlike smile faded into a look of absolute fear, and for a fraction of a second the Prince could see her large dark eyes staring past the attack and into his. She vanished in a burst of light and shimmering dust, just as Mamoru snatched the Glaive out of her hands and away from Nephrite's Adam's apple.
Nephrite let out a great sigh of relief when the pointy blade moved from his line of sight. Mamoru looked at him with no small amount of concern, and quickly said, "Don't die in the next five minutes, okay?" before turning on his heels, menacing gleam in his eye. He twirled the Glaive in his hand as though he knew exactly how to wield it.
Kunzite and Sanura were still at each other's throats, having stopped for barely more than half a second to allow their eyes to adjust to the light. Wielding the Silence Glaive in both hands, Mamoru raced towards the two, ignoring shouted protests from both Zoisite and Jadeite.
"Kunzite, duck!" he bellowed, swinging the weapon as though he had been using it his entire life. The tangled head of silver hair dropped to the ground, moments before the blade sliced through where Kunzite's back had been, straight into Sanura's chest.
The mohawked clone choked in surprise, her crimson eyes growing wide. Her dark hands felt along the Glaive's long handle, as though feeling to see if it was really there. She wheezed, looking up at Mamoru, an ironic sort of smile on her face. "Been... nice knowin' ya... Prince..."
"I wish I could say the same." With the woman speared roughly on the Glaive, she was an immobile target, and Mamoru used this to his advantage. "Tuxedo Mirage!"
Sanura inhaled sharply; considering she was already gored through and through, the blast of light wasn't really any more painful. It was just a surprise, of sorts, but she didn't have long to reflect on it. Within seconds, her body disintegrated, leaving nothing but a little blood on the Glaive.
Kunzite stood up slowly, brushing the equivalent of Moondust! from his jacket. "Glad to see you're having fun."
Mamoru sneered at the comment. He would not exactly categorize the vaporizing of psychotic female clones in order to protect his friends from certain death as "fun".
Kunzite watched his Prince warily. He did not need a special connection with him to see that he was seething. "I know you're angry..."
"That's an understatement," Mamoru snapped.
"...But you know why we're doing this. You know why."
"Yeah, I do. And that's what frustrates me so much. You're all so bloody eager to protect me in this battle, there won't be any of you left for the next one." As he spoke, pain suddenly exploded in Mamoru's chest, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs. He turned anxiously towards Jadeite. The blonde had not even screamed that time.
"Please, Prince," Kunzite said softly, grabbing a glowing arm. "You've already taken care of two of them. Just let us get the last one, alright?"
Mamoru sighed, relenting. "Fine. You go take care of the last one. I have to make sure Nephrite hasn't bled out."
"Yes. You go do that, Mister Med Student. We'll go toast her." Before his prince could argue, Kunzite let go of his arm and turned abruptly on his heels, already powering up to decimate the last of the clones.
With another sigh, Mamoru turned his attention back to the bleeding brunette.
"You're pretty good with that thing, Prince," Nephrite said, after a furious coughing fit. "You sure you're not meant to be the Senshi of Death and Rebirth?"
"Shut up or I stick my hand in your chest cavity," the black haired man muttered, glowing hands hovering over the gaping wound.
Obviously not enjoying the mental image of someone touching his internal organs, the brunette sat silently, watching Mamoru heal him for the second time that day. When the black-haired Prince had finished, he heaved a sigh of relief, grateful to be able to breathe again. "Thanks again, Prince. I owe ya for this."
"You don't owe me anything, Nephrite." Mamoru offered him a hand, which the brunette gladly accepted, and helped him to his feet. "Just stop getting hurt so much. You're almost as bad as Kunzite."
"I heard that!" Kunzite shouted, planting his elbow in Miniya's gut to get away from the death grip around his neck.
"Oh, you know it's true," Zoisite shot back, still nursing his nearly removed arm. "Mister 'I Think I'll Take a Silence Glaive to the Gut.'"
"It was either--ow!--the Prince or myself," he grunted, rubbing his jaw as the blonde clone circled him. "I'll take my chances."
"That's what I worry about," Mamoru muttered.
"Heard that, too."
"You know, you're listening an awful lot for someone who should be concentrating on staying alive."
"Hey, haven't you ever heard of multitasking?" He groaned as Miniya jumped on his back, wrapping two exceptionally long arms around his neck. "Someone wanna get her off of me?"
"Duck."
"What?"
"Just do it!" Nephrite left no room for argument. Kunzite did just as he was told - he ducked his head and tried to curl away from the woman who was holding him as a giant, translucent tiger bore down, teeth bared, and sent Miniya flying. The white-haired man was abruptly sent to the ground, no longer being assaulted from behind.
"Thanks," he panted, glad that he was able to breathe again.
"Don't mention it."
Kunzite turned to watch the huge feline as it mauled the hapless blonde. Miniya made attempts at fighting back, but her punches and kicks struck only air, making it an entirely one-sided battle. "I think he could use some help, don't you?" Kunzite smirked as the world turned black.
"Aw shit, not again!" Jadeite groaned.
Miniya echoed the sentiment, from underneath the invisible paw of the wind tiger. She shouted out various curse words at the tortoise bearing down upon her, but the giant black hole of a creature just blinked placidly at her. With one fluid movement, it jumped into the air, and sat on the blonde clone.
More obscenities were screamed from underneath the giant tortoise, but it just sat there serenely, oblivious to the fact that it was a) not physically a tortoise, in actuality, and b) was going to dissipate in a few seconds.
"That thing's got some odd fighting tactics, Kunzite," Zoisite said nervously, carefully avoiding a massive black fin.
"Death by tortoise. I think that's gotta be listed in the Darwin Awards somewhere." Jadeite blinked up at the enormous head, which was making a slow, gentle swivel around to watch the tiny creatures cowering below it. It grinned its tranquil, turtlish sort of grin, irridescent light refracting off of the wrinkled ebony skin with a spectral quality that seemed to encompass a thousand different colors at once.
With a quiescent wink, the creature dissipated as before, with the whispered rush of wispy shadows.
Miniya groaned plantively, writhing on her back. That damn tortoise packed a punch, which was altogether surprising, because of just that: it was a tortoise. Tigers, she could understand. But a really, really big turtle? It was mind-boggling.
"Are you quite finished," Mamoru asked mildly, "or do you intend to maim her any more?"
Kunzite looked at the blonde clone on the ground, who was so weak she couldn't even move from her embarassing position by which everyone in a ten foot radius could see under her, albeit very small, skirt.
"I'm done," Kunzite said, nodding firmly.
"Good." With very little fanfare, Mamoru held out a glowing hand towards the mangled blonde. "Tuxedo Mirage!" In a flurry of golden light and sparkles, Miniya was put out of her misery, leaving behind only a bed of crushed grass where the tortoise had squished her.
"Wow, three of them dead and you're still fully conscious." Kunzite smirked as the the light surrounding Mamoru vanished. "I think that's a new record."
"Do you want me to hurt you? Because I could really hurt you right now." The black haired Prince massaged his temple. All things considered, he would rather be asleep right now.
"Well, we were in the middle of quite the interesting situation of male bonding earlier." The uniform, the cape, all faded away, and with the tiniest puff of wind, Kunzite was just Malachi again. "And I don't think we quite finished."
"'Male bonding.' That's a nice euphamism." Jed sidestepped Zory as the feminine blonde attempted to slap him, but he didn't account for being unceremoniously tripped by Mamoru. He fell rear-first, knocking his head on the pavement just hard enough to cause a brief spike of pain.
The three standing Shitennou eyed the black-haired man with incredulity.
Mamoru looked at them and shrugged. "He was asking for it."
Neff laughed, giving Mamoru a pat on the back. "Our Prince is growing up."
"I didn't find it particularly amusing," Jed sulked on the ground. "It's bad enough dodging the three of you."
The look on the blonde's face was too amusing for words, and Mamoru could not help but join in the laughter. His smile faded, however, when he felt an odd sort of sensation, like a tingle on the back of his neck. It was not altogether unpleasant, but he was quickly learning to trust his senses, and any new feeling made him feel uneasy.
"...Mamochan...."
Mamoru's heart quickened. He felt it more than he heard it, a sort of whisper at the back of his mind.
"Mamochan...."
It couldn't be. It couldn't possibly be her. But that voice...
"Mamochan..."
The air around Malachi suddenly seemed to drop about twenty degrees in temperature. He could feel it; there was a presence with them, and it spelled trouble with a capital T. And R-O-U-B-L-E, for that matter.
He looked warily to his left; Zory's back was stick straight, eyes darting back and forth like a nervous bird. The blonde felt it, too. Something wrong.
Neff helped Jed to his feet. The brunette peered out from under an errant strand of hair. Cold. Very cold all of a sudden.
Jed felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The four of them just reeked of fear. They weren't quite sure what to be afraid of at that moment, but they knew the time to rejoice in the Prince's lack of unconsciousness had been fleeting. Back to business as usual.
"Mamochan, you dense idiot, turn the hell around already and look at me!"
Unable to do anything else, Mamoru dazedly obeyed. The area immediately behind him was empty, but he thought he heard movement just around the corner of the frathouse. A few wisps of golden hair trailed in the breeze. A single, gloved hand rested on the wall. As he watched, a winged creature like something out of a storybook emerged from behind the building, a goddess with golden hair and eyes like twin sapphires. Mamoru's heart jumped into his throat. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he had lost consciousness after all. But it seemed so much like her.
"Usako..."
The fact that she looked different from how he remembered did not matter to him. He did not notice that her wings were not pure white, but a dull, empty black. Nor did he care to see that her hair was not in its trademark odango, but hung loose around her shoulders, or that the colors of her uniform were all off. All that he saw was the girl he had missed so much, the fiance he had been longing to see. All that he saw was her.
"Prince, are you sure..." Malachi said warily. He knew that Sailor Moon had gone through quite a few upgrades since he had last seen her, and surely the black-haired man would know his own fiancé. But he could not shake the feeling that this woman was something to be feared.
Whatever the white-haired guardian had intended to say next would have been lost on deaf ears, had it even been said at all.
"Happy to see me, Mamochan?" The woman who had been addressed as Usako smiled, sweetly but with a twitch of something sinister at the ends of it. Mamoru didn't notice. All he saw was his beloved, and everything that seemed wrong about the moment was totally lost on his senses. In no less than five seconds, he had completely lost it.
"Come on, what are you waiting for?" She impatiently stomped her foot in the loosely packed dirt. "Hug me!"
The black-haired man didn't have to be told twice. He rushed forward, brushing rudely past Zory who nearly lost his own balance and only kept from falling over by collapsing onto Malachi.
"That's not her," the blonde whispered into Malachi's shoulder. "She doesn't feel right. She makes my skin itch like all those other clones."
"I know, Zory." Malachi watched the woman masquerading as Sailor Moon with narrowed green eyes. "I know. But do you want to get in the way of that?"
Zory couldn't see what "that" was, but if he was assuming a giant bear hug, he would have been correct. Mamoru had latched onto her with the force of an industrial vice grip.
"Slower than a brick, aren't you, Mamochan?" she said quietly, stroking his hair with gloved fingers. "Adorable, but slow."
"Usako..." Mamoru whispered into her hair, breathing in the exotic, fruity smell of her shampoo. Suddenly, all the terrible things he had ever done to her melted away, leaving only the beautiful woman in his arms. Nothing else in the world mattered to him at that moment. He had his Usako back.
"We can't let this go on," Neff muttered, shaking his head slowly. "I don't care if the Prince kills me for it later; she shouldn't be allowed anywhere near him."
"Try telling him that," Jed said darkly.
It would take a crowbar to make Mamoru loosen his grip on the blonde woman, who was only encouraging the situation. "Kiss me, Mamochan. Don't you want to kiss me?"
"Of course," he said dumbly. So overwhelmed was he by her presence that he was having difficulty even thinking to do something as simple as that.
So kiss her he did, and what a kiss it was. He was so full of elation--Malachi had been right, Usako had come back to him, for Hell or mad Senshi (which was perhaps redundant)--that nothing wrong about the situation could phase him. His blood was pounding furiously, exploding from his heart to his head and back again. His lips were on top of hers with such passion, the Shitennou finally had to look away for embarassment.
"I knew there was a horn dog under there somewhere," Jed muttered, staring furiously at his shoes.
Not to give the impression that the kiss was one-sided, she was kissing back just as forcefully. Eventually, they had to pause for air.
"Do you love me, Mamochan?" she breathed, small chest heaving from all the effort.
"Yes, oh yes, a thousand times yes." He'd had enough of this talking stuff, and before she could get any more words out, he'd tackled her for another kiss.
"This would be really cute if I didn't have the inexplicable urge to kill her," Neff growled, grinding the knuckles of one hand into the palm of the other to keep himself from ripping the two mad hot lovebirds apart.
The Usagi-lookalike had to physically take his head in both hands and pull it away from her in order to speak again. "You truly love me, Mamochan?" She asked sweetly, gazing up into his deep blue eyes.
"Of course I do. You know I do." Without so much as a pause, he pushed past her hands and back to her lips.
The Shitennou threw each other nervous glances. Every inch of their senses was screaming that this was all wrong and that they needed to put an end to it immediately. But for all that, only one thing held them all back. This was the happiest they had seen their Prince in days. The happiest they had ever seen him, really. No one wanted to be the one to shatter that happiness. No one wanted to be the one to break it to him that it was all a lie, that his Usako was lying in a hospital bed back in Tokyo, just as angry at him as ever.
Finally, even Mamoru had to concede that he was out of breath, and he settled for leaning heavily on the Usagi look-alike, face buried in the crook of her neck. His nerves were on fire; he was beside himself. Oh, Usako was here, and everything would turn out!
"Would you die for me, Mamochan?"
"In a heartbeat," he said softly, looking up into the woman's deep blue eyes. He held her face carefully in his hands, taking it all in.
"Do you promise?"
It didn't really matter what his answer to the question was, because he didn't even get to form one.
"Starlight Honeymoon Therapy Kiss!"
Four voices cried out as Mamoru was thrown backwards nearly ten feet before colliding with the brick wall of the frat house. When the dust and glitter settled, the black-haired man lay in a heap among the rubble, a cavernous dent carved into the wall behind him as though someone had tried to drive a pickup through it.
The clone smiled sweetly, clutching her bizarre rendition of the Moon Tier between her gloved hands. "I'll take that as a yes."
Her smile was forced to vanish immediately after, because at that moment it had a very close encounter with Malachi's fist.
The blonde stumbled back, but did not seem at all upset by this. Indeed, she grinned viciously up at the white-haired man, not seeming to notice the tiny trickle of blood from her lips. "Oh my, looks like I've gone and upset you."
"Damn straight you did," Malachi snarled, lashing out to punch her again. The blonde smiled and caught the punch before it came to her face.
"Getting slow, aren't you?" she chirped, before slamming her Tier into Malachi's gut with absolutely no remorse whatsoever.
While that fight went on, Jed and Neff immediately ran to the side of the frat house, trying to seperate their prince from the heap of brick and mortar that had fallen on him. They hoped to every god and goddess they knew of that he hadn't been crushed to death.
Finally, after removing the first layer of rubble, they found his hand sticking out. Moving ever faster, they pulled Mamoru the rest of the way. His breathing was shallow, ragged, but at least it was happening at all.
"C'mon, Prince," Jed said nervously, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "C'mon. Wake up, dammit."
He propped the black-haired man up against a more stable corner of the frat house, and shook him lightly in the hopes that he would come around.
Neff slid a hand behind Mamoru's head to hold it steady, and was horrified when his fingers came in contact with a sticky mass of blood and black hair. "Oh God, Prince, hold on."
As the Usagi-clone swung her Tier around to clobber Malachi, a hand took hold of a mass of blonde hair and gave a brutal yank, wrenching her head fiercely back. "Hurts, don't it love?" Zory gave another hard tug, unceremoniously throwing the girl to the ground.
Somewhere in a sea of pain, Mamoru could hear the ensuing fight. Someone was shouting curses, someone was throwing punches. But it hurt far too much to breathe, let alone open his eyes to see what was going on. He became aware that someone was calling his name, shaking him, but all the sounds had become an unintelligible mess.
The blonde launched herself at Zory, fingers extended and firmly intent on grabbing his hair. But the feminine boy was faster, and he ducked just in time, launching himself at her midsection. They both plowed to the ground, and Zory wasted not a moment to start furiously pounding at her face.
"You disgusting abomination!" he shouted, grabbing her hair and slamming her head on the ground. "How dare you trick him like that! How DARE you!"
"Whas' going on?" Mamoru said, so quiet he may as well have avoided straining his vocal cords. Everything hurt. His chest hurt, his head hurt, his back hurt, and his arms and legs were tingling. All in all, not a good situation.
"We're having a, er, problem." Jed turned his head to regard the fight behind him, and tried not to laugh at Zory's valiant attempt to be manly. Turning back to his prince, his smile dissolved. "Mamoru, can you open your eyes for me?"
The effort it required was momentous at least, but Mamoru finally did it, clouded blue eyes looking at Jed in confusion and panic.
"Who's fighting over there?" he slurred, having a very difficult time keeping up this work of open eyes.
"Where are you hurting, Prince?" Neff thought to abruptly change the subject; if Mamoru found out it was their compatriots and "Usako" fighting, he'd go batshit.
Considering how much effort it would take to list the many parts of his body that were screaming in pain, Mamoru summed it all up with a muttered "everywhere." Even that felt like the reciting of an epic, for all the strength it took to do it.
In the midst of severely beating the crap out of the fake Sailor Moon, Zory failed to see the Tier swinging up at him. It struck him hard in his side, knocking the wind from his lungs and forcing him to pause for a few fatal moments. The woman's other fist slammed straight into his stomach, and Zory doubled over painfully. She easily shoved him off of him, a triumphant smirk on her face.
As the clone began to rise, a knee slammed sharply down into her chest, pinning her to the ground. "You're not going anywhere," Malachi snarled.
It was no use. Keeping his eyes open took far too much effort. Mamoru's head dipped forward as his eyelids began to slide shut.
"No, Prince!" Jed shouted, giving Mamoru a sound shake. "You have to stay awake!"
"I'm so tired," the Prince slurred, barely able to keep himself conscious long enough to say it.
"Prince, does the word 'concussion' mean anything to your pre-med brain? Perhaps 'spinal injury?'" Neff snapped. "Don't, for the love of God, go to sleep!"
"Don' go spouting med'cal terminologicaly at me, Neff," Mamoru snapped, sounding more like he was drunk than concussed. "'M just fine, 'cept that I hurt and I need to sleep."
"Yeah, you're just fine," Neff retorted. "You sound like you just spent Margarita Monday with us, which I can assure you, is most definitely NOT fine come Tuesday morning."
The Tier swung for Malachi's head, but he grabbed it just as it was about to collide with his temple. The two struggled for control of the oversized wand, but while she may have been more powerful, he had an obvious physical advantage, and eventually managed to wrench it out of the clone's grasp. He triumphantly held it over his head, well out of her reach. "Let's see how much trouble you can cause without your little toy."
"You're gonna regret doing that," the blonde clone chided, a devious look in her eye. She arched her head back to increase her volume and let out a tremendous, screeching, "MAMOCHAN!"
"Usa!" Seeming to forget that he had been crushed by a building not ten minutes ago, Mamoru nearly leapt out of his skin. He tried to pull himself upright, but between his injuries and the two men holding him down, he was not altogether successful.
"Prince, calm down! Listen to me!" Neff tried to hold him still, but Mamoru, frail though his attempts were, was putting up a fight.
"Usa's in trouble!" Mamoru said frantically, struggling as his two friends kept him pinned to the ground. "What are you doing? I have to go help her! She's going to get hurt!"
"Oh, you're damn right she is," Malachi growled. The look in his eyes would have caused any mere mortal to piss their pants, but she didn't blink an eye. That is, until they briefly flashed grey.
Zory saw it before the blonde did. He ran up behind Malachi, putting a fragile hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Take it easy, Malachi. She isn't worth that. Don't let that Kunzite take over."
Malachi glared down at the woman a moment longer, steel-silver eyes locked on hers with the force of an industrial-strength vice. Eventually he took a long, shaky breath, and the grey irises softened into their familiar green. "You're right. She isn't worth it."
Zory sighed with relief. Of all the things that could happen, having Evil Bastard Kunzite appear in their midst was definitely not among his top five favorite events. The clone, for some bizarre reason, looked relieved herself. No one wanted the wrath of the other Kunzite on them, it seemed.
"Lemme go! She needs me!" Mamoru writhed beneath his friends' grips.
"Prince, listen to me!" Jed said sharply, trying to get his attention. "That's not your Usagi! She's just another clone!" His words fell on deaf ears. Suddenly there was no other thought in Mamoru's mind except that his Usako needed him, and that he had to get to her at all costs.
In his franticness, he managed to see past Neff's shoulder for a brief moment, just long enough to catch a glimpse of his beloved being pinned to the ground by his best friend.
"What's going on?!" he shouted, his voice near panic. "Why is he hurting her?"
"Because," Neff explained, as though he were trying to describe astrophysics to a five-year-old, "she hurt you first. Malachi doesn't like that. You know, we're kinda picky guardians like that."
"No, she didn't mean it! She was..." Mamoru didn't really know, exactly, what she'd been intending to do, but that was beside the point. "I don't want Malachi to hurt her!"
"Mamochan!" the blonde shouted, jumping up and down as Malachi teasingly held her Tier over her head just out of her grasp. "He's being mean to me! I need my Tier back, Mamochan!"
"Usa!" Mamoru once again attempted to sit up, but Jed and Neph both pushed him firmly back against the wall.
"Prince, please stop struggling," Jed pleaded. "You're going to hurt yourself."
Mamoru gritted his teeth. He'd had quite enough of being helpless while his Usa was in trouble. This time, he was going to save her. No matter what--or who--stood in his path, he would rescue his Usako.
The two fratboys exchanged hopeful glances as Mamoru began to take on a golden glow, rapidly healing his many wounds. If he was finally healing himself, he must have finally come to his senses.
At least, that is what they thought. Right up until the point that he blasted both of them five feet into the air.
Now, it should be noted that Zory was not one to throw curse words around lightly. Especially at his Prince.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" the little blonde shrieked, turning abruptly on his heels as his friends came thumping back down to the pavement face first, groaning feebly and unable to move.
"Give her wand back," Mamoru growled, getting to his feet in a hurry. He stalked over to Malachi, radiating fury.
"What, so she can blast you again?" Malachi snapped, apparently not impressed or particularly concerned about getting clobbered. "I don't think so, Prince. Come on, hit me if you want. But I'm going to protect you from this woman, because she is not your Usako and she's danger--"
The white-haired man didn't get to finish his thought. He was promptly blasted by a huge column of golden light, flying more than five feet into the air and landing on his back. There was a sharp crack as he came down; something was obviously broken.
Zory, being perhaps the least phsyically capable of the whole lot, was petrified. He knew he would be critically injured if he took that kind of blow. His physique was light, not meant for high velocity trips through the air and the subsequent landings.
"I said, give her wand back," Mamoru snarled again, glaring at both of them dangerously. He wavered on his feet, his clouded blue eyes obviously not seeing very clearly. Zory suspected that it had taken more than a concussion to confuse the dark-haired prince. There was something potent about that kiss.
Malachi lay wheezing on the pavement, making futile attempts to rise. His right arm hung limply at his side, unmoving. He gripped the Tier in his other hand, green eyes glaring up at Mamoru through a curtain of white hair. "I mean this with the utmost respect when I say 'fuck you, Prince.'"
"Told ya you'd regret it," the clone sang tauntingly down at Malachi, perfectly content to sit back and watch her Mamochan fight for her. "Mamochan, hurry up and get it for me!"
Zory briefly considered blocking Mamoru's path, pulling his hair, doing something desperate to stop him before he gave the instrument of his more than probable demise back to the clone. Fortunately, he was saved by a brunette blur tackling the Prince, in a way one might expect out of a football player.
"Zory, get that wand and get out of here," Neff snarled, desperately trying to keep his Prince pinned to the ground. Mamoru was, as could be expected, not particularly enthused about this. He bucked underneath Neff's weight, wrenching his arms out of the vice grip they were under. One hand lashed out and caught Neff by the throat, and in a flash their positions had reversed.
Mamoru held the brunette down with all his weight centered on his wrist, and Neff quickly turned an unhealthy shade of purple. His hands frantically pulled at Mamoru's, desperately trying to pull it off, but with no success. Finally, Mamoru seemed unamused by his friend's feeble attempts at self-preservation and punched him squarely in the face with his free hand. It was quite the punch, too, because Neff immediately blacked out and went limp.
Zory bit his lip as ever nerve and cell in his body screamed out to transform and go help his friend already.
"Zory, catch!" From his position on the ground, Malachi threw the Tier at Zory in the hopes that he could catch it. It landed smartly at the blonde's feet, and just as he bent down to get his hands on it, he was blasted from behind. His head was smashed down on the pavement as the golden beam of light tore through, dragging him quite a ways away and flipping him over at least six times. Finally, the light dissipated and Zory stopped moving. There was a loud moan from across the courtyard, a safe indication that at least he'd lived through the blast. But it didn't sound--or look, even from a far perspective--like he'd make it much past that.
"ZORY!" Malachi frantically tried to get to his feet, but he couldn't get his balance with only one arm, and managed only to collapse onto his face.
Mamoru started across the yard, charging straight towards the injured blonde. A hand clamped around his ankle, sending him hurling onto the ground. He turned his head lopsidedly around to growl ferally at Malachi, whose hand held his foot like a vice. "Let go!"
"You can kill me if you want, but I'd sooner die than let you give that filthy creature her weapon back," he growled from his position on the cement, sprawled out on his stomach with his damaged arm flung out in an unnatural position, completely useless to him.
The dark-haired prince kicked his feet wildly, straining with his arms to pull away from the iron grasp. Despite his position, Malachi went right on clinging to him, refusing to give an inch.
Zory groggily opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything, could barely hear much more. His body felt like one giant welt of pain with a nice heap of fear thrown in for good measure. There was one infinitely tiny ounce of hope in this whole situation--by some miracle, he still held the Tier between his bloodied fingers.
Mamoru managed to roll himself onto his back, flipping an injured Malachi with him. The white-haired man refuse to let go, grasping with all the strength he had. His Prince suddenly lashed out with the foot attached to the ankle he was holding, and Malachi got a face full of shoe. The hit was so abrupt, and surprisingly powerful, that Malachi was forced to let go of Mamoru's foot. He cursed himself for not holding on, but he couldn't do any more.
The black-haired man sprang to his feet, now unimpeded. Zory could hear his steps, faster and faster and more furious. //God, he's going to kill me. He's going to take the wand and then he's going to look down and just smother me.// He held onto the Tier as much as he could, hoping it would be a good way to go out. He was doing what was best: protecting his Prince, even when said Prince didn't understand it.
But when Mamoru arrived at Zory's broken body, he couldn't bring himself to take the Tier. From out of his concussion-induced haze came one startling clear fact: he had done this. Zory was small, practically defenseless when not transformed and had just a firebird going for him when he was.
The Prince's attack had practically decimated the blonde. He was looking up, sightless, blood vessels in his eyes burst from the pressure and the force of the blow. His clothing was ripped and burned and barely hanging on in places. His face had already begun to swell and bruise underneath a thin mask of blood, nose broken and at an unnatural angle. And he was holding onto the Tier with all the strength he had left.
Zory tried his best not to whimper. He couldn't see his Prince, but he was imagining a sort of contemptuous grin, the likes of which had not been seen since Endymion's seldom discussed employment in the Dark Kingdom. Shuddering, he pulled the Tier closer. The only thought playing in his head was to protect the Prince. Self-preservation was beyond him now.
"Zory..." Malachi wiped his face with his palm, unable to look. His fingers trailed along his cheek, coming in contact with something wet. Not blood, but tears. He was crying. That was new.
They'd been doing so well, and now...Now what? Zory was going to die. His Prince was going to be killed as soon as the clone got her Tier back. And then she would either leave the rest of them to suffer or just wipe them off the face of the planet. He was kind of hoping for the latter.
Jed moaned, rolling onto his side so he could face Malachi. He'd come back to consciousness, but he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He could feel broken ribs grate at the his organs, slowly ripping holes in them. He probably had a concussion, and about fifteen minutes of life left.
"This went to hell in a handbasket pretty fast, didn't it?" he coughed, a little blood coming up. Malachi made an unhappy noise of assent.
Mamoru took a step towards Zory, but hesitated. It would be so simple to just reach out and grab the stick from his hand. The blonde might put up a fight, but considering his condition, he would be about as successful as a half-drowned kitten. If he did struggle too much, it would not be difficult to merely break his hand and pull the Tier from the limp fingers. It was so simple, so why didn't he just do it?
A frail moan escaped Zory's lips. He had not expected his death to be this way. He had always been prepared to die for his Prince, of course. But he had hoped that when at last he would be reunited with him, he would get to be with him longer than a few days. It seemed so wrong, to finally find his Prince, only to be killed by him the very next day.
//Prince... I wanted so much to be with you again. All those years we spent together back in the Silver Millenium... they were so long ago, but I still see them as clearly as if they happened yesterday. That was the happiest time in my life, Prince. Do you remember that? Do you remember how happy we were? I always thought that... if only we could get you back again...//
Tears stung Zory's eyes, mixing with the blood on his face as they slid down into his matted copper hair. He couldn't help it. It wasn't just his life he was about to lose; it was that glimmer of happiness that he thought Mamoru could finally return to him. To all of them.
//I thought that maybe... we could have that happiness back.//
"Mamochan! What are you waiting for? Get the Tier and give it back to me!" The false Sailor Moon stood impatiently, hand on hip, watching the carnage with a sort of detached annoyance.
Mamoru bent over Zory, reaching for the oversized wand, the normally shimmering surface of which was smeared with blood and dirt. As his fingertips brushed the tarnished surface, a weak sob made him stop short. His eyes strayed from his goal to the face of his friend. A face which, even through the blood and swelling, was contorted into a horrible combination of fear, anguish, and sorrow. The blonde's breath was coming in short, shaky gasps that made his entire body tremble. Tears streaked through the blood on his cheeks like tiny salty streams.
"Zory..." Mamoru whispered beneath his breath. His mind was screaming at him to just grab the Tier already, but the sight of his smallest friend in this position made him unable to even move. Something was wrong. This was wrong. Zory's hurt. He's hurt, and he needs help.
The effeminate boy fearfully recoiled as Mamoru laid a gentle hand on his forehead. "Shh, it's okay Zory." He pulled the smaller man into his lap, cradling his blonde head in his arm.
"Mamochan, what are you doing?" The clone shouted angrily.
"Zory needs help," Mamoru muttered dimly, sounding as though he was barely awake.
"Mamochan, we don't have time for that! Just get me my wand!" the clone huffed, sounding almost pouty. "They were trying to hurt me, Mamochan!"
"Zory needs help," Mamoru reiterated, trying to focus on that one thing.
"Malachi, I can't see what's going on. Has he...did we get him back?" Jed looked at Malachi expectantly; while he was agonizing over the fact that beating Zory to the point of death was what did it, he clung desperately to the hope that Mamoru was waking up.
"He's coming around," Malachi said quietly. "I just hope it's not too late."
"Prince?" Part of Zory was still afraid Mamoru was going to take this opportunity to crush his head, but his moment of deluded rage had passed, and he was now focused on keeping his friend alive.
Mamoru wiped some of the blood out of his friend's face. "It'll be okay, Zory. I'm going to help you."
Zory seriously hoped that his Prince was telling the truth, considering that he was laying helplessly in his arms, completely blind and too weak to move. He could not begin to express his relief when he felt a golden sort of warmth surround him, soothing his aching body.
"Mamochan, stop it!" The clone stomped her foot irritably. "You're wasting my time!"
"Would you shut the hell up?" Jed groaned, eyeing the clone with distaste.
"I have to help Zory first, Usa," Mamoru said softly. "He's hurt." His brain was apparently glossing over the key bit of information that explained it was his fault that Zory was hurt, but it apparently didn't matter.
Slowly, as though someone turned on all the lights with a dimmer switch, Zory's eyesight returned. His blood vessels began to mend, broken bones knitting back together, nose reset back in its normal position. The glow dimmed a little, and except for the swelling, the bruises and the spilled blood, the last vestiges of his other injuries were gone.
"Prince, you can't give this to her," he said, looking up at Mamoru with still a little trepidation. He was okay now, and that probably meant he was going back to helping "Usako."
"But she needs it." Mamoru was totally perplexed. Why couldn't Usako have her Tier back?
"But she's going to hurt you."
"That's no concern of yours." The clone towered over them both, wings creating ugly shadows, blonde hair obscuring her face as she leaned over. "You're just going to sit her like a good boy while I get back my wand, or I'll blast you straight through the face. And that'd be sad, because you have a pretty face."
Mamoru looked up at her, almost frightened. "Usa, what--?"
The clone reached out a gloved hand to caress his face, the soft fingertips sending a small shiver down his spine. "Dear Mamochan, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. It'll all be over soon, Mamochan. I promise."
He relaxed beneath her touch, letting out a small, relieved sigh. Everything would be okay. It wasn't okay before, but it would be okay now. Usa was here. Zory was safe. She just needed the Tier, and then everything would be okay again. Usa wouldn't hate him anymore and he could explain everything to her and then everything would be good again.
Zory watched the exchange with no small amount of trepidation. As the realization dawned on him that his Prince was just as unstable as ever, his first instinct was to get up and bolt. Only problem was, he was currently lying in Mamoru's arms, and he could see no subtle way of getting out of said arms without throwing the black-haired man into another blind rage.
"Zory," Mamoru said, tearing his still clouded eyes off of his so-called beloved to look down at the blonde, "I need that Tier back."
Zory closed his eyes. "I can't give it to you, Prince. I really, really can't. She's going to hurt you."
//She's going to hurt me, too, but that's just unavoidable today. I want to minimize the casualties. The longer I hold on, the more likely it is that you'll come around. You'll see her for what she really is, Prince.//
"Malachi?" Jed tried to roll over; once had been enough for his body, and he immediately ceased trying.
"What?"
"Can you move?"
"Can you?"
"...Zory's gonna die after all, isn't he?"
"Excuse me, I can hear you!" the little blonde shouted. "I didn't need reminding, thank you."
Mamoru's brow furrowed. "You're not going to die, Zory. I healed you. And Usa just needs her Tier back."
"But I can't give it to her. And I can't give it to you, because you'll give it to her. So one of you is going to kill me to get it back."
Mamoru's brow furrowed. "You're not going to die, Zory. I healed you. And Usa just needs her Tier back."
"But I can't give it to her. And I can't give it to you, because you'll give it to her. So one of you is going to kill me to get it back."
The black-haired prince stared at him confusedly. "Kill you? Usa wouldn't hurt you, Zory. You're my friend. You know I wouldn't hurt you, right?"
"I'm not so sure about that, Prince," Zory said softly, pulling the Tier close to him, both hands squeezing the handle in a white-knuckled grip.
"What are you doing? I need that. I need to give it to Usa. I need to help her, Zory. Don't you understand that?"
Zory silently shook his head. Maybe being healed had not been such a good thing, after all. At least when he was still injured, death had just been a hop, skip, and a jump away. Now he was just healthy enough for his death to be very, very painful.
Neff groaned softly, apparently regaining consciousness.
"Neff?" Jed tried to turn his head to face the auburn-haired man, but failed. "Are you awake?"
The brunette blinked his reddish brown eyes up at the sky, reaching up a hand to clutch his swollen face. "Wha'd I miss?"
"Zory almost dying and now preparing to die again."
"Pardon?"
"The Prince kicked the shit out of him," Jed said, his back to Neff because he still couldn't work up the energy to move. "He managed to keep her wand away from them both, but now they're both towering over him and one of them's going to snap."
"Fuck." Neff hissed; his entire face throbbed when he touched it. Even the thought of sitting up made him ill. "What happened to Malachi?"
"I'm over here with a broken shoulder." The white-haired man sighed. "We've royally fucked this up, guys. I want to be optimistic, but she's got him. His concussion has dulled his senses, and we all know how badly he wants to protect the Princess. It doesn't matter that she looks and feels wrong. She's enough like 'Usako' to confuse him. And no matter how much he'd deny it, he'd protect her over the four of us any day."
Jed and Neff made similar noises, pain and agreement and defeat.
"I should have just taken her out when I had the chance."
//'She's not worth it.'//
"No, Malachi, you did the right thing. It hurts to say that, knowing what's going to happen to the Prince, but..." Neff paused, collecting his thoughts. "But I don't want that Kunzite back. Ever. I want you as a leader, not that sadistic, cold-eyed bastard who punched me in the face if I didn't say his name and rank loud enough."
"Hear, hear," Jed said quietly. "You didn't let him take over. For what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
Malachi snorted bitterly. "My friend is about to be killed by my Prince. My Prince is about to be killed by an evil clone who looks like his fiancé. And through all this, we're so completely fucked up that we can't so much as bat an eyelash to help either of them. I could have stopped this in time and I didn't. Nothing about this situation makes me proud."
"Yeah, you could've stopped it. And then what? Instead of him, we'd have you trying to gut us alive. Except you'd be twice as sadistic."
Malachi was silent, his green eyes gazing at the equally green grass that his head was resting upon. His good hand dug into the earth, clenching and unclenching around the dirt, ripping up blades of grass by their roots. "But at least you'd still have him," he muttered at last.
The other two were silent. This, at least, was true. Maybe, if the other Kunzite had killed Lunette and tried to kill the rest of them, maybe Mamoru could have escaped. Maybe he would have lived.
"It's not too late," he said suddenly. "I could still do it. He... he doesn't feel pain like we do. He wouldn't be so weak. He could still do it."
Jed turned his head to stare at the pavement. The option was still there. Malachi could bring him back. That Kunzite would kill the clone in seconds, wouldn't even flinch at any pain she or the Prince tried to inflict. But they had no way of knowing if they could pull Malachi back from that place. If they couldn't...If they couldn't, they'd have to kill him. He'd be a threat. And even if they did pull him back, he'd have all of the emotional baggage to deal with again, fresh and burning as if he'd just left the Dark Kingdom again. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. He'd either go insane or kill himself outright. There was no winning outcome for him.
"I don't like the idea of being the Santennou, Malachi," Neff said, something unidentifiable creeping into his voice. "I don't like it at all. I can't stop you from doing this, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to save Mamoru by any means necessary. But I'm selfish." He pounded a fist on the pavement. "I'm selfish and I don't want to lose you! Nephrite is screaming inside of me; he doesn't want to lose Kunzite. But if you do this..."
There was an awkward silence, as hot tears began to slip down Neff's cheeks.
"We're going to die, one way or the other." Jed broke in finally, unable to stand it. "Either it happens when we lose Mamoru, or it happens when we lose you. And I can't pick, Malachi. I don't want to and I can't. I need both of you. I won't have one or the other. I...won't let you do this to yourself."
With a cry of extreme pain and determination, he lunged to his feet, clutching his chest as he did so. Broken ribs or no, he was going out this way. On his feet, not whimpering in a fetal position.
"Neff, you fucking pussy, are you getting up or not?" he snapped, a strange, brilliant light in his eyes as he glared at the brunette by his feet.
Neff gaped up at him, completely dumbfounded. Suddenly a smirk broke out across his battered face, and with a force of will he did not know he had, the brunette shoved himself up off the ground. "Who are you calling a pussy, you bloody sissy?" He sneered, towering over the blonde.
The clone nervously glanced over her shoulder. She didn't have much time left. "Mamochan, hurry up! Grab the Tier and hand it to me."
"But... Zory won't give it to me." Mamoru answered, shaking his head disconcertedly at the blonde in his lap.
"Oh fer... give it here!" The blonde woman reached out to snatch the Tier from Zory's hands, but pull as she might, the effeminate boy remained firmly attached to the weapon. "Mamochan, make him let go!"
Malachi stared at both of them, a strange look in his eye. "Guys... you..." The words faltered on his lips, hanging unsaid between them.
Jed wiped a trickle of blood from his face, looking down at his white-haired friend. "We're going to die either way, Malachi. Me, I'd rather go down swinging. And I'd rather be doing it with someone next to me."
Neff tilted his head good-naturedly, as though he were chatting in the back of a pub, rather than in the midst of what would likely be their last battle. "C'mon, buddy. Hardest part's the first step."
He bent over, hissing in pain all the way, to offer Malachi a hand up. The white-haired man looked up at him, and then over to Jed. He inhaled deeply and took Neff's hand.
"Give it to me, you little snot!" the clone snarled, trying to wrench her Tier out of his grip.
"I'm going to hold on until one of you kills me," Zory explained, tone neutral. His grip didn't waver, even for a millisecond. "You'll have to blow my brains out before I'll let go."
The clone laughed. It was not a nice laugh. "That can be arranged."
"But you have to get your Tier back first." Zory looked at Mamoru, everything about his face set in stone except his eyes. The look in his eyes was almost heartbreaking. //Please, Prince, can't you feel what's wrong? Would your Usako ever say things like that?//
"Mamochan! Are you going to help me or not?"
"Usa, maybe you should just let Zory have it. I don't think he wants to let go."
The clone rounded on him, a vehement look in her eye. "Mamochan," she said lowly, dangerously, "if you do not get that Tier for me, I will no longer love you. I will leave you, Mamochan, do you hear me? I will leave you and you will never see me again and you will be sad and lonely for the rest of your miserable life."
Malachi painfully pulled himself to his feet, leaning on Neff's arm much more than he had intended. His right arm was like a dead weight, hanging heavily at his side, but serving absolutely no purpose. He staggered slightly, but somehow managed to remain upright.
"Quite a trio we make, huh?" Jed said with the faintest of laughs. "Maybe we can smother her to death by collapsing on top of her."
Malachi gave him a small, weary smile. "My, what a valiant end that would make."
Zory regarded Mamoru calmly. "You know that isn't true, Prince. Even if she leaves you, we never will. We will never, ever let you be lonely."
"He's lying, Mamochan," the clone snapped. "You can't trust him as far as you could throw him, although you did throw him very far. I'm the only one you can trust, Mamochan. Do you understand?"
Mamoru's eyes darted back and forth, desperately trying to make sense of the whole mess. Usako wouldn't lie, would she? But neither would Zory. Oh, it was far too difficult for his concussion-numbed brain to handle!
"Mamochan? Do you understand or not?" The clone prompted.
"I... I don't know..."
"Well, if you can't be man enough to make a decision, I'll just have to take matters into my own hands." The blonde swung her leg high, and with one sharp kick, cracked the boy across the face with a red high-heeled boot. The Eternal Tier clattered to the ground as his hands went limp, landing next to the woman's feet. "There! That was easy."
Mamoru stared up at her, suddenly feeling afraid but not quite understanding why. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that Zory was laying unconscious in his arms. "Usa...? Why did you do that?"
"Dear Mamochan," she said sweetly, seeming to recover her "innocent girlfriend" act, "that doesn't matter now. What matters is that I have my Tier back. Come here, Mamochan. I want to give you something."
"Zory!" Malachi couldn't see what had happened to the little blonde, but he was predicting that he wasn't going to like it. Before he could even run forward, maybe give the clone a very nice meeting with his fist, Jed grabbed his good arm.
"No, not yet," he hissed. "She's got her wand back. We've gotta--"
"We've gotta what? Wait for her to blow him through another wall?" Neff snarled. Apparently it was too much for his lungs, because his tirade was interrupted by deep, phlegm- and blood-filled coughs.
After a moment and two very pointed looks of concern, he meekly added, "Okay, so maybe we wait."
Mamoru put Zory down on the grass as he stood up, the smaller man flopping like a rag doll. He probably should have been much more concerned about what had just happened, but he wasn't, and the incident was seemingly forgotten. Usa was here, Usa still loved him, Usa wanted to give him something...
"What is it, Usa?" he said, looking almost drunk as he got unsteadily to his feet.
Her hand brushed the side of his face, the silken glove slithering across his skin as it slid around the back of his neck, drawing his head down next to hers. He tilted his mouth towards hers, expecting another kiss, but instead she rested her cheek against his, pulling his ear towards her tantalizing lips. "I have a secret for you, Mamochan," she breathed against his earlobe, making the man melt against her shoulder. "Would you like to hear it?"
Neither seemed to notice that Zory still lay at their feet, little more than a blonde lump between them. If they had tried to stand any closer, one of them would likely have tripped over him.
"Yes, Usa. Tell me."
Suddenly an incredible pain exploded in Mamoru's abdomen, worse than anything he had ever felt before. His eyes widened in shock and agony, his mouth open in a scream of torment that refused to manifest itself.
"Mamoru-kun, you never returned my call. That wasn't very nice of you." Lunette grinned, rows of sharp shark teeth bared at her prey. With a vicious yank, she pulled her blood soaked Tier back out of Mamoru's abdomen. "Of course, it doesn't make much difference now."
"PRINCE!" Malachi wrenched his good arm away from Jed and broke into a run across the courtyard.
Neff screamed out of frustration. "'No, not yet' he says! We could have stopped that!"
"Fuck off, Neff. Just fuck off!" Jed tore off after Malachi, every step a grand effort. He had to pause twice just to catch his breath, and by the time Neff had caught up to him, Malachi was on top of the clone again. Mamoru had slumped over, wound the size of a softball all the way through his stomach. He was too weak to try and stop the bleeding.
"Prince, hold on!" Jed sucked in a deep breath and bent over, moving Mamoru off of a still-unconscious Zory and to his side instead. He took his T-shirt off, revealing a disgusting rainbow of bruises and patches of broken skin. Undaunted, he pressed the shirt on Mamoru's abdomen to slow the bleeding down long enough for him to start healing.
Lunette easily dodged Malachi's aimed blows, laughing maliciously. "You won't do much in your condition, dear. Maybe another day." Growling furiously, he took a swing for her head, but the clone abruptly vanished just as his fist was about to connect, leaving a trail of haunting laughter.
"Zory, can you hear me? You need to wake up, buddy." The blonde groaned as Neff pulled him into a sitting position, pushing curly strands of hair out of his face.
"Wha' happened? Where'd the Prince go?" Zory glanced dazedly around, attempting to get his bearings.
"He's hurt, Zory. I need you to wake up so you can help us."
"What?" Turning his head, he saw for the first time the pale figure who lay bleeding next to him. Realization kicked in as the blood drained from Zory's face. "I... oh, God, Neff... the Tier. I... I couldn't hang onto it."
Malachi rushed past both of them and awkwardly knelt next to Mamoru, appearing calm and in control in every way except for the panicked look in his eyes.
"He's not healing, Malachi," Jed said shakily. "Why isn't healing himself?"
Malachi silently shook his head. He rolled the dark-haired Prince onto his back, gripping his bloodied hand with his good one. "Prince! Open your eyes, Prince. Look at me."
Mamoru's eyes flickered open, staring dully up at the white-haired man. His skin had gone as pale as a sheet, only serving to emphasize the deep crimson blood that was steadily pumping out of his body. "I... I..."
"Don't speak, Prince," Malachi ordered softly, squeezing his hand. Though both their hands were slick with sweat and blood, they gripped one another so tightly that their knuckles turned white. "Listen to me. You need to heal yourself, understand? You need to stop the bleeding."
Mamoru vaguely shook his head. He was shaking all over, and even his lips were starting to look slightly blue.
Frustrated, panicky and rightfully so, Malachi carefully touched what remained of Mamoru's abdominal cavity. He picked up a stain of blood on his hand, and then held it out. "Mamoru, this is what's happening to everything in the vicinity of your waist. If you don't stop it, you're going to die."
From his back, Mamoru looked around at the mess. Neff had finally found the task of standing too great, and had by this time knelt by his Prince's side. Every now and then he coughed, discreetly wiping away whatever blood and mucus appeared on his lips. Well, he thought it was discreet, but no one was missing it. He was still bodily holding Zory up, and while the boy had seemingly recovered from the earlier incident, his face was still a mess and was now swelling on the other side where he'd met Lunette's foot.
Jed nervously chewed on his lip, holding down his shirt on the wound with as much pressure as he dared give without putting his hands into Mamoru's intestines. His breathing was labored, no doubt from half a dozen broken ribs that had begun to rub against his lungs. The smattering of wounds and bruises on his chest only seemed to be getting worse as time went on. It didn't help that his expression was a very strange mixture of panic and "my dog just died."
"Your arm..." Mamoru finally managed to wheeze, looking up at Malachi with no small amount of guilt. He never did guilt in small amounts. "What happened to your arm?"
Malachi squeezed his hand reassuringly, though he was not sure which of them needed the reassuring. "It doesn't matter, Prince. What matters is that we all come away from this alive, and that's not gonna happen if you don't hurry up and take care of yourself."
Mamoru was not listening. He again cast a confused glance around at his friends, his brain trying to make sense of their horrible injuries. They looked like extras from some World War II drama, except all those gashes, bruises, abrasions, and broken bones were not the result of stage makeup. They should have been in the ER, not sitting here worrying about him. But the worst part of all WAS that they were worried about him. Even through their bruised, swollen faces, the eyes that gazed out at Mamoru were filled with nothing but concern for him. Couldn't they see how hurt they were? They were so worried about him that they were putting their own injuries aside to help him. Even though... Even though...
"I did this, didn't I?" he asked faintly, not noticing the hot tears that were rolling down his cheeks.
All four of them exchanged a quick glance. There would be time for discussing all of that later; greater matters were at hand now.
"Prince, don't worry about who did what. Worry about the fact that you're bleeding out and, forgive my lack of medical prowess, that you'll die in approximately ten minutes if you don't stop it." Malachi tried to get a rein on the extreme concern he knew his face was displaying, and on the tears that were burning away at the inside of his eyes. "Even if you do stop it, we may still need to take you to the hospital. Thank God we're at Stanford."
"I'll drive," Neff attempted to say, but was seized by another coughing fit. Zory gently patted his back until the coughing subsided, looking a very interesting shade of ill at the mess that had appeared on his friend's face.
Neff cleared his throat. "Um, anyone got a hanky?"
"Take mine," Zory muttered, trying his best not to look at Neff's face or, for that matter, Mamoru's stomach. He was not altogether fond of bodily fluids, especially when they were outside the body.
Malachi's words seemed to be completely lost on Mamoru. While he could see clearly enough what was wrong with his friends, his mind was having trouble comprehending the horrible condition he was in. Only one thing was on his mind: this was all his fault.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered up at them, a tiny trail of blood falling from the corner of his mouth.
Malachi could no longer stand it. He was through with trying to remain calm.
"Prince, listen to me!" he growled furiously, leaning forward and lifting Mamoru's head with his hand so that his green eyes pierced directly into his Prince's blue ones. "You are dying, do you hear me? I don't care what you've done, I want you alive! I won't forgive you if you die, Prince!"
"But I did this," Mamoru practically whimpered. "I hurt you because I was too blind to..."
His eyes started to slide closed, sentence trailing off. He was losing blood a mile a minute; he wouldn't stay conscious much longer.
"PRINCE!" Malachi's grip on his friend's head tightened violently, shaking him awake. "I don't care if you ripped my arm of and ate it! Heal yourself before I have to do it FOR you!"
Jed's face scrunched in confusion. "We can do that?"
"I sure hope so," Neff muttered, looking down at the borrowed hanky with no small amount of disgust. It had turned a very unusual shade of brown where mucus and blood had mixed together. He'd be getting Zory a new one, for sure.
"I think so," Zory said slowly, "but healing powers don't come naturally to us. Considering our current conditions, it would probably take every ounce of strength we have."
"So, what, we'd die?" Jed asked rather casually, considering the circumstances.
"I think so, yeah."
"Well, if it's only a matter of him or us, what are we waiting for?" Neff cocked an eyebrow.
"No!" Mamoru bellowed, making all four of them jump. "No... you can't..."
"If you want to stop us, Prince, then you'd better hurry up and do it yourself, because we aren't waiting." Malachi held his head firmly, his face so close to Mamoru's that all either of them could see was the other's eyes.
"I can't..." he muttered, his eyelids sliding down again.
"You can, Prince! We're going to help you, alright? We'll give you the energy you need. But you have to do the healing part yourself, understand?"
"Prince, either you step up and get the Golden Crystal working or you will have four very heavy--" Neff eyed Zory. "--three very heavy and one insubstantial corpse to clean up later."
Zory bristled, managing to look indignant even under the bruises. "Hey, I resent that."
"Please?"
The question was so soft, no one even noticed it but Mamoru. In such a close proximity to Malachi, he could hear the tiny cought of a whisper, and could very clearly see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Desperation, fear, hope were all bursting out with just one look; he wasn't going this far to lose his Prince now!
Mamoru could not possibly say no to those eyes; even if Malachi had been asking him to magically turn his hair purple, he would have said yes. To see so many emotions pouring out of his friend's normally indifferent eyes like this was positively heartbreaking.
The dark-haired Prince nodded shortly--a nod that only Malachi could see.
Slowly, a faint glow began to form around Mamoru's body. Compared to the shining brilliance that usually accompanied the Golden Crystal, the light that surrounded him appeared rather dull. Malachi gently laid his Prince's head back on the ground and took his hand again, immediately causing the glow to brighten.
Jed abandoned the sopping bloody mess that was now his T-shirt, and held Mamoru's other hand. The glow intensified; a minimal amount, it looked like, but it was making all the difference. Neff leaned over to Malachi, looking quite pained at the effort, but managed to take his friend's hand anyway. Again, the glow increased.
Inching over on the grass, Zory took Neff's slightly sticky hand in his own, trying to ignore the fact that he was very uneasy about what exactly was making it sticky. The link complete, the golden glow washed over all of them at almost full intensity. The gaping wound in Mamoru's abdomen slowly began to close itself, organs rebuilding holes, skin knitting back together. It was a slow process--they were all exhausted beyond what they'd ever thought possible, including the day before Jed's Intro to Latin Literature final--but eventually, the only thing that remained was a bloody hole in Mamoru's shirt.
Finally assured that their Prince wasn't going to die--yet--the four men let out a sigh of relief in unison. Letting go of the respective hands each was holding, they all felt the sudden urge to fall over and go to sleep.
"We need to get inside," Neff observed, although he didn't look like he much felt like going anywhere.
Malachi watched his Prince's face, concern continuing to linger in his eyes. Even with the assistance of his guardians, healing himself had taken every ounce of strength that Mamoru had left in reserve, and no sooner had the golden light faded then the black-haired Prince had slipped from consciousness, the hand that clung to Malachi's falling limp between his fingers. His hand felt cold, even under the midday sun, and was as sickly a shade of pale as the rest of him.
"Neff, I know you're exhausted, but do you think you can carry him?"
"Oh, sure. I already feel like I've been run over by a tractor, why not throw another 170 pounds on my back?"
Malachi sighed, pushing his silver hair out of his face in an infinitely weary manner. "Look, I wouldn't ask you if I had two functional arms, but at the moment I can't really do much."
"Relax, Malachi," the brunette grunted as he pushed himself up off the lawn. "I never said I wouldn't do it."
"I'll help." Jed eyed his shirt with much trepidation; he didn't want to bring it in and have to put it in the wash, but he didn't want to throw it in the garbage and risk having to explain it. For the moment, he set it down at his feet and carefully began to shoulder the unconscious Mamoru. "Zory, can you move under your own power, or do you need help?"
Zory experimentally got to his feet; he wobbled a little, but seemed to be stable after a moment. "I'm fine. If I need help, I'll stop; no sense in having yet another person passing out."
"How's your chest?" Malachi asked quietly, as Neff slipped his neck under Mamoru's free arm to give him support.
"Well, I got some lovely biofeedback from all that healing. Good news, I'm not going to cough all the blood out of my body. Bad news, I still feel like shit." He craned his head backwards to look at Jed. "On the count of three, let's move before I fall over. One, two, three."
With matching groans of part pain and part manly strength, the two men walked shakily towards the back door of the frat house. The white-haired man let out a breath when they finally managed to get inside.
"Malachi, we need to get you to the hospital. Your arm is still in rotten shape." Zory eyed the useless limb critically. It wasn't going to fall out of the socket at a moment's notice, but it was still broken, and Mamoru would be in no shape to heal it for a very long time. By then, the damage would be done.
The white-haired man slowly began to shift his feet beneath him in order to try and stand. He was forced to pause part way; his earlier injuries were making him dizzy, and it was difficult maintaining his balance with his one hand gripping the ground. "I'm not going anywhere. At least, not until he's doing better."
"Malachi, you can't just be walking around with a broken shoulder. We don't even know how bad it is. Heck, what if they need to operate--"
"Which is exactly why I'm not going to the hospital. Between all the waiting, the x-rays, whatever treatment I need, I could be there all night, Zory. Heck, if it's bad enough, I might be stuck in there for days. By that time, that freaking Lunette thing would have already attacked, and I'd be too morphined up to even haul myself out of bed, let alone do anything to help." His tone became rather distracted as he experimentally shifted his weight, trying to figure out how to pull himself upright without ending up flat on his face.
The blonde stood watching his green-eyed friend, arms crossed in a rather irate manner. "And how much help do you think you'll be like this? For God's sake, you can't even stand up!"
"Zory, I--"
"You're not arguing with me, Malachi." The blonde's tone echoed that exact sentiment. He was dead serious--well, thankfully not dead, but serious all the same. "You are going to the hospital, and you are going to have your arm checked, and I will do whatever it takes to get you there even if it requires hitting you over the head with a frying pan to get you in the car."
Malachi finally decided he'd gotten his balance. With a grunt and a swift push, he was on his feet--
--and immediately flat on his face in the grass.
Zory squashed the urge to laugh in a nanosecond. "Idiot. Just let me help you up, okay?"
Considering his situation, the white-haired man could do little more than swallow his pride and allow the blonde to help him to his feet. He tried not to lean on the smaller man too much, but at the moment his knees felt so wobbly that he could not help but depend on him as Zory guided him towards the frat house parking lot.
By some miracle, Malachi had been the last to use the vehicle that the four fratboys shared, when he had made a quick run for party supplies--namely beer--a few nights ago. If either Neff or Jed had the keys, they would have to drag themselves all the way back to the frat house, and Malachi was not sure whether he could make the journey. He slumped heavily against the side of the 1985 Park Place Oldsmobile--a dark blue monster of a car that was only protected from rusting to death by the thick layer of bumper stickers that had been plastered across its surface--while Zory unceremoniously dug into his jeans pocket in search of keys.
"You know, I could have gotten those for you," Malachi said dryly, as Zory triumphantly pulled the well-loved keychain out of his back pocket.
"Yeah, but then I wouldn't have had an excuse to fondle you. Do you need help getting in?" Zory opened the driver's side door and started throwing out empty beer cans that had collected there. He found it very difficult to drive when empty Miller Lites rolled under the brake petal.
Malachi choked. "You wouldn't have had an excuse to WHAT?"
Zory held up a still-full six pack, and tossed it into the back seat. He ignored the question fully. "Do you need help getting in, or don't you?"
"I still want to know about this fondling thing."
"After we get your arm set. I'm counting to three, and then I am going to pick you up and put you in the car myself."
Malachi burst out laughing, gripping at the roof of the car in an attempt to keep upright. "You couldn't even pick me up halfway without collapsing!"
Zory got out of the car and stared the white-haired man down viciously. "Want to test me?"
"As tempting as that sounds, I think you've been crushed enough times today without adding myself to the problem. No sense in both of us having to visit the ER tonight."
The blonde gave him a small grin, then returned to clearing off the floor, grabbing handfuls of empty Burger King wrappers and tossing them in the back seat.
Malachi looked down at the car door next to him, realizing that there was really no way he could remain standing while trying to open it with his left hand. He tried a few unsuccessful maneuvers to keep himself leaning on the car while freeing up his left hand to open the door, but to no avail. Finally, he was forced to sigh, defeated. "Zory..."
"What?" Zory's head popped up, his arms laden with beer bottles and Big Mac containers.
"Will you open the door for me, please?"
The blonde leaned across the front seat and pushed the door open. He smirked up at his white-haired friend. "What was that about needing help?"
"...You know, I could think of a lot of things to say to that, but taking your new fetish for touching me into account, I think I'll opt out of all of them and just settle for a 'thank you.'" Malachi winced as he sat down; his arm may have been useless, but his shoulderblade did not like having pressure on it from the back or, well, any angle really. He buckled his seat belt and tried to lean forward in such a way that he wouldn't shout obscenities every time Zory hit a pothole.
"As well it should be." The driver's side finally clean (although the backseat was a mess), Zory climbed inside and shut the door. When he put his seatbelt on, the CHECK ENGINE light came on. When he put the key in the ignition, his seat tilted backwards.
"I love this car," he muttered, trying to get the senile vehicle to start and fix his seat at the same time.
//I hope I even make it to the hospital,// Malachi thought, bemused, as the car finally lurched to life and went rolling at approximately two miles an hour out of the parking lot. It barely missed colliding with a campus security cart before pulling out on the main road.
Malachi tried his best to lean away from anything that would cause him further pain--namely everything--but even the tiniest bump in the road jostled him either against the seat behind or the seatbelt before. Zory was at least trying to drive smoothly, he could tell, although one could only manage so well when surrounded by crazy California drivers. Even so, he was inwardly relieved to have Zory--the careful one--in the driver's seat, rather than the two speed demons whose sole purpose in life was apparently to put the poor Oldsmobile into retirement. Speaking of that... "Shouldn't we tell Neff and Jed where we're going? You know, so they don't get all worried and think we died on the way into the frat house?"
The car came to a stop at a red light, giving Malachi a moment's relief from the jarring movement. "I'll call them from the hospital while you're having your arm checked out."
"When you do, could you ask them to stay with the Prince? I don't think he should be left alone right now."
Zory nodded, his green eyes watching the red light plaintively. "They'll take care of him. He'll be alright, Malachi."
The white-haired man sighed as the light turned green, preparing for the rest of the painful journey. //I certainly hope so.//
---
Well, it looks like our notes have offended some of you.
We're sorry to anyone who took our comments as a personal attack, but when you're on the receiving end of email and review after email and review of, "Oh, it's a good story, but when will the Senshi show up?" you will cease being amused by it. Did we ever imply that you are all "dumb, deaf freaks?" We certainly hope not, because that would be incredibly stupid on our parts to insult the people who seem to be enjoying this fic.
Did we react bluntly to this subject? Yes, we did. Do we think it amounts to being condescending or callow? It's in the eye of the beholder, we suppose, and if you took it that way, then there's nothing we can really do to change it. We stand by our comments, however harsh you may have taken them to be. And if you decide not to read this fic anymore, it's not a worry of ours. No one is forcing you to read it. We will continue to write even if only one person isn't totally disgusted with us.
If you still feel the need to tell us how rude and immature we are, please, go ahead and do so. But please, don't be rude and immature when you do it. That doesn't get anyone anywhere. We will no longer be putting as many author notes in, seeing as how they apparently do more harm than good. However, we still stand by what we have said, and if you still have a problem with our past notes or where this fic is going, you are welcome to take it up with us.
For the rest of you who don't think we're rude, awful scum of the Earth, keep reading! You may yet change your minds!
~Spirit-hime and AngelAnne
