Chapter 1: Homecoming

Sailor Sol tried to ignore the burning pain in her side as she surveyed the area around her. A few battered streetlights and the moon bathed the streets with shifting shadows. A foghorn sounded in the distance, and Sol both blessed and cursed the gray mist that rolled in from the harbor.

A low growl snapped Sol back to her present situation. She desperately needed to put some distance between herself and the cat creature. Glancing around, she found a decaying balcony jutting from the second story of a nearby building.

She took a running start and jumped, grabbing the edge of the balcony with both hands. However, the glove of her left hand slid off the masonry, leaving a bright red stain behind. Biting her lip to muffle a curse, she wiped her hand on her skirt and reached again for the balcony's edge. Satisfied with her grip, she pulled herself up.

Sol backed against the wall and formed her Sun Staff. Then she seemed to blend into the shadows. She waited and soon the creature she had been battling came into the open street.

The creature was grotesque, its mangled form composed of both feline and human characteristics. This was the second monster Sol had encountered this week. The other, a bird person, she had encountered just two days earlier. These creatures seemed to be searching for something, following some kind of plan. However, Sol was at a lost to its motives.

She had to protect the city and the innocent people who had no idea what happened in the shadows of the night. It was a duty she performed alone, which made her battles harder. There was no back-up for her, no friends to run to her rescue. Sol was on her own.

The cat thing was sniffing, picking up the scent of Sol and her blood. The Sailor Soldier looked down at her stained hands. She had to finish this battle while she still had the strength. Gripping the Sun Staff tightly, she jumped to the balcony's edge.

The Sun Staff whirled above her head, the air currents shaking her hair and her skirt. "Up here, kitty-kitty," Sol taunted.

The creature looked up at the balcony, its yellow eyes gleaming as it spotted its prey. It licked its lips, a guttural purr escaping for its throat. It squatted and prepared to pounce.

"I don't think so," Sol stated. The staff suddenly went still in her hand. "Sol Corona Flare!"

The creature howled in pain as the arc of red-orange energy passed through its body. Sol watched the ashes blow in the wind with grim satisfaction. Yet, a sudden wave of nausea assailed her, bringing her thoughts back to her injuries.

She faced a difficult decision. She couldn't last much longer in her condition, already weakened by the blood she had lost so far. However, she didn't know how long she would stay conscious in her normal form and couldn't go to the hospital in her Senshi form.

That left one choice, an option that Sol dreaded. 'Please be up, Jonathan,' she prayed. 'That first aid training is about to pay off.'

* * * * *

Jonathan sighed and punched his pillow mercilessly. He had been trying to go back to sleep for nearly an hour, but a nagging feeling that something was wrong prevented him. 'What have I forgotten?' he wondered, staring up at the ceiling.

He glanced around the room, suddenly listening intently. A light tapping echoed through the otherwise silent apartment. Throwing the covers back, he walked into the living room, the direction of the noise.

A figure leaned against the outdoor surface of the French doors that lead to his modest balcony. Realizing who it was, Jonathan ran across the room and unlocked the doors. Stepping into the night air, he caught Sailor Sol as she slid weakly to the ground.

"Celeste! Celeste, come on! Open your eyes!"

Sol moaned and laboriously opened her eyes. It was a few moments before her eyes focused on his face.

"Jonathan," she whispered hoarsely. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't go to the hospital like this."

He brushed some of her hair from her face with one hand, the other still cradling her to him. "Celeste, what happened?"

However, her form went limp and his free hand caught her head. She glowed, her red-orange aura enveloping her completely. As the light receded, Celeste in her normal form was in his arms.

He immediately noticed the blood that covered his t-shirt and now staining Celeste's blouse. Sweeping her up, Jonathan carried her into the apartment and placed her on the couch. Turning on the light, he immediately returned to the couch.

He lifted up the hem of her shirt, grimacing at the gash in her side. He moved to the bathroom and returned to the living room with the necessary supplies. Setting them on the coffee table, he debated on what to do first.

Jonathan decided that the gash required the most attention. Silently asking for her forgiveness, he took off her blouse. Grabbing the antiseptic, he applied some to a clean cloth and began to clean the wound.

Celeste moaned in pain, arching her back. Jonathan did his best to hold her still and continue to wash the cut. Drying the area carefully, he applied the appropriate bandaging. Satisfied, he moved on the other less serious cuts and scrapes.

"What did you fight, Celeste?" he asked her unconscious form. All of her injuries had been treated to the best of his abilities. He now realized that he couldn't leave her shirtless on his couch.

He carried her into his bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. Jonathan went into his closet and found a soft, fairly warm shirt. He returned to the other room and gently put it on her sleeping form. Kissing her forehead, he pulled the blankets over Celeste.

He left the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. He placed their dirty shirts in the washing machine and cleared the first aid stuff from the coffee table. With grim determination, he cleaned the bloodstains from the couch.

Satisfied with his efforts, Jonathan went back into the bedroom. Celeste was still sleep, but some color had returned to her face. He gently laid his hand against her forehead, grateful for the absence of a fever. Still, he would have to take her to the hospital, although he knew how much she hated them.

He pulled the blankets higher. He took an extra pillow and blanket from a closet. With a final glance over his shoulder, he went into the living room and stretched out in the recliner.

* * * * *

"If you will release Jonathan, I will go with you willingly, Scorpios."

"Celeste, you can't!" Jonathan cried. However, Gypsum's slap prevented the rest of his plea.

"I don't think you understand, Celeste-chan," Scorpios said, running a finger along the edge of her cheekbone. "You have a choice: Serenity or Jonathan. Although, Jonathan's just really what's left of Charon."

Scorpios turned and draped his arm around Jonathan's shoulders. "So, Sailor Sol, what is your choice?"

Sol closed her eyes to hide the forming tears. Cursing herself, she stepped back, becoming closer to Sailor Moon.

"You have made your decision, Sol. I hope you can live with it."

She watched helplessly as they lead Jonathan away. She watched Gypsum and Galena shove him through the portal. She stared, tears pouring down her face, as the portal closed.

Sol tried to leave. However, Pluto soon blocked her path.

"Get out of my way," Sol ordered.

"I can't let you do this, Tennyo-chan," Pluto said softly.

Sol tried to move forward but Pluto countered every moment. "Damn it, Setsuna, let me go!"

However, Pluto grabbed her shoulders. "Celeste, please, wait and let us help. Let me help."

"Setsuna, get the hell out of my way! Please let me go! Let me go! Now!"

* * * * *

Jonathan heard Celeste crying in her sleep and jumped out of the chair. He rushed into the bedroom and sat down on the bed beside her. She was sitting up, sobbing into her hands. Wordlessly, he hugged her.

She stiffened and looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Oh, Jonathan, I'm so sorry." She placed her forehead against his chest and cried.

"Celeste, what's wrong? What are you sorry about?" He stroked her hair. "Celeste?"

She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. "That night in Tokyo . . . When Scorpios made me chose . . ."

She took a steadying breath. "I wanted to choose you. If Usagi wasn't so important to the future, I would have chosen you. I'm sorry for any harm that came to you because of my decision. Jonathan, I . . ."

"Shhh," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault, Celeste. I never blamed you."

"You should have," she replied bitterly, pulling away. "I have been nothing but trouble to you since you met me, Jonathan."

"Ten-chan," he whispered.

She choked on a sob, turning her face away from that understanding look in his eyes. "Please, don't call me that! I am not Shinsei Tennyo, not completely. And you are not Charon. I won't let you have feelings for me because of who we used to be."

He sighed. "Celeste, I've had feelings for you before you even left for Tokyo." He ran a hand through his hair. "Or have you forgotten those hours we spent in the airport together?"

"I haven't forgotten," she replied. She looked her shoulder at him. "You haven't asked me how I was injured tonight. Aren't you curious, Jonathan?"

He didn't know why she was angry, why she was suddenly being so cold. Her eyes narrowed into slits. In a huff, she turned to face him.

"I was fighting some kind of cat creature," she said, anger creeping into her voice. "It was the second one I have faced this week. It's the sixth I have fought since our return to the States."

"Dear God, Celeste," he gasped. "And you didn't think to tell me!"

"Honestly, Jonathan, how could you help me?"

"Oh, so I'm to just sit around and wait to patch you up. What happens you get seriously hurt again? What if you don't make it to my apartment the next time?"

"Then I die."

"Are you even listening to what you are saying?!" he cried. He shook her by her shoulders. "You are nineteen years old, Celeste! You should be worrying about college mid-terms, not fighting monsters and dying!"

"Usagi has been fighting since she was fourteen," Celeste replied.

"Usagi also has other Sailors to help her. You, Celeste, don't have that luxury."

He ran another hand through his hair in frustration. "God, I don't know what I would do if you died, Celeste!"

Celeste watched him for a moment before she crawled across the bed and hugged him. Startled, he remained still for a moment. Then he hugged her back, laying his head on top of hers.

"You are one of the few friends I have, Jonathan," Celeste said quietly.

"I will always be your friend, Celeste," he stated. "I want to help you and be a part of your life. No one, not even someone as strong as you are, Celeste, is meant to go through life alone."

She was about to say something but yawned instead. Jonathan glanced at the alarm clock, realizing that it was four o'clock in the morning. "It's pretty late, Celeste, and you need you sleep. I will be in the other room if you need me."

"Jonathan, it's your apartment. You shouldn't have to sleep on the couch. I'd better go home."

Jonathan gave her a disbelieving look. "It's four o'clock in the morning, so don't even think about going anywhere. Get some rest. I will see you in the morning."

* * * * *

Celeste gingerly got out of bed, dimly realizing that it was six o'clock in the morning. Trying to ignore the pain and stiffness, she stumbled into the bathroom. She searched the cabinets until she found what she needed. She opened the Tylenol bottle and quickly downed two of the pills without water.

Cautiously, she stretched, trying her best not to aggravate any of the more serious injuries. Walking to the door, she opened it and found Jonathan peacefully sleeping in the recliner. With a slightly guilty conscience, she closed the door softly, retreating back into the bedroom.

She glanced down at the shirt she was wearing, grateful that the white shirt didn't look that bad with her lavender skirt. She briefly replayed the events of a few hours ago in her mind. 'Things have definitely gotten out of hand,' she thought.

Sighing, she walked into the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror. Last night's battle had certainly left its mark on her. Gently, she lifted the shirt and the top layer of bandages.

The wound was red, puffy, and ugly. 'Nothing to do but wait and see how it heals,' she decided. Washing her face, she got ready to leave.

* * * * *

Jonathan woke up as the sunlight poured through the windows of the balcony doors. He slowly sat up, surprised that he had slept that well on the couch. Wondering if Celeste was still asleep, he walked over to the bedroom door.

Knocking softly, he heard no answer and no movement in the room. He opened the door and sighed, leaning against the doorframe. He realized that he really wasn't surprised that he was staring at the made-up bed. Shaking his head, he went into the bathroom to take a shower.


Homecoming Sailor Sol tried to ignore the burning pain in her side as she surveyed the area around her. A few battered streetlights and the moon bathed the streets with shifting shadows. A foghorn sounded in the distance, and Sol both blessed and cursed the gray mist that rolled in from the harbor. A low growl snapped Sol back to her present situation. She desperately needed to put some distance between herself and the cat creature. Glancing around, she found a decaying balcony jutting from the second story of a nearby building. She took a running start and jumped, grabbing the edge of the balcony with both hands. However, the glove of her left hand slid off the masonry, leaving a bright red stain behind. Biting her lip to muffle a curse, she wiped her hand on her skirt and reached again for the balcony's edge. Satisfied with her grip, she pulled herself up. Sol backed against the wall and formed her Sun Staff. Then she seemed to blend into the shadows. She waited and soon the creature she had been battling came into the open street. The creature was grotesque, its mangled form composed of both feline and human characteristics. This was the second monster Sol had encountered this week. The other, a bird person, she had encountered just two days earlier. These creatures seemed to be searching for something, following some kind of plan. However, Sol was at a lost to its motives. She had to protect the city and the innocent people who had no idea what happened in the shadows of the night. It was a duty she performed alone, which made her battles harder. There was no back-up for her, no friends to run to her rescue. Sol was on her own. The cat thing was sniffing, picking up the scent of Sol and her blood. The Sailor Soldier looked down at her stained hands. She had to finish this battle while she still had the strength. Gripping the Sun Staff tightly, she jumped to the balcony's edge. The Sun Staff whirled above her head, the air currents shaking her hair and her skirt. "Up here, kitty-kitty," Sol taunted. The creature looked up at the balcony, its yellow eyes gleaming as it spotted its prey. It licked its lips, a guttural purr escaping for its throat. It squatted and prepared to pounce. "I don't think so," Sol stated. The staff suddenly went still in her hand. "Sol Corona Flare!" The creature howled in pain as the arc of red-orange energy passed through its body. Sol watched the ashes blow in the wind with grim satisfaction. Yet, a sudden wave of nausea assailed her, bringing her thoughts back to her injuries. She faced a difficult decision. She couldn't last much longer in her condition, already weakened by the blood she had lost so far. However, she didn't know how long she would stay conscious in her normal form and couldn't go to the hospital in her Senshi form. That left one choice, an option that Sol dreaded. 'Please be up, Jonathan,' she prayed. 'That first aid training is about to pay off.' * * * * * Jonathan sighed and punched his pillow mercilessly. He had been trying to go back to sleep for nearly an hour, but a nagging feeling that something was wrong prevented him. 'What have I forgotten?' he wondered, staring up at the ceiling. He glanced around the room, suddenly listening intently. A light tapping echoed through the otherwise silent apartment. Throwing the covers back, he walked into the living room, the direction of the noise. A figure leaned against the outdoor surface of the French doors that lead to his modest balcony. Realizing who it was, Jonathan ran across the room and unlocked the doors. Stepping into the night air, he caught Sailor Sol as she slid weakly to the ground. "Celeste! Celeste, come on! Open your eyes!" Sol moaned and laboriously opened her eyes. It was a few moments before her eyes focused on his face. "Jonathan," she whispered hoarsely. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I just couldn't go to the hospital like this." He brushed some of her hair from her face with one hand, the other still cradling her to him. "Celeste, what happened?" However, her form went limp and his free hand caught her head. She glowed, her red-orange aura enveloping her completely. As the light receded, Celeste in her normal form was in his arms. He immediately noticed the blood that covered his t-shirt and now staining Celeste's blouse. Sweeping her up, Jonathan carried her into the apartment and placed her on the couch. Turning on the light, he immediately returned to the couch. He lifted up the hem of her shirt, grimacing at the gash in her side. He moved to the bathroom and returned to the living room with the necessary supplies. Setting them on the coffee table, he debated on what to do first. Jonathan decided that the gash required the most attention. Silently asking for her forgiveness, he took off her blouse. Grabbing the antiseptic, he applied some to a clean cloth and began to clean the wound. Celeste moaned in pain, arching her back. Jonathan did his best to hold her still and continue to wash the cut. Drying the area carefully, he applied the appropriate bandaging. Satisfied, he moved on the other less serious cuts and scrapes. "What did you fight, Celeste?" he asked her unconscious form. All of her injuries had been treated to the best of his abilities. He now realized that he couldn't leave her shirtless on his couch. He carried her into his bedroom and gently laid her on the bed. Jonathan went into his closet and found a soft, fairly warm shirt. He returned to the other room and gently put it on her sleeping form. Kissing her forehead, he pulled the blankets over Celeste. He left the room, turning off the light and closing the door behind him. He placed their dirty shirts in the washing machine and cleared the first aid stuff from the coffee table. With grim determination, he cleaned the bloodstains from the couch. Satisfied with his efforts, Jonathan went back into the bedroom. Celeste was still sleep, but some color had returned to her face. He gently laid his hand against her forehead, grateful for the absence of a fever. Still, he would have to take her to the hospital, although he knew how much she hated them. He pulled the blankets higher. He took an extra pillow and blanket from a closet. With a final glance over his shoulder, he went into the living room and stretched out in the recliner. * * * * * "If you will release Jonathan, I will go with you willingly, Scorpios." "Celeste, you can't!" Jonathan cried. However, Gypsum's slap prevented the rest of his plea. "I don't think you understand, Celeste-chan," Scorpios said, running a finger along the edge of her cheekbone. "You have a choice: Serenity or Jonathan. Although, Jonathan's just really what's left of Charon." Scorpios turned and draped his arm around Jonathan's shoulders. "So, Sailor Sol, what is your choice?" Sol closed her eyes to hide the forming tears. Cursing herself, she stepped back, becoming closer to Sailor Moon. "You have made your decision, Sol. I hope you can live with it." She watched helplessly as they lead Jonathan away. She watched Gypsum and Galena shove him through the portal. She stared, tears pouring down her face, as the portal closed. Sol tried to leave. However, Pluto soon blocked her path. "Get out of my way," Sol ordered. "I can't let you do this, Tennyo-chan," Pluto said softly. Sol tried to move forward but Pluto countered every moment. "Damn it, Setsuna, let me go!" However, Pluto grabbed her shoulders. "Celeste, please, wait and let us help. Let me help." "Setsuna, get the hell out of my way! Please let me go! Let me go! Now!" * * * * * Jonathan heard Celeste crying in her sleep and jumped out of the chair. He rushed into the bedroom and sat down on the bed beside her. She was sitting up, sobbing into her hands. Wordlessly, he hugged her. She stiffened and looked up at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Oh, Jonathan, I'm so sorry." She placed her forehead against his chest and cried. "Celeste, what's wrong? What are you sorry about?" He stroked her hair. "Celeste?" She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. "That night in Tokyo . . . When Scorpios made me chose . . ." She took a steadying breath. "I wanted to choose you. If Usagi wasn't so important to the future, I would have chosen you. I'm sorry for any harm that came to you because of my decision. Jonathan, I . . ." "Shhh," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault, Celeste. I never blamed you." "You should have," she replied bitterly, pulling away. "I have been nothing but trouble to you since you met me, Jonathan." "Ten-chan," he whispered. She choked on a sob, turning her face away from that understanding look in his eyes. "Please, don't call me that! I am not Shinsei Tennyo, not completely. And you are not Charon. I won't let you have feelings for me because of who we used to be." He sighed. "Celeste, I've had feelings for you before you even left for Tokyo." He ran a hand through his hair. "Or have you forgotten those hours we spent in the airport together?" "I haven't forgotten," she replied. She looked her shoulder at him. "You haven't asked me how I was injured tonight. Aren't you curious, Jonathan?" He didn't know why she was angry, why she was suddenly being so cold. Her eyes narrowed into slits. In a huff, she turned to face him. "I was fighting some kind of cat creature," she said, anger creeping into her voice. "It was the second one I have faced this week. It's the sixth I have fought since our return to the States." "Dear God, Celeste," he gasped. "And you didn't think to tell me!" "Honestly, Jonathan, how could you help me?" "Oh, so I'm to just sit around and wait to patch you up. What happens you get seriously hurt again? What if you don't make it to my apartment the next time?" "Then I die." "Are you even listening to what you are saying?!" he cried. He shook her by her shoulders. "You are nineteen years old, Celeste! You should be worrying about college mid-terms, not fighting monsters and dying!" "Usagi has been fighting since she was fourteen," Celeste replied. "Usagi also has other Sailors to help her. You, Celeste, don't have that luxury." He ran another hand through his hair in frustration. "God, I don't know what I would do if you died, Celeste!" Celeste watched him for a moment before she crawled across the bed and hugged him. Startled, he remained still for a moment. Then he hugged her back, laying his head on top of hers. "You are one of the few friends I have, Jonathan," Celeste said quietly. "I will always be your friend, Celeste," he stated. "I want to help you and be a part of your life. No one, not even someone as strong as you are, Celeste, is meant to go through life alone." She was about to say something but yawned instead. Jonathan glanced at the alarm clock, realizing that it was four o'clock in the morning. "It's pretty late, Celeste, and you need you sleep. I will be in the other room if you need me." "Jonathan, it's your apartment. You shouldn't have to sleep on the couch. I'd better go home." Jonathan gave her a disbelieving look. "It's four o'clock in the morning, so don't even think about going anywhere. Get some rest. I will see you in the morning." * * * * * Celeste gingerly got out of bed, dimly realizing that it was six o'clock in the morning. Trying to ignore the pain and stiffness, she stumbled into the bathroom. She searched the cabinets until she found what she needed. She opened the Tylenol bottle and quickly downed two of the pills without water. Cautiously, she stretched, trying her best not to aggravate any of the more serious injuries. Walking to the door, she opened it and found Jonathan peacefully sleeping in the recliner. With a slightly guilty conscience, she closed the door softly, retreating back into the bedroom. She glanced down at the shirt she was wearing, grateful that the white shirt didn't look that bad with her lavender skirt. She briefly replayed the events of a few hours ago in her mind. 'Things have definitely gotten out of hand,' she thought. Sighing, she walked into the bathroom and studied herself in the mirror. Last night's battle had certainly left its mark on her. Gently, she lifted the shirt and the top layer of bandages. The wound was red, puffy, and ugly. 'Nothing to do but wait and see how it heals,' she decided. Washing her face, she got ready to leave. * * * * * Jonathan woke up as the sunlight poured through the windows of the balcony doors. He slowly sat up, surprised that he had slept that well on the couch. Wondering if Celeste was still asleep, he walked over to the bedroom door. Knocking softly, he heard no answer and no movement in the room. He opened the door and sighed, leaning against the doorframe. He realized that he really wasn't surprised that he was staring at the made-up bed. Shaking his head, he went into the bathroom to take a shower.


Chapter 2: A Different Type of Battle Sailor Sol: Homefront