Chapter 13: Clashes of Wills

Giving up on reading to relax him, Jonathan slammed his book close and got up from his desk. Although he was tired, a nagging feeling kept plaguing him, preventing him from relaxing. Something was off, wrong, but he couldn’t figure out it was.

With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair. The feeling reminded him of the sensation he had experienced before he had found Celeste bleeding on his balcony. That revelation startled him and he hastily grabbed the phone.

Dialing Celeste’s number, he prayed that she would pick up. He didn’t know what he would say if she did, not quite willing to admit that a vague sense of uneasiness had spooked him. However, if he knew that she was home and safe, the phone call and possible embarrassment would have been worth it.

“Come on, Celeste, pick up,” he murmured, listening to the phone as it continued to ring.

Finally the line opened. “Hi, it’s me. I’m not able to get the phone, so leave a message. Bye.”

Jonathan growled in frustration at reaching the answering machine. “Celeste, this is Jonathan. When you get this, call me no matter what time it is. I meant it. Bye.”

With a sense of defeat, he hung the phone up. She wasn’t home. She could be out there hurt from fighting, and he wouldn’t know it until it was too late.

Through the window, the moon shone, partially obscured by the thickening clouds. “Please, wherever you are, Celeste, be safe,” he prayed.

He glanced out the window, studying the moon as it bathed the city in its ethereal light. Was she out there somewhere fighting or injured? At that moment, could she be dying?

He noticed Celeste’s Christmas gift to him. However, image grew fuzzy before becoming completely out of focus. Suddenly, another scene took its place.

* * * * *

Holding her ribs tightly with one arm, Sailor Sol stumbled awkwardly backwards. The ploy put some distance between her and her opponent, but it didn’t buy her much time. She had barely caught her breath before she was attacked again.

“Is that all you’ve got?” her opponent growled. “I expected more from the Celestial Phoenix.”

His confidence brought him too close to his watchful opponent. With surprising quickness, she swung her arm back, striking him across his face. As he was still dazed, she pivoted, using her leg to knock his feet out from under him.

She stood over him as he fought to breathe, desperate to have the air return to his lungs. “Never be overconfident in your own abilities, Your Highness. It will lead to your downfall.”

With a final glance, she turned and walked away. As he laid on the cold, moist ground, the prince reflected on what had just occurred. Her words had been calm but sad, without the heat or the venom he had expected. What was even more surprising was that there had been tears in those emerald eyes.

Closing his own eyes, Charon sighed. “By the gods, I’m a fool.”

* * * * *

Jonathan blinked several times, wondering what had just happened. Feeling weak, he sat down in the nearest chair and leaned his head back. After several deep, slow breaths, he began to relax.

Why did his first memories of his life as Charon had to be of him fighting Celeste? He had assumed that he and Celeste had been in love during the Silver Millennium. Celeste had told him that he had been Setsuna’s brother and that he had been engaged to Shinsei Tennyo. However, the attack on the Moon Kingdom had occurred before they were to marry.

Shaking his head, Jonathan realized that he never asked Celeste for any real details about the past. He never given much thought about what their relationship had been before their engagement. Closing his eyes, he again he had so many questions he was afraid to have answered.

A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. In an instant, he was on his feet and crossing the room. His face lighted up with a relieved smiled as he opened the door. “Celeste.”

“Hi, Jonathan,” she greeted with a smile matching his. “I hope that I didn’t come at a bad time.”

“No, please, come in.”

He stepped back, letting her enter. As she walked, he noticed how stiffly she carried herself. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly noticed the tangy copper scent in the air.

He watched her as she gingerly set her gym bag down on the carpet, her movements still slow and guarded. A dull red smudge on her hand confirmed his suspicions. “You’re hurt.”

She froze for a moment. “It’s nothing really.”

He sighed. “Take off your coat and go into the kitchen. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I didn’t come here for you to patch me up,” Celeste protested. “I came to see you.”

“I’m not going to sit and let you bleed to death while we have a chat.”

Celeste finally looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll make this easy for the both of us.”

In a whirl of motion, she grabbed her bag and headed to the door. Although she was moving fine, Jonathan could see the tightness in her face due to the pain. Moving quickly, he grabbed her wrist and placed himself between her and the door.

“Never be overconfident in your own abilities. It will lead to your downfall.”

All the angry color drained from Celeste’s face as she blanched at the words. She stared at Jonathan, all intents of storming out of his apartment gone. Several questions flickered in her eyes. “What did you say?”

“Never be overconfident in your own abilities. It will lead to your downfall,” he repeated carefully.

“Why did you say that to me?”

“Why is it upsetting you?”

Growling in frustration, she raised her hands to shove him out of the way. He grabbed her wrists and held her hands up for inspection. As he had feared, one of her hands was still wet with blood. Also, the skin he held felt too warm.

“Let’s make a deal,” he offered, still hold her arms.

A tentative tug of her arms told her he wasn’t letting her go easily. “What kind of deal?”

“Go into the kitchen and let me take care of your wounds. After that, I will explain why I said that to you. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” she replied tersely.

Without further ado, he released her arms. As she headed into the kitchen, she dropped her gym bag back on the floor again, along with her jacket. With a sigh, Jonathan headed to retrieve his first aid supplies. At the rate Celeste was going, he was going to replenish his kit soon.

As he re-entered the kitchen, Celeste was already seated on a stool. She had taken off her sweater, leaving her dress in a bloodstained white t-shirt and jeans. Fighting the urge to yell at her, he placed the supplies on the counter and began to inspect her injuries.

Celeste flinched as he gingerly pulled her makeshift bandages from the wounds. Although dried cakes of blood covered most of the wounds, fresh crimson still seeped from them. With a sigh, he grabbed the bottle of peroxide, knowing that it would be the least painful away to clean away the dried blood and clean the wound.

“You’re going to need to take off your shirt,” he stated quietly, handing her a towel.

Nodding, she took it. She was mildly amused as he turned his back, remembering that the last time he had treated her injuries, he had seen her without a shirt on. However, she was conscious this time and she appreciated the gesture.

Within a few moments, she had the shirt off and the towel covering her chest. The arrangement still protected her modesty yet allowed Jonathan to attend the wounds. “You can look now.”

He took his seat again on the stool beside her. Taking another towel, he wrapped in around her waist, just below the tears in her side. Satisfied with the setup, he opened the bottle.

“This may hurt some, but this best way I know to do this,” he explained. “Ready?”

She nodded. True to his word, it stung as he poured generous amounts on her wounds. However, the sensation soon passed.

“Where did you learn first aid?” she asked.

“My father taught me,” Jonathan replied. “He's a doctor and thought it is important for everyone to know how to care for simple injuries.”

“Did you ever want to go into medicine?”

He shook his head. “No, it never appealed to me. I guess that’s one of the reasons we fought before I left for college. He wanted his son to follow in his footsteps and take over his practice. Dad never understood my decision to pursue history.”

“What about your mother, Jonathan?”

“She tried to help Dad see how unhappy I would be if I was forced into a career that I would hate and tried to get me to stop fighting with Dad about everything. It didn't help.”

“But you still talk to her don’t you?”

He nodded. “Every couple of weeks I'll call her or Bethany, my sister, just to keep in touch. They want to come see me for New Year’s, but I don’t know if I want them to or not.”

“Why?”

“They want to bring Dad with them.”

Celeste reached for one of his hands, making him look at her face instead of her shoulder.

“Jonathan, they're your family,” she stated quietly. “They will always be your family, and you are lucky to have. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my parents or Aunt Grace. Don’t you think that it’s time for you and your father to make peace?”

He turned his attention back to her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would say to him if I saw him.”

“How about ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’ for starters,” she replied.

“And if he doesn’t accept that?”

She shrugged. “Then at least you’ll know that at least you tried to make amends.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Right now, I’m going to finish this bandaging and get you some clean clothes to change into.”

“If I keep this up, half your closet will be at my apartment,” she joked.

He smiled. “That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Anyway, I hope that Sofia walked away from this battle in better shape than you did.”

Celeste froze. “She didn’t fight.”

“You didn’t contact her? You still faced that alone?”

“She’s never fought before, Jonathan. I was afraid that she would get hurt.”

“And you didn’t think that you would?”

“If she had some training, I wouldn’t be so reluctant to include her. But since she doesn’t, I am not going to risk her getting hurt in a battle.”

“So, why don’t you train her?”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Train her,” he repeated. “Then, when you think that she’s ready, you can allow her to help you in the battles. From what little you tell me, it seems like that creatures are getting stronger and smarter. You are going to need the help, Celeste.”

“I don’t know,” she said hesitantly.

He sighed. “At least give her a chance, Celeste.”

“I’ll think about,” she replied. “Now, weren’t you going to tell me why you said those words to me earlier?”

He nodded, giving the bandages one final inspection. “Yes, but it can wait until after you get dressed. Come on, and I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“You’re welcome.” Taking her hand, he led her across the apartment to his room.


Clashes of Wills Giving up on reading to relax him, Jonathan slammed his book close and got up from his desk. Although he was tired, a nagging feeling kept plaguing him, preventing him from relaxing. Something was off, wrong, but he couldn’t figure out it was. With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair. The feeling reminded him of the sensation he had experienced before he had found Celeste bleeding on his balcony. That revelation startled him and he hastily grabbed the phone. Dialing Celeste’s number, he prayed that she would pick up. He didn’t know what he would say if she did, not quite willing to admit that a vague sense of uneasiness had spooked him. However, if he knew that she was home and safe, the phone call and possible embarrassment would have been worth it. “Come on, Celeste, pick up,” he murmured, listening to the phone as it continued to ring. Finally the line opened. “Hi, it’s me. I’m not able to get the phone, so leave a message. Bye.” Jonathan growled in frustration at reaching the answering machine. “Celeste, this is Jonathan. When you get this, call me no matter what time it is. I meant it. Bye.” With a sense of defeat, he hung the phone up. She wasn’t home. She could be out there hurt from fighting, and he wouldn’t know it until it was too late. Through the window, the moon shone, partially obscured by the thickening clouds. “Please, wherever you are, Celeste, be safe,” he prayed. He glanced out the window, studying the moon as it bathed the city in its ethereal light. Was she out there somewhere fighting or injured? At that moment, could she be dying? He noticed Celeste’s Christmas gift to him. However, image grew fuzzy before becoming completely out of focus. Suddenly, another scene took its place. * * * * * Holding her ribs tightly with one arm, Sailor Sol stumbled awkwardly backwards. The ploy put some distance between her and her opponent, but it didn’t buy her much time. She had barely caught her breath before she was attacked again. “Is that all you’ve got?” her opponent growled. “I expected more from the Celestial Phoenix.” His confidence brought him too close to his watchful opponent. With surprising quickness, she swung her arm back, striking him across his face. As he was still dazed, she pivoted, using her leg to knock his feet out from under him. She stood over him as he fought to breathe, desperate to have the air return to his lungs. “Never be overconfident in your own abilities, Your Highness. It will lead to your downfall.” With a final glance, she turned and walked away. As he laid on the cold, moist ground, the prince reflected on what had just occurred. Her words had been calm but sad, without the heat or the venom he had expected. What was even more surprising was that there had been tears in those emerald eyes. Closing his own eyes, Charon sighed. “By the gods, I’m a fool.” * * * * * Jonathan blinked several times, wondering what had just happened. Feeling weak, he sat down in the nearest chair and leaned his head back. After several deep, slow breaths, he began to relax. Why did his first memories of his life as Charon had to be of him fighting Celeste? He had assumed that he and Celeste had been in love during the Silver Millennium. Celeste had told him that he had been Setsuna’s brother and that he had been engaged to Shinsei Tennyo. However, the attack on the Moon Kingdom had occurred before they were to marry. Shaking his head, Jonathan realized that he never asked Celeste for any real details about the past. He never given much thought about what their relationship had been before their engagement. Closing his eyes, he again he had so many questions he was afraid to have answered. A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. In an instant, he was on his feet and crossing the room. His face lighted up with a relieved smiled as he opened the door. “Celeste.” “Hi, Jonathan,” she greeted with a smile matching his. “I hope that I didn’t come at a bad time.” “No, please, come in.” He stepped back, letting her enter. As she walked, he noticed how stiffly she carried herself. Taking a deep breath, he suddenly noticed the tangy copper scent in the air. He watched her as she gingerly set her gym bag down on the carpet, her movements still slow and guarded. A dull red smudge on her hand confirmed his suspicions. “You’re hurt.” She froze for a moment. “It’s nothing really.” He sighed. “Take off your coat and go into the kitchen. I’ll be there in a minute.” “I didn’t come here for you to patch me up,” Celeste protested. “I came to see you.” “I’m not going to sit and let you bleed to death while we have a chat.” Celeste finally looked at him, her eyes narrowed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll make this easy for the both of us.” In a whirl of motion, she grabbed her bag and headed to the door. Although she was moving fine, Jonathan could see the tightness in her face due to the pain. Moving quickly, he grabbed her wrist and placed himself between her and the door. “Never be overconfident in your own abilities. It will lead to your downfall.” All the angry color drained from Celeste’s face as she blanched at the words. She stared at Jonathan, all intents of storming out of his apartment gone. Several questions flickered in her eyes. “What did you say?” “Never be overconfident in your own abilities. It will lead to your downfall,” he repeated carefully. “Why did you say that to me?” “Why is it upsetting you?” Growling in frustration, she raised her hands to shove him out of the way. He grabbed her wrists and held her hands up for inspection. As he had feared, one of her hands was still wet with blood. Also, the skin he held felt too warm. “Let’s make a deal,” he offered, still hold her arms. A tentative tug of her arms told her he wasn’t letting her go easily. “What kind of deal?” “Go into the kitchen and let me take care of your wounds. After that, I will explain why I said that to you. Do we have a deal?” “Yes,” she replied tersely. Without further ado, he released her arms. As she headed into the kitchen, she dropped her gym bag back on the floor again, along with her jacket. With a sigh, Jonathan headed to retrieve his first aid supplies. At the rate Celeste was going, he was going to replenish his kit soon. As he re-entered the kitchen, Celeste was already seated on a stool. She had taken off her sweater, leaving her dress in a bloodstained white t-shirt and jeans. Fighting the urge to yell at her, he placed the supplies on the counter and began to inspect her injuries. Celeste flinched as he gingerly pulled her makeshift bandages from the wounds. Although dried cakes of blood covered most of the wounds, fresh crimson still seeped from them. With a sigh, he grabbed the bottle of peroxide, knowing that it would be the least painful away to clean away the dried blood and clean the wound. “You’re going to need to take off your shirt,” he stated quietly, handing her a towel. Nodding, she took it. She was mildly amused as he turned his back, remembering that the last time he had treated her injuries, he had seen her without a shirt on. However, she was conscious this time and she appreciated the gesture. Within a few moments, she had the shirt off and the towel covering her chest. The arrangement still protected her modesty yet allowed Jonathan to attend the wounds. “You can look now.” He took his seat again on the stool beside her. Taking another towel, he wrapped in around her waist, just below the tears in her side. Satisfied with the setup, he opened the bottle. “This may hurt some, but this best way I know to do this,” he explained. “Ready?” She nodded. True to his word, it stung as he poured generous amounts on her wounds. However, the sensation soon passed. “Where did you learn first aid?” she asked. “My father taught me,” Jonathan replied. “He's a doctor and thought it is important for everyone to know how to care for simple injuries.” “Did you ever want to go into medicine?” He shook his head. “No, it never appealed to me. I guess that’s one of the reasons we fought before I left for college. He wanted his son to follow in his footsteps and take over his practice. Dad never understood my decision to pursue history.” “What about your mother, Jonathan?” “She tried to help Dad see how unhappy I would be if I was forced into a career that I would hate and tried to get me to stop fighting with Dad about everything. It didn't help.” “But you still talk to her don’t you?” He nodded. “Every couple of weeks I'll call her or Bethany, my sister, just to keep in touch. They want to come see me for New Year’s, but I don’t know if I want them to or not.” “Why?” “They want to bring Dad with them.” Celeste reached for one of his hands, making him look at her face instead of her shoulder. “Jonathan, they're your family,” she stated quietly. “They will always be your family, and you are lucky to have. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my parents or Aunt Grace. Don’t you think that it’s time for you and your father to make peace?” He turned his attention back to her shoulder. “I don’t know what I would say to him if I saw him.” “How about ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’ for starters,” she replied. “And if he doesn’t accept that?” She shrugged. “Then at least you’ll know that at least you tried to make amends.” “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Right now, I’m going to finish this bandaging and get you some clean clothes to change into.” “If I keep this up, half your closet will be at my apartment,” she joked. He smiled. “That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing. Anyway, I hope that Sofia walked away from this battle in better shape than you did.” Celeste froze. “She didn’t fight.” “You didn’t contact her? You still faced that alone?” “She’s never fought before, Jonathan. I was afraid that she would get hurt.” “And you didn’t think that you would?” “If she had some training, I wouldn’t be so reluctant to include her. But since she doesn’t, I am not going to risk her getting hurt in a battle.” “So, why don’t you train her?” She stared at him. “What?” “Train her,” he repeated. “Then, when you think that she’s ready, you can allow her to help you in the battles. From what little you tell me, it seems like that creatures are getting stronger and smarter. You are going to need the help, Celeste.” “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. He sighed. “At least give her a chance, Celeste.” “I’ll think about,” she replied. “Now, weren’t you going to tell me why you said those words to me earlier?” He nodded, giving the bandages one final inspection. “Yes, but it can wait until after you get dressed. Come on, and I’ll get you some clean clothes.” “Thank you,” she said simply. “You’re welcome.” Taking her hand, he led her across the apartment to his room.


Chapter 14: Feelings and Memories Homefront