AN: Stop throwing things at me! –ducks- I've been working on Stone Ashes. I just wrote a . . . . BWHAHAHAHA! Thought I was going to give something away did you? This rabbit is just a little too smart for that. But seriously, this is the fourth and final little vignette in the set. I think I've gotten to know my love . . . .um, the Shitennou, much better through these sort little pieces. I hope that you've enjoyed them. This is Zoisite's piece. The song it was inspired by? Wait to the end! Impatient little devil aren't you? lol. Remember to review!

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN Sailor Moon or any of the characters associated with it. I DO, however, OWN the story. Don't make me have to hunt you down, remember in Texas we hang 'em high.

Waking up with a start I hurriedly glance around, finding comfort in the familiar surroundings. It's an enormous room with deep plush blue carpet. The furniture is all made of deep mahogany – the desk, the wall size bookcase, armoire, and the four-poster bed. Sighing, I lean back into the comfort of the soft white pillows. Next to me something stirs, or rather someone. Smiling now I lightly stroke her now shoulder length blue hair and press a kiss to her temple. Murmuring incoherently she turns towards me, lying on her side, and falls back into blissful sleep.

Lovingly I pull the white cotton sheet up to cover her. Yes, white, no other color could ever do her justice. She is still so pure, so innocent after all these years. Me? Well . . . when I look down at my hands, I can still see her blood and it's as fresh as ever. And that's what actually what woke me up . . . a nightmare, the nightmare of the night I killed her. I ran her through with my sword and tauntingly whispered in her ear, 'So long Echo.' Thinking of such things makes me want to run, to put as much distance between us as humanly possible. How can I trust myself ever again not to fall prey to some evil force? Not to hurt her again? How can she trust me for that matter?

But looking down at her I am suddenly struck with such an overwhelming sense of love that it's frightening. Remembering our first encounter after the Awakening no one would have ever thought that I'd be sharing a bed with her . . . let alone calling her my wife. My wife. It still seems like ages since I've called her that, since I've held her in my arms. Lovingly I trace her jaw-line ever so slowly.

My mind wanders back to the day that I finally told her that I loved her, that I had never stopped loving her . . . that she was still my Echo. She had cried then and my heart stopped. But after what seemed like an eternity she confessed that she loved me too . . . that she was so lucky that she could have a second chance.

And looking at her now I can't help but want to laugh. She thinks she's the lucky one. She could have spurned me, laughed in my face, cast me aside without so much as a second thought and I would have deserved it. She never realized . . . and she still hasn't realized . . . .

She told me . . . still tells me actually that she was amazed by our, my, courage and determination to prove ourselves . . . our loyalty. She calls it courage. I call it penance and I will never, no matter how much I try make up for that sin. None of us will. Our hands will forever be stained with blood, their blood. But they all swear that we're as tough as nails for sticking it out, that there's nothing left to be forgiven for. Ah! The naiveté of the innocent.

Does she know me so little? Sometimes I'm amazed at the way she thinks. Ok, fine, most of the time I'm amazed. She's brilliant, funny, sweet, everything a man could ever want. But after everything, she's forgiven me. She trusts me implicitly. To her, I walk on water. She'd swear I hung the moon. I can do no wrong now . . . .

And that frightens me that blind trust . . . that unwavering devotion . . . that delivered her so nicely to me that night. She came uncalled . . . against orders . . . straight into my waiting arms, straight to her death. A shiver runs down my spine.

Somehow she senses it, even in her sleep, and moves to cuddle next to my side, placing her head on my chest . . . listening to my heart. That gesture no matter how small gives me such a sense of comfort. Wrapping my arms around her, I wonder once more, How can she not know?

Pressing a kiss to her forehead I close my eyes and hear her words from a millennia ago, begging me not to return to Earth.

"Don't go, Zoi, please. I love you . . . I need you."

She needed me. She still needs me. Or at least so she thinks and that's the one real reason she'll never know, the reason it will never dawn on her.

I need her. I need her kisses, her touch . . . . I'd fall apart without her. My life, though still duty and honor bound to Endymion, would be nothing without her . . . everything I do is for her. I couldn't live without her. She's my world. She's my everything. I hold her but the gods know she's really holding me. I need her so much, more than air . . . but she'll always think that she's the one that needs me. That she's the lucky one. It's just her nature, just like she still blushes to her roots when I pass her little notes during meetings. I wish she could realize it . . . but it's enough I suppose. So before I join her in blissful sleep, I softly whisper into her hair, "I love you, Ami."

A/N: The song that inspired this is "She Thinks She Needs Me" by Andy Griggs. I hope you enjoyed it. I've been dying to write this fic since I first heard this song. It just seemed to fit Ami and Zoi just so much better than any of the other couples. -DH