I don't think I've ever written for these two like this. I feel like the time has come. Enjoy.

"Say it," Mummymon said, his voice breaking the uncomfortable, deafening silence they'd fallen into.

The Sun was bright in the sky, bathing the lonely meadow in warm, golden light. That afternoon, like many others, was peaceful. The two digimon, both looking more human than most others, laid peacefully in the fresh, Spring-coated grass, nostalgically starring in the distance as though it would, somehow, magically, make the discomfort disappear. As though it would help the emptiness tugging at their lonely, broken hearts.

"What?" Archnemon asked, pulling down her glasses and tossing them to the side. Her golden eyes squinted at the Sun's sudden attack and she instinctively clasped a hand over them, protecting them from further assault. She'd never been a woman of many words. Even before their rebirth, she'd preferred to keep to herself.

Talking to Mummymon was so exhausting. He never knew when to shut up and just let her be.

"You know what," he said, sneaking her a meaningful glance she could never ignore, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that it was annoying and unnecessary and just not the right time.

He'd always had that effect on her. She could never figure out exactly what caused it. She just knew it was there and was never going away, despite her silent protests.

"You'd been awfully quiet," he pointed out.

She scoffed, barely resisting the urge to smack him. It was the strangest thing – ever since they'd been given their new lives and reunited, she couldn't, for the life of her, treat him the way she'd used to. Something was standing in her way, stopping her from acting; something deep inside, restraining her, keeping her in line she'd never knew she possessed.

It was always there, that something, though only recently she began noticing it.

It was sickening. She wished for it to go away, yet it never did. If anything, it seemed to grow stronger every day.

She wished to kick herself first for even, dare she say, feeling it.

"Ever since…" Mummymon continued, trailing off, ignoring her silence.

"Don't you dare say it!" she snapped, poising herself up into a sitting position. Her eyes darted over to his, shooting him a glare that threatened murder. A second one.

"I'm just saying–"

"Don't!" she cut him off. She didn't want to talk about it. Not here, not now, and especially not with him.

Dying was hard enough.

Talking about it was harder.

"There's nothing to say."

If she'd even said a word, she'd have to lower her guard, and she knew he'd use that chance to get in, to try to get close to her, to – she scoffed to herself – bond with her. How despicable that sounded! She needed no bonding with anyone, especially the pathetic likes of him.

Last time she'd let anyone get close, she paid for it with her life.

She wasn't making that mistake again.

And she wasn't talking about it.

Even thinking about it hurt. Not that she'd admit it aloud.

"It's not healthy to keep it all in," Mummymon said matter-of-factly. Since when had he become an expert on emotional health? "I've seen a human explain it on TV once. He said you should talk about your feelings, or you'll get sick." He took a moment to ponder on it, before adding a reluctant, barely audible: "Or something like that."

Feelings. Archnemon scoffed in annoyance. How… human that sounded. She might have been partly human, but she shared none of their traits. Feelings, emotions, fears… She shuddered at the horrifying memory. Those were all the things that she did not possess, that she was not capable of.

Not even that idiot could convince her otherwise.

After all, refusing to accept reality hurt less than living it. She'd learned the hard way.

"I won't tell anyone," Mummymon added.

Archnemon rolled her eyes, now more than ever wanting to smack him in the mouth to stop him from saying another word. As if he'd had anyone else to tell. They've both been left all alone, with no one by their side but each other. She'd never thought a lone life would be so… well, lonely. They'd never had many people by their side, though he had always been there, in their lives. Since the moment they were born, or created, of whatever the hell their beginnings were called, he'd always lived in their shadow. Watching them, controlling them, ordering them around like puppets.

And now he was gone.

And Archnemon didn't know what was real anymore.

He wasn't, that was for sure.

Maybe they weren't, either.

"Leave me alone," she growled, sparing Mummymon one final glare before putting her purple glasses back on and leaning her head back, enjoying the peace the lone meadow had to offer. No digimon in sight but them made for a wonderful afternoon. After all, she'd never been much of a people person.

"Do you think he was reborn, too?" the mummy kept on, prompting the spider woman to clench her teeth in rage, her hands balling into angry fists of contempt.

Why did he have to bring him up again? Wasn't it enough that that monster resided in her nightmares, haunting her like a lingering, vengeful ghost? Now she had to think about him during the day, too. And she wouldn't stop until it drove her insane, for once he entered her thoughts, she knew he'd never leave. It was as if the mere thought of him was alive, eating at her, swallowing her whole like he had that horrifying time.

Why couldn't Mummymon just let her be?

"Don't care," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She wouldn't make herself say his name. The bastard deserved much less; even her thinking about him was too much. Oh, how she wished he'd rot in hell. If she were to ever find him, she'd make sure that good for nothing vampire paid for what he'd done, that it hurt him as much as it hurt her. Maybe even more, for good measure.

No one murders her and gets away with it.

"But do you–"

"I said I don't care!" Archnemon snapped, taking in deep, steady breaths, trying to calm herself down for if she were to lose it, there was no telling what she would do to her pesky friend. "Why do you keep bringing him up? This is, what, third time this week? Enough already!"

"I just want you to talk to me," Mummymon explained, heartbroken. He'd just wanted his beloved to feel safe talking to him. Had he done, or said something wrong? "You never tell me anything. Since we came back, it seems like you're avoiding me."

"Maybe I am avoiding you," she suggested casually. Oh, she was definitely avoiding him.

Talking to him felt more like a chore than something she'd enjoyed. And she hated chores.

"I think you're just scared." There, he said it. It's been bugging him for weeks, and he'd finally gathered enough courage to say it out loud.

Archnemon shot him a glare, dangerously close to putting her hands around his neck and squeezing. She was certain she'd relish in feeling her long, perfectly manicured purple nails digging into that soft skin of his, drawing blood in heavy droplets.

Just like his dug into hers all those months ago.

She shuddered at the memory. Damn you, Mummymon!

"You know," Mummymon kept on, ignoring her deadly stare, "I'm scared, too." She'd expected nothing less from the whimpering mummy. "When… that… happened, I thought I'd never see you again."

She'd thought so, too. And, as much as it pained her to admit it, she hated that thought. She wanted to see him – especially then when all hope was lost and everything hurt. Mummymon had been the only one she'd had left at her side.

Him, or the person he pretended to be, was all a lie. He'd wanted dolls to play with, to manipulate to his every whim. They were expandable to him, barely worth a breath. It took him no effort to kill them when they'd served their purpose.

The mummy was the only real friend she'd had left, the only one who believed in her.

The only one who fought for her. Even those chosen children, the ones calling themselves heroes, saviors, had given up on her.

Mummymon never had. Even after all she'd done, he still believed she was worth saving, worth dying for.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," he said, snapping her out of painful thoughts.

Archnemon didn't know how to properly respond. She'd never been good with feelings, these things she'd tried her hardest to ignore, to deny she'd had for it hurt too much to let herself get lost in them after… after that.

She'd seen Mummymon fight. She'd seen him run up to her, try to free her. She'd seen him cry and scream and beg for her to be left alone. She'd seen him throw his life away for her, even after she'd spent all of hers trying to push him away, trying to keep her distance.

She'd seen the bravery glistening in that single, tearful eye of his.

She'd seen the him that had always been there, the him who loved and fought for her, who cared for no one and nothing but her.

The one who'd chosen her over himself, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

Taking in a breath, Archnemon whispered: "You tried." She knew that was all he wanted to hear. An acknowledgment, a sign that she noticed, that she cared. It was the least she could give him after everything that's happened.

She owed him that much.

"He won't hurt you again," Mummymon said cautiously, observing her to see her reaction.

She just shrugged, a small smirk creeping onto her violet lips. "I know." For she'll kill herself first before letting him get to her again. That much she'd promised.

She turned to her mummified friend, sighing in defeat, prompting him to put on a tiny victorious smile. He always knew his way around her. He knew her at her best, and at her worst. There was nothing she could do to ever hide her thoughts or feelings around him. Sometimes, and she hated herself for admitting it, she liked having him around for that very thing – he'd just know, and that was enough for her. There needn't to be a word spoken for him to understand.

He was annoying, yes, but he knew, and he knew her. And she loved that about him.

"Mummymon?" she whispered softly.

His head instantly snapped in her direction, a warm smile lingering on his thin, grayish lips. "Yes?"

Archnemon cracked what appeared to be a smile, or at least an attempt at one. He could never tell with her. "I would have done the same for you."

That thought alone was enough for him to chuckle and lean his head against her shoulder, letting out a happy, girlish squeal of joy. The spider woman rolled her eyes, but said nothing, allowing him to lean in, to get comfortable against her strong, pale body. He'd better appreciate her moment of good mood for she was sure it wouldn't last.

For now, all she wanted was to forget that day ever happened.

And for him to stay with her forever.

I hope you guys liked it. :D