Lather and Nothing Else:

A Rocksteady story

-Hey Rocketshipper here. The following fanfic is a short story I wrote recently connected to my most recent full length fanfic "Rescue Me", which is a TMNT story focused on Rocksteady and Bebop. Those two are my favorite characters in the whole TMNT franchise, and since there seem to be barely any fanfics starring them, I ended up writing my own. This story started out as just an event that I would make reference to in the epilogue of my fanfic, but then the idea expanded into a full chapter and I ultimately decided that it would work better as a stand-alone short story. The events take place the day after Chapter 19 of my main fic; I tried to write it so it would be understandable to all audiences while still having it connected to the main story, so you shouldn't have to read "Rescue Me" to understand what is going on, but it does make reference to it. If you like this story, please check out the main fanfic as well, I'd love to hear any and all feedback. Of course the usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the character Rocksteady or anything from the TMNT franchise, though most of the story's content is my own. The title of the fanfic is a reference to a famous Spanish short story; this is not a direct adaption of that story, but it does have similarities in both the situation and the themes, so I thought it would be apropos to use the title as kind of a shout out ^^. The title was actually the last thing I came up with, I wrote the story without thinking about any of the similarities to that story. Oh, and the same note applies to this as to my main fanfic; this story has a few more "spiritual" elements to it than my previous fanfics; I don't intend to offend anyone or force my beliefs, and I hope that isn't what will come across. So anyway, I hope you will enjoy it!-

Rocksteady'd had a very very long day. But that really wasn't a surprise; he'd still had a lot of fallout to deal with from his embarrassing meltdown the evening before last.

He'd spent most of the morning at the clinic having his more serious injuries checked out. The doctor pronounced the gash on his arm to be healing nicely already, and not in need of any additional medical intervention. His right hand was another story. An X-ray revealed that Rocksteady had cracked bones in two fingers and in the metacarpal behind his middle knuckle. A boxer's fracture, the doctor had called it, which made sense, considering how he'd gotten it. The doc had chastised him soundly for not coming in sooner, as the inflammation had already been worsened from his waiting a day and a half. He gave Rocksteady a cortisone shot right in his hand, to help with the pain and inflammation, and then fitted him with a stiff pressure brace, their largest size and modified slightly to accommodate his only having four fingers. Rocksteady had been surprised it wasn't a full on plaster cast, but the doctor told him the brace would be just as functional, and he'd be able to take it off when needed, like for showering. He had to admit that the brace was pretty comfortable now, and the shot had done wonders, even though it hurt like hell when the doc first injected him.

After the doctor Rocksteady went to see his boss, Ike, at the work site downtown, both to tell him that he'd decided not to quit his job after all, and to inform him that he'd have to take some time off to heal after his little "incident" the night before last. No heavy lifting for him with his hand like it was. He'd meant it to be just a quick informative visit, but he'd ended up having lunch with Ike and talking about the incident and his overall job performance lately and various other things. Ike had chewed him out as well, but without any malice, and had granted him the permission to take time off. "If you'd shown up to work today looking like you do, I'd have sent you packing, even if your hand wasn't busted. I don't want to see you again until you're in healthy working order, you hear?" he'd said. Rocksteady also saw a few of his coworkers during his visit, and all of them expressed concern for his current state and wished him a fast recovery. It made Rocksteady feel good to know that there were people around that cared about him and valued his work. It was something he'd had trouble noticing before, even when it had been there all along.

So overall it had been a long day, and Rocksteady was exhausted. It had been on his way home that the mutant suddenly thought of a way he might relax; something he'd wanted to do for a while but never worked up the courage to try.

Rocksteady rounded the corner of the building and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves and his quickly beating heart. It was 4:30, only an hour and a half before closing time, and he'd observed that the shop was usually not very busy around this time, on this particular day, but he still felt a bit nervous. In the six months since leaving Shredder's employment, he'd never done anything quite like this before. Heck, he hadn't really done anything like this since being mutated, period. He and Bebop had made a lot of progress in their recent integration into society; they both had jobs, an apartment, places where they were now comfortable going to eat and shop without needing to worry about being kicked out or scaring anyone because of the way they looked. But to Rocksteady this felt like another step forward into the unknown, and a little apprehension was to be expected. The mutant shook his head as he walked, and tried to get his nerves back to normal. It shouldn't be that big a deal. Really the worst thing that could happen would be the guy would say no or ask him to leave and that would be it. Right, that would be it. Rocksteady nodded and mentally psyched himself up as he approached the establishment. Even so, he felt a bit of relief that there was no one else in the immediate vicinity. Taking a deep breath, Rocksteady walked across the sidewalk and opened the door to The Goodfellas Barbershop.

To Rocksteady's relief, the waiting chairs were empty of customers; just as he'd predicted, this hour was slow for the establishment. One barber sat cross legged in the farthest chair, reading a newspaper. He was a heavyset Italian man of about medium height with greying black hair that was beginning to recede from his forehead. He looked to be in his late 40s or early 50s. He sported a well-kept goatee, which was also showing signs of gray. As soon as the mutant Rhino walked through the door, the barber looked up from his paper, his eyes growing wide with surprise, though Rocksteady didn't detect any fear. He felt his heart begin to beat a little faster, as the nervousness returned. He raised a hand and smiled as warmly as he could. "Hey…" he started lamely, "How's it going?"

The barber looked a little more surprised and set his paper down. "He speaks." He said, with a bit of amusement. His voice was very deep and gravely; Rocksteady thought he sounded a little like an older version of that actor who played the comedic rubber faced guy in all those movies; the ones where he was always going to camp or saving Christmas or stuff like that.

Rocksteady smiled nervously. "Yeah, I talk." He said, more amused than offended.

The Barber stood up and set the paper down on the chair, walking towards Rocksteady with a curious look on his face. "I've seen you around the neighborhood before, right? At the grocery store down the street. Think I've seen you walk by the window a couple times too. You live around here?" He asked.

"Um, yeah." Rocksteady responded, not sure if this was going in a good direction or bad. "I live in da apartment around da block."

"Yeah, I knew it." The Barber said, smiling. "Kind of interesting to meet a real live mutant living in my own neighborhood."

"You know I'm a mutant?" Rocksteady asked with surprise.

The barber laughed. "Son, everyone in New York knows what mutants are. Those crazy turtles are on the news all the time."

"Oh yeah…" Rocksteady replied, feeling a bit nervous. If this guy watched the news, it was possible he might eventually recognize Rocksteady, and the mutant would rather not have to confront that issue right at this moment. Most people he met who realized who he'd been before didn't have the best initial reactions. He crossed his fingers briefly that this guy wouldn't be one of those people, and nodded his head. "Yup, I'm a mutant. I used to be human, still am on the inside, but now I look like dis on da outside."

The barber nodded and then frowned a little. "I guess this might be a little racist, or species-ist or whatever, to ask, but do you know the other mutant that lives around here? The one that looks kind of like a pig with a mohawk?"

Rocksteady grinned and nodded. "Yeah! Dat's Bebop. He's my roomie. We're best buds."

"Ok, nice." The barber replied. He smiled and shrugged with a bit of embarrassment. "Probably shouldn't just assume that two mutants in the same area would know each other or be related just cause their mutants, but I thought I'd seen you two together, so I thought I'd ask."

Rocksteady shook his head and shrugged. "I don't really mind. Lots of humans are curious about us. I don't really like it when they stare at me dough, or if they assume I'm scary just cause of how I look." He shrugged again, "But can't really avoid it."

"Yeah, that's just how it is. You're something to look at, something interesting." The Barber replied, and then frowned slightly. "I'm not sure I caught your name." he said.

Rocksteady blushed at realizing his mistake. "Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Rocksteady." He said, holding out his left hand.

"Interesting name" The barber reached out and shook the mutant's hand. "I'm Lance, the owner of this here fine establishment." He looked over Rocksteady again, and his expression became more businesslike. "Speaking of which, what brings you to my shop on this afternoon. Was there something I could help you with?" He looked at Rocksteady's bare head with scrutiny. "Doesn't look like you need a haircut to me." He added.

Rocksteady felt a bit embarrassed and rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Well, I walk by dis place all the time on my way to work, and I noticed dat you advertised in the window dat you do shaves." He nodded towards the letters painted onto the glass at the front of the shop. "I've nevah had one before at a barber, so I thought it might be interestin to try." He explained.

Lance didn't say anything, but took a few steps closer to the mutant and stared at him. Rocksteady fidgeted with his shirt nervously, waiting for the barber to ask him to leave, to tell him that he couldn't serve "his kind" or something like that. Finally Lance spoke. "Oh yeah, I see. You do have a beard. I didn't really notice before since it kind of blends in."

Rocksteady smiled, feeling relieved. He reached up and ran a hand over his stubbly face. "Yeah, it is kinda hard to see with my skin color, at least till it gets longer. If I want I can go for a few days witout shavin and no one notices unless dey're closer up. But I usually shave every day, out of habit. Just kinda forgot da past few days."

"Yeah, I understand." Lance said, nodding.

"Sometimes it's a pain." Rocksteady said frowning. "Bebop kind of got lucky in dat he mutated into somethin furry. He don't need to shave no more. Would probably look weird if he did. But I still havta."

Lance nodded and then moved back to stand by the middle chair. "So then I guess you better take a seat." He said.

"Really?" asked Rocksteady, his eyes widening in surprise.

Lance nodded. "Yeah. A customer's a customer. If you've got the hair, I'll shave it for you, as long as you can pay of course." He added, smiling. "Sit down, lay back, relax, and I'll take care of you. If you don't mind me saying so, big guy, you definitely look like you could use some stress relief." He said, glancing over Rocksteady's body.

Rocksteady looked down at himself. He still had the bandage on his right arm from where the broken window had gouged him, and the bruises on his hands and face and snout had faded slightly but were still very visible. His right hand was now covered with the brace he'd gotten from the doctor earlier that day. Rocksteady gave a small embarrassed smile and rubbed the back of his head again. "Yeah. I guess so. Definitely had a rough few days."

"Rough?" Lance asked, with a laugh. "Rocksteady, it looks like you lost a fight with a meat grinder or something."

Rocksteady nodded. "Yeah. I got in a fight wit Bebop da night before last. I was being a jerk and not tinkin straight. Mostly just hurt myself." He held up his hand. "Punched a wall really hard. Busted up my hand." He motioned to the bandage on his arm. "Got cut sometin nasty on a piece of glass." He sighed and nodded sadly. "It was a big mess. But we're good now, we made up pretty quick." He smiled to himself. "Da two of us are really tight. Like brudders."

Lance nodded and smiled. "That's really great. Always nice to have a friend like that." He patted the back of the chair with his hand. "So come sit down, put up your feet, and we'll get started. I guarantee you'll have forgotten all that tension when I'm through with you."

Rocksteady approached the middle chair and eyed it a bit suspiciously. He wasn't entirely confident that it could hold him, but Lance didn't look worried, so he swallowed his apprehension and sat down. The red leather covering the cushion and the seat back and armrests was very soft and comfortable. Lance watched Rocksteady as he sat down. His new customer still looked a bit stiff and apprehensive. Right then the barber's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Hey, do you want a beer?" he asked, motioning towards a small mini fridge in the corner behind the last chair. "I got a bunch in there. That could help you relax a bit more. You look a little tense, if you don't mind me saying."

Rocksteady thought about it for a moment. Drinking had been partly to blame for his trouble the night before, but it'd taken several pitchers to get him to that point then. Rocksteady decided that one can probably wouldn't hurt him. "Sure." He said.

Lance turned and crouched in front of the fridge, pulling out a frosty looking blue can and then shutting the door. He popped the tab on the beer and walked back to the chair, handing the can to Rocksteady. It was a brand the mutant had never seen before but it was very cold and Rocksteady quickly took a large swig. It was light and refreshing, and Rocksteady even detected a little hint of lime. "Hey, dis is pretty good." He exclaimed, and then took another swig. "I might buy some of dis brand for myself."

Lance nodded. "Glad you like it." He said as he turned and began rummaging through the cabinet under the sink behind the chair.

Rocksteady looked over his shoulder at the Barber. "Are you gonna have one?" he asked.

Lance laughed and shook his head. "I think you'll want me totally sober when I take the razor to your face. I might have one after."

Rocksteady smiled and nodded, a little embarrassed. "Oh yeah, dat makes sense."

The barber pulled a stack of towels out of the cabinet and set them by the sink. "So I guess you must be Catholic." He commented as he kept working.

Rocksteady looked down at the rosary bracelet on his left wrist. "Yeah, I guess. Haven't really been to church none in years, not really since I was a kid. But I'm gonna start goin to dat place a few blocks away from here soon."

"You mean John the Baptist?" Lance asked. "That's where I go."

Rocksteady looked over his shoulder again and smiled. "Really? Cool. Do ya know Fadder Antony?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure do." Lance replied. He bent over again and pulled out a head rest from the cabinet beneath the sink. "Lean forward a sec." he said to Rocksteady. The mutant complied, and Lance stuck the head rest into the slot on the back of the chair.

With the headrest installed, Rocksteady settled back again. "I just met him yesterday, when I went over dere. He was really nice. I was kinda nervous about being dere, but he tried to make me feel comfortable. We ended up talkin for almost two hours." Rocksteady smiled warmly as he took another gulp of beer. "He helped me wit some stuff I'd been dealing wit."

"That's really good to hear. Yeah, Anthony's a great guy. One of the friendliest priests at St. John's." Lance said smiling. He walked back to the chair and bent over, grabbing the lever attached to the base. He pumped the lever three times, raising the height of the chair slightly, and then unlocked it fully. "Gonna lean you back now." Lance explained. He lowered the chair into a reclining position. "You can put your feet up on the rest there." Lance said, pointing.

Rocksteady, nodded and propped his boots onto the red leather pad at the bottom of the chair. The mutant took another long drink of his beer and then laid his head back against the head rest, letting his body settle into the new reclined position. Lance laid a small white and green striped towel across Rocksteady's right shoulder, and then turned back to the sink. Rocksteady stared up at the ceiling as he heard the sound of running water in the sink behind him.

"So what do you do for work?" Lance asked.

"Construction." Rocksteady replied. "Workin on dat job down at Times Square currently. I actually kinda got promoted just da udder day." He held up his right hand and sighed. "But gotta take some time off cause of dis. Doc says its gotta heal before I can do lifting again."

"Yeah, that's good advice." The barber replied. "But congratulations on your promotion. I probably should have guessed you'd have a job doing something physical like that. I bet you're twice as strong as the regular guys, judging by your size and all."

"Yeah, my strength does come in handy dere." Rocksteady agreed, taking another sip of his beer. The buzz of the alcohol was starting to kick in, making him feel more tired than ever. His eye lids were heavy and he blinked a couple times rapidly to make himself more alert.

"So...if you don't mind me asking, if it's not too personal or whatever, how did you end up as a mutant?" Lance asked tentatively.

Rocksteady felt a sting of nervousness and his heart rate increased slightly. "Um, actually I don't really like talkin about it. It's…kinda private" He replied. "I weren't in a good place back den. Made a lot of mistakes and stuff. Tings are bettah now, and dats what I need ta tink about."

"Ok, that's cool, I understand." The barber replied over his shoulder. "Forget I asked."

Rocksteady let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed again. "Tanks."

The sound of water in the sink ceased and Rocksteady hear the barber wringing something out. After a moment Lance walked to the side of the chair, and the mutant saw that he was holding a small folded orange towel in his hand, which was giving off wisps of steam. "What's dat for?" Rocksteady asked curiously, raising his head slightly to get a better look.

Lance cracked a smile. "It's just a hot towel. It will help open the pores and soften the beard so it will be easier to shave. Like when you just get out of a hot shower."

Rocksteady's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Oh, like in da movies?" He said happily. "Cool, I didn't tink dis place would do sometin fancy like dat."

Lance laughed. "Most shops will use a hot towel, fancy or not. It's just common sense, to make the shave easier." He opened the towel, letting the steam billow out, and stepped behind the chair. "Tell me if it's too hot. I don't want to burn you."

Lance took the ends of the towel in his hands and spread it across Rocksteady's face and neck, being sure not to completely cover his nostrils. He massaged the towel over Rocksteady's face and then gently pressed it into his skin, letting the heat penetrate into the pores and the hair. Rocksteady sighed deeply as he began to feel the tension in his body slowly release. "Feels so good." He mumbled through the towel as he let his head settle heavily against the head rest and closed his eyes. Lance smiled at his customer's reaction and then turned back to the sink to begin making the lather, leaving the towel to sit and soak in.

Rocksteady grew drowsier. His whole body felt like it was about to melt into the chair. The hot towel on his face felt amazingly relaxing and soothing after all the craziness of the past few days. It was incredibly soft and felt almost like warm fluffy marshmallow against his skin. He started drifting deeper into a doze, and opened his eyes wide, trying not to fall asleep.

After about two minutes Lance stepped back into view and removed the towel, tossing it into the sink. He was holding a large greenish blue bowl in one hand and Rocksteady could see a generous amount of white foam over the lip of the bowl as the barber stirred the contents with a shaving brush. Lance pulled the brush out of the bowl; the bristles loaded to the max with thick foam, and began to lather the mutant's face, slowly rotating the brush in circles as he moved up Rocksteady's right cheek, then around his chin and neck, and down the other side. With his finger he scooped up a generous dollop of foam and spread it across Rocksteady's upper lip and carefully behind the fangs that stuck out from the mutant's lower jaw. He continued the lathering process for almost two minutes, really working the brush into Rocksteady's face, whipping the foam into a rich thick layer.

Rocksteady sighed in contentment, closed his eyes again, and felt his grasp on consciousness start to slip once more. The shaving brush felt so good against his face, as it massaged the foam into his whiskers. The lather was warm too and had a very unique smell, eliciting a strong calming effect on Rocksteady as the fragrance drifted into his nostrils. "Smells...pretty nice." Rocksteady said groggily, opening his eyes half-way.

Lance smiled back as he set the bowl and brush down next to the sink. "It's sandalwood. Most of my clients really like it; it's a very masculine scent." He turned back and observed Rocksteady's half lidded eyes, and detected the slightly deeper respiration. "You know it's ok to let yourself fall asleep if you want." he said. "A lot of guys do, especially with the hot towel. I almost take it as a complement; I'm doing my job right if my client can relax that much."

Rocksteady blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. "Nah, I'm alright." he said, but Lance could tell he was fighting a losing battle.

The barber moved to the side of the chair and picked up the almost finished can of beer from Rocksteady's hand, setting it aside on the seat of the farthest chair. "I think I'll put that over there, just in case. Wouldn't want you to spill the rest on yourself or something." Rocksteady nodded in agreement. Lance walked back to the sink and took another towel from the stack, running it under the steaming water. After it was fully saturated, he wrung out the excess water and turned back to his client. He folded the towel into a thick rectangle and then draped it across Rocksteady's eyes and forehead, bringing the ends down to lay against the base of his ears.

Rocksteady exhaled deeply through his nose, as a feeling of contentment spread through his body. The warm cloth felt so soothing against his forehead and especially his swollen left eye, and the way the towel lay against his ears, muffling the sound around him, was somehow infinitely relaxing. He felt Lance gently massage his forehead and eyes through the towel, applying only the lightest pressure on the left side where the skin was bruised. Waves of phantom tingles flowed down the back of his head and the base of his neck, spreading out to his whole body, going from cold to warm. The muscles through his body relaxed and he let himself sink fully into the chair, and finally gave in to the exhaustion.

Lance smiled as his client relaxed, watching his body settle into the chair and hearing his breathing begin to deepen. He reached back to the sink and picked up the straight razor from its place on the counter, and then bent carefully over his client to begin his work.

Rocksteady did not fall completely asleep, but dozed just on the edge between waking and unconsciousness. He was still aware of what was going on, but as if it was happening from afar. He distantly felt the barber tugging back the skin on the right side of his face, and the feel of the straight razor as it glided across his cheek, gathering up the foam and neatly slicing through the hair. The barber gently wiped the foam from the blade on the towel across Rocksteady's shoulder, and then continued his work, moving across the mutant's chin, down his neck, and to the other side of his face, proceeding slowly and taking his time. Rocksteady didn't know what he expected the razor to feel like, but was still a bit surprised. It didn't hurt; all Rocksteady felt from outside his doze was a bit of a prickly sensation as the razor glided along his face and did its work. Lance finished with his lower face and moved on to the upper lip area, carefully shaving under the Rhino's nostrils and behind the teeth that stuck out from his lower jaw. From far away, Rocksteady felt Lance apply another hot towel to his face, and then re-lather him as the barber prepared for the second pass against the grain. The second towel and the new layer of warm foam sent Rocksteady drifting even farther down towards unconsciousness, as his thoughts began to run together. A few minutes later he felt the towel across his eyes being removed, and groggily wondered if the experience was over. But then he heard the sound of water and a few moments later another steaming hot towel was laid on his face, and an additional one across his eyes and forehead again, this time folded wider so that part of the towel draped across his snout, touching the tender bruise behind his front horn. It seemed like this time the towels were heavier against his face; the gentle yet firm weight and muffling warmth soothed the tired mutant like nothing before. The feeling of relaxation and contentment poured over him again and this time he succumbed completely, dropping off to sleep.

An unknown amount of time later, Rocksteady felt himself returning to consciousness as Lance gently nudged his shoulder. "Wha…wazzat?" the rhino mumbled groggily, and then let out a long full yawn before opening his eyes.

Lance stood over him, a friendly smile on his face, holding another towel in his hand. "Sorry, just wanted to let you know that this one will be cold. Didn't want to shock you awake." he said.

"Uh..ok" Rocksteady replied. The barber stepped behind the chair and spread the towel across the mutant's face. Almost immediately Rocksteady felt a cold shiver run through his body, and his consciousness full clarified. Lance wasn't kidding, that towel was COLD, almost as cold as the beer had been, straight out of the refrigerator. It even felt like it had ice crystals in it. But it was also very refreshing and invigorating against his face, and he sighed from the feeling. Lance held the towel on mutant's face for about a minute and then tossed it behind him into the sink. Rocksteady opened his eyes and smiled. "Wow, dat WAS really cold." he exclaimed. "But it felt great."

Lance nodded. "Yeah. I had it in the refrigerator for a while. Really gets it nice and refreshing. Sorry to wake you, but I know most guys would be pretty upset if I just slapped that one on without warning them first. The cold helps close the pores after everything's done, so there will be less irritation." He turned back to a row of bottles lined up along the back of the counter. "Aftershave?" he asked, picking up a clear bottle full of a bright green liquid.

"Sure" Rocksteady replied. The barber nodded and shook out a small dollop of the liquid onto his left palm. He rubbed the moisture between his hands and then gently spread it across Rocksteady's face. The mutant winced slightly at the momentarily sting and tingle of the liquid, but after only three seconds it faded away, leaving behind a very fresh, clean, minty feeling. It smelled great too, and Rocksteady inhaled deeply, taking in the scent and savoring it. Lance smiled at his customer's enjoyment and picked up the green and white towel from Rocksteady's shoulder, folding it in half and fanning it in front of the mutant's face, generating a light breeze that cooled his skin and quickly dried the aftershave.

Lance tossed the towel onto the counter and bent over to grab the lever on the side of the chair. He pulled on the lever and raised the chair back to a sitting position. "All done." he said, handing Rocksteady a small mirror. "How does it feel? Didn't nick you anywhere did I?"

Rocksteady looked at himself in the mirror and ran his hand over his smooth face. "It feels great! I can never get it dat close with my 'lectric razor at home." he exclaimed.

"That's the beauty of a straight. Gives the closest shave you'll ever have, in the right hands of course." Lance said, winking at the mutant. "You ever think about getting a real razor? Most electric ones aren't that great."

Rocksteady shook his head and held up his hands. "I'm kinda clumsy and stuff, and my fingers are really big. Don't tink I could hold a real razor very good. I'd probably just cut myself a lot. The 'lectric one is a lot simpler to use."

"That makes sense." Lance responded, and then smiled. "Guess it will give you an excuse to come back again too."

Rocksteady looked across the room and spotted the clock hanging on the wall. His eyes shot wide in surprise. It was almost 6! "Wow, time really went by fast." he said.

Lance suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. "That's my fault. If I made you late for something I'm sorry. It's just..." He shrugged. "Frankly you looked so exhausted when you sat down, and I could tell you were going to nod off almost right away. I decided I'd just put a couple of hot towels on you and let you sleep for a while before I finished up. You really looked like you needed it."

Rocksteady felt both grateful and a little embarrassed. "Tanks. You really didn't havta. I didn't wanna be any trouble."

Lance smiled and patted the mutant on the shoulder. "It wasn't any trouble. I didn't have any other customers waiting on me and it was close to closing time anyway." He gave Rocksteady a more serious look. "Get a good night's sleep tonight, you hear? It's not healthy to go a long time without it."

Rocksteady nodded. "Yeah. Didn't really get much rest the last coupla days." He stretched his arms and legs like a cat, and then smiled. "But I feel a lot bettah now. I think I'll sleep real good tonight." It was true. Though it hadn't been that long, Rocksteady felt more refreshed and rejuvenated from the nap he'd just had than all the sleep from the previous two days. Though that wasn't really surprising, since the first night had been more of a drunken blackout than real sleep, and last night he'd had restless dreams and his hand had been killing him.

Rocksteady stood up from the chair, stretching his arms again, and then turned to Lance, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "How much do I owe ya?" He asked.

Lance thought for a moment. "Normally a shave is 20 dollars. But since you're a first time customer, I'll give you a little discount as a welcome. 15 bucks." he said.

"Tanks, dat's really nice of ya." Rocksteady replied. He opened the wallet and pulled out a ten and a five. "Here ya go." he said as he handed the money over.

Lance took the money and put it in his pocket. After a moment his eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Hey, do you mind taking a picture with me?" he suddenly asked.

Rocksteady looked a little reluctant. "A pitcher? What for?" he asked.

Lance gestured to the wall across from the chairs, above the line of seats for waiting customers. There were dozens of photographs pinned across the wall. "Me and the other barbers here like to take pictures with some of our regular customers, just to commemorate the memories and everything. We think of our clients as like our extended family." He smiled warmly at the mutant. "I know you aren't a regular yet, but I'd like to take one anyway, if you don't mind. It's not every day I have a real live mutant in my chair. The other guys probably won't believe me unless I can show them proof. Plus, I like you."

Rocksteady furrowed his brow a bit as he thought. He wasn't sure he was comfortable with the idea of his photo being up in a public place where anyone could see it. Even though he was done with crime now, he didn't like to go around advertising himself, in case anyone ever recognized him from before. But on the other hand...it probably wouldn't be that big a deal, and Lance had been extremely friendly and nice and accepting towards him this whole time. Rocksteady nodded his head slightly and smiled. "Ok. It's fine with me."

"Great!" Lance exclaimed. He turned and bent down to the cabinet under the sink again, pulling out a beat up looking Polaroid camera. He walked over to Rocksteady's side, and turned so they both faced the same direction, holding the camera out in front of them as far as he could. "Say cheese." he said. Rocksteady smiled as warmly as possible and held up one hand with two fingers extended in a peace sign, as Lance hit the button, triggering the flash of light as the picture took.

Rocksteady heard the whir of the internal mechanisms in the camera as the picture slid out of the front slot. Lance grabbed the picture and walked over to the counter to return the camera to its former place, and wait for the picture to develop. Rocksteady turned and took a step closer to the far wall as he scanned the many pictures that had been arranged there. He saw many pictures of Lance, posing along with his various customers, as well as the pictures from the other two Barbers who worked in the shop. As his eyes scanned across the faces, his gaze stopped and lingered on one particular picture near the bottom of the collage. It showed a much younger Lance (his hair was completely jet black without a hint of gray) standing behind a teenage boy of about eighteen or nineteen. In his hair and facial features the teen looked very similar to Lance, and Rocksteady deduced that he might be related to the Barber in some way. But there was something else familiar about the young man; Rocksteady had a vague but insistent feeling that he knew him from somewhere.

Lance stepped up beside Rocksteady and attached the now developed photo to the lower right edge of the collage with a thumbtack. "Turned out great. Thanks for letting me take it." he said, and then noticed exactly which of the pictures Rocksteady was staring at. "I see you spotted my son." he stated, pointing to the picture.

"Dat's your kid?" Rocksteady asked.

Lance cracked a grin. "I know I look too young to have a kid, but yeah, that's my son Derrick." The smile dropped away, replaced by a serious expression. "Took that picture almost ten years ago. Only a short time before the incident."

"Did somethin bad happen to him?" Rocksteady asked curiously.

Lance paused for a moment and then nodded sadly. "Yeah. He's totally clean now, but back then he was falling in with the wrong crowd in a big way. Running around partying and drinking every weekend, even getting into drugs and stuff. Ended up owing money to the wrong people and they eventually came to claim it."

Rocksteady felt something tighten in his chest. Somehow he almost knew what the barber was about to say, and it struck a chord of dread and panic into him. It couldn't be! Lance sighed and continued, putting to words what Rocksteady feared. "A bunch of guys from that gang the Purple Dragons cornered Derrick in an alley and beat him within an inch of his life. Broke half the bones in his body, smashed up his knees so bad that he never fully healed right. He's had to walk with crutches ever since then. And no one was ever arrested for it; they all got away scot free. We don't even know who they were."

Rocksteady felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. His heart began to beat faster, and all the tension that had previously melted away suddenly returned to his body in an instant. Lance didn't seem to notice, just continued to look at his son's picture with a slightly angry expression. "It was a real mess." He continued. "I was really screwed up over it too, maybe more than Derrick was. For a long time after I'd pray to God every day that one of those guys would come into my shop and sit in my chair. That he would give me the chance to look into the eyes of the men who nearly killed my son."

Rocksteady swallowed hard. "What wouldya of done if one of dem had come in?" he asked.

"Back then I was so angry everyday that I almost couldn't see straight. If one of those guys had sat down in my chair, and I'd known it was them, I don't know what I'd have done. Maybe I'd have just cut their throat with my razor and accepted the consequences." Lance shook his head sadly, and shrugged. "But now...I don't know. In the end it wouldn't be worth it going to jail over people like that. And you can't hold onto that kind of anger forever. If they did come in I'd probably just ask them "why?". And "how?". How could they do something like that and live with themselves afterwards?" Lance turned and looked at Rocksteady for the first time in a few minutes, his eyes widening in surprise. "Hey, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." he stated with concern.

Rocksteady shook his head and tried to fake a calm smile. "Nah, it's nothing. Guess I was just really feelin you're story for a minute dere." He nodded his head towards the clock above them. "I really got to go now. I'll see ya around." he said, as he quickly turned towards the door.

Lance looked a bit disappointed and still worried. "Oh ok. If you've got to go, then I'll see you. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you'll come back." he said.

"Yeah, maybe" Rocksteady said as he grabbed the handle to the door. "Tanks for the shave." he stated quickly as he pulled the door open and headed out, leaving the somewhat perplexed and confused Barber behind him.

Rocksteady jogged down the sidewalk, his heart beating in his throat, and cold sweat running down his back. It couldn't be, it just couldn't! Was this some kind of joke, or maybe a punishment sent from on high? After weeks of bad dreams and unresolved feelings, after two days of hell and pain and anxiety, Rocksteady woke up that morning feelings like things might finally be back on track for him. And now this! Of all the places in all of New York City he could have gone today, he had to walk into a place and meet a guy with a connection to his past. The past he was trying to forget! It was all just too much.

Rocksteady shuddered as the memories of the incident began to come flooding back to him. He hadn't thought about that night in ages, it'd been ten years ago after all, and that incident was just one of many many crimes he and Bebop had committed in their lives. A crime not much different than any other in the big scheme of things, or at least that's how Rocksteady had viewed it. But obviously that wasn't the case for the victim and his family, not in the slightest. Rocksteady paused for a moment, suddenly feeling woozy. He leaned up against the brick wall to his right, breathing hard, and his stomach gurgled uncomfortably. The kid had been crippled, his dad said. Left walking on crutches for the rest of his life. He and Bebop did that to him! Rocksteady felt tears begin to come to his eyes. The memories flashed through his mind vividly. The boy's unheeded pleas for mercy rang in his ears, accusing him. He remembered how they'd held him down. How they'd kept hitting him even after he fell unconscious. Never letting up with their powerful bone breaking blows. It had been just another job, nothing more. Rocksteady swallowed hard, feeling even sicker than before. Reality hit him all over again like a sledgehammer to the head. This is who he'd been up till now. This is the kind of pain his crimes caused, to who knows how many people.

Rocksteady gritted his teeth and growled under his breath. "Calm down. Get ahold of yourself Rocksteady" he muttered quietly as he took two deep breaths and tried to steady his nerves. "Remember what Splin'er and da Turtles and Antony all said." Rocksteady nodded and his right hand touched the rosary around his wrist. That's right; he shouldn't be conquered by the past. What's done is done. He was a new man now. His life of crime was behind him, he was redeemed. But even those positive thoughts still couldn't do much to blunt the pain in his heart, and remorse and sorrow welled up inside him. Was this ever going to get any easier? Would he have to struggle with this kind of guilt the rest of his life?

Rocksteady shook his head, pushed upright from the wall, and resumed walking down the side-walk at a slower pace than before. Well, at least he'd managed to get out of there before the guy could figure anything out about him. What a disaster that would have been. But of course there was no way he could've figured it out, Rocksteady reminded himself. Lance had said they didn't know who committed the crime, and Rocksteady hadn't been a mutant back then anyway. And he'd never have to see that Barber again if he didn't want to. So everything was cool. The mutant let out a small sigh of relief as he came to a stop at the end of the sidewalk and waited for the "WALK" sign to light up. But at least he should probably tell his friends what happened. He'd promised them he wouldn't keep stuff like this to himself anymore, that's how the disaster two nights ago happened in the first place. So he'd definitely tell them, maybe as soon as he got home. The thought placated Rocksteady for a moment and he smiled, putting his hands in his pockets as he watched the light intently, waiting. But…but…

The sign changed, the word "WALK" illuminated in glowing letters. A group of pedestrians crossed the street and veered a bit sharply to the left around Rocksteady, eyeing the mutant suspiciously. Rocksteady took no notice of them; in fact he took no notice of anything. He suddenly felt rooted in place, like his feet had merged with the pavement. Something was wrong. Something… Rocksteady slowly turned and looked over his shoulder, back the way he'd come. "He…he deserves ta know…" he stated quietly, and knew it was the truth. A part of him balked at the suggestion, shouting objections in his head. "You're crazy! It's too dangerous! The guy might try to kill you!" his instincts protested, but Rocksteady quickly dismissed the complaints. Even if that was true, a guy like Lance would pose no threat to him in a struggle. He wouldn't be in any real danger. That wasn't the issue.

The truth was…he was just plain scared. His heart was pounding against his chest wall like a piston, and his stomach gurgled painfully again. Lance had been so kind to him; treating him like any other normal customer, talking to him like a friend, going out of his way to make Rocksteady feel relaxed and comfortable despite his disheveled and beat up appearance. The barber had treated him like a fellow human being, not a freak, all the while never suspecting that Rocksteady was the cause of such a great pain in his life. How would he have reacted if he'd know the truth? How would he react now? Rocksteady shook his head and smiled humorlessly. If the guy did try to kill him it would almost be a relief. It's pretty much what he deserved.

A memory for the previous morning rose up in his mind. "Self-pity is unproductive and unbecoming. You have made mistakes but what matters most is that you acknowledge them and try to make things right with those you may have hurt." Master Splinter's voice spoke vividly in his mind, and the kind words comforted the mutant slightly. He had to do the right thing; however the other person might react. He had to admit his mistakes and own them. And this wouldn't be the only time. There would likely be others in the future who he would need to reconcile with because of his past. Rocksteady briefly thought of the moment when he and Bebop apologized to Angie's friends, and when they'd met with April and her colleagues at Channel 6, after leaving Shredder. Those encounters had been hard and painful too, but necessary. As this was also necessary. Taking a deep breath, and gathering all his courage, Rocksteady turned around completely and headed back the way he'd come.

The lights were off when Rocksteady reached the shop; the "closed" sign hung prominently in the door. For a moment part of Rocksteady felt relief, maybe he'd dodged this bullet after all. If the guy was gone there wasn't anything he could do for now. But Rocksteady quickly spotted Lance at the back of the shop, putting his coat on, obviously moments away from leaving. Stealing himself and saying a brief silent prayer, Rocksteady wrapped his knuckles gently against the glass.

Lance looked up and spotted him, an expression of curiosity and slight worry coming over his face. He quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door, opening it for Rocksteady to step inside. "Back already? Did you forget something, or do you're whiskers really grow that quickly?" he asked lightly, and then peered at Rocksteady's face as if he really expected that might be the case.

"Nah, nuttin like dat." Rocksteady replied.

"So then what's up?" Lance asked curiously. "No offense but I was about to head out to get my dinner. It's been a long day."

Rocksteady's heart skipped a beat and he felt sweat began to collect behind his ears and run down his neck. He walked past the barber to the wall where the chairs for waiting customers were lined up. He turned around and faced Lance, leaning up against the wall as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets. He tried to look the man in the eyes, but his heart was racing too fast and he awkwardly avoided his gaze instead. "I uh…I got sometin I need to tell ya. It's…it's about what you talked about right before I left."

"Huh?" responded the Barber. He glanced to the side at the collage of pictures on the wall. "You mean about my son?"

Rocksteady nodded. "Yeah. I uh…I know who da guys were dat beat up your kid."

For a moment Lance stared at him uncomprehendingly, and then his eyes lit up the hungry desire of a man who's waited desperately for something his whole life. "You do!?" he nearly shouted, taking a step forward. "But how…how could you…" He stopped, and a strange look began to come over his face as he watched Rocksteady.

The mutant bit his lip nervously and stared downward. "No, what I really mean is…" His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. This was the moment of truth. In his pockets he dug his fingernails into the sides of his legs. Lance's eyes widened in dawning shock and disbelief as he caught on to the truth just as Rocksteady spoke it out-loud. "I…I was one of da guys dat beat up your kid."

The statement hung in the air, definitive and unchallenged. Slowly Lance took a step back, and then another. The back of his knees smacked into the seat of the first Barber chair and he sank down into it, his eyes still wide with shock. "You? You were…but…how could that be!? Derrick didn't mention anything about a mutant being there. So how could you have…?" He stopped, the answer donning in his mind, and he stared back at the mutant in shock.

"I weren't a mutant back den." Rocksteady confirmed. "I was still just a normal guy. Short blonde hair, kinda beefy, and mean lookin."

The barber stared at the mutant, uncomprehending. "No, it just can't be true." He mumbled.

Rocksteady grimaced in pain but pressed forward. "Da kid we attacked was wearin a black and white shirt for some popular rock band; had skulls and lightning bolts all over it. And a dark green cap." He said, volunteering details to prove his story. "And…he had a really nice watch. One of da udder guys took it with him after." He finished, gritting his teeth at the painful admission.

The look on Lance's face began to subtly change, as comprehension of the truth began to dawn on him, but still the man said nothing. Rocksteady took his silence as a need for further explanation and continued. "I told ya before dat I made a lot of mistakes in da past. Well dis is what I meant." He sighed and prepared for the worst. "My friend Bebop and me were both criminals. We only just gave it up pretty recently too. When we was human we ran wit a bunch of different gangs for a few years, including da Purple Dragons." Rocksteady crossed his arms and dug the fingers of his left hand into his bicep nervously. "We did a lot of nasty stuff den, and da ting wit your kid was one."

Rocksteady opened his mouth to continue when he noticed that Lance's hands were shaking and his fingers were digging into the leather arm rests of the chair he sat in. The mutant looked up and felt a brief jolt of fear flash through him as he met the Barber's eyes. "You…you…" the man whispered. He no longer looked confused and disbelieving. There was a fiery burning anger in his eyes and his mouth was twisted in a shocking grimace of rage. "You…you're the one who…you're the one who crippled my Derrick!?" he nearly shouted, suddenly standing up from the chair.

Rocksteady flinched back instinctively, but forced himself to not look away from the man's accusing anger. "Yes, I was a part of it." He replied meekly.

Lance glared at the mutant, barring his teeth, and began to back up around the chair and towards the counter on the far wall, his right hand groping behind him along the surface of the polished wood. Rocksteady felt another jolt of fear hit him as he realized the barber was reaching for his straight razor, sitting folded next to the sink. He instinctively raised his hands, preparing to defend himself if necessary and pressed back against the wall, but still remained where he was. Lance's searching fingers struck the razor and he turned halfway around to grab it. As his hand closed around the folded instrument his eye skirted across the mirror above the counter and he froze, staring at himself reflected back in the smooth glass. His eyes slowly widened in shock and comprehension at what he saw reflected back at him, a portrait of a man caught in a storm of rage. His eyes moved, looking down at the razor clutched in his right hand, and then up at Rocksteady's reflection. Rocksteady looked back, his body trembling slightly, his hands raised defensively; he could see his own terrified expression staring back at him in the mirror, his heart was going a million miles an hour. But he would not run away! He met the barber's eyes reflected back in the mirror, and saw the man's anger slowly begin to bleed away. "You…You're not gonna run?" the barber asked quietly after a moment.

Rocksteady swallowed hard and shook his head. "No. I won't let you hurt me if I can help it, but…I ain't gonna run neither."

Lance's grip on the razor loosened slightly, he glanced down at the counter then up again at the mirror. A confused pained expression came over his face. "Why did you come back?" he finally asked as he turned around to face the mutant, leaving the razor in its place on the counter. "I never could have figured it out on my own. You could have just left and never returned, and I wouldn't have been the wiser."

"Because its da right ting to do." Rocksteady replied and then looked down at his feet guiltily. "For a long time I didn' care much about doin anyting right, and didn' believe I could if I tried. But tings are different now. I'm trying to change and be a bettah person. Me and Bebop both. We're done wit crime and all dat junk." He gritted his teeth in pain. "You were really nice to me before, more dan you had to be. I aint really used to people treatin me like dat. When I realized what I'd done, I couldn't believe it. I…I had to come back. Da least I could do was let you know the truth." He gritted his teeth against the pain in his heart, and tears came to the corner of his eyes. He looked up at Lance's face, staring right into the man's eyes. "I'm really sorry about what I did to your son. Truly. I…"

Anger flared in Lance's eyes again and he took a threatening step towards Rocksteady, cutting off his apology. "Sorry? That's all you got to say to me? Sorry!?" he snarled angrily. "You and those other goons nearly killed my son! You held him down and…" Lance stopped and tears came to his face. "He was begging you to stop. Crying! But you kept on going."

"I know. I know." Rocksteady replied, tears beginning to run down his own face. "I know what we did. I'm sorry."

"You think saying that is good enough to make up for what you did!?" Lance asked harshly.

"No! Of course not!" Rocksteady replied, and the Lance paused, surprised by the answer. "I know I can't evah make up for what I did. I can't go back and change what happened, and I can't heal your son now. I wish I could, more dan anyting." He sniffed and wiped his face with his left fist. "I wish I could change all da bad stuff I did. I wish I'd nevah been a criminal to start wit. It hurts inside everytime I tink of the damage I did all dose years, and all da tings I came close to doin. I have to live wit all dat now."

Lance moved forward and sat back down in the barber's chair across from Rocksteady. All the anger was gone from his face, replaced by simple sorrow. "He was crying. Begging for mercy. Didn't…didn't that mean anything to you?" he asked. "How could that not affect any of you, if you were really human?" He looked at Rocksteady, his eyes desperate. "How could you do it in the first place? How did you live afterwards?"

Rocksteady grimaced feeling the pain of guilt pressing down on him. He shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry. At da time…I really didn't feel bad about it." Lance's eyes widened in shock, and a touch of anger returned, but he remained seated and Rocksteady continued. "I just tought I was doin what I hadta. Bebop and me both ran away from home, we was on the streets fendin for ourselves. We did anything we could for money and shelter. And…" he looked down at his hands, which had caused so much hurt over the years. Angrily he made fists, gritting his teeth against the ache that flared up in his broken hand. "I liked fightin and breakin stuff and causing trouble. I have all my life. It didn't bother me dat I was breaking da law; to me I was just getting back at a world dat I tought rejected me." He shook his head and laughed, cracking a humorless smile. "A lot of good it did anyway. We still got kicked outta every gang we joined. Da Purple Dragons threw us out the very next week."

Lance narrowed his eyes and glared at Rocksteady. "So you had a tough life? You think that's any excuse for what you did?" he asked angrily.

Rocksteady flinched slightly and then shook his head. "No. I know it's not. Being poor and homeless didn't make us criminals. We just didn't try any other path."

Lance's face became hard and stony. "After all that, now you're just some normal guy with a home and a job, like nothing happened?" He suddenly slammed his fist down on the arm rest of the chair, startling the mutant. "You should be in jail for what you did. Or maybe someone should break your kneecaps for you, so you can see how it felt."

Rocksteady nodded sadly in agreement. "You're right. I should be in jail for the rest of my life for all da stuff I've done. It didn't work out dat way, but I couldn't have complained if it did." He gently touched the rosary on his wrist, and thought about the past few days. "My friends and fadder Antony both said dat getting to start over is a gift. Dat I should make da most of it, so dats what I'm tryin to do. And I tink comin here maybe was part of dat." He looked up at Lance hopefully, but the man seemed completely unmoved, and Rocksteady looked back down in shame. "I know you probably hate me, and dat's ok I guess. I understand if you can't evah forgive what I did." He sighed and let his arms fall to his side. "If you want you can hit me, as much as you need to. Or you can cut me wit your razor. I know dat won't make up for it, but it's all I can really offer." He looked into Lance's eyes, feeling all the hurt and guilt and shame boiling in him at once. "I'm really really sorry!" he stated forcefully, with all the sincerity he had.

Lance slowly turned and looked behind him again, at the razor sitting on the counter, and then down at his own hands, like he was possibly contemplating Rocksteady's offer. Rocksteady held his breath, his heart pounding, waiting to see what the man would do. Lance turned back, and this time his face was almost unreadable. Different emotions played across his features, like he was fighting with himself inside. Finally he looked back at Rocksteady directly, and nodded towards the Rosary wrapped around his wrist. "So, is that why things changed for you?" he asked.

Rocksteady looked down at the rosary. "I don't know. I guess, maybe. Dat's what Fadder Antony says, Dat I was being guided all along." He looked back up and shrugged.

"So what would you say made the difference?" Lance asked.

Rocksteady smiled warmly for the first time since the conversation began. "Bebop and me met someone." He replied.

Lance looked at him curiously. "Was it a girl?" he asked.

Rocksteady blushed and shook his head, smiling a bit dopely. "Well, kinda, but dat was later. First we met her brudder, Tyler." A great warmth grew in his heart as memories of the past year flashed through his mind. "Bebop and me had nevah met anyone like him before. He didn' care dat we were criminals or freaks. He treated us just like normal guys, and asked us to hang out wit him, even dough we stole from him da first time we met. He's da first friend me or Bebop evah had besides each other." He smiled wide and happily. "It weren't long before he was da most important ting to da two of us. He was like our little brudder, we'd have done anyting for him." Rocksteady shrugged and looked up wistfully. "So…we just couldn't be bad guys no more. It woulda been too dangerous to stay around him udderwise. And…him and his sister and dere friends helped us see da real cost of what we was doing before. You know, like, da damage we could do, and how udder people saw us." He fidgeted with his hands nervously. "It was da first time I really understood anyting about how I was. It was a real shock." He looked up at Lance and shrugged his shoulders. "But I finally knew what da right ting was, and made my choice. And, now I'm here." He finished, smiling a bit nervously as he watched the other man wearily.

Lance looked like he was thinking deeply. After a moment he stood up from the chair and looked at Rocksteady, and the mutant was surprised to see in his eyes now something that looked a bit like satisfaction. "Thank you for coming back and telling me all this." He said. "It was…a pretty courageous thing to do, when you could have just walked away, and didn't know how I might react." He sighed and shook his head, smiling slightly. "I've waited so long for some kind of justice to be done for my son, but I never expected something like this. Life sure is crazy sometimes." He looked up at Rocksteady again. "Thank you, again."

Rocksteady for a moment didn't know how to respond, then he smiled hugely and felt relief wash over him. "Really!? Uh, no problem. So are you not mad at me no more?" he asked a bit hopefully. "You sure you don't want to hit me or sometin still?"

Lance surprised Rocksteady by laughing slightly, and then shook his head. "Of course part of me is still angry, but I'm not going to do anything to you. Like I said before, I can't let those kind of feelings rule me." He extended his hand towards Rocksteady. "So, for now I think we're ok."

Rocksteady was surprised again, but then stepped forward and took the man's hand, shaking it firmly. "Tanks." He replied.

"Though I could give you another black eye to match the one you got, if you really want me to." Lance added, squeezing Rocksteady's hand.

Rocksteady laughed nervously. "Ugh, I'd rather not, if dat's ok." He replied, and Lance laughed briefly and let his hand go. Rocksteady stepped back and began to turn towards the exit, but then he remembered something else and turned back. "Um…hey…" he began, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "If its ok wit you and him, and it's possible and everyting, I'd like to be able to meet your son again if I could. So I could apologize to him in person. I know Bebop will want to too when I tell him about dis." He said.

Lance thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah, I think that could be arranged sometime." He shrugged and smiled. "Derrick will probably take it better than I did. In fact, he might actually thank you two."

Rocksteady's eyes popped open in shock. "Huh, why would he do dat?!"

"Like I said before, my son was leading a really rough lifestyle back then." Lance replied. "It was almost getting killed that turned him around, at least according to him. So yeah he might actually thank you." Lance took a step back and adjusted his coat, taking one last look around the shop to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He began to turn towards the door and then something occurred to him. "Hey Rocksteady?" he asked, turning back towards the mutant. "Do you have to be anywhere now?"

"Um, no, not really." Rocksteady replied.

"Then…" Lance began, and Rocksteady realized the man was nervous for some reason. The barber cleared his throat and continued. "There's a bar I really like just a few blocks away from here. So…If you're hungry, you want to come grab a couple of beers with me and share a basket of hot wings? And keep talking for a while?"

Rocksteady stared at the man in pure shock. "You want to eat wit me?" he asked.

Lance shrugged. "Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but I'm kinda just going with the flow. I feel like there's still a lot more we could talk about, if you want to. So what do you say?"

Rocksteady thought for a moment and then smiled, nodding. "Yeah, I guess dat sounds cool. But I'll buy." He offered.

"Alright, I'll hold you to that." Lance replied as he turned towards the exit.

Rocksteady turned and followed. "And, we probably should order separate hot wings. I tend to eat a lot." He added, rubbing his stomach and grinning.

Lance laughed. "Yeah, I can believe that." He replied, pushing open the door.

The two men stepped out into the evening air. Side by side they looked like the most mismatched pair you could think of. A stocky Italian barber and a six foot tall hulking humanoid rhinoceros. Two men once opposed without even knowing it, now reconciled. As Rocksteady watched Lance lock the door to his shop, he smiled, feeling overwhelming amazement and gratitude roll over him. It had been hard, but everything had worked out after all. Maybe this would be the start of a real friendship. He couldn't wait to tell Bebop and everyone else what had happened to him today. They weren't going to believe it!

-The End-

-And that's it, I hope everyone enjoyed it. If you've read my main fanfic I think you'll understand a bit why I decided it should be a side story instead of a main chapter. Besides the story not being connected to the main storyline of "Rescue Me", it is also similar to how Rocksteady talked to Splinter and the priest about his issues, and also similar to the situation with Angie's friend Patrick. I was worried that in the context of a larger fanfic it would feel redundant, but I didn't want to totally abandon the story, so that's why it became a stand alone. Also, I will admit, the first half of this story is little more than pure "author appeal" on my part ^^. In real life I love going to the barber every few weeks or so to get a shave, it's one of the most relaxing experiences a guy can have, and I've always wanted to write something in one of my fanfics that would relate to that. Girls have their salons and Spas, and we guys can go to the Barber ^^. If you're a guy reading this and have never gotten a real authentic shave at the Barbershop, I'd highly recommend you try it. I also ended up writing, in both this and my larger fic, that Rocksteady experiences ASMR. If you don't know what that is, look it up on-line because there is now tons of information on it and a thriving ASMR youtube community creating thousands of videos for people who experience it. Rocksteady's is mainly connected with his ears; I remember there was one episode of the cartoon where he told Shredder that a Rhino's ears are very sensitive, and that just stuck with me ^^. I can just imagine Rocksteady one day in the future watching youtube videos for "ear brushing" and "ear massages" as a way to relax himself. So anyway I hope you enjoyed the story, and that it was effective for you. If you haven't read it yet, and are curious as to how Rocksteady got from being Shredder's loyal henchman to putting his criminal life behind him, please read my other related fanfic "Rescue Me" to hear the full story.-