This is my first fic story so little bit of nerves and excitement. This is a one shot of a scene on a story I'm currently working on. Please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome. I don't own anything of TMNT. (Though it would be cool.)
They sat together on the porch swing, relishing the rare silence of the chaotic farmhouse. Their feet gently rocked against the floor as the sun sank into the horizon. He lets out a quiet sigh to release his tension. His eyes looked down at her arm lying beside his. Scars covered the skin on her arm and hand.
Suddenly the want, the urgency to check it crept up inside of him. He didn't want to cross any boundaries with her. The consequences may become too much. What if she became offensive or withdrawn? Or worse, what if she would attack? The heaviness weighed in his stomach. Curiosity became too much for him. He needed to know, to see the scars. Ignoring his better judgment, he gently reached down and picked up her arm. His breath caught in his throat, waiting for a reaction. Yet none came. Slowly he exhaled from his mouth and began to conquer his wondering.
Her jade skin was lighter color compared to his, but had same texture. Slender, delicate yet toned powerful. His eyes wandered over the scars beginning at the knuckles. His thumb brushed across the whitish scabs stretched across them. Thoughts began to roam through his mind. Perhaps she got them from fighting or even training. Further down a slight bump surface. The evidence of a once broken bone. He looked up with questions dancing in his eyes. None asked, none answered. She nodded, smiling slightly. He understood the questions needed to wait.
The search resumed. Some scars looked like scraps. He imagined her missing a step and falling down. Maybe rough housing with her brother. A large scar caught his attention. It ran diagonal from her wrist to halfway up her forearm, three inches wide at least. His mind wondered what could've cause such an accident. Her arm trembled as his finger touched the discolored patch. The reaction told him it was a cruel, intentional reminder of source. She took in a deep breath and nodded, giving him approval to continue. The faint smell of old burnt flesh rushed up his nose. He felt hatred and anger coursed through his veins as his stomach knotted up in pain. Why would someone do that? No longer able to look at it he slowly turned over her arm to continue. Her hand cradled comfortable in his. Fingers caressed over the callous blended in with the softness. Her palm seemed so delicate. He had seen what they were capable of.
His eyes scanned down to her forearm. There laid the closure he needed. The scar was ugly and deformed, running from the inside of her wrist to her elbow. He seemed hypnotized as he began to touch it. Memories began to invade his mind of that night. It started with him and his brothers patrolling the city. Suddenly they were under attack by dozens of Foot soldiers. He remembered Karai launching an attack at his brother. Anxiety crept up in his chest, knowing he couldn't reach his brother in time. Suddenly his brother pushed to safety from the sword's aim as it sliced into his savior's side. He saw the blood puddling at her feet. His legs hurried across the gravel rooftop when sudden pain seared into his shoulder. Blackness settled into his sight. When he awoke, he found himself and her strapped to chairs. Flashbacks of Shredder began to emerge. The phantoms of punches and beating fluttered against his skin. Rustic smell of blood filled his nostrils, threatening to empty his stomach.
He shook his head and glanced down at the porch. He didn't want to remember anymore as everything became overwhelming. Sensing his distressed, she turned his arm over. Her finger found his scar on his forearm, examining its pain. It was similar to hers with the same deformation and ugliness. The sensation of a hot blade slicing his skin suddenly flashed into his mind. How Shredder's laughter echoed as he twitched in pain, struggling to get away. He recalled her mocking Shredder, endless teasing, and defiant behavior to devert his attention. Maybe she knew he wouldn't be able to hold his strength. Her face flashed into his mind as she gritted her teeth, trying to keep the scream from escaping. He smiled inwardly as she determined her tormentor would not receive sactification from her pain. As Shredder retreated for the day, he recalled the precious time of quiet and rest. She encouraged him to talk on different topics to help keep his spirits up. They planned different tactics to escape to cracks about Shredders and the Foot. They reminded each other their importance to their family and the city.
He stared at the sunset once again as he hoped to forget the pain and torment. His eyes met with hers as her fingers interlaced with his. The blue masked turtle laid his head onto her shoulder as silent tears streamed his face. Her arm draped over his shoulders, trying to comfort him from his pain. For once it felt good to release some of his constant burden. Tears continued to flow as she rubbed his shoulders in comfort. She didn't question about his tears or his pain. Neither did he question about hers. There were no teasing or harsh words. The continuing silence between them says it all. She squeezed his hand as they continued to watch the sunset integrate into night. Every scar has a story to tell for anyone who is willing to listen. The one that stained their arms have a tale of their own. The story of unlikely two sides developing a strong alliance against evil and willing support to stay alive. However the most important reminder of the scars is the strong bond of respect and friendship sealing them for life.