She Don't Want the World

A With One Headlight Universe Fan Novel

By Madelyn Gale

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 for Full Disclaimer. The song "Here Without You" by Three Doors Down is used without permission.

Warnings: Adult Content, Adult Language - I'm rating this "T" but reserve the right to mark it "M" later, if it turns out dark enough to merit it.


Chapter 2 - " Where Secrets Lie in the Border Fires"


The key to teaching well lies in the ability of the teacher to make lessons look like play. From the time his children were babies, they'd played "catch me if you can," first through their small home, then through the labyrinth of darkness that protected them from the outside world. These days the open skies were their playground. Their goal was simple - get from one place to another, going under, over, or through any obstacles in their way without wasting precious time. As children, the four young ones had fun trying to outwit each other to reach the end.

Now that they were nearly grown, the fun of following their father through the pathways and skyways of New York, which didn't seem to exist to anyone else, was enhanced by martial training. At times, their leader would turn on them, sometimes one-on-one, sometimes taking all four of them at once, forcing them to shift their thinking from motion to battle, and just as swiftly would break off his attack to turn them a different direction.

The full moon rising behind them kept them from being entirely shrouded, as did the simple glow of the City itself. That was also part of the fun - darting from shadow to shadow, remaining unseen in a world where they would stand out like the glow of the sun in the middle of the night if they were ever caught. From construction sites to hollowed-out hovels, they darted and weaved, unseen by the local watch, random police officers, squatters making their homes in condemned buildings. Their father lead them on a chase that was a spiral, turning in on itself and leading somewhere special. Tonight was an anniversary that they never neglected, though the fire of the night-run prevented it from being the mournful memorial it might otherwise be.

Perhaps he should have cautioned them to silence. Their movements were so fluid, so perfect, that he should have reprimanded his youngest son when the boy let out a howl of laughter as he flew from the rooftop, overtaking his father and darting past. Yet, he did not. Instead, he let out a war-cry of his own, giving chase after the boy, who was all laughter and joy. Behind him, the other three also called out their frenzied joy at the run.

If below them startled humans looked around, unable to spot the source of the noise, well, it was their own fault for not being more attentive. The five of them only came this far once a year, for memory, to make peace with the past, to preserve the memory and dignity of one lost too soon. Their father would rather it be a time of happiness, to share the joys of the year gone, to look forward to the simple pleasures of the year to come, and if that meant letting the boys be a little loud, a little exuberant, well, it was a more fitting gift to her memory than a somber procession in silence, weighted with grief.

Tang Shen would have wanted them happy. And for seventeen years, Hamato Splinter had tried to live up to her expectations.


O'Brian's was hopping, even for a Friday night. When you live on a college campus, and your home team kicked serious ass on the football field, everybody lit up, even people who weren't crazy about sports like Irma and April. Oyuki kept up with the scores but didn't bother going to the games. That was okay; everybody danced around and laughed like they all knew what was going on even if they didn't.

Three different guys hit on April over the course of the evening. For the first time in about a year she let herself flirt back. It was all fun teasing, of course. She wasn't interested in hooking up with anyone, even if her friends had been willing to let her do such a thing. That didn't matter – the flirting felt good, and she had a lot of fun dancing with everybody willing to have a go at the dance floor.

Irma, as the designated driver, was living it up with free soda all night. Oyuki wasn't inclined to get drunk, even if she wasn't the one driving. She'd didn't trust herself drunk, and she certainly didn't trust anyone around her if she was drunk. The pair of them also kept April's drinking to a minimum – "You don't want to go see your dad tomorrow with a hangover, do you?" Irma pointed out.

Having no argument for that, April nursed about a Cosmo an hour, getting pleasantly buzzed without getting smashed. After a rather energetic dance with a white guy who'd dyed his almost-buzz-cut blue, April flopped down in the corner booth where Yu and Irma were chatting, her face red and sweaty. "Whew! I don't think I've danced that much in my life!" She grabbed a napkin and wiped her face down, then fanned herself with it. "Cool group they've got. But I don't think I've ever heard of them."

"They're some new group," Yu said, sipping her margarita. "I think this is just a warm-up act, though. There was supposed to be something about heavy-metal bagpipes later."

"Bagpipes?" April couldn't suppress a giggle. "Can that even work?"

"Don't knock it," Irma said, jabbing a finger at her friend. "You take half of what's out there and it comes from either Celtic or British music, or some other native stuff. Rock, pop, metal, it's all the same. All comes from the same source."

"Nothing new under the sun, huh, Irma?" April polished off her Cosmo and looked at it longingly. "Any chance you guys would let me get another?"

Yu's cheerful "Nope!" deflated any hope of taking her buzz up a level. "We should get your butt tucked in bed somewhere, anyway. You got everything you need for the night? Change of clothes, class assignments, laptop, your meds…"

April gave Irma a sidelong look. "Who designated her my mother?"

"I think she's drunk and trying to hide it. Are you drunk, Yu?"

Oyuki snorted. "No. I'm just worried about April. I don't like the idea of dumping you at some hotel."

"Better than her staying on campus, where the good Doctor can find her."

"Yeah, but how long are we going to be able to keep her in a hotel? They get damned expensive after a while."

April waved to get their attention. When that didn't work, she shoved two fingers in her mouth and blew a shrill whistle that attracted the attention of half the bar. "Guys, chill! I thought I told you, I have a place to stay!"

Both girls blinked at her, depriving her of the fantasy that she'd already told them her plans for the evening. "Remember the junk shop my daddy used to run? Our apartment was upstairs. I always stop by on the weekends after I see Daddy to make sure the place is still clean, no squatters, and the guy who runs the shop hasn't screwed up the till. I'd been thinking about moving back there ever since he had the stroke anyway, getting it up to code so he can move back in, but it just cost too much to make the changes, and anyway, Baxter didn't want to leave the campus."

"Duh!" Yu wadded up a paper straw cover into a tiny ball and tossed it at April's head. "You really thought he'd move in with you?"

"Well, come on, it's got two apartments, plus the basement. We could say he was renting one from me –"

"And meanwhile you both get nailed for inappropriate behavior or whatever they nail you for when you sleep with your profs," Irma put in dryly.

"I only had him one semester! We didn't start seeing each other until after I wasn't his student anymore!"

"April, sweetie," Irma said, "this might be hard for you to understand since you're probably riding a buzz straight up, but nobody gives a crap. He'd be in hot water for banging the student body whether your body had been in his classroom before or not. It's called professional ethics." She pushed her glasses up her nose, not looking as amused as she had a moment ago. "And speaking of ethics, you better start acquiring some of your own. Hear me out."

She raised a hand to forestall April's interruption. Yu sat back in the seat, arms folded, in apparent agreement with what Irma was saying from the grim line her mouth made. "You're not in high school anymore, Red. This isn't like it was when we were sixteen and could slip love-notes to the teacher and all we'd get is a laugh and a talking to."

"And what is it with you and older guys anyway?" Oyuki asked.

Irma kept right on going. "You thought Chet was going to be the love of your life and he ended up hurting you. Some guys are assholes. That doesn't mean you jump into bed with the first person who looks nice and brings you flowers. You rebounded so fast I thought you were going to get whiplash."

April folded her arms and glared at the pair of them. "You done lecturing me?"

"I am. Yu?"

"No." Yu leaned forward. "You moved in with a guy you barely knew because he was sweet to you for a little while, and then you found out he was a pretty scary fuck. You and Chet were growing apart back before we even graduated, but you didn't even notice until we got to college. I like romance, too, April, but you keep pinning your hopes and dreams on some Romeo coming to rescue you, and you're not paying attention to reality. Right now, you're a magnet for anyone who wants to use you because you're letting yourself be used."

She sank back into the vinyl seat cushion. "If you want a guy in your life, fine, but want him because you want him, not because you think somehow everything's going to be easier if you've got a boyfriend to take care of you. If you want my advice –"

"Not really."

"Shove it. You're getting it anyway. Stop dating. Just for a while. Get your life together. Go find yourself a hobby you like, set up the apartment the way you want it, go see your dad more often. Get a dog. Get a cat. Get a life. Then get a boyfriend. You'll be happier."

She shouldn't be angry at them. They were trying to help, even though their words were bitter to swallow. But April got defensive anyway. "You know how hard it is being the only one taking care of your dad while your mom and sister are hiding out in California? Like it was the only place far enough away from this mess they could get to?" Maybe she shouldn't have drunk so much. She wasn't plastered, but her inhibitions were lowered enough that yelling at them seemed like the thing to do. "All this stuff got piled on me, not anybody else. All I'm looking for is someone to help me out! Be there for me! Not just go off and do their own thing."

"What you're looking for," Irma said gently, "is a family. You've got that, April. Yu and I are here, and we're not going anywhere. You couldn't get rid of us with a crow bar. Random guys who want to shack up with you aren't going to be there for you when you really need them? How often was Baxter there, huh? Or Chet?"

She didn't respond, just sunk lower in her seat and sulked.

"But you asked us for help and we came running, right? Stop looking for some guy to be the answer to all your problems. It's not going to happen. You have to start trusting us."

"The last time I trusted someone to help me with Daddy, Momma contributed the divorce papers and took off with Robyn."

"Yeah," Oyuki said, "your mother sucks. She abandoned you guys. That doesn't mean everybody else will. And it doesn't mean the rest of us don't care. Oh jeez, it's already after eleven."

April glanced at her watch and scowled: 11:22. "We're going to have to pack it in. I need sleep before I go see Daddy tomorrow."

"Yeah, well, I rented a unit and got all your big stuff in storage, you're welcome," Irma said, paying the tab and throwing down a decent tip. The wait staff here was always awesome. "You left your overnight and weekend stuff in my car, right?"

"Yeah. I just shoved everything in the backpack."

Yu got up and stretched, excusing herself to the ladies room while Irma and April headed to the car. "Yu means well," Irma said. "She just never learned how to say something nicely. What she was getting at – what we're both getting at – is we love you, Red." She popped the door open for April, but the red-haired woman stopped and leaned heavily against the car. "You're not feeling sick, are you, Red?"

"I'm just so damn tired," April whispered. "I'm tired of feeling like everything I do is the wrong thing. I can't even pick a decent guy."

"Hey, look who you're talking to! I'm a third-generation Shadchen and I can't even hook myself up with anyone, never mind match-making for anybody else." She patted her friend's shoulder, the pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Don't worry, Red. We're here for you."

"You ladies ready to head out?" Yu called from across the parking lot. Typically she got shotgun, but since April was already there, she graciously took the back seat. "Hey," Yu said, buckling up, "Baxter doesn't know where the junk shop is, right?"

April said, "No. He never came to see Daddy with me, so he never saw the shop, and I don't think he cared enough for me to tell him where it is. He knows it's north. That's about it."

"Good. I don't want that low-life sneaking out to serenade you or throw you roses or something to win you back and you go all female on us about it."

"Yu, did anyone ever tell you you're a bitch when you drink?"

Yu counted on her fingers, "My mom, you, Irma, two ex-boyfriends, Irma's aunt Imogene -"

"We'll take that as a yes," Irma said, backing out of the parking lot. "You'll have to give me directions. I've never been there before, either."

"That's cool. I'm a living GPS, remember? But we won't be able to park near the shop. The streets are too narrow, and a large part of the neighborhood was burned out years ago. We'll park a block down from it and then walk. Any chance either of you brought a flash light?"

Yu snickered. "Red, that's what cell phone apps are for, remember?"


Three of them stood in the O'Brian's parking lot. Two men and a woman. They were about as non-descript as they could get. A red hoodie and black shorts on the woman with a white T-shirt underneath; both men wore jeans and T-shirts, one a solid blue, grungy, the other declaring, "Sarcasm: Because Beating the Crap Out of People is Illegal."

They didn't look their ages, either. A few strokes of makeup and the woman looked like a girl in her early twenties, instead of a toned woman of forty. One guy had a shaved head, made him look tough but slightly dumb. The other had a rounded baby face with Asian features. In a pinch, he could pass for white, for Native American, for someone with Down's Syndrome. He'd done all three before.

They didn't look like anything. They could be anybody. That was part of the plan. Looks were one reason their boss hired them. Being smart enough to kill people without getting caught had also been on the requirements' list.

They stood by their car, talking about weather, and sports, and anything that wasn't about killing people, because they didn't talk shop when they weren't working.

It was almost eleven-thirty when three girls came out of the pub. First girl, no question at all about this one. Bright blue knee-length skirt on top of a bright orange ankle-length one, dark blue tights under them, wrist-length white blouse with an orange vest, and some weird hair covering that wasn't a scarf. Her picture had her in tie-dye jeans and a fringe blouse of many colors going down to her waist. Even without seeing her face, they had her.

Second girl, Asian, with long hair tied up in pigtails. Jeans, T-shirt, the usual. Snub-nose, that was the only guarantee they had the right girl. In the photograph, her hair had been shorter.

Third one, a red-head, five-foot-five, with green eyes and freckles that didn't quite go away with age. She was even wearing the same Transformers T-shirt she had on in the photo Baxter sent them.

"Do 'em now?" the woman asked. "Three shots, pop-pop-pop and we're done."

The bald guy shook his head. "Guns are messy. You hit a stray target, the boss will find out about it. Then he'll want to know why we were killing the girls in the first place. Then he'll kill us." Baldy was a pessimist. He preferred the term "realist," but the woman didn't buy it.

"Anyway," the Asian guy put in, "the parking lot's too full. Too many witnesses. Too many cameras."

She wasn't going to win this argument, but tried anyway. "No cameras out here. That's why we parked here. Nobody will see anything."

The Asian guy said, "We're across the street from a bank and a couple of other stores. Our car got caught on some kind of camera somewhere. You know police techs. They'll figure out where and when and link us to the bullets."

The lady gave up. "What, then?"

"I'm working on it," Baldy said, getting in the car. The others got in, too, frustrated that they didn't have a plan for this. Usually shit like this didn't happen, and when it did, they had time to think it out.

"Still, better that we do it than sending some of the gang," the Asian guy said. They all agreed on that one. If they'd left it to some of the gang, this whole parking lot would be a bloodbath, and their boss would connect them to it, and want to know why they'd ordered a hit way outside their territory. He'd find out about the laptop. Their boss found out about everything. He didn't use very nice methods to find things out, either.

And then he'd do some not-nice things to the three of them before killing them.

They drove in silence, following the beat up Chevy... "What kind of car is that?" the woman asked.

Baldy squinted. "Beats me. Looks like a franken-car. Shove some shit together, stick a motor in it, and go."

"A car like that would be easy to recognize," she said. "Thought of something yet?"

"Couple of things. We're heading into Dragon territory. Get behind 'em, follow 'em when they stop, a couple of cuts, then dump 'em in the center of the Dragon's den. Get the laptop but hide the rest of their shit where the Dragons usually dump their stuff. Make it look like the P.D.'s did it. Takes it off of us, puts it on them. Boss won't figure we'd go into P.D. territory without permission."

The Asian guy said, "So what do we do, grab them when they get out of the car? We have to move fast."

"No," the woman said. "We have to move efficiently, not fast. Fast is gang stupid. Fast gets you in trouble. You leave something behind, then the cops can trace you and nail you to the wall."

None of them were afraid of the cops. They were all very afraid of their boss, though. And what he would do to them.

The Asian guy spoke up. "I say we wait until they get where they're going and then scout the place. Come up with something on the fly."

Baldy said, "You think that's going to work? Think we can pull it off?"

"How long have we done this?" the woman asked. "We've done more with less. Keep going. We'll know what to do when the time comes."


The burned-out buildings hadn't been torn down yet, though there was always some kind of construction work going on nearby. Bureaucracy held up the re-development of the fire-ravaged buildings. Most of them had been small shops, a few tenements, none of them large buildings. Squatters were a problem on this side of the burn-out. The five moved silently through the shadows to the remains of the tenement they were looking for. Officially, Tang Shen had lived in a studio apartment on the third floor, but back then hardly anyone paid her any mind. Her real home - their real home - had been the basement.

A hundred days have made me older

Since the last time that I saw your pretty face

A thousand lies have made me colder

And I don't think I can look at this the same

But all the miles that separate

Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face

The first few years, they brought flowers. Lately, they hadn't needed to. Her memory didn't require gifts to put the past to rest anymore. Whatever little bits of furniture hadn't been destroyed in the fire was long gone, stolen by vagrants passing through, or destroyed for fire-wood. That was all right. They didn't need such reminders, either. They had two photographs, one of Shen on her wedding day, one from some time after they arrived in America. They had their father's memories of the early days. They even had the fire, and how they lost her, though time and distance had taken the sting of it from Splinter's soul.

Everything I know, and anywhere I go

It gets hard but it won't take away my love

And when the last one falls

When it's all said and done

It gets hard but it won't take away my love

They lit incense and cleaned out the refuse that collected over the year. Maybe March was too early for Obon, but they celebrated anyway, as best they could, with their limited resources. There were stories. Splinter always told them stories. His early life; how he'd received training; meeting Shen; coming to America, and then the fire.

They listened, enraptured, though at least his second-youngest insisted on feigning disinterest. There were questions. A life such as theirs would prompt questions.

"Do you ever wonder why everything happened the way it did?" his eldest asked.

"I do, but don't dwell on the question. Answers are rare in this life. But I trust - I know - that everything happens for a reason. That is enough to give us peace of mind." He stood up, leading the four out of the cellar, and turned his eyes to the sky. "It is nearly midnight," he said quietly. The full moon had long since set. They would take candles to the East River, perfectly hidden, and float them down river as they released Shen's spirit back to the Other World. They each turned one last time, to say goodbye to what had been her grave. The fire had taken so much of her that there was hardly anything left to cremate. The tiny portion recovered from the scene was buried in a small, unmarked grave. Splinter had gone there once, on his own, but felt nothing. Here, with his sons, he could feel her close.

I'm here without you baby

But you're still on my lonely mind

I think about you baby

And I dream about you all the time

I'm here without you baby

But you're still with me in my dreams

And tonight girl its only you and me


"Maybe we should park closer," Irma murmured.

April sighed. "There's no space. That's the bad part. But the neighborhood's fairly decent."

"Fairly decent," Yu said, "doesn't mean there won't be trouble." She lit the camera light on her phone using the flashlight app, and grabbed April's backpack from beside her in the back seat. "Stick together."

"Yeah," April agreed. The three of them exited together, Oyuki passing the bag to April. "It's only two blocks over."

"Two blocks is two blocks." Irma shivered, even though it wasn't cold.


"Well this is interesting," the woman in the car said. "Kill the lights." Baldy doused the headlights. The car slipped below five miles an hour.

The woman drew a Beretta, silencer already screwed on, from under her hoodie. "See," she said. "What did I tell you? We'd know what to do when the time came. Park there." She gestured to the side of the road.

Baldy parked. The Asian guy had a short knife. Baldy stuck with a six-shooter. No silencer, but what the hell. Nobody around here was going to hear them anyway. "Okay," he said, cutting the engine, "let's do the work and go home."


The youngest boy touched his arm, a quiet gesture. "Father," the boy asked, "you really think there's a reason for everything?"

"Yes." He wrapped an arm around his child's shoulders in a light hug. "I have only to look upon your faces to know that everything that has come to pass was meant to be."

The child nodded and headed out into the world, but Splinter couldn't resist one last look behind him, his heavy for a moment with memory. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and tore himself from memory.

The five stayed in shadow, watching a car drive past and turn down a nearby alley. Not unusual; the streets here were narrow, the few buildings that escaped the conflagration had few parking spaces. A second turned down the same street, then slowed, well below the speed limit. The headlights went out, the vehicle driving dark.

Splinter's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong, very wrong. Though this was supposed to be a peaceful outing to remember the dead, none of them were foolish enough to travel unarmed. He drew his ninjaken, his sons following suit.

"Father?"

"I don't know," he whispered, "but be ready for anything, " and lead them deeper into the shadows.