Lessons in Life

by Koriat Cyredanthem

The four turtles find two strange mutants in an alley - and there are more where these two came from. It will take patience and understanding to reconcile the groups' differences. And sometimes, it will take love of a kind the new family members have never seen. Rated M for adult themes and language.

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Bath Time

Raph's POV

This is fricking funny. I kinda feel bad for the guy; clearly he hasn't been treated very well if he's drinking out of a toilet like nothing is new with that. But on the other hand, first the mirror, then this… I'm gonna chuckle for days thinking about this adventure.

Mikey is trying to show Oberon how to drink from a glass. He tries to get his tongue in and lap up water, which means the glass mostly empties onto his chest. I foresee problems in getting him to bathe himself if he can't even drink water from a glass.

"Watch me and do what I do," Mike finally suggests. He refills the glass and tilts it back. Smacking his lips and rubbing his plastron, he looks ridiculous, but apparently the dog-man gets the idea. He copies Mike and even succeeds in getting most of it in his mouth.

"Yum," he mimics my bro. "Mmmm, yummy."

I wish I had a video camera.

"Now, do you want a bath?" Mike asks. He seems to have realized that we'll pretty much be bathing this mutant. I can't decide if I hate that I followed Mike instead of staying with Titania and making Leo help with the dog mutant. I would love to see her in a shower.

Oberon whines but doesn't argue. For some inexplicable reason, ignoring the tub, he lies down on the floor, stretching out. Mike and I stare at him in confusion.

"Bath?" he asks, lifting his head to look at us. He's just as confused.

This might be tricky.

Oberon's POV

I don't like the mirror. It lies. I want a play mate. I haven't had one since Master put down the Schnauzer that bit a John accidentally. He hadn't meant to; he'd been going for Titania and she had just been too quick for him. Egeus won't play with me. He doesn't like me.

After figuring out that these mutants drink like humans, I realize they want me to, too. I do it to make them happy, since they didn't like it when I drank from the bowl. I'm a bad dog but I can't figure out why they haven't told me that yet.

I'm waiting for one of them to begin washing me but they're just standing there. I don't know what to do. Maybe I'm lying wrong? I try turning over.

Mike's POV

Oberon rolls onto his back, presenting his matted stomach and groin. I'm not sure why; Raph and I are speechless and not sure how to fix this. It's pretty clear this mutant hasn't gotten the whole "clean the bits and pits" speech.

I can't really remember that one myself, to be honest. I mean, showering is just something I've done all my life. I don't need to think about it. In fact, I try not to think about showering while I'm showering. I try to think of other things. Or I sing – though Raph calls it "caterwauling." He, of course, is jealous of my artistic talents.

Oberon's big brown eyes are confused and sad and a little wary. I think he thinks we think – did I get that right? – that he is a bad dog. He's not; he's a very good dog. I need to make sure he knows that.

"Good boy," I tell him, stepping forward. Raph lets me do my thing; I don't think he wants to try getting the giant mutant into our bathtub without some plan of action. I take Oberon's hand – his arms are hanging in the air as if he is trying to keep them out of the way – and tug him into a seated position. Then I kneel in front of him; our heads are about level.

"We do it differently," I explain, pointing at the bathtub. Oberon looks over his shoulder and tilts his head, ears perked. That's a good sign; he's interested. It's preferable to the hangdog look, at least. And yes, pun intended. "We use water and soap."

"Like humans?" Oberon asks. I can tell the idea makes him uncomfortable.

"We're not so different from them," I say quietly. Oberon snorts as if I'm joking; I'm not. This is one thing I don't joke about.

Raph's POV

I may be gruff and macho and all that shit Leo doesn't think is healthy in amounts I have, but the incredulity building on Oberon's face makes me sick. He clearly thinks he is lower than a human, that he doesn't deserve to act like one. The toilet bowl thing was funny until I realized that he probably was never given a glass to drink out of before Mikey had shown him how.

I sit next to Mike as my bro struggles to explain why Oberon should shower like a human being. I'm not exactly sure how to explain it, either, mind you. But I gotta try, 'cause this poor mutt needs some serious help.

"Don't you like not itching?" I offer, noticing that Oberon has been itching at one particular spot for a while. I hope he didn't bring in fleas, I think to myself.

Oberon considers the question. I doubt he's ever thought about it, since it's never seemed to be a choice with him. He finally nods.

"Wouldn't you like to not itch all over?" Mike asks, tone bright and cheerful. I can't match his happy-go-lucky style, but I'll try.

"You'll feel good," I offer as Oberon nods hesitantly. This is all it seems to take; he hops up and into the shower. Then he sits down again and Mike and I stand. He stands, too, mimicking us.

"Good boy," Mike murmurs. We've left the door open; I nudge it shut. I don't want Oberon getting out and shaking water all over our equipment and TVs… I have wrestling to watch tonight and I know Don won't want to fix anything when he has new mutant DNA to do his freaky scientific crap on.

I glance at Mike and make a pumping motion with my fist. We play a quick, silent game of rock-paper-scissors. I lose and step into the bathtub behind the dog; he looks over his shoulder, down at me. It's cramped and I grumble under my breath. Immediately, the hangdog look is back and I curse myself mentally.

"It's okay," I say as nicely as I can. It's not a tone I take often. I pretend that he's a human female we've just rescued… or some shit like that.

Mike flashes me a thumbs up and turns on the water. Oberon spins around, nearly knocking us both down, as the cold water spits from the faucet. His whine is loud and annoyingly sad-sounding as the water touches his furred feet; he retreats and my shell scrapes against the far wall as I serve as a turtle bumper car.

"Good boy, it's okay," Mike murmurs. He keeps up a stream of calm, nonsensical talk; Oberon's ear twitch forward and back and he finally steps forward into the growing pool of water. I can breathe again – and, man, does this mutant stink. Up close and personal, his hair in my nostrils, I could see the fleas wandering through his fur. We're going to need Master Splinter's special flea and tick shampoo.

I let Mike know and he nods, still speaking softly and encouragingly to the dog-man. With our coaxing, Oberon kneels awkwardly. At least this way we can reach his shoulders and head easily.

"What a good boy," Mike coos as he uses the detachable shower head to wet down our pal's shoulders. Sewage slush, mud, dirt, leaves, carpet fibers, and mats of fur are already clogging the drain and we're going to need a bigger trashcan before we flood our home. We haven't even started scrubbing.

I wonder if Don and Leo are having as much fun as we are.

Leo's POV

Titania takes a few minutes to fully relax enough to stand up. She shivers again, one final time, and then automatically raises a loosely-clenched fist to wash herself. Don grabs her hand, interrupting the motion again. He smiles when she looks at him, surprised and a little wary.

"Let's get you showered up," he says kindly. Titania shakes her head with a hiss of discontent.

"I said I would wash myself." She seems stuck on the idea. I can hear Mike trying to explain mirrors to Oberon and glance over, but Raph has joined our youngest brother. I'm sure those two can handle the easy-going mutant. Don might need my help with Titania, however. But I also want to check on Splinter.

"I'll be right back," I mutter to Donnie. It'll probably take him a few minutes to convince Titania not to lick herself clean anyway. Don nods once and I head for our master's room. Carefully, I slide the door open and step into Master Splinter's room. His strongest incense is burning and he is kneeling in front of the low table, several candles burning.

I kneel opposite him, taking a moment in the still room to gather my thoughts. "I apologize for bringing a guest into our home without proper warning," I say softly after a few steadying breaths.

Master Splinter opens his eyes. They are kind and warm. "You are forgiven, though I never blamed you. Not intentionally, at least." He smiles slightly. I notice that his nose is still twitching. He doesn't even really like Klunk, but tolerates Mikey's pet; seeing a cat his size had probably really scared him.

"We found them in an alley. The cat mutant is named Titania; the dog is Oberon." Master Splinter nods. "I believe they have been…" I'm not sure how to explain my understanding of the two. Clearly, Titania is the alpha of the pair, unless she acts… out of turn? Unless she attacks? I don't even know. "They mentioned a "Master" that they both know. I think Oberon was… bred… to be a guardian; that's what Titania called him, anyway. She called herself a pleasurer." I'm still not sure what that means, but I have a sinking suspicion that it has to do with her stunning looks. She's definitely not modest.

Master Splinter mulls over this information in silence. "What of their behavior?"

I think about our short trip here. "Titania is very smart. Polite, but reserved. I think it's a defense against anyone getting close to her. Oberon… isn't. He's kind of like Mike, wants to make friends with everyone. He's…" I'm not sure how to say this without insulting our new guest. I shrug a bit. "He speaks simply and takes commands. He likes Titania and follows her around."

"But he did not hesitate to defend me from her." I'm surprised my father noticed in the confusion.

"I… Titania said something after you left. She called him a 'good boy' – I think that's about the best compliment he can understand." Master Splinter frowns, concentrating. "Like she wanted him to stop her. Or like he was supposed to?" It's all so confusing.

Master Splinter sighs quietly. "I sense they are both hurting more than they allow anyone, including themselves, to see, my son. Go see to our guests' comfort. Once they have bathed, eaten, and dressed, I am sure they will be more… receptive." The twitch in Master Splinter's muzzle tells me that he needs a bit of time to calm himself down, too.

"Hai, Sensei." I get up; Master Splinter stops me with a quiet clearing of his throat.

"You did well to bring them to safety, Leonardo, but be wary all the same. Even through indifference and ignorance may harm come to you and your brothers."

I nod in agreement and shut the door behind me. Titania looks over at me, ears pricked. She probably heard the whole thing. Though we have trained our own hearing, a cat's ears are naturally designed to pick up sounds in ways that our ear slits are not. Master Splinter probably knew she could hear us, too.

Don's POV

Leo emerges from Splinter's room just as I've convinced Titania to let me show her to the bathroom. She's convinced that she'll just… lick herself clean. As if that was actually clean and not any sort of danger to her health. I think she believes we expect her to want privacy.

Well, we do, but not just so she can go and kill herself by ingesting the bacteria in that filthy water. Sometimes I hate living in a sewer. I just hope she lets me examine her for cuts and patch up the little spots of blood on the nape of her neck to keep infection out.

Since Mike and Raph have taken the downstairs bathroom, I lead her to the one we tend to use only rarely, on the second floor. It's cleaner, being used less often than the downstairs bathroom, and a little smaller, but she's smaller than Oberon anyway so it shouldn't be an issue.

Even dirty and upset, she cuts a striking figure. I still haven't released her hand even though she hasn't made any move to lick herself again. I like the feeling of her fur in my hand. It's soft, even when slick with sewer sludge, and I hope she lets me examine her dry fur for cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

She follows me into the bathroom; Leo enters after a short pause. He looks at the door and nudges it partially closed. I'm not sure what to expect, either, so I explain the layout to Titania.

"Towels are in here if you need more," I say quietly, opening the linen cupboard. She looks at the pile of soft towels with surprise and – is there envy there? I'm not sure what emotions flash across the cat-woman's face. "Soap, shampoo, and a washcloth are in the shower. The hot water is a little slow, so let it warm up before stepping in." I walk back over to Leo and we get ready to exit.

Titania snorts, sits down on the toilet, and immediately begins licking herself. Again.

"Stop!" I cry, snatching her hand again. Her claws are sharp but my hide protects me. "We just went over this!" I'm a little frustrated, sure; even Mikey wouldn't forget that discussion between two floors of the lair.

Titania draws herself up, her hand slipping from my grasp. She places her hand in her lap, however, looking at me with a glint in her eye. "I shall not be subjected to a water bath," she spits angrily. I glance at Leo, lost. I thought she had agreed to this!

Titania's POV

I am beginning to think these terrapins are less intelligent than they first appeared. Don has continuously insisted that I bathe in water, as though I was not perfectly capable of washing myself. He looks a little lost, though, so I take pity on him.

"I have not bathed in water since my creation bath," I explained patiently. Seeing the lack of comprehension on his face, I try to think of speaking to Oberon. "Remember, when Master created you and brought you forth from your pod? He bathed me in water and then instructed me in my art." I remember my elder sisters teaching me to wash myself, afterwards. The water was unpleasant; their rasping tongues had been more pleasant, but nothing was better than the calming stroke of my own tongue on my own fur. Cleaning new sisters was a duty, but not one I enjoyed.

Hermia still has issues with washing and thus I am often forced to spot-clean her as well. Sometimes Master watches us or has me clean her most intimately in front of a special selection of Johns and guests. Sometimes he orders her to wash me, though I always wash her smell from my fur as soon as possible afterwards.

These two turtles are still clueless. Maybe turtles don't take baths after emerging, I think to myself. The only mutants I have personally conversed with are cats, dogs, a parrot, and a pair of ferret brothers. Those two had been a disaster; they stank daily, left droppings all over the base, never paid attention, and never listened to orders. Oberon had eventually shaken both to death on Master's orders. I had watched, along with my sisters; we learned the price of disobedience in this way.

"We don't… remember being mutated," Don explains quietly.

Ah. I pity him. "I am sorry." I have heard that it can happen – some mental deficiency, leading to imperfect memory forming. Some cases were worse than others. Two guardians before Oberon, there had been a poodle, Lafeu, unable to remember any names; he knew only smells. He called me Spicy. I liked the nickname, but Master had had him put down within a few weeks of his emergence due to his lack of personality. Master likes his pets to be personable with our guests and Johns. Oberon is his best success yet; the dog's happy-go-lucky, eager-to-please nature made him the perfect first face for a guest to see when entering the base.

"We grew up like this," he continues. That is very interesting. I had done some growing outside of the pod, but most of it had been within it, dead to the world. Otherwise, Master had once explained within my excellent hearing range, there were complications with development and instinctual behavior. I had emerged almost fully grown and a "blank slate" upon which to impress an art and duty.

"Does your Master often allow his pets to be removed before achieving full growth?" I ask, curious.

I see the shock in Don's eyes and turn to Leo to see it there, too. "We're… We're not pets," Leo says. Something in his voice breaks and he looks away.

"Guards," I correct myself, smiling. "I apologize."

Don is shaking his head. His hand is still holding mine; he seems to be clutching it now. "What he means is, none of us are pets. Not me, not Leo… Not you."

I raise an eyebrow elegantly. "Does your Master prefer a different term?"

"He calls us his sons," Leo murmurs. My ears and eyes flick to him in surprise.

"He allows such familiarity?" Perhaps this Master wants a daughter, too.

Don's POV

I can hear the honest confusion in Titania's voice and… I don't know what to make of it. I'm confused. I'm sad for her and Oberon. At the same time, I feel this burning rage that her Master had so obviously neglected his duty to her.

Another thought hits me. When we hear "master," we think of ninjutsu. Sensei is as much our father as our leader, as much our confidant and caretaker as our drill master and teacher. Perhaps less of a caretaker these days, with his advancing age and subsequent aches, but the sentiment is there.

I glance at Leo and then back to Titania. I lick my lips, trying to figure out how to ask my next question. "Titania… Who is your Master?"

Her left ear flicks back and then forward again. I think it's a sign of confusion. "He is a human. He made us in order to serve him." I look down, fighting back tears. "We service his guests, entertain his Johns…" My heart breaks a little. "Oberon protects him and keeps us from behaving poorly."

Titania's POV

"There are more of you?" Leo asks. His voice is quiet and there is something under it that makes my fur puff up. My ears drift downwards in submission; I stubbornly force them upright again.

"I am the eldest of the pleasurers," I announce, preening a little. "My sisters are Aemilia, Hermia, and Hippolyta. Our guard is Oberon. I do not know if Master has decided to keep Lysander and Egeus." Those two had not learned their duties as well as the rest of us. I know Master is planning on another Newfoundland mutant, seeing the success he had with Oberon, but the servant position is traditionally filled by a feathered creature of some sort. For my part, I hope he chooses a canary and lets me eat it when it displeases him.

"Are your sisters… like you?"

I sit up a little straighter, haughty. I am eldest. I am best. Why does this terrapin not understand this? "Of course not." I sense him relax. "Aemilia is quite new to the art; she panics sometimes, when pleasuring a group of Johns. And she's a two-way mutant; Russian blue and poodle. I think it made her timid." Not that that is Master's fault, at all, of course. Some pets simply don't come out right, I overheard his scientists explaining to him. I, of course, came out perfectly. Well, so far as they know, anyway. But I don't want to brag and I ignore the tension in Don's hand. "Hippolyta is a Norwegian forest cat; Master claims she is purebred but I have my doubts. She is too thick to be properly pleasing. Hermia is a husky; pleasant enough, I suppose, if all one wants is a quick fuck." I hear Leo gasp and Don seems to be choking on something.

"Does… Your Master… He makes you… Um…" Don is stumbling over his words. I look down at him.

"That is what a pleasurer does," I reply, arching an eyebrow. This terrapin must have brainstorms; they are said to cloud the mind and make the pet unable to think. I never get them. Like I said, I am perfectly bred. Master may even choose to hang my pelt in his room, when I have displeased him for the last time. "What does your base do?" Maybe that will explain these poorly bred mutants.

Don drops my hand and then puts his head in his hands. I can hear him crying, though he tries to suppress it. I look at Leo, confused. Leo's eyes are hard but there is such sadness there that, for a moment, I feel doubt. Am I in the wrong here?

Leo's POV

I can't imagine… I am speechless. Rage, sorrow – there aren't words strong enough to explain what I am feeling. And this poor woman is staring at me as if I have been raped all my life instead of her.

I kneel next to Don quickly, slinging an arm around my brother as his shoulders shake. He's the gentlest of us, but he can't possibly misunderstand what our guest has been blithely telling us. With my other hand, I take Titania's. Her hands are tiny, filled with fragile bones; both are engulfed by my thick fingers.

"We'll save them," I promise quietly, both to her and to Don. He hiccups in agreement.

But then Titania huffs, one ear flicking. "Of course, I meant to bring my sisters when Oberon and I left. He left them behind."

I look up in surprise. "Why were you running?" I ask. Maybe this is the answer to beginning to help her heal. We still haven't convinced her to bathe – in water, not saliva – but it seems unimportant now.

For the first time, Titania looks uncomfortable. She squirms and looks around as if looking for eavesdroppers. "I fear that… I am not as perfect as Master had hoped." She looks into her lap, eyes unfocused. I wait patiently; silence is often a better way to get someone to speak than questions. She finally looks up again, meeting my eyes. There is a challenge there. "It is for my kittens that I left."

I rock back in surprise, glancing automatically to her stomach. I don't even care that her breasts are right there; I'm more stunned that a mutant is fertile.

Don's POV

I hear Titania's announcement and look up in shock. My eyes are still sore and my throat hurts from holding back sobs at the thought of what this beautiful woman and her companions have lived through without even knowing the abuse being done to them. But her words make me forget that.

"You're pregnant?" I ask. She is, of course; she just said so. Her disdainful look at me makes it clear that she won't repeat herself just so I can wrap my head around this whole thing. Still, a fertile mutant… The odds are impossibly huge, yet here she is.

As I'm looking at her, I realize we still haven't managed to get her into a shower. I tramp down my hundreds of questions, each one popping out a litter of its own questions, and clear my throat. Leo removes his arm from around me.

"Well, our first job is to get you cleaned up," I tell Titania. "And I mean in a water bath, not by licking yourself. You'll get sick – that won't help your kittens at all." Appealing to a mother's instinct to protect her babies can be dangerous, but I risk it. Titania puts her ears back, angry again, but I see some waver in her eyes. "We'll make it quick; once most of it is gone, you can wash yourself all you like. But I want to make sure you don't get any infections."

Titania thinks it over for a long moment; I wait, holding my breath. Finally, she nods once, sharply. I can tell she is not pleased but my appeal to her maternal instincts won out where her missing common sense would not.

She looks uncomfortable, however. I think she is starting to grasp how very different our… upbringings… have been. "I… do not know how to wash with water," she admits in a whisper. It's almost as if she can't figure out if she should be embarrassed or not.

Initially, I blush, but after all, this is something a doctor does occasionally. I've washed all of my brothers at one point in our lives. Leo's flu had left him too weak to stand when he was four, and his fever had drenched him and the sheets in night sweats every night. I had been the one to wash him in the tub while our father changed out the old, patchy linens. Raph had knocked himself out on a ledge when we were twelve and bled all over everyone; I had washed him off then, too, though he didn't like to think about my gently scrubbing crusty blood from under his shell where it had pooled. And Mike had needed it when he had come down with a terrible infection; fever and pain pills (stolen from an unlucky but well-stocked drug dealer) had made him practically useless in any basic tasks. And Leo and Raph have both bathed me; when I had broken my leg and couldn't safely get in and out of the high-walled tub and then when I had fallen to a similar flu as Leo but left me shaking with cold so badly I couldn't grip a bar of soap, let alone walk.

"I'll show you," I promise, smiling gently. I want Titania to know that we will protect her, will help her to heal from this abuse she's suffered, even if she doesn't seem to realize that something desperately needs healing.

There's a spark of mischievous amusement in her eyes and I am glad to see it. She stands when I do, though her fur is slicked down with apprehension and her tail will not stop twitching.

"I'll be just outside," Leo murmurs. He leaves the room and closes the door softly behind him.