Listen to: Gifts and Curses- Yellowcard
The nights of New York are never calm and settled. With the lights of the city burning out the stars, the constant sounds of vehicles zooming to their destinations, music from the clubs and porch steps, people interacting in various ways, it was hard to do anything calm and collected.
As the two teens tore through the night, stopping sometimes upon hilltops to just look over their city in all its industrious glory, before tearing off once again, their laughter mixing beautifully in the air. In the muggy darkness of Central Park, he embraced her and for a moment they were just another young couple enjoying a Friday night out.
A few blocks away, another teen stood, his back straight and his face blank. Behind him, his brothers argued quietly. Leonardo was trying to focus on the mission but his mind kept wondering back to Sarina and Raph, then slowly to Karai.
The vast majority of him never really stopped thinking about her. She represented everything he wasn't. She was fun and free and wild and beautiful. Dangerous. Maybe that's why he wanted her so much? So badly? The threat that she wouldn't always be on his side? That she was always changing, never stable? Maybe he thought some where deep down, she would stop and see the bigger picture? That the turtles weren't her enemy, but could become great allies?
The oldest turtle sighed, looking up at the sky. The night was generally quiet and he couldn't find anyway to purge these thoughts as they came to him. He was the oldest and wisest aside from Master Splinter. Why were simple thoughts, simple emotions like loneliness eating at him?
He may have been a highly trained martial artist but he was still a teenage boy. It didn't bother him so much when he was a child because he had his brothers and father. But as he grew, there became a space in him that his brothers and father couldn't fill. A spot that was made for someone softer, someone that he could protect and cherish. Alas, the leader of the turtles was a romantic.
In Karai, he'd been taken by her skills and her beauty. But he was trying to shove her into a place that she didn't fit. She didn't want to be saved and he couldn't make her change her mind. Leonardo was slowly coming to terms with this but it hurt nonetheless.
Leonardo lifted his face to the stars and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as the warm wind brushed softly over his face. He would overcome this. He had too. Deep down, he knew Karai wasn't what he wanted her to be but his persistent hope refused to let the thought bubble up. In the distance, he heard the familiar noise of the store alarm. Instantly, he thanked whatever deity there was up there and called his brothers to follow suit as he flew across the rooftops.
His katana sliced through the air, catching the first Foot ninja and then a second on it's way back down. They fell to the ground and he pushed forward, blades singing as they pierced the air. Graceful, like a dancer of a dangerous art, he tore through the group, steel hitting flesh and metal.
To his right, Donatello swung his Bo with deadly precision, catching three Foot at once, a sickening crack of bone filling the air. The purple-banded turtle was at his best in this moment; emotionless and calculating. Every swing, every strike and dodge was all pre-planned in the Genius' mind as he moved amongst his enemies. Lacking the beauty that Leonardo had in his movements, Donatello made up for it in accuracy. His strikes never missed; his moves always one step ahead. He was like a well-oiled machine, moving against the Foot and Kraang bots. Like they always said, Don does machines. In a way, he was a lot like one.
A few feet away from them, a blur of orange and green spun through the area, sending Kraang bots flying and the Foot to their knees. So unlike his brothers yet so similar, Michelangelo was the most energetic amongst them. He flowed like water, quick and smooth, an innocent smile on his freckled face. The most frightening foe is one who kills with a smile. If Michelangelo was anything in those moments, he was frightening. As fast as lightening, he took out his enemies with ease. Where he lacked in the grandeur of his brothers, the sheer numbers he took out were enough testament to make up for that. Nunchakus blurred in the darkness, wielded masterfully as he spun to bring his foot into the chest of the Kraang droid nearest him.
The three worked well together, but it was the fourth that completed them. And as the Kraang and Foot called in reinforcements, they were beginning to regret letting Raph take the night off.
As if summoned by some kind of angry god, the roar of the Stealth Cycle distracted them all. It was coming down the street right at them, smoke and loose pieces of concrete flying out behind it. As it neared, the driver ducked off, rolling into the fall and quickly getting back on his feet. The bike slid sideways and hurled at the Foot and Kraang, smashing into the large portion of them, sending hunks of metal and limp bodies flying in different directions.
With the dust settled, Raph stood at the entrance of the alley, Sais drawn and gleaming. He'd shed his human clothes and donned his mask again, an excited smile on his face.
"Miss me, boys?" he asked sardonically to his brothers. Leo rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. If Leo excelled in grace, Don in precision and Mikey in agility and energy, then Raph excelled in his dramatics and strength. He always knew how to make entrance.
"That was AWESOME!" Mikey cried, smacking his nunchaku into a Foot soldiers face before throwing his arms up in some weird kind of victory dance. Raphael laughed, his voice rough, before jumping into the fray. One hit from the hot-headed brother sent a good few men flying, his muscles bunching in exertion as he fought. Every part of Raphael's Sais were dangerous, from the hilt that he bashed into their chest, to the sharp metal shaft that sliced through their armor.
In the beginning, when they first came above ground, they would do as little harm as possible. But as they grew older, they realized their enemies didn't have the same values. Not everyone was ruled by honor like they were. Soon, they had to do harm to save their selves and their loved ones. It was a kill or be killed world that descended around them now. Their enemies were becoming serious and so, the turtles were forced into the same seriousness in order to survive.
So the Foot fell at their weapons, along with the Kraang droids and the alien inhabitants inside of them. The four stood triumphant and dark in the alleyway, giving cheers and high-threes. They learned a long time ago that they couldn't dwell on what they had to do. It would eat at them, make them weak. Mikey usually just pretended that they were all robots. That way he didn't have to think of their possible families. But sometimes, the bloodstains just didn't come off.
They didn't linger, grabbing the mutagen canisters and making their way to the rooftops. Raphael quickly stashed the dented Stealth Cycle before following suit. He'd come back for it in a moment. Once safely on the roof, Leo turned to Raph.
"I thought you were spending the evening with Sarina?" He asked, his brow raised. Raph jerked his head back towards the alley.
"I am. She's down there at the park. We heard the gunfire and fightin' all the way ova there. I kinda figured it was you guys so I decided ta drop in," He said, wiping off his sais on random blanket that had been hung up to dry with other clothes on that particular rooftop.
"I hafta get back though. Gotta take her home and all that. I'll be home early tonight," He said, sheathing the weapon before giving Leo a brotherly punch to the arm.
"Don't wait up, Fearless," Raphael said, shooting them a grin before jumping over the side to the fire escape. Donatello shook his head in slight aggravation.
"Everytime I fix that stupid bike, he uses it like child. That's it, he's going to have to learn to fix it himself," the mechanical genius grumbled. Mikey grinned widely.
"It was a pretty wicked entrance though, bro," he said, nudging Donnie in the ribs a few times before they made their way back across the city, causing the stern look to fade a little from the intelligent turtle's face.
WINDSOR ESTATE
Sarina knew the moment she walked into the dark home that she was in trouble. In the main room, her father sat near the fire in a large dark red winged-back chair, a glass of Scotch in his hand. She stood in the doorway, her hair wild from the bike ride, her green eyes worried. The bruise on the side of her face had darkened significantly.
Vincent knew she was there without having to see her. Just like Jake, he painted a handsome portrait of a man in his late 30's. His straight black hair tousled perfectly against his olive skin, his jaw line cut and high cheekbones that accented his odd, light amber eyes. The small, clean cut patch of facial hair on his chin made him look like a man you didn't really want to get entangled with.
Where her mother was light and beautiful in an airy way, Vincent was dark and dangerous, dashing and intelligent to a frightening degree. That's how he managed to climb his way up the political ladder.
He was slightly slid down in the chair, his suit jacket gone, his tie loosened. With a sigh, he lifted his eyes from the fire to his "daughter". His brow creased deeply when he saw her. She looked like she'd been through hell and back. Had she been attacked?
"What happened to your face, Sarina?" he asked, his voice soft and low, his Spanish accent barely there, his eyes never leaving her face. She fidgeted and stayed silent. If she answered honestly, he would know she'd been the one responsible for Jake being knocked out and that she'd ran off with what appeared to be some punk from the bad side of town. If she lied to him...well, Vincent always knew when she was lying.
"Was it Jacob?" He asked, his voice still low and smooth as he watched her. With a stiff neck, she nodded slowly, not really surprised by his guess.
Vincent sighed and turned his head back to the fire. He rotated his shot glass slowly.
"Well, he got what he gave. According to him, you had a street hood attack him. Either way, it was more than a little entertaining to see Mark's son blubber like a baby to his father. Unfortunately, I'm going to need to know about this boy that disappeared when you did," Vincent said, standing up from his chair. The man was tall with a lean-muscled build, a regal air about him. He turned to face her straight on, his eyes boring holes into her. Sarina blanched.
"He's...no one. Just a kid from school. He saw Jake hit me after I broke up with him. I g-guess he was trying to do the right thing. He left afterward...I was scared so I took off," she replied quietly. She wasn't afraid to admit it; she was intimidated. Her father intimidated everyone by just being in the room. But she couldn't tell him the truth...
"Liar. Tell me the truth. Now."
...or maybe she could.
"Alright. He's a mutated teenage turtle-man thing who studies ninjitsu with his three brothers and rat father," she blurted, her face going red. Vincent simply raised an eyebrow. Silenced ensued.
"Fine, lie to me. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you make sure you never see him again. You don't like Jake? Fine, we'll find you another interest. But I will NOT have my daughter being seen with some delinquent from the Bronx!" His voice rose in tone as he spoke.
To punctuate his sentence, he smashed the scotch glass on the floor, shards and ice scattering across the floor as Sarina jumped. She hated when her father got angry. Suddenly, he was in front of her, gripping her face and forcing her to look up at him, his thumb digging into her bruise. Pain exploded across the side of her face as she forced herself not to squirm out of his grasp.
"You are a Windsor, not some common street girl. You will act the part, breathe the part, be the part of the perfect daughter. Do you hear me? No more running off with random men. In fact, I think we'll keep Jacob around. He seems like he'd be able to keep you in line. Now, go to bed," he said, shoving her back. The girl stumbled, pain and fear and sadness at the complete helplessness of her situation eating at her. But instead, she let that all too familiar ice take over. At least, if nothing else, she could control herself in times like these. Features falling into place, she straightened, eyes cold as they looked at Vincent.
"Yes, father," she replied robotically before turning and making her way up the stairs.
"Atta, girl," he remarked, moving back to his seat by the fire.
When Sarina got to her room, Raphael was already there, waiting on the balcony as he had every night. Sarina didn't say anything as she shut and locked the door behind her before swiftly making her way into his arms. She didn't try to explain. She just stayed there, in his warm embrace, trying to forget everything that was going on in her world.