"You may enter."
Amelia smoothed the back of her hair down before sliding the door open and stepping inside. Splinter was, just as Donnie had predicted, meditating. He was seated behind a kotatsu, his eyes closed. He raised a hand and gestured for the young girl to take a seat. Mel hesitated but quickly sat on the tatami mat across from him, swallowing the lump that had formed in throat as she waited for him to speak. His eyes opened and he offered her a smile.
"Would you like some tea, Miss Fletcher?"
Amelia eyed the teapot in his hands before shaking her head, "I'm good."
He poured himself a cup and placed the teapot back onto the table. He sipped his tea slowly, his whiskers twitching as he did so. Amelia bit her lower lip as she watched him drink. She clenched and unclenched her fists as he pulled the cup from his lips and set it next to the teapot.
"You look so much like your mother," he said with delight, his head tilting to one side. "I miss her very much."
Eyes downcast, Mel couldn't help but ask, "What...what was she like?"
"She was...a very strong woman."
She tore her gaze away from the numerous nicks on the wooden tabletop and stared into the rats' eyes, a small frown on her face. "No offence, dude, but that ain't exactly explainin' a lot."
His whiskers twitched as he smiled, "No? Well, allow me to explain then. Your mother wasn't afraid to be different. She would constantly take chances, even though it sometimes scared her. And she always admitted when she was afraid. She never held onto pain from past experiences in her life for any other reason than to allow it to be her guide. She enjoyed the company of others, but also liked her time alone, to figure out things on her own."
A reminiscent smile made its' self apparent on the old rats' face, his eyes closing as he spoke about the woman Amelia would never have the chance to meet. Though, due to the way he was describing her...it felt as if she already beginning to know her.
"She knew how to give of herself, and not just when someone had given mentally, or physically to her. She never put others down, and was never afraid to admit her own flaws. She was determined and always went after whatever she wanted...in a respectable way of course," he chuckled. "She was driven by positiveness of what she was certain of, and did not allow herself to be hindered simply of what she may not have known at that present moment."
He opened his eyes and stared deep into the bright green eyes of the girl sitting across from him, "You remind me so much of her."
A small sound of surprise slipped past her lips before she shook her head in disagreement, "I ain't nothin' like her."
"What makes you say that?"
"Cause I ain't strong! I'm...weak," she muttered darkly. "And I'll never be as strong as her."
He shook his head, "Strength does not come over night or a day. It is something that is learned over a long period of time."
Splinter got to his feet and stepped around the kotatsu, making his way over to the oriental painted wardrobe that was situated in the corner of the room. Amelia followed him with her eyes, her curiosity piqued once he pulled out a small shoebox. He sat directly in front of the young girl and placed the box on the ground between them.
"This is your parents' memory box," Splinter said, delicately removing the lid. "Everything they've cherished is in this box."
There were old photos' of her parents, love letters that Yoshi had written to his lovely Elora, a ticket stub to the Tenjin Masuri festival, a miniature stuffed sheep, and a couple of other items that were precious to the couple. Splinter pulled out one of the old photographs and handed it to Amelia. Her eyes widened as she stared at it.
"That's your mother when she herself was a teenager," Splinter said with a hint of amusement. "As you can clearly see, she, too, went through a...rebellious stage."
Amelia nodded her head in agreement. The woman in the photo didn't look anything like the one he had shown her earlier. This woman had short, purple hair, with bangs that covered half her face. Her dark green eyes were surrounded by a thick layer of black eye shadow. She was frowning too, a lit cigarette hanging from her lips.
"So what the hell happened to her?" Mel asked, tearing her eyes away from the photo.
He smiled, "Mr Mortu happened."
"Huh?"
"Mr Mortu," he repeated. "He founded the Guardians."
She gave a silent 'oh' and he continued to speak.
"Mr Mortu was away in England for business, and that's where he met Elora."
"My mother was English?"
"Yes. She was the daughter of Edward and Pricilla Prescott, an extremely wealthy family. She was raised to be a proper young lady, though in her teenage years she became quite troublesome. She was always in trouble with the law in one way or another. As I was saying, on his way home, Mr Mortu heard the disgruntled screams of your mother. He ran to help, but Elora seemed to be handling the situation quite well. He watched her from his place in the shadows, and even though she lacked proper fighting abilities, he could see she had potential for something greater. The men that had confronted her had fled, knowing that they could not win. That is when Mr Mortu made his presence known, and he offered her a chance to become a Guardian. She accepted, of course, and from that day she was trained to be a Guardian. She became one of the greatest warriors ever known, and was chosen by Mortu himself to accompany him wherever he went."
"Whoa," Mel breathed, her eyes widening slightly. She suddenly didn't feel like such a lost cause.
"This belonged to your mother," Splinter smiled, a silver necklace dangling from his fingers. Mel stared at the piece of jewellery in admiration. The light from the candles in the room were reflected off the silver frame, making it twinkle beautifully. The word 'honour' was written in Kenji down the centre. "May I?" Splinter asked, holding the necklace out to her.
Surprise flashed quickly across the young girls' features before being replaced by a gentle smile, which was most uncommon for the rebellious teen. She nodded once and leant forward, allowing Splinter to place the necklace around her neck. Amelia glanced down at the beautiful item now dangling from her neck and lightly brushed her fingertips across the surface, her lips curling into a smile. Splinter watched the teen, her now gentle demeanour coming as quite a shock to the old rat, but it was also quite pleasing.
"Honour," Mel whispered to herself as she clutched the necklace tightly in her palm. It was in that moment that she finally realised what she wanted. What she needed in order to become the person Lizzy would be proud of. "Can ya...I mean, I wanna...do ya think...," Mel stumbled over her words. She was never one to ask for her help. Her stubbornness never allowed it.
Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried again. "Can ya teach me ninjutsu?"
The old rat smiled, "Hai, I will teach you, Miss Fletcher."
The young girls' face brightened, "Really?! Oh dude, that's awesome! So, when do we start kickin' ass?!"
He chuckled at her enthusiasm, "We will start at 6:00 AM sharp. So why not try and get some sleep before we begin."
"But I ain't tired," she raised one shoulder in a shrug.
"Very well," he poured another cup of tea and placed on the table in front of the young girl. "Sit with me and have some tea, and let me tell you a story. A story about how my sons and I have come to be."
Raphael snored loudly as he slept peacefully in his hammock. The digital clock that sat on his bedside table blared that most irritating sound as the numbers switched from 6:44 to 6:45. The snoring ceased as the red clad turtle began to stir. Opening his eyes, he cringed at the irritating sound from his clock. He slipped his three-fingered hand out from beneath his blanket and knocked the clock onto the floor, ceasing the noise immediately but also breaking it in the process.
Oh well, Donnie wouldn't mind fixing it again later.
Throwing his blanket onto the floor, the turtle sat up, his feet touching the floor, and stretched with a yawn. He grabbed his red bandana from the small wooden shelf above his hammock and tied it securely around his eyes. Then came his belt and twin sais.
Now all he needed was a cup of coffee and bowl of cereal and he would be ready to face the day.
He left his bedroom, finding his three siblings already trudging down the stairs. He followed them soundlessly towards the kitchen.
A crash coming from the training room, followed by a string of curses, caught the attention of the four turtles. Michelangelo scuffled closer to Leonardo and hid behind his large frame, causing the blue clad turtle to glance at him momentarily.
"Is it just me, or did that sound like Mel?" Donatello asked, a small smile on his beak as he glanced between his brothers.
"Mel's back?" Mikey questioned excitedly, stepping away from the protection of his big brother and running towards the training room. Once he reached the entrance, he halted and stuck his head around the corner. "Hey, that's not Mel! That's some other chick!" Mikey whined, turning his attention back to his advancing brothers.
"It's not some other chick, Mikey," Donnie smiled, having been the only one to see Mel since her new make-over, as he stuck his head around the corner. The weapon rack was knocked over on its' side, the hooks that used to contain weapons now empty. All weapons sat scattered around Mels' feet, and Donnie couldn't help but chuckle to himself when she cracked a sheepish smile.
"I hardly even recognize her," Leonardo said with slight awe as he absorbed her new look. "What made her change?"
Donnie glanced at Leo and smiled, "She wants to prove to us that she's not a Dragon anymore. She figured changing her appearance would be a good way to start."
Raphael was the only one who hadn't seen Mel since yesterday, and he didn't want to see her now. He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms with a scoff. "I can't believe you're really fallin' for that, Brainiac."
Donnie frowned as he turned his attention to the hot-headed turtle. "You think she's lying?"
"I know she's lyin'," Raph pushed himself from the wall. "This is just another one her tricks ta try and get us to feel sorry for her."
"You're being silly, Raph."
"Am I?" His eyes narrowed. "Care to explain why the shell she was with the Purple Dragons last night? Ya got an answer for that, Don?"
Donnie hesitated momentarily, "No, but-"
"There ain't no 'buts', Donnie!" Raphael spat, cutting his sentence off. "Mel is up ta somethin'. My bet is she's workin' for the Purple Dragons and is plannin' on takin' us out one by one. We gotta stick together on this."
"I dunno, Raph," Mikey spoke nervously, shaking his head. "What if you're wrong?"
"I ain't wrong, Mikey."
Leonardo sighed while rubbing his temple, "Let's say for argument's sake, you are right about this; what do you plan on doing about it?"
"We can't let this chick know we're onto her, so we're gonna have ta keep an eye on her without lettin' her know that we're keepin' an eye on her."
Donnie shook his head side-to-side in disbelief at his brothers' words. Raphael was being ridiculous. Mel wouldn't do this to them...to him. She couldn't. There had to be a logical explanation as to why she was with the Purple Dragons last night. He refused to believe that Mel would go crawling back to a life that was nothing but torment.
"You are welcome to join us, my sons," Splinters' voice rang out from within the training room.
The sudden sound of their fathers' voice startled the four brothers. How did he know they were there? Did he hear what they were saying? Did Mel?
"Oh man, do you think he heard us?" Mikey whispered fearfully.
The brothers shared a look of uncertainty before slowly entering the training room. There they found Mel standing in the centre of the room, her back facing them as she watched Master Splinter, demonstrating in slow motion, a move called the Sword Hand.
"You need to keep your left hand raised – like this, see?" Splinter instructed, moving towards the young girl with his hands raised.
Mel watched the movement of his hands closely before she carefully imitated his stance.
"That's good, Miss Fletcher, but not quite right. Your left hand shoulder should be higher. As if you were expecting an attack. Yes, that's better. Now, keeping your fingers together, take your right hand and chop downward, like this."
Splinter slowly brought his right hand down towards Mels' neck, shifting his body slightly to maintain his balance as he did so, but his feet never leaving the ground. His hand made, barely noticeable, contact with her neck.
"A blow of this kind will stun most any enemy. Also, if you were to strike hard enough, break their collarbone. Now you try."
Splinter held firmly onto the girls' hands as he guided her through the moves, positioning her, cautioning her not to get to close to the enemy lest a counterattack foil her own attack.
"Again," he demanded once Mel had done the same routine numerous times now in slow motion.
Mel did as he asked, only faster this time, her right hand striking through the air. It landed on the old rats' shoulder with great force.
"Careful, Miss Fletcher," Splinter warned. "This is only training. I do not want you to kill me."
Mels' cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she looked down at her sneakers. "Sorry, dude-I mean, Master! I didn't even realize what the hell I was doin' there for a second. For a minute there, I imagined ya were the Shredder and I wanted to kill ya – him. Damn, I dunno what I'm saying."
"It's alright, Miss Fletcher. I understand. Now I should probably point out something everyone who practices the ancient art of Ninjutsu should know. A Ninja warrior must keep their mind concentrated on what they are doing at all times. They cannot – dare not – let their mind wander as you admit yours just did. Such wandering could have dire consequences. Keep your mind focused on the task at hand. On your opponent. On victory."
"I'll try, Master S," Mel nodded once.
Splinter looked behind the young girl at his sons, "You may join us if you wish, my sons. Or you may commence your own training."
"I'd rather watch and see Mel get knocked flat on her ass," Raph spat, glaring at the ground.
Feeling his eyes burn holes into her back, Mel turned around to face him. Raphael finally looked at her and when he did, his breath hitched in his throat. She certainly was different. There was a frown on her surprisingly delicate features. Her emerald coloured eyes seemed to sparkle in the light as they stared at him questioningly. Her glossy black hair was pulled back into a tiny ponytail, a few stray strands stuck to her face due to the sweat rolling down her skin. Raphaels' eyes wandered down her body, taking in her attire. The plain white singlet she wore clung tightly to her body, the front riding up slightly showing off her toned stomach, while her black tracksuit bottoms slid down her left hip. A seductive image of her spread across silk sheets flashed through his mind, making his entire face turn a bright shade of red.
Mel noticed his eyes roam over her body, and there was no mistaking his thoughts, especially once his face turned a vibrant red. Mel smirked to herself, a strange feeling of power washing over her once she realised the effect she had on him at that moment.
"Are you thinking naughty thoughts about me, Raphael?" She teased, a flirtatious tone in her voice.
The turtles' eyes widened, his mouth dropping open before swiftly turning into a sneer. "Don't flatter yourself, princess."
Mel simply smirked in response, irritating him even more, and turned her back on him. "By the way," she started, glancing over her shoulder. "Your voice travels."
"Busted," Mikey whispered fearfully, taking a step back.
Raph rested one hand on the hilt of his sai, directing his attention to his taped-up punching bag in the corner. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about."
"Stupidity doesn't suit ya, Raphie-boy. I heard ya talking 'bout me outside. You don't trust me."
"No, I don't. But ya haven't exactly given me reason to," Raphael crossed his arms.
"I know," Mel said sombrely, turning around to face the four turtles before her. "And I understand the reason for your lack of trust, but I'm hoping that you'll give me a chance to prove myself."
"Mel, you don't have to prove anything to us," Donnie said gently.
"Yeah, I do, Donnie." Mel stepped forward, locking eyes with Raphael. "Listen, Raph...that night on the docks, when I spilled my guts to ya, I meant it. I meant every damn word. All I'm asking for is a chance."
Raphael studied her for a moment. She certainly sounded sincere, but still, he couldn't be sure. What if he was to give her a chance and she messed up? He and his family could suffer dearly.
"Why should I give you a chance?" He asked. His tone held a great deal of scepticism. "How do I know this ain't a trick?"
"You don't," she bit her lip while shifting her gaze to the floor. "I can't make ya give me a chance. I can't make ya trust me. Hell, I can't even make ya like me. But I do know what a pain in the ass I've been. I really do regret my decision to join the Crimson Dragons, but unfortunately there ain't nothing I can do 'bout it now."
Mel placed her hand on the purple cloth wrapped securely around her arm. "And I'll always have this tattoo to remind me of what an idiot I've been. Every time I look at it I'll be reminded of all the crap I've done, all the people I've hurt, my...baby sisters' death." Tears formed in her eyes as she looked back at him.
Raphael felt a lump form in his own throat. He noticed her dampened eyes, little teardrops glistening on the tips of those impossibly long eyelashes and he felt his guilt begin to eat away at him.
"All last night, the only thing I could think about was what ya had said to me. That Lizzy died 'cause of me..."
He felt another pang of guilt.
"You were right. And I wanna thank you."
"Thank me?" Raphael repeated, not sure he heard her correctly.
Mel nodded once, "Yeah. What ya said made me realise what a...horrible person I've been. I thought I knew what was best and I was too stubborn and angry to listen to anyone else. And after Lizzy died, I got worse. I wanted to hurt others before they could hurt me, but that's not the way I wanna live the rest of my life. I'm tired of always having my guard up. I wanna be able to trust you, all of you, and I want you to trust me too." She glanced at the five mutants surrounding her. "So...what do ya say?"
The three turtles turned their attention to Raphael, allowing him to make the decision. He was the one who didn't trust her; he needed to be the one to make the call.
Raph stared at the girl before him, her eyes pleading. He knew that look all too well. He himself had it every time he had asked for his brothers' forgiveness. They had forgiven every time, without question, even though sometimes he knew he didn't deserve it.
He closed his eyes, releasing a sigh before he nodded. "Alright, I'll give ya a chance. But if ya want us ta trust ya, then you're gonna have to tell us everythin'."
Mel smiled, relief washing over her at the thought of receiving a second chance. "I can do that."
