After searching for a whole week, all Donnie had found on "The Dream Sequence" was an old children's book from the early eighteen thirties. It was about a queen being able to manipulate dreams, and in light of the circumstances, it made Donnie uneasy.
According to Emily, Casey had collapsed after being touched by a little girl, who was in Emily's room doing God knows what. Plus, that dream he had about another little girl (were they the same?) didn't seem like it had come form his subconscious.
What was worse, however, was that Donnie felt Emily was in the middle of all this. He didn't know how, but he was going to find out.
After hanging up the phone he went to find Leo. He wanted to go to Casey's right away, if not to see for himself that Casey was okay, than at least to get his questions answered all the sooner.
Leo had other plans.
"We can't go now," he said as soon as Donnie proposed the idea. "It's too light out. We'll have to wait 'til it's darker."
"We've done it before. We haven't been seen."
"But we almost were. No matter how much you want to confront Emily, you'll just have to wait."
"Leo," he pleaded.
"No, Donnie. Just wait." And with that, Leo turned and entered the dojo.
The young turtle watched him go. He knew his brother was right. Going out in daylight was too dangerous, and no matter how much Donnie was haunted by that shroud of mystery, it just wasn't worth it.
Sighing, he follows Leo's lead and trudges to his lab, knowing he won't be able to concentrate on anything he does.
~*~
Emily sat on the couch watching mindless infomercials and children's cartoons when she heard a taping on the window. She turns and sees Mikey, smiling and waving, asking to be let in. Turning off the TV, she stands and walks over. She undoes the latch than scoots to the side so the turtles can hop in. Donnie looks grim, and he's carrying a large brown duffle bag. Leo's face is identical.
The hours waiting to make their visit seemed to drag by for both of the turtles. They had no idea how the girl before them was going to react to what the brainy turtle had found, and that worried them the most. For their part, Raph and Mikey hadn't the slightest clue as to what was setting their brothers on edge, or why the atmosphere was so tense.
When the last turtle went through the window, Emily decides to leave it open. Dusk had just fallen over the city, and it had been a cool October day, promising to be a cooler night. Emily had never been bothered by the cold. She hoped the same could be said for her present company.
"I guess I can't be too mad at you for not coming right away," she says turning away from the window. "I bet travel gets hard, only being able to go out at night."
Before anyone can answer, she turns to Donnie. "It's been too long. For awhile there I thought some one locked you in your lab and threw away the key."
Donnie nods. "Is Casey alright? Has he woken up yet?"
If Emily's surprised by his lack of good humor, she doesn't show it. "No, he hasn't. He's just lying on the bed with that bizarre look on his face."
He nods again and after depositing the bag, heads to the room, Leo following close behind.
Sighing, Emily sits on the couch next to Mikey. "Don't worry about it," he says reassuringly while reaching for the remote. "If Donnie can't fix it, no one can."
Raph plops himself down on Emily's other side. "Any idea why Leo and Don are acting so strange?"
"No clue," she answers. "I have no idea at all."
~*~
Donnie walks into Casey's room. He sees the man lying on his bed. Walking over, he sees Emily was right. You can call Casey a lot of things, of tranquil wasn't one of them.
"Do you really think there's something wrong with him?" asks Leo from the other side of the bed.
Donnie reaches for the man's wrist, checking for a pulse. "I'm afraid I do."
"Could a child truly have done this?"
"Under the right conditions, yes." Donnie thinks back to the children's book.
"Whatever's wrong with him, you'll be able to make him snap out of it, right?"
His younger brother sighs, shaking his head. "I hope so, but if who I think did this really did do this, it'll be hard to say."
"Who did you think did this?" Leo looks over at his brother worriedly.
Donnie looks right back. "It's hard to say," he repeats cryptically.
Leo shakes his head. "Fine. But what's wrong with him?"
"He appears to be sleeping. I can see no other evidence to claim otherwise. The bruising around his eye was from the fight he was in the other night, correct?"
"Ya, Raph and Casey cornered some street punks, but were caught off guard when they called for back-up."
"Than all the intruder did to him was merely knock him unconscious. What ever they did was simple, but effective." Donnie straightens and heads to where the others wait patiently.
"So what do we do?" Leo asks, catching up.
"As far as I can tell, we wait." Donnie looks behind him at his oldest brother. "He doesn't look like he's in pain, so we don't have to worry about that."
Leo sighs, and looks behind him one last time. "I hope your right."
~*~
Emily stands up when the two re-enter the room. "Well?" she asks impatiently.
"As far as I can tell, his vitals are in good shape. All we can do is wait for him to wake up."
"If he wakes up," she mumbles. She walks to the kitchen. "Anybody want something to drink?"
A chorus of no thank you's trail behind her as she walks to the fridge. Grabbing a soda, she goes back to join the turtles. Donnie and Leo had joined their brother and where standing nervously around the sofa.
Donnie looked agitated and was wringing his hands. Leo was looking at his feet.
"Something wrong?" she asked sitting back in her open place between Raph and Mikey.
Donnie sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "Emily, there's no subtle way to tell you this, so I'm just going to jump in. Remain calm, though, okay?"
Emily raised her eyebrows as Donnie went digging through the bag. When he pulled out a manila folder, she looked intrigued. "What've you got there?"
He pulled out a lone piece of paper, looking bleak. "I'm sorry, Emily, but," he pauses handing the paper to the girl. He had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like an eternity, even if it was only since the night before. Now that it had finally come, he was at a loss for words. "But you're adopted." He blurts out.
"What?" says Raph. "Adopted? No way."
"Dude, that's a little harsh, isn't it, Don?" Mikey shakes his head.
"Donnie opens his mouth to defend himself and his findings, but before any sound comes out, Emily says something first: "I know."
The air stills; nothing dares move.
"You know?" asks Donnie quietly.
Emily hadn't taken her eyes of the paper Donnie had given her. "Yeah." She finally looks up into the bewildered face of the turtle. The corner of her mouth twitches. "I wasn't that young, you know."
"So you remember your real parents?" asks Donnie cautiously.
"No," she admits. "But I remember meeting David." A smile breaks out. "He was the nicest person I had ever met."
"Well, that would explain Casey not meeting you until you were what, seven?" Raph reaches for the paper in her hands. "What's this?"
"Her birth certificate. It took a long time to find it."
"So," Raph looks it over. "Your real name is Emily Marie Wilson. Your real parent's names are Isabel and John Wilson."
"Birth parents." Emily says automatically.
"Birth parents?"
"David and Helen are my real parents; not these strangers."
"But they didn't conceive you. If you ask me, they're the strangers." He argues.
Emily stares him down. "We don't have to share blood for me to be their daughter. Surely you of all people would understand that." She says, throwing the words at him like carefully aimed arrows. Emily was referring to the fact that these four turtles had a rat for a father.
Raph looks abashed and shies away from the fiery gaze that's drilling a hole into his skull.
"Wait," says Mikey, seeming to catch something. "Casey doesn't know?"
Emily shrugs. "I guess not." She's trying not to show it, but they can tell she looks worried.
"I'm sure if you were good enough for his brother, you'll be good enough for him," says Raph, trying to make up for the previous comment.
Emily ignores him, still stung, and says, "Donnie, how did you find this? I thought all my records were destroyed."
"It's complicated. I got suspicious when you reacted the way you did when you were told your mother died of an attempted robbery. Your father died from one too. I thought it was too big of a coincidence (especially when you acted like you did) so I went digging. I didn't find much, and on a whim, I started looking for other people who died from robberies in the past ten years." He paused for a breath. "After several dead ends, I found a doctor who died about six years ago."
Emily, who had reclaimed the certificate from Raph, was gazing at the names while only half-listening to what the turtle was rambling about. "Doctor?" he head snapped up, the paper in her hands forgotten. "Doctor Roberts?"
Donnie nods, confused by the sudden out burst.
"He's dead, too?" she says faintly.
Donnie nods again. "Attempted robbery. I found some interesting thing while going through his files. I figured they would be deleted upon his death, but luckily, they weren't." He starts going through the folder, looking for other long forgotten documents.
At this point, Emily isn't listening. She gets to her feet, and shakily, she walks out of the apartment. No one stops her, being too confused as to what's causing her strange behavior.
~*~
The gates, cold and rusted in the October air, creak open with a moan of protest. Emily slips through the gap. She looks around at the slabs of stone. Some are unkempt; protruding from the ground, seemingly held up by the weeds that cling so desperately to their feet. Most however, are clean and well cared for. These are the ones that haven't been forgotten.
Emily walks through the silent night, towards her destination.
She knows she shouldn't be here. The wrong kinds of people know she visits this place regularly. That cat, for starters, and the little girl probably knew too. But where else can she go? Emily is tired of only hurting the people who want to help her. Besides.
No one can hurt the dead.
Finally, she reaches the cold marble that serves as a marker. She presses her hand firmly to the words carved in the stone. David Jacob Jones.
The air smells crisp, fresh.
She has that familiar feeling of being able to breathe that crisp, fresh air.
"Hey, Dad," Emily whispers. "It's been awhile, huh?" She sits down on the cold, hard earth. "He was the nicest guy, never making promises he couldn't keep." Sighing sadly she asks, "Why didn't you tell me Dr. Roberts died? What else haven't you told me?" Her questions hang in the dead air, starring her in the face.
She stares hopelessly at her hands, placed so carefully in her lap. Tears swim in her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. She's grown so tired of crying.
~*~