A/N: Aww, Raph, you really should've listened to the boy.
Reviewers, before you form that lynching party, remember I've promised a happy ending.
*Runs to hide until the heat's off*
Chapter 14 -The Shot-
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"Kid. Hey, Kid. I said ya gotta keep up if yer comin' wit' me. An' ya make too much noise. Half da forest'll hear ya comin'." Raph glared over his shoulder at the boy trailing him.
"Yer makin' more noise wit' yer jawin' then I am," grumbled Cameron.
Raphael swore as the chain wrapped itself around a bush. "Too bad ya didn't bring da hatchet, I could o' shortened dis chain," he remarked.
"Sure." Cameron snorted. "An' mebbe while I was at it, we coulda got da keys to the truck, an' yer fancy knives, too."
"Not a bad idea, Kid."
Wait a minute. It's really not a bad idea. If we could get to dat truck, I could hot-wire it and be back in the city before dark. I've gotta lose da kid, though. Leo'd be really ticked if I brought him back ta da Lair.
Raph glanced at the boy again. "Kid, where's da boat? If we can get across da river, mebbe we can lose them."
"Yer crazy. My ol' man's on da other side of dat river. An' da highway runs right along it. Somebody'd spot ya."
"I gotta chance it, Kid. I can't stay around here an' wait fer yer crazy sister ta hunt me down."
Cameron sighed. "All right. I'll take ya ta da boat, but Raphael?"
"Yeah, Kid?"
"Ya gotta promise ta take me wit' ya."
"What?" Raph's eyes narrowed.
"I wanna go to da city wit' ya. I'll get ya to da truck. I can hot-wire it. Billy showed me how. Ya can drive, can't ya?"
"I can't take ya back wit' me, Kid."
The kid's blue eyes stared up at Raph, reminding him again of Mikey. "I ain't got nowhere else ta go!"
"Dat ain't my problem, Kid!" They glared at one another for a full minute.
"I ain't takin' ya to da boat unless you give me yer word ta take me ta da city wit' ya."
"I ain't takin' ya to da city!"
"Then ya can find da boat on yer own." Cameron turned and started walking off.
"Cameron! Kid, wait!" Raphael shook his head in frustration. He shouldn't be out here on his own. But who'm I kidding? He can prolly take better care of himself than I can. The kid's got guts, an' he knows how ta take care of himself out here, better'n I do, dat's fer sure. That father of his… I can't just leave him with that family. But I ain't no social worker! What'm I supposed ta do wit' him?
He started after the boy, but the chain caught on a branch. Raph swore and yanked the chain loose, swearing again as it dug into his raw neck. He let loose a sigh. "Cameron, wait!" he called. Cameron turned, just within sight and looked at him, frowning.
"Whatdaya want?"
"All right, Kid," said Raph. "I… I give ya my word. Ya can come back ta da city wit' me. Now, let's go."
Cameron's smile lit up the woods. "All right! It'll be great, Raphael, you'll see. I can get a job, an' an apartment. Ya can live wit' me if ya want…"
"Kid. I got a home. I got a family. I don't need no apartment."
"Oh." Cameron turned away, stalking off through the woods.
Now I done it. I went an hurt his feelin's. Well, better he should learn now. I ain't no babysitter an' I ain't a pet.
"Cameron…"
"It's ok, Raphael. Just take me ta da city, an' I'll disappear. I can take care o' myself. Ya won't hafta worry 'bout me no more. I won't bother ya again after we get there. I… I give ya my word."
They walked in silence for about a mile, skirting the cabin and making a bend toward the river. Finally Cameron stopped, pointing.
"There's da boat," he whispered.
"Let's go," answered Raph.
"Wait!" Cameron caught Raphael's arm. Raph scowled, glaring.
"What? Let's go, Kid, 'fore somebody comes."
"Somethin' ain't right. Somethin' don't feel right," whispered Cameron. "Raphael, wait, where're ya goin?"
"I'm gonna get dat boat, Cameron. Ya comin' wit' me or not?"
"No, Raphael! Wait!" Cameron called keeping his voice quiet though his tone was urgent. "Don't go out there, Raphael!"
Raph ignored him, striding toward the boat. I've got to get outta these woods. I've gotta find dat truck an' get da shell home…
He approached the rowboat slowly, cautiously, but there was no sign of the teenagers who'd been hunting him. Raph smirked. The idiot kids had left the oars right in the boat. This would be too easy. As he stepped out into the grass on the riverbank, a cold voice stopped him, frozen in his tracks.
"Don't move, turtle."
Raph turned slowly on the spot, scanning the bushes for the owner of the voice. A man stood up, a cold smile playing across his rugged features. His heavy shot-gun was pointed at Raph's stomach. "See, boys, I tol' ya, traps work iffin ya can just use da right bait."
Billy stepped from behind a tree, smirking, his gun leveled at Raph, too. Raph spotted Juan a few paces behind Billy and Johanna stepped out from behind yet another clump of undergrowth.
"Where's my brother, Turtle?" growled Billy.
"How should I know?" snapped Raph, glaring. "What do you care, anyway?"
"If you've harmed my boy, critter, your shell'll be hangin' on my wall," growled the man.
"I ain't seen yer kid," answered Raphael. Well, I wanted five minutes with Cameron's father. Except I didn't want it to be with him holding a gun on me. Shell, the kid was right. I guess I shoulda listened ta him.
"How're we gonna do this, Pa?" asked Jo, her eyes gleaming. "We won't all fit in da boat at once."
"You an' me'll take da turtle back," said Thomas. His dark eyes never left Raphael. "Ya can hold da gun. I'll row. Den ya can come back an' get yer brother an' Juan."
"Pa, ya can't leave us out here," protested Billy. "What about Cameron? What if he's out in da woods, hurt or somethin'?"
"Cameron can take care o' himself," growled Thomas. "He shouldn't o' run off like he did."
"I ain't leavin' wit'out Cameron," said Billy stubbornly. "Dis turtle did somethin' ta him, I know it did. Where's my brother, Turtle?"
"I tol' ya already, I ain't seen 'im," said Raphael, glaring. Da least I can do is give da kid a chance to get away.
"Come on. I ain't got all day ta stand around jawin'," said Thomas. He strode forward and poked Raph in the plastron with his gun. "Move, Turtle."
"Da name's Raphael."
"Heh. Dat's a fancy name."
"I'd rather have a fancy name than bein' some big drunk who beats up on little kids," Raph returned.
The man's fist shot out so fast, Raph was caught off guard and he rolled back on his shell. In an instant he was on his feet, crouching in a fighting stance. He leapt forward, swinging a kick at the man's head… and fell backward again as the chain caught on a root, yanking him to the ground. He landed square on his shell and swore.
Raucous laughter echoed through the forest. Thomas, Johanna and Billy were all laughing. Juan smirked. Raphael scrambled up, furious. I'll teach ya ta laugh at me! He lunged forward with a roar, but the guns were trained on him again in an instant.
"Don't do it, Turtle," growled Thomas. Raph froze, staring at the gun.
"Billy, take hold o' dat chain an' lead da t'ing ta da boat. Ya can look fer Cameron while Jo an' I take it back ta da boat launch. I'll put it in da back of Juan's truck an' wait fer ya there."
"What're we gonna do wit' it, Pa?"
"I reckon Jo's right; we can sell it," said Thomas. "It's prolly worth a mint. We'll sell it an' pay off da mortgage on da house. Mebbe buy a new pick-up." Raph watched Johanna's eyes go icy cold. She was not happy with her father's plans for the money she figured was hers by right. Raph smirked. Sorry, sister. Guess you're out of luck. Daddy's gonna spend all yer money an' ya won't see a dime.
"What about Mamma's pills?" Juan spoke up. "Billy an' I were gonna split da money. I need it fer my Mamma's pills, Mr. Roberts."
Thomas' cold blue eyes rested on the boy for a moment. "Yeah, kid, we'll get yer Ma's medicine, don't worry. Da t'ing's worth plenty." Raphael saw the lie in the man's eyes. He had no intention of sharing the money.
"He ain't gonna give ya not'in', Kid," he sneered, driving the wedge deeper. "He's gonna take me an' his favorite kid. He'll sell me an' leave you two out here ta rot in da woods."
"Shut yer trap, critter," yelled Thomas, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Why? Ya gonna hit me, too?" snapped Raphael. "Yer good at beatin' up on yer son who can't defend himself. How about ya put dat gun down an' try hittin' me again?"
"I knew it! It saw Cameron! Make it tell us where he is, Pa! What'd ya do wit' my brother, Critter? Where's Cameron?" Billy stared, wild-eyed at Raph.
"Like I'd tell ya if I knew, wit' da bruises dat kid has," snapped Raphael. "What, da ya use 'im as a personal punchin' bag?"
"I never hit my brother," yelled Billy.
"Shut up, boy," snapped Thomas. "Critter, what'd ya do wit' my boy?"
"He ain't yer 'boy'," growled Raphael, glaring. "He has a name. It's 'Cameron'. An' he deserves better'n what you've given him. Shell, I know more about bein' a dad than you ever will. Yer not'in' but a bully."
The gun swung up, showing Raph death once more. Aw shell, I've really got to learn to keep my big yap shut.
"Turtle, you got to the count o' three ta tell me where my boy is. One…"
Cameron, sorry fer dis, Kid. A turtle's gotta do what a turtle's gotta do.
"Two…"
Before the man could say 'three', Raphael was flying through the air toward him with a bellow. The barrel snapped up and the roar of a gunshot mingled with Raph's furious war-cry, echoing through the trees.