"Holy shit, Sloan,"
The red-head turned around, and Hannah saw that her eyes were wide with rage, almost crazed looking. A bright, crystalline light seemed to glow behind them, and the pendant around her neck was once again glowing with power.
Hannah hadn't thought twice about Sloan going up against her rapist. When she'd pulled her tantō on the guy, Hannah had immediately gone after the other two Purple Dragons. It hadn't taken long for her to dispatch them – they weren't the best fighters, clumsy with their limbs and punches. One of them had gotten off a lucky hit to her face when she'd been preoccupied with the other, but Hannah had easily taken them out with a few punches, and they'd collapsed unconscious on the ground. Then she'd turned around and watched the last bit of Sloan's fight, ready to jump in if she needed to.
She knew what the red-head was capable of, had trained her right along with the turtles. But what she was watching Sloan do now...there was no way anyone had taught her those moves. Hannah sure hadn't, and they didn't look like anything the boys would know to teach. It was brutal, no real finesse to it at all. But, the demigod had to admit that it was effective.
And when Sloan stepped on the goon's leg and broke it, Hannah knew that her suspicions were probably accurate. And after Sloan slipped into Gaelic and stabbed her rapist and watched the life leave him, Hannah knew for sure that it wasn't fully Sloan that was before her. Whatever ancient force was sleeping within her friend was steadily crawling out, desperate to be freed.
There was more Brighid there than Sloan, and Hannah just hoped that her sister-in-law could get it back under control.
"You...you okay?"
The light behind Sloan's eyes and around her pendant faded, and she blinked as if clearing her head.
"H-Hannah..." Her voice had lost the hard edge it had as she'd been talking to the Dragon leader, and Hannah couldn't help but be relieved. Stil, she approached her friend cautiously nonetheless.
"Sloan, can you stand?" She did, and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, let's get you away from there, all right?"
"Away...from..." Hannah reached out to stop her, but Sloan turned and saw her rapist's dead body literally under her feet, and she gasped when she saw all the blood. "Oh my God." She moved to cover her hand with her mouth, but stopped when she saw all the blood on it. And, in turn, all the blood on her tantō. "I think I'm gonna be sick..."
"Sloan, come on, we need to get out of here." Hannah's eye throbbed, and she knew from experience that she would have a black eye the next day.
"I...Hannah what did I..."
"Not important right now." Hannah gently gripped her shoulders and pulled her away from the body. "We need to get back underground before someone calls the police and reports a..." She barely stopped herself from saying "murder." "These guys."
Sloan still couldn't look away from the body. Hannah squeezed her shoulders and started to clean up. Using a water spigot on the side of one of the buildings, she pulled enough water to wash away any evidence that they were ever there. The police wouldn't miss the defensive wounds on the body, but the fact that they were from a knife and not a gun would slow down forensics.
Hannah turned her attention back to the two unconscious goons, hoping that they wouldn't be able to identify her and Sloan as the ones who beat them. Hannah had already knocked them out by the time Sloan had stabbed their leader, but they'd seen her pull the knife. They would know it had been them. Hannah also knew that the murder itself might set off a gang war if the Purple Dragons blamed someone else. No one knew that they were connected to the turtles, so there was nothing stopping the Purple Dragons from blaming a rival gang.
Except for Hun, but Hannah thought – prayed, really – he wouldn't give Sloan up. Hannah just hoped there was enough of the Mist around to confuse their memories a bit. She turned back to Sloan.
"Okay, let's get back underground before anyone sees us."
Sloan nodded wordlessly, and Hannah gently took the tantō out of her hand, wiping it on the leader's body. She held out a hand for the sheath, and Sloan gave it to her. Then they very quickly made their way back underground.
…
Sloan threw up twice after they'd gotten to the sewers. Hannah just held her hair back for her and let her system handle it. But she knew she needed to get the red-head to Donatello before shock fully set in.
"I..." Sloan's weak voice cut through her anxious thoughts. "I killed him."
Hannah sighed through her nose. "Uh...yeah, Sloan, you...you did." She rubbed her friend's back. "But he would have killed you if you hadn't gotten to him first."
"I...I took a life. I killed the father of my child."
Hold up. Hannah took Sloan's shoulders as gently as she could, and forced the red-head to look at her.
"No, Sloan, listen to me. Leo is the father of your child. As far as I'm concerned, that...that...thing up there in the alley is not worth as much as the dirt and grime and whatever the hell else is in these sewers, okay? Leave those thoughts behind with that body in the alley. He got what he deserved."
Sloan still looked way too pale for Hannah's liking, but she nodded through her streaming eyes and wiped her nose and allowed the demigod to lead her back to the lair.
…
It was happening again.
Everything around her was burning to ash. Her toys, her bed, her room. It was almost as if everything she touched withered away to nothing under white-hot flames. Flames that seemed to come from her own hands.
"Mommy!" she cried out. "Daddy! Help!"
Her parents stormed into the room, only to be quickly forced out again by the flames. They couldn't get close, not unless they wanted to burn as well.
"Elias, go get Ella," her mom commanded, then turned to the other twin. "Claire, honey, we can't go in there. You're going to have to come out on your own."
Claire's two-year-old brown eyes roved over the flames now making their way toward the open doorway. "But, I can't –"
"Yes, you can," her mom replied sternly. "The flames won't hurt you, they're coming from you. But you have to calm down, or else things will get worse."
"Mommy!" The flames grew bigger in response to the little girl's terror.
"Claire, honey, you need to calm down!"
"Mommy! Claire!"
"Ella no!"
Miraculously, as the other twin raced through the flames to get to her sister, they didn't hurt her at all. Ella reached Claire and put her little arms around her twin. They both began to cry.
"Ella, Claire, you need to follow us, now!"
"But – " Claire tried to protest, even as Ella started to pull her towards the flames.
She could feel the heat they put off as she got closer, and she knew – she just knew – they would hurt her if she touched them. Her parents had always warned her against touching hot things, and fire was one of the hottest things and she was never supposed to touch it. Beyond the wall of flames, she could see her parents' terrified faces as the flames reached past the doorway and surrounded them on all sides.
She screamed.
…
"Claire! Claire!"
The witch jolted up in bed, narrowly missing her boyfriend's head as she did so. Sweat clung to her, made her hair stick to her skin, and she felt like she couldn't get enough air in her lungs. The air around her was stifling, hot, and seemed to burn her throat when she sucked it in.
"Claire, what was – ow!" Donnie reached for her arm, then had to immediately withdraw his hand.
She had burned him.
"Oh…oh God," she murmured, bringing her hands up to cover her face. She began to slow her breathing, attempting to calm herself down. It was the only way to keep from completely losing control.
"Claire," the purple-masked turtle began hesitantly. He acted like he wanted to put his arms around her, then seemed to think better of it. "I think you need to tell me what happened to your parents."
She sniffed and raised her head. "Wh-why?"
"Because…I think I saw your dream, too."
She stared at him for a full three seconds before the dream came back to her, and she felt her face crumble as tears flowed freely. The pain of losing them – and knowing that she had been the cause – was as fresh as it had been that day she lost them.
Donnie sighed and hesitantly reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, then wrapped his arms around her as he found her skin had cooled. He held her as she broke down, and it was a solid thirty minutes before she could even form halfway-coherent words.
"It's not a dream," she finally said. She felt his arms tighten around her. "It was a memory. But…" she sniffed again, and wiped at her eyes. "I always thought that I was the only one there…that's the first time I remembered…Ella."
Donatello rubbed her back comfortingly. "Anything else?"
Claire took a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to focus on the memory of her parents' faces as the fire she'd inadvertently caused burned them. She shook her head. "Nothing else new."
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her shoulder. She reached up and wrapped an arm around the back of his neck.
"Is…sharing dreams…a side-effect of the spell?"
"I don't know, I've never heard of it happening before," Claire answered tiredly. "I can…call my aunts tomorrow and see."
"Don't do that if it's going to cause problems," he said hurriedly. "If Ella doesn't remember the dream, I don't want you to have to tell her that."
Claire squeezed his hand gratefully, happy that he shared her train of thought. "It'll be fine," she answered. "I just...need to…" She trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
"You don't need to do anything, Claire," Donatello told her. He held her tighter. "But...now I understand why you never wanted to use your magic."
"I'm getting better -"
"I know, but...I understand if you don't want to continue."
Claire chewed her lip as Donnie gently kissed her shoulder, then the spot between her shoulder and neck.
"I can't stop now," she said at length. "It's...like if I did, the magic would just start building up over time and would just end up hurting me. It's like...I've had a lid on it for so long, and now I've taken it off, and it's impossible to force it all back into...wherever I was trying to hide it. I have to keep going."
Donnie opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden shout from the living room cut him off. Claire whipped her head around to meet his eyes, then scrambled for her clothes. Donnie jumped off the cot and reached for his belt, mask and pads.
"I have a feeling someone is going to need that." Claire nodded towards the cot - currently covered in tangled sheets.
Donnie quickly bundled up the sheets and threw them in the corner just as Claire buttoned her jeans. "Hopefully not." He slid on his elbow pads as he reached for the door and pulled it open.
…
"Donnie! Leo! I need some help here!"
Hannah had to practically drag Sloan across the threshold to the safety of the lair, having to almost completely support Sloan the last quarter-mile in the sewers. Thankfully Leo was there almost immediately to take his wife from the demigod. Not three seconds later, Donnie and Claire – a rather disheveled looking Claire – exited the lab and made their way over to the other two girls. Hannah knew that they must look awful; they were both covered in blood and dirt and grime, and Sloan's shirt had a small bit of vomit on the sleeve from where she'd wiped her mouth.
Leo's panicked eyes roved his wife for injuries, his hands gently but firmly gripping the redhead to keep her upright.
"We got into a fight. The blood's not hers," Hannah managed, doubled over and resting her hands on her knees. She sucked in another harsh breath. "But she's going into shock."
Donnie nodded, going into doctor mode. "Leo, get her in the lab and on the cot. We need to keep her warm and get some sugar in her."
The blue-masked turtle nodded and scooped Sloan up into his arms, turning toward the lab. Donnie moved to follow, but Hannah reached out and stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"Don, it...it happened again."
The genius turtle furrowed his brow. "What happened again?"
"She spoke Gaelic again. I don't think she realized it."
Donnie blinked in surprise. "What exactly happened?" he asked at the same time Leo called for him from the lab. He glanced over his shoulder at the doorway, then over to Claire before looking back at the demigod.
"I can explain later. Go take care of Sloan," Hannah told him. He nodded and, with a quick kiss to the top of Claire's head, he raced off to help the red-head. Hannah watched Claire try to smooth her hair down, but nothing was going to help it lay flatter. It went wild, and in her exhausted state, Hannah had to turn away to keep from laughing. She made her way into the kitchen and opened the freezer door, not caring that she heard the witch-girl following her. Pulling out a bag of frozen peas, she slumped down into a chair at the table and held the bag over the injured side of her face. She stared over at Claire, who was wandering around the kitchen as if she didn't know what to do with herself.
"So," Hannah began. "How was your night?"
Claire shrugged, pulling out a chair across from the demigod, then turning away from it as if she'd changed her mind. "Good, I guess."
Hannah snorted. "If it was just 'good' then I'm going to have to talk to Donnie about how to make sure you're happy." She gave the witch a knowing look.
Claire's pale skin turned crimson. "No, that was...great. It was...after. But, it's not a big deal. I'll just handle it later."
Hannah propped her feet up in the chair beside her. "Listen, Claire, you can't shut the rest of this family out. We're here for you, okay? So if you need to talk to us about your relationship with Donnie, feel free to."
The curly-haired witch finally seemed to focus on Hannah. "Do you have a concussion? You're being unusually chatty."
"Maybe. My point still stands.
Claire sighed and smiled half-heartedly. "It's not anything to do with Donnie, it's..." She paused, biting her lip and seeming to be trying to decide what to tell Hannah. "I had a nightmare earlier, and it's just shaken me up, that's all."
Hannah blinked her good eye. "Well that's nothing, I wouldn't worry about that too much."
Claire just made a noncommittal noise as Mikey popped his head in and asked her to help him out with "kid duty." As the witch left, Hannah sat deeper in her chair and set her head against the back of it, closing her eyes.
A few minutes later, she heard the tell-tale sound of one of the turtles entering the kitchen. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, but not unpleasantly. That could only mean one thing.
"Donnie tell you what happened?" she asked, not opening her eyes. Gods, she was tired, right down to her bones.
"Just that you were in a fight," her red-masked turtle answered, taking the unoccupied seat beside her. "Care ta fill in some details?"
She told him all about it, even down to Sloan's slipping into Gaelic again. "I don't think she knew what she was doing," She finished. "Whatever Brighid is doing, I'm afraid it's really messing her up."
"Maybe she didn't care," Raph supplied. "It...was the guy who..." He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.
Hannah shook her head. "You didn't see her after it happened. She was devastated. I could barely get her back here before she turned catatonic. They fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts about their red-masked sister-in-law. Hannah knew that Raph cared about Sloan – when she'd first told the brothers what had happened, Raph had almost gone back to the city after the guy, his own safety be damned. Hannah was glad he hadn't, but she knew she probably would have been right there with him. As it stood, Hannah wasn't sorry the bastard was gone.
After a while, Hannah sighed and shifted the bag on her face.
"Here, lemme see." Raph motioned for the bag, now halfway thawed, and Hannah plopped it into his outstretched hand. He stood and tilted her head back to see better, gingerly poking around the socket. Hannah winced as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
"Guy get in a lucky hit?"
Hannah grunted. "'Lucky' is a good word for it. Sloan distracted me when she...slipped." She couldn't find a better word for it.
"You got 'im back, right?"
"Broke his nose, jaw, and I'm pretty sure I cracked a few ribs on the other guy."
The demigod met her turtle's eyes, and she could tell there was more he wanted to say. But he just gently stroked her cheek and said, "'Atta girl."
She grinned up at him and took his hand. "I'm okay, Raph, really. This is nothing." She gestured to her face with her free hand.
"Still..." The small smile he had dimmed. "Wouldn't've happened if I'd'a been there."
She sighed again. She knew that in an ordinary relationship, the guy normally protected the girl from harm. But she and Raph both knew their relationship was anything but normal.
"I've been trained to take care of myself, Red," she told him. "I can handle it when it's just me. You've fought me, you know how good I am."
He grimaced. "But you shouldn't have ta – "
"But I do," she cut him off, pointing to herself. "Monster-slayer and demigod, remember? It's literally in my genes. I've fought plenty of things bigger and tougher than Purple Dragons."
He grinned again and sat back down in his chair. "Problem is," he began. "I know yer right. But..." He squeezed her hand, looking away. "I was there when we first met Sloan, keep in mind. I saw firs' hand what kinda hell-hole she was kept in. And God knows how many other girls they've done the same to."
"The guys we fought tonight were trying to get more," Hannah told him. "We saved the two tonight, but I'm afraid it won't make a dent in their operation at all."
Raphael met her eyes again. "I can't...Han, I couldn't take it if...they somehow got a hold 'a you. I don' know how you'd fight yer way outta that."
Hannah didn't have the heart to tell him that she'd rather die than be sold into slavery like that, and that if she had to, she'd make that happen before anyone put a hand on her. So, she just squeezed his hand back and pulled him in for a soft, simple kiss, one he eagerly reciprocated.
"Let's go upstairs and forget this night ever happened, 'kay?"
He smiled against her lips, then pulled her up and out of the kitchen, heading straight for the iron staircase that led to the second story.
Hannah knew she could lose herself in her partner for a few hours, and this was what Raphael needed to assure him that she was going to be fine.
She was more worried about Sloan at that moment.
…
Donatello stared at Sloan, who was currently averting her blue gaze to the floor. After he and Leo had initially gotten her through the worst of her shock, Don had asked her what had happened. She relayed the entire story, including what she'd said to her rapist – Malcolm, she'd called him. When Don had mentioned that Hannah said she'd slipped into Gaelic at the end, Sloan had immediately clammed up and reached for her pendant, clutching it tightly. She hadn't said a word since.
Don assured Leo that the worst was behind her, and the blue-masked turtle set off with a long kiss to his wife's forehead.
"I'm going to go make sure James is okay," he said, moving closer to his brother. He dropped his voice as he reached Donnie. "See if you can get anything else out of her, okay? But...be careful."
Donatello nodded and gently gripped his oldest brother's arm as he left, then turned his attention back to the red-head. Her clothes were still covered in blood – most of it dry now – but they'd cleaned the blood off her skin. Donnie had checked her for injuries, but had found none. Now, he wadded up the bloody rags he'd used and washed his hands, then moved closer to Sloan.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Sore. Tired. Stupid." It was more than she'd said in the last fifteen minutes, and Donnie knew that he needed to choose his words carefully to keep her talking.
"Why do you feel stupid?"
"Because I jumped into a fight without calling the police to help." Her voice was flat and emotionless, but she still held on to her pendant as tight as she could. "And I left Hannah to fight two people instead of one."
"But...you wanted to call the police before you realized who it was, didn't you? And you knew Hannah could handle herself."
"She shouldn't have needed to!" Sloan retorted, finally getting some emotion back. Good.
"But she did, because you had Malcolm under control. It's okay." She was shaking her head, but Donnie took her free hand in both of his. "You both survived, relatively unharmed."
Her head shot up at that. "Hannah? Is she – "
"She's fine, she'll probably just have a black eye. But you...you came out of that without a scratch on you."
She sighed. "I...I still don't know how."
Donnie fell silent, considering how he was going to tell her. "Sloan, I think...I think Brighid helped you out with that." When Sloan gave him a questioning look, he continued. "You told us that you performed moves that you'd never learned before, or could even think to try. I'm wondering if, maybe, Brighid sort of...took over to make sure you survived."
Sloan blanched at that and pulled her hand out of his. "Wh-what do you mean 'took over'?"
Donnie shrugged. "Hannah said you spoke Gaelic again, but to you it sounded like English, just like before when James was born. I think...I think Brighid is slowly trying tell you something, and she's making sure you survive long enough to learn that."
Sloan buried her face in her hands. "Why can't I just be normal?" she wondered aloud, her voice slightly muffled.
Donnie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You are normal...at least, for this family."
She gave him a withering look. "Thanks, that's exactly what I wanted to hear," she told him dryly.
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm going to go get Leo and James, and see if they want to spend the night in here where I can monitor you. Will you be okay until I get back?"
Sloan nodded, raking her hand through her hair and once again gripping her pendant as if her life depended on it.
"Okay, I'll be right back." He made his way out of the lab, hoping to also talk to Hannah again now that Sloan was stable. He wanted to hear her side of the story, maybe she could shed some light on this mystery. And he still needed to talk to Claire about her dream/memory that he'd shared. He didn't think she was as okay as she'd told him, and he wanted to talk to her before she decided to bottle her fear up again.
He stopped beside the empty couch, wondering exactly when their life underground had gotten so complicated. Then he snorted at his own train of thought, realizing that their life had always been complicated even before the girls came around.
He looked around the living room for Hannah, then in the kitchen when he couldn't find her. He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where she was and deciding that he didn't need answers that badly that he wanted to interrupt his more volatile brother and the demigod in the middle of their activities. So, he set off for the dojo, where he knew Leo and Splinter most likely were with James and Emily. Sloan needed them both right now, even if she didn't realize it. Donnie just hoped that whatever Brighid was doing, it wasn't going to permanently damage Sloan's psyche.
Y'all, I promise this is about Donnie and Claire...there was just too much of Sloan's story to get out...