Chapter 28: Moving Forward
"Bye, sweetie, we'll be back soon!"
From his hiding place behind the rosebushes growing at the side of Monalisa's house, Raphael listened until the sound of her parents' car faded into the distance before he crawled out and scurried up the stairs to the balcony. A few short seconds later, he was creeping through the quiet house. He had already spent most of the day here, but he had pretended to leave when he heard the Mr. and Mrs. of the house say they were going out, in case they didn't feel comfortable with him hanging around so late. So late and all alone with their daughter.
While he was killing time outside in the cold, Monalisa had taken a shower. He found her sitting in her bedroom at her vanity, combing her damp hair and dressed in a fuzzy pink bathrobe that matched all the pink in her room. Raphael waited until she spotted the reflection of him in the doorway before coming to stand behind her, where he rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed her hair. The silky tresses smelled like strawberries; he breathed deep and kissed her again.
She flashed a smile he glimpsed in the mirror, but at the same time she edged away and ducked her head. "Henry's still up," she told him in a whisper.
Right after she spoke, the rambunctious little guy went running past her open bedroom door, arms loaded with tub toys. A second later the bathroom door slammed.
With a smirk, Raphael went and casually closed her door. "Looks like he's going to be involved for a while."
Monalisa finished with her hair before setting her comb down and going over to sit on the foot of her bed. "He'll be in there at least an hour," she agreed. "What do you want to do in the meantime?"
The innocence of her question made him chuckle as he took a seat next to her. The fabric of her bathrobe rubbed against his thigh as he leaned to whisper, "I think you know."
The former human edged away again. "Don't."
Arms folded around herself like she suddenly felt cold, she got up and went to face the window. With a stifled sigh, Raphael stayed where he was. The more he let his desires show through, the harder she pulled away. It was frustrating, but what bothered him the most was how he didn't know why she kept pulling away. What was he doing wrong?
"Are you mad at me?" he ventured, after a long silence.
The mutant he loved gave him a funny look before facing the window again, her gaze fixed on the quiet, snowy night. "No. Of course not."
"Are you mad about something else? Something you don't want to tell me?"
Sighing, Monalisa shook her head. "I'm not mad at anybody or about anything."
Absently fiddling with the edge of the down comforter he was sitting on, the young reptile tried to think of what else might be bothering her. "Did somebody try something with you once?" he finally asked. "A boyfriend you had once who didn't want no for an answer and took things too far?"
Her head jerked in his direction, dark eyes full of surprise. "No," she said sharply. "Why would you even ask me something like that?"
Shoulders sagging, Raphael looked down at his toes as he tugged at a loose thread poking out of the corner of the comforter. "Just trying to understand why you keep pushing me away like this," he mumbled. "If you aren't mad, and I didn't do anything wrong...then I can't figure out why you don't want to be with me. Other than you just don't want to be with me."
Her expression softened as she turned away from the window. Rubbing her arm as she spoke, she said, "Of course I do. Just not yet."
"Why not?" he asked—as politely as he could.
She shrugged. "Does it matter why not?"
Frowning now, the red-clad ninja got to his feet and moved closer; she didn't turn away, though her dark eyes avoided meeting his. "It matters to me," he said. "If there's a reason why not, a reason you don't want to tell me..."
He let out a heavy sigh, head lowering. "It makes me feel like you don't trust me."
Silence fell. And then Monalisa put her hand on his cheek, lifting his face until their eyes met. He could tell by the look in hers as she gave him a tired smile that something inside her had melted. "Of course I trust you," she said, stroking his face. "I trust you with everything. It's just that..."
Biting her lip, she took her hand away and looked over at the window again. "I fee like I'm just starting to adjust to the way my life is now," she told him quietly. "Everything was torn apart when I became what I am. But now the pieces are finally coming back together; I have my family back, and I have you, and..."
She shrugged again, her smile apologetic as her eyes returned to him. "I'm just not ready to do something I know will change things."
It was Raphael's turn to have something inside him melt as he stepped forward and put his arms around her. "Nothing's going to change," he murmured, as he stroked her soft hair. "Not between us. Except that once I know every last part of you, I'm going to love you even more than I already do."
The slender mutant flushed, but she smiled as her eyes lowered, lashes brushing her darkened cheeks. "I know you will," she said. "I will, too. But I also know that when this happens things will change. We'll be different from how we are right this moment and there won't be any going back. I'm not afraid for that to happen," she quickly went on, "I want it to...just not tonight."
Her eyes lifted, searching his own imploringly; Raphael held her tighter, coaxing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "I understand. I understand all about how much you love your family and don't want to leave them. I love them too, and I can wait until you're ready to leave for as long as I have to."
Monalisa lifted her head so she could frown at him. "Why would I leave them?" she asked, clearly confused.
"Isn't it obvious?" he said in response, equally confused. "You're going to have to leave when we get married."
The jade-green mutant made a sputtering sound. "Married?" she squeaked. "You've never said one word to me about getting married!"
He couldn't help frowning at how surprised she was. Cupping her face in his hands and combing his fingers into her hair, he said, "I didn't think I needed to. We both know there's no one else for me. Never has been, never will be. As soon as you came back into my life, I stopped picturing my future without you in it. I figured you were doing the same thing."
Maybe he was wrong. The thought made his heart sink, and he slowly moved his hands away—and then tears sprang to Monalisa's dark eyes, right before she threw her arms around his neck. "Of course I want to marry you," she cried, laughing and sniffling at the same time. "I just wish we were having this conversation in a more romantic place, and I was wearing something prettier."
Grinning, Raphael dried her eyes and kissed her cheek before holding her tight again. "I don't care if you're wearing a bathrobe, covered in mud, or stark naked. You're always beautiful to me. And I want you to be mine forever."
"I want you to be mine forever," she echoed in a whisper.
After holding each other in silence for a long moment, something more meaningful than words passing between them, Monalisa lifted her head again. "You haven't sounded like yourself at all tonight," she noted. "You're acting mature and serious."
"Only happens when I'm with you, so no worries."
Snickering, she hugged him hard. "Just don't make a habit of it. I like it when you're sarcastic."
"Good, because all this sweet talk is starting to make my teeth hurt."
Monalisa gasped and swatted his arm, pretending to be shocked. While he snickered, she moved out of his arms and over to the vanity, her expression thoughtful as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. As he watched, she untied her robe and opened it a little as she looked herself over. Like she was trying to see herself the way he did. Eyes doubtful, she asked, "Do you really think I'm that beautiful?"
The red-clad turtle's skin was starting to warm as he caught tantalizing glimpses of jade-green between the folds of pink; he cleared his throat. "I just got my mind off that track and after our talk we're closer than ever; shouldn't we call it a night? I'm going to have a hard time shutting my motor down if you get it running again."
Flushing and laughing, she closed her robe again. "Sorry. I guess I'm still pretty insecure about how I look now. I'm used to looking..."
"Human?" Raphael supplied.
"Yeah," she mumbled, turning away from the mirror and leaning her hip against the edge of the vanity. "I can't help missing my old self sometimes. And don't try to make me feel better by saying you wouldn't have liked me as much. I know from your brothers' taste in girls that you guys like human girls just fine."
"We do," Raphael admitted, drawing close to her and resting a hand on her waist. "But I like you as you are better. And I think you're prettier."
Her blunt nose wrinkled in doubt.
"I do," he repeated seriously. "But it doesn't matter either way. I love you for who you are inside, remember?"
He brushed a hand to her cheek; she smiled shyly. "Quit it before you make me cry again."
"Fine," he said, with a pretend sigh of resignation as he kissed her goodbye. "I better get going before your parents come home and get the wrong idea about why I came back."
"Uh, that was why you came back."
The young ninja acted like he didn't hear that as he went over to open the window. As he was climbing over the sill, careful not to let too much snow fall onto the carpet, he paused and looked back. "Speaking of your parents...are you going to let them know we're engaged now?"
Monalisa fiddled with the belt of her bathrobe as she thought it over. "How about you bring me something I can show them that finalizes the deal?" she suggested.
Raphael grinned. "Gotcha."
The hour was growing late and the sewer den he and his family called home was dark and quiet, the only one of his sons who was home already asleep and snoring. It was during this time that Splinter often sat down to read by candlelight, or relax by looking through one of his many art books before he retired. Tonight he had something new—and different—to look at.
During the many times she had visited these last few weeks, young Dr. Morris had only spoken to him a handful of times. She was changeful and abrupt, and she could be brisk and curt with his sons (especially when they were being stubborn, which was often) but she was nothing but gentle and infinitely patient when she was working with Rebecca. And whenever she addressed him, he could tell that she was mindful of his seniority, speaking in a tone that was subdued and respectful.
A few days ago she had noted how much young Rebecca enjoyed looking at pictures, be them the cartoonish drawings in her picture books or the photographs in magazines. They helped broaden her scope and paint a picture of the world inside her growing mind, and he gathered that she also greatly enjoyed them simply for their entertainment value, more than she enjoyed any other medium. As a result, Dr. Morris had brought her several albums full of different styles of photographs.
And, to his surprise, she had given him an album as well, having noticed his collection of art books and his own appreciation for imagery. She said it was to thank him for allowing Rebecca to stay, and for being so patient with her. He was happy to help.
When it came to art, Splinter preferred paints of any kind or style over other forms, but the photographs in the album Dr. Morris gave him had a soft look he found calming to view. They had been taken with a modern camera, but the images were altered to give them a vintage appearance. The colors were often muted, some sepia toned with vignetting and others nearly black-and-white, with subtle inclusions of pastel colors.
As he was turning a page, footsteps pattered outside his room just before Rebecca came scampering in. Spotting the book in his lap, she dropped to her knees beside him and peered curiously over his arm. "What's this?" she asked, pointing at an image on the right-hand page.
The scene captured was a relaxing shot of the seashore, the colors golden and tinted with red, like a sunset. The sand looked bright and clean and he could just imagine the rush of the waves as they rolled against the shore. Walking near the water's edge was a young girl, her back to the camera and skirt and hair blowing in the wind.
The part that had captured young Rebecca's interest was the object clutched in the girl's small hand.
"A balloon," he told her with a smile.
"Bal-loon," the feline repeated, sounding like she enjoyed how the word sounded. "What's it do?"
"Well, they are full of a special air that makes them float. See?"
"Why?" Rebecca wanted to know.
Splinter had to stop and think—something that had become a common occurrence of late. In her need to understand the world around her, the child-like mutant was constantly asking 'why' about things. Things adults like himself had grown to accept without question or thought. He found it a humbling experience to realize there were many 'whys' he did not know the answer to, or had ever bothered to wonder about.
"For entertainment," he finally answered. "Many people—especially young ones like yourself—consider balloons fun."
"Bal-loons are fun?" the white kitten asked eagerly. "Can Becky have one?"
"I suppose. I am sure Michelangelo has a few somewhere—but you had best wait until morning to ask him," he hastily added, as she started to bolt up.
Reluctantly she sat down again, eyes returning to the album in his lap. "You ought to be in bed at this hour," said Splinter gently.
Rebecca gave her head a firm shake before propping her chin on her knees. "Not sleepy."
The brightness of her blue eyes was proof of this. They moved from the picture of the girl and her balloon to the full-page photograph on the opposite page; a photograph of a beautiful carousel horse. The colors were very pale, almost black-and-white with a blueish tint, yet he could easily imagine the bright colors of the flowers carved into the horse's flowing mane, the polished brass of its spiral pole. The ribbons that coiled along its romance side were blue, one of the only distinct colors visible.
On the wooden prancer horse's back was a small girl of around five, her cherubic face framed with pale curls and her cheeks softly colored pink. The skirt of her lacy dress showed hints of movement as she tightly gripped the brass pole in both hands, her laughing smile clearly conveying her enjoyment as she rode her imaginary steed.
Rebecca's eyes were as curious as they were intent, but for once she didn't ask questions.
With an apologetic smile, Splinter shut the album. "Sleepy or not, you should be in bed."
"Becky just napped," the kitten protested, folding her arms and pouting.
Dr. Morris was trying to urge the young mutant into a regular sleep schedule, but convincing Rebecca to stay up all day and only sleep at night was proving difficult. Even if she wasn't feline, Splinter understood that she was young and needed her rest, which meant frequent naps throughout the day. He didn't mind her keeping unusual hours; his concern was her habit of roaming the lair alone while the rest of them slept.
"If you must stay up, at least remain in your bed with a book or a game," he coaxed. "I would hate for you to injure yourself while no one is watching."
Rebecca cocked her head and appeared to consider his words for a moment. "Okay," she finally agreed, using the expression she had learned from her 'big brothers.' Smiling, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Night, Papa."
"'Papa'?" he echoed in surprise.
The white kitten giggled as she hopped to her feet. "Turtles for big brothers and Splinter for Papa and Mama for Mama. My family."
She sounded proud about it—proud that she had a place and people to call her own, and that she had figured it out for herself. Splinter felt his heart warm as he watched her scamper away. It was rather unexpected how close they had become, considering the startling way they first met. But after his initial nervousness had faded he quickly saw how innocent and harmless she was. How sweet. It did his heart good to have someone as youthful as her around now that...
Approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up as someone came tiptoeing into his room. He had grown used to the odd schedules his sons now kept, how they came and went at all hours...though he didn't much like it. But he couldn't object; they were grown and independent now. It made his heart grow heavy each time he wondered how much longer it would be before they each followed Leonardo's example and left home, until none remained.
A mixture of light and shadow in the flickering candlelight, Raphael came and knelt before him. "We're not announcing it just yet," he said in a whisper, mindful of his brother's snores, "but Monalisa and I are engaged."
Splinter smiled his congratulations, even as his heart turned heavy again. "That is wonderful news, my son. Will the wedding soon follow?"
Raphael drummed his fingers on his knee as he thought it over. "Not sure yet. I'm supposed to get her a ring before we tell her parents—and she's not really ready to be away from them yet. We'll probably have the wedding as soon as she's ready to leave home."
"It is very thoughtful of you to be willing to wait."
His former student merely shrugged and smiled as he got to his feet. "She's more than worth it. Good night."
After he had gone, Splinter blew out each of the candles before lying back to sleep. It was only a few minutes later when he heard someone else moving outside his room; Donatello, finally coming home after leaving with Dr. Morris this morning. Judging by the way his steps seemed to drag, his spirits were much lower than his brother's.
Whatever was troubling him, he went directly to bed without coming to speak to his old sensei about it, even though Splinter sat up and waited for several minutes. With a quiet sigh, he lay back down again; it was rare for any of his sons to come to him for advice these days. They either turned to each other for counsel or handled their difficulties on their own.
It was a normal, natural part of their growing up, but he could not help but feel saddened. He was not looking forward to the day all four of them were gone and was very grateful that young Rebecca was now a part of his life.
Donatello didn't get any sleep that night and got up the next morning feeling overtired and cranky. Skipping breakfast, he retreated to the privacy of his lab, where he deliberately made more noise than necessary as he randomly tinkered for the next few hours. He didn't really accomplish anything; he just wanted to distract himself. When he didn't accomplish that either, he gave up and went to the kitchen—where he was surprised to see that Raphael was actually home for a change.
He was even more surprised to see Brynn sitting at the kitchen table with his brother, talking as if nothing unusual was going on—as if last night didn't end in tears for her.
"I didn't think I'd see you today," said Donatello, his surprise making him sound surlier than he'd meant to.
Brynn's casual expression faded as she looked at him. Her gray eyes were like ice. "I'm only here for the reason I always come. To care for Rebecca."
Raphael had no idea what was going on, but judging by the uncomfortable look that crossed his face, he was picking up the negativity that now permeated the room. He quickly pushed his chair back and stood. "I'm going to, uh..." He waved his hand vaguely. "Who cares?" he finished lamely, before practically running out of the kitchen.
The purple-clad turtle stayed where he was, watching the female scientist silently. He knew he should say something—anything—but he had no idea where to start. Just saying 'I'm sorry' didn't feel like enough. But he knew that standing there without saying a word was probably the worst thing he could do. So of course that was what he ended up doing.
Brynn got up and smoothed her skirt. "I have to work this morning and I've already seen Rebecca, so if there's nothing else that needs my attention..."
It was obvious by the way she paused, her frosty eyes almost expectant as she waited, that she was giving him the chance to speak up. The only thing he managed was a mute shrug.
Head held high, Brynn brushed past him and left. With a tired sigh, Donatello left the kitchen and went to Splinter's room. Kneeling on the tatami floor, he mumbled, "I have a problem."
He would almost swear Splinter looked eager as he put his book down and focused all his attention on him. "What sort of problem?" he questioned.
"Well..."
Donatello hemmed and hawed for a second or two before he finally admitted, face warming, "It's girl trouble."
Splinter went quiet for a minute, whiskers twitching. "I see," he finally said. "I am afraid this is not an area I know much about, but if you tell me what happened, I will do my best to help."
As he remembered the direction things had been going last night, the reptilian scientist's face warmed until he was sure he was blushing to the top of his head. There was no way he was going to go into detail, so after fidgeting and considering his words carefully for several long moments, he said, "It's Brynn. I'm really starting to care about her—and I think she cares about me, too."
"That is good," said Splinter softly, with a smile that almost seemed sad. "What is the trouble?"
Donatello sighed heavily and fidgeted again. "Well, we spent a lot of time together yesterday. We had dinner together, and then we talked, and then...I can't really explain what happened. I've never had someone act like they're interested in me before and I ended up responding in the worst way possible. I got really defensive and said some things I shouldn't have. Rude things—really rude. I made her cry."
His own eyes stung a little as he pictured Brynn hiding her face behind her hand as she sobbed. "I wanted to say I was sorry right away but she didn't want to hear it at the time. She was ready to hear it today, I think, but...I didn't know how to start. So I didn't say anything at all and she left."
Heaving another sigh, he shrugged his shoulders, completely at a loss over what to do now. Splinter was quiet for several minutes, eyes closed, and Donatello could tell by the way his forehead had drawn together a little that he was in deep thought. "I cannot say that your reaction surprises me," he murmured. "You have each been treated unfairly many times and you each find your own way to cope. The guard you have in place is harder than that of your brothers. While it is not my place to advise you on how to proceed regarding your feelings for the young lady, I will say that it is best for you to apologize to her yourself."
His dark, kind eyes opened as he smiled softly. "However, if finding a place to begin is the trouble, I would be happy to speak to her on your behalf first."
Relief filled the young turtle's heart; if Splinter explained to Brynn why he acted the way he did, this would turn out so much better. "Will you? That would be great."
