A Ninja's Dance
Chapter 28
He was dying.
It was an astoundingly clear thought that pierced through the fog in his head, hitting like a freight train and scaring him so badly he couldn't scream or cry hard enough to make the fear stop eating him up.
He stumbled against the wall as the world spun so hard and fast he couldn't figure out which way was up in time to stop his stomach heaving.
Black goo, thick like molasses slimed up his throat from somewhere deep inside and splattered onto the pavement.
He moaned and slumped, his legs failing completely as the alley kept spinning. It made it easier to breathe though, just to stop and not move anymore. Despite the easing on his chest he knew this was just the next step to his body giving up.
But he was sitting now, staring up through the lines of washing strung from building to building and the fog quickly made him forget that he was dying. He could see the sky and it was nice and cool out here, better than the waiting rooms at the pharmaceutical clinic.
He was glad he'd decided to take a walk.
But now he needed to get home. His son was staying with him this weekend and the apartment was still a mess. He'd have plenty of money once he cashed his cheque for the clinical trials to afford him enough time to get a good job and still put some towards a wonderful Christmas for his little one.
His head lolled and he was staring down at his hands. He didn't recognise them. They were too thin to be his hands. His ex-wife had always liked his hands but these weren't his hands. He laughed bitterly at the thought of that witch. Always ranting and raving and waving her arms about. They never should have gotten married, and now that they weren't anymore he was just sad that he hadn't gotten their son.
The breath puffing out in front of him curled in long misty coils, entrancing him. It shifted like smoke or steam. But it was strange to have his breath coming out like that. It was early autumn. That only happened in winter. Or was it winter now? How long had he been asleep? Or maybe awake?
He couldn't remember.
A deathly chill ran through him and he shivered, trying to pull his skeletal arms up to fend off the sudden cold. At least it wasn't snowing yet. They were in for a horrible snow fall this year. God only knew how he would start his car.
Wait, hadn't he sold his car?
A cough racked him, slipping more goop out of his throat from somewhere deep inside him that he didn't know existed. That new place twisted, clawed and cut away in his body and the burning started again. Like fire burrowing out of him through every limb and pore and fibre.
He screamed, choked on it, couldn't breathe and through the drooping fog he remembered…
He was dying.
Raph didn't sleep well. He wasn't fully convinced he'd actually slept at all but the humming glow of his bedside clock told him he'd lost an hour somewhere, so he must have.
9:36am.
He growled, rolling over and burying his head in his pillow in an attempt to ignore the little digital read out. He'd long ago decided that mornings were either something that happened to other people or you stayed awake specifically for, so nine in the morning was pushing it.
Except it wasn't anyone else keeping him awake, he just couldn't sleep.
This shouldn't really have been surprising after the night everyone had had, he kept thinking in circles, re-thinking and over-thinking everything and anything that came to him.
It was infuriating.
Raph mused that this must be how Donnie felt sometimes when he got really into a project and refused to sleep until he was satisfied. Cept Donnie always seemed ok with it. For Raph this was sucking. Badly.
The aggravating thing was that it wasn't even the dead guy that kept his brain ticking over so fast he couldn't shut off. Of everything that had happened recently you would have thought that fresh dose of hell would have been what kept a turtle up. What with all the black goo and the smell that stuck to your sinuses almost as hard as the picture of the corpse clung to your memory.
But nah, dead people Raph could handle.
What he couldn't handle was the odd slump of Leo's shoulders on the rooftop. The strange quietness of his voice when he talked about the burning. His big brothers face had twisted up into an expression Raph had never seen before on him. Something that looked like pain and regret and horror all mushed together and slammed behind his best attempt at an 'everything is ok' mask.
Leo's mask had failed and Raph found himself suddenly on uneven footing.
He'd known something was wrong with Leo, there was a story Leo didn't want to tell lurking under the bottled up exterior that must have been bad. At first Raph's rage had stopped him caring too much about how bad it was, because he felt he and his brothers deserved an explanation as to why Leo hadn't come back.
But then the anger had ebbed, mainly due to the Winters Saga when Raph had nearly lost Leo to the Stone Generals and he'd managed to breathe through it despite it still being there. Like a swirling black pit that often threatened to consume him whole and lash out at their fearless leader.
The thing that no one understood, that Raph had never told anyone, was that none of that anger had anything to do with Leo suddenly arriving home and calling them all into line again like his good little soldiers.
No. The anger came from pain, and the pain was there because Raph had been sure Leo was dead.
When Leo had first left, he was sending letters back at least once a month. He would write pages and pages each time, including pictures from the old Polaroid camera Donnie had given him. When he ran out of film for the camera the letters got longer as he painstakingly described the area's he visited, the places he'd been.
Then all of a sudden the letters just…stopped.
They waited, everyone thinking at first that it must have gotten lost somewhere in the mail, then they thought that maybe Leo was on a ship or too far out to get to a post office. They kept waiting. The letters never came.
It took a year, but one day Raph woke up with a sick feeling deep in his stomach and his eyes burning. A horrible realisation hit him and with a strange finality he knew that Leonardo was probably dead.
He hadn't said it out loud, he hadn't told his brothers what he thought. He'd gone out, stolen more hard liquor than he'd ever laid eyes on before and gotten completely hammered in one of the abandoned water towers. He'd screamed, cried, broken things, screamed some more and in the morning when he was starting to feel nauseous from the booze he'd noted sourly that everything had settled into numbness.
He'd let the numbness and indifference stay, because it was better than the pain.
He got angry when someone brought up Leo in the present tense, raged when everyone talked about him coming back. Because Leo wasn't coming back and the sooner they accepted it the sooner they could…
Could what?
Weeks passed and the gnawing void between him and everyone else got bigger until they stopped trying to talk to him altogether. He took down criminals as The Nightwatcher, distracting himself by planting knuckles in thug's faces and stringing people up like Batman. It took his mind off it, made him feel better.
Then one night, out of the blue there he was, standing before their father requesting forgiveness for his absence.
Leo was back. The prodigal son had returned.
At first Raph had thought he was hallucinating, some sleep deprived slightly alcohol induced trick of the light that made Mikey or Don's mask look blue and their shells seem more scarred.
But it was him.
Raph had never hated his brother so much in all his life.
Because he'd mourned Leo. He'd cried for him. He'd been so convinced Leo would never abandon them that he had been sure his brother was dead. But there he was, so nonchalant about returning that all Raph got was a 'Hey' and a half smile when he was finally noticed in the doorway and…
No. No, it didn't matter now. None of that could matter now. Because all it had taken was one poorly masked facial expression on a rooftop and Raph had realised something horrible. He'd realised that in a way he had been right.
Part of Leo was dead.
Raph groaned, tossing the blankets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. This whole thing was a massive shit fight and he had no idea what to do about it, and since sleep was apparently not going to happen he might as well get up.
Stretching Raph hauled himself to his feet and dressed, pulling on his gear and mask before leaving his room and heading out into the dark lair.
He didn't expect anyone else to be awake, in fact he was hoping he was the only one up and moving so he could train his frustration and anxiety away before anyone noticed it. A free run topside in the waking hum of New York would do wonders to clear his head.
He made it all to the stairs before his hopes for solitude were squashed in the most pleasant way possible. Something smelt amazing.
Someone was in the kitchen cooking, the light blazing out into the dark and casting shadows. Based on the smell Raph was pretty damn sure it wasn't anyone he was related to, which only really left one possibility.
Rounding the corner Raph wound himself up into what he hoped looked like a happy-to-see-you posture. Despite his usual trend of venting his frustrations at people with general snarkyness he didn't feel particularly keen to heap it on Jay. She had enough shit to deal with.
"Morning Jay." He was lucky he said it before he set on eyes on her because the words just kind died off after that, turning into a confused frown.
She looked different.
It took him a bit to figure out why. She'd washed her hair. Tt was still a little wet but it was sitting smooth now, brushed to a healthy sheen and the new set of borrowed clothes fit her a little better too.
She had a set of earphones in and was singing along to whatever song was playing, swaying around to the music as she cooked. All of that was a nice change to the sickly girl she'd arrived as, but what got him, what really pulled him up short was the completely content smile on her face. It was a look he'd never seen on her before.
So Raph had successfully been stumped by two facial expressions in less than twenty four hours. This was baffling. He wasn't usually the highly observant type.
Jay got to the chorus of her song, singing a little louder and shaking her hips before doing a spin. Half way through it her eyes landed on him, her smile faltering for the briefest second before she stopped dead and her cheeks darkened.
"Raph!" She tugged an earphone out and did an odd little embarrassed laugh, smoothing her fingers through her hair. "Hi. Good morning. How…ah. How long have you been standing there?"
Raph chuckled, realised he was laughing and tried to choke it back.
"Not long." He assured, watching as Jay went from being pink to a red then laughed at herself right along with him. "An' good morning. Whatcha cookin'?"
Jay's eyes widened as she remembered whatever was in the pan was still sizzling and she jumped back to the stove.
"Well, I found eggs and potatoes so…Spanish potato tortilla." She flourished the spatula in her hand for emphasis to her creation, sticking out a hip and doing an odd move with her feet that reminded Raph of movies like 'Legend of Zorro'.
"Nice moves." Raph said with another chuckle, shaking his head and wandering over to the fridge. "I got no idea what a 'Spanish Potato' is, but if it tastes as good a' it smells I'm good. You want juice?" He pulled out the bottle of apple squash and set it on the table, getting halfway to the cupboard where they stored the glasses before he noticed the strange look on Jay's face as she stirred the potato's frying in the pan.
"What?" Raph tried to ignore the look as he filled two cups with juice, keeping his eyes on her as he brought one glass around for her to take. There was a dramatic pause as Jay chewed her lip through a quickly growing grin and shuffled her feet, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I danced." She said softly, taking the pan off the heat and scooping the crispy looking potatoes out onto a ready plate before she continued. "I mean really danced. Got all the way through my audition choreography." She let out a sudden, sharp bark of laughter that was a mix of shock and joy, shaking her head and accepting the offered glass of juice. "I really do have nice moves."
"No shit Jay? Really?" Raph's eyes instantly dropped to her legs as she rocked her weight back and forth on them. He was half expecting to see some magical change, some dramatic shift in the way the limbs looked that meant she was 100% healed.
Unsurprisingly that wasn't the case, they looked the same. He had to admit that she had good legs though, they looked tough enough to put a strong kick in someone's gut.
Jay let out a little laugh again and bounced on her toes, putting the saucepan back on the stove and dropping in diced garlic and onions.
"Yeah. Really. It was snowing and I just moved and it was…amazing. It was like coming back from a big black hole or something." She lent back on her heels and turned to him, looking so overjoyed it put a smile on Raphs face as well. "Does that make sense?"
Raph set his juice down and nodded, leaning on the bench and propping one fist on his hip.
"Yeh. I know what you mean." He grinned at her.
Then something…odd…happened.
One minute Jay was standing there, checking the pan of garlic and onion and smiling at him, the next he was being assaulted by something warm and squishy that smelt like vanilla.
The warm squishy thing was Jay, a fact that seemed obvious when his brain caught up enough to realise that she was hugging him. She'd tucked herself in under his chin, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing.
Raph cobbled together just enough emergency response brain power to return her impromptu hug with a pat on her back before she stepped away, grinning at him as though hugging a mutant turtle was nothing strange at all.
"Thank you Raph." She did an odd little half shrug, smile-nod thing and returned to the stove, leaving behind a startled turtle. "For everything you've done for me."
Raph kind of just stood there and defaulted to his usual response of grunting when he was too shell-shocked to say much else. Jay didn't seem to be offended by his lack of response, taking a sip of her juice and adding a whole bowl of whisked eggs to the pan before layering in the potatoes and turning the heat down.
"Didn't do that much." Raph finally managed to get out, frowning and crossing his arms over his plastron while his head did battle with the smushy through that hugs were nice. Hugs reminded him of warm, safe times. When he and his brothers were little and Master Splinter always hugged them goodnight before they piled into the mound of blankets that served as the universal bed.
Raph shook his head. It was too early in the morning for stupid gooey hug talk happy feelings.
"You kinda did." Jay was poking at the huge omelette in the pan with her spatula, not looking up as she spoke. "I mean apart from, you know, saving my life. Which is totally no big deal." She smiled sideways at him and rolled her eyes before her expression changed to something serious. "You brought me the biosites, Raph. Leo's got a good poker face but it was pretty obvious he wasn't happy about it; and as crazy-flipping out as I was at the time, Don seemed sort of pissed off when he realised I had them. Not a lot of people would go out on a limb like that for someone they didn't know."
Raph grunted again. "Yeah, well, people do stupid stuff when they give a shit." He muttered, shrugging. Jay shot him a brilliantly cheeky smile.
"Yes." She agreed, nodding. "Very stupid."
Raph was busy nodding along with her until he realised what had just been implied. He opened his mouth to be offended…ok, maybe not offended, just…irritated by her statement when she cut him off.
"I care about you guys too." She said simply.
Raph smiled, Jay smiled back and the two of them fell into an almost comfortable silence that was broken only by a dramatic yawn from a sleepy looking Mikey as he loped into the kitchen.
"Mornin' evy'ne." Mikey mumbled as he wandered over, continuing to yawn, sway and seemingly drift back to sleep on his feet. Jay glanced at him and snickered, removing the pan from the heat and setting a large plate on top of it.
"Morning Mikey." She said it without looking at him, carefully flipping the whole thing over so the plate was on the counter with the egg filled pan face down on it. With a deep breath and a careful movement Jay removed the pan, pulling it away and leaving a perfectly shaped thick omelette layered with potatoes.
"Mission accomplished! Spanish potato tortilla achieved!" She cheered, doing a little happy jig on the spot.
Mikey blinked, confused as to why the giant pan shaped omelette warranted such joy. Raph just laughed.
"You gonna be doing that all the time now you're legs fixed?" Raph asked, gesturing to Jay's feet, which hadn't stopped moving after her excited little shuffle. Jay grinned.
"Defiantly." She announced, setting the potato tortilla on the table and continuing her little dance, incorporating some goofy looking arm flailing.
Mikey continued to look confused until his brain caught up with the fact that Jay was dancing and apparently was going to be doing it on a 'fixed leg'.
Understanding blossomed.
"Holy Sewer Apples I get it!" He yelped out, his usual enthusiasm slamming through the dazed sleepiness. Raph raised an eyeridge at the sudden outburst and Jay had just enough time to look confused before she was literally picked up off her feet in a Mikey bear hug and spun around.
Raph tried not to snicker when she made an odd kind of squeaking, squealing noise in response that was a combination of ear-splitting and hilarious before she was set back on her feet by a still excited Mikey.
Jay's face split into a grin when she officially landed and she pushed her hair out of her face.
"Yeah. I'm pretty happy about it too." She said with a laugh.
"Does that mean we get to see you dance?" Mikey asked, eyes wide as he clasped his hands on her shoulders. Raph snorted. It was no secret that Mikey had been enthusiastic about the prospect of being able to see a 'real life professional dancer dance in real life'.
Despite her smile Jay looked a little surprised by the question.
"I…guess. Sure. If you want?"
Mikey did another cheer that demonstrated that indeed he did want that, before realisation dawned on him and he smacked his palm into his forehead.
"Wait, wait. You need music. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response he darted from the kitchen, disappearing into the lair faster than really should have been possible. Jay turned to look at Raph, who rolled his eyes through his smirk and shrugged.
"Hey, don' look at me hun. You're the one who said yes. All on you now."
Jay went to say something, possibly argue, but was cut off when a baffled Leonardo stepped into the kitchen, eyes still stuck on something over his shoulder out in the lair.
There was a crash from behind him and a very Michelangeloesque voice called out that everything was ok. It was hard to tell if that's what he said though, the voice was muffled by something most probably heavy.
"What…" Leo turned back to the other occupants in the kitchen, poking a thumb over his shoulder before he continued. "…was that all about?"
Raph just smiled in a disconcerting kind of way, feeling absolutely no need whatsoever to answer that.
Karai's scouts found the body before the police did. It was still warm when they got to it, though there was some confusion amongst her men as to just how long ago the corpse had become a corpse. Apparently the state of rigamortis clashed with the internal temperature, as each one offered a different time of death.
By all accounts with the flutter of new snow and the icy cold temperatures of the morning the dead man should have been an icicle very shortly after his passing, but while they debated that he had been dead for hours in the alleyway, his liver temperature suggested it had only been a matter of minutes.
This was most concerning.
Karai knew that despite her best efforts the Foot Clan were not the overreaching force of strength in the city any longer, but she still held a great deal of concerns for its wellbeing. After all, how could one build an empire in a city unable to support it?
After the Winters ordeal she had made it her business to know as much as there was to know about all facets of New York, not willing to be blindsided again by curses and supernatural threats she and her men were ill-equipped to deal with and determined not to be swept back into the political game her father had played so well.
She would not be caught unawares. No. Even with her limited resources she would not find herself outwitted if she could manage it.
Which is why the dead man was concerning.
Karai did not know why it was that her suspicions were alighted by the mangled sight of the dead man, but alighted they were and in the direction of her current…employer…
Hun.
The Purple Dragons had been spending a lot on money bringing important people into the country, people whose intelligence far out-stripped their scruples and morals. Scientists who made weapons that could be drawn in by breath and kill from the inside, and while the deplorable Miss Sara Black was tight lipped about Hun's intentions, a picture could be easily made from the puzzle pieces.
Hun was planning something that would make the city sick.
A sickness that may very well have to do with their current corpse, and the other dead man found by the police the night before in a dumpster.
Karai knew that whatever plans Hun was fabricating were most probably heinous and corrupt, but she also knew he had paid for the services of her organisation. They had made a deal, one she intended to fill. Though if she was honest with herself ever since the docks she had been less and less content with the decision she had made.
There were many a time when Leonardo could have killed her. Many a time then and many a times in all of their encounters, but he and his brothers had consistently shown mercy, kindness and an ever present faith that she would walk the honourable path. Her father had repaid them only in violence and murder.
Karai looked up from her perch at the roofs edge, examining the skyline and noting with mild disgust the rising skyscraper that was PD Pharmaceuticals that stood not ten blocks from here.
She was not her father, but she owed him this one last victory and from the ashes the Foot would rise as a true organisation of wealth, power and honour. Hun would realise his mistake for allowing such funds to stream back into the Foot Clan. They would find his weakness, find a way into the building that was his heart of operations and…wait…
Perhaps…
Yes.
Perhaps there was an easier way, perhaps there was a way to 'kill two birds with one stone' as the westerners would say. A way for the Foot Clan to take more than Huns money when the final deed was done and the Turtles were dead.
It would be difficult, difficult to carry out but the work of a true ninja if successful. Karai smiled for the first time in what felt much to her like an eternity and slipped back from the roofs edge, melding into the rising shadows of the day.
A plan was taking shape.
And she felt so much better for it.
Hamoto Splinter woke to the booming sound of 'Song 2'by Blur.
His knowledge of the songs title was due to the copious times it had been played since its release in the Hamato household. While it was not the most pleasant way to be woken (he would have preferred soft chimes or the sound of rain) it did allow his still agile mind to draw many important conclusions.
Firstly, he knew that this song was Michelangelo's favourite, which meant the young man was awake. Secondly, Michelangelo was content to play the song loud enough to shake the lair with its volume. This meant that either the elder children were still asleep, thus not present to protest, or everyone was in a pleasant enough mood to acquiesce to their youngest brother's request.
Splinter waited several moments for any sort of screaming, shouting, shattering of plates or exceptionally loud declarations of vengeance to be issued before he confirmed that his youngest boy must have coerced his brothers into allowing him to play his music so deafeningly.
How he had done it. Well now that was still a mystery.
With a long stretch Hamato Splinter rightened himself from his futon, yawning and scratching an irritating spot behind his ear. The song continued to play as he walked to the decorative basin Miss O'Neil had brought back from one of her trips to Japan, filling it with water to wash his face and hands. He was very careful to completely dry his fur before dressing and sitting to wrap his feet with the clever insulated bindings Donatello had made for him.
He greatly appreciated his son's consideration for the temperature of his feet.
Before leaving his room Splinter knelt before the image of his Master Yoshi, offering a prayer as he lit a stick of incense and placed it carefully in the small bowl of sand beneath the picture. The incense filled his space with warmth as the smell rose, blanketing and curling around him. With a slow exhale he asked the heavens to provide him strength to overcome whatever trials today would see fit to give him before bowing his head in silent thanks.
Then it was out and into the fray Splinter went, walking stick in hand.
The music had changed. He did not know the name of this song but it sounded far more 'pop' than 'rock' and he was further confused as to how Michelangelo had cajoled his brothers so effectively into playing music they did not usually like.
Further investigation revealed that the ruckus was coming from the kitchen, not surprising considering the kitchen had always been a communal gathering place for all manner of sibling rivalries, planning sessions and family meetings. What was surprising was the smell that drifted through the air; a cacophony of onion, garlic, fresh cracked pepper and perfectly cooked eggs that wafted and floated, doing battle for Splinters attention against the sharp thumps of music.
He did so wish that his sons would not play the music quite this loudly. It made it hard for him to see with more than just his eyes. His senses became befuddled when such a loud noise drummed into his mind and refused to allow the more important smells, vibrations and sounds to enhance the darkened image behind his eyes.
Because of his dampened senses it was not until he rounded the corner into the kitchen that many of this morning curiosities were answered. He had been right to assume Michelangelo did not have the persuasive power to keep his brothers listening to all kinds of music they did not particularly enjoy.
A young woman however…
Hamato Splinter watched the scene before him with a mix of enjoyment and bemusement, trying to keep his chuckling quiet so as not to disturb the mood.
It appeared that young Miss Judith had made breakfast. She was struggling through the process of serving up plates for Michelangelo, Raphael and Leonardo while simultaneously attempting to dance some very complicated steps.
Michelangelo was trying to mimic her, figuring out the basics before maiming them terribly with his own exciting interpretation. That was not so unusual. Michelangelo was enthusiastic about movement thus liked to learn new ways to 'shake his shell'.
What was unusual was that Splinters two older boys were in fact present and joining in. Certainly not to the extent of their younger brother, and thankfully for Leonardo's injury the eldest was limiting his involvement to clapping along in time with the new song and laughing; but Raphael was certainly 'cutting a rug' as one would say.
He was quite good in fact.
This was not a side of Raphael or Leonardo that Splinter had seen in a while, and it pleased him greatly.
"Good morning my sons. Miss Judith." As he had feared it would, the whole room went deathly still when he announced his presence, Michelangelo stopping comically midway through what may have been a high kick and nearly falling over when he forgot to restabilise himself with both feet on the ground.
Leonardo looked like a child about to be scolded for having his hand in the cookie jar as he turned the music down to a far more appropriate level on the little stereo and Raphael was going a peculiar shade of deep green.
Hamato Splinter pursed his lips in a valiant attempt not to laugh. Judith looked around at the boys, seeming confused by their reaction before she turned a shining smile on Splinter.
"Good morning, sir."
Splinter smiled back at her, enjoying the way her voice became a staccato chirp that flittered and jumped in the air when she was so obviously joyful. He had not said as much, but he had quickly taken a liking to her accent. Aside from her habit of cutting the 'r' off the ends of words like water, border, shorter…well extensively everything ending in 'r', the Australian twang to her words was not so aggressive as many of the Australian actors he had seen in his stories.
It was not unpleasant in the least.
"It fills me with joy to see you all so lively this morning." He mused, stepping past a grinning Michelangelo and no longer being able to stifle a chuckle at Raphael's attempts to look everywhere but at his father. "You must have all had a good night's rest then?"
Without the thrum of the music the kitchen became much easier to see and Splinter sighed into the new sensations. He smelt the food, warm and rich and just the slightest bit sweet. Could hear the hearts beating in the room just a little bit faster than they should whether from embarrassment or excursion. He found and familiarised himself with the scent of the young woman, pleased that he could no longer detect the smell of rot, drying blood or sickness on her person. Instead just a soft joining of vanilla and something faintly metallic.
His sons all muttered a series of formal 'yes sensei's' at his question of rest, though Michelangelo defaulted to his usual 'yeah, totally', which was amusing as always. It was Judith who struck up a conversation in response, her energy shivering at the lack of notable noise besides the now soft stereo.
It seemed she did not like what she perceived as 'awkward silences'
"Oddly enough I didn't sleep much. I dropped like a stone at about seven thirty and woke up at nine feeling like I'd slept all night. It was weird."
There was a soft clink-clunk as she set down plates of food before his sons, placing an extra one at the head of the table that Splinter noted must have been for him as it was quickly accompanied with his teapot. Raphael stirred from the haze caused by the thumping blood in his cheeks to fill and turn on the kettle.
"That is strange." Splinter conceded, accepting the chair Judith pulled out for him with a slight bow of his head. "Does it concern you?"
Judith did not seem concerned to him. She seemed like a humming bird ready to take flight, full to the brim with energy.
"Ah…not really. I didn't think about it too much, I figure it's just the excitement. I'll probably get to midday and fall flat on my face." She laughed, a noise that rippled through the room and was bounced back with similar mirth from Michelangelo.
"Perhaps you should ask Don to do another scan?" Leonardo offered, taking a bite of his breakfast with a clink of his fork.
Despite his best attempt at sounding casual Splinter could feel the concern from his eldest. It was a desire to see Judith fit and well, something Splinter had noted all of his sons shared for the girl.
He supposed that meant Judith was now part of their circle, as his sons reacted to her in a similar way that they did to Miss O'Neil, Leatherhead and the numerous other friends the Hamato's had been blessed with.
"That necessary?" Raphael asked, filling the teapot sitting before Splinter with hot water. The smell of the tea popped like fireworks as the heat collided with the leaves, sending vines of the spiced sweetness into the air where it shivered and tumbled. Splinter inhaled the scent deeply, listening to the conversation with interest.
"Hopefully not." Judith chuckled, taking a seat by Michelangelo and digging into her plate. "But better safe than sorry right? I'll ask Don when he gets up."
Michelangelo paused, frowned and started talking with his mouth full.
"Where is Don anyway?"
Splinter flicked his tail out and caught Michelangelo on the ankle under the table. His son yelped, then apologised through a still full mouth of food. Another flick, another yelp and Michelangelo swallowed before his next apology. Judith snickered along with Raphael and Leonardo before she answered the posed question.
"Probably still asleep. Well, I hope still asleep. Your brother doesn't get enough sleep." She waved her fork around as she declared this, as though the eating utensil helped to accentuate her point.
"Coming from someone running on less than two hours?" Raphael shot back, sitting now and eating with just as much vigour as everyone else. He at least had the sense to observe Splinters single table manners rule.
No talking with your mouth full.
"Yes, and that should tell you something." Judith said plainly with a half-smile, pointing her fork at him.
Raphael smirked and battered the fork away with his own as though duelling before they both went back to eating, Raphael already close to finished.
"What it tells me is he's missing an awesome breakfast." Michelangelo announced, serving himself some more of the omelette. "Someone should go get him."
Judith shook her head and made a little noise of disagreement.
"Can't we let him sleep a little longer?" She asked the table at large, looking to each brother in turn before her eyes lingered on Splinter. "I mean he's been up all night putting me back together again, he deserves a break."
Splinters frowned at her appeal, confused at the meaning behind the last of her words. He hear the displeasure and anger rolled together into one emotion that conflicted with a sense of forgiveness and joy. It was most disconcerting and the feeling made his whiskers twitch.
Leonardo, however, was the one who broached the question Splinter had been about to ask.
"What do you mean 'putting you back together again'?" He muttered, fork halfway to his mouth.
Judith hesitated, glancing at Leonardo before shrugging and staring at her food, shifting it about with her fork for a time before she answered.
"…I saw the files on his computer about me." She said softly. "I was pretty upset." Another shrug and Splinter frowned at the disbelief and horror that rose from his boys like tendrils. There was a shot of deathly quiet before they all started talking at once.
"Jay…"
"Shit, we…"
"We're so sorry"
Judith held up a hand to stop the flood of concern, shaking her head and laughing a stiff laugh.
"It's ok. Really, guys. It's ok." She assured, her voice firming. There was a sudden change in her tone, a slight shift as she reaffirmed herself. "I..I get it."
The table fell into silence, all of Splinters sons looking both surprised and cautiously relieved.
"That is very kind of you Miss Judith." Splinter said when no one else spoke again, pouring himself a cup of tea and sipping the scorching liquid. He had been made well aware of the file Donatello had compiled on their young house guest. Her knowing of it was not what any of them intended, but Splinter was grateful for her discovery. To find out the way she had and still show such acceptance and understanding was a mark of her character.
He took up his fork and cut away a piece of the omelette on his plate, chewing on it meditatively and relishing the subtlety of flavour that worked across his tongue. Judith was a good cook, the Spaghetti Bolognese the night before had been equally scrumptious. The hints of its rich meatiness still lingered in the air of the kitchen, making it feel warm and content.
"Not really." Judith was shaking her head as she played with her food. In Splinters opinion it would be a sad waste of such delightful taste if she did not eventually consume what she was pushing around with her fork. She shrugged, opting to sip at the cup of juice by her plate before she continued speaking. "I don't like it, but, I mean it makes sense. You need to protect yourselves."
"Yes but, Jay, we would all understand if you were angry about it, it can make sense but it's still a violation of your privacy." Leonardo was sitting forward, his eyes on the Judith as she fidgeted in her chair.
Splinter came to the realisation seemed the more attention was drawn to the issue and the more it was discussed, the more displeased she became about it.
Perhaps she did not wish to discuss the matter any further.
"It is still difficult, such a personal intrusion." Splinter agreed with Leonardo, taking another sip of his tea and sighing at the aromatic pleasure of it. "To understand is a kindness no one should overlook. You have our thanks Miss Judith." He set his tea cup down with a soft 'clink', signalling the end of this particular conversation.
"No problems, sir." Judith relaxed and smiled just a little, finally taking another bite of her breakfast. Splinter nodded, matching her smile.
"You do not need to call me Sir. You may call me Splinter if you wish." Sir was an interesting honorific, one that he had never had attached to himself before. He did not consider his name with the phrase 'Sir' though he knew all too well that it was a mark of respect. Donatello had informed him that her family was substantively military based, which may account for the use of the title.
He hoped, however, that she would not feel pressed into addressing him as such simply because of his position as head of the family.
"Thank you, Splinter." Judith looked conflicted by his allowance but smiled none the less, using his name for the first time since she had arrived in their home.
His ears twitched. It seemed she did indeed forget the 'r' on the end of his name as well, making it sound like 'Splin-ta'. It was somewhat amusing.
"This meal is delicious Miss Judith." Splinter changed the subject as he finished another delectable mouthful. "I'm sure my sons will appreciate the extra nourishment before their morning training."
The collective groan from Raphael and Michelangelo made him smile despite himself as he took his last forkful of the fluffy, crunchy, sweet and salty slice of breakfast. Michelangelo was making a face not unlike someone who had just swallowed something sour as he drummed his fingers on the table a few times. Then something occurred to him and his demeanour brightened.
"…Shouldn't we wait till Don is up?" He broached hopefully, sitting up a little straighter. Raphael snorted, finishing up the last of his plate and sitting back in his chair but making no comment.
Splinter shook his head, his tail flicking back and forth beneath the table.
"I believe Miss Judith's concerns are valid, Donatello shall rest this morning and make up the training in the evening with added meditation and kata forms." He said simply, nodding to himself. Michelangelo went to argue, but Splinter held up a hand to silence him, the decision having been made.
The table was silent for a moment, Michelangelo stuffing the rest of his breakfast in his mouth before Leonardo spoke up.
"Sensei, may I train today?" He sounded so determined, and while Splinter admired that strength in his son, it also concerned him. Not being able to stop that drive when it needed to stop could do more damage than good.
"I believe rest would do you well also Leonardo." He knew his decision would not be received well and sure enough Leonardo went to argue almost immediately, the boy radiating displeasure.
"But father…"
Splinter placed a hand on Leonardo's shoulder and shook his head.
"Allow yourself one more day. Then we shall see." He patted his boy on the arm before taking up his tea cup once more. Leonardo did not argue, sighing in disappointment but relenting.
"Yes sensei." He nodded. "Then, while Mikey and Raph are warming up I would like to fill you in on last night's patrol." He was resolute in this and both Michelangelo and Raphael went suddenly very still. The smell of his tea was not enough to stifle the sudden change in the the room, like a pang of fear and anger that permeated fast and fierce.
Splinter was glad he had asked the heavens for strength today. He was quite sure he was not going to like the story Leonardo was going to tell.
"Very well." Splinter nodded, inhaling through his nose and drinking in everything he could.
Judith was looking confused but must have made the decision not to comment, just raise an eyebrow at Michelangelo as he stood from the table and quickly gathered up the empty plates, leaving them in the sink to be washed later.
Michelangelo noticed her pressing gaze and shook his head, mouthing the words 'I'll tell you later' and ignoring the sideways glances from Raphael and Leonardo who, Splinter realised, did not think telling Judith was a good idea.
Master Yoshi lend him the wisdom to deal with whatever he would soon be told.
Splinter finished his tea, scratching at the renewed irritating spot behind his ear before standing from the table and tapping his walking stick to the ground.
"We shall begin." He announced, waiting for his sons to stand so they could make their way to the Dojo. Judith watched them all, chewing on her lip before she piped up with the question Splinter could sense was bubbling below the surface.
"Would it…would it be ok if I watched?" There was a dramatic pause in the room as the boys first turned to stare at Judith, before they cast their eyes to Splinter, who tapped his fingers on the head of his walking stick.
Judith glanced around before trying to explain. "I've never seen ninja's train before." She said simply, then frowned. Splinter guessed that her reasoning sounded more suitable in her head then it did coming out of her mouth. He tried not to chuckle at the odd look that took over her face, a slight disbelief at her own words blanketing her.
Michelangelo, however, grinned so widely Splinter was sure his face would split, which he took to mean his youngest son liked the idea. A quick twitch of his ear to Leonardo and Raphael gave him a unanimous answer to Judith's question.
"If you wish." Splinter conceded with a nod. "Though I must ask you to remain as quiet as you can while my sons concentrate."
Judith nodded, standing quickly and smiling. "Of course. Like a mouse."
Michelangelo pumped his fist in the air, whooping at the prospect of having a spectator for the training session.
"Let's go then!" He enthused, looping an arm around Judith's shoulder and giving her a thumbs up. She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she was let go and Michelangelo strode out of the kitchen, his brothers following.
Splinter chuckled. "Perhaps, Miss Judith, I shall request your presence at training more often." He said as he followed his sons, Judith catching up once she'd turned off the little stereo.
"Why is that?" She asked, trying not to laugh as Michelangelo started trying to repeat the steps Judith had been doing earlier in the kitchen.
"This is the most enthusiastic I have seen Michelangelo about training since…well, since I used pizza as an incentive." Splinter explained with a smile. He was rather sad to leave the warmth and comfort of the kitchen on such a cold morning, but the familiar vibrancy of the Dojo beckoned, calling to be renewed with energy.
"Bribery?" Judith asked, raising an eyebrow.
Splinter chucked, his old eyes flinching just slightly as Leonardo turned on the remaining lights in the lair.
"Miss Judith, bribery is the glue that has held parents and teenagers together for years." He explained, tapping his walking stick against the stone ground and using the reverberations to orientate himself more firmly in the new light. "And as the ancient Japanese proverb says…"
Here he paused, holding up a long finger and smiling. "'Do not fight tradition'."
Authors Notes: I...dislike this chapter? Maybe? Oh, I don't know. I've worked and reworked it so many times I feel like there's something wrong with it but at the same time I like it because of bits and pieces and this is such a massive run on sentence baaaaahhhhh.
Edit: Also thought it was worth mentioning that rats traditionally have very poor sight and their eyes don't block light particularly well. They rely heavily on their other senses to get around. For me I have always assumed Master Splinters ability to 'sense' things came from his hyper attuned hearing, smell and touch. That's why he is written the way he is with reference to how people smell/feel/sound. Just a heads up. :)
Also another note. I have noticed that I make stupid grammatical errors sometimes. Please, please, please let me know when you see them. They are frustrating and they urk me. Thank you to Treeni for pointing some out!
Anyway. Please read and review, it makes me smile.
