Hey all, wow this chapter sure took a long time to get written, but it is nice and extra long, so I hope you all enjoy:) And great news! Stuff happens in this chapter!;)
As always a giant thank you to all of my amazing readers and to Diana Fay. Turtlelover567, ninjaforever89, lauraliath, Imparting Abyss, Anime Dreama, Babbles B, Name goes here, Anifares, Leather Leaf, I love kittens too, SleepingSeeker, Cocoagirl27707 and Bubbly Shell22 for taking the time to write amazing reviews!
Also a giant thank you to everyone who voted for this story in the Adult Fanfiction awards, it won first place for most literal Leo, tied for first place for most riveting Raph, and tied for second for most romantic. Thank you all so much!XD
Also a huge thank you to Marie Allen who beta read this chapter for me at lightning speed, thank you sooo much! You are beyond awesome:D
Chapter 36
Raphael's eyes scanned the page apprehensively, a strange, riotous, sinking feeling in his gut as his eyes devoured the dialogue in front of him.
"She was mine. Catríona was my betrothed and you tried to take her from me," Gabriel accused.
"I loved her more than anything," Lucifer snarled, digging the blade deeper into Gabriel's back.
"I knew her first, Luce. I loved her first," Gabriel gasped, wincing in pain. "She loved me first."
Raphael closed the comic book, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't read anymore. It was as if the Raven had taken his life and brought it to life upon the page, with him cast as Lucifer -the devil himself- and Leonardo -his perfect older brother- as the Archangel Gabriel.
Of course, this was impossible. For one: he didn't know the Raven, and for two: Raphael had only admitted to himself that he was in love with Catherine three days ago when he had went off on her after kissing her breathless and then decided to go let off some steam and had gotten himself shot.
At this thought his stitches began to itch and the feeling of his skin crawling alerted him to why he was reading the comic in the first place; to take his mind off of these two irritating physical afflictions.
Unable to help himself he opened the comic again and continued to read.
"That may well have been true," Lucifer acknowledged, "but I was a thief, Gabe, I stole things. And if her heart had been wholly given to you, then there would have been nothing left for me to steal."
"Ouch," Raphael commented out loud and quickly glanced over at where Donatello was busily typing on his keyboard, his eyes still fixed upon the computer screen in front of him.
Turning back to the comic Raphael gave a yawn, wondering if it was the pain medication making him sleepy or just his body attempting to heal.
He shifted carefully into a more comfortable position and continued to read.
"Why don't you just kill me already, Luce?"Gabriel asked in a strained whisper.
"I'm not going to kill you, Gabe, I can't."
"Why not?" Gabriel asked desperately. "I have been spying on you for Heaven for millennia. You blamed me for Catríona's death; I dared to love the same woman as you; I fight against the darkness of your Legions; I do everything in my power to stop your plans of revenge, so why do I still live?"
"Because," Lucifer answered, his voice pained, "you are the only one, of all of the angels, demons, devils and deities that exist on this world, who knows the sublime splendor of loving and having been loved by Catríona and the devastating, soul shattering agony of losing her. You would have forsaken Heaven and Fallen for her, Gabe." Lucifer paused a moment before continuing. "And besides, she loved you. I could never destroy anyone or anything that she loved. And I suppose, brother of mine, the truth is that after all this time, I consider you the closest thing I have to a friend."
Gabriel spoke after a moment. "And if you had found her?" he wondered. "If you found her soul in Heaven, in Hell, or in some pagan underworld, then what?"
"I would have let her go," Lucifer answered softly. "I know what I am, Gabriel. I am a monster. I am the Devil. I am the most hated and reviled creature on this world. I would only sully her light with my darkness. My only wish would be for her to be happy, wherever she was."
Raphael stared at the page for a moment and he swore that the words actually made his heart hurt. He gritted his teeth in annoyance. "Stupid comic. Stupid Raven," he growled under his breath. The Devil was the bad guy, he was evil. And here Raphael was, sympathizing with the guy. Raphael gave a smirk, cue the Rolling Stones 'Sympathy for the Devil' montage.
Yawning again he forced himself to continue reading. Lucifer killed Gabriel, returning the archangel to Heaven while he sought out his Queen; the woman who he had married because the human she had been pretending to be had reminded Lucifer of his lost love, only to find that he had bound himself eternally to a creature with no memory, but more powerful than any he had ever encountered. And on the eve of Lucifer's invasion of Heaven, his Queen had regained her lost memory and decimated Hell's Legions. Lucifer and Gabriel nearly lost their lives, but both being cognisant of one very important revelation. Lucifer's Queen unsheathed a sword so bright and pure it seemed to have been created with capture light. But the pulse, the very energy of it, was not simple wavelengths or bands of colour, it was instead the radiant brightness of a soul; Catríona's soul.
Raphael hoped that Harbinger would kick Lucifer's ass when he confronted her because he deserved it. Sadly, it was the other way around, Harbinger no match for the Devil. And as Harbinger lay in a pool of her own blood, Lucifer demanding to know how she had come into possession of his beloved's soul, Harbinger explained that no soul was in the sword, but that the sword was the soul; her soul.
And Raphael felt his mind skitter to a halt as he stared at the page in confusion. Harbinger was Lucifer's Queen but had also been Catríona. Raphael still had no idea how this was possible or even what Harbinger was, but it was obvious that she was dying. Lucifer begged her not to die, that he would find a way to heal her wounds, but Harbinger explained that it was not only the injuries that he had inflicted, but that her sword, her soul, had begun to flicker over the past weeks and that she already knew she was dying, something she had hidden from Gabriel.
Raphael flipped the page. Harbinger looking over Lucifer's shoulder at a shape darker than the surrounding shadows. Tattered grey wings stretched out as Death stood in watchful observance of the frozen tableau in front of him...
Raphael looked down at the woman laying upon the ground, focusing upon her battered, bloody and tear streaked face.
"Catherine?" he asked in horror, blood bubbling up from between her lips as she tried to say something, but couldn't speak because she was drowning in her own blood.
"No," Raphael shook his head in horror; his sai sticking out from where he had plunged it through her chest.
"Raph! W-what have you done!" Leonardo fell to his knees beside Catherine, lifting her into his arms, tears of agony streaking down his pale cheeks, accusation, revulsion and hatred in his eyes.
Catherine reached a shaky hand up towards Leonardo's cheek in a loving gesture, but it suddenly fell, striking the ground beside her, her eyes going blank and holding nothing except death within their once brilliant green depths.
"You killed her," Leonardo accused him, fury and despair filling his eyes and causing his voice to crack with anguish. "You're nothing but a MONSTER!"
"NO!" Raphael sat bolt upright with a gasp, his stiff muscles and his stitches all fiercely protesting the sudden movement. Clutching at his torso he let out a soft yelp of pain as he released a slow breath, trying to get his breathing and heartbeat under some kind of control.
There was a sudden fluttering thwapt sound as the Harbinger comic he had been reading slid from his lap and onto the floor.
"Raph, are you okay?" Donatello's concerned voice asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he growled under his breath.
Donatello walked over to him from where he had been sitting at his computer desk, the clakity-clack typing of his brother's fingers on the keyboard having lulled him into a very brief, dream filled sleep where the Harbinger comic had come alive within his mind to a certain extent and he had killed Catherine. The image of her pleading face looking up at him was seared into his brain as if it had been burned there by a red-hot poker.
"I can give you another dose of-"
"NO!" Raphael interrupted sharply. "No, I'm good, Donny, thanks," he said trying to make up for his outburst. The pain medication Donatello had given him yesterday had knocked him out completely, but for some reason he seemed to remember spouting off some inappropriate things; though he wasn't sure if he had or if it had only been a dream. Donatello hadn't said anything to indicate one way or another and Raphael was not going to ask him. As for the drug Donatello had given him today, it seemed to give him strange dreams and caused his skin to crawl. He'd truthfully rather contend with his usual nightmares; at least they were familiar.
Donatello bit his lip looking down upon him while Raphael studiously ignored his brother's searching gaze.
"Did you have another nightmare?" Donatello asked gently, pulling up a chair and settling himself into it.
Raphael gave his brother a glare that should have put him in retreat. Instead, Donatello merely gazed upon him, waiting for Raphael's reply.
"No," he growled.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Donatello question, completely ignoring Raphael's earlier assertion that he had not suffered a nightmare.
"No I don't wanna talk about it! Geez, Donny, get outta my face or I'm gonna walk my ass right outta here," he threatened, even though doing so would hurt him more than it would his brother.
"Okay, Raph," Donatello said holding up his hands in surrender as he stood and walked back to his computer, sitting back down in the chair and turning his attention back to the screen.
Raphael's eyes closed with exhaustion, but he didn't want to sleep. Catherine's face still haunted him and for some reason that completely beyond him, he had the strong urge to call her up and make sure she was okay. It was ridiculous of course. It was just a nightmare. If anything had happened to Catherine he would know...wouldn't he?
Raphael swallowed. Neither Catherine nor Elizabeth were under surveillance from them anymore and they hadn't heard anything from Catherine since Friday night.
Of course, this feeling of worry mixed with heavy unease only grew at Casey's continued absence and the fact that his friend was blowing him off. He'd called Casey twice and both times his friend had told him that he was busy, but would stop by when he had the time. This was fine he supposed, although he was secretly hurt that he had nearly died and his friend hadn't troubled himself to visit -not that he's ever admit this to Casey or aloud- but still. The behaviour was so unusual that Raphael wondered if something had happened the night he had been shot, besides taking a bullet and not remembering anything afterwards.
"Hey, Donny?" he inquired softly.
Donatello stopped typing and gave him his full attention. "Yeah?"
"How was Casey when he brought me in?" he asked hesitantly.
Donatello leaned back in his computer chair, his face thoughtful. "Terrified, and sick with worry," Donatello finally answered.
Raphael gave a small nod.
"But Casey looked pretty worse for wear. I would have treated him if I had the time and if he hadn't left so quickly after your surgery. Whatever fight you got yourselves into, I'm guessing you were both on the losing end of it. Though...most of your injuries seemed to be the result of the gunshot. The laceration you sustained was the result of the plate tearing free and twisting."
Raphael looked at Donatello a moment, processing his brother's words. Donatello waited to see if Raphael was going to say anything more, and when he didn't, his brother turned his attention back to his task.
Raphael frowned in thought. He and Casey hadn't been losing the fight, they had been winning. The gang members had been in retreat until the one guy had pulled a gun. Casey had barely even taken a hit and neither had he.
Unfortunately, he couldn't remember anything that had happened after he had been shot. It was all a blank. He had been rendered unconscious by the shock of having his prosthetic plate torn off and he vaguely remembered Donatello telling him that he was going to be fine and that he had been hurt, but nothing more.
Suddenly Raphael felt the blood drain from his face as a horrifying thought struck him, causing his skin to prickle uncomfortably.
Was it possible? he wondered to himself. Had he been the one responsible for his friend's battered condition. Had he slipped into unconsciousness only to wake, trapped within the nightmarish confines of an violent episode? Had it been his fists and his weapons that were responsible for his friend's injuries?
And now, after making sure that Raphael was still alive and would recover, his friend was avoiding him because he was scared of him, angry with him, or worse, hated him.
The image of Catherine's battered face swam to the surface of his mind.
He hadn't...There was no possible way that he had inflicted the injuries upon Catherine that his mind continued to torment him with. Casey and Catherine didn't even know one another. It was all just a nightmare...wasn't it?
Catherine took one final look in the mirror and found herself pleased by what she saw. Gone were the stitches and bruises that had marred her face, replaced instead by her normal visage. This of course was not due to time, as only two days had passed since her trip to the hospital early Saturday morning, but instead, was owed to Elizabeth's friend Sabrina, and her miraculous talent with make-up.
Catherine did not want or need any unwanted distractions or questions today, and her face would have elicited both. And unfortunately, she had to move today.
After she had come home from the hospital she had slept and continued to sleep well into the next day. She hadn't wanted to, but it was a matter of necessity; that and she was pretty sure she wouldn't have been able to move even if she had wanted to. Later that same day she had made her way from her bed to the study and began to formulate a plan, because time was something she knew did not have much of.
She had played back within her mind the last conversation she had had with Leonardo on Friday night and had come to two conclusions. The first being that whatever was going to happen with Karai was going to be 'sorted out' within the next 'few days'; according to Leonardo. This put the time frame between three and six days from Friday. She had determined this because 'a few' was more than two and Leonardo hadn't said a week, so less than seven days. Going by this logic she knew that whatever was going to happen would take place between Monday and Thursday. As today was Monday, she figured it was as good a time as any to act. If she waited any longer she risked missing her window, and that could result in a fatal mistake.
The second conclusion she had come to was formed by Leonardo's reaction to her accusation of 'self sacrifice being its own form of selfishness'. His expression had turned from anger to startled fear -as if he believed that she had stumbled upon something that she was not supposed to know- before his expression shifted back to angry disbelief as she continued to talk; obviously relieving his sudden suspicion that she had discovered something.
This reaction hadn't made any sense to her except when she placed it in the context of her conversation with April, and the information she had gleaned from her about Karai. She could then only conclude that Leonardo strongly suspected that he was walking into some sort of trap he would not be walking away from, and that he had come to terms with this and was okay with this particular outcome as it would assuage the blood debt he felt he owed Karai.
This was of course only conjecture, but at this point, it was what she was going to base her actions upon.
Leonardo had been very clear about Karai never directly threatening Catherine or her sister, but put it at a pretty safe bet that Karai knew of them, evidenced by Leonardo's extreme reaction in his attempts to protect them.
But drawing upon the information she had gleaned from April regarding Karai's general character, Catherine strongly believed that Leonardo was so very wrong about Karai's intentions.
Taking her coat up from its position on the banister she sighed at its newly dyed pink colour, courtesy of having placed all of her bloody clothing in the wash -her white coat included- with Raphael's crimson mask still sitting in the coat pocket. Pink was not the ideal colour for this particular occasion, but decided she would have to make due; as her sister's leather jacket would be an even worse choice for the image she was attempting to convey.
Moving slowly, every bruise protesting and every stitch pulling and itching uncomfortably, she pulled on her jacket.
"Are you sure about this?" her sister asked dubiously, dragging Catherine from her chaotic thoughts.
"As sure as I can be," Catherine admitted truthfully looking over at her sister who was leaning against the entryway into the foyer where Catherine was currently standing. "I'll be back in a few hours. I want you to-"
"Yeah, yeah I know," Elizabeth murmured waving away Catherine's words. "Be careful. I got it."
Catherine gave her sister a smile. "Come on, Lizzy, cheer up, this will all be over soon."
Elizabeth scowled at her instead. "No," she stated petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You are confronting the biggest bad in all of New York with literally nothing but a hope and a prayer, and asking her to pretty please not kill us, or Leo."
"Well...technically, I think she only wants me dead," she offered.
Her sister glared at her. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she snapped, her voice raising an octave.
"No, but it's all I got."
"I. Don't. Like. It." Elizabeth stated emphatically.
"Lizzy..." Catherine pleaded.
"I know, I know, it's the only plan you could come up with. And I hate that I can't do anything to help."
"You are helping," Catherine mollified her sister. "You and Sabrina are in charge of my 'trump card'. And remember-"
"Yeah, yeah, timing is everything. Blah, blah, I got it."
Catherine gave her sister a reassuring smile, even though she wasn't as confident inwardly as she was presenting herself as being.
"Just don't get yourself killed," Elizabeth growled walking towards her and giving her a swift, careful hug.
"I'll try not to," she answered with a lopsided smile which caused her sister to roll her eyes.
Sabrina's raised voice came from the second floor. Elizabeth gave her a stern look which Catherine returned with one that exuded innocence and prudence.
Elizabeth only shook her head in exasperation. "What's in the folder anyway?" Elizabeth asked curiously as she walked through the foyer and placed a foot on the bottom stair, her hand upon the banister.
"Old documents," she answered easily.
"What kind of documents?"" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.
"Ones that I hope will help prove a point," she answered vaguely and was saved from having to go into further detail by Sabrina's petite, lithe form appearing at the top of the stairs, half dressed in a black suit and looking slightly frazzled. Her shoulder length, bright, curly, copper locks had been straightened to within an inch of their life and pulled into a tight ponytail at the base of her skull. Her blue-grey eyes were full of frustrated excitement and her freckles blended in with the bright flush of her cheeks.
"I canna tie this blasted thing," she complained in disgust indicating the black tie that encircled her throat in a lopsided tangle, her Scottish brogue thickening with her agitation so as to be nearly unintelligible.
Elizabeth went to the upper level to help Sabrina tie her tie and Catherine took this opportunity to leave. She quickly picked up the thick manila folder that rested upon the hallway table in the foyer and swiftly exited the Brownstone, closing the door behind her and pausing on the front stoop for a moment to gather her thoughts.
She leaned against the door and took a few steadying breaths. She shoved her hand in her pocket, pulling out her car keys, and accidently pulling out Raphael's mask with them.
Casey had called her this morning wondering when he should visit Raphael, as Raphael had already called him twice. She had explained that if Raphael wasn't demanding he get his ass to the lair to offer up an explanation for his behaviour, then it was still too soon.
Reluctantly Casey had agreed to delaying any trip to the lair and for this Catherine was thankful.
Her fingers teased the red fabric a moment, her eyes unseeing as her thoughts tumbled around in her head.
"One crisis at a time," she whispered to herself hoping she'd survive this one to make it to the next one.
Looking at the mask she found herself thinking of its owner and she felt something within her chest tighten and pull. Whatever the feeling, she was unfamiliar with it and she found it uncomfortable and slightly worrisome.
Writing it off as apprehension mixed with nerves she tucked Raphael's mask into her pocket, shoved all thoughts of him from her mind, and walked down the steps of the Brownstone to her vehicle.
Karai stared at the white paper coffee cup in front of her; the coffee black, bitter and growing cold as it sat upon the table of the patio bistro she was currently sitting at. It was just past the early morning rush and she was glad of the solitude. It was still a little chilly, but the last clawing remnants of winter were finally in retreat; the warmth of the late April spring finally taking a firm hold of the season and the sun brightly shinning overhead providing a soft heat that was only going to increase as the day wore on.
Karai reached out to take a sip of the nearly cold coffee in front of her, pausing and then pulling her hand away from the cup, letting it rest upon the table.
She didn't even understand why she was here. She didn't enjoy coffee, or quaint little bistros, but for the last few days she had been coming to the same one; one she had not visited in nearly two years.
And yet, sitting upon the cusp of her revenge finally coming to fruition, she felt unusually...nostalgic, would be the best way to describe her feelings.
This time when her hand reached out to take up the cup of coffee that sat in front of her, she brought it to her lips and sipped it. She grimaced in disgust as she put it back down upon the wooden tabletop. She let out a silent sigh and closed her eyes for a brief moment, knowing that she had much work to oversee in order to get all of the pieces in place for tomorrow night's big event.
In a little more than 24 hours from now her vengeance for her father's murder would be complete, and Leonardo...well, Leonardo would know her pain, would know what it was like to lose to death someone important, someone loved.
This thought should have brought a smile of malicious triumph to her lips, but it did not. Instead her awareness was focused upon the taste of bitter coffee upon her tongue and an emptiness in her heart which she hoped to fill with her attainment of her revenge.
A soft tap of something being placed upon the tabletop in front of her caused her eyes to snap open. She stared in shock at a white paper cup with a brown sleeve to stave off the burning heat of the cup's inner liquid sitting in front of her.
"It didn't look like you were enjoying your beverage," a feminine voice observed softly causing Karai's every sense to go on alert as she calmly shifted her gaze up the interloper who had disturbed her solitary reverie.
Leonardo's delicate Cherry Blossom, attired in a coat the same shade as her epithet, stood across the table from her. Catherine held a paper coffee cup with a lid in one hand hand, a thick manila folder clutched beneath her arm, her other hand resting upon the back of the chair as if she intended to pull the chair back and sit down.
Karai couldn't school her features quick enough, surprise briefly flashing across her features before her gaze shifted around the streets, searching every shadow, alleyway and rooftop for a familiar katana wielding silhouette.
Catherine's gaze followed her own as if wondering what she was looking for.
"Are you looking for Leonardo?" Catherine wondered as she pulled out the chair and seated herself at Karai's table, placing her coffee and the thick manila folder in front of her. "Because if you are, he isn't out there."
Karai's attention shifted back to the young woman in front of her after a few more moments of fruitless searching; finding nothing to indicate the woman before her was lying. "I do not believe I gave you permission to sit," Karai observed haughtily.
"That's why I didn't ask," Catherine answered meeting Karai's gaze levelly and giving her a bright smile as if it was the most natural and easy thing in the world to sit across from her lover's enemy.
Karai took Catherine's measure and found that it aligned with her earlier assumption of the woman's character. She was beautiful, but obviously had a deficiency of intelligence and an abundance of naive innocence. Catherine was just the type of woman that Karai could see Leonardo falling for; petite, pretty, helpless, stupid and filled with a syrupy sweet nature that made the muscles at the edges of her jaw ache -as if she had eaten something much too sugary.
"I didn't poison it," Catherine offered encouragingly, indicating the coffee cup in front of her, "if you were wondering. And I hope you like hot chocolate," she said as she raised her own cup indicating that Catherine had purchased a hot chocolate for herself as well.
Karai looked at the paper cup in front of her with something akin to distrust, disgust and a small amount of uneasiness which she couldn't quite explain.
She was surprised at Catherine's presence at the small bistro, but Karai was not unduly concerned. She had no bodyguards but did not need them anyway. And although Leonardo was a ninja, quiet assassination was not his style and Karai did not believe the woman in front of her had a murderous bone in her body.
Karai took up the beverage and gave it a tentative sip. The sweetness washed away the bitter aftertaste of coffee and she found it to be pleasant. When was the last time I drank hot chocolate? she wondered to herself before remembering her present company.
"Have you come to beg for the life of your lover?" Karai asked with idle curiosity, placing the hot chocolate down upon the table with a quiet thunk of paper against wood. "Pleading for me to spare him because you love him, like a heroine in a horridly written romance novel?" she asked, a vicious smile crossing her face at the image she had created.
Catherine's smile fell from her face and she focused upon the cup in front of her, wrapping both hands around it as if she sought warm or comfort, possibly both. Karai felt a moment of triumph until Catherine's gaze lifted and met Karai's own.
"No," Catherine finally replied.
Her answer surprised Karai enough that she sat up a little straighter, her attention more focused as she processed Catherine's monosyllable reply.
"Why not?" she questioned. "Is his life not worth begging for? Is your love for him so fleeting, your heart so fickle and capricious, that it would turn from him so quickly?" she wondered harshly, he temper flaring within her for some reason she was not able to understand at this moment.
Catherine continued to hold her gaze, the woman's blank expression containing a hint of some emotion within he moss green of her eyes that Karai was unable to read.
"I'm not begging for Leonardo's life because it isn't in any danger," Catherine replied calmly.
Karai hid her surprise behind a malicious grin. "I want his death," she taunted.
Catherine nodded. "I believe that, but if it was his death you sought, he would have been dead years ago." Karai narrowed her eyes in irritation as Catherine continued thoughtfully, "I suppose if push came to shove Leonardo's death would be sufficient, but at this particular moment in time, it is not his life you wish to take." Catherine's gaze remained steady as did her words. "It's mine."
"And how did you come to this narcissistic conclusion?" she queried, distain filling her voice. "Has Leonardo's guard upon you filled you with an inflated notion of your inherent worth and a certainty regarding my machinations towards you?" she wondered.
"No," Catherine answered pausing for a moment before continuing. "I believe he is under the impression that you are going to kill him," she answered steadily, her gaze intense.
"So if he believes I am going to kill him, how did you come to the erroneous conclusion that I am not?" Karai wondered her mind beginning to reorder her assumptions and perceptions of the woman sitting in front of her.
"Because, you want Leonardo to suffer and if I were in your place, it's what I would do," she stated flatly.
Karai felt herself still at the woman's words.
"Death is so easy," Catherine continued. "I should know." She gave a smile, but it was grim and self depreciating. "It is much sweeter to think of the suffering you can enact upon someone who must live with the knowledge that their past actions are the cause of the present pain now being inflicted upon them."
Karai stared at the woman in front of her. Keeping her face curious Karai frantically reviewed all of the information she had learned about Catherine and her twin sister. Their parents had been murdered, she supposed that thoughts of revenge were not an improbable action given the circumstances. But Catherine's words of 'it's what I would do' bothered her. There was something suddenly cold and guarded about the woman in front of her. Catherine's words were steely and emotionless and even her smile now contained no warmth.
Pushing these sudden observations aside, she pasted a smug smile upon her face. "So you sought me out to beg me to spare your life?" she inquired, leaning forward threateningly.
"No," Catherine answered bluntly, throwing Karai slightly off balance by the negative response and causing Karai to scrap all of the pithy and vicious rejoinders she had planned to speak had Catherine answered 'yes.'
"I see," she said leaning back, taking up the paper cup and bringing it to her lips; studying Catherine over the rim. She took a quick sip of the sweet, chocolaty liquid before lowering the cup and asking, "So you decided to come to this bistro, for what purpose? Do you believe you can stop me?"A vindictive smile crossed Karai's face. The woman in front of her was trying her patience and looked much too calm and collected for her liking. "I could kill you right here and right now."
"You could," Catherine agreed, again no emotional inflection. Catherine leaned forward, her face serious. "If you want to kill me, I can't stop you. I am outmanned, outgunned and out classed. If you want me dead the only thing I can hope for is that you at least make my death a swift one."
Karai reordered her preconceived notions about the woman in front of her, because this easy acquiescence of her demise bothered her. "Are you so quick to wish for your death?" she asked.
"No, but if you covet it, then I cannot stop you," Catherine answered, spreading her hands wide in surrender.
Karai's eyes narrowed with suspicious speculation. "Does Leonardo know you are here?" she wondered, though she already suspected the answer. It was confirmed by the negative shake of the woman's head, which caused her obsidian locks streaked with blood-red crimson to slide back across her shoulders.
"I thought not." Karai continued leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "Leonardo would not risk your life so thoughtlessly. Much like a mouse being tossed into a cage with a viper, he would be foolish to think the mouse would survive the encounter," Karai said, a dangerous, bloodthirsty smile spreading across her features. "Seeking me out was incredibly stupid," Karai observed.
Catherine threw back her head and laughed, the sound full-throated and done with abandon. "I know," she answered with a humour-filled grin.
Again thrown off by this reaction, Karai attempted to gain some sort of bearing on the sanity of the woman in front of her. Unable to settle upon any conclusion she decided she did not care. Catherine would be dead by tomorrow night anyway, and if this was her attempt to humanize her and make Karai feel any sort of emotion towards her except for abhorrence and contempt, Catherine had failed miserably.
Suddenly feeling irritated and older than her twenty eight years, Karai said in a bored voice, "As interesting as this has been," she stood, the chair legs scraping across the flagstone tiles, "I have to-"
"I didn't actually come here to talk about Leonardo," Catherine interrupted her tone becoming serious. "I came here to tell you that I know what it's like to love a monster."
Karai looked at Catherine in shock for a moment -almost as if she were unable to process the younger woman's words- before a cruel smile spread across her lips. She sat back down, placed her elbows upon the table and steepled her fingers together. "I see," Karai began slowly. "So in your mind you have concocted a whole tragic love story between Leonardo and myself; a ninja version of Romeo and Juliet, perhaps?" she wondered. "Two clans at war and our love torn apart because of it; my love turned to hate after he brutally murdered my father. What an utterly absurd and childish notion." Her words dripped with distain, but had no apparent effect upon the woman in front of her. Karai continued, wanting Catherine to reveal some of her inner emotional turmoil that she must be experiencing, but which she was hiding behind a very well crafted mask of calm. "But at least you can admit that your lover is a monster."
These biting, scathing words, intended to slice, tear and wound only caused the woman in front of her to tip her head to the side as if in thought.
"Leonardo was spared death by your blade because you were appalled by what your father had done..."
"He was still my father-"
"But," Catherine's voice cut off Karai's words, "also because you cared for Leonardo, in some form or another." Catherine's words slowed as if she were formulating theories and rejecting them even as she spoke. "I believe you loved him, though not in a romantic way. You respected him and he was the closest thing you had ever had to an equal. He was not your lover or love interest, and he was not your friend. But you both inhabited a world that existed within the shadows, and he was the only one who understood how lonely it was there."
Karai felt her skin prickle at Catherine's words. She rolled them around in her mind and realized they were the absolute truth. She and Leonardo had a connection, they always had, but she had never been able to quantify it.
Leonardo wasn't her friend and he wasn't a romantic interest, though there were times when she felt that spark of attraction that came with the knowledge that if their lives had been very different, there could have been something; but it was not a path they were destined for.
And on the night she had held her katana blade against the quick pulse of Leonardo's throat -an endless, empty pit of grief rising up to swallow her whole- she had not slain him; and she could never understand why.
Only...now she knew.
A world without Leonardo in it was a world in which she would be without an opponent, a peer, a challenge, and that was a horrifying and lonely prospect.
Infuriated by Catherine's startlingly keen observation, Karai narrowed her eyes prepared to deny every single word the woman had uttered, only Catherine spoke first.
"As for monsters, the only ones I have ever encountered have worn a human mask," she observed steadily. "But in regards to my observation on knowing what it is like to love a monster, I was actually talking about your father."
Karai felt the effect of the words as if it had been a physical blow. She gasped for breath before clenching her jaw shut so tightly she could hear her teeth beginning to creak with the strain.
Tomorrow morning was when Karai had planned for Catherine's death to occur, but suddenly today had garnered far more appeal.
"You dare to talk to me of my father?" Karai began slowly standing as she calculated the exact amount of time it would take to slit Catherine's throat with the tanto hidden within the inner pocket of her coat and escape before anyone noticed the other woman's death.
"I dare because I am living off of borrowed time," Catherine interjected, her voice sharp but otherwise devoid of any other emotional inflection and apparently unaffected by Karai's palpable rage.
The younger woman shoved the thick manila folder across the table and opened the cover, exposing a mug shot of someone completely unfamiliar to Karai.
"That is not my father," Karai hissed in fury that dripped with disgust.
"No, he's mine," Catherine answered flatly.
Thrown off balance and confused, Karai felt her anger momentarily slip away as she looked down at the mug shot of a handsome, dark haired young man, his expression defiant, a bruise darkening one cheek.
She quickly fingered through the thick stack of papers which turned out to be police reports, mug shots, documentation of charges filed and deals brokered.
"So now you think to win my sympathy by pointing out that our fathers did not operate on the right side of the law?" Karai asked with a sneer in her voice. "Your father was nothing but a petty criminal; a two-bit thug easily forgotten and replaced. My father ran an empire!"
"My father was a murdering, drug-trafficking thief whose sins caught up with him," Catherine stated bluntly. "And perhaps death was what he had coming to him. I'm pretty sure the families of those my father wronged would have said he got what he deserved, in fact, I know they did. But as a child, I didn't know of my father's past or his crimes. All I knew was that he taught me how to ride a bike and throw a baseball; that he would always say 'yes' when my mother said 'no.' I knew that his laugh was infectious and he couldn't cook anything on the BBQ without burning it. That was who my father was to me and my sister."
"And why do I care?" Karai interrupted what was no doubt going to be a long and boring recitation of redemption and familial bliss.
"His death shattered my heart, twice. I not only watched him die, but I learned of his past, his struggle for redemption and I had to question if he deserved it. Did he deserve death or did he deserve a second chance? I couldn't reconcile in my mind the darkness of my father's character with the light of it." Catherine paused as if she was making sure Karai was still paying attention, and Karai had to admit that even though she tried to convince herself that she didn't care and that the words Catherine was spouting were unimportant and superfluous, Karai found herself holding her breath, waiting for the younger woman to continue, which she did. "But I finally came to the conclusion that I could mourn the father I had lost, the good husband that he was to my mother, and the man he had become, and despise the actions of the man he had been."
"Our situations are nothing alike," Karai said defensively ignoring the chord that had been struck within her at Catherine's words..
At this assertion Catherine smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. "So you don't seek revenge? Because I know did."
Karai felt herself stiffen in shock. The moment she gained her bearings within the conversation, a turn of phrase and a pointed question from the woman in front of her caused her to struggle again to regain them, and she was beginning to dislike the sensation.
Karai needed to be in control, and somewhere along the way she had lost complete and utter control over this entire conversation. Though to be honest, Karai was beginning to wonder if she had ever had it.
"You lie," Karai spat angrily almost against her will as her emotions rioted within her. "You do not have it within you to take another's life. You are soft, weak and pathetic," she accused fiercely.
Catherine only smiled knowingly and continued."I may have been able to forgive Tate for my father's death, but not my mother's, or the attempted murder of my sister and myself. I needed to fill the hole that had been ripped open in my heart. The man who had taken away everything and destroyed my life needed to pay; and death was too kind and much too easy a punishment. "
Karai forced an inquiring smile to cross her face. "And did you get your revenge?" she wondered even though she believed she already knew the answer.
Catherine gave a smirk. "I waited nearly ten years to track down the men responsible. Tate's friend Enzo, he was already dead; the life of a gang member is so brutally brief. But Tate, he had been arrested for a string of drug offences, but was never tied to my parent's murder. I knew his face, I even knew his name, spoken by my father as he pleaded for him to let my mother go. Instead, Tate shot my mother first while his friend goaded him on and laughed."
Karai found herself slowly sitting back down, "And?" she asked. She didn't care, but she was curious.
"Tate lived with his sister, and he was the single father of a six year old boy named Dillon. His sister had charge of Dillon and picking him up after school, but most of the time she was too high to remember to do so. I picked Dillon up after school one day, his aunt had been arrested courtesy of an anonymous tip for drug possession and intent to distribute." Karai felt her eyebrows raise at this, but remained silent, knowing who the anonymous tipster had to be. "Dillon and I had a very nice talk. He's a very quiet, sweet child and I realized at that moment that all of my machinations, all of my plans were for naught. I had wanted Tate to pay, to suffer as my sister and I had suffered. I intended to take everything from him, his sister, his son, his home; everything. And it would have been so simple, too. One call to Social Services and Dillon would be removed from his home, and getting Tate jailed would have been child's play, caught up in the sting that had taken his sister. But I realized that even though I didn't plan to kill anyone -and the thought had crossed my mind to just kill Tate and get it all over with- that it would do nothing. It would only destroy another child's life and I didn't want to dispense that type of cruel poison and carry that that kind of burden upon my shoulders."
"Because you lacked true conviction of your purpose," Karai interjected scathingly.
"Perhaps," Catherine agreed. "But I did argue with myself that it was possible that Dillon would be better off in foster care. After all, his father was a murdering, drug-trafficking thief." Catherine gave a self depreciating smile. "Tate found me sitting at a park bench with his son. I think he would have shot me on the spot if his son hadn't been there. I explained who I was as I sat watching a child whose life I had the power to ruin, I realized that revenge would not bring my mother or my father back. It would not heal the pain of the grief that was inflicted, or change the events of my past."
"So you failed," Karai sneered.
"I didn't fail, I chose another option. I gave Tate a second chance, not because he deserved it, but because I could."
"I will never forgive Leonardo for what he did to my father, what he did to me. Vengeance is the only thing I have left," Karai insisted furiously.
"Leonardo was the one who took the life of the man who raised you, but in doing so, he ripped away the blinders of unquestioning loyalty you gave your father and showed you the truth of the man who taught you honour, but had none himself."
Karai felt the metaphorical dagger strike her heart and twist savagely in her breast; winding her. She felt all of seventeen years old again and her father still ruled her life, controlled her actions, manipulated her thoughts and dripped poison into her heart. She recalled all of her father's words to her -all of the cruel vitriol he had spouted- and her anger at everything and everyone for foisting upon her so twisted a fate and so spiteful a destiny; one she dared not struggle against.
She had not been raised to be just a woman. She was a ninja, she was the Shredder's daughter, the heir to her Clan and to an empire that stretched across countries and continents. It was a role that she could not escape.
"You will regret-"
"I didn't forgive Tate," Catherine interrupted sharply and Karai allowed this for the apparent reason of wanting to hear what Catherine had to say. "I couldn't forgive him. That was something far beyond my ability, but sometimes, the possibility of a second chance opens up; a new and fresh beginning is offered, and I decided to take it. I decided to move forward, discontinue my obsession with the past, and create something better for my future."
"I cannot move forward, I cannot move on and you cannot convince me that this is something I have the ability to do," Karai retorted angrily.
Catherine gave no indication of her inner thoughts, only standing slowly and giving her a smile, like the kind adults give to children when they are amused by something that the child will understand when they get older. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Ms Saki. It was an honour to meet you," Catherine said politely, giving a slight bow of her head. "I know you will do what you must."
This sentence seemed oddly ambiguous, but Karai decided to take it as acceptance of Catherine's impending death. "I will," Karai promised.
Catherine gave a quick nod of acknowledgement and walked past Karai, pausing just as she reached Karai's seat. "I thought I would feel regret that day when I walked away, leaving Tate with his son with a promise from him to extricate himself from his gang if he wished to stay with his son and avoid prison for the rest of his life, but I didn't. Instead, I felt something I had never in my life felt before."
Catherine walked forward and Karai shifted in her seat so she was able to get a better view of the woman's retreating back. Unable to stand the thought of Catherine getting in the last word, Karai observed in a voice filled with venom, "I suppose you felt virtuous," she practically spat, "because you believed your actions to be unselfish, compassionate, and benevolent."
Giving a chuckle and shaking her head, Catherine turned towards Karai, continuing to walk backwards as she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. "I felt free." And with these parting words Catherine turned back around and vanished into a crowd of people gathering about watching the scene of a heated argument between the owners of a Lincoln Town car and a motorcycle who must have been involved in a fender bender.
Karai swiftly stood, nearly knocking the chair backwards as she did so. Blinding anger filled her and focused upon Catherine with deadly intent.
How dare she attempt to compare our lives. How dare she pretend to know what I suffered;, how I felt. How dare she call my father a monster, Karai fumed silently to herself.
At that moment, Catherine's death was not enough. At that moment she wanted to kill everyone. Leonardo, his three brothers, Elizabeth and Catherine. She wanted them all to pay, to feel her rage at the end of her Katana blade, but Catherine's death would have to do.
Karai swiftly turned, intent on carving Catherine's heart from her chest and presenting it to Leonardo in an ornate box, when she slammed into a masculine chest and stumbled back, two strong hands gripping her upper arms to steady her.
Her lips stretched into a snarl, the man in front of her about to feel the sting of her tongue if not her tanto blade.
She looked up and into a face she had never thought to see again.
Shock, nervousness, regret and longing filled her all at once, replacing all of the anger that had flared within her as she gazed at the only man she had ever loved; the only man she had ever wanted, and the only person who wholly accepted her just as she was, darkness, obligation, familial ties and all. He was the man she had pushed away with her obsession for revenge that had poisoned her heart so much there had been no room left for him; the man who had broke her heart when she had been given an ultimatum of his love or revenge and she had chosen revenge; the man who swore to never return to New York and who swore would never see her again, because the thought of her, anything that reminded him of her, was too much to bear.
Karai stared into grey eyes, hidden partially behind a pair of glasses, his red hair longer than she remembered it being and slightly mussed, as if he had been dragging a nervous hand through it. His eyes widened in startled shock as if he couldn't believe who he had run into.
"Karai?" he asked in breathlessly.
Karai licked her lips nervously, as if the man in front of her would disappear if she spoke his name, but dared it anyway because she realized that she wanted so much for him to be real, but was terrified at the same time if he was. Swallowing roughly she asked softly, "Chaplain?"
Catherine broke into a run once she turned the corner of the building that housed the bistro. Her heart was pounding furiously and she felt like she didn't know if she wanted to weep, scream, hide or destroy something, but she was pretty sure she wanted to do all of the above.
Ducking down a side street she pressed her back up against the wall and took in great heaving gasps of air into her burning lungs.
Running had been a horrible, horrible idea. Her bruised lung felt like there was a knife twisting within it, her stitches were burning, her bruises throbbed and the felt like she might actually be sick.
She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around her chest in order to stop her heart from breaking free of her chest with the strength and rapidity of its beating.
Her mind was screaming at her that she as all kinds of stupid, and she knew that she was. She didn't know what had possessed her to confront Karai -probably the most dangerous woman in New York- except that it was last ditch Hail Mary to save her own life.
It was a terrifying prospect, but talking to Karai had been the only plan she had been able to formulate, and as far as plans went, it was risky, sketchy, raw and based mostly upon assumptions as opposed to facts.
When she had sat down across from Karai, her hands clasped around the hot chocolate in front of her to keep them from shaking with the terror she felt, she hadn't known if the woman across from her actually plotted her death, or Leonardo's. She strongly suspected her own and so running with that belief, had basically accused Karai of this and carefully watched the woman's reactions to verify her theory.
Karai had of course denied that she had any designs on Catherine's life and that she actively sought Leonardo's death, but it was easy to see how angry and defensive Karai became, and how she had attempted to cover her surprise with scathing comments and pointed barbs, thus confirming Catherine's initial supposition.
And so she had approached Karai as one woman to another who also suffered from severe daddy issues and who were both still haunted by their fathers' respective murders. She had wanted to show Karai that she didn't owe her father anything but her grief and acceptance of his death in the context of his actions towards Raphael.
Catherine herself had already travelled down the path of revenge and found it to be a dead end that led to nothing but emptiness and heart-ache. She tried to convince Karai that in the end, revenge wouldn't make her feel any better. It would only shatter more lives and result in more retaliatory bloodshed.
Catherine did not fear death -she'd died once and found it to be a rather effortless endeavour- but she didn't want to die.
But if she did...
It would utterly and completely destroy her sister. Elizabeth was strong, stronger than she gave herself credit for, but Elizabeth was self-destructive and Catherine worried that her death would send her sister into a downward spiral she wouldn't be able to pull herself out from.
As for the brothers, her death would affect them as well. Besides personal loss, she was very cognizant of the fact that she had come to represent the first woman in the Turtles' lives who was a potential girlfriend, and if she died...
Leonardo would never forgive himself for her death; she knew it would devastate him. And knowing Leonardo and his code of honour, it was an absolute certainty that he would try to avenge her death. More bloodshed would ensue and Leonardo would be lucky to survive the descent into what was tantamount to a war.
Michelangelo's budding relationship with Sabrina -which she had learned of this morning during her make-up session with Sabrina- would end, thus setting the stage for a future full of loneliness for both Michelangelo and Donatello.
And Raphael...
She slowly stood, pushing thoughts of Raphael from her mind because she suddenly felt as if she was about to break into tears and she didn't have the time for such trivialities. Emotion would not help her right now, nothing would.
She had no moves left to make; she had thrown all of her cards upon the table and had to wait for Karai to decide if she wanted to fold or take everything.
Chaplain had been her wild card.
April had explained that Karai and Chaplain had a 'thing' of some sort though she wasn't quite sure what. Though April had mused that Chaplain was completely devoted to Karai. But obviously something had happened between the two of them because according to April, Chaplain suddenly left New York.
Catherine had called her private investigator, the one who had helped her with Stuart, and got him to see if he could find anything out about Chaplain and his relationship with Karai. Luckily Karai Saki was a notable public figure and people remembered her. Canvassing the area around Saki Tower, he had discovered that the two would frequent a small bistro and, according to the baristas, the two came nearly every day and were definitely in a relationship. But that had been nearly two years ago.
But Karai had just started frequenting the bistro again, this time alone. She would order a coffee at the same time each day, sit at the same table on the patio, and not drink it, throwing it out after half an hour of sitting and brooding.
If those weren't the actions of a woman seriously reflecting upon her life choices and filling it with wistful nostalgia, Catherine didn't know what was.
Catherine didn't believe that her words alone and the folder containing her father's rap sheet would sway Karai; but perhaps in conjunction with a lost love, it might just be enough to push Karai away from her plans of vengeance.
She had sent Chaplain an e-mail (obtained through some possibly illegal hacking courtesy of a 'friend' of Elizabeth's) outlining a job offer from a supposed London based technology company. The interview would take place in New York complete with round-trip airfare and a Town Car all provided for him to take him to and from the interview. Catherine had felt guilty about lying to Chaplain, but figured that if things didn't work out between Chaplain and Karai, that Chaplain would only lose time; as Catherine had provided him with a return flight and she knew his current job was a free-lance position that gave him the flexibility to easily make the trip.
Chaplain's e-mail reply had been excited, but dubious about the interview and the company. He had expressed concern over his inability to find the company listed anywhere on the internet, to which Catherine had sent back a reply informing him that they were not the kind of company that could be found on the internet, and that she was aware of his work at Saki Corp. This bit of bait hooked Chaplain enough that he had agreed to come to New York, even though Catherine had the impression that being in New York was not a pleasant prospect for him. But this gave her hope that Chaplain still had feelings for Karai, and was hopeful that Karai still harboured them for Chaplain as well.
In regards to the implementation of the plan, timing had been absolutely crucial and amazingly enough, it had worked like clockwork.
When Chaplain's flight arrived, Sabrina had been waiting to take Chaplain to his 'interview' with plenty of time to spare before his supposed interview was supposed to take place; thereby ensuring that Chaplin would not feel rushed or anxious to get to his destination.
During the transportation of Chaplain to his 'interview' a motorcycle rider (Elizabeth) would pull in front of the Town Car(Sabrina), cutting it off. The two women would then fake a fender bender in front of the bistro Karai had been frequenting every morning at 9:00am sharp. Catherine would arrive at 9:05 and she had allotted half an hour for their discussion.
Sabrina would suggest Chaplain get a coffee from the bistro while she sorted things out with a difficult and irate Elizabeth by 9:40 at the latest, giving Catherine time to escape before Karai decided to kill her right there and then. And given the anger she had managed to elicit within the older woman at the end of their discussion, she was lucky she had managed to make her escape alive.
And now all of the cards were in play.
Catherine was giving Karai a chance to walk away, to choose another path and to start over; not as just the daughter of the Shredder, still bowing to his wants and his needs, but as Karai Oroku, looking after her own wants and her own needs.
Hmmmm I wonder what Karai will do...