Title: Validation
Summary: Never the perfect son or student or brother, Raphael does the unthinkable. Away from the lair and into an allegiance with Shredder, honor is replaced by his pronounced desire for validation.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership ties to the TMNT fandom or anything else I might reference. Credit to those who do.
SPECIAL THANKS TO! Bella13blue, my own personal Nemesis! (Because everybody needs one.) MY Nemesis has been a good friend; she's a great soundboard and has been kind enough to encourage and offer suggestions on my work for this fic.
Author's Notes: Short chapter is short.
Questions or comments, submit via review or PM. Thank you.
...
CH 49
Opening and closing his eyes made no difference to what he saw. Blackness, tinted in the faintest red due to the color of the blinding fabric. With his eyes open, he was greeted with a seemingly infinite chasm of cosmic space devoid of stars. Hell without an inferno: a limbo of sorts. So, it stood to reason that he kept his eyes closed more often than not, only blinking when the unconscious desire struck him.
It was certainly different. Eyes open- open to blackness. Eyes closed- closed to blackness. In his own personal realm of security, it was safe enough to say that everything faded to black.
Everything hid in the shadows.
The contradiction presented by the existence and necessity of light was a brand of poison.
If the mutant were to be completely honest with himself, it was a strange thing, to be blinded- not for the lack of sight, after all, he was a trained ninja, and darkness was his greatest ally; rather, the most bizarre part was feeling cloth against his face, the knot behind his head and the tails that draped either along his carapace or over his shoulders.
The feeling, so foreign, yet familiar. It stirred an unrelenting ache and drew forth memories. Too many memories of his previous mask coming on and off, sticking to his flesh when wet...
While there was a time he'd felt unease without the mask in place- as if the simple band had held him together and kept him strong and secure, stagnant- somehow, the absence of cloth made things seem bearable, less harrowing.
Presently, he wished this new fabric away, and he was so tempted to just reach up, tug the knot loose, and remove it. But he didn't relent the temptation. He refused.
His will, turned iron.
Knowing that his human-master had trusted him enough to leave it on and endure the simple punishment, he complied. He would not betray the faith of the human who'd taken him in when the rest of the world would sooner offer rebuke.
That fact alone surfaced guilt within Raphael.
Because Shredder had been so kind to him, granting him food, shelter, a purpose, and so much more... yet, when Raph finally had an opportunity to repay that kindness: a chance to retrieve Leonardo's sword and gift it to his master... he'd panicked, turned tail, and run off without it. Like a miserable, foolish coward. On top of the neglected task, he'd spent far too long with the reptiles his master deemed enemies. Then, to further complicate things, Raph had openly exposed himself to a number of civilians and the media.
For that, three words come to mind.
'Stupid. Foolish. Reckless...'
Of course, at the time, he'd been so sure of himself and his actions. So prepared for consequences. So ready to run and face the music when his turn came about in the brutal purgatory that was his life.
But he couldn't prepare well enough; not for the growing pit of regret and disdain towards himself and his duplicity. And he couldn't ignore it either. The harsh feelings itched beneath his skin, crawled beneath his flesh like parasites, and made a long trek to his brain, where they proceeded to worm their way inside, feasting on him, seeding his mind with doubt and grief.
Making him feel ill, unsettled, and tempted to rip the flesh from his frame, just for an impossible chance to rid himself of an imaginary threat.
An intangible horror.
A hatred that berthed more hatred.
An anger that set his soul on fire and turned its wrath inwards.
And, in the end, he had to wonder: 'Was it worth it? My deeds, weighin' against the consequences. My life, wasted, ruined. All wrong. Ten kinds of fucked... Dammit. I know what I should do. I know what I wanna do. So, why can't I do it? Accept the fate I threw myself towards? Why can't I just stick with my path, succeed at somethin' instead of failin' at everythin'? Leonardo woulda done it better. Woulda been able ta- No. Fuck the Leader-boy. This is my position. Not his. I'll figure it out. He ain't got nothin' ta do with this. None of the reptiles do. It's my life. My mistakes. My turn to fix it.'
He could admit it, that he'd been wrong.
That he'd royally fucked up.
Only action would mend what words never could. And, for the one he affectionately called 'Soupy,' he'd try to make amends. He'd clean up his act. He'd be a better ninja, a better student, and a better heir.
'A better son. I can be that. Fer Soupy.'
This was his resolve. For as long as he could maintain focus, this would be his goal. To prove himself. To be better. To succeed. To make up for his shortcomings.
For his master. For himself. And for the future that lie ahead of him.
...
[Heh, filler chapter. Next chapter just needs editing and will be posted shortly. Not short either; it's over 3k words!]
