SHREDDER:
"I told you I didn't want her endangered."
"Yes, Master Shredder. But you also said that you didn't want them to know you were sparing her..."
I turned and hit the arrogant student, scraping against his face with the talons on the back of my hand. "I don't need you to remind me what I said!" I shot at him. "You should not have to disobey one order to make way for another! The instructions I gave you were not difficult!"
"She gave us no choice," the boy defended, hanging his head. Blood dripped down the side of his face. I should break him in half for his disrespectful arguing.
"Get out of my sight!" I growled at him.
He backed away, bowing as he left. I felt a presence nearby and spun to see Kiara pad silently into the room. Her movements were fluid and cat-like as she perched on the arm of the red-leather couch. "{I have delivered what I have promised,}" she spoke.
"{In part,}" I agreed.
"{And I have not failed you.}" I regarded her silently. She leaned back and rested her head on the back of the couch.
"{You are not yet through,}" I reminded her.
"{No, I am not.}"
"{So when can I expect the completion of this, offensive, as you call it?}"
"{Soon, father,}" she assured me. "{It will not be difficult now.}"
She shifted her eyes to me, but kept her head bowed. I stood silent for a moment, then turned and left the room.
RAPHAEL:
I became aware of my surroundings. No, I became aware that I had surroundings. I wasn't sure where I was. I felt pain, something warm and wet on my arm, wiping away blood. Still only half conscious, I grabbed at the object of my pain and my fingers wrapped around a thin wrist.
"Relax, Raphael..." she whispered. She said something else, too, but the ringing in my head drowned it out.
"Where...?" I struggled. "Where is everyone?"
She gently pried my grip from her and returned my arm to my side. "You want to wake up a little first," she advised.
"Don't tell me what I want," I snapped at her. I realized I still hadn't opened my eyes and forced them open. The room was dark, lit by a candle on the bedside table. "Where are we?" I demanded.
"My apartment."
I groaned, remembering more than I wanted to. "Where are my brothers?" A sad look crossed her face. "They've been captured."
"Captured," I repeated.
"I got a phone call on my cell. Some woman, claiming to be heading an offensive to kill all of you. By the foot. Kiara."
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes again, exhaustion sweeping over me. I could feel the blackness calling me. "Kat?" I whispered as I felt myself falling.
"Yes, Raphael?"
"I..."
Words faded. I forgot what I was saying. I felt myself slipping away. She rested her hand on my arm. "Rest, Raphael."
I rested.
DONATELLO:
I was only half-conscious when I heard footsteps far away. I forced my eyes open and looked up. My head was spinning, and I knew I was drugged. It didn't ease the pain. I could feel the blood and bruises around my wrists, the metal handcuffs biting into my skin. I glanced at Leo. His head was hung and tilted to the side. For a moment, I wondered if he was asleep. He looked exhausted, and defeated. It didn't provide me with any kind of reassurance, that was for damn sure. "Leo?" I choked, gagging on the stale air.
He looked up slowly. "Where are we?" I asked.
"I don't know," he rasped. His voice was dry and scratchy.
I closed my eyes as the vertigo around me intensified. "Why are we still alive?"
He coughed, his body convulsing limply from the chains. He was in worse shape than I was. I wondered for a moment what they'd given us. Leonardo moaned and tilted his head back against the chain-link fence behind him. Simple bonds, but remarkably effective. "Have you seen Mike?" I asked.
He moaned something that sounded like "no" and his head fell forward. If they didn't have Mike, they probably didn't have Raph, either. At least we had a fighting chance. It was hard to breathe. Took too much effort to keep my eyes open. Slowly, I fell back into the welcoming blackness.
RAPHAEL:
I felt warmth and a dull pain. As I slowly woke up, I identified where each was coming from. The pain was centered in my arm, where I could feel the gash pressed against bandages. The warmth came from behind me. I felt a hand low on my arm, far away from the wound, and skin was pressed to my leg. I breathed deep, taking in the faint scent of the woman lying next to me.
I turned slowly and her arm retracted. She jolted awake and sat up. "Oh," she exclaimed, her face flooding red. "I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."
"S'alright," I cringed as I settled onto my back.
"I really didn't mean to..."
I reached across my chest with my good arm and grabbed her wrist, guiding it back over my chest and pulling her down on me again. She hesitated, but didn't say anything. Slowly, carefully, I raised my hurt arm and rested it on her shoulders as she settled next to me. "How long have I been out?"
"Almost a full day."
I groaned and pulled away from her, suddenly wide awake. "I gotta go."
"Where?" she challenged as I sat up. I cringed at the pain.
"I gotta find my brothers."
"No you don't!" she cried, half-laughing. "Raphael, are you insane? You're hurt!"
"I don't have a choice," I mumbled.
She stepped in front of the door before I could leave. "Lay down," she ordered, her voice cold and authoritative.
I laughed at her. "You think you're gonna stop me?" I challenged.
I pushed past her. She stepped aside, but then reached out as I passed and grabbed the wound on my arm. I instinctively tried to shake her off, but she held on tight. I relented for the sake of the pain, and stood still. She leaned into me. "I know you can't help but be a stubborn, impulsive idiot," she whispered. "But I didn't spend the last twenty hours taking care of you so you could go out and get yourself killed. So you're gonna turn around and lay down on that bed and behave."
Her tone was amusing. She was really serious. And she wasn't letting up the pressure on my arm. The pain was becoming unbearable. "Fine," I relented.
She let go and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. I walked back down to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. I was gonna have to wait until she fell asleep or something. Not that I had any idea where I would go...
MADONNA:
His arms were raised over his head, the metal handcuffs lined with dried blood. His head was hung and tilted to the side. For a moment, I wondered if he was sleeping. I had never seen him look so defeated. I wasn't sure how I felt about it.
I heard my high heel shoes click on the cement floor. I was wearing a long, black evening gown, slit to halfway up my thigh. It was lined with sequins and cut low, with thin straps. My blond, permed hair was pulled up elegantly behind me. It was loose and some of it brushed against my shoulders as I walked. He looked up slowly, and the blank look on his face told me he was drugged. That was smart, since he was left here unguarded.
He was out of it, but not so much so that he didn't recognize me. His eyes communicated shock, fear, and confusion, all at the same time. He whispered my name, his voice catching in his throat. He cringed as he took a breath. Nearby, his brother stared at me, also confused.
"You," Leo choked. "You're Kiara."
The name sounded like he'd meant it as an insult. I didn't answer, but took a step toward him. "Why?" he demanded, pain streaking his features.
"Does it matter, Leo?" I whispered. "Does it really matter?"
"Yes, it matters!" he cried, cringing in pain as the words formed.
I reached up and placed my hands on his cheeks, leaning in to kiss him. He didn't fight me, but he didn't kiss back, either. I ran my fingers down the center of his torso as I pulled away. "It was hard, Leo," I admitted. "It was harder than you know."
"Then why?" he asked.
I ran my fingers along his skin. It was cold and clammy, and he closed his eyes in silent surrender. He didn't bother fighting me. "It just couldn't work, Leo," I informed him, pain choking my voice. "I have a responsibility, and I can't turn my back on that, no matter what I feel or want."
I heard a sound behind me and turned. "Shredder," Leo choked. I bowed respectfully and he nodded in reply. He looked past me at the figure hanging on the wall, and glanced over at his brother. I turned and caught Leonardo's stare. He clenched his jaw, anger shining through his eyes. "You won't get away with this," he growled, but not to me.
I felt the dark figure behind me press in close and cringed inwardly. No, please, I silently begged. Please not here...
His hands circled my waist and I heard his breath resonate in the faceplate. It offered me reassurance. As long as he was hidden behind the mask, he couldn't kiss me. But his hands roamed down, over my hips, careful not to slice through my dress with the claws that protruded from his wrists. He found my skin through the slit in the side of the dress and I drowned out the sensations. I could separate myself by now. And I soon realized that it wasn't me he was interested in. He was staring at Leonardo, challenging him. Leo glared back with hatred in his eyes.
"I already have gotten away with it," came the deep, inhuman reply.
Leonardo glared back, but said nothing. There was a moment of tense silence before the hands on my hips retracted. Without a word, he was gone. I stared at Leo for a moment, then turned to leave.
"Madonna," he called after me.
I stopped and turned. The pained look on his face broke my heart in two. I felt tears sting the backs of my eyes. "I love you," he choked.
I thought my legs would fall out from underneath me. Tears threatened to overflow. I wanted to answer him. I wanted to throw my arms around him and tend to his wounds, inside and out- wounds I myself had inflicted. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness that I knew he would grant me. That's what hurt worst of all. I knew he meant it. He loved me. And I knew I still loved him.
Duty. Everything I wanted, everything I loved, weighed against a daughter's duty.
"I'm so sorry," I choked. I turned and walked away, feeling the hot tears overflow. Outside, it was raining again. I stepped out into the shower, felt it beat on my shoulders, saw the colors blur in the sheet of gray... and I cried. My tears mingled with the rain as I slid along the wall, ripping the back of the dress as I collapsed into a puddle of mud.
RAPHAEL:
"You're not going anywhere," she informed me.
"Kat, we've been over this," I answered. "I stayed the night, but I need to go find my brothers. It's not an optional thing."
She reached for my arm, but I caught her wrist. "Don't," I threatened. She said nothing. "I can't just sit here and do nothing," I tried to explain. "If they're in danger, I have to do something about it. Whether I'm hurt or not."
She pulled away from me and grabbed the phone off the bedside table. She held it out to me. "Call them. If they got home, there's no reason for you to go out there and commit suicide."
I stared at her for a moment before taking the phone. Somewhere inside of me, I knew she was right. Otherwise, she wouldn't stop me. But the pain in my arm made it hard to clench my fist, much less hold a weapon. If they were in danger, I was powerless to help them. Still, I wanted to know.
I took the phone and dialed the number, praying that someone would answer. It rang and rang, and I didn't hang up for a full two minutes. Kat left the room and I glanced toward the window. I could get out of here easily. I'd be gone before she realized I was leaving. She couldn't keep me here. But what good would it do?
I pulled the cordless phone away from my ear and stared at it for a moment. I called April. No answer. I didn't feel like leaving a message on her answering machine. And if I did, where would I tell her to call me back? I didn't even know the number here. No sense in worrying her, anyway.
There was a knock on the front door. I walked over to the bedroom door and closed it, locking myself in. I doubted I'd have to worry about hiding, but I didn't want to stand in the doorway when Kat answered. I glanced at the clock. No wonder why April didn't answer. She was at work. I sighed. I didn't want to worry her, but I knew full well that she would be the first one any of my brothers would call. I dialed the number to the newsroom as I heard another knock at the door.
"News Channel Three, this is..."
I heard a scream and dropped the phone as I heard a crash. The front door slammed against the wall and wood splintered as I jerked the door open without turning the handle. Kat was struggling to get up, having stumbled back onto the end table for the couch. A lamp was on the floor, broken. There was a loud crash as dark figures flew through the windows and streamed in through the door. Oh. Shit.
I reached for my weapons instinctively. This was going to be one hell of a fight. There weren't really all that many of them. But in this confined space, with no help, and having only one good arm, I was in trouble. Kat was on her feet again, and she backed toward me, arms raised and prepared for battle. I considered the thought. She was in cutoff shorts and a T-shirt, her dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail. But if she'd ever looked ready to fight, it was now. Anger sparked in her eyes as she glared at the foot soldiers invading her home. And I watched as she sprang into action.
KATARINA:
I could feel Raphael nearby. I drowned out the pain as blood spilled from my knuckles. Angry and confused, I was not thinking clearly. I knew my movements were sloppy. But I could still kick ass. They were on my turf, and that gave me certain advantages.
I vaulted backwards over the sofa and spun to grab the katana that hung above my fireplace. I threw the sheath aside and braced with it in front of me. I'd spent three years learning kenjutsu. I was in no way a master of the art, but I was competent. And they were unarmed.
Suddenly, the room filled with smoke. It exploded around me and I gagged, trying to stay focused as I fought back the dark figures. I was blind, and I felt my grip on the sword slacken as I struggled for air. Then, suddenly, the weapon was out of my hand. I felt arms grab my wrists as I fought blindly, choking. My eyes burned as I stumbled back. I felt a kick connect with my stomach, and felt searing pain as I flew backward, crashing into something. Blood ran as I slipped into blackness.
LEONARDO:
Bittersweet memories mingle with present pain. I'm on the edge of her bed as she opens the door slowly. I look up. Our eyes lock and I read a look of concern. "Leo, are you okay?" she asks.
No, I'm not okay... pain... falling... a blackness that began forming months ago claiming me. My weakness. My frailty exposed. Death inevitable and sadness eternal. The essence of love.
I hang my head again and close my eyes. Silence engulfs us. I feel her sit down on the edge of the bed next to me. She doesn't ask. I don't tell. But she knows. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry."
A shimmering black dress slit nearly to her hip. Her shoes click on the floor. I hang from my wrists, a dull pain ever-present behind my eyes. Madonna. Kiara. The realization sinks its teeth deep into my heart, spilling blood. "Why?"
"Does it matter, Leo? Does it really matter?"
Confusion. Memories. I feel the tears sting as she sits next to me, running her hand along my arm. My father, my sensei is dead. We'd buried him in an unmarked grave, and I know now that I will never see him again. My secret source of strength is suddenly gone. I feel Madonna turn and pull my head to her chest, rocking gently back and forth. I had never had a mother to compare the action to, but it was exactly what I would have expected a mother to do. "It's okay," she whispers. "It's okay."
And it does matter. It matters because I love her. She leans into me; the gown itches my already burning skin. Her kiss sends tears streaming down my cheeks. I feel used. I feel alone. I feel love for this woman standing before me, and lust as her hands trail down my body. Even now, I burn for her. "Why?"
The tears run onto her chest. Then, they won't come anymore. I pull away slowly and turn my face from her. "I'm sorry, Madonna," I choke. "But I... I didn't know where else to go. I didn't want to go home and..." I pause for a moment. Her hand falls gently on my leg and I close my eyes. "And I didn't want to be alone."
"It's okay," she assures me. "It's okay, you're always welcome here."
I breathe deep as I feel her hand rise to my neck and shoulders. Her touch is so gentle, calming the storm of emotions that rages inside of me, uncontrolled. I don't like not being in control. I feel vulnerable, but I know that I can trust her.
Oh, God, why do I trust her? Why did I ever trust her? Pain sears through my heart as the demon's hands circle her waist, pulling her to him forcefully. No! Don't touch her! He watches me... challenging me. I'm powerless.
I was falling in love faster than I could catch myself, until I found myself here. I hit the pavement at the end of the jump. I've never been in love before, and I'm afraid of what it could mean. I remember the talk that I had never meant to have with Master Splinter, just before he died. He had approved of Madonna. And he told me, in so many words, that he approved of whatever relationship I would have with her. He gave me peace, and the assurance that I needed. I'm not making a mistake by falling in love with her. I am changing, and I am allowing myself to be changed. But there is nothing wrong with that.
His dying wish... for all of us to find peace.
I feel peace with her. Even with all of the turmoil raging in my head and my heart, her touch comforts me. She is beautiful, and her heart is so pure. She deserves a husband, a nice house, a child that she could show off to the world. I can't give her any of that. I could never give her that. Wishing for her love is cruel to both of us. But I feel her close to me, guiding me through the uncertainties of a new experience. She smiles, and I surrender. She knows what she's doing. She's teaching me.
She teaches me to begin; she lets me continue. I take her body... she won't give me her heart. It's lost somewhere... in a bed with my mortal enemy.
