AMY:
I watched the flurry of motion with wide eyes. I wasn't normally up at this time of the morning. Normally, I was too tired. Nightmares usually kept me up most of the night. But last night, I had been too tired to dream. So now I was awake at seven, watching the sparring session. Raphael had paired with Donny against their two brothers. At first, they seemed almost casual. But as time went by, the sparring got intense, to the point where my eyes couldn't even follow it. Every movement was an extension of the last, and they all flowed together so quickly, I couldn't tell where one ended and another began. But I knew when it ended.
I think it was his legs that got attacked. But I couldn't tell you exactly how Raphael ended up on the floor. Michaelangelo stood over him, weapons in hand, and the fighting stopped. "You okay, bro?" Mike asked, sounding concerned.
Raphael glared at him as he rose to his feet. "I'm fine," he snarled.
A subtle shock crossed Mikey's face. "I've never been able to catch you like that before… I wasn't expecting something so simple to…"
"Dammit, Mikey, lay off!" Raph shot at him. I cowered as he stormed past me, out of the training room. I was noticed for the first time.
"Oh, hey, Amy," Mike greeted, suddenly his normal, cheerful self.
I waved my fingers slightly, but kept my hands crossed over my chest. "I think we're done," Leo sighed to his brothers.
Leo and Mike left the room without further acknowledging me. Leonardo said something in another language as he passed me, but it wasn't aimed in my direction. Michaelangelo laughed. I turned my attention back to Donny. "How are you?" I asked quietly.
He twirled the bo expertly in front of him. "I'm okay," he answered, not looking at me. "You?"
I didn't bother to shrug, because he couldn't see me. I sighed. "Well, you look busy so I'll…"
"No," he interrupted, stopping his twirling and looking toward me. "No, don't leave." A smile crossed his face and he held out a hand to me. "Come here. Take your shoes off first."
I stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. "Donny, you know I don't know the first thing about martial arts," I mumbled.
"I'll teach you," he grinned. "Easy stuff. Come on."
His hand was still outstretched. Hesitantly, I kicked my shoes off and stepped onto the blue mat. As I approached him, he moved behind me. He positioned my hands on the long staff, folding my thumb over my forefinger. "Spread your legs apart, until your feet are against mine."
I complied, feeling secure and steady against him. "This is called the right Zenkutsu-Dachi. That means forward stance. Use your right hand to lead." He guided my arms into position, pressing hard against my back. "Now you're going to thrust the bo back to the rear left," he instructed, his hands over mine. "So you need to loosen your grip a little."
I let him ease me through the movement. "Now tighten your grip again, you're going to attack."
I swallowed hard and he laughed. He must have felt me tense. "Relax. It's not hard, I promise. Put your weight forward, on your right leg."
I complied, and felt him shift with me very slowly. "And thrust the staff forward," he instructed while we were still moving. I let his strength guide the weapon, slowly but forcefully, into its attack. "That's called a Tsuki-Komi."
"What's that mean?" I questioned, feeling myself relax. This was actually kind of fun.
"Dagger thrust to the stomach," he interpreted. "Then shift your weight back, go back to your original stance…" I moved with him easily. "And you're done."
I smiled. "Really? That's it?"
"That's it," he affirmed.
"Wow," I grinned, feeling the hard wood beneath my palms. His hands were still wrapped around mine. My fingers were buried under his. "That's cool," I whispered.
He laughed quietly. "Want me to teach you a few more?" he asked.
I looked over my shoulder at him and for the first time, I realized just how close he was. I tensed, instinctively. I'd never been this close to a man before, except for my father. Then again, Donatello wasn't exactly… Yes, he was. What else could I call him? He wasn't an animal. And to call him a mutant was, to me, a lot like implying he was a freak of nature. I didn't see him that way. I couldn't see him that way. He was so much more…
"Yeah," I whispered, smiling. "Teach me more."
RAPHAEL:
"Where's Katarina?" Sasha asked, coming into the living room. I tensed as I glanced over the back of the couch at her. I didn't like being alone in the same room with her.
What the hell, Raph, I chastised myself. You're an adult, for cryin' out loud. You had sex with her during your wild teen years. Ancient history. Let it lie.
But that was easier said than done. The years hadn't changed her. She was still hot as hell. The visions flashed whether I wanted them to or not. And I didn't. I didn't want anything to do with her. She needed to leave. I didn't want to face this.
"Kat's at school," I mumbled, trying to relax.
"Really? She didn't tell me she'd gone back to school."
"Not gone back," I corrected. "She never went to begin with. But she decided to give it a shot when she found out she could make twice as much with a degree."
She nodded. "Sweet," she mumbled. I looked away, avoiding her gorgeous smile. She was a model, I remembered. Shit, she looked like a model. Damn it! "You got anything to drink here?"
"In the fridge," I invited. "Take whatever you want."
She left and returned a moment later with a beer in hand. She stood at the end of the couch, watching the quiet TV. I wasn't really paying attention to it, and it was nearly muted. I had other things on my mind. My thoughts followed a pretty regular pattern. They started with Sasha and ended with Kat.
"So how long have you been with her?" Sasha questioned.
I tensed again. Stop it, Raphael. It's just conversation. It wouldn't bother you if anyone else asked it.
"About six months," I answered quietly.
She nodded slowly. "Long time."
"Yeah," I mumbled.
She paused for a moment and raised the bottle to her lips. "Is she good?" she asked.
The question startled me. "S'cuse me?" I questioned, turning to her.
She smiled coyly. "In bed," she clarified. "Is she good?"
That's enough! Warning signals flashed in my mind and I stood up to leave. I wasn't exactly sure where I was going, but I knew I had to get out of here. "I have to go," I mumbled.
She grabbed my arm as I tried to pass, and I stopped. She slid in front of me, her fingers trailing down my arms. The cold bottle touched my skin, awakening the nerve endings in my lower arm. Ancient history. Right. I tensed and set my jaw in defiance. I was not going to allow this. "You need to step back, Sasha," I warned her.
"Why?" she cooed, smiling. "Afraid your new girlfriend might find out?"
Yes. I was terrified that Kat would walk in at any moment. Or one of my brothers, for that matter. I could imagine what Leo would think. But it was more than just the fear of getting caught. I didn't like what she was doing, or how obvious she was being about it. "Is Kat a jealous woman, Raphael?" she whispered, draping her arms over my shoulders. Her smooth, soft skin rested against my neck and I felt her leg slide between mine.
I could feel the heat in my thighs as I hardened. Traitor! I shot angrily at my body. Don't you even fucking think of touching her. I swallowed hard, trying desperately to hide my body's reaction to this woman. I didn't love her, I didn't want her, and I didn't want to admit that I was attracted to her. But I wasn't blind. I couldn't deny that she was gorgeous. It was instinct to be turned on by her.
Damn instinct. Damn attraction. I wasn't as stupid as I had been all those years ago. Now I knew the difference between love and lust, and I knew what I wanted. I loved Katarina. And I would never give that up for any amount of sexual attraction.
"Back up, Sasha," I threatened again.
She leaned into me and kissed my neck, and I jerked back, grabbing her wrists with lightning-quick reflexes. "Don't start with me," I growled.
She smiled seductively up at me. "I don't want to start with you, Raph," she whispered. "I want to finish with you."
She leaned into me again and I slammed her to the wall, pinning her wrists on the sides of her head. She gasped, momentarily shocked, and stared at me with a stunned, confused look on her face. Then, slowly, the look of surprise fell. And she smiled again. "Violent, aren't we?" she breathed. She moved her leg between mine and rubbed hard, back and forth against the inside of my thigh. "I like that. You wanna hold me down, Raphael? Fuck me hard? Maybe tie me to the bed? It's whatever you want, baby…"
I pushed away from her violently. "Don't fuck with me, Sasha," I snarled, pointing at her. "I'm warning you."
"Or else what?" she challenged. "You gonna spank me?"
Her eyes raked over me and I tensed. Confused, angry, and hating my traitorous body, I spun and retreated to my room, locking the door behind me.
AMY:
It's happening again. I know it. I know it's a dream, and yet I can't stop it. All I can do it watch, fear flooding through me. I wake up. I hear voices. Donny... Mike... Someone else. It's him. An inhuman scream, and a child cries. I sit up, clutching the blankets to my chest as I realize that I'm naked. And he's standing at the foot of my bed. No, please!
"Are you okay, baby? I heard you crying…"
My mother appears, and a scream makes my blood run cold. She fades, disintegrating into nothingness and my eyes snap open. I'm in a dark room, sitting up. I can hear my own breathing. I gasp as a hand runs over my body, stopping to probe between my legs. I try to struggle and he grips the inside of my thigh, bruising the soft flesh. Tears are streaming down my face. "Just relax, Amy… You know I don't want to hurt you…"
Soft kisses on my neck. "I wanna make you feel good, sweetie…"
I bolted upright, clasping the blankets around me with white knuckles. I was alone. And I was shaking. I gasped cool breaths of air and coughed, my chest heaving. Tears were streaming down my face, and I made no attempt to stop them. I prayed the dream was over. I pleaded that this wasn't just another part of it. I hated not knowing if I was awake or if the darkness could still manifest into some unknown horror. I hated waking up to see him there. But he wasn't here now. There was nothing but stillness in the room.
Still shaking violently, I slipped out from under the covers and pulled the robe tightly across my chest. I could feel the icy floor beneath my bare feet. It was too real to be part of another dream. Good. I didn't know if I could stand to dream anymore.
I slipped out of the room, not sure where I was going. I ended up in the kitchen. For whatever crazy reason, I ended up washing dishes. And I ended up breaking one of them with the sudden realization that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was.
"Amy?"
I gasped as every nerve in my body reacted to the unexpected voice. The plate slipped through my soap-slicked hands and crashed against the sink, shattering into a million tiny fragments. I stared at it in horror. "Omigod," I gasped, desperately wanting to clean up the mess but not sure how to go about doing it. "I'm so sorry!"
I glanced up to see Donatello standing in the doorway. A concerned look was on his face. I looked away quickly and reached for one of the larger pieces of the plate. A green, three-fingered hand caught my wrist. I gasped. I hadn't even heard him move away from the door. I froze, not sure what to expect from him. I prayed he was more like my mother than my father. She would be sarcastic and criticize my clumsiness as I cleaned it up; but my father would be absolutely furious. Donny was neither.
"It's okay," he assured me. "Don't worry about it."
I turned my face to him, not sure what to say. He inspected my hand and I suddenly noticed the pain. I was bleeding from a thin, superficial cut along my forefinger. It must have happened when the plate broke. I hadn't even noticed it at first. Don raised my finger to his lips and kissed the wound, licking away the blood. I stared at him, shocked, and he guided my hand to my side. Okay, what the hell was that…?
"Um," he mumbled, looking toward the sink. He didn't seem at all affected by the gesture of intimacy. Maybe he didn't mean it like that… "What are you doing?"
It took me a moment to find my voice. "I was, uh, washing dishes."
"I see that," he nodded. He cast a questioning glance in my direction. "At three in the morning?"
I shrugged and looked away. I still wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. It was quiet for a long moment. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter. "Are you okay?" he questioned, concern echoing in his voice.
I nodded, keeping my eyes down. "Why aren't you asleep?"
My mind wandered through the millions of answers I could give him, but I said nothing. He didn't pressure me. I breathed deep, somewhat surprised by the feeling settling in me. I glanced at him and saw him smiled faintly. The nervous tension was fading. I was actually almost comfortable around him. It was almost as if I could let down my guard. Why did I feel like that? I'd never felt that before in my life. Not with anyone. I always felt like I had something to hide. But it just seemed as if there was no reason to want to hide anything from him. I shivered as that thought ran through me.
Maybe it was because I didn't feel like he was after anything. He wasn't trying to pressure me or get me to talk like the counselors I'd been told I could trust. He didn't want my body, like my father, or want me to be perfect, like my mother. He didn't want anything. He was just… standing. And he wasn't trying to fill in the silence. It was as if it didn't bother him. I glanced over, and our eyes met.
He smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder, brushing my hair back. "You alright?"
"No," I whispered hesitantly. I waited a few seconds for a reaction. He didn't react. "No, I'm not alright," I finally finished. "I'm scared, Donny."
He didn't seem shocked. In fact, his face showed absolutely no emotion. "Why?" he asked quietly. There was no threat to his voice. It wasn't a demand. He almost sounded curious.
I swallowed hard. "What if he finds me?"
He shook his head and brushed his fingers along the side of my face. "He's not gonna find you down here, I guarantee it."
"But what if he does?" I pleaded.
He pushed off of the counter and came closer to me. I tensed as he placed his hands on my shoulders. Unsure of myself, and of everything around me, I bowed my head. "Then he'll have four ninjas to get through before he can get to you, Amy," he reminded me. "That's no easy task."
His voice was reassuring . I couldn't help but smile faintly. His hand reached up and brushed my hair behind my ear. I looked up, surprised that I wasn't more intimidated by the touch. "I know," I admitted. "I mean, it's stupid for me to feel like this. How could he possibly find me here, right?"
I forced a smile. But tears brimmed my eyes even as I did it, and I pulled away, turning my back to him. I hid my face in my hands and sobbed quietly. There was a moment of stillness and I felt Donny's hands come to rest on my shoulders again. "Come on, Amy," he mumbled. "Let me help you back to bed."
JEFF:
"You shoulda gone after the girl," Rick informed me. "The hell with the little kid. He wouldn't hold up in court anyhow."
"Ames?" I questioned, tossing a shot back in my throat. "Nah. I don't think I'll have to worry too much 'bout her."
"You think not?" he challenged.
I shrugged. "Amy's not all there. And it's not hard to see that. No jury'll take her seriously if she did testify. And I don't think she would. She's too damn scared to try anything like that." I considered the thought for a moment, staring down at the empty shotglass. "I do miss her, though," I added quietly.
"Yeah, right," Rick laughed.
"No, really, I do," I answered seriously. "She's really a sweet woman."
"Woman, hell, she's what? Thirteen?"
"Fourteen last week," I mumbled.
"She's a little young fer you. Not ta mention she's you're fuckin' daughter."
He laughed. I didn't find it funny. "She's not really my daughter, you know," I informed him, waving at the bartender. "Deana had a fling right before we got married. She's not biologically mine. She don't know that, though."
He considered that for a moment. I ordered a beer. "I been thinkin' about lookin' for her," I mumbled.
"Shit, Jeff, you and every cop in NYC," he laughed. "They ain't found her yet, what makes you think you can?"
I smiled faintly. "I know where her boyfriend lives. Chances are, she'll pay him a visit."
"Oh, she's got a boyfriend?"
I shrugged. "I guess. He's older than her. High school guy. I've only seen him once or twice."
"Shit, how long you been stalkin' her?"
I laughed out loud. "My entire life, Rick," I grinned. "My entire fucking life."
SASHA:
I glanced at the clock. It was almost dark. Time to go. I fixed my hair and makeup, and slipped into a fresh set of clothes I'd borrowed from Kat. I was glad we wore the same size.
I didn't get much further than that. Raphael stopped me at the stairs. "Where are you going?" he demanded.
I turned to him. "Why do you care?"
"You're staying in my place," he reminded me. "I have a right to know. Besides…" He smiled wickedly. "You know the rules."
I leaned against the wall, smiling at him. "Is that it, Raphael?" I questioned. "You looking out for my safety? Or are you just nosey?"
"Yeah Sasha," he growled back at me. "I'm nosey. And I also think you're doing drugs."
I glared at him. "Raphael, it's none of your fucking business what I do with my body. You don't want it, so what do you care?" I smiled.
A hardened look crossed his face as he considered that. "How do you afford drugs, Sasha, when you don't have a place to stay?"
"Who says I don't have a place to stay?"
"If you did, you'd at the very least go back and get some clothes."
His voice was accusatory. Fine. "You really wanna know, Raph?" I grinned evilly. I stepped toward him and he tensed. I rested my hands on his shoulders. "You wanna know how I afford my drugs? Okay. Fine." I ran my fingers over his skin, feeling the muscles tighten.
"I fuck people for money, Raphael," I whispered into his ear, pressing into him. I pulled away and stared into his eyes. His face was expressionless. "A prostitute. Does that bother you?"
"Back up," he growled at me, grabbing my wrists and shoving me back.
"You wanna know why, Raphael?" I offered. "I'll tell you. Because when my husband died, he left me nothing except for thousands of dollars worth of debt to pay off. Even bankruptcy couldn't get me out of it. So I'm homeless, Raphael. And I'm a prostitute."
"And you're doing drugs in my house," he accused.
I shook my head. "Not in your house. I keep my drugs at work."
I leaned in to kiss him quickly, but he jerked away and let me go, like I knew he would. I turned and walked away.
MICHAELANGELO:
It was early. Well, not that early. But earlier than I was usually conscious of the world. There was absolutely nothing on TV this early in the morning. And nobody was up except for Raph. In the background, I could hear the faint sound of him venting more pent-up frustration in the training room. He was doing that a lot lately. And it didn't sound like too much fun to me at the moment.
I heard a door open and close and looked over the back of the couch to see Donny slip out of the spare room that Amy was sleeping in. I smiled. "Hey, dude, whatcha doin'?"
He glanced at me as he pulled the door shut quietly. "Nothing," he answered.
I turned back to my comic book for a few minutes. Twenty-two years old and I still read these things. I laughed at the thought. Oh well. Not like there was anything better to do.
Donny walked around the couch and grabbed the remote. He stared at it for a moment, then set it back on the coffee table. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he put his legs up on the loveseat and sprawled out, rubbing his forehead. I set the book on my lap. "Somethin' botherin' you Don-san?"
"Hmm?" He glanced at me, as if I'd just interrupted a deep thought. "Oh. No, I'm alright."
"You look like you got a killer headache."
He shrugged. "It's been a rough couple of nights."
I studied him carefully. "Is it Amy?"
"Yeah. Sorta." He sighed and looked away. "I dunno. But yeah, I'm worried about her."
"Why? She'll be safe here 'til they catch her dad."
He turned onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms. "No, it's not that," he mumbled, eyes closed. "I know she's safe. But she doesn't. It's just that… it's like she's terrified of everyone. Like every time I open my mouth, I'm trying to manipulate her into saying or doing something. And she cowers all the time, like I'm going to hit her."
"Well, that's how she was raised."
He opened his eyes and looked at me. "Yeah. I know. But it's sad."
I watched him for a moment. "I'm surprised that she acts that way with you, though."
"Why do you say that?"
I shrugged. "It's just that she seems to trust you. A lot more than she trusts any of us, anyway. I've never seen her cringe at something you did or said."
"Well, she has," he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. It was quiet for a moment. "And you know, it's not really that. It's just that she's so suspicious of everything. Everything I say, everything I do." Our eyes met again. "God help me if I suggest taking blood from her so I can run a blood test. She totally freaks out."
I smiled. "But she lets you take it."
He considered that for a moment, and his eyes closed as he tried to relax. "Yeah," he mumbled. "She lets me take it. Eventually."
"See? She trusts you."
He sighed. "I guess so."
"She's a lot more relaxed when you're around, too," I informed. "You and Sasha."
"Yeah."
He didn't sound convinced. Or particularly interested, for that matter. I smiled, trying to read his expression but unable to do so. "You got a thing for her?"
He opened his eyes and glared at me. "Mikey, she's fourteen," he sighed, shooting me a pathetic look.
I shrugged. "Yeah, I know."
"She's just a child."
"Well, I'm not saying now," I laughed. "But in a few years… you know."
He glared at me, but it was obvious that he didn't mean it. I'd hit a nerve. I laughed inwardly. Way to go, Mike. Once again, you have done it. "In a few years, I'll think about it," he shot. "It's not like that age gap is going to decrease."
"Nah, but it'll get less important. Eight years when you're fourteen is half your life. But when you're fifty…"
He reached underneath him and grabbed a pillow. It hit my chest and bounced to the floor. I laughed.
Raphael walked into the room. "Leo up yet?" he asked.
I shook my head, picking up the pillow from off the floor. "Not that I know of." I glanced at my watch. It was almost seven. He was usually out of bed an hour ago. "He's probably up. I think something's bothering him."
Raph didn't acknowledge me. He just walked to Leo's door and knocked.
RAPHAEL:
It took him a moment to answer. "Who is it?" Leo's voice came through the door.
"It's me," I answered.
I heard the door unlock and it cracked open. I pushed through it into the room. "We need to talk," I growled as Leo shut the door behind me. He was staring at me as if he were shocked.
He studied me carefully. "About what?"
"It's about Sasha," I started. "There's something you need to know about her."
"Uh, Raph…" he tried to interrupt me.
"She's a prostitute, Leo," I continued, ignoring him. "And she's doing heroin and god knows what else and if she's bringin' that shit back into our lair..."
Leo cringed. "Raphael…"
I didn't allow him to cut me off yet. "She needs to fucking get out of here, Leo. And if you don't kick her out than I will."
I heard a noise behind me and spun around.
Sasha sat up on Leonardo's bed.
