Choice
LEONARDO:
There was a knock on my door that broke my concentration. "Hey Leo, can I talk to you?"
Donatello. I shook away the feeling of quiet distress and blinked a few times, trying to gather my thoughts as I came back to reality. "Come on in," I invited.
He slipped through the door and shut it behind him. For a minute, he just stood there. "I didn't mean to interrupt," he mumbled, seeing me on the floor. "Should I come back later?"
"No, it's okay," I assured him, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. "What's up?"
He glanced around, as if he were searching for words, and finally came to sit near me, his legs crossed. He hid his face in his hands for a moment and I studied him carefully. Something was really bothering him. And he wasn't trying to hide it.
He ran his hands down his face and looked up at me. "It's Amy," he mumbled. "She's, uh..." He shifted nervously and laughed, as if he couldn't believe his own words. "She's pregnant."
I felt my eyes widen with shock. The fourteen-year-old, looked-like-twelve girl was pregnant? "Are you sure?" I finally managed.
He sighed. "Yeah, she is. She's known for a while now. Just didn't say anything."
I closed my eyes and breathed deep, gathering my thoughts. "How far along is she?"
"Almost four months. She's already starting to show. I didn't suspect it, so it never occurred to me, you know?"
I nodded slowly, concern replacing the initial shock. "How does she feel about it?"
"Scared to death," he exhaled. His breath came in a rush, as if he'd been holding it, and his eyes raised again. "And I can't say I blame her. She's only just turned fourteen."
"Does she want to keep it?"
He hid his face again. "I don't know. We didn't get that far. She just told me and... I was too shocked to say anything." He paused for a moment. "I mean, I don't know why I was so shocked. Back in Biblical times, women generally started having children when they were thirteen or fourteen. But... I don't know. She's just... she seems so young!"
He looked back at me, his eyes sad and searching. "I mean, I remember when I was fourteen and I can't imagine..." He breathed deep, struggling to get his emotions under control, and leaned back on his arms. "I guess... I just don't even know what to say to her."
I nodded. I knew exactly what he was saying. I was a little dumbfounded myself. "Where is she now?" I questioned.
"Asleep," he gestured. "In my room. She cried herself back to sleep. She could probably use it, too, since she didn't sleep much last night."
I sighed and hid my face for a moment. He was asking me for advice on something I knew absolutely nothing about. "Leo?"
I dropped my hands and looked up at him. "You need to find out what she wants to do. And support her in whatever that is."
He knew that. I could tell he knew it. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. "Leo…" he started hesitantly. "If she decides to have this child… and she decides to keep it… she'll have nowhere to go. She's only fourteen." He opened his eyes again. "I've been talking to the police. They would give her father custody of her." I cringed at the thought. "Assuming they eventually recognize him as a suspect, which isn't in any way a guarantee, there was a possibility that she could go and stay with her maternal uncle in Canada for a while, during the trial. But apparently he has prejudices against teenaged girls on the stereotypical grounds that they are promiscuous. If she has a child…"
He didn't finish. I gave him a minute, but he never tried to continue the thought. It was okay. I knew what he was saying. "So you've talked to her uncle?"
"No. I've talked to the police. They've talked to her uncle."
"And you don't think he'd consider the circumstances?"
"I doubt it."
I considered that for a minute. I knew where this was going. He knew it too. But we were going to dance around it until one of us finally decided to confront it. "She can't get out on her own until she's eighteen. Unless maybe she lived with Sasha."
"No," I mumbled. "If Sasha wanted an apartment and a normal life, it would be different." My eyes met his. "But I don't want to see Amy end up on the streets."
I sighed and stared down at the floor, knowing what this meant. If she had nowhere to go, we had to keep her here until we could find her a shelter somewhere else. Like it or not. "Do you foresee a problem with her staying here?" I asked.
"Not immediately, no," he answered. "But indefinitely…?" He paused. "And then there's the issue of Sasha. I don't think she and Raphael like each other too much."
"Yeah, I've noticed that," I admitted. Although I doubt that I'd use those words to describe it…
"I dunno, Leonardo," he sighed. "As far as I'm concerned, there's no problem with Amy staying here for… however long she has to. But I don't want to offer anything if you're not behind me on this."
I couldn't help but smile. "Hey, Donny, I trust your judgement. You should know that I'll support you."
He sighed and looked away. "Right," he mumbled under his breath. "You have more faith in me than I have in myself, you know that Leo?"
RAPHAEL:
I can feel the heat from her body radiate through mine as she presses down on me and kisses my neck. I moan as her tongue runs across my skin, warm and wet. She reaches between us and guides me to the hot opening between her legs.
"Mmm... Kat..."
She laughs quietly and sits up, running her nails down my sides. I close my eyes, lost in the heat and passion of our joined bodies. Her legs are on either side of my hips, her hands holding my wrists to the bed. I can turn her onto her back easily, but I don't. I allow her to tower over me, allow her to take charge.
She leans down, pressing me against the mattress, and I feel her teeth against my neck. It's not painful, but it is rough. For a moment, she's caught me off guard. She's never been this aggressive before. But I can't say I'm not enjoying it immensely. I breathe deep, relaxing my body as she goes down on me hard. It's an interesting role switch. It feels amazing. I draw in a slow breath as she kneads and prods at the vulnerable places of my body.
I open my eyes... and gasp. Oh my god! Suddenly, it doesn't feel so good. Shocked and panicked, I try to jerk away. But I can't move. It's as if I'm suddenly paralyzed beneath her. She smiles, knowing I'm helpless. Beyond her, I can see Katarina watching... crying...
***
I bolted upright, gasping for air. I could feel sweat run down my forehead and trickle between my eyes. I wiped it away roughly and swallowed hard. There was darkness around me, but a sliver of light came through the door. Why? my subconscience screamed. Why the fuck are you dreaming about her?
I breathed deep, trying to wash away the warm, soft feel of her body. God, that was too real. I felt somebody next to me and turned to see Katarina lying on top of the blankets. I glanced at the clock. It was almost nine in the morning. She'd probably just gotten home. I watched her for a moment, and determined that she was asleep. Slowly, I lowered my body next to hers again.
I ran my hand over her gently. She didn't even bother to get undressed now. I sighed as I slipped out from under the blankets. I sat up and moved over her, straddling her hips. She stirred as I unzipped her jeans and eased them down her legs. I heard her moan quietly as I dropped them next to the bed. She drew in a deep breath as I moved over her again and took her hands. "Come on," I guided quietly.
She cringed, and moaned, as I pulled her up to a sitting position. As quickly and gently as I could, I raised her T-shirt over her head. I held the small of her back as I found the clasp to her bra and unhooked it. I laid her on her back again and pulled the straps down on her arms.
I ran my eyes over her naked body, drinking in every detail. Desire burned in my chest, and I sighed. She was fast asleep. Even through all the movement, she hadn't woken up. She was exhausted.
I lay down next to her again, reaching my arm across her chest. I noted the scar there that ran from her left shoulder, across her chest, and under her opposite breast. I ran my finger along the scar, memories overwhelming me. I owed my brothers' lives to that scar, and probably my own as well. It was the evidence of her self-sacrifice. She'd given everything for our relationship: her family, friends, comfortable life. That seemed so long ago now. It was as if she'd forgotten how much we once met to each other. Now I played second to her job, and to her school, and to god-knows-what-else.
I brushed her hair back from her eyes. She breathed deep and nuzzled against me. I smiled at the way her breath warmed my neck. I was content just to watch her sleep, and feel her body next to mine. She breathed slow, and I pulled closer to her. I kissed her shoulder and moved to the top of her chest, running my hands over her soft breasts lightly. I didn't want to wake her, but my body was craving her. The desire was painful.
"Mmm... Raph, stop... come on," she moaned, squirming. I pulled away, the smile falling from my face. I studied her expression. Still fast asleep. Even in her sleep, she refused me. I sighed, and stood up.
AMY:
I don't know why I was huddled in a corner of the room. To the part of my brain that could still think logically, it seemed like an odd place to sit. But I was more comfortable here than elsewhere in the room. Or in the world, for that matter. I cried silently, clutching my knees to my chest, and cringed as I heard the door open. "Amy?"
He saw me, and approached slowly. "Amy, are you alright? I thought you'd be sleeping."
"I was," I choked. "I... had a dream."
He knelt next to me and pulled my head to his chest, rocking me gently. "It's okay," he whispered as I cried. "Come on."
I didn't have a chance to ask him where we were going. He picked me up, one arm under my knees and the other under my arms, and carried me to the bed. It was effortless for him. He laid me on the mattress and pulled the blankets around my chin, settling on top of them. I felt the tension slowly drain from my body as he ran his hand up and down my arm, comforting me.
"I shouldn't be here," I whispered.
He was quiet for a moment. "Where's here?"
"In... in your bed. I mean, your brothers..."
He sighed and stroked my hair gently. "Don't worry about it, Amy. We've got nothing to hide."
I swallowed hard, choking back the tears. Maybe he didn't.
He was still talking, but I wasn't really listening. His voice was so calming, it was enough just to hear his whispered words. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. I glanced at him and saw one arm supporting his head, and the other was resting on my upper arm. It wasn't a suggestive gesture. I never felt threatened by him that way.
"You alright?" he asked.
I breathed deep. Having him close was an immense relief. I felt protected, and nearly invincible. This is what it feels like to have someone looking out for you… "Yeah, I'm okay."
He brushed a few strands of hair away from my eyes, and his hand returned to his side. "Amy, I have to ask you some questions. But they can wait if you don't want to talk now."
I studied him for a moment. "No, Donny, go ahead," I assured him. "You can ask me."
He hesitated. "Does your father know? About the baby? Did you ever tell him?"
"No," I whispered. "I was too afraid to tell him, even though I knew before I left. I mean, we were only with Mom for, like, less than a month. And he wouldn't have believed me, besides. Not that it was his. He would've said it was my boyfriend's baby and I was just trying to blame him. He'd never believe me that he was the only one who... who ever..."
I couldn't finish. He didn't press me. "Okay. Question two. How would your father go about finding you now?" he questioned. "Friends he can question? A boyfriend?"
I tensed. "No. Not except Sasha. I... I'm not real social."
He inspected me carefully. "Amy…"
He didn't believe me. I turned away from him and curled into a ball as I started to cry. For a few moments, it was quiet. Then he sighed deeply and rested his hand on my arm again. I flinched instinctively, but forced the reaction aside.
"What, exactly, do you want to do from here?"
That was such a huge question, I could not begin to answer it. I didn't know what I wanted. "I don't know, Donny."
"Well, the child... I assume you want to have it. Since you've waited this long to say anything about it. It's probably too late to get an abortion if you wanted one. Have you considered adoption?"
"No."
"Why not?"
I sighed. "For one thing, adoption requires legal work."
"There are crisis centers that they developed where you can drop the baby off with them rather than throw it in a dumpster."
The thought made my stomach turn. "Oh, God, Donny, I could never do that."
"Well, I'm not suggesting you dispose of it," he sighed. "I'm just saying... there is a way out. If you want it."
I considered the thought. Something about it was appealing. Maybe, somehow, I could enjoy a lost childhood. I sighed. No. I couldn't do that. I could never do that. I'd never be like people my age. "Kids" my age. And I never had been, I realized. I was having sex before most children knew such a thing existed. That had forced me to grow up at an alarming rate. So fast, in fact, that I still had symptoms of a psychological whiplash. I could see it in myself, I was sure others could see it in me.
Running from my past wasn't going to solve my problems. Whether I liked it or not, my father had made me into what I was today. The good, the bad, the ugly. The rest of my life, I would build on a foundation he had laid, whether I chose to accept it or not.
For the first time, I was forced to evaluate how I felt about my situation. Up to this point, my reactions had all been handed to me. I was helpless to change my situation, and I reacted accordingly. But now, for once, I had a choice to make. I rested my hands on my stomach and considered the life there. My body already felt different. And the emotional connection to the child inside of me was more intense than anything I'd ever felt before. Why?
Because it's hope. It's a new life.
Hope. The word sounded strange to me. But it was the only word to describe the feeling that was slowly creeping through me, spreading from my womb to every nerve in my body. Hope. This child inside of me was hope.
"No," I finally whispered. "No, I... I want to keep my baby. I want to... to try at least. I don't know if I'll actually be able to." I looked up at him and saw nothing but support, and strength.
"If any good can come of everything I've been through," I whispered, "this child is it. And I wouldn't give that up for the world."
KATARINA:
He followed me out of the bedroom and through the living room to the kitchen. "Raph, I'm not avoiding you," I sighed. I hated this conversation. And I hated that we were having it again. "I just have things to do."
"And I'm obviously not on that list."
I glared at him. "It's all about the sex for you, isn't it?" I shot, noting the obvious innuendo. "I mean, never mind that my life is a living hell right now. You're unhappy because you can't..."
"Kat, if you really believe that, you've really been gone too long because you don't know me anymore."
"Or maybe I just know you too well," I mumbled under my breath.
"Look, I need to talk to you," he snapped, anger seeping into his voice. "And it's more important than your job or your classes; it's about us! Doesn't that mean anything to you anymore?"
I spun to face him. "What the fuck do you want from me, Raphael!"
"Five minutes of your precious time would work just fine! And if I'm not worth that to you…"
"You're so fucking dramatic, you know that?"
He glared at me. "Don't patronize me, Kat."
"You're acting like a child!"
I saw his muscles tense and his fists clenched. I noted the fury burning in his eyes as I stared him down in defiance of his silent threat. "Go ahead, Raph, you wanna hit me?" I challenged. "It'll be the last fucking thing you do to me!"
"What the hell difference does it make?" he growled.
Anger stung at the backs of my eyes. "Fuck you!"
I didn't even see him move. All I knew was that one second he was standing five feet away and the next second, my back was pressed to the cold, hard metal of the refrigerator. He gripped my wrists painfully and glared at me, his anger fierce. I breathed hard, furious, but knowing all too well that I was powerless against him. For a long time, we just stared at each other. An intense, consuming fury flowed between us. A pang of fear hit me, but I quickly suppressed it. I may be no match for him physically, but he wouldn't get away with it if he actually hurt me. I'd make sure of it.
An immense sadness welled up in my chest as I stared into his eyes. He was mere inches away from me, and I suddenly realized how easily I could see through him, into the depths of his soul. What I saw there shocked, confused, and pained me all at the same time. His anger was slowly turning to pain, just as intense. Desperation flashed across his eyes and he blinked back tears. I could tell that he was angry at the fact that he couldn't stop them from forming. His facial expression was still furious, but I saw beyond that. I felt the anger drain from my own features and a mix of concern, guilt, and sadness replaced it. He unclenched his teeth and took in a sharp breath, on the brink of collapse.
Without warning, he kissed me. Hard. I felt hot tears burn my cheeks, but they weren't my own. He sought me desperately, hungrily. I kissed him back, still somewhat shocked by everything I was seeing and feeling. I couldn't move if I'd wanted to anyway. He had me pinned.
I felt him shudder as a silent sob wracked his body. He didn't pull away. Instead, he just moved his lips to the side of my face and down to my neck. I stayed still, unmoving. His grip on my wrists was painful, but I said nothing. He rested his head on my shoulder and I felt his breath come in gasps across my skin. He said nothing, just cried silently for a few moments. Then he jerked away and left the room without looking at me. I stared after him, rubbing my wrists.
