Betrayal
You're getting closer
To pushing me off of life's little edge
'Cause I'm a loser
And sooner or later you know I'll be dead
You're getting closer...
You're holding the rope and I'm taking the fall
'Cause I'm a loser
I'm a loser, yeah
-3 Doors Down
"Loser"
RAPHAEL:
It went on like that for months. I didn't know where you were most of the time. I tried not to think about it. I tried not to get angry. I drowned myself in alcohol and watched the clock, wondering if I'd see you. I think in all those minutes that passed I thought of you for a fraction of every one of them.
I also thought about Sasha. It was hard not to think about her, when she was always in my face. She didn't understand the concept of the word "over". As in "it's over between us". She also didn't seem to understand that there was nothing there to begin with. Or maybe she understood better than I thought. Maybe she knew that if she pushed me hard enough, and picked her moments, she'd put me over the edge. I guess I knew it too. So I tried to stay away from her. But in those moments of weakness... when you were a million miles away... it got hard to refuse her.
She backed down for a few weeks. I think she must've had it planned. She stepped back for just long enough to allow me to let down my guard. And I did. And then she hit my emotions with the force of a tidal wave.
SASHA:
He slipped out of the lair at two in the morning. I followed him at a safe distance. If he noticed me, he didn't say anything. On the surface, it was raining. Water pounded on the streets of New York as I followed him out of the sewers. I was drenched in seconds, but I didn't mind.
I was expecting him to go to the bar. But that's not where he went. Instead, he headed for a dark alley. I followed, curious, and saw him climb the fire escape. I followed him all the way to the roof and saw him leaning against the ledge. The rain created a wall between us, an eerie gray mist separating our worlds. I approached him slowly, hesitantly. He looked so tired, yet he wasn't sleeping. I listened to the shower pounding on the city, a violent tantrum raging through the streets. He seemed oblivious, but I knew he could probably feel my approach. He seemed to have a knack for that. Guess it was all of his ninja training.
I leaned on the cement ledge next to him, expecting a burst of anger. But none came. The rain fell heavy on my shoulders, soaking my hair and dripping down my clothes. His head was hung between his shoulders, his eyes closed. The rain dripped down his face, but he remained still as a statue. I wasn't sure he was even breathing.
"You look tired," I whispered.
He was quiet for a moment. "I am tired," he finally answered.
"Why aren't you in bed?"
He opened his eyes slowly. A hint of annoyance flashed across his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Can't sleep."
"Mmm," I acknowledged. "Where's Kat?"
"Work."
"Wasn't she supposed to be home tonight?"
He mumbled something in confirmation, but I don't think it was actually a word. "It must be so hard on you," I said, staring down at the cars far below us. The rain beat on my shoulders and back as I leaned over the ledge.
"Yeah," he muttered. He hid his face in his hands. "I never see her anymore."
There was a long pause. "I know it doesn't help much but... I know how you feel. And I'm sorry." He lowered his hands again and stared down at the street below. "I hate seeing anyone like this," I whispered, resting a hand on his arm. "But especially you. Because I still feel like I owe you."
"For what?"
"For everything you've done. For me and Amy. And for..." I paused. It wasn't a good idea to push him. Not yet. Not like that. "For everything..."
"You don't owe me anything," he mumbled.
I looked away. There was a long silence. "How do you know?" he finally asked.
"Hmm?"
"You said you know how I feel. How?"
I smiled, hiding the cynicism I felt. "Jackson was like that. Before he died."
He looked to my hand. "Why do you still wear the ring?"
I shrugged, instinctively covering it with my hand. "I dunno. Guess it kind of helps to ease the pain sometimes, you know? To think that I was part of something special once." I considered my words and sighed. Who was I kidding? "Actually, it was never like that," I admitted. "It was all wrong. We only knew each other for about a month. And then, like, a week after we were married, he ended up taking off to France on some business endeavor. He was killed in a car wreck after six months there. I never saw him all during that time." I laughed cynically as I considered the thought. "So trust me, I know how you feel."
"What kind of business?" Raph questioned. His voice was monotone and emotionless.
"He was a computer engineer. One of the best. I thought it would be great, at first. I mean, he made this ungodly amount of money and had a bunch of investments in the stock market. Sent me money all the time and then wouldn't even talk to me on the phone. He just totally didn't care anything about me. Then when he died, the company he'd invested in went bankrupt or something and I lost everything. And he had all these debts I didn't know about, that I had to pay off. I ended up on the streets."
He didn't answer. I sighed. "Work was so important to him. Really, I just wanted to spend some time with him. But he didn't really seem to care. Work was so much more important."
"Yeah," he mumbled. I knew I'd hit a nerve.
"Do you ever feel like that?" I prodded.
No response. I didn't really expect one. I knew him well enough to guess what he would and would not say. He would not admit to any kind of emotion. "Sometimes I wonder what I got myself into, you know?" I sighed. "And then it was so 'bad' to get my needs fulfilled from somewhere else."
"An affair," he rephrased. I wasn't sure if it was a question or a realization or what.
"Yeah, that's what it would be called," I mumbled back. "And I did. I slept around a lot. He knew about it, and he didn't care. Once or twice, it was more than a one night stand." I glanced at him. "I won't lie to you, Raphael. You were the best lay I ever had. I really wanted to see you again. But I could never find you."
"There was a reason for that," he informed me.
"What reason?"
"I didn't want you falling in love with me. And I knew you were prone to do that."
I studied him for a moment. "You saw that, huh?"
He glanced up at me. "I won't lie to you either, Sasha. I knew you were married that night even before I left the bar with you. I notice those things. And regardless of what we did or why we did it, I didn't want do be a permanent fixture between you and your husband."
"Was it wrong?" I questioned. "At the time? Did you think it was wrong?"
He shrugged. "I didn't care. I was an asshole back then."
"So you did?"
"Yeah. Sure." He sounded disinterested in his response. "I knew the difference between right and wrong, even if I chose not to let it affect me."
I sighed. "I wish it was always that simple," I whispered.
He cast a questioning glance at me. "What?"
"Right and wrong. I wish there was no gray area in between."
He looked away again. "What makes you think there is?"
I considered his words for a moment before I spoke. "Let me ask you this," I started. "Now that you're on this side of it, does it seem so wrong?" He didn't answer. "When the person you're with doesn't give a damn about you? And you have needs that they don't care about?"
He glanced at me and I saw pain in his eyes. "Don't ask me that, Sasha. You know how I feel."
"Yes," I whispered. "I do. But I'm not sure you know how you feel right now."
He turned to me and I leaned back against the ledge. God, he was intimidating when he tried to be. I felt his fingers wrap around my upper arms and suddenly, he was kissing me. I was totally shocked. I hadn't been expecting that! I closed my eyes and pressed to him, instinct guiding me. The rain ran down my face and into my mouth as it opened and joined with his. I felt his grip tighten as he explored deeply, his tongue circling mine. Passion welled up inside of me and I longed to touch him, but he held my arms to my sides. He closed the kiss slowly, allowing our lips to remain together for a moment longer. We breathed air from each other's lungs. Then, slowly, he pulled back.
I opened my eyes and searched him silently. He was staring at me with a strange look on his face. I had never seen a mix of so many emotions. Shock, awe, desire, fear... panic. His grip on my arms loosened and he took a few shaky breaths. I reached up hesitantly and touched the side of his face. He jerked back and grabbed my wrist. Anger flashed, but quickly dissipated. It was replaced by a look of horror. Without a word, he threw my hands to my sides and spun away from me, disappearing into the rain.
LEONARDO:
He came into the lair a little before midnight, and stopped short when he saw me. "Hey, Raph, where ya been?" It wasn't a demand. It was small talk. Luckily, he saw that. He'd been touchy lately, and I didn't want to start a fight.
He studied me for a moment. "What are you doing up?" he asked, choosing not to answer.
I shrugged. "I haven't been able to sleep lately."
He gave one more glance around the room and walked over to the couch. "Why not?"
"A lot of it's Amy, I think. I'm worried about her. She's getting close to her due date and she's starting to get a little panicky. Not to mention that she's a little emotional." I smiled. An understatement. Amy was a lot emotional.
Raphael sat down on the arm of the couch. The light from the oil lamp flickered across his features. "She gonna go to April's? Like we were talking earlier?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Don thinks she'll be safe for another week or so though. She's freaked about going up to the surface again."
"Is she going alone?"
"No. Sasha's going with her."
At the mention of Sasha's name, he tensed. I studied him carefully. "Are you okay, Raph?" I questioned, not wanting to pressure him. I knew something was bothering him. It had been for days. He was trying to hide it, but I could see through him. My brother and quite possibly my best friend, there wasn't much he could hide from me. Mike had noticed it too, and thought it had something to do with Sasha. I hadn't noticed the connection for myself until now.
"I'm fine," he answered, looking away.
I wasn't buying that. "You sure?"
He was quiet for a moment, as if he were considering his options. "Yeah, I'm... fine."
"Okay," I answered. If he didn't want to talk about it, I wasn't about to force him. I knew what that would lead to. He hid his face behind his hands and for a long time, it was silent.
Finally, he stood up. "Okay, well, I'm gonna go crash," he mumbled. He avoided eye contact with me as he walked to his room and shut himself in.
DONATELLO:
"I feel like a freak."
I laughed quietly and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was lying on her back, her head resting in the crook of my elbow. "You're not a freak," I assured her. "Trust me."
She turned her head and smiled faintly as our eyes met. "Donny, I'm fourteen years old and nine months pregnant," she reminded me. "I'll never fit in. Never be normal. Not that I ever really was but..."
I pulled her head close to me and rested it on my shoulder. "You could always go for adoption," I sighed. "It's not to late for that, and you know it. And you know I'll support you in whatever decision you make."
"No," she mumbled. "No, I don't want to do that."
I didn't think so. "Just a suggestion."
She was quiet for a moment, then she laughed quietly. "What?" I questioned, pulling away and looking at her.
She took my hands and placed it on her raised stomach. And I felt the baby kick against my palm. "She's restless," she whispered.
"It's a 'she'?" I questioned, amused.
Amy nodded. "I think so."
"How do you know?"
She considered that for a minute. "I dunno. I just... feel it."
I smiled. "What are you going to name her?"
There was a moment of silence. The baby moved again. "I was thinking Salome."
"Salome," I repeated. "Means peace."
She smiled. "I know. From the Hebrew Shalom."
"It was also the name of Heradotus's daughter. Did you know that?"
She laughed quietly. "Yes."
I pulled close to her. "It's late," I whispered.
"I know."
She sighed deeply, and I felt her fall asleep in my arms.
KATARINA:
I stood and walked to the counter where I had been separating scripts earlier. It looked as if a tornado had struck the papers. I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger. Who the hell did this? I sorted through the mess of papers that were strewn all over, knowing that if any one of them didn't get to its proper place, I'd end up with the blame.
It took me nearly ten minutes to get the mess sorted out. I rushed the scripts to their owners and got to the control room about two minutes before the show. I was supposed to be there ten minutes before we went on the air, so I was really pushing it. But I'd been running all morning. Finally, I had an opportunity to just sit here and relax. "Can I get my scripts please?" Christie demanded.
I clenched my fists so hard I felt my nails draw blood in my palms. Her royal highness couldn't possibly get her own damn scripts! I ran to the newsroom grabbed the scripts... and dropped them all over the floor. The anger boiled over. "Dammit!" I practically yelled. I was glad no one was in the newsroom to hear me except for Jess and an editor who'd wandered in.
I was really starting to hate this job. Every aspect of it was beginning to wear on me. I couldn't stand much more of it. They had decided that we were doing fine with less producers. So when they hired more, they only hired two. So my hours were still crazy. And there was nothing I could do about it. It was slowly but surely destroying my life.
I grabbed the pile of papers and sprinted back to the control room, where I dropped them in Christie's lap. Here's your fucking scripts! The anchor was already reading the first few words by the time I sat down in front of the prompter. My pulse pounding, anger clouding my vision, I tried desperately to pace myself with the anchors as they stumbled through the first headlines. It vaguely resembled my writing. I'd written it, after all, but Christie had changed nearly every word.
"And blood splatter is one thing always present at a crime scene..." I clenched my teeth, furious. Not only was that less fluid than what I had written, but it was also flat-out wrong. Dammit! I hated when we said things wrong on the air. Especially when it was changed from something I wrote that was right!
I made it to the first commercial break and immediately, the phone rang. It was the anchor, on the set. Christie took the call, and turned to me. "Robin says you need to slow down, she's having a hard time following the prompter."
DONATELLO:
"Donny, I think you'll want to see this."
I walked into the living room and stood behind the couch, watching April. The words sent a wave of sadness over me. "A three-year-old boy infected with an unknown disease has died. Timothy Clareson has been in a coma for nearly five months. Doctors say they still don't know why the boy suddenly died. Timothy's mother was killed back in Arpil. His sister, fourteen-year-old Amy Clareson is still missing. That investigation is ongoing."
Leo and I exchanged glances. There was a moment of silence. I looked away. "I think you'd better tell her," he mumbled.
I looked up at him. "Why?" I questioned. I wasn't arguing. I wasn't curious. I was stalling.
"I think it'll be easiest coming from you."
I sighed. "It's not going to be easy no matter who tells her."
"Donny..."
I closed my eyes, and breathed deep. "She in her room?"
"Yeah."
Amy was lying on her back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I stopped short as I saw her. She moved her eyes to me, and then turned her head. She laughed quietly. "This must look really strange," she smiled.
I stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind me. "Uh, yeah, a little," I answered hesitantly.
She laughed again. "It feels good on my back," she informed me. "It kind of takes some of the pressure away."
I nodded slowly and sat down next to her, my legs crossed. She looked up at me, her light brown hair fanning around her. The smile fell from her face as she noticed the expression on mine. "Something wrong, Donny?"
The look on her face was so innocent, so unsuspecting, I hated telling her this. "Amy..." I struggled. I sighed deeply. "Your brother..."
Sadness flooded to her eyes, and I knew I didn't have to say anything more. She sighed deeply, and looked away. I took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry."
Her eyes closed, and she remained silent for a few moments. "No," she finally breathed. "It's okay. He was already gone."
She looked to me again. "Did they say how he died?"
I shook my head. "I don't think they really know. They just said he died suddenly. I'll try to find out more, though."
She smiled faintly, and raised her hand to my plastron. "It's okay, Donny. You don't have to."
My heart broke as I studied her expression. She was trying so hard to hide the pain, but I could see through the smile. Sadness clouded her eyes, but she didn't cry. God, she was strong. Or maybe she was just numb. I lowered next to her on the floor, still holding her hand, and pulled her head to my chest. "Amy..."
I wasn't trying to get her attention, or even really trying to comfort her. It just felt good to say her name. I felt her breathe deep and kissed her temple.
I froze, suddenly realizing what I'd done. What's wrong with you, Donny? I'd kissed her before. Her forehead. Her hair. The kind of things a father or an older brother would do. A normal father, that is. But I was pushing it. That wasn't an "older brother" kiss. And I hadn't meant to. It just... happened. I looked to her for a reaction. Her eyes were closed, a blank expression on her face. I studied her for a moment. She hadn't noticed it. But I had, and it worried me.
Why? What's so wrong about falling in love with her? The words sounded strange to my mind. She's smart, pretty, strong...
Fourteen!
Yeah, well, there's that. But in a few years...
In a few years, it would be different. But a few years was not now. Hell, I didn't even know if she'd be here in a few years. I doubted it, and I couldn't set my sights on that.
You might as well stop fighting it; you know you love her.
Shut up. That's wrong.
No, it's not wrong to feel this way toward her... It's wrong to take advantage of her because of what you're feeling.
I stopped to ponder that thought. I had no good comeback to the argument raging in my mind. Amy breathed deep and rested against me. I was still surprised that she had not had more of a reaction to news of her brother's death. Maybe she was still in shock. Regardless of her reasoning, she was calm.
"Donny?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think he was in pain?"
I considered that for a moment. "No, I don't think so."
She opened her eyes and stared up at me. "What do you think killed him?"
I sighed and shook my head. "I don't know, Amy," I whispered, cringing at how painfully honest the words were. "I'm not sure we'll ever know."
