*Chapter One*
Shannon:
Frustrating. That was the only word to describe my brother. Not that I didn't love him, but he drove me crazy sometimes. Like right now... in the middle of one of his endless speeches. "I'm just worried about you."
Oh yeah, "overprotective" was another word for him.
I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes as I absently twirled my fingers in the phone cord. Of course he was worried about me. When was he not worried about me? "Look, Joseph, I'm a big girl, okay?" I sighed, pushing away from the wall. I walked to the counter, swinging the long cord that trailed behind me. "I can take care of myself. I'm not as helpless as you seem to think I am." I jumped onto the counter, dangling my legs a few feet off the floor. "I'm a lot better off here than I was at home and you know it."
"You're not really that big, Shannon," he shot at me. I could hear the impatience creeping into his voice. "You just turned eighteen."
I groaned. "Joseph, please... Spare me, okay?"
This lecture was like an old movie I'd seen a few hundred times, where I could not only mimic every word, but I could put emphasis on the same syllables as he did. It was the same thing, every time. You're getting to the point in your life where you need to settle down, maybe finish your education, find yourself a boyfriend...
"You're getting to the point in your life..."
I sighed. It was only a matter of time before the conversation shifted to the real heart of the problem. I glanced at the clock, counting the seconds, not really listening to his rambling. Finally, it came. "I just want to make sure you're taken care of, Shannon."
I glared at nothing in particular, wishing he could somehow see the daggers coming out of my eyes. "For your information, I'm fully 'taken care of'," I shot sarcastically. "Just because I left home doesn't mean I'm out here all alone in the world. But thanks for the concern, Mr. I'd-help-you-but-I-don't-want-to-piss-off-Mommy-and-Daddy."
He hesitated, like I knew he would. I hoped he'd just drop it, before I really got pissed off. He knew I was right. He had no right to lecture me like this when he'd refused to help me the one time I'd needed his help. Of course, he'd deny that. "Circumstances," he'd say. It wasn't his fault. Maybe it really wasn't. Maybe that was why he felt the need to be so damn protective of me now.
When I'd first left home, I could've really used his support. But he didn't offer to help me then. In fact, he ignored my phone calls, e-mails, and pages. Though he'd never admit it, I knew it was because my parents wanted me to fall on my face. He didn't have the balls to stand up to them, didn't want to tarnish his golden boy image. That was fine. I'd survived. But it sure as hell wasn't his place to make suggestions for my life now.
"Alright Shannon," he sighed, giving up. Thank God. "I just want you to know that there are people who care about you."
I hid my face in my hand. "Drop it, Joseph," I warned, feeling anger stir. Don't you dare patronize me..
.
"Well, I know you're independent, Shannon," he started, choosing his words carefully.
I nodded slowly. Why don't you just go ahead and say it, Joseph? I thought bitterly. "I know you're dramatic and you like the drama of being alone in the world..."
"But I don't want to break my connections with you."
I guess that was meant to be comforting. As far as my parents were concerned, I'd dropped off the face of the Earth. And in a way, it was nice to know that if I were to die in this hell hole, there was at least someone who would care. But at the same time, I didn't want him fretting over me.
"Thanks for your concern, Joseph," I told him, wanting to end this conversation before he got started again. "Take care."
"Until the next time, then."
"Yeah."
I hung up and stared at the phone for a moment. His voice echoed in my mind. I just want you to know that there are people who care about you. My parents sure as hell didn't. They had only wanted one child. That would be Joseph, my older brother by five years. He was the golden, perfect son and the apple of my parents' eyes. I was a mistake, and they never tried to hide that fact. Unwanted and unloved, I could sense the fact that I was accidental at an early age. Any other normal child would've tried their hardest to please their parents in any way possible. Not me. I was rebellious, defiant, and high –spirited, all qualities that my parents abhorred. It made them hate me even more as I grew older. By the time I got to high school, we were constantly at each other's throats. The day I turned eighteen, there was no party. No celebration, no cake and ice cream. I declared my full independence and moved into my own apartment. No surprise that I didn't leave on good terms.
I shook the memories aside and walked into the living room. For a few minutes, I stood still, staring at the ripped up furniture. It was in bad shape, but it was mine. I made my own way, and paid for everything I owned with my own money. I sat down with a heavy sigh and stretched my legs out in front of me. I yawned and closed my eyes, placing my hands behind my head.
I was half-asleep when a soft tapping got my attention. I opened my eyes and turned my head to the big living room window. A dark figure was on the fire escape, silhouetted by the moonlight. I smiled, immediately knowing who it was. I waved at him and he pointed to the lock. I sat up and shot him a questioning look, teasing. What? You mean you want me to unlock it? He crossed his arms over his plastron and cocked his head to the side, shooting me a pathetic look. I shrugged, like I didn't understand what he wanted.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Yeah, right. He hadn't gone far, and I knew it. I stood and walked to the window. Ever since that first night he'd walked me home, he insisted upon coming in this way. He was afraid that someone would open their door and see him standing out in the hallway. I guess I could understand that.
I flipped the lock and backed away, leaning against the counter. Even though I couldn't see him, I knew he was there. I studied the darkness, and waited.
Raphael:
I decided to make her wait for a while. Let her think I'd left, if she wanted to play that way. I smiled slightly as I clung to the shadows. I knew she couldn't see me. But I could see her. I studied her for a moment, absorbing every detail. Her soft, brown hair rested just above her shoulders, and her blue eyes were filled with a tired warmth. She stood still for a moment, and sighed as she turned away. Impatient tonight.
She looked tired. That was fine with me. I wasn't really in the mood for games, either. I'd spent the past hour and a half arguing with my brother. Every day, it got worse. Every hour, he got more and more overbearing and annoying. I could never really hate Leonardo, but I sure as hell hated being around him lately. There was no way to please him, and I was tired of trying.
Shannon was sitting on the sofa again when I finally slipped through the window. "Hey," I greeted. She looked up, forced a smile, and gave a half-hearted wave. "How are you?"
She shrugged. I leaned over her, my hands on the back of the tattered couch, my feet against the outsides of hers. I could feel skin meet skin below her khaki shorts. I stayed like that for a moment, towering over her. "Y'okay babe?"
She smiled again, genuinely this time, and put her arms around my neck. She kissed me quickly and pulled back slightly, meeting my eyes. When we broke, I turned and sat down next to her.
"Want something to drink?" she offered.
I shook my head, but said nothing. I'd had enough to drink lately. I needed to get away from the alcohol. Ironic, since the whole idea of going to the bar was to get away from home. That was what I was really running from. I didn't want to be home, but I didn't want to drown myself at the bar, so I was here. I didn't really feel like talking, though. I hoped Shannon wouldn't press for conversation. I just wanted to get away for a while, from everything. And I knew this was the best place to do it. Maybe the only place.
I tensed as I suddenly felt her hands on my shoulders. She laughed quietly. "Just relax, Raph," she whispered. "This'll feel good, I promise."
She massaged at the hard, sore muscles and I moaned involuntarily. She laughed. "You're so tight," she observed.
I smiled faintly. That was no surprise. "Does that feel good?" she inquired.
I breathed deep, taking in the faint scent of her perfume. I could feel the tension slowly ebbing out of my body and I tilted my head away from her, providing her easier access. "Mmm..."
She worked quietly for a few moments and ran her fingers lightly over my skin one last time before she stopped. I opened my eyes and turned to look at her. Her expression was reflective, thoughtful. "Shannon?" I prodded gently. "You alright?"
"Hmm?" she replied, snapping out of her trance.
I smiled. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"
She sighed and looked away. "I was just..." she started hesitantly. "Never mind."
"No, tell me," I pressed.
She sighed. "You'll just get mad and..."
"You know I hate it when you do that," I interrupted her. I reached over and cupped her chin, drawing her eyes back to mine. "Just tell me. I promise I won't get mad."
She studied me for a moment, then sighed as she pulled away. "It's just... I feel like I don't know anything about you." Suddenly, I knew where this was going. And I wasn't sure I liked it. "You don't ever tell me anything."
I sighed and leaned forward, hiding my face in my hands. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation, and it wouldn't be the last. But I didn't want to argue with her. "Okay, fine," I relented. "Ask me. What do you want to know?"
"Yeah, right," she smirked, distrustful.
I grinned at her. "No, seriously," I emphasized. "I'll answer you. What do you want to know?"
She studied me for a moment, saying nothing. I started to get a little worried. What did she want to know that was so hard for her to ask?
"I want to meet your family, Raphael."
I groaned and stood up. That wasn't a question, and it wasn't what I'd had in mind. "Shannon, we've been through this," I sighed, feeling the familiar frustration resurface. "Do we really have to do it again?"
A hardened look crossed her face. "And didn't I tell you that you'd just get pissed off at me?"
I breathed deep. "I'm not pissed at you, Shannon," I informed her. "It's just... you've gotta understand. My family is... different."
I had never actually given her a reason as to why she couldn't meet my family. That was probably because I never had a reason to give her that she'd be able to understand. I wasn't entirely sure that even I understood it. Maybe if I was someone else, it would all be different. Maybe if I was Mike, if I wasn't under constant scrutiny, with Leo and Splinter both breathing down my neck and waiting for me to screw up. Maybe if I wasn't... me. Mike wouldn't think twice about bringing someone home. And I was sure that if he did, anyone he brought would be accepted. But I was different. I couldn't expect approval. And I didn't.
All of my hesitations and personal issues aside, I didn't want Shannon to have to go through that kind of rejection. They wouldn't approve of her anymore than they'd approve of me. She wouldn't understand that, and I knew it. I paced a few times, trying to think of a way to break this down into a language she might be able to grasp.
"Do you believe in honor?" I asked.
Her expression turned to one of confusion. "What?"
"Honor," I repeated. Man, if only Leo could see me now…
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Raph, sure. Honor. What's your point?"
"I was raised on principles of honor," I explained quickly, trying to keep my voice steady.
She stared at me. "What's dishonorable about...?"
"I know my family would not approve if I brought you home," I interrupted. "Please don't ask me how I know. I just do. I am honoring them, then, by keeping our relationship a secret."
"Yeah?" she challenged. "And what about honoring me? Are you so ashamed of me that...?"
"I'm not ashamed of you, Shannon!" I shot at her, more forcefully than I meant to. "I just..."
"You just what, Raphael?" she cut me off. "You just wanna continue coming over here and spilling all your problems all over my living room floor and not even give me the common courtesy and respect of..."
I could feel my blood begin to boil. "Hey, Shannon, it's not like you've been real open and honest about your family, either," I snapped at her.
Her eyes fell and she was suddenly silent. I immediately regretted my biting tone. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. I sighed and walked back over to her. I knelt in front of her and took her hands. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just… please try to understand. I come to you to get away from my family. Please don't try and make me talk about them."
She glanced up. Tears brimmed her eyes and she brushed them away roughly. "Yeah," she sighed. She sounded exhausted, like she would say anything just to stop the fighting. I smiled faintly at her. "Please," I whispered, touching her cheek lightly. "Let's just not talk about this. It'll only frustrate us both."
She forced a smile in return and placed her hand over mine. She guided it across her lips and kissed my palm before draping her arms over my neck. She sank to the floor, to her knees, and pressed her lips to mine.