Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles, I just play with them. Austin is mine. Mine mine mine mine mine.
Before the fic Author's Notes: And thus begins a new element in the Misadventures journey… Dream sequence! Just so you're aware ahead of time, the dream is 1st person, present tense, rather than past like the rest of the story. I'm just trying a little something different. If you find it disjointed, it was written that way on purpose. Dreams are funny things. And here's a shout-out to Isis-Lament for being a wonderfully awesome person who has given me permission to bug her as much as I want for story advice, plot problems, and just general bitching/moaning/complaining. Muahahahaah! You shall never be rid of me now…
Warning!: Now that I have your attention. This chapter contains some disturbing subject matter that may offend more sensitive readers. The story however, is rated M at this point, so please don't expect me to pull any punches.
FunFact: Bill Bridger is dead in the present time. …not many people attended his funeral.
Misadventures of the Mentally Unstable
Chapter 16
Italics are dream sequence! Yay! Or Austin's thoughts/emphasis/blah blah blah. All the usual stuff.
Looking around, I can see white walls. Endless white walls, white walls... No. Not endless. I can see them now... small dark creases that bend and stretch, until finally they resolve themselves into corners. I blink and the room comes into focus. I know this room; I've been here before. What is this place?
Droplets of water hit my body and I raise my face to the downpour. I'm in a shower… a shower in the middle of the room? No, it's the corner now. White tiles and white caulk against a white wall. The showerhead is silver… the drain is silver too. Silver and white… the only two colors in the room. There's no doors on the shower… that's odd. Who would build a shower with no doors? It doesn't matter though; the water feels good. It's cool and soft against the burns on my skin.
Burns? What burns? Where did I get burns? I look down and see the small circular marks, standing out bright red on my flesh. Red like Raph. …who's Raph? Raphael… the archangel? The burns are as red as the eyes of the angel. Yes… yes that's right.
I'm young. I'm 11. I don't know how I know… I just know. Like the angel. I know the angel, and I know I'm 11. But I haven't met the angel yet; the red angel who'll keep me safe. He hasn't come yet. But he will, someday.
For now, I'm 11. I'm 11, and I'm in a white room, with a white shower. My name isn't important. My name is Austin, but it's not important. I'm sure it's Austin. Is it important? I don't know. I'm a Sifter. The snake thinks I'm a psychic, but I'm really a Sifter. He doesn't know the truth. I don't know the truth. I don't know what I am, so my name must not be important after all.
The snake… the snake with glasses who smiles, and holds his clipboard…Someday he'll find out I'm a Sifter, and he'll know what I am. But I still won't know.
David knows. The demon knows. He knows I'm a Sifter, and he won't tell me until he finds out. But he's not here yet. He won't be here for a couple more days, I think. And even then, he won't tell me what I am for 12 more years. I'm 23 now, but I'm still 11 here in this place. Wherever this place is.
The Institute. I want my angel to find me now, but he won't find me for 12 more years. Nothing happens for 12 years. I'm 11 now. I can't blame him for anything that happens to me now. It's not his fault, he wants to protect me; he doesn't know me yet. But I know him. My red angel. The color of blood.
I shudder and close my eyes against the color in my mind. It's a bad color, but it's the color of my angel's mask. That's right, his mask. Not his eyes, his mask. His eyes are brown. Like my hair. My hair is curly… like my father's. But I don't know my father. But I have his hair. I must, because I don't have my mother's. I have my mother's eyes though. Green eyes. Like my angel… green in red. Or red in green? I want my angel to save me now.
There's a sound. I know that sound. I turn and look. A door has opened, and someone stands there. I can't see his face. He is everyone, and he is no one. The faceless man, whom I'd forgotten with Jer's help.
Jeremy… he's across from me, in another white and silver room. Standing at the window, I can see him. He looks scared and I wish I could tell him I'll be alright. I've had this dream before. It's a dream, isn't it? This isn't real. I'm 23 now, but I'm 11 in this place. The faceless man is dead now, and you helped me get over him, Jeremy. You loved me, Jeremy, and I threw it away. I'm sorry, Jer. Did I ever tell you that? I'm sorry I left you. I want to go back and tell you I love you too, but I can't.
The faceless man doesn't care though. He's here for me. One moment he's standing in the door to the white and silver room, and the next he's pulling me from my cool shower. His hand falls over one of my angel red burns, and I cry out in pain. Jeremy screams at me from behind his glass wall. He hits it with his fist. Once, twice. On the third time a smear of red appears where the skin splits open on his knuckles. The sight makes me sick and I have to look away before I throw up.
He pulls me across the room, the faceless man. He's bigger than me. If I were 23, I could fight him off. But I'm 11. He pushes me onto my white bed with the silver frame and as the harsh fabric rubs over the blisters on my small body, I whimper; it hurts. I know what he wants to do to me. He's done it to me many times, although this is the first. I know, because I've dreamt this before. But I had no red angel to save me before. I have him now, and he'll find me and save me someday. I just have to wait, and he'll find me.
Even though I know the pain, and I expect it, I still scream. I feel the scorching heat of the faceless man's body above mine, and I scream. His hands hold me down and I can't move, and I scream. When he finishes, I'm still screaming; he slaps me hard across the face with such force that my lip splits open upon my teeth, and the salty taste of blood fills my mouth.
The faceless man stands and zips up his pants, but I don't see it. My eyes are closed and I'm gagging against the copper flavor in my mouth. I hear the door shut once more and I roll over on my side, clutching my stomach, willing myself not to be sick. But there's a wetness on my legs, and I open my eyes. The blood is vibrant and shocking against the white of the room and the cream of my thighs. I stare, frozen. I see three droplets in my mind, running down the side of a beautiful ivory frosting, and then I see the dark smears on the bed sheets.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Jeremy. He's on his knees now, still beating at the glass, and he's crying. Don't cry for me Jeremy. You helped me get over this, remember? It took years, but you did it, and I loved you for it. So please don't cry for me, Jeremy.
But the taste of the blood is too much to handle, and I pull myself from the bed, stumbling to the toilet. The sound of retching is loud in the small white, silver, and now red room. When I'm done throwing up, I drag myself to the shower. I have to get the blood off. Nothing matters but the blood, I have to get it off. This may be a dream, but I have to get it off.
The water falls cold over my body once more, and I curl up in a ball on the wet tile, as snug into the corner as I can get. I'm crying now. I know because the liquid on my face is warm, but the shower is cold. I don't know how long I sit in the shower alone. It must have been a long time. It must have been 12 years, because I can hear my angel's voice now. His strong hands pick me up and pull me into his arms. He cradles me, and tells me he'll keep me safe, and I believe him. His fingers run through my hair and his voice is soft in my ear.
Opening my eyes, I see Jeremy looking at me from across the hall. He looks sad. He wants to be my angel, but I wouldn't let him. He saved me once and I loved him, but I wouldn't let him be my angel. I've got a new angel now. I've got my red angel. My red angel has only known me for a short time, but he loves me already. And I want to love him. I want to fall in love with him.
I am falling in love with him.
I'm falling.
I fell. Hard. From the sofa onto the hard wood floor of the apartment. My legs and arms were tangled in the soft green blanket and I couldn't stop myself. I hit the ground with a thud and cried out as I landed on my stomach with one hand tucked underneath me, the other twisted behind my back. My left leg was still half on the sofa while my right foot knocked against the sturdy leg of the coffee table. I laid there for a moment, disoriented, and shaking violently.
The images of the nightmare were still fixed in my head and no matter how I tried, I couldn't push them away. Raphael's arms around me had felt so real, so comforting, and the urge to vomit had passed in my uncomfortable sleep. But still, I hadn't had that dream since I was 15 years old. It used to come to me every night while I slept, and then Jeremy… Jeremy helped me. God only knew how he put up with me during that time, but he did… and he eventually helped me get rid of the nightmares and memories.
But this time… this time was different. Raphael. Blinking, I stared at the hardwood floor of my apartment. I could see all the little cracks where the pieces were fit together and there was only one thought on my mind. …okay, actually there were two. The first being, Wow… I really need clean. But the second was of the last dreaming image before I was so rudely awakened by the living room floor. I was falling in love with Raphael.
No. Impossible. I wouldn't believe it. Yah, I liked him, but love? I hardly knew him. I mean… falling on him, then being tackled by him, then staying up all night in a dark room chatting about little things with him, then practically being stripped by him in a kitchen… then going on a date with him… then kissing him… then sleeping with him… those things don't qualify as getting to know a person really well… do they? Yah, I suppose they do…
Okay, so maybe I did know him better than I thought. And maybe I liked him a little bit more than just a friend. …okay, a lot more. I wanted him here now, I realized with a desperate longing. I wanted him to hold me and tell me all the things he told me in my dream. That he loved me, and he'd keep me safe… that he'd be my angel.
It was silly, I knew, but the dream was still so vivid, so fresh. I didn't want sex right now. I wanted him to hug me. So silly… just a hug… but I wanted it so bad. I could call him. I could call and beg him to come here and hold me, and he'd do it. But by the time he got here, I'd probably have calmed down, and then I'd feel even more ridiculous. I was torn once more, between wanting to be alone, and wanting his company. The matter was quickly decided though as I realized I still didn't have his phone number. And I was still lying on the floor, which seemed to be getting colder by the second.
With a groan that echoed the soreness all over my body, I somehow managed to untangle myself from the blanket and stand up. The kitchen light had been left on by Raphael when he left… it must have been, because I hadn't turned any lights on when I'd come in. I staggered to the kitchen, extremely thirsty. In my still groggy and somewhat disorienting state of mind, I probably shouldn't have been using the stove, but I was desperate for a nice hot cup of tea. Moving like a robot, I put the water on to boil and looked over the wide selection of tea that decorated the wall along the back counters. I read all the names, promptly forgetting each one. Finally I saw a pretty red box that looked like it might have nice tea in it. Red like Raph, a voice echoed from the dream, and I shook my head to get it away. I didn't need him… I didn't love him.
Red like Raph… Red like Raph, the voice insisted as I tore open the packet and pulled the little tea bag out.
"No… just red." I argued to myself. Red like Raph, the tea bag seemed to shout at me.
"No! Red tea. Just red tea." Red like Raph.
"NO!" I screamed and practically threw the little bag into a mug that had a little picture of a turtle on the side. I hadn't even been aware that was the mug I'd grabbed. The hand that was holding the turtle mug started shaking and I set it down on the counter, afraid I might drop it. Red like Raph, the tea bag said once more, a finality to its tone that I just couldn't argue with.
"Fine." I said aloud. "Fine, red like Raph. Red fucking tea that's red like Raph." I glared at the tea bag, daring it to say anything more on the subject. When it didn't speak, I was almost disappointed. Then I realized I'd been arguing with a teabag. Shit. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but thought if I wasn't already crazy, then that was certainly the last step. Laughing maniacally to yourself while you're alone in the kitchen arguing with a fucking tea bag.
The whistle of the kettle drew me out of my crazy thoughts, and I sighed and poured the water into the mug. I idly wondered if it was wrong of me to feel satisfaction over drowning the poor little teabag in boiling liquid, effectively silencing any further observations it cared to give on my love life. When I couldn't find any reason to object, I smiled in smug satisfaction and picked up the mug, ready to carry it into the living area with me.
But I stopped when I saw the piece of paper lying on the kitchen counter, next to the phone. I hadn't noticed it before, either when I came into the apartment, or when I woke up. Staring at it blankly for a moment, I tried to figure out what on earth it could be. Finally realizing I'd have a better chance of finding out if I actually picked it up and read it, I moved my feet and reached for it with the hand that wasn't holding my tea.
It was from Raphael. He must have written it before he and Leo left. A smile came to my lips as I looked at the handwriting. It was hastily scrawled out in sloppy, uneven letters, and it had a charm that was undeniable. Definitely a male's handwriting.
"Austin,
Where ever the hell you are, get home soon. And for god's sake, call me as soon as you do.
-Raphael"
And he left a number. Something inside me leapt for joy, and I was reaching for the phone before I'd even realized what I was doing. But I forced myself to put it down, and then read the message again. He knew I was safe… he'd been here when I'd gotten back. I didn't need to call him now.
I want my angel to save me now. I could hear myself in the dream, and I could feel his arms comforting me. My fingers flew over the keypad on the handset before I even knew I'd picked it up again. I was in a daze, my mind racing between the images in my dream and the reality of my apartment and the cold phone next to my ear. I could hear the ringing, but I was only dimly aware of it.
"Hello?" A confused voice answered. When I didn't answer right away, he repeated himself. It was Donatello, I could tell.
"It's… um… it's me. Austin… Can I…?" My tongue seemed so heavy in my mouth, and I wasn't quite sure what I was saying. Some dim part of me really hadn't expected anyone to answer.
"What happened? Are you okay, Austin?" His voice was calm, but I could sense a small tinge of anxiety beneath. Looking over at the clock on the stove, I realized it was almost two in the morning. Shit, I hadn't even thought about the time.
"No... uh… I'm fine. I'm sorry… I shouldn't have called… did I wake you?" The daze wore off, and I realized how stupid I must sound, calling this time of the morning.
"No, I was up… are you sure you're alright?"
I wasn't certain that I believed him or not, but I didn't question it. "Yah, I just… I had a bad dream and… um… I'm sorry…" I stumbled over the words as a shudder swept through me. Even to say the words was causing me to lose concentration on the conversation.
"It's okay Aust-.." He paused and I could tell the phone was being muffled. There were stifled voices from somewhere in the background, and then finally another voice came on. A voice I knew.
"Austin?"
I can't blame him for anything that happens to me now. It's not his fault, he wants to protect me; he doesn't know me yet. But I know him. My red angel. The color of blood. My mouth went dry as he said my name, and I blinked back tears as the worst of the images came pounding back down on me, and I could taste the blood in my mouth again. I heard a crash from somewhere and looked down to see the turtle mug I'd forgotten I was holding laying in pieces on the floor, dark liquid spreading over the floor. In the dim light of the kitchen, and the fractured state of my mind, I stared, seeing a pool of blood instead of tea.
"Christ, what was that? What happened!" His voice grew frantic, but I still couldn't answer. Blood… blood everywhere… blood on the floor… blood in my mouth, on my legs… So dark…
"Blood…" I whispered softly, unaware that I'd even spoken.
My knees buckled, and I found myself sliding down against the counter until I was crumpled on the floor, still cradling the phone to my ear, my eyes shut against the reddish brown puddle on the dark wood. I thought I'd gotten over this; the blood and the memory. It had been so long since I'd had a breakdown like this, I'd thought it was finished. But I had been so wrong… the stress of the last few days was causing me to snap. Devon gone, Adair back, David and Lucas missing, Susan rejecting me… and Raphael loving me. It was too much.
"Talk to me, baby, tell me you're okay."
I was afraid to open my eyes and see the blood, and no matter how I tried, no words would come from my mouth. I tried to say his name, but only a small pitiful sound came out.
There was a curse from the other end, and then, "Don't move, baby. I'll be there in ten minutes." A muffled voice came again, then Donatello.
"Austin? Can you hear me?" I nodded, for some unknown reason absolutely certain that he'd be able to see me. "Austin? C'mon girl, let me know you're still with us."
I struggled with my voice, fighting for control. After what seemed like eternity, I finally managed a weak, "D-Don?" I stuttered horribly over his name, but he must have heard me. Relief washed over his voice when he spoke next.
"That's it, Austin." Even in my debilitating state I could hear the smile on his lips. "You had us worried for a second there. Gave Raph the fright of his life, you know that? He's got it bad for you, Austin. I'm going to stay on the phone with you until he gets there, is that okay?"
I nodded again, clutching the phone tighter to my ear. His voice pierced the visions still swimming in my head and I silently pleaded that he wouldn't quit talking. I didn't want to be left alone with the blood… the blood and the memory.
"Did something happen, Austin? Did you-… Are you hurt?" I knew he wanted to ask if I'd hurt myself. I could hear it in his voice.
"I…" This shouldn't be happening. I was over this, dammit. I hadn't had an attack like this in years; it should be so simple for me to handle… I've fought them off before. But I couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't feel anything except the weight of the phone in my hand, and Donatello's voice carrying over the line in between the visions of white, silver, and red. Every time he said my name, it brought me closer to home, but I still couldn't find my voice. I didn't know what to say or how to answer him.
"Do you need to go to a hospit-" With a gasp, Donatello quickly cut his words off when he realized what he had just been about to ask. But I heard it. I knew what he was going to say and I let out an anguished cry and dropped the phone, curling into myself as tight as I could. It wasn't his fault, some small part of my mind knew, but the reaction was almost involuntary. I was crying; tears escaped my closed eyes, and then the floodgates opened. Years of repressed anguish, fears of being alone, and haunted memories from the past swept through me like a tidal wave and no force on earth could hold back the torrent.
The visions of the past had sunk their claws into my brain, and there was nothing I could do to stop the deluge of images. From somewhere in the distance I could hear a tinny voice calling for me, but it had no effect. Time passed, but I wasn't aware of it. It could have been minutes… it could have been years. It must have been 12 years, because I can hear my angel's voice now.
I felt the strong arms picking me up off the floor and clung tightly to them, burying my face against a hard surface. I've got a new angel now. It was just like my dream. His hand was running lightly over my hair, and I could hear his voice, rough and hard, but soft and soothing as well. It was comforting in a way that no one else's voice could ever be.
I don't think I'll ever know what he was saying to me, but it had the calming effect I'd felt in the dream. As he spoke, I could feel my mind pulling me away from the nightmare, and my sobs softened to moans, and then I shuddered in bitter release as I finally found myself again. Raphael… he was here… he would keep me safe. I could smell him, feel him, hear him. He was all around me, the only thing in my mind. My eyes had been squeezed so tightly shut, it hurt to open them. When I finally tried, the dim light of the apartment was harsh and invading, and I whimpered in pain. Raph silenced me softly and carried me away from the light.
His arms finally released me into softness, and I grabbed for his hands blindly, not wanting him to leave. He said something, but I don't know what; instead of leaving though, I could feel his weight sink down onto the bed next to me. I was as limp as a rag doll, but he somehow managed to undress me gently, and then pull the covers of the bed over my body.
Finally able to open my eyes without pain, I could just make out his blurry green form standing up.
"Raphael…" I whispered softly and he turned. I couldn't see his face, for my eyes were having a hard time adjusting to sight again.
He leaned over the bed and touched my cheek gently, in a gesture I was coming to love. "Don't worry. I won't leave you." He was gone and back quicker than even my fractured mind would have thought possible. His hand reached for my face again and I felt warmth… he had a damp cloth and was softly washing away the stains of my tears.
The corners of my mouth lifted in a small smile, and he knew then that I was truly back with him, from the hell I'd been in when he arrived.
"Had me worried, baby…"
"Y'keep calling me that…" I mumbled softly, my jaw sore from how hard I'd been clenching it shut.
"Would you prefer somethin' else? Babe? Princess? Angel? Goddess?" He dropped the cloth and his hand once more stroked my hair. It was more comforting than he could ever know.
"Not angel… you're the angel…" I closed my eyes and snuggled down into the pillow. "I like 'baby'…"
I could hear the smirk in his voice. "I ain't no angel, baby. Far from it."
"Mmmm… fallen angel, then" I murmured softly. "Horns are holding up your halo…"
He chuckled softly and leaned down to lightly kiss me on the forehead. "I guess you've got me figured out, don'tcha?"
"Wanna figure you out more…" It was the closest he would get to a vow of commitment from me at the moment, but perhaps with time, I could give him more. Perhaps.
Instead of replying, he agilely climbed over me and lay down, pulling me tight against him, blankets and all. I felt so warm, so safe and secure and I knew nothing was going to harm me as long as Raph was here. I snuggled back against him, all images of my attack forgotten completely. The only thing on my mind was him and I.
"I told you, you'd fall for me." He whispered in my ear and I smiled contentedly.
"You're an ass." My words were slurred and spoken into the soft pillow, but Raphael got the gist of it.
"An you're cute."
"I know…" Yawning, I pulled the blankets up to my chin and smiled, safe in my little burrow. I let my mind slowly drift back to sleep and this time when I dreamt, the dreams were sweet.
The arm around my waist confused me when I woke up, but only for an instant. Then I remembered, and I groaned slightly. It had been a bad attack, that was for sure. Worse than the one down in the sewers, and I'd be surprised if Raph and his brothers didn't think I was totally insane now. …but of course… the arm proved otherwise.
Sometime during the night Raphael must have crawled under the covers with me. His arm lay across my bare skin, and I could feel the hardness of his shell against my back. I found I liked the sensation a lot more than the skin on skin contact I'd had with guys in the past. On the off chance that I'd ever woken up in a guy's bed, I'd hated that early morning too-warm, slightly sticky feeling of skin rubbing on skin. It made me feel… dirty. But Raph's body was cooler to the touch; the thick skin of his arms, and the hard boney surface of his plastron… it felt wonderful against my own body. I loved it.
In a manner that was actually rather ungraceful, I twisted myself around in his arms until I was facing him. I don't know if he'd been awake, or if my jerky uncoordinated movements woke him, but he was up just the same. He lifted his arm slightly until I got settled again, then pulled me close once more. He'd taken off his mask and gear, and it made him seem so much less… aggressive. Part of me liked it, and the other part of me was a little disappointed. I guess he couldn't be a tough guy all the time though. I sighed softly and closed my eyes once more, still drowsy from sleep.
"Hey..." I said softly.
"Hey. You okay?"
I nodded into the pillow. "I had… a bad day yesterday."
"Could'a fooled me." The mocking tone in his voice earned him a kick. Nothing too hard though, because I was still sore and weak from last night's little adventure. Raph let out a small chuckle and leaned his head in to kiss me. "That's my girl." He said quietly before his mouth captured mine.
"I'm n-…" What I'd been about to say when our lips parted was 'I'm nobody's girl'. It was purely habitual reaction, but I stopped myself. I wanted to be his girl, and nobody else's. And I wanted him to want only me. God, was it really only three nights ago I'd been thinking the exact opposite? My dream hadn't been prophetic, I knew that. Everything that happened in the dream was caused by thoughts, feelings, and memories from my life, mostly over the past six days. Six days… that was all it took for my life to do a 180 and turn itself completely around. But still… the dream may not have been prophetic, but it had been enlightening. Wasn't it Cinderella who had sung 'A dream is a wish your heart makes'? If that's true, then perhaps my heart knows what's better for me than my brain. I'm falling in love with him. The words echoed again from my dream, and I knew them to be true.
"Austin? You still with me?" I blinked and looked over to see the concern in his eyes. I'd been spacing again… I really needed to learn not to do that. Sometimes my thoughts just carried me away…
"Yah… I just… I was thinking."
"Bout what?"
Biting my lip, I looked down, choosing to concentrate on the edge of his plastron instead of his face. "You. Me. Last night… yesterday… everything."
"What happened, Austin? Donnie said somethin' about a dream, but… shit, baby. What the hell happened?"
"It's… stress, I think. I don't know. Everything seemed to all fall down on me at once…" I tried to explain how the meeting with Susan's lawyer had gone, and I could tell Raph wasn't happy. He interrupted with a few choice words and suggestions with what Powell could have gone and done with the paperwork. Smiling, I agreed, and finished by telling him how I'd stormed out of the restaurant.
"I didn't know what to do… god… I should have come home, Raph. I'm sorry I didn't… but… I was so upset. I needed to get away for a while."
"Where'd you go? And don't tell me you spent all day in the bar."
"Ok, I won't." He apparently didn't think I was very funny because his eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. He didn't say anything though, so I finally sighed and continued. "You're not going to like it if I tell you."
"I'll like it even worse if you don't."
"I…" I sighed and decided to bite the bullet. "I went to David's house."
"You WHAT?" He lifted himself up on one arm and looked down at me with a look that was more than just disapproving. "Why the fuck did you go there? Do you even remember what that kid said to you on the phone. Shit, you could have been caught, Austin!"
"Yah, I know…"
"Fuckin' think next time, baby. What the hell were you doing there?"
"I just… I thought Jeremy might be wrong… I wanted to find out for sure."
"Ever heard of a phone? Or even a fuckin' letter?"
"Raph, please… I know. I was just upset, ok? I wasn't thinking!"
"Damn right you weren't. Fuck…" He grunted in frustration and lay back down, wrapping his arms around me. "Don't take risks like that, baby…"
I sighed and closed my eyes once more, as he ran his fingers through my hair. "I'm fine though, everything was okay…" Except for the whole Jeremy being right and David prophesying the taking of my life. But I didn't think Raph would be too pleased to hear about that, so I didn't mention it.
"Doesn't matter. I don't want anythin' to happen to you."
I bit my lip to keep from making a sarcastic remark. Now was definitely not the time to piss him off. "I won't do it again." I said finally.
"Damn straight…"
We lay there in silence for a while, until finally the stillness was broken by a loud growl. My stomach was complaining from the lack of food. I hadn't eaten since… well, I had some peanuts at the bar. Other than that… it had been before the concert, night before last…
"I'm hungry…" I said softly and realized that was probably half the reason I'd felt so weak lately.
"Hmmm." I could tell Raph was trying to decide between making a perverted comment, or taking me seriously. He finally chose the better of the two replies. "What d'you want?"
"Food…"
"What kind of food?"
"The edible kind."
He glared at me in what I hoped was mock frustration. "I've seen what's in your kitchen, Austin. I don't think half that stuff is edible."
"Hey, I live on a budget."
"Have you even checked the expiration date on the milk in your fridge anytime in the last month?"
"…I have milk in my fridge?"
Raphael raised an eyeridge and studied me for a moment. "That's it. I'm never lettin' you cook for me."
I was too lazy to flip him off so I just wrinkled my nose in disgust. "I never claimed to be the domestic type."
"So I've noticed."
"Well, I'm still hungry." I twisted my head around and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:15. I'd slept late today… but damn it had been a good sleep. "Hmmm…. I have an idea." I said finally, reaching for the phone.
No more than twenty minutes later, there was a nice assortment of sandwiches, hot fresh soup, rolls, and even a couple slices of homemade apple pie sitting on my counter. All courtesy of Ken, my favorite chef and coworker. I made a mental note to suggest to Doris that he needed a raise. That boy was just too fantastic for words. And cute also. …Too bad my preferences were starting to run towards green and bald lately. I looked over Raphael once more as I unwrapped the food and grinned. Nah, Ken just couldn't compare to what I had now.
"What?" Raph asked as he leaned back against the counter next to me, a smirk on his face.
"Mmmm… nothing." I smiled to myself and thought of how sweet Raph was, even though he tried to hide it. The broken mug was nowhere to be found, and the kitchen floor had been wiped clean of the tea from last night. I didn't ask about it, and he didn't say anything. Perhaps later I'd mention it, but for now I didn't want to think about the little episode I'd had. I was starving, and the food smelled so damn good.
We ate on the couch, seeing as how my dining room table was cluttered with all sorts of stuff. The sofa was my primary eating place anyway. That, or the computer desk. I wished I could say that I ate daintily and slowly, but dammit, I was famished. The most I can say is that I didn't talk with a full mouth. The conversation was light, and mostly concerned the news reports on the TV that I'd turned on. Neither of us seemed to be in the mood for deep life-altering conversation anyway.
Raphael had been sitting next to me, but when I finished eating I shifted so I was sitting sideways on the couch, and not very subtly plopped my legs down onto his lap. I was full, and I was happy, and there was an incredibly cute guy—no, turtle… sitting on the couch with me. He leaned back a little, and placed one arm protectively down over my thighs, the other he stretched out behind his head. Raph didn't look at me, his attention on the TV, but I could see the grin on his face widen, and I smiled as well. This wasn't so bad… I could do this. I could be with him.
The ringing of the phone interrupted my thoughts, and I mentally congratulated myself for having the foresight to bring the handset with me. I giggled and kicked Raph when he tried to tickle me as I answered the phone, his eyes never leaving the TV.
"Hello? Ack! Stop it!" I laughed and leaned forward, swatting him lightly on the shoulder. It gave me a warm, unfamiliar feeling in my stomach, and I knew I'd fallen hard for him. Was it possible to be this happy? This couldn't last… could it? God, I was practically radiating happiness.
"Ms. Bridger?" The unfamiliar voice caused me to pause, and Raph seemed to sense it had become a bad time for play.
"Uh… yes?"
"Ms. Bridger, this is Evan Powell." The look that came over my face must have been something akin to total disgust.
"Ah… Mr. Powell. What can I do for you?" The false pleasantness of my tone must have been evident to Raph, because he smirked at me and made an obscene gesture at the phone. I snorted in laughter, but somehow managed to cover it with a cough, and then politely apologized. Powell seemed either not to notice, or not to care.
"I was wondering if perhaps you would care to meet again. So we can discuss your… requests."
"I told you what I want, Mr. Powell. If Ms. Carmine won't give it to me, then the least I deserve is to have her tell me why straight to my face."
There was a pause, and then, "Would you please hold, Ms. Bridger?"
"I'd rather not." But he put me on hold anyway, and I rolled my eyes at the crappy elevator music that was playing in my ear. In all honesty, I wasn't sure Susan was going to give me my father's name. If she didn't… well… I had no clue what I would do then. Go on with my life, probably. What else could I do?
He finally came back on just as I was about to hang up on him. "Ms. Bridger?"
"Last time I checked."
I swear, I could hear him grating his teeth over the phone. I must have been really pissing him off. Lawyers are fun to fuck with. Or at least, this one was.
"Ms. Carmine is willing to meet with you… today, if possible. We'd like this little matter settled before she has to fly out of the country this weekend."
"She'll meet with me?" I gaped in disbelief. After standing me up yesterday, and then having the balls to offer to buy my silence… she was willing to meet with me? …there was no way I'd miss this for the world. I wanted to know what she'd have to say for herself. "When?" I demanded.
"Why don't you come to Ms. Carmine's office today at 5? She should be done with her business for the day by then."
"Yes, because I certainly wouldn't want to cut into her busy schedule."
"Good." Obviously sarcasm was lost on him. "Do you need the address?"
"No, I'll just take a wild guess and hope it's the right building."
"Ms. Bridger, this would go much smoother if you'd be willing to cooperate." I wanted to laugh at him, but that might not be considered 'willing to cooperate'.
"Tell you what, Mr. Powell. I'll cooperate as soon as I get what I want. Why don't you put that nice secretary on the line, and she can tell me the address. I really don't feel like talking to you anymore."
"Ms. Bridg-"
"Or else I'll hang up and call the press. The secretary, now. …Please." I added as politely as possible. No need to be overly rude.
There was another pause, and finally I was put on hold again. When the secretary finally came online, she gave me the address in a very confused, but professional tone. I thanked her and finally hung up, throwing the phone down in disgust.
"I hate lawyers." Sighing, I leaned back against the arm of the couch.
"Want me to take care of him?" Raphael asked in a malicious tone that I absolutely fell in love with.
"Please." I looked at him for a few moments, then smiled and pulled myself up. There was a light in Raph's eyes as I skillfully straddled his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Kiss me?" I asked coyly.
He obliged, and I soon found myself involved in one of the most spectacular make-out sessions in the long, beautiful history of make-out sessions.
Yah. I could definitely do this.
I'm falling…
After the fic Author's Notes: Wheeeeee. Austin's finally coming to her senses. …Sort of. I hope the whole dream sequence thing worked well into the chapter. I decided to lighten the chapter up at the end, instead of leaving it all dark and angsty. I don't want to put Austin through too much yet. She still has a sequel to get through. Muahahahaha…. Imagine how much I can screw with her in a whole new story. …I'm so mean.
Oh. And no, Austin wasn't naked while she and Raph were eating. She had to get dressed so she could run downstairs and pick up the food from the Cafe. Ken may be nice and fix her the food, but he doesn't make home deliveries. :)
Notes to my Reviewers:
EntropyMage: Hopefully Raph stayed in character through this chapter… I tried really hard. And I'm not sure what it was about last chapter, I just wasn't too happy with it. (shrugs) I don't know. But I love how this chapter turned out. And you're right about Leo's arguments. It's mostly stuff about responsibility and practicing, and such. And of course, I'm sure he doesn't approve of the relationship between Raph and Austin as it stands. It is kind of… sudden.
Reluctant Dragon: (Falls over giggling) "Just when you thought it was safe to bake again!" I absolutely love that. I wish I'd thought to use a line like that in the fic, it's so awesome. :)
As for Austin's previous bedmates… well… I'll just say her history is very wide and varied… she doesn't really put much stock in who they are... as long as they're good. So it's obvious to anyone who knows anything about her, that she doesn't always choose the most trustworthy.
And never apologize for long reviews. I love them. ;)
Reinbeauchaser: I hope this chapter clears up a little bit of why Austin is the way she is. I, unfortunately, know too many girls who are in very similar situations, and they became much the way Austin is (Thankfully, I've seen at least one of them pull herself out of it, and is now happily engaged). Poor Raph doesn't understand everything that's happened to her, and if he did, I'm sure he wouldn't have moved so fast. There's still so much he doesn't know about her, even now.
And please please please, never feel hesitant about sharing your views or opinions. I understand where you're coming from, and I respect everything you said. I may not completely agree, but that's the wonders of being able to have your own opinion. (I can say that from my own experiences, my outlook on life has been changed dramatically. Some of it for the good, some of it for the bad.)
Isis-Lament: You are awesome. I must say that before I continue. Thanks for your help with the chapter, I appreciated it so much.
Anyway, (ponders the thoughts on David's parentage) You know… that's making me want to write out back stories for all the minor characters. ….Oh crap. I don't need any more plot bunnies. OUT! Get OUT of my head! (sighs)
Hmm… Austin isn't quite alcoholic… but she does drink more than she should. Especially lately with all the stuff that's been going on. The only positive (which really isn't one), is that she stays away from the hard liquor for the most part. She's a beer drinker, which is only slightly less damaging to her pocketbook. As for her sanity.. well.. that's always questionable.
And now… thanks to you I desperately want to go back and re-watch the first two turtle movies. …I forgot he danced in the second one…. And if I remember correctly… yes, he was awesome… Mmmmm…..
kaya lizzie: Muahahaha! There shall be more prophecy stuff coming up soon… I think. It depends on how the next chapter goes. Sooner or later, all your questions shall be answered! …Unfortunatly for you, some of them will be later rather than sooner. Sorry. (evil laughter)
FairDrea: Ack! Don't be late just for me! Do you know how guilty I'd feel if you got fired or something because of fanfic? Ack! ….although, I appreciate it. (grins)
And feel free to assume away! I love hearing what people think might happen. Hehehe. I won't tell you if you're right or wrong, though. Cause I'm evil.
And Xander kicks ass. I haven't seen that episode in a long time, but now I want to go watch it again. I'll have to track down my Buffy DVD's. I know they're around the house somewhere…
RainySunshine: (pounces the new reviewer) Hi! Heheh. Thanks for your review! Hopefully you've read the chapter already instead of skipping to the notes, but if not, then Austin is 23. I've gotten a lot of people asking that, and I realized I never actually stated in the story. Sorry!
Trillian4210: (grins insanely) Oh please, feel free to give me opinions on the prophecy and such. ….I won't tell you if you're right or wrong just yet, but as I said in another review, I love hearing from y'all. I get perverted pleasure out of sitting here and giggling evilly to myself. Although… in a few chapters, the prophecy will be addressed again, and it might change your ideas on it. So feel free to share away… and then when you find out more… share away again! Hehehehe
Mickis: Hmm… I'll tell you this. You're partly right on the prophecy. …which part, I won't say.
And have no fear, Donnie isn't gay. That was just Austin's little drunken mind thinking she was being clever. But Donnie never seemed very gay to me, and it just doesn't fit with what I want to happen in this story… in the long run. sighs I already have this story arc spanning years in my head… It will take me decades to write if I continue at the pace I'm going.