Chapter Eight: The Memory Remains

"Stupid Leo and his stupid honor!"

Raphael growled as he slammed his closed fist into the side of a blue mailbox, causing the old couple on the bench behind him to jump in surprise.

"Why does he always gotta throw that honor crap in my face?" Raphael's thoughts flew out of his mouth in a loud roar, and he brought his closed fist back up to his left hand and resuming pounding into it. "I'd like ta throw some honor in his face!"

A small whimper made Raphael stop his pacing, and he offered the older man and woman an uneasy smile and a nervous chuckle.

"Uh, sorry."

The older couple responded by scooting down the bench farther away from the angry teen, and Raphael just let out a long, exasperated sigh as he looked down the nearly empty street to see the city bus he had been waiting on finally pulled up to the curb. He allowed the old couple to board first, which they did in a very hasty manner, then Raphael moved to the very back seat and leaned up against the window, drawing his knees up onto the squeaky blue vinyl. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, trying to block out the nuisance in his temples, but it only got worse when the bus hit a bump and the back of his head met the window. Raphael growled again, moving around to face forward as his fingers kneaded the ache away.

"Having a bad day?"

Raphael slowly raised his line of sight up the seat in front of him and he instantly connected to a very familiar pair of ice blue eyes.

"You again?" He grumbled, smiling slightly as Carrie's bottom lip dropped a little.

"You act like you're not happy to see me. What's up with that?" Carrie scooted into the aisle and whipped around into Raphael's seat. "Are you still mad about the other day?"

"Naw, I know why ya did it. Your brother was sittin' right there." Raphael then inhaled sharply, realizing that the words that had just exited his mouth were not his own nor was it what he was even thinking.

What the shell is goin' on? Whose voice was that? His thoughts were then interrupted again as Carrie nuzzled up against his shoulder, her blonde hair tickling the side of his face.

"I wish we didn't have to hide from Jonathan." Carrie said with a sigh. "I thought you guys were, like, best friends. I don't see why it's so wrong for us to see each other." She slid her long fingers into Raphael's hand and interlaced them with his. "So, are you going to tell me where you guys have been hiding out?"

"Okay! That's enough of that!" Raphael finally found his own voice and pushed Carrie few inches away from him. He then braced himself for an angry reaction, but instead found himself staring into the tears that formed in her eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry," he began as he rubbed his forehead. "But I ain't got any idea who ya are and-,"

Carrie then watched as the auburn haired teen beside of her grabbed his head into his palms and let of a low growl. She cautiously placed her hand onto his back and leaned over with him.

"Damon? Are you okay?"

The teen suddenly sat back up and blinked around at his surroundings. His hard facial features had smoothed out, as did the tension his body had been carrying. His soften brown eyes turned toward Carrie and she jumped in surprise when the boy grabbed onto her shoulders. The boy's accent had also weakened, but his pitch grew into a crazed panic as he spoke.

"Carrie, listen to me! That teacher is completely crazy! He took us to some place in Jersey and did something to us!"

Carrie breathing stopped completely as she stared into his friend's eyes. "Damon, what-,"

"You need to go to the cops and tell them where we are! You gotta help us!" The boy let go of Carrie and grabbed his head, pulling at his hair as the pressure grew. "There's somebody in my head! He can hear him! He's trying to push me out! Please! Stop it!"

Carrie fell out of the seat as the teen screamed in pain and slammed his head into the back of the seat in front of him. She jumped to her feet and ran down the aisle, ignoring the shouts from the driver as she neared the bus doors. The vehicle came to screeching halt, and the driver allowed Carrie to get off, and the stunned passengers watched out of the windows as Carrie raced down the street. When she had disappeared from sight, they all turned back to the disheveled teen in the back seat, who was in the process of pulling his back together and securing it with a hair tie.

"My stop, already? That was fast. I musta fell asleep." Raphael grumbled, then noticed all of the eyes on him.

"What? Ain't ya ever seen a guy do his hair before? Sheesh!" He then stood up, brushing aside the dizziness and ache in his head, and he moved down the aisle and out onto the sidewalk.

The tires of the bus spun uncontrollably as the driver pulled away from the curb, leaving Raphael to cough in a cloud of black smoke.

" Man, someone musta ticked him off real good!" Raphael laughed, then turned to his left, looking up at the street sign above him. "I'm almost ta the warehouse. I can't wait ta get home so I can sleep off this headache."

As he walked down the almost deserted street, another pair of eyes watched him from an alley a few feet away, their dilated brown irises burning a fiery rage into Raphael's back. Then, they disappeared silently into the darkness of the alley.

Donatello sighed as he checked his watch for the hundredth time, lifting his impatient gaze to the ashy tiled ceiling above them. The fingers on his right hand tapped in a slow wave on the smooth white table top under them while his left arm was bent over the back of the red booth. Across from him, Michelangelo had made himself comfortable by stretching across the entire length of the booth and he was keeping himself occupied by blowing at the layered blonde bangs that fell over his eyes. He heard Donatello sigh again, and he jolted upright, jumping at the chance to keep his brother occupied as well.

"Hey, Donnie! Do you wanna know what I think-,"

Donatello's fingers jerked up into the air as he pushed his open palm into his hyper brother's face. " No, I really don't want to hear about your little 'alternate dimension theory', Mikey."

Michelangelo sunk down in the cushiony red material, the freckles coming together as he wrinkled his nose in disgust, but the young teen knew better than to give up so easily.

"Hey, Donnie! Who do I look like?"

Donatello turned his eyes from the crowd of people that crammed into the tiny restaurant and arched a brown eyebrow. " I beg your pardon?"

"You know! Like, Leo looks like Keanu Reeves in the movie Point Break!"

"Oh, brother!" Donatello covered his face with hand and shook his head. "Speaking of which, what is taking Leo so long?"

Michelangelo nodded, setting down his glass of soda after taking a long drink. "Yeah, I thought Karai had some kind of 'Leo antenna'. She always seems to know where he is." Donatello then braced himself as Michelangelo's eyes grew bigger.

"Maybe she's stalking him!"

"Mikey, only you would think of something like that." Donatello shook his head and turned his attention back to absorbing the Fifties era diner they had agreed to meet in. As he studied the black and white tiles that covered the walls and ran his eyes across the bright red bar that matched the booths, Donatello shuddered as an uneasy feeling swept over him.

"Have we ever been in here before?" Donatello asked his brother without turning his head. Michelangelo turned his gaze around the restaurant before answering.

"Uh, I don't think we have. But- it feels-,"

"But it feels like we have, doesn't it? Feels like we've been here a lot of times." Donatello finished for him. His eyes landed on a slightly tarnished jukebox in the back corner and the tiny annoying pulse in his brain began to escalate. "2G."

"Huh?" Michelangelo let the straw slip out of his mouth. "What the shell is 2G?"

Donatello didn't answer as he slid out of the booth and walked over to the jukebox, fished a quarter out of his pocket and deposited it into the coin slot. Without even thinking, his index finger punched a button, and he slowly made his way back to the booth. Michelangelo looked up at the speakers above their heads as the slow music began, and his face quickly twisted in confusion as he recognized the song: The Dance by Garth Brooks.

"Since when did you start listening to country music, Donnie?" Michelangelo kept his eyes to the ceiling and waited for a response. "Donnie?"

A quiet sobbing noise sent Michelangelo's eyes back to the table, where he found his brother cradling his head in his folded arms, his back rising and falling rapidly as he cried. Michelangelo began to climb out of the booth when Donatello raised his head, the tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

"Why did they have to die, Alex?" He wiped fiercely at his face with the sleeves of his brown suede jacket.

No sound came from Michelangelo's gapping mouth, but he continued to hold his gaze to the crying teen in across from him.

"This song, don't you remember?" He lifted his finger upwards to the speaker. " They played this song at the funeral. It was their song." He lowered his back down into the safety of his arms and inhaled deeply.

"Uh, it'll...be...uh, okay, uh, dude," Michelangelo patted the top of the boy's head softly as he darted his eyes around the diner. "Come on, Leo! Where are you? I'm getting really freaked out!" Just then, the chimes rang above the doors and Michelangelo felt relieved as Leonardo quickly moved into the booth beside of him.

"Hey! Johnny Utah! So you finally decided to show up?" Michelangelo asked as he narrowed his blonde eyebrows. "We've been sitting here for like an hour now!"

"Sorry, I...," Leonardo brought his fingers to his right temple and cringed at the pain. "An hour? I wasn't gone that long, was I?"

"An hour and fifteen minutes, to be exact."

Michelangelo turned back to Donatello, who was now sitting upright and tapping his watch, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Leonardo leaned closer to his brother and studied the faint red lines that ran down his face.

"Donnie, have you been crying?"

Donatello took a small sip from his sweaty red glass and sat it back down into the puddle of condensation. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Yes you were!" Michelangelo shouted, jumping to his feet as he pointed his finger at Donatello, then looked back at Leonardo, his words racing out of his mouth. "He was sitting there, then he got up, then he turned on this depressing country music, then he was-," Michelangelo stopped talking, made an over the top weeping noise, then continued. "And...and he called me Alex, just like that lady at the mall did, then-,"

"Maybe we should videotape this and play it back it slow motion." Donatello said as he took another drink.

"All right, Mikey. Calm down." Leonardo grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him back into the booth. "Are you sure that didn't happen, Donnie?"

"Honestly, I don't remember doing or saying any of that!" Donatello rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as the pain traveled down into his spine. "Did you find Karai?"

"Yes," Leonardo slumped down into the booth and subconsciously played with a discarded straw paper. "It took a lot of convincing, but she's agreed to get us in tonight."

"Convincing, huh?" Michelangelo chuckled. "What did you have to do?" He pushed his pink lips together and made kissing noises. "Pucker up, bro!"

Leonardo took a deep breath then flung Michelangelo a dirty look, which then found its way to Donatello.

"Sorry." Donatello cleared his throat and pushed himself out of the booth. " Okay, so if we've going tonight, I'll need to get some things from the lair."

"And we'll need a plan, just in case Karai doesn't come through for us." Leonardo shoved Michelangelo to his feet, then pushed his way around them and out of the door. As they gathered on the bustling sidewalk, Donatello watched Leonardo turn his head from side to side for a few minutes before speaking up.

"Leo?"

"Where were we going again?" Leonardo asked, running his hand through his hair.

"Uh, the lair!" Michelangelo answered.

"Right." Leonardo looked down the busy streets again, then turned back to his brothers.

"And where is it at, exactly?"

Donatello scratched his head in confusion. "Where's what?"

"Whatever he just said." Leonardo replied pointing in Michelangelo's direction.

Michelangelo shrugged. " Dude, I don't even know what you're talking about."

Leonardo sighed, brushing his hair out of his face as he began to walk away. " Maybe we should just go back to April's."

"Good idea." Michelangelo happily responded, but pulled Donatello closer to him as they began to follow, and whispered into his brother's ear.

"Who's April?"

Across town at the 16th precinct station of the New York State Police, April tapped her manicured fingernail on a high marbled desktop as she waited for an officer to assist her. She had watched many pass by her without acknowledging her presence, and she was quickly losing her patience.

"Maybe if I dangled a donut on the end of a string..." April thought out loud as she aimlessly swung a pen that was chained to the desk back and forth. "Or maybe I should just rob the bank across the street."

Suddenly the front doors of the station house flew open and April watched as a horrified young girl ran to the desk and began to slam the bell viciously.

"Please! Someone! I need some help!"

Right away April noticed the girl's tear-stained cheeks, and her blonde hair was carelessly tossed around. "Honey, are you okay?"

The girl turned her blue gaze to the tall redhead next to her and she tired to speak through her short breaths. "Please! I need help! Something has happened to my friends."

A female cop, the one who just days ago had led April to her former mutant 'nephews', appeared and leaned over the desk. " Just calm down, dear, and tell me what's going on."

"My friends, those four guys that have been missing! They're in trouble! I need someone to help me find them!" The tears reappeared in the girl's eyes and she wrapped her arms around her chest as she shuddered from the sobs. " Please."

"Look, sweetie, we are doing everything we can to find those poor boys." The officer said as she tried to offer the shaken girl a smile. "If you need someone to talk to, I can go get one of our family counselors-,"

"No! I don't need that!" The girl growled then spun around on her heels. "Just forget it!"

She shoved the doors back open and stood in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at the concrete under her shoes as a puddle formed from her tears.

"Excuse me?"

The girl turned around, coming face to face with the redhead that had spoken to her inside of the station.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help but hear that your friends are missing. Is that right?" The blonde nodded, but said nothing as the older woman continued talking. " Well, my friends are kind of missing too, and I think we could help each other." The redhead then reached her right hand out to the teen girl and smiled.

"I'm April, by the way."

"Carrie," The girl spoke and relaxed at April's warm smile. "So, you know something about this?"

April sighed as she placed her hand on Carrie's shoulder and walked with her down the sidewalk. "Do I ever, and you're not going to believe the story I'm about to tell you!"

Sorry about the long delay folks! I was out of town at an archery competition. I know I keep ending on these little cliffhangers,and I promise thenext chapter will give you tons moreinfo. ButI'm still gonnakeep you guessing to the veryend! Makes things fun that way, I think! Happy reading!