Christmas Future
Raphael took in deep breaths and let them out slowly; transparent clouds came out of his mouth with each puff. He gulped while turning his head to look at the hand that was on his shoulder. Two thin sheets of metal coming to razor shape points came from the hand. The fingers of the hand rapped on his shoulder and the young turtle could hear the rubbing of leather as each finger moved.
Raphael knocked it of and jumped from the person that stood behind him. "Speak, who are ya?" He took up a defensive pose.
There stood a tall being wearing a long black hooded cloak. His hand was still out, as though there was a shoulder still under it. The hood casts a black shadow over whoever's face was underneath it. All that could be seeing from inside were two brightly light yellow eyes. Those eyes started in to the young turtle as though the being was looking straight into his soul.
Raphael dropped his arms to his sides, because he felt an icy breeze go down his spine. It was like someone had just stepped on his grave. "Why don't ya speak?" The young turtle asked anxiously.
The being said nothing, but removed his cloak to reveal who he truly was.
"Shedder." Raphael hissed. The young turtle started to take up his defensive pose when he saw his most hated enemy before him, but something within him told him to stop. "Wait, could ya be da spirit of Christmas yet ta come?" He questioned wearily.
The Shredder-like spirit nodded.
"But I thought all ya spirits were suppose ta take da shape or form most comfortin' ta me." Raphael pointed out. "Unless ya took dat form because yer gonna show me da shadow of things dat have not happen, but will happen when time comes."
The Shredder-like spirit nodded again.
Raphal gulped deeply. "I fear ya more den any of da other spirits I saw tanight. Will ya not speak and bring me some comfort?"
Christmas Future said nothing as he turned his back to the young turtle. He pointed his bladed hand in the direction that they were to go in.
"Lead on den spirit, lead on." Raphael told the Christmas Future. "Show me what I need ta see. Da night is wanin' and it is precious time fer me."
The Shredder-like spirit nodded and grabbed the young turtle so as to whisk him away from the streets. Within minutes the two beings landed at hideout of the Purple Dragons.
"Why bring me here spirit?" Raphael questioned.
In reply, Christmas Future pointed to a group of punks huddled around a burning trashcan. Raph walked over to the group to listen in on what they were saying.
"Did you hear what happen to that vigilantly with the hockey mask?" One asked, he had a tat of a purple dragon on his cheek.
"Der talkin' about Casey." Raphael gasped as he looked at the Shredder-like spirit.
Christmas Future shook his head and pointed back to the group.
Another asked back. "Nah, what happen to him?" He had a tat on the back of his hand.
"I don't know, all I know is he died last night." The first one answered. "Apparently he took on more then he could chew."
"Oh, what to we care?" A female Purple Dragon snapped. "He's dead."
"To tell you the truth, I thought he'd never die." The first Dragon said.
"It'll be a lonely funeral, that's all I have to say." A blonde Purple Dragon commented. "I can't think of anyone who would want to go to it?"
"Think we should volunteer to go?" A black haired Purple Dragon joshed.
"Not unless they're going to feed me." A red haired Purple Dragon chuckled. "I won't go anywhere unless there is free food."
"Well I'm not for dwelling on the past or wearing black bands." The one with a Dragon on his cheek stated. "But if you thinking of making a party out of it…"
"Let's just say that we're thinking about it." The one with the Dragon on his hand answered.
Everyone in the group scrunched their faces up at the idea at it, but nodded in agreement that it might be a possibility as they walked away.
Raphael stood stun. He couldn't believe that anyone could act that cold about some who was dead. But when the young turtle started to chase after one of them, Christmas Future grabbed his shoulder with one hand and pointed in a direction with the other.
In a flash, the red clad turtle found himself at a dreary pawned shop. A man with salt and pepper hair, sitting behind a bulletproof glass, was fumbling through his latest wares when the bell to his door rang three times as three people came into his shop.
"What is this?" The pawnshop owner asked cautiously. "A bag lady, a child, and a punk?"
"We all met up by accident." The punk answered.
"That's right." The bag lady said in agreement. "It's not a conspiracy."
"If I thought it was a conspiracy, you be out like a shot." The pawnshop owner replied while lifting the end of a rifle up to show he meant business. "As it is, you're welcome." He put the gun butt back down under the counter.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they surrounded the counter. "How goes the day Max?" The punk asked.
"There is no bones older than mine, George." Max answered. "I suppose we're all suit to our ways. I guess you can consider me a rag-and-bones man by trade and a rag-and-bone by nature."
Everyone placed things upon the pawnshop owner's counter. George, the punk, looked down at what the old bag lady had.
"What are you looking at?" The bag lady questioned angrily. "Everyone has a right to take care of themselves. I'm sure he always did."
"No argument there Mary." George replied.
"If he wanted to keep it when he was dead, wick freaky thing, why didn't he act more sweet when he was alive?" Mary asked.
"If he had been, then he would have someone watching his back." The child answered. "Instead of laying in some alley, dying, gasping his last breath. Alone there, with nobody to care."
Raphael was shocked beyond all belief at how these people were talking. But curiosity made him wonder what they were even doing in a pawnshop anyway.
"Open my bundle first Max and speak plainly." Mary ordered. "I'm not afraid to go first. After all, we knew what we were getting into. That's how we all met."
"It's no sin." George added.
"Only if we get caught." The child pointed out.
"No chance of that ever happenin'." Mary smirked. "It looked like nobody ever cared what happen to him then or now. Open my sack Max."
"Me first." The child demanded. "It's the smallest."
"The smallest?" Max exclaimed. "There is only one item." He picked up a hockey mask. "Hm…meager pickings. I'll give you five dollars for it."
"I'll take it." The child said giddily.
"Me next Max." George said.
"Hm…" Max picked up a golf bag full of sport items. "A hockey stick, some golf clubs, and two baseball bat that are signed. Jose Canseco…" He scrunched his nose up at the bat. "…and Mark McGwire." Max tried not to look to amuse with the second bat. "Let's see now." He brought out a calculator and started pushing buttons while muttering. After a few minutes he came out with a total. "I'll give you fifteen bucks and fifty cents for the lot."
"Fifteen bucks and a half?" George questioned with shock.
"I always give my heart out to teens who are trying to work their way through medical school." Max said with an unsympathetic tone. "Question me further and I'll knock off five bucks."
"Fine, I'll take it." George grunted.
"Undo my bundle now Max." Mary said smugly. "You won't be disappointed."
"What are we doin' here spirit?" Raphael asked Christmas Future. "Why am I ta watch a bunch of greedy people pawnin' Casey's stuff?" The Shredder-like spirit said nothing and pointed back to the people before them. Heaving a sigh, Raphael looked back.
"What in the world are these?" Max asked as held up two shiny, silvery objects with three prongs on each.
"You know what they are Max." Mary replied. "You've sold and bought enough of them."
"Don't tell me that you pried these out of his cold dead hands." Max said with amazement.
"I did." Mary stated proudly. "And why not?"
"You were born to make a fortune." Max answered with a smile.
"I don't hold my hand back when I know I can get something by reaching out." Mary told the man.
"Is that his bandanna?" George asked skeptically.
"It most certainly is." Mary retorted. "It's not likely any identity is going to be revealed now that he's dead."
Raphael looked at the bag lady with disgust before looking back over at the child.
"I hope he didn't have anything catching." The child commented.
"No fear in that." Mary replied. "I wouldn't have stayed around him when he got into that fight if I knew he had something bad about him." Max pulled something out of the bag. "Looked at those pads and belt. Best leather you can find around." Mary told him. "They took a beaten and still look like new." Max ran his fingers over the pads and belts. "They would have been wasted if it weren't for me."
"What do you mean by that?" The child asked.
"They were going to let him be bury like that, the fools." Mary laughed. "But I soon took it off him when nobody was lookin'."
"You snuck into the funeral home?" The child asked in astonishment.
"A funeral home!" Mary exclaimed. "Don't make me laugh. There is no way that a body like that was going to be allowed anywhere near there or for burial with the general population."
Everyone started cackling hysterically and Raphael felt his head start to spin. He started to lean back against the wall to support himself, but found that he was leaning against a post instead. The young turtle turned around to see a bed with a white sheet covering something. A full body shiver ran all over him as he looked at the lumps under the sheet.
Christmas Future stood at the head of the bed, staring at Raphael. The young turtle felt those yellow eyes burrow into him again. Then the spirit pointed to the body that was in the bed.
"I understand what ya want me ta do spirit." Raphael told Christmas Future. He took a deep breath to build up courage to grab the sheet and move it. But as his shaking hand moved toward the white silken cloth, the young turtle found that he could not do as he was told to. "I'd do it if I could, but I've not da power spirit." He said in cracked voice while pulling his hand back. "I've not da power."
The Shredder-like spirit pulled his hand back and looked at the young turtle curiously.
"Is der no one dat feels emotion at dis person's death?" Raphael asked. "So me some tenderness dat could be connected with death."
Christmas Future pointed for them to go somewhere and in a minute they were in the lair.
Donatello was sitting at his computer, staring at the screen. A pencil was wobbling loosely between his teeth while he lightly poked at the mouse. Michelangelo was laying down on the couch in front of the many televisions, but none were turned on.
Raphael could not understand why the lair looked so…dreary. If this was the Eve, where was the tree and decorations? Where were the presents wrapped in colorful paper?
"How long do you think Leo will be gone this time?" The orange clad turtle asked solemnly.
Donatello sighed in an 'I don't know' kind of way.
"Master Splinter always liked the park, didn't he?"
"Hmm-huh."
"Think he's happy now that he going to be there…forever?"
This time no reply came from Donatello.
Michelangelo rolled off the couch and sundered over to his purple clad brother. Without asking permission, he draped himself upon his brother's shoulders. "I miss him."
Donatello made no move to knock his youngest brother off or scold him. He just reached a hand up behind him and patted the orange clad on the head.
The doors to the lair open up and a tired looking Leonardo wandered in. "Master Splinter would have liked today." He stated in a forced cheerfulness. "The sun was just peaking through the clouds and the newly fallen snow looked like a silver walkway."
"Did you visit…his grave site?" Michelangelo asked coldly.
"Yes." Leonardo answered with a nod. "You still angry with him."
"I don't think I'll ever not be angry with him." Michelangelo replied. "As far as I'm concerned, it's his fault that Master Splinter is dead."
That's when it all sank in for Raphael. Suddenly he realized that they were talking about his master, sensei, father, being dead. He turned to the Shredder-like spirit. "Say it ain't so." The young turtle begged. "Please tell me dat Master Splinter ain't dead."
Christmas Future said nothing, but wandered in through the double sliding doors that led to the rat master's room. Raphael followed after the Shredder-like spirit into the room. There, laying on a futon bed, was the young turtles' beloved master. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping, but he also looked so old. His gray fur was pure white, as white as the sheet that was wrapped around his body with tender care.
Leonardo wandered into the room and took Splinter's hand into his. "I visited your resting place today." He told his master. "It's peaceful and quiet, just what you always wanted." The young turtle in blue inhaled deeply, fighting back tears that were welling up in his eyes. "Master, why did you let him get to you like he did?" Leo asked with a cracked voice. "You know he was always like this, but why suddenly let it get to you?" He started to gasp for air a little as he continued to fight back the sobs that were building up in his throat. "Now he's dead too…and I couldn't…protect him."
Raphael stood shocked. He wondered whom Leo was talking about. Who couldn't his elder brother protect? Who died?
"Two deaths on our head." Leonardo cried. "Two deaths that have driven us to change. Donnie rarely talks anymore, I'm afraid he might stop talking like he did when he was little. And Mikey…has become angry, just like Raph. I'm worried that he will be like Raph one day." The young turtle sniffled deep as a few tears escaped his eyes. "What should I do if he does? What if he runs out and does something as equal stupid and I can't be there to protect him either? His death alone will kill Donnie off for sure and then…I'll be alone." Leo grasped his sensei's kimono. "What should I do now to keep our family together master?" Suddenly the blue clad turtle buried his face deep into his rat father's chest to cry, as he must have done many times before.
Raphael suddenly felt his cheek become wet with tears of his own at the sight of his eldest brother crying uncontrollably upon his master's chest.
Outside the room, the door to the alien elevator opened to reveal April. In her arms she carried bags of take-out food. "Hi guys." The young woman said with a forced smile. "Brought you something to eat." She took the food over to the table that was in the television area and put them down.
"Thank Ape." Michelangelo said, making no move to get off his brother's shoulders.
"What are you guys working on?" The red head asked.
"Nothing." Michelangelo replied. "Just sorta staring at nothing."
"Is Leo back yet?" April inquired.
"Yeah, he's in the sensei's bedroom." Michelangelo answered. "Talking to him. I guess it makes him feel better."
"I'm really sorry about what has happened to you guys." April said in a sympathetic tone. "I wish there was something I could do to help you guys out."
Leonardo came out of his master's room. "Coming down here to visit with us is good enough." His eyes were perfectly dry; one would not have known that he was crying.
"You know, if you want, you are always welcome to come up and stay with me for as long as you like." April offered. "In fact, you can move into the basement apartment I have."
"Thanks for the offer April, but living above ground isn't right for us." Leonardo told the red head.
"Well the offer is still out for whenever you guys want to take it." April replied.
Raphael watched with watery eyes as everyone gathered around the food. They all took very little and ate even less than what they took.
Christmas Future put a hand onto the young turtle's shoulder and motions with his head that they should move on. Raphael nodded sadly as he followed the spirit out of the lair.
Suddenly the young turtle found himself wandering round a glooming graveyard. There was fog at least a foot from the ground, making it hard for him to see where he was stepping.
Knowing that he wasn't truly alone, Raphael called out. "Spirit, answer me one question. Are these the shadows of things dat will be or da shadow of things dat maybe only?"
Christmas Future said nothing, but pointed to a grave maker that was next him. It was not made of stone like all the other markers, but made of wood. A name was poorly scratched into it.
"People's actions determine certain ends, so long as dey persist dem." Raphael said to the Shredder-like spirit. "But if der actions change, der ends change too."
Christmas Future continued to point his bladed hand at the grave marker.
"Say it so with what ya showed me." Raphael said in a demanding tone.
Still the Shredder-like spirit pointed to the grave marker.
With deep breaths, Raphael managed to build up the courage to look. Written upon the plank of wood was his name. He looked back at Christmas Future with a mixture of fright and shock.
"Am I…da person layin' upon dat bed?" Raphael asked in grasps.
The shiny yellow eyes of the spirit pierced into him once more.
"Oh no spirit." Raphael told Christmas Future while shaking his head vigorously and waving a finger. "Spirit, no, no." He started to back away. "Spirit hear me, I'm not da person I once was. Why show me dis if I'm passed all hope." The young turtle let out a smug laugh before falling to his knees. "Spirit have pity on me." He begged.
Christmas Future's eyes just stared at him.
"I'll know Christmas in my heart and keep it all da year." Raphael cried. "Da three spirits of Christmas will thrive in me. I will not shut out da lesson dat dey teach." He started to sob. "Oh let me wash away the writtin' on dis plank!"
Suddenly the eyes that were piercing into the young turtle extinguished and the Shredder-like spirit fell back into nothing, but a pile of dust.
Raphael jumped to his feet with fright. "No spirit, don't leave me alone!" He cried as the ground began to tremble.
The young turtle turned to look at his grave marker. It bounced about in the ground before it fell back as the dirt beneath his feet began to spread apart. The dirt continued to move apart until a hole was formed and Raph looked in to see himself in an open box. His pads, his bandanna, his belt were missing. His pale green skin was covered in cuts and bruises.
As he stared at his dead body in disbelief, the ground beneath his feet broke away. The young turtle fell into his own grave and on top of his withering body of death. While looking upon his beaten face with shock, the grave shook until a great hole formed underneath both him and his dead body.
Raphael clutched his stone-like body to him as he fell and screamed with fright to ears that could not hear him.
A/N: You all thought I was going to use Leo as Christmas Future, I know from the reviews. But felt like he wasn't fitted for such a role as the Shredder was.
So, do you think that Raph will come out ok? Do you think he has learned his lesson or was it already too late for him?