Tripping Over Me, Over You

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys!

Chapter Four,

O'Keeffe

The first few hours in the apartment were nothing. Raph spent that time napping on the couch, doing a few exercises (his determination to beat Leo had grown even stronger), or watching some television.

It was Sunday morning, so there wasn't a lot on, just the news, some talk shows and a couple of kid's cartoons. He channel surfed for a while before giving up on it.

He checked on George every half hour, but she'd started to move around in her sleep, so he wasn't worried about her. She's just exhausted, he concluded before settling down in the comfy arm chair he'd moved in from the living room.

Raph had flipped through her book collection, and picked out one entitled Firmin. The book had been sitting on the nightstand next to the old lamp. It was a new book, the spin barley broken. The back said that it was about a rat that lived in the basement of an old book store (déjà vu?) and learned to read and talk, and eventually tired to fit in with society. Raph could already tell that the book would not end well, but it spoke to him, and he decided to leaf through it for a while.

He stretched his long green legs out, and propped his feet up on the end of the bed that George wasn't sprawled out on. He groan a little as he stretched, feeling the strain in his muscles. He always got sore when it was cold, so did the rest of the turtles.

He opened the book, and a small picture dropped out of the pages. It was George's father, Raph could tell just by looking at him. She was the spitting image of him; curly black hair, dark eyes and complexion, leanly built. It was spooky really. The man had a warm smile, and was holding his fingers up in a peace sign, the other arm was looped around George. The picture must have been fairly old, George had very short hair in the picture, tomboy-ish and curly. Her face was young, smooth and worry free, she even had a big goofy smile on her face, and she was looking up at her father with a daughter's love in her eyes.

He smiled sadly at the picture, and couldn't help but feel another twinge of envy in his heart. To grow up in a normal family, with normal friends, attend school and just hang out. He'd been blessed with a loving family and a good (albeit odd) home, but he still couldn't help but pine for a normal life. Maybe a life where he didn't have to hide underneath a trench coat, or behind a mask—where he could walk on the streets at noon and not worry about what people thought of him, a life that he didn't have to fight to keep. Oh, and normal people didn't have to fight ninjas!

He turned the picture around and there was something written on the back: O KeeffeThe O'Keeffe family before the cancer. We're a happy family.

Cancer? He thought. She doesn't have cancer.

He put the book on his lap, and began rummaging through the mess on the night stand, sure enough there was anther picture there. This one was of George and her father again, but in this one her father's long hair was gone. He was making the same peace sign with his fingers, and his arm was looped around George. His face seemed older, with more wrinkles around the edges of his eyes. But, George had changed; her hair was a bit longer, but the smile was gone from her face. There were dark circles around her eyes from not sleeping, and she had a scowl on her face, but her eyes held the same love for her father, it was just a sad, faraway love.

Oh, he couldn't help but think, so that's what happened to her.

On the back there was another message. The O'Keeffe family after the cancer…but still just as happy, right baby doll? You should smile more, like you used to.

So it had been her father who wrote the messages on the back. The twinge of envy was gone from Raph's heart, and replaced with something like pity. He didn't dwell on it long, he was too tired, but he did draw the connection of her name. There was a famous painter in the early 1900's, she'd painted these huge pictures of giant flowers. Her name had been Georgia O'Keeffe.

The irony wasn't lost on Raph as he picked up the book and book and began to skim through its chapters. His eyelids were heavy, and it wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep, the book dropping back into his lap, and his head falling to his chest.O Keeffe