Author's Note: Another mini chappy, woo! XO Just trying to build up more character and feeling. Lemme know what cha thing:B

Chapter Rating: PG-13, for harsh language.

MINI CHAPTER II: Nightmares

He stood silently in the frame of his room's doorway, standing very still in the dark. He stared into the black nothingness of the hallway, his eyes fixed on where the entrance to the den's living room would be. Taking slow, measured breaths to keep quiet, he listened to her dream.

Or rather, listened to her nightmares.

It was her nightmare that had woken him. It was her nightmares that always woke him. His room was the closest to the den, and the first night she had slept in their dwelling, he had thought he had heard something suspicious moving. The rustling of clothes had slowly distracted him from sleeping, and the soft murmurs he heard soon after yanked him out of sleep. His body tingled with alarm and readiness that first night, and he remembered he had his sai in his hand for the possible intruder. It was then that he realized it was only her, gasping and sobbing in her sleep. Every night, it was always her. Always having a nightmare.

Standing in that doorway, Raphael continued to listen to her, his brow steep and lined with concentration. This was the only time since that first night that he had gotten out of bed to listen, and it was a lot more difficult to stay and listen to her than it was to apprehend that possible intruder that night. She made sounds that made him think of things he really didn't want to think about.

Cautiously, he forced himself to creep toward the den, his foot falls as silent as the lair around him. The hallway around him was shrouded in blackness, but by memory and his heightened senses he reached the den's entrance, peering into the dark at her restless form. With baited breath he listened, hearing her body writhe and roll on the couch cushions beneath her. She moaned softly and breathed quickly, sounding frantic. Raphael's eyes remained set on the space where the couch would be in the darkness, practically watching her thrash even though the room was black.

It was the same thing every night. She moaned and panted, writhed and panicked. And then she would cry. That's what would keep him up. Longer after her nightmare would end and she would restart her sleep cycle, he remained awake. Her sobbing pulled at the pit of his stomach, made it ache with discomfort. Her sobs echoed with such suffering, her moans were of such misery…he couldn't stand it anymore. But he didn't know what he could do.

Stepping closer to the couch, he listened still, hearing her wriggle weakly in her sleep. Her panting had now become strained sobs. She whimpered softly and twisted under her blanket, and after another step in her direction, she suddenly went silent.

He tensed.

The sound of her on her feet and moving was almost inaudible, but his experienced senses knew exactly where she was. Her panicked breathing from moments before was now measured and quiet. The whispers of her clothing and foot falls were now unheard, and only by his years of ninjitsu did he sensed her moving closer. Instinctively he raised his defenses, recognizing her alarm and fear and knowing that it could possibly lead to an attack.

"What are you doing?"

Her voice sounded tired and weary, and was barely above a whisper. It came from across the couch.

"…You woke me up."

It wasn't really an answer, and his tone wasn't very friendly, but it was all he could think of. He suddenly felt uncomfortable and defensive, being caught like this, and didn't have a plan for 'if she woke up'. He felt his cheeks heat up at being caught in the act of spying, and desperately wished he had chosen the 'I don't give a shit' mentality. At least he wouldn't be in this situation.

"…You heard me?"

Her soft, perplexed tone ebbed the frustration he was feeling, but he still longed to slip away and back into the comfortable darkness of his room. He didn't have to explain himself to his room. After an extended silence, he backed away, heading toward the safety of his bedroom.

"Please don't go."

It wasn't her request that made him stop, but her tone. The fear in her voice caused his feet to become immensely heavy.

"Please don't let me have that dream again."

Slowly, he turned and took a step back into the den, peering at her through the darkness. His insides twisted and fought with his emotions, wanting to walk away and forget her and at the same time wanted to know and help her.

"What dream?"

He was first answered by the night's silence and her soft, slow breathing. If it wasn't for his growing curiosity he would have walked away then and there, and he could sense her struggling with her words. Her whisper was very low and empty when she answered.

"It's the same every night. I'm running for my life…and then I just fall. I fall into nothing. I fall forever."

Her voice trembled with the feelings from her memory, and he heard the couch cushions sigh beneath her as she sunk into them.

"I never stop falling…and I'm frightened. I'm alone and scared and falling forever. It makes me cry 'cause I'm so frightened…so alone…"

The gloom in her tone matched the sobs echoing in Raphael's head from the nights before. She spoke as though she were by herself, and that somehow made him feel very sorry for her. She continued on, quietly.

"I think it's because I have no control anymore. I react and behave and…struggle because all these emotions that I was taught were wrong to feel. I have no control…I have no purpose."

His eyes narrowed in confusion as he played over the last few words she said.

"I was made to do one thing only – follow orders without question. And now I do not do that anymore. I cannot do that anymore. I cannot assassinate a target and his wife with three children anymore. So now…I serve no purpose. The thing I was made for, I cannot do. How do you go on and make a life…when you realize that all you were made for was to take it? And when you realize you were never meant to have a life of your own."

Her tone dropped down another somber note and she stuttered a sob.

"I'm a ghost. I'm a body with no name or history, that's not supposed to even exist. And now I realize it…and I feel it. I really wish I hadn't discovered how to be more human…to experience emotion. Then I wouldn't know how really worthless I am."

For some reason, anger sparked deep in Raphael's chest. The sadness that was trickling slowly down his heart for her suddenly vanished and was replaced with intense irritation. He sauntered over to her, his brow set steeply and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her to her feet roughly.

"So you just give up, huh? Feel sorry for yerself? You let everyone else tell you how good yer s'pposed ta feel about yerself just 'cause no one told you it's okay ta not know every God-damn thing about the life ahead of you?"

His grasp was tight on her from his mounting frustration, and with a great deal of effort he tried to keep his voice down.

"So you have no said purpose now – so what! I'm a fuckin' mutant turtle and I can still get out of bed and live a fuckin' life! I'm not even suppose'ta exist either, but you better believe I'm gonna live and laugh and all that shit! I'm not gonna feel sorry for myself while I do it, either."

That was a lie. He and self pity knew each other well, but that wasn't gonna stop him from making this girl listen to some sense. She had a lot more of chance of leading a normal life than he did, and he wanted her to see that. He felt her trembling in his grip, and he felt her warm breath against his face as he watched her through the darkness, nose to nose.

"Don't let people decide how you should feel and act – you decide that. And you shouldn't take any shit from anybody who tries to make ya do something other than what you want. I know you don't, I saw you be YOU that first night we met. You make up yer own purpose, just like you made it yer purpose to protect that damn vile. That's being a real person Yin, and that's how I know I'm a fuckin' person and not just so God-damn freak. I make my fuckin' destiny, not wait for it to find me."

Raphael realized he had begun to shake her, and released her abruptly, dropping his hands with a sigh. His insides were still boiling with his emotion, and he recognized that he was not just saying all this for her sake. He may be emotional and frustrated, but he could recognize an epiphany when he sees one.

Yin was silent and shaking in front of him, her breath shallow. Raphael gazed hesitantly into the dark space where he knew her eyes would be, and debated anymore discussion. Well, lecture. Not discussion. Suddenly Leonardo popped into his head and he cringed. Something else needed to be said now.

Reaching out, he rested a hand lightly on her arm where he had so tightly gripped her, rubbing the bruise he knew could possibly be there with remorse. His heart blazed with frustration and lurched with sympathy all at the same time, and he realized how much he and she had in common. Suddenly, he couldn't help but feel a little less lonely. A little more understood. He dropped his hand after a careful and meaningful squeeze on her arm, switching his tone to something more friendly. Friendly was hard due to his riled feelings, but he tried none the less.

"Yin…I don't mean ta yell. I just want you to know that yer not worthless. You've got people right here in this lair who care if you live or die. And someone right in front of you who don't regret meeting you that night, and bringin' you down here. Someone who can understand what yer goin' through."

Letting her absorb that for a moment, Raphael turned. He took a step toward his room when her hand found his, making him freeze. Her fingers were slender between his, and she squeezed weakly around one of his two fingers.

"Don't go yet. Please? Don't go 'til I fall asleep?"

Raphael felt sleep tickle his calming body, and at the same time a warming, happy feeling well in his chest. The warring emotions that were twisting his innards all the time came to a slowing stand still, soothed by the genuine want and need in her voice. The acceptance and respect in it.

It felt good.

He led her to the couch and waited until she laid down beneath the blanket. Meandering over to the armchair, he sat down and watched her in the darkness, listening to her breathing. When he heard it slip into the slow rhythm of slumber, he crept out of the room and into his, closing the door.

He slept until morning with no further interruptions.