Rated M for Mature

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Ch. 8

Marlowe POV

Angel and I had been standing in the living room talking about breakfast that day when I felt really dizzy and nauseated all of a sudden. It had happened before, but it always went away after a few moments, so I forced myself to breathe and I swallowed hard. As I reached for Angel, my eyes went wonky and I felt myself falling.

I must have landed pretty hard, because the place where I woke up wasn't in our home. As I came to, I felt grass around me. It was quite tall and smelled of sunshine and good dirt.

After lying there for a few minutes, letting the dizziness fade away again, I sat up slowly. As I pulled myself up on my knees, I chanced a look around. I found myself on the great plains, or at least what I thought they must have looked like before the wasicu. In my Lakota mind, those men didn't warrant the name white. They were greedy and cruel; making back room deals on land they had never seen, populated by peoples and cultures that they refused to begin to try to understand. This was the land of my Elders.

As I felt another wave of nausea and dizziness approaching, I leaned over onto my hands and knees. Before me, a pair of dirty but modern Army boots stopped.

After the dizziness passed, I looked up to see a pair of eyes I knew all too well, having seen them every day in the mirror.

"Well," he said. "Ya better follow me, kid. She's gonna want to see ya."

I slowly stood up and followed the man who was my biological father to an Eastern style garden hidden in some trees.

"She is right through here," he said, pointing to a stone arch I hadn't seen before. "Keep fighting, kiddo," he finished as he turned to walk away.

"Thanks, Daddy," I whispered.

He stopped and said, without turning back towards me, "If I had known, what would happen that night, and the hell you would go through because of it, I never would have insisted to take your mother to dinner. I'm sorry, Tokala. I'm so sorry," he said sadly before he faded away.

I sighed, remembering the night I had learned my parents had died. My despair quickly faded to curiosity. I entered into the garden and saw a beautiful woman sitting on a stone bench in a 1950's housewife's dress.

When she stood and turned, I knew her, I had been seeing photos of her since Pop had adopted me. Tang Shen.

"Marlowe Jean, what are you doing here," she asked, obviously concerned.

I shook my head and answered, "I don't know. You know me?"

She smiled that sweet, gentle smile that only a mother can and replied, "Yes. I have watched you for years. I protected you when Yoshi couldn't, I watched you grow into the beautiful woman you are now. I watched as you taught your brothers what you learned in the Marines, and I walked beside you when you went to war.

I know that your father, brothers, and friends are terribly worried about you. Young Raphael has stayed up with you, as has Donatello. Your brothers lose sleep keeping watch over you. But, you could never ask for better protectors or nurses.

Marlowe, you shouldn't be here. You should be there. You should not be caught between worlds. There is a certain young man who is, and has been, waiting to meet you."

I sighed, "Ma, my track record with men ain't the greatest. I mean, Jackie beat the hell out of me for 6 years before he took Fawn and ran off. And Robbie sent me a 'Dear Jane' letter while I was in Iraq."

Shen just smiled serenely, "I know. Jack took off when he saw my ghost standing guard over you and my granddaughter one night as you slept. Robbie was cheating and had a run in with me as well. I also know that this young man will be the one, no matter how long you choose to drag it out. He is much better than those other two idiots were and I, for one, approve of this one. As an added bonus, your father and brothers already like him."

"But, Ma," I started.

"Plus, when your daughter finds you, he will be the one she has always dreamed of having as a father figure," Shen added, cutting me off.

I sighed, knowing from Pop's stories that it was pointless to argue. "Fine."

"Great," Shen exclaimed. "Just follow that path and it will lead you back to your body," she said as she pointed back the way I came in. However, instead of a stone archway, now there was a gravel road. "And as a companion and protector on that road," she said then whistled, "A loyal and brave friend from your past."

As she said that, a Husky mix came and sat down next to me.

"Roxy," I yelled as I crouched to sink my hands in her ruff, remembering the night she died when Jack killed her for defending Fawn and I. It had taken me all of the next day to bury her and clean up all the blood.

I started off down the lane in the direction Ma had indicated, Roxy right next to me, wondering how long it would take me to find my way out and would it be worth it when I did.

Suddenly, I felt like someone had picked me up and tossed me around like a salad. I landed on my rear somewhere I swore I would never see again. Afghanistan.

Don POV

Two weeks had passed since Marlowe went down, and although she stubbornly refused to wake up, the effects of the medications were finally wearing off. However, the screams she would let loose occasionally would churn our stomachs; just how much had Lowe survived.

We all knew about her service while she was in the Corps, but us boys didn't know anything about what had happened when she was younger. Not until Dad sat us down and told us, all of us.

I wasn't happy when Dad said to include Usagi in the tale, but we called him into the sitting room anyway.

Not one of us knew that when Dad had found her she was covered in matted hair and lice. We didn't know that she was filthy and dressed in rags in the dead of winter. We had no idea how skinny she was, or how hard she and Dad had worked to get her back up to the right weight for her age. We had no clue how hard it was for Dad when she started hoarding food in her bedroom, or when he found her bag all set to be thrown out again.

He told us it took them months for her to be comfortable enough around him to ask for things without flinching. He told us he felt horrible the first time he sent her to her room or gave her extra chores at the dojo. He said she cried the first time she got presents on her birthday or Christmas. But when she got a just because present from Dad, she bawled.

But, the hardest thing for us to listen to were the things Dad had heard from Uncle Pete about the time she was with her biological uncle. He said her mothers little brother beat her for no reason. She had been placed in his care at five years old and thrown out at nine. In between, she had done time in one of the city's worst orphanages, and when the older kids had run away, they took Lowe with them but left her at St, Mary's where Uncle Pete was a pastor. The state sent her back to her uncle, who beat her again and threw her out at 9. He had never called her by her name and the only one she remembered when she met Dad was "burden". He found out later her birthname was Ninah Big Bear.

We always knew she is Lakota, but never knew the struggle for Dad to adopt her. He had to fight to be allowed to. But, eventually, the Elders decided they were a good fit and as long as he showed her the same amount of patience and persistence that he showed them, it would work; provided he bring her to different functions and allow her to immerse herself in her culture during the summer.

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