If you recognize it, it ain't mine. All I got is my oc's.
Chapter 12
Marlowe's POV
After reliving nearly my entire life, I found myself without Roxy at the foot of a mountain in the darkness. A pin-prick of light shined at it's apex. Around me, I could hear voices but they were quite muffled. The more I climbed, the clearer they got. But at a point, almost halfway up, I heard something that made my blood boil. That bastard had abused my baby.
That made me even more determined to fight my way up this slope. Old ghosts dogged my steps, but would vanish when I turned to face them. I wondered if this was some sort of twisted test.
I sat down to rest a bit and meditate a little, looking for the courage to finish the climb. I made a small fire and in the flames, I saw a very pretty young girl with a facial scar.
"Mom," she whispered, "Come on, Mama. Wake up."
The flames flickered and it was gone. However, that was just the motivation I needed. I was determined to fight my way back to my daughter.
In this place, the sun never rose, neither did the moon. But, somehow I didn't need their light. I could see perfectly fine. It did look a little strange, like seeing it through a starlight camera, where all the objects are varying shades of gray.
Filled with motherly anger, I would climb those razor sharp boulders and rocks until my fingers bled and then rest long enough for new skin to barely cover the damage before repeating the process. It seemed like it took weeks of this to get past the halfway point. The more I climbed, the farther away the top and the light seemed to be.
A feral part of me took over I could climb faster and father than before. Callouses built much faster than before. There was a fire in my chest, in my heart. It led me onward. My baby needed me and that was all that mattered to me. From there, the distance seemed to shorten to the point where I could take a single step and be there.
My eyes burned. I tried to open them and instantly shut them again, preferring the darkness to the harshness of the awful lights.
With my teeth and tongue, I felt the tubes in my mouth and relaxed around them. I wondered how long I had been out. As I was able to feel a little more, I found a hand in my own. Judging by the fingers, callouses, and scars, it was familiar. Raph.
I could hear him, but not speak yet.
"Hey, Uncle Raph," I heard a voice speak from the doorway.
"Hey, Munchkin. What are you doin' up?"
"I couldn't sleep," I heard a girls soft voice reply.
"Nightmare again," he asked, his voice soft.
"Yeah," she whispered, "Still hearing her sing to me when I was little."
I heard Raph reply, "Ugh. Sorry, Munchkin." After a pause, he added, "Can you sit with yer ma for a few? I need to visit the little turtles room."
"Yes," I heard her laugh.
A moment later, I felt her small human hand in my own. I squeezed it gently and started to tap out a sequence with my fingertips. I hadn't made it very far before she ripped her hand from mine.
She whispered, her voice shaking, "Hang on, Mom." before tipping her bead back and yelling for Don at the top of her lungs.
It was as moving to me as her first cries had been. I couldn't stop the tears that started to leak from the corners of my eyes. Feeling her gently wiping them away only caused more to follow them.
"Don't cry; I'm here" she whispered softly, unknowingly repeating my first words to her when she was born.
Her hand slipped back into mine as a second pair of hands grasped my other wrist.
"Marlowe," Don said firmly in his Doctor voice.
I weakly grasped his wrist.
He chuckled and said softly, "Rest, Lowe. I'll take out your tubes while you sleep."
A/N-Woot!