Confrontation

Luna shot straight up in bed sensing a rip in the fabric of power surrounding her home and struggled to untangle herself from the quilts, sheets, and pillows that seemed determined to keep her trapped. Her struggles alerted Leonardo, who slept on the floor, unwilling to leave her alone now that he understood the threat to her soul.

Though tonight the terrible draining had not commenced, he stayed apart so he wouldn't be distracted by her physical presence and she wouldn't be inconvenienced by the blades he still wore.

"Luna?"

He barked only her name, already on his feet with a katana in hand as he glared around suspiciously at the darkness, but she understood what he was asking.

"Living room," she managed to gasp out, despite her predicament.

He simplified things by knotting one large, green hand in the covers at the foot of the bed and removing them with a swift tug. She paused to admire his strength for a moment, looking him up and down. He gave her a quick tight grin, appreciating the visual compliment, even as he hustled her out of the room and down the hall toward the disturbance.

"Hades, the bowl!"

Master Splinter rarely shouted and the sound of his raised voice brought his other sons out of bed with alacrity. Raphael cleared the balcony in a single bound with Donatello hot on his heels. Everyone skidded to a halt at the various entrances, shocked into stillness by the sight of Hades holding a tiny crystal bowl aloft in the center of the chamber.

A purple flame faltered within.

"Medes?"

Luna's startled exclamation made them all jump and a whimper escaped her lips for the tragic, pale, and injured little being. Leo stepped in front of her when she moved as if to go to it.

"We don't know what it is yet," he said, placing a hand on her arm and pulling her gently to him

The soul flickered once, dark then dull, but made no response.

"Where did it come from?" Don asked.

He raised a single brow ridge and the set of his mouth said he clearly didn't believe it to be the real Medes, not after last time.

"Well?" he asked again when no answer seemed forthcoming.

"Patience," Hades said. His mild rebuke quieted them all as he examined the bowl and its contents carefully. "It appears to have a homing amulet."

April, the only human in residence was slowest to react. She stumbled in rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but she was armed, a single katana on her back. At the words 'homing amulet' her eyes widened and she groaned. "Oh, no."

Raphael turned on her with a storm in his eyes. "Ya know somethin' about this?"

"Sol made me the amulet," April said. She crossed her arms and squared her shoulders against the looming bulk of the angry turtle. "To give me an escape if something immortal attacked me outside the lair."

Leo turned to her sharply and she shrugged.

"It's a sweet thing and it worries. Like you do," she said, nodding in Leo's direction. "It couldn't convince me to spend all my time 'at home' so it offered me another option."

"How did you lose it?" Hades asked, his inquiry direct and his voice rough.

"I didn't."

"April, where is Michelangelo?" Splinter asked.

Don's gaze bounced around to all the entrances, expecting his tardy brother to pop in at any second, but Splinter's eyes never left April, waiting for an answer. She blinked.

"I don't know," she said. "He went after Medes." She nodded to the soul in the bowl. "Looks like he found it."

The silence was deafening. Leo, Raph, and Don stared at her with shock written all over their faces.

"Ya let our crazy, little brotha' out of the lair to hunt for an immortal stronghold- ALONE?" Raph yelled.

"Raphael Hamato, I am not now, nor have I ever been, your brother's keeper!"

There was a sigh before she spoke again, hanging her head in evident guilt. "But I did help him plan, and I gave him the amulet as a 'just in case'. I didn't think he would find anything."

Donatello gave her a look of disappointment which hurt worse than Raph's outburst, but Luna shook off Leo's arm and glided across the room to April's side, taking her hand.

"Michelangelo is impetuous, but it is his heart which drives him," Luna said. "No matter what you did, he would have gone."

"Still could've told us about it," Raph said, grumbling. "He shouldn't be out there alone."

Luna caught his eyes, frowned, and indicated the young woman to her right with a jerk of her head. April's usually stoic face had misery written all over it. His gaze softened.

"S'okay April. I know how he gets," Raph said, trying to make his voice less accusatory.

Splinter blinked. Not in the least used to his hot-tempered son backing down and apologizing for his anger. The goddess was working miracles.

"What's important now is we find him," Don said, heading for his lab and his terminal. "I can track Mikey's cell phone and barring that his DNA, body mass, or temperature."

Hades cleared his throat and held out the faded soul pitiful in his grasp.

"This, I believe, is a more pressing matter," Hades said, his voice grave.

Don barely flicked a glance at the bowl and continued from the room as if Hades hadn't spoken.

"So it is Medes?" Leo asked.

"What's left of it," Hades replied, sighing quietly. His eyes held an infinite sadness for he had seen far too many damaged souls.

"What can we do?"

Hades shook his head. "If it had a soul mate, it might heal, but it hasn't bonded."

Luna's face crumpled and she crept closer to the bowl, reaching a gently glowing silver finger toward the soul in offering. Medes shrank away, a little curve forming in its teardrop form as it flinched. It did not deserve help from the goddess.

"Don't!"

Donatello came rushing back into the room and knocked Luna's hand away, interposing himself between her and the bowl. He thrust her back so hard Raphael jumped to catch her before she fell. Raph balanced Luna and glared at his younger brother, but Don ignored him, panting harshly, his eyes wide with fear.

"Do not touch that thing!" Don yelled.

He remembered well what it felt like the last time he did so. April put a hand over her mouth. Donatello almost never raised his voice. She had never seen him so worked up.

"Don," Leo said, laying a hand on his shoulder, "calm down."

Donatello jumped, spun on his brother, and lost it.

"She was about to touch it, Leo!" Don yelled, his voice pitched high and his words coming fast. "She could have been killed! Fried! Just like what happened to me. It's probably what happened to Mikey! And you were gonna stand there and let her do it!"

Leo returned his glare with a calm eyed stare and a raised brow.

"Are you finished?" Leo asked.

Don emitted a noise that was half frustration, half growl and twisted his shell to Leo, crossing his arms.

"Do you really think I would let anything harm her?" Leo demanded.

"Get rid of it please, Hades," Donatello said in a calmer tone of voice.

"No," Hades said, his eyes raking the intelligent turtle. "It would lessen her. I am surprised at you, Donatello. I did not think any of the Hamato family would deliberately injure the goddess, you least of all."

Don's eyes widened at the denunciation and he sputtered a little before answering.

"What are you accusing me of? I spent hours helping Luna heal. I set her bones, stitched her wounds, cleaned the blood off her skin! I stopped that damned collar, invented a new computer language, integrated alien technology and magic into a shield for her and created a machine to harness the power of the gods to diagnose her illness."

Don's voice rose with every sentence and he gestured vehemently with his hands. As he reached the end of his rant, he placed himself squarely in front of Hades and held his finger in the god's face.

"I will never harm Luna, I love her!"

The statement hung in the air as Leonardo, Raphael, Splinter and April stood stunned at this outburst. Don was the last person they'd ever thought to hear spouting declarations of love loudly in public.

"Many love her," Hades said, at last. "Yet simple adoration is not enough. To keep this family together, to save the goddess, you have to do more. You must forgive yourself, Donatello, for all the things you did not do, and accept your fate."

Once again, Hades thrust the small bowel forward toward the inventor and waited to see if he would take it.

Luna's soft gasp broke the tableau as she realized what Hades couldn't say. Donatello flinched away from the ancient god, his anger draining away as fast as it appeared. He glanced around, suddenly aware of the audience surrounding them and flushed before dashing from the room to his lab, slamming the door behind him.

Hurrying over to his desk, he swept it clear with one arm, sending experiments and paperwork crashing to the floor. He sank into his chair and laid his head down, resting his hot, face against his arms, totally mortified.

What had possessed him vent in front of Luna and his brothers? Bad enough she witnessed his anger, far worse his declaration of love. Even Leo, who was usually quick to forgive, was never going to let that go.

Despite the earlier revelation they may all end up bound to her it was far from certain and it had been inappropriate for him to reveal his secret. For one thing, there was no way he could trust Medes, for another Luna would always be the unattainable goddess to him, out of reach on a pedestal of his own construction. He had no right to ask forgiveness, or to ever expect to stand beside her as a mate.

Michelangelo gritted his teeth against the pain, sat up to hide his movements, and pulled again at the handcuffs binding his wrists behind him. His arms strained against his shell in this confined position making the cuffs much more uncomfortable for him than for a regular person.

Of course, if these were the human variety they wouldn't have held him. The chain on most of those being no match for his enhanced mutant strength. These had been dipped into some sort of magic water, at least Charon claimed so.

Whatever the cause, Mikey found he was well and truly caught. The cuffs were not coming off unless his captors took them off, or he shattered his own hand. But he wasn't desperate enough to try such methods of last resort- yet. Then there were his burns. His skin stung all over and he sported a series of red rash-like abrasions from the acid.

The captain of the guards noticed his change in position. With an evil smile on his face, he marched up to the captive turtle and smacked him back into his posture of abject humiliation, prostrate in front of the Oracle.

The man deliberately ground the butt of his spear into the back of Mikey's neck forcing his forehead all the way to the cold marble floor of Serra's receiving room, stretching his arms even further. Much more of this and Mikey would end up with two dislocated shoulders. He grunted as the abrupt change reopened the gunshot wound in his leg but made no other response to the sadistic treatment.

"You poor, sweet, innocent thing," Serra purred.

She lounged on her side in a flowing white Grecian gown, her knees tucked up beside her on a velvet divan on the dais, displaying her lush figure to best advantage and pouting into a small silver hand mirror. She analyzed her own face intently as she spoke.

"Tricked into captivity by a goddess who doesn't give a damn about you," she said, patting her hair into place. "You nobly sacrificed yourself and for what? A weak little piece of soul that won't even tell anyone what happened."

She laughed, a deep rich chuckle which might have been attractive, if she were someone else, and set her mirror down on the small mahogany side table next to her with a little flourish.

"Well," she said, "let's have a proper look at you."

The Oracle swung her legs off the divan and strode majestically down the steps to stand in front of her captive, appraising him. She gestured the Captain back and lifted Mikey's head up by the simple expedient of hauling on his mask tails. He gasped as the jarring movement sent another shot of pain through his leg, but though he felt the slow trickle of blood running down his thigh increase, he was grateful for the easing of the strain on his arms.

Serra ignored the blood and place one hand regally on his head, closing her eyes. A moment later, she opened them again and growled a tiny frustrated noise.

"Too close to the goddess to see your future," she declared, "but your aura is that of an innocent."

She smiled, but it was not sweet, wickedly tilting his head up with a hand under his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. His large, baby blue eyes met hers with devastating effect. She knelt before him on the floor and took his face in her palms, staring as his eyes glistened and pled silently with the ancient being to let him go.

She laughed.

"All kinds of captives come through here, monster," she said, running her thumbs caressingly over his cheeks, "and I have seen every possible emotion on the faces of those that came before you; hatred, defiance, petulance, fear, aggression, and even ambition."

Without warning, she pulled his face in and kissed him full on the mouth, her wet lips hot against his. He froze, wanting to pull back, yet motion was painful and there was the guard to consider.

Taking his stillness for submission, she sought to deepen the kiss, probing at him with her tongue and moving her hands to hold his mask tails tightly. In the end, he simply turned his head away as much as he could. She chuckled.

"Your innocence will not sway me in the least," she said, licking her lips. "But I like the way it tastes."

The Captain grimaced in disgust but blanked his expression when Serra turned her gaze on him with an arched brow.

"When you live as long as I have, Captain, you learn to appreciate the exotic."

Serra waved dismissively, "Clean him up and collar him."

She sashayed to a side door and turned casting a sultry glance over her shoulder.

"I want him stripped and chained in my pleasure chamber," she said, and as an afterthought added, "He can keep the mask."

She turned once more toward Michelangelo, her hand on the door.

"See you later."

Her voice promised dark, dangerous, things and Mikey found himself utterly unprepared for his body's response. A rush of adrenaline, anticipation, and dread he didn't know how to interpret. She laughed again at the confusion and consternation on his face and closed the door behind her. Michelangelo shuddered and dropped his head as the quiet thud echoed through the room sealing his fate.