DISCLAIMER: Well, Eastman and Laird are rich, I'm not, which proves that I don't own the turtles. I just like to torture them from time to time.

CHAPTER 11 – History Lessons

If it had not been for Leo sitting there with her, holding her hand, and doing such a remarkable job of distracting her with conversation, Don would have had a difficult time re-dressing Beth's wound.

As it was, Leo's soft baritone voice and calm demeanor seemed to placate the girl's anxiety.

Maybe she was still in shock or, quite possibly, she sensed their intent to help her. Whatever the reason, Beth was impressed with the speed and efficiency that Don displayed in replacing the soiled dressing with fresh wrappings. He had even given her the opportunity to clean the blood off herself, apparently mindful of her aversion to having someone touch her.

How he knew this without finding out the hard way mystified the girl. Just the same, his caring approach deeply affected her.

As he re-wrapped her injured side, his dexterity was another quality that appeased her fears. Never once did his fingers brush against her skin. All he did was gently, yet firmly, wind the sterilized ribbons of cloth around her midsection. Even when he secured them in place against the fabric with small metal grabs, he did so with a gentleness that surprised her.

When he was finished, Don smiled at her as he instructed, "You should take it easy for a few days. No bending or lifting. As for showering, I would wait a while longer in order to give your wound time to heal."

As he was getting ready to leave, however, she suddenly asked him, "How – how did I injure myself?"

Don looked at her, sincere sympathy etched across his face. Then, as he smiled compassionately, he replied, "It is better if you let Master Splinter tell you." Then, before she could press the issue further, he gave a small bow and left her with Leo.

After resigning herself to the fact that she would not be getting any immediate answers to her questions, from where she sat on the bed, Beth visually took in the room.

Earlier, while Don was changing her dressing, she learned from him that she was in Splinter's personal quarters. With that in mind, she now noted the sub car's interior.

The 'room' itself appeared shorter than what she would imagine a subway car to be. Yet upon closer inspection, Beth realized that her benefactors had erected a makeshift wall. It appeared to separate the long compartment and create what she suspected to be two rooms.

Yet, as she looked at the wall, she was rather impressed with the quality of work, an obvious testament to the turtle's creativity.

It did well to give the rooms' occupants a reasonable amount of private space.

The bed on which she was currently sitting, now shoved back into its corner and up against the wall, was a simple mattress placed upon a raised wooden platform. Although the covers were askew from where she had lain, Beth was impressed with the dark blue patchwork quilt. She fingered the material, realizing the comforter's well-worn condition. Obviously, it was rescue from someone's dumpster.

However, the Asian design that graced its jumble of squares intrigued her. It was obvious to Beth that the needlework was a new addition. The threading, varied in quality and color, shimmered slightly against the dullness of the dark blue background. However, the needlepoint white cranes gracing a simple Japanese landscape and which patterned the coverlet, spoke volumes about the talented hands that made it.

Beth smiled a little, somewhat amused that any of these creatures would posses such ability.

Looking up to inspect the rest of the room, the girl took note of the door that stood opened at the opposite end from where she sat. Placed at the end of the wall that ran across from her, its location gave a reasonable amount of privacy for the sleeping area.

Yet, it was the windows, themselves, that grabbed her attention for the moment. Adorning the upper portion of the sub car, their coverings were mostly red in color and predominately of a velvet material. It was obvious, by what she could tell, that the material had seen better days. Just the same, they did well in adding a bit of warmth, if not privacy, to the room.

Again, for such creatures to want or even need such a thing seemed incredible to her.

Just the same, she would admit that the position of the bed to the entrance gave an almost 'studio apartment' feel to the interior. When one entered the compartment, there was a reasonable amount of area to mill about without feeling claustrophobic. Even the one chair near the foot of the bed did little to cramp the allotted space.

Beth then quickly took note of the amenities the room afforded.

With a tatami mat on the tiled floor, it counterbalanced the framed silk prints that hung on the makeshift wall. Depicting scenes from Japan, their quaint motifs added an Asian ambiance to the overall theme of the decor.

Then, Beth sniffed and closed her eyes as she took in a whiff of incense that permeated her senses. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the aromatic sticks in their receptacle. They were currently burning a soft ribbon of smoke from the top of the bureau next to the bed. On the same chest of drawers and next to the incense, was a trio of candles. Each was embedded into their own respective holders as they added a soft, lighted glow to the room.

Although the sub car and its embellishments seemed to be somewhat out of place for the one who normally resided there, Beth was slowly realizing one important fact.

Despite the rat's obvious animalistic appearance, he was the farthest thing from it. .

If the coverlet and curtains were not proof of that, then, the small desk and wooden chair to the left of the door certainly was. On top and along one side of the desk was an assortment of brushes. Housed in a rusty tin can, the bristled tools paired up with what looked like tall rolls of paper. The parchments, collected together with a rubber band and placed along the back of the desk, stood next to the container of artistic implements. What surprised her most, though, was the various jars of India ink, sitting like sentries just in front of the tubes of paper.

To think that this creature would even have an interest in such creativity astounded the girl.

Amazing her even more, though, was that Splinter seemed to have collected a sizeable bit of reading material. Center to the wall between the desk and the sub car's room divider, she spied a collection of various books. Tucked neatly into a well-worn bookcase, she could not quite read the titles for the shadows that were there. Just the same, she could tell that many of them appeared written in Kanji.

She winced a bit at the memory of insulting the one turtle in red; the one Splinter said was named Raphael.

For, if their patriarch read such a language, then it was likely he taught that skill to his surrogate sons. If that were true, then the brushes and ink on the desk would indicate the rat might possibly be able to write in Kanji, as well.

Therefore, Raphael's comment to her, after she had literally insulted him, weighed heavily upon her mind.

Nevertheless, considering the room belonged to the rat himself, Beth could not help but be impressed with him.

"Who would have thought that a rat had a fetish for Asian culture?" she remarked to herself in amusement.

It was becoming obvious to Beth that these 'mutations of nature' seemed to rise above the callousness of her own species.

Now, as she and Leo sat on the edge of the bed and side by side, she noticed her hand still encased within his. Considering what had happened before, she really hadn't given much attention to that small bit of physical contact. However, now, with her fear subsiding and the pain from her wound not as bad, Beth took notice of his touch.

Since he had not done anything offensive to cause her alarm so far, she didn't seem to mind it for the moment. Where, not long ago, she had virtually brought him into her apartment and tended to his own wounds, Beth had already formed a small, if not limited, friendship with the turtle. Although her curiosity and her willingness to help him explained her involvement, his current attentiveness to her only strengthened that connection.

Consequently, for now, she would allow it.

"Are you ready?" Leo asked her, cocking his head coyly just a little as he looked at her.

Beth ducked her face a bit, licking her lips and swallowing, before saying, "I'm - not sure. I sort of – insulted your other brother, the one in red." She turned to look at her new friend and asked nervously, "Is – is he out there, in the other room?"

Shrugging, Leo replied, "Don't know. I can go look if you want me too."

Nodding, Beth accepted her friend's offer, "I'd appreciate it – a lot. He kind of worries me."

With Leo's memory somewhat truncated regarding the nature of his family, he remarked, "Well, he did insult you first. But I have to admit, he does seem to have a temper, doesn't he?" and then smiled as he said, "I'll go take a peak."

With that, he let go of Beth's hand and stepped over to the door of the sub car, staying within the softly lit confines of the room. He then looked out into the living area.

"Well, I see Splinter and Don; they're sitting on the couch talking," Leo announced quietly, "Mike is in what I think is the kitchen and he seems to be cooking something. As for Mr. Hothead…" he turned and looked back at the girl, "I think he's still in his room, sulking." Leo then went back over and stood in front of Beth, "I think it's safe for you to go out."

Taking a deep calming breath, she carefully stood up. However, as she looked at her friend, Beth startled. She remembered the walk back through the alley with him. She had wrapped him in her cloak to conceal his identity from any curious on-lookers. At the time, she had noted he stood a bit shorter than she did, allowing the length of her cloak to better hide his legs.

Now, however, he seemed taller; not by much, but he was definitely not as short as she once thought.

"Have – you grown?" she asked him, "You seem taller for some reason."

At first, Leo seemed puzzled, "Taller? How could I be taller? It's only been a few hours since I woke up here and from what Splinter said at that time, I had only been in the lair for a short while."

"I don't know. It's just that you seem as short as you did in the alley." Beth explained. The more she considered that memory the more she was certain of what she knew.

Leo sighed as he thought about her words. Then, he shrugged again as he remarked, "Well, I remember I wasn't walking very well, so it's possible I had slouched a bit. I would think that would give you the impression I was shorter."

Beth nodded and seemed to accept that answer, although she had to admit to liking a taller Leonardo. It made her feel safer, for some reason.

As he led her out of the subway car, she found that she had to take a half step down. Once on the platform of the abandoned station, Leo then allowed Beth to take her time towards the interior of what he had learned earlier was the Lair.

Splinter looked up in that moment and saw the two as they approached the couch. He smiled a little as he said, "I see you have chosen to join us, Beth."

"Yes, Sensei, she has." Leo answered. He noticed a nearby chair and led the girl over to it, inviting her to sit down into it.

As Beth took the proffered seat, Splinter asked her, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful," she replied. Beth then watched as the rat rose from his seat to go into the kitchen, only a few feet away, while Leo seated himself on the couch that was next to her chair.

Over the course of the next hour, Beth learned several things. First, Splinter explained the reason for her injury, which justified why she was currently in their care.

"My sons are usually better with infiltration, though. If they had been more careful, however," he gave a pointed a look towards the kitchen where Mike busied himself with his tasks, "you would still be in your apartment, uninjured, and sleeping. Leonardo would be gone; leaving you believing he had only been a dream." The rat sighed, "I apologize for their lack of care in this matter."

Although Beth nodded acceptance to Splinter's story, she still felt a bit angry. Yet she chose to hold back on her dissatisfaction. Right now, she truly did not know how to react. Part of her was excited to be in such company, while another larger part wanted her life back, dismal as it was.

Before she could ruminate any further on that fact, however, Splinter began to share with her about his and his sons' history. As he spoke, Beth found the story intoxicating. She was enchanted to learn how the turtles and rat had mutated many years before. Equally astounding her, she was amused that they had been living in the sewers of New York City for nearly twenty-one years. The rat briefly explained how the last six years had been the most haggard, where they did frequent battle with a divergent gang of ninja thieves, called the Foot.

Quite surprised by such archaic conflicts, Beth seemed shocked that an activity of this nature would occur in and around her neighborhood, and without any evidence to that fact.

"I would think that someone would at least hear something," she remarked between sips of her tea. Beth found that she rather liked the hot beverage. She had to agree silently to Leo's comment from earlier, that the rat did indeed make a nice batch of it.

What was even more amazing to her was that, the more she conversed with these creatures, the less abnormal they seemed to be.

"I would think the noise, itself, would draw attention to you," the girl remarked. She sat her cup back down on saucer, holding the items in her lap as she conversed with her new friends.

'Hmm…" Splinter replied, "I guess you are not familiar with ninja?"

"Other than what I've seen in movies, no, I guess not." Beth admitted shyly. "Aren't they something like the Samurai?" she then asked. She was rather enjoying the socializing, something that was a rarified occurrence in her life. Other than the grocer, few people ever looked her way or even spoke to her.

"In a way, they are, since both have a high sense of honor," Splinter remarked, "But while they were in power, the Samurai were more obvious with their presence, while the ninja refrained from such attention." He paused for a moment to sip his tea and then resumed his story, "One could hear the Samurai coming for miles; their metal armor and shouts announcing their arrival long before they even reached the edge of a village. In so doing, they would cower and subdue their enemy before even making a strike. No one ever crossed a Samurai and lived to tell about it." Splinter then paused, again, for a moment to assess the girl's reaction. He was pleased to find her more curious, now, than afraid or angry. He had definitely felt her irritation from earlier, when she learned of Mike's remiss in her apartment. Yet, at the same time, he also felt her take control of it, too.

Smiling, he went on to say, "However, with ninja, one never knew they were present until it was too late. Even the Samurai feared them."

"Why would they fear them? I thought nothing intimidated the Samurai?" Beth asked innocently, remembering one movie in particular that she had seen which detailed their history. She noticed that Leo, who was currently sitting on the couch near the rat, seemed almost as transfixed with the explanation as she was.

She remembered, then, about his amnesia. Beth sadly wondered if maybe she was responsible for it by allowing him to fall asleep in her apartment. For a moment, she felt just a bit guilty, believing that she had inadvertently harmed him in that way.

However, her attention diverted back over to Splinter, as the rat went on to explain, "The ninja practiced the art of invisibility, the art of shadow walking, of becoming one with the darkness and using it to execute their missions," he said. Looking over at Don and Leo, who were sitting next to him, and then back to the girl, he remarked, "For example, you will never hear any of my sons' footfalls or their coming and going. It is part of their training and now part of their nature. They cannot help it as they have become one with ninjitsu." He then looked at Leo deliberately and smiled, "Even my son, who does not remember who he is, cannot help but walk silently, as what was proved a moment ago when he led you out from my quarters." The rat smiled as he gazed softly back to the girl once again.

Beth really hadn't noticed, but now – with hearing Splinter's words – she did indeed recall that her footsteps were the only ones that echoed in the lair. Because of Leo's un-shoed feet, the girl only assumed that he walked quietly. Never did she believe it was something that he had to learn to do. The fact that he did so, even with his amnesia, spoke volumes to her about his training.

Just the same, as she looked at her new friend, she saw an equal amount of amazement in his face, as well. He seemed – puzzled for the moment – and a bit reflective. However, Leo remained quiet as his sensei prepared to continue with the rest of his lecture.

Mike had come into the room a moment earlier and was now sitting in one of the other chars, joining the discussion while taking temporary leave from kitchen duty. He and Don seemed to sit a little straighter as their father explained to Beth the history of what they practiced, a distinct pride etched upon their faces.

Splinter took a small breath and continued, "Back in the days of feudal Japan when the Samurai were under the authority of the Shogun, they controlled and protected the Shogun's possessions and property, which included villages and the people who lived there." The rat sighed a bit as he said, "They were often ruthless and without mercy. Many people hated them. One group was the ninja." The rat took a sip of his tea from his cup as he watched the girl. Sensing more curiosity from her than fear, he then continued, "The ninja were a mountain culture who resented such control as the Samurai wielded. Nearly a thousand years ago and in protest, they developed an art form that allowed them to counterbalance the Samurai and infiltrate their compounds unseen. While the Samurai fought in broad daylight and in full view of their enemy, in contrast, the ninja attacked from within shadows and without warning – usually at night. Many Samurai met their death without knowing they were in danger. They feared the ninja only because they could not see them. What they could not see, they could not fight, which caused them to fear; an emotion that they considered dishonorable. A Samurai was supposed to fear nothing – yet the ninja gave them reasons to. It was very humiliating for them to be compromised by those whom they considered to be a coward warrior."

Beth looked over at the other two turtles and swallowed. She remembered the sword that she had picked up in the alley and questioned, even then, if it belonged to the one she had rescued; the one she now saw as her friend. She shrunk back just a little, somewhat impressed - and a little frightened - with what Splinter had shared with her.

It seemed as if these mutants were not as harmless as she once theorized.

Finally, after a brief moment of reflection, Beth asked, "I found a sword in the alley. Did – that belong to Leo?"

Splinter nodded and simply said with his voice soft and non-threatening, "Yes."

This time, Leo looked over at the rat, quite confused. He asked, "If it's mine, then that means I'm – ninja?" Earlier, his sensei had told him only of his relationship to them as well as how they mutated. Leo was surprised to learn that they lived in an abandoned subway station, deep underground in New York City, and that they traveled through the conjoining sewer system to get around town. Yet, during his brief tutorial on what he was to them and where they lived, there wasn't any mention of what they practiced.

"Yes, it does, my son," Splinter admitted, "Yet, your memory has been impaired, so we will not expect you to be as you once were, at least, not until you can recall your previous self."

Nodding and seemingly somewhat relieved, Leo could only remark, "Good." He looked over at the girl and shrugged as he said, "I guess I just learned something, too."

Beth smiled a bit at the irony. She realized the kind soul who had befriended her, who seemed to care about her well-being, had a more dubious nature. If it were not for his amnesia, she wondered how Leo would have treated her otherwise. She knew that many victims of memory impairment often exhibited areas of their personality that lay dormant from either neglect or ignorance. Credit her brief stint as a college law student and friend to a few aspiring doctors. Quite possibly, this Leonardo had the capacity to be what he was to her now. However, maybe his training would have prevented him from expressing this part of his nature. Maybe, he would have behaved differently towards her.

Yet, part of her selfishly hoped he would never regain his memory.

As Beth tried to accept the reality of where she was and with whom, an abrupt noise ripped her attention away from her thoughts. Snapping her head around towards the sound and to her left, she glanced over to the line of four subway cars. Emerging from the farthest one and at the opposite end from where Splinter's car resided, she noticed a large green shape rise from its depths. She watched with great trepidation as the turtle in red stood and stretched a little.

Nevertheless, the instant Raphael saw the girl he ceased his exertion and scowled at her.

Beth shuddered at the sight of the hulking form of a turtle. His very countenance, his swagger, and the dagger-like look he shot in her direction made the girl cringe into the back of her chair. Considering her own personal demons, she couldn't help but cower a little, unsure of the turtle's intent. Beth saw him smirk at her, obviously aware of her insecurities, but it did not cause him to hesitate as he began to march towards the living area.

Yet, she knew one thing was certain; she had insulted him earlier. She knew she had to apologize.

As Raphael made his way towards the kitchen, the girl tried to stand up in order to address him properly. Leo saw Beth's attempt to extricate her chair. Quickly standing, he took her right arm to steady her.

However, Raph was in a foul mood, a very foul mood indeed. He despised anyone assuming that he and his family were stupid animals and the woman had certainly made her opinion quite clear on that. Consequently and as he came up to where she was, he rounded on her, completely ignoring Leonardo and, most especially, the warning glare from his father.

"Look, broad," he hissed menacingly, "just so ya know, we aren't stupid, we aren't dumb animals, and so if ya think ya can insult me again like ya did earlier, ya better think twice 'bout'it, cuz I ain't gonna put up with it if ya do." He then proceeded towards the kitchen, leaving Beth in trembling fear behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Raphael had sufficiently quelled whatever courage she had mustered in an attempt to apologize to him.

Leonardo, however, suddenly riled against the obvious aggressive posturing from his assumed brother. He had sensed a sincere regret in her, yet felt the girl's quaking as Raphael fired off his warning. In that moment, as Raph finished his threat and walked off and towards the other room, Leo became intensely protective of Beth. His own ire rose above his otherwise calm demeanor.

Without hesitating, the turtle in blue stepped away from the girl. Beth was briefly startled with the swiftness of his reaction. Consequently, she stumbled back against the front of the chair, abruptly slumping down into it.

What happened next shocked her with a resounding force.

As Leo reached out like a striking snake and grabbed one of Raphael's arms, he roughly jerked his brother forcibly around. Yet, before Raph or anyone else in his family could react, Leo decked the red-bandanna turtle with a sucker punch.

The force sent the temperamental turtle careening the rest of the way into the kitchen and in the next moment, the lair erupted into a torrent of shouts to 'stand down' and a flurry of angry fists.

Beth, meanwhile, had gone catatonic – again.

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Comments: Ah, poor Beth. Seems these 'cats' won't go away. LOL. Anyway, baby steps to recovery take a bit of time. At least, in the turtle's lair, she is safe – with exception to Raphael. Poor guy; we just have so much fun making him a meanie. But, there are reasons, so don't go hard on him or me for his unusually rude behavior. There are a few more chapters to flesh out that problem. In the meantime, thanks to everyone who reveiwed:0)