Disclaimer – Ah, another chapter for all you Raphael fans. Leo's asleep, what he don't know, won't hurt him – yet. Bwahaha. As before, I don't own anything, other than the obvious.
Thanks to everyone who read and especially to those who left a review. Your kind words amaze me, not that you aren't kind, just after all this time you're still 'along for the ride'. Thankies for your support and encouragement – Jessiey Landroz, Kellie Fay, Ramica, Lunar Ninja, Katana Babe, Reluctant Dragon, Mewfem, Empress Caroline of Tamaran, Leo Oneal, Pacphys, and Kay Lizzie,
In answer to one question as to why I titled this story the way that I did, at the end of the epilogue, I will tag it with a public domain analogy that will explain my train of thought on this matter.
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Chapter 23 – A Late Night Visitor
Beth tossed and turned on the bed. She was quite uncomfortable, where it wasn't her bed to begin with and, more to the point, that it belonged to someone who had recently kissed her.
It had been a very long time since anyone had, and it was quite bemusing to think that someone, such as Leonardo, would be the one responsible for it, too. Just the same, she found it difficult to sleep, to relax. She kept trying to remember how it felt to have him kiss her, his almost lip-less mouth cupping her own in the tender way that he did. She shivered at the memory, especially when he had deepened their embrace. Despite his reptilian skin, Leo's kiss hadn't seemed that different from the last person who had kissed her.
That was seven years ago, after her senior high prom, when her date – Billy Wilcox – had brought her back home after the dance. He had been as inexperienced as she was with dating, both teenagers dubbed late bloomers by their friends. As it was, they had kissed for only a few minutes in front of her house on the wide front stoop, sitting on the porch swing. It was dark, nearly midnight, well before curfew, and both were getting into it rather deeply. That was when Beth's father 'unintentionally' interrupted them.
Beth would never forget that, either. While she and Billy made out, sitting on the swing, he said later that he had felt uneasy. Nevertheless, before the rude interruption, they had sat facing each other, his hands around her shoulders, her hands around his waist. They were a perfect profile of two couples embracing, with the large, darkened plate glass window of the living room as backdrop. Nevertheless, Billy opened one eye to see why he felt so uneasy, sensing someone was watching them. As he looked around and where the window was situated right there behind him, he suddenly discovered a single pair of eyes looking right back at him – Beth's father!
As she lay there in Leo's bed and thought back to that event, she couldn't help but laugh. Beth remembered that Billy tensed, right in the middle of probably the most passionate part of their kissing. She was clueless as to why he would react so, since she had both eyes closed, unaware that her father had been at the window. However, Billy's suddenly start caused the poor boy to nearly leap off the bench where they sat, pushing the swing back abruptly, which unceremoniously dumped Beth onto the wooden front porch – prom dress and all. Of course, they couldn't help but overhear her father's eruption of laughter from inside the house. Where it took him a few minutes to open the front door – showing in contrast a more subdued expression – Beth was certain the delay was due to his need to collect himself.
Nevertheless, it was the last time Billy ever sat with Beth on that porch swing, preferring the privacy of his car in order to kiss her. Sadly, though, when he went out to California that September for college, the distance between them became too much and they eventually drifted apart. Now, as Beth considered that moment and with so much happening to her since, it seemed as if her friendship with Billy Wilcox was a lifetime ago.
Yet, to consider that, now, her heart fluttered for someone so different from her first crush, simply amazed her. Finally, after she had exhausted her memories, Beth's restlessness eased and she was able to drift off to a somewhat more peaceful slumber.
Several hours later, after she had been asleep for a good amount of time, she felt a presence. It was subtle, but enough to cause her to wake up and wonder why she had done so. With her mind muggy from her sudden waking, she squinted in the near blackness, trying to get her bearings. Yes, she remembered, this was Leo's room; she was in his bed, while he slept in Don's room next door, and on a cot that they kept for such occasions – at least, from what Mikey had told her, anyway.
Nevertheless, because of how she felt, Beth knew that she had been asleep for quite a while. Still, a nagging feeling that someone was in her room edged her foggy mind. Then, she wondered; could Leo have slipped out of Don's room, just to visit her? Maybe, that kiss they shared earlier had piqued his curiosity, as it had her own.
Maybe, he wanted one more. That was something that Beth would not mind in the least.
"Leo?" she asked expectant and hopeful.
Despite her experiences and her usual reaction to close contacts, Leonardo, and his family, had slipped into her 'realm of safety', proving that they were people that she could trust. There hadn't been too many of her own species who had earned that right, other than the grocers up the street from where she lived. However, she would never let Mister McHenry kiss her. That distinction put Leo on a completely different level, and one that allowed Beth to wonder if she really was ready to love again.
Still, as she looked and peered into the darkness of the room, that eerie sense of someone 'there' persisted. "Leo?" she called out softly again, now a bit of fear creeping up her spine.
A sudden light knock sounded softly at the door, nearly startling her. Smiling and almost laughing aloud, Beth seemed relieved, letting out a long-held breath. She was confident, now that there hadn't been anyone in her room at all, but it was obvious that someone was standing outside at the bedroom door. She remembered where the lamp was, so she carefully crawled out from under her covers to walk the short distance to the table to switch on the light. Instinctively, she held her side, where the hilt of Leo's sword had penetrated, grimacing somewhat as she moved about. The pain seemed less, though, and, so far, the bleeding had stopped, allowing the wound to begin healing. The expediency of her wound's improvement had amazed her, but Splinter's explanation about his healing tea seemed to explain the matter. Beth had heard of herbal remedies that seem to accelerate such things, but they were merely urban legends to her. Now, looking back to where she first woke up and comparing that to her current physical state, she quickly became a believer in Splinter's tea.
In any event, before she retired to bed, Splinter had given her an oversized shirt to wear as a nightgown, the hem of the shirt stopping halfway between her thighs and her knees. It was a faded sage green, mended in several places, but adequately sufficed as pajamas. Now, with the room softly illuminated, Beth walked over to the door to open it. As she grabbed the handhold and began to slide the door to the right, she smiled. She could easily imagine Leo's sheepish expression and maybe a glint of expectation in his eye. She sighed deeply as she felt her heart stir once more. Yet, there was also a subtle feeling of intrigue, as if this late night tryst was an adventure. It was something that she had not felt in a very long time. Well, at least since that fateful night, when her father spied on her making out with Billy Wilcox on the front porch.
Nevertheless, the moment Beth slid the door open, every pleasant vision she had, dissipated in an instant. There, standing on the other side of the door, was – Raphael.
Keeping her voice low, so as not to wake the others, "What are you doing here?" she asked him, her voice clipped and almost demanding. Beth then felt herself begin to tremble, the confidence she had felt moments earlier chased away by visions of a raging Raphael. Only, as she stared at Raph in apprehension, what she saw contradicted her accepted view of him. Whatever 'rage' he demonstrated hours earlier no longer edged his features.
There, standing before her at the door was a very contrite looking, if not placid, mutant turtle, his red bandanna tied firmly around his head, signifying his identity.
"Hi," he said simply, his voice low and gravelly. Raphael fidgeted a bit and looked around at the other cars in line with the one Beth was in. He seemed nervous, as if any minute someone would catch him in the act of doing something wrong. "Um, I know this is inappropriate and all, but…" he looked again at the other cars, his voice dropping to a bare whisper, "can…I come in; I gotta tell ya somethin'."
Beth then watched as he slipped his bandanna off, anxiously holding it in his hands, while revealing eyes the eyeholes had effectively hidden. Now she saw the earnestness, the sincerity in them that she had failed to notice before, almost reminding her of – Leonardo. That stunned her. With their bandannas on, it was easy to tell who was who, their colors distinguishing them from one another. However, it was different thing all together without them. Except for the individual scars– and she noticed that Raphael had a distinctive one on the lower left side of his face, they would be hard to discern from one another.
Still, the almost pleading expression on Raphael's face appealed to Beth's natural tendency to care. Immediately, she considered closing the door on him, but then had a quick change of heart, as she asked, instead, "If I let you in, do you promise not to yell at me or get mad?" her voice was soft and worrisome.
Raph nodded sheepishly, speaking softly, "Yeah, no worries, ain't gonna rage on ya, just wanna talk, to tell ya somethin' important."
Beth gave him one last long look, and then glanced behind him to see the semi-darkened lair. It was obvious to her that everyone was in bed, even Master Splinter, which meant that if Raph wanted to… No, she chided herself; he wouldn't dare do anything to her, not with his family so close by. If not Leonardo, certainly Mike, Donnie, or even the rat would make Raphael's life miserable if he so much as touch her in an inappropriate way. What little time she had spent in the lair, she had learned that honor and respect were two attributes that her hosts practiced.
Hoping that Raphael somehow espoused the same characteristics, despite how he had behaved before, she nodded and then opened the door wider to allow the turtle inside the room. She was mindful of the fact that she had only the nightshirt on, yet he paid her no mind as he slipped noiselessly into the room. As soon as she closed the door and while Raphael was trying to find a place to sit – other than the bed - the girl grabbed at the comforter from where she had been sleeping. She wrapped it quickly around her like a robe, watching Raph take the one chair the room afforded. Turning quickly around and then plopping himself down, he watched as Beth in turn sat on the edge of the bed to face him.
Beth was perfectly mindful of the still-opened door, making a mental note to toss the comforter at Raph, should he break his promise, and then racing out the room. She knew that Donnie's compartment was right next door, just before the bathroom and infirmary subway car. With Mike's room on the other side of hers, she had two points of safety she could run to, that is if Raph so much as look at her the wrong way.
"So, what do you want to tell me?" she asked him quietly, hugging the comforter close around her.
"Yeah," Raph took a deep breath, "well…about earlier…ya see…I have this problem, a temper, not that you haven't noticed, cuz I'm sure it's no surprise t'ya, but…well…it sort of takes over me an' all," he began, then Raph rolled his eyes at the redundancy. Obviously, he had a temper, why tell the girl when she had first-hand experience seeing him blow up. It seemed ludicrous even to tell her about it. Nevertheless, he composed himself once more, "I was goin' t'wait until mornin', after we all had breakfast, an'after Leo and the others go out on a trainin' run, but – ah – my mind won't shut off and I know if I do it now, I might actually get some sleep t'night." He wiped his mouth nervously, looking at the floor by his feet as if, somehow, he might find a bit more courage there. Finding none available, he looked back up at the girl, "'Sides, I hear ya might be going back home tomorrah, an', well, if I get this outta the way now, we might be able t'have a decent visit before that happens," He then tried to smile. The only problem was that he couldn't. Something else was happening to him and hard as he tried not to, Raphael knew he was losing the battle.
Beth watched with growing intrigue as Raphael sat across from her. She watched his bumptious nature crumble second by second, the fire in his eyes changing from the fierce presence he had impressed upon her since she awakened in the lair, to one of emotional instability. She witnessed the gradual change and decline with calm, though, swallowing back her nervous anxiousness, only to replace it with – pity. First, Raphael's mouth trembled as he tried to regain control, then his eyes filled to overflowing, with one tear dropping quickly down his left cheek. In that moment, Beth knew that Raphael wouldn't hurt her, not tonight, not with what he was obviously going through.
"Ya gotta…" he almost choked out, "promise me somethin', though, b'fore I tell ya anythin'." The trembling in his mouth seemed to have moved down to his hands, each clasping his knees as if he would lose complete control if he didn't.
Beth cautiously asked, the emotional turmoil of the one in front of her griping her heart, "And…that would be?"
Raph's eyes narrowed, almost closing, but not quite. He looked away, swallowed hard yet again, and then looked back at the girl. "Ya don't breathe a word of this…" he rushed, and then suddenly motioned with his hand, gesturing to his face, to indicate the near emotional breakdown he seemed to be experiencing. Glancing away for a moment before looking back at Beth, he sniggered lightly, almost in amusement with hisself, "I gotta rep to uphold, know what I mean? The tough-guy image; if my bros find out I…" he looked at her hard, whispering, his voice almost horsed, "cried, they'd never give me any rest."
Beth shook her head, not believing that the others would be so cruel, and implored, "No, Raphael, I don't think they would …"
He waved his hand as if pushing aside her comment as he almost snapped, "Trust me; they would…partly my fault cuz I sort of…created this persona, this invincibility, this…attitude of mine. No, they'd ride my tail for a good long time, so you hafta promise me ya won't tell."
Realizing that Raphael truly believed every word he told her, Beth nodded, "I promise, Raphael. Cross my heart and hope to…"
"Not if I can help it, lady; I'd protect you with my very life," he stated, recognizing the familiar phrase.
With those words, Raphael seemed to straighten up, he saw the look of surprise on Beth's face, and then he bowed towards her, soon easing off the chair and to the floor. His sudden move caused Beth to scoot back in concern and further onto the bed, but then Raphael stopped advancing the moment he was on his knees. With his head still bowed, he slumped forward a little, placing his hands on the concrete floor in front of his knees. Then he began to utter a long string of words that seemed to tumble out his mouth, but they were in a language that Beth could not understand.
Beth sat there on the bed, with her eyes wide with wonder, as she listened to Raphael speak words that, for the life of her, she hadn't a clue what he was saying. Yet, the tone of his voice was so reverent, contrite, and he sounded so desperate, that she hesitated to interrupt him. She wanted to ask him to translate what he was telling her, but his litany of whatever it was he was saying seemed unbroken, without pause, or hesitation. Consequently, she continued to sit there for a good five minutes, wondering what he was saying, as she listened to Raphael pour his heart out to her.
Then, because of the way he had prostrated himself in front of her, only one thought seemed to occupy Beth's mind, and it almost made her bolt for the door, "Good Lord, I hope he's not proposing."