Well, peoples… Here we go. The confrontation chapter between Donatello and Irma. We shall have to see what new developments appear here.

Special Thanks to Colonel Pop and GoodSmileGirl! Y'all are terrific and I love you to death! Thanks for sticking with me!

Only a few more chapters after this until we're done. Ooooh… So exciting! Sit back and enjoy!

Chapter Twenty

I woke up early the next morning, as the sun was rising. My clothes were strewn about the room, as were Ken's. He was still asleep, lying beside me. I shut my eyes tightly and pulled a pillow over my face. I had spent the night with my arch-enemy in exchange for my boyfriend's safety, and his family's. I had willingly had sex with him, more than once.

The worst part was that it was good. Really good.

As much as it shamed me, Ken was a skilled lover, and although I allowed him into my bed unwillingly, he didn't have any desire to cause me pain or discomfort. He liked giving me pleasure, because he knew that every moan and gasp meant more guilt and self-depreciation on my part. If he had been awful, if he had hurt me, maybe I would have felt better about it, more clean. I would have been able to say completely honestly that I hated every moment and I did it just for my friends, but knowing that I had not only enjoyed it, but encouraged him… that was unforgivable.

There was a rustle beside me, and in the morning shadows I could see Ken roll over to his side and wrap his arm around me, pulling me under him. "Night isn't over until the sun rises," he murmured into my hair, and, mercifully almost, distracted me for the next hour or so and brought about blessed sleep after that.

He was gone when I next awoke. His clothes had been picked up off the floor and the space beside me was empty. I sat up and looked around, straining to hear any sound of another person in my home, but there was none. I looked at the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table next to me. It said 8:49, and beside that was a note. I picked up my glasses and put them on before taking the note and reading it.

I'd never mixed business and pleasure together before, but I have to say you were a most delightful exception. You kept up your end of the bargain wholly and completely, and I'm more than happy to uphold mine. Your little green friends will be left alone. I'll have to find something else to blackmail you with you get you back in bed with me next time.

Until then,

Ken

I slammed the note back onto my bedside table, pulled my glasses off and tossed them to the side, and rolled up into my bed, crying my heart out.

April came to my apartment about half an hour after that. I was still in bed with no clothes, but I had my sheets pulled up enough for modesty's sake. She had a spare key and opened the door to my apartment calling out my name worriedly. I didn't answer her, but she could hear my weeping and rushed into my room to find me in my pitiful state.

"Oh, Irma," she said softly, and she sat on the edge of my bed and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Irma, I… I… I don't know what to say that could make this better."

I didn't respond and kept sniffling. April reached over and picked up the note that Ken had left. Casey came in while she was reading, and rushed into the room.

"Irms," he said, "Irms, you alright? You okay?"

I rolled over in response, my shoulders shaking. I heard April take a sharp breath and Casey say, "Gimme that." There was nothing for a minute, and then he swore. "Fucking asshole," he snarled.

April continued to rub my shoulders comfortingly while Casey proceeded to walk around my bedroom swearing and promising numerous tortures on Ken should he find him. He then went into my living room to see if he had left anything else, but I think it was more so that he wouldn't destroy something in front of me.

"Irma," April said softly, and then hesitated before trying again. "Did he… did he hurt you badly?"

"No," I responded dully. "He was fantastic."

No response for a minute. "Fantastic?"

"Yep," I replied. "One of the best I've ever had. It was the worst night of my life."

"Casey, take every bottle of alcohol in this apartment and throw it away!" April shouted at her boyfriend, who was prowling the kitchen. Then she turned back to me. "Irma, why did you do it? You can't be sure he'll keep his word, and none of the guys wanted you to."

"Which one of them called you?" I asked.

She hesitated briefly. "It was Leo," she finally admitted. "He called me up and explained the situation this morning."

"Irms, can you, y'know, put some clothes on so I can talk with you guys?" Casey said from the living room.

A few minutes later, the three of us were sitting on my couch and armchair, and I was cradling a cup of coffee in my hands, watching the steam rise from the cup in swirls.

"He didn't hurt me," I said again. "He was… very considerate."

"That's something, I guess," April said.

"It could be worse," Casey imputed helpfully. "I mean, I know this ain't the, uh, best of circumstances, but it could have been real bad."

"I don't even want to know what the guys think of me now," I said miserably, and took a swig of my coffee. It was woefully lacking in vodka.

"They're just worried. You should go see them, let them know you're okay." April watched me with concerned eyes.

"They were really freaked out," Casey joined in softly. "They'd really appreciate it."

With a nod, I agreed to go with them to see the turtles and Master Splinter. I felt sick, like any second I was going to throw up everywhere. The thought of seeing Donatello after what had happened that night… it made me physically ill. But it had to be done. I had to talk to him, to explain why I had done it, to tell him it meant nothing to me and I had done it only to save him because I… because I…

Immediately clamping down on my emotions, I finished off my coffee and took the mug to the kitchen sink. I would admit nothing, would not allow myself to admit anything. It was too dangerous and painful, too risky.

The three of us headed out shortly afterwards, walking a few blocks before ducking into an alleyway and crawling into the sewers. It took us only a few seconds to orient ourselves in the labyrinth of tunnels, and we headed on our way. None of us said anything, except to give the occasional warning to watch our steps or to say if something was slippery. In my mind, I was reciting the things I would say to everything I could imagine the boys saying to me. It was all bad things.

Finally, we found ourselves in front of the entrance to the Lair. I froze, staring at the familiar markings on the wall, noting the way the light from the lamps in the next room played along under the door that was so carefully concealed from the outside world. Would I be welcome, I wondered, after what had just occurred? Would this be my last time to set foot in there? Would I be rejected, treated as a pariah, like Hester Prynne from The Scarlet Letter?

Sensing my hesitation, April held her hand out to me, a soft smile on her face and reassuring affection in her eyes. I did my best to muster up a grin for her, and placed my hand in hers. She gave my fingers a squeeze and then pulled me through the door that Casey held open for us both. We dropped each other's hands as we stepped into the light, and I looked around the gigantic main room of the Lair, trying to memorize how it looked in case I never saw it again. April and Casey stepped further into the Lair, towards the sound of footsteps coming into the room. I hung back as Michelangelo came out and greeted his two friends, giving April a hug and thumping Casey on the shoulder. I bit my lip and stared at my feet before I heard him gasp out "Irma!"

The next thing I knew, his arms were wrapped tightly around me, my chest pressed almost painfully into his plastron. I stood there in complete shock for a second, and then wrapped my own arms around him as tightly as I could, pressing my face into his shoulder, doing my best to keep the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from leaking out. We pulled back momentarily and he tilted my face up to him, a sweet smile on his face. "You okay, Irms?" he asked me softly, eyes moving over my face for any sign of abuse.

I gave him what I hoped was a cocky grin. "I'm fine, Mikey. Really." He didn't look as though he quite believed me. "Please believe me," I told him. "Ken didn't do any permanent damage to me." I hope.

"Okay," he said finally, doubt still in his voice. He didn't push though. "You should probably talk to the others. They were really worried too. Specially Don."

"Yeah." I steeled myself for what was ahead. "Do you know where they are?"

"Leo's in the training room, Raph's in his room, Don's in the lab, Master Splinter's in his room too." He looked apologetic. "We… told him what happened. We just came in looking so upset and… well… he was worried and-"

I placed my hand on his arm. "It's okay, Mike. Don't worry about it. I'm gonna go talk to everyone, kay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'll just… talk to the guys." He gestured over to April and Casey, and I nodded before walking in the direction of Leo. I figured he was usually the calmest; hoping for the best, for a welcome like Michelangelo's, I slowly pushed open the door to the training room. Leonardo was sitting in the middle of the room, facing away from me, his body in his mediation pose. I closed the door behind me and waited. When he made no movement towards me, I walked over to him and lightly tapped my fingers against the back of his shell. He spun around, eyes widening when he saw me standing there, and instantly jumped up.

"Irma! You're here! Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Did he… did…" he couldn't finish his sentence and just swallowed, not being able to say what he wanted to for fear of hurting me further. I patted his arm.

"I'll survive, Leo. He didn't hurt me." Physically, at least.

"Irma, I… Thank you."

I blinked. "What for?"

He placed a hand gently on my shoulder. "For what you did. I didn't, I don't, agree with it, but I know you did what you felt you had to. I know you did it to protect us. That means a great deal to my brothers and I. It means… It just means a lot to us."

There was really nothing that I could say to that. I swallowed and looked down. "I know you don't approve," I said, "but thanks."

He gave me a hug. "You're certain you're alright?"

"No," I told him. "Not now. Maybe not for a while. But I'll get better. I've been through worse."

"I don't think that's necessarily a good thing."

"In this case, maybe it is." I gave him another hug and then went to see Raph.

I know I said I went to see Raph, but what really happened was I stood outside the door to his room/boxcar for about ten minutes, trying to work up the courage to go in there. Heavy metal music was pouring from the door, a sure sign that I had learned meant he was very, very unhappy. Needless to say, I was terrified.

"Okay, Irma," I said to myself, "just get psyched. Just say 'Hey, Raph.' Just do it." Then I made a face. "Actually that sounds stupid." I turned my back to the door and took a deep breath. "I'll just go up to the door and knock. I'll just knock, and when he opens it I'll say… I'll just… I'll just say…"

"You'll say what?" The thick Brooklyn accent came from behind me, the words thick with a deep anger than never seemed to leave his voice. I cringed and slowly turned around, wincing as though bracing myself for a blow. Raphael was framed in his doorway, his considerable bulk of muscle and shell accentuated by the light he was blocking. It made him look menacing, and the expression on his face wasn't any better. "You'll say what, Irma?" he snarled at me again.

"Uh… H… H… Hi," I managed to choke out.

Suddenly I was slammed against the side of the boxcar, my arms trapped in a painfully tight grip, Raph's face just bare inches away from mine. His expression was… indefinable. It was a plethora of emotions, rage, fury, sorrow, guilt, and others that I couldn't properly define.

"Hi?" he spat at me. "That's it? That's all you can say? You let a guy blackmail you into sex and you just say hi?"

A stirring of anger came into the mix of my misery. "What do you want me to say, Raph?" I snapped at him. "That it was degrading? That I felt awful about it? That the fact that he made it pleasurable and got me to the point where I was begging for him makes me sick just thinking about it? Well, it does. There, are you happy?"

He pulled a fist back from my arm and punched the metal next to my head. My eyes widened and I shrunk back against the boxcar. For some reason my sudden fear of him caused him to reel back like I had struck him, and the resentment he had seemed to feel faded away to be replaced by a look of sheer self-deprecation. "Why?"

I blinked, surprised at his sudden change in demeanor. "Why what?"

"Why'd you do it, Irma?" he whispered. "I coulda handled bein' shot at, being hurt, and maybe I'll go ta hell for saying this, but I coulda managed to handle you bein' attacked. But you just… you just gave in."

"What do you want me to say? That I regret it?"

He shook his head, not looking me in the eye. "I couldn't protect you. I couldn't… no, I didn't protect you. An' that makes it even worse. I just… I…" I leaned forwards towards him slightly, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him, to show him that I really was going to be fine. He moved so quickly then; his hands went back to either side of my head and he was leaning into me and then he was kissing me.

It was a fierce kiss, almost overpowering, a desperate, silent demand of something that he didn't fully understand. I was too shocked to pull away or push him back. I couldn't respond to him; I didn't even really try. I didn't try to fight him, just waited for him to pull away, and he did after a few seconds to stare at my expression for some sign of what I was feeling. Whatever it was didn't satisfy him because he gave a bitter laugh and stood back, rubbing a hand over his face. "God fucking damn it," he said with a hollow chuckle. "Damn it all to hell." He swung around to me. "Go ahead, say somthin'. Tell me I was out of line. I know I was. Couldn't help it. Been wantin' to do that for… god, don't even know how long."

"Why," I stopped and cleared my throat. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Could tell you weren't interested in me that way. You an' Don were… I could tell I didn't have a shot."

"How could you tell that?"

He gave a small grin. "I act all badass but I notice things like that. He was crazy about you. Still is." He voice grew softer and he looked at the floor again. "I didn't wanna… didn't wanna come between that. The guy needs some happiness."

"Oh, Raph," I said, placing my hand on his arm. "You deserve it too, you know you do."

"Yeah," he replied. "But I wanted it with you, an' you never really looked at me like that. Aw, don't get all weepy on me," he said, referring to the small tear I had just brushed away from my eye. "I want you happy, Irms, no matter who you're with." Reaching over, he took my hand in his. "I couldn't stand you just lettin' that rat bastard get away with what he did, but I knew I couldn't do anything either. It was just a fucked up situation."

"Yeah," I grinned a little. "Yeah, it really was."

"I'll kill him, Irma." Raphael's face became dead serious, and a gleam came back into his eyes, the kind that a hunter gets when he sees a target within his range. "If Donny doesn't get him first, if he doesn't kill him, I'll go after him and I will. I'll kill him for doing what he did to you, for makin' you do that with him. An' don't worry," he said. "I know I don't do nothin' for you, and I'm not mad at you for that. I ain't everyone's cup a' sunshine."

"Oh, Raphael," I said softly. "I think you're wonderful. And I do love you, very much, just not in that way."

"Yeah. I know. 's not for me. But," he told me, "if Don ever hurts you, I'll kick his ass to Mexico."

"What if I hurt him?" I asked.

He gave me a long, even look. For once, I didn't shrink away from the gaze of one of the ninjas, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Finally he said "Go talk to him, Irms. You guys need to get things right."

I nodded. I was about to walk away, but I wrapped my arms around Raph's back, knowing that he didn't return my hug because it was too hard for him to do so. "You're going to get a girl, Raph, and she's going to make you forget all about me because she'll be perfect."

"Hope not," he said quietly. "That'd be freakin' boring."

I said nothing back, just turned and walked back through the passageway towards Don's lab.

Master Splinter was waiting for me at the end of the hallway. "Irma."

"Master Splinter."

"My sons tell me you made a difficult decision last night."

He was questioning me without words, testing me without a real challenge presented. He wanted to know why I did it. I didn't shy away from him, and held his gaze with my own. It was ten times more intimidating than Raphael could ever hope to be. Only Leo could be as good as him, and he still needed a good ten years. I was not hesitant in my response. "I told you, Master Splinter, that I would do anything to keep him safe."

"Indeed you did." He sighed tiredly. "I am grateful for your sacrifice, my dear, but beware the consequences of your actions."

"I'll deal with it," I told him gently. "I'm prepared."

"Are you?" he asked me. "We shall see." But he stepped aside so I could pass. "My son will not seek you out. He can be more stubborn than all his brothers at the same time when he wishes." He didn't have to say who he was talking about. I already knew.

"Thank you, Master Splinter." I began to walk past him when he stopped me by calling my name.

"Irma, no matter what happens, you will always be welcome here."

There was nothing I could say to this, except what I did. "Thank you, Master Splinter. Thank you very much."

The elderly wise man smiled gently at me. "Go on, child. Words that are kept bottled up will turn to poison if left unsaid for too long."

"Yes, sir." And with that, I went forward to find the person that, until that moment, I had been afraid of finding. Now I wanted, no, needed to talk to him, to try to see if the damage was irreparable or if we could move past it, if it could be worked out. Although I was trying to steel myself for all possibilities, I felt like my heart was on the edge of a precipice, and what would occur in the next few minutes would determine whether or not it would jump.

I found him in his lab, just as Michelangelo had said I would, typing away on his computer. He had to have known I was there. He was aware of everything that happened in that room. Before, when I had come down into the Lair, I would walk up behind him, interrupt his work and make him pay attention to me, rather like a cat when it jumps up on a person's newspaper while it's being read. This time, though, I simply stood a few feet back from the chair he sat in and waited until he stopped or paused. He didn't though, not for a few minutes until I said firmly "Donatello Hamato, I am not leaving until we talk."

His fingers didn't stop their movement for even half a second. "Talk about what?" he asked without looking at me.

"About what happened last night, Don. We need to talk about it."

"I don't think there's anything to talk about. You made a choice that I adamantly disagreed with and subsequently caused me a great amount of emotional distress."

"I know I did, Don," I said quietly. "And I'm sorry."

"You know what I don't get?" He twirled around in his seat and I saw the angry set of his jaw, the unforgiving expression of his features. "What I don't get is how you can just walk in here and talk like I'm throwing a fit about you fucking a guy who threatened your life twice."

My jaw dropped in shock. I had never heard him use that language in the entire time I had ever known him, and he had certainly never addressed me with such cold fury before. "Excuse me? Talk to you like you're throwing a fit? I just want to talk to you."

"Alright. Talk to me. Talk to me about what you did." His voice took on a cold, mocking tone. "Did you have fun? Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Donatello!"

"I bet you did. I bet you had a great time, and you didn't think about me once."

"That's not true! What's wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with me," he said loudly, standing up, "is that my girlfriend willingly had sex with a man who blackmailed us."

"I didn't willingly have sex with him!" I said angrily. "I did it to save you!"

"So he raped you? You didn't encourage him at all? Tell me you didn't." Donatello came and stood directly in front of me, and there was more than anger. There was a deep hurt, a look of betrayal and heartache. "Tell me you didn't, Irma," he said, and his voice was pleading now. "Please, tell me you didn't. Tell me you knocked him unconscious and tossed him out the window. Tell me you hated every second of it. Tell me you… I…" He stopped and I saw his shoulders shaking.

"Don!" I reached out to him, to wrap my arms around him, but he pulled away, holding a hand up as if to ward me off. "Don, please!"

"How could you do that, Irma?" he cried out. "You just kicked us out and went with him like it was nothing to you!"

"It wasn't 'nothing'!" I shouted. "It was awful! I hated myself for doing it, but it was the only way to save you, to save all of you!"

"How do you know that?! He could have been lying!"

"But what if he wasn't?! How could we take that chance?"

"WE didn't take that chance! YOU decided to take matters into your own hands, probably literally!"

"I am not a ninja, Donatello Hamato," I spat at him. "I'm not a warrior or a brilliant tactician, but I know when to admit defeat."

"How do you go from admitting defeat to having SEX?! You just let him use you!"

"Why are you acting like this?!" I shouted at him. "I did it to save you!"

"You slept with him!"

"It's all I could do!"

"You were his whore!"

I didn't know that my hand was sailing towards his face until I heard the SLAP of my palm against his skin. We both stood there in silence for a few seconds as the red handprint began to glow on his cheek. I spoke first, in a fierce whisper, my anger evident on my face.

"I did what I had to, and I would do it again. I saved you, and your brothers and your father, and I don't regret it. I care too much about you to risk losing you like that."

He stared at me and then spoke as furiously as I had. "You allowed yourself to be used like a common prostitute. You say you have no skills, but that's not true, and you didn't even try to find another way. You keep limiting yourself to where you think all you're good at is sex, and that's a lie and you know it, but if you see yourself as a whore, that's all anyone else is going to see you as too. And right now, you're living up to it pretty well."

I didn't bother slapping him this time. I flew at his face screaming, feeling like he had just sucker punched me in the gut. I don't know what I was saying to him, but one second I was going for his eyes, and the next, I found myself shoved up against the wall for the second time that day. Donatello held me there with one arm, an astonished look on his face, as though he hadn't thought that I would go after him for saying that about me. I noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that I had managed to rake my nails across the side of his face that I hadn't slapped, so he now sported a large red mark on one side that I knew would turn into a bruise, and several scratches on the other.

"Let me go," I said, keeping my voice in a dead calm.

"You'll come at me again."

"I won't. Let me go."

He hesitated, but then pulled back, keeping an eye on me as he did so. I took a moment to straighten myself up and then turned to leave. "Where're you going?" he asked.

"I'm leaving, since that's what you seem to want anyway."

"That's not what I said."

"That's what you meant."

"No it isn't!" he argued. "I never said to leave, I said-"

I swung around and looked him full in the face. "Look me in the eye, right now, and tell me with complete honesty that you want me to stay, that you don't want me to go, that last night will have no impact on your long term feelings for me because you care enough to try to work around it, because I am still the same to you."

Donatello opened his mouth as though to say something, but nothing came out. He closed it after a moment and looked as though he was struggling to come up with the words that I knew he wouldn't say.

"I thought so," I said. "I'm not Irma Langinstein to you anymore. Now, to you, I'm just Ken's Whore." I walked away from him, down the hall, calling back "Goodbye, Donatello," as I went. I didn't cry as I left the Lair. I wished Michelangelo a good day and told him that they were still welcome to come and visit whenever they liked and I told April and Casey I'd call them sometime. I didn't answer any of the questions they had for me as I left, and simply walked through the sewers and back to my apartment. I locked all the doors and all the windows, drawing the blinds and curtains, and then stood at the door to my bedroom for a very long time, staring at the mattress where I had slept with Donatello and allowed Ken to use me. I could set it on fire, but then I'd have to buy a new mattress, which I didn't have the money for. I could sleep on the sofa, but then I'd get into the habit of that, and I was going to have to sell it soon. Finally, I went to the bed, pulled the sheets off, and, with no small effort on my part, flipped the mattress over and laid down on the 'clean' side.

I don't remember crying, nor do I remember getting a bottle of bourbon that Casey had missed from my cabinets. But the next morning, I had tear marks all across my cheeks and a half-empty bottle of booze next to my bed, along with a picture of myself that I had ripped into tiny pieces.

Well, there you have it. It's really starting to wind down now. I know this chapter is super depressing and stuff, but I promise things will get better… Um… kind of.

In any case, I hope I wrote this chapter well enough to convey the feelings and emotions in there. I know the Raph/Irma thing is something of a weird concept for some, but if I decide to do a sequel, it'll definitely come into play there. Also, I thought Raph probably really would like Irma. She argues with him, has spunk, and likes to use guns. What's not to love?

I really appreciate everyone's comments and reviews, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter enough to leave me a few more! Thanks very much in advance for the support and encouragement.