Z30

Zoe

The dreams had grown vivid, beginning with the threadbare fabric in my hand, then to a larger green hand reaching for mine. With them came this pull. Since I'd heard his voice, it all started to move, like a car without a driver. The hand turned into piercing green, inhuman, eyes. Beautiful peridot green gems, like green glass, eyes I didn't want to look away from. Eyes that were open, and deep and searching. His voice was like an echo, the sound, something significant that I could feel, and held onto. The fabric, the voice, the eyes, they turned into a moment, one I'd be hard pressed to speak out loud. Because it was passionate. Intimate. My cheeks flamed just thinking about it. Gradually these things, the acceptance of what little I knew about myself, about Ansgar, the things people said; the way they carefully phrased them, it didn't surprise me that the being they said loves me, wasn't human. And I made peace with that, because even if I didn't know who he was, or what he was, it felt closer to what I was searching for.

I stared out the windows at night wondering if he was watching, because he had been the night I walked home. It made more sense now; that he didn't just rush back into my life, if he wasn't human. He probably didn't want to scare me.

It was just hours ago when it happened. I was looking out the window, staring at the sky, pondering the city skyline, the lights, the cars, the people, when the feeling in my heart grew to a horrible ache. It was a burning, throbbing pain that pulled at my chest as if a fist had grabbed the stupid muscle beating within me and pulled it slowly toward the rooftop diagonal to mine. So I thought what the hell, and I followed it.

And I found him.

I found him. I felt it in every cell in my being, with my every frozen breath, with the thrum of warm blood to my frostbitten fingers; with the mad beating in the center of my chest. It was him. And he was magnificent. All muscle, a shell, padding, mask, a strange jacket that seemed out of place, a cap pulled down where a red scrap of fabric peeked just below; the tails of it draped over one shoulder. For the size of him I'd not expected him to be so nervous. When I wanted to play with his weapon he let me, when I wanted to touch him he agreed, when I reached for him he held me and when I kissed him I felt it, it was him. He was what was missing. But even if I felt it I could not just assume it and I still couldn't remember it. But this, him, he was right. So I invited him home.

And here we were, sitting across the kitchen table with coffee mugs in our hands, in the nightlight lit, tiny space that thrust the size of him in my face. I soaked up every bit of him as his gaze shifted from me to his empty cup, to me again. We sat in silence much of the time so far. I'd offered him drinks, he'd accepted, refused, accepted. He did not leave but he wasn't offering much up to me either. I felt this ache in the back of my head like a picture, an image was trying to push its way through, but there was something holding the door shut. And it hurt. I rubbed my face for the tenth time and he finally said something.

"You, uh, want me to get you something for your head?" He scoots back the chair, fluidly lifting his massive frame and moves gracefully for a creature of his size, to the cabinet by the fridge. He pulls out a pill bottle, brings me two ibuprofen.

"How do you know where we keep them?" I ask, accepting them.

He stares at me, wide eyed and rigid.

Then it occurs to me, he's been here before. I'm ignorant of my own life. My own life. My face crumbles, "I don't know who I am and everyone around me, they know me. I don't even know who has been in my home. And this," I wave my hands at the walls, scoot my chair back, "it's not right, this doesn't feel like home." I thrust my hand at him, and he doesn't move, doesn't flinch, "and you," damned tears wet my eyes, blur my vision, "you're right, I know you're right, but so very little else is, and I don't even, I don't know you're name... but I'm close," I smack my hand upside my head. "I don't know what to do. No one will tell me anything. Just tell me, take me home, show me where I belong, immerse me in it, please. Please! I won't stop looking. I can't stop. I'm close, I'm- I'm- Please? Show me who I am and what the hell it has to do with you!"

I swipe away my tears, sniffle, and even though I see April and Karai standing wide-eyed and open mouthed in the kitchen entry I can't stop myself from thrusting my face in his, even hear myself make that damned growling sound again, "Fucking tell me. Who I am and don't leave out a damned thing."

He doesn't look away, still as a statue, but something flickers in his eyes, like green flames and I feel it somewhere within me; and it provokes me even more.

Then Karai's voice pierces the air between us, "Take her home, Raphael."

Raphael? His name! Raphael? An image flickers through my brain, his face in mine, me thrusting mine back at him.

You're pissing me off.

I blink, reel and swipe at him, "You could've fucking at least told me your damn name!" My hand never meets his cheek. He snatches it from the air and holds gently in his thick green fingers, his skin like cool leather, callused and rough yet… familiar.

He doesn't look away, "April, call Donnie. You know what to tell him. I'm taking this little Spitfire for a ride. Take care of Drea'. We'll be back when we've worked it out, one way or the other."

He stands up and leads me to my room, and I vaguely hear April's dazed confirmation, "Okay, Raph."

"Get dressed, warm. We're going for a ride."

I cross my arms and glare at him, "No. I'm not going anywhere with you until you answer my questions."

The corners of his mouth quirk upward into a grin that drives a heat between my legs and I blush. His grin widens and I realize he not only knows why I'm blushing but exactly what he's doing to me. I blush even more. He leans over, looks me in the eye, "You want answers, you want to know everything about you, and me, get dressed. Something. Warm. Now."

My jaw shifts and I stare at him. "Tell me one thing, and I'll go with you."

"What?" he asks crossing his hulking arms.

"Are you the baby girl's father?"

He scoffs, and I want to hit him. Then he leans over again, his lips brushing my ear, "Zoe, we have five kids together."

My heart is hammering in my chest and I don't know if it's because he's provoking an unsurpassable lust within me or because I'm pretty sure he said five. Five. Kids. "Ffffive?"

He nods, "Five of the most incredible beings I've ever known, and we made'em. Now get dressed. Something-"

"Warm," I nod dazedly.

Five. Isn't that a lot? And why haven't I met the other four? I pull on a pair of yoga pants, almost falling over as I try to get the leg over my cast. I leave my red t-shirt on and pull a jacket from the closet. I tug a sock on my one free foot and a sneaker.

He eyes my cast, "When's that supposed ta' come off?"

"This Wednesday. Why?"

"Nah, we're taking it off tonight." He motions his head toward the window, "Donnie'll get it off."

"Donnie?" I follow him through the window onto the fire escape, permit him to scoop me up and seconds later find myself above a manhole cover in the alley below. All the while I'm still trying to process five children I don't remember giving life to.

"Donatello is my brother, and one of your best friends. I gotta tell you it feels really weird to tell you who you are." He lifts the manhole cover and I flinch. He smiles, "Want me to carry you?"

"I'm sorry, where?"

"To one of our two homes. We won't stay there, I just, that" he points to my cast, "It needs to come off, if we're going to do this my way."

"You're way?"

He seems to be gaining some confidence in his idea, "Yeah. You don't think all that different than me, and you already don't know who you are. If you're not scared of me, well then we got nothing to lose." He leans forward, flashing me a face that should terrify me but I find myself blinking at him as if he were behaving like an ass.

"What are you doing?" Is he- My hands ball into fists and my breath comes in shorter puffs. Is he trying to provoke me? As I step toward him he laughs and scoops me up.

"Hell Zoe, even if you don't remember who you are, it doesn't seem like you've changed."

He doesn't speak again until he pulls on a brick and the wall slides back like a pocket door. "The babies are sleeping, so uh, we'll just get that cast off and be out."

As I look around the high ceilings, the arches, the concrete below my feet; my eyes pause over the furnishings, humble and worn, yet… right. This was right. I close my eyes and feel something reaching for me.

"Hi Zoe," I hear a gentle voice call to me and open my eyes to a taller, leaner version of Raphael. His eyes are a warm golden amber and his mouth curls into a welcoming smile. "I've missed you." The purple masked terrapin blinks, then motions to my cast, "Want me to get that off, so you can uh- do whatever it is that you and Raph are doing?"

I swallow and my voice comes out with a rush of emotion and I wonder where it came from, because somewhere inside me wants to embrace him too. What is this damned feeling? Why do I ache to hold strangers? Inhuman strangers at that! "Hhhe, Rrraph says, Im sorry- He says it- Yes, please."

He steps back and motions a hand toward the hall just past the kitchen, "This way."

Raph and… "What did you say your name is?"

"Donatello. You call me Don or Donnie. And I didn't say. But that's just a technicality." He motions me toward a door, "In here."

Raph follows me inside the small medically equipped room. I permit Donatello to saw off the cast, knowing full well he could take off my foot with a slip. Yet he is calm and efficient. As the plaster falls away he glances at me, "May I?"

I shrug, "Knock yourself out."

He examines my foot, encourages me to move it and make circles. Then he nods to Raph, "It may be weak until she starts using it but it she's good to go."

Raph glances at me, "Sparring?"

Donatello shrugs, "Use good judgment with her. But," he puts a hand on Raph's shoulder and his brother seems surprised by the gesture, "You always have Raph. You've always put her before you. Do what you think, what you feel is right and it will be okay. No matter what." Then he looks at me, "And Zoe, I sure hope I get to hug you again someday. Take care, Little Sister."

I stare at him. He's like another piece of a puzzle with the pieces mostly turned face down, one by one flipping over, revealing themselves to me. An image surfaces. I was rolling around in a chair and Donatello was looking at me with an amused expression on his face.

Sometimes you act like Mikey.

"Who's Mikey?" I blurt out.

The two brothers look at each other.

"Oh can I please? Please? Please? She asked about me? Please? Please? Let me in? Please?"

"For crying out loud Mike, shut it!" Raph snaps at the doorway. He curses under his breath and mutters, "Another brother. Come on Mike."

A smaller, but just as muscle bound terrapin bounds in the room, his blue eyes bright and captivating, his smile infectious. I feel a tickle rise in my belly and a laugh flitter by my smiling lips, "Well aren't you just all kinds of sunshine?"

Donnie laughs, Raphael rolls his eyes, but Michelangelo remains unfazed, even manages to settle himself and school his face into something serious but still inviting. "You are my best friend in the world Zoe, you helped me find love, save my sons life," Tears fill his breathtaking eyes and I find them pooling in my own, desperate to remember what he's telling me, knowing without a doubt that with that kind of sincerity it must be true. "I love you Zoe. Always and forever will. No matter what you decide." He opens his arms, "Can I please, just in case?"

The lump in my throat is great, the tears slipping away wretched, but I'm not afraid and I want to soothe his hurt and if this is all I can give him then I will do it. I reach for the orange clad turtle and return his warm embrace. The scent of pizza drifts up from his skin, and the image of a campfire and marshmallows came to mind.

Do you think there's someone out there for me?

"Come on already, the sun will be up before we get there and that just makes everything hell." Raph complains.

"Well aren't you gonna let her see Splinter and Leo?" Mikey whines, reluctantly releasing me.

"Not now. If we stay here too long we risk Anton waking up and I just- I just want to try this- see if it works before I go trying to explain this to him. Besides," he holds his hand out to me, "in the end the decision is yours."

"What decision?" I ask, placing my hand in his.

He gazes down at me with a mix of pain and love in his eyes, "To go or stay."