Chapter 5 -Imprisonment-
Leonardo was not taking his forced imprisonment well. Even the normally unquenchable Michelangelo had started avoiding him. When he wasn't meditating in his room, Leonardo was prowling around the Lair, scowling, or sitting on the couch, glaring at the television as if it were the Shredder in disguise. Every so often he would rub his hand over the spot where the Foot's flying kick had connected with his plastron. The thin crack was sealing nicely under Donatello's watchful care, but it took time. Too much time. Sitting on my shell… Leonardo thought bitterly. While the Foot roam the city, terrorizing innocent people.
Raphael was unusually quiet. He stayed in his room for the most part, avoiding Leonardo whenever he could. He was simmering with a mixture of smugness, anger, and guilt. He knew full well it was his fault Leonardo was injured and confined to the Lair. Leonardo's apology had only served to make him feel worse. His older brother had once again stolen the high road, and left Raphael feeling about six inches tall.
"I'm sorry, Raph. I shouldn't have held back. You're my brother, and I should've covered you better." The older turtle had looked Raphael squarely in the eye while he delivered the apology, denying any hint of sarcasm or irony.
"You didn't do nuthin' wrong Leo. I was doin' ok."
"No, Raphael, I mean it. I shouldn't have held back. We're a team. We're family. I should've backed you up."
"I don't need you to cover my shell, Leo. Don't worry about it," Raphael had snapped. He hated it when Leonardo got all noble.
Leonardo had turned on his heal and walked away, denying Raphael even the satisfaction of an argument. Raphael stood, steaming, as the bamboo screen across Leonardo's door slid shut. With a growl, he stalked off to the dojo, to take out his frustration on the sand-filled punching bag.
***
Sylvia stood up, stretching. It was evening now. Even though the small lamp she'd managed to rig up gave them their only light in the otherwise pitch-black tunnel, she knew what time it was by the ebb and flow of activity through the subway station a few blocks from her hiding place. The small den was beginning to feel more like home.
Oh, Mom, what would you think, if you could see me now? The thought brought a bitter half-smile to Sylvia's face. You thought I'd be a singer, make it big on Broadway, rub shoulders with the best people… What would you say if you could see your baby girl now, living in a sewer tunnel with a ragamuffin boy for a companion? And Daddy… Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry. Tears filled her eyes, and she pushed away the image of her father's face. Her father had been so disappointed when she left for New York. He'd wanted her to go to engineering school, to use the "brilliant mind" nature endowed her with.
Well, I'm using it now, Dad, she thought, adjusting the valve on her make-shift water-pipe heating system.
She'd cobbled it together using parts from an old water heater she'd found, and lengths of copper pipe. The actual burner was set up outside the tunnel, carefully hidden in a crack in the wall. Enough fresh air flowed into the tunnel to provide ventilation. The burner heated the water in the copper pipes, which in turn was pumped through a simple looped system. It snaked along the tunnel roof and into the den, blending perfectly with the myriad of the city-installed pipes and wires.
It was a good system, except when something went wrong, like the pump breaking down or the valve sticking. She needed tools. And she needed one tool in particular, a small, specialized wrench for making tiny adjustments to the pump. It wasn't something any of the local mom-and-pop type hardware stores carried. The only way to get a hold of one was to order it from the internet… Or steal one from a certain turtle's workshop.
***
"Raphael, focus," Splinter snapped. Raphael circled Donatello. Don saw rage flame up in Raphael's eyes, and nearly took a step back. Fortunately he saw the punch coming, and ducked, parrying with his bo. Raphael pulled back stinging fingers, a growl coming from deep in his throat.
"Sorry, Raph," said Don lightly, but he circled warily, watching for his brother's next onslaught. He feinted, distracting Raphael's attention, and swung the bo, trying to hook Raph's leg and bring him down. The red-masked turtle was big, but he was as quick on his feet as any ninja. He dodged Don's swipe, and swung around with an answering kick while the bo was at an awkward angle for defense.
Don grunted as Raph's foot connected with his plastron, driving out his breath. He fell back a step, at once absorbing and deflecting the blow, so that most of the force was spent as Raph's foot slid along the smooth plates of the front of his shell.
"Nice block, Donny," crowed Michelangelo, practicing his katas to one side. Raphael landed neatly and swung around to face Donatello, who now had his bo up and ready for defense. Raphael scowled his fury flaring.
"That will do, Raphael," said Splinter quietly, indicating the end of their sparring match. "You both did well. Donatello, your calm in battle serves you well. Raphael, your strength and courage are admirable qualities. When you keep your temper, you fight well and bring honor to your training, and to your family."
"Hai, Sensei."
"Thank you, Sensei."
The turtles bowed respectfully to their teacher. Leonardo sat, cross-legged on the mat, watching the match. The only outward sign of his ongoing frustration was the slight twitch in his hands when Donatello let his bo down for that instant.
We'll have to work on that. He needs to be more aware of his defenses…thought Leonardo. As soon as this stupid "no training" order is lifted.
His brothers filed past him out of the dojo. Splinter lingered, regarding his oldest son with something close to exasperation.
"Leonardo, it is time for the morning meal."
"I know, Sensei. I thought I would meditate for a while. Since I'm not allowed to train." Leonardo couldn't keep the frustration and bitterness out of his voice.
Splinter sighed. His claws made tiny scratching sounds on the mat as he made his way to Leonardo's side. His claws rested gently on Leonardo's shoulder. "My son. I know it is difficult for you to watch your brothers train. You must give your body time to heal. Sometimes even the mightiest river must give way to the stillness of the pool."
"I know, Sensei," said Leonardo, lowering his eyes. "I just… I hate sitting around the Lair while the others go out on patrols. I hate watching them train when I can't participate."
"You will rejoin your brothers for some light training tomorrow," said Splinter. Leonardo's eyes lit up. "In the meantime, you must nourish your healing body. Will you come to breakfast, my son?"
"Hai, Sensei," said Leonardo, getting to his feet perhaps more quickly than was wise. He felt a pull in his chest where the ribs were still knitting, and resolved to move more carefully. He gave Splinter a short bow. "Thank you, Sensei."
Splinter nodded his acknowledgement, and led the way out to the kitchen.
***
Sylvia waited through the day. Jeremy woke up, and soon grew bored. "I'm going out, Syl. You wanna go?" She shook her head, with a vague smile. "Ok. Well, I'll see if I can get us somethin' to eat, ok?" She caught his hand as he was leaving. The message was as clear as if she'd spoken. 'Be careful.'
"Don't worry, Sylvia. I can look out for myself." The boy smiled, and was gone.
Sylvia sat with her back against the tunnel wall, resting. The lack of food had left her feeling tired and worn. She needed to conserve her energy.
Evening fell, and still Jeremy hadn't returned, but Sylvia wasn't worried. Jeremy'd been living on the streets most of his life. He really could take care of himself. He sometimes disappeared for a couple days at a time, almost always bringing back groceries, blankets, or other supplies he'd managed to acquisition in his travels. Without Jeremy, Sylvia might not have survived this long.
This time, she was glad the boy had gone on one of his foraging trips. What she would do tonight, she had to do alone. She leaned back against the tunnel wall, breathing deeply. One with the shadows. Silent in the darkness. Invisible. Inaudible. Undetected. Unseen.
***
"Sorry, Leonardo. I know Master Splinter said you could start training again tomorrow, but I really think you shouldn't go out on patrols just yet," said Donatello. Leonardo stood with his arms crossed across his plastron, hiding the nearly-healed crack, and glared at his younger brother.
"I'm fine, Don. I'll just stick to the rooftops. I won't get into any fights."
"I don't think you should try jumping rooftops yet, either," Donatello stood between his older brother and the door, stubbornly blocking his path. Leonardo opened his mouth to speak again, but Splinter's voice cracked through the Lair.
"Leonardo!" Leonardo turned on his heel, an angry response dying before it could leave his mouth.
"Hai, Sensei." he bowed a little stiffly.
"Sorry, Leo," whispered Donatello. Leonardo ignored him, stalking off to his room. Raphael and Michelangelo came down the stairs.
"Ya ready ta go, Don?" asked Raphael. Donatello looked at Splinter. The old rat raised one eyebrow. He turned and went back into his room.
Donatello sighed. "Yeah, let's go, guys." The three filed out of the Lair, and headed out into the night.
***
Sylvia knew the turtles had left their home. She'd sensed them in the tunnels, their essences faint, far away, and moving further away. Slowly, she got to her feet, and made her way down the tunnels, following the remembered twists and turns until she once again faced the seal that led to their home.
She crouched in the shadows for a long time, but could sense only silence. Cautiously, she approached the door. She moved the piece of concrete, and pushed the buttons. The seal opened, and she smiled in satisfaction. This was almost too easy. Sylvia slipped through the partially open door, careful not to close it completely. She was in.
***