(10 Weeks Later)
Brandon slouched against the back of the couch as he gazed at the overnight bag that was sitting on the other side of the coffee table. I really should move that thing. Reina and Olivia have already done their fair share of playing with the bag, digging through the contents to find out what was inside. There's not much point. As soon as I get the call from Greg, I'll be out the door anyway.
He switched to staring at the massive beams that adorned the majestic Great Room ceiling. It's hard to believe we're this close to another Thanksgiving. The year really flew by…parts of it.
Brandon heard a few random syllables that were strung together so that they nearly resembled a sentence, and glanced over to see Mike carrying Nathaniel down the steps.
"Still waiting for him to call?" the orange-masked turtle asked.
He nodded mutely as Michelangelo came into the room and plunked down on the other end of the couch.
"Are you feeling nervous?" Mike continued.
Brandon gave him a withering look. "How should I feel? I haven't seen the man in about twenty years."
"I think it's cool that you're going to see your dad, Bran. Maybe you can get some things off your chest."
The man shrugged. "I've let him hold this power over me for my entire life, and I'll just be glad to finally cut it off." Brandon looked down at the floor before sheepishly meeting Mike's gaze again. "I almost canceled the whole thing last night, and told Greg to forget it. But I think I'll regret it if I don't go."
Mike nodded. "You would, Brandon. It's better to be honest with him, better for you," he said meaningfully.
"I have to admit that after the…adventures of this year, this doesn't seem so traumatic," Brandon replied.
The research he'd requested Donatello to resume had landed a couple of promising leads over the last month, including the discovery that Carl James was wanted on several other felonious counts. It had been a surreal experience to learn that his father was being held without bail in Florida, and Brandon hadn't been sold on the idea of going to see him at first.
Kat had never pushed him to go, merely suggesting that the opportunity existed. Now both he and his older sister were preparing for the short trip to Florida that would finally drive a nail in the coffin of his broken relationship with his father.
Brandon grinned at Nate as Mike helped the baby turtle to maintain his balance by standing in between his legs. Nathaniel's sweet smile made the man feel lighter, and he had to laugh when the baby started bouncing up and down.
"That's right, Nate, work them muscles," Mike encouraged him.
"He's getting so big," Brandon remarked. "It's hard to believe he's six months old."
"He'll be crawling around here before we know it…and then all bets will be off." Mike smirked.
Brandon patted Nate's head fondly. "I think that's to be expected considering who he's related to."
"Well, yeah. He's gonna learn the art of 'trouble' from the best," Mike returned.
"He'll have a lot of teachers around here in that case," Jazz offered from behind them.
Brandon turned his head to see the young woman, and his smile automatically widened. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to."
"Don needed my opinion, and now he needs the expert," she said vaguely. "Your brother requires you in the kitchen, Mikey. Something about an old recipe that was a favorite of Kat's?"
Michelangelo looked mystified, but quickly got to his feet with a grin. "Duty calls."
Jazz cleared her throat as the turtle started to pick up the baby. "Can I see Nate?"
"Sure – the little guy knows you well enough by now."
Brandon watched Michelangelo hand Nathaniel over to Jazz, and chuckled at the way the baby hung onto her side like a monkey. "So what's all this about in the kitchen?" he asked her. "Sounds a little mysterious."
"Nothing; Don's just playing catch-up now that he's got his feet underneath him."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm sworn to secrecy," Jazz answered.
"I won't tell anyone," he protested mildly.
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Your mouth is just as big as Mike's and Raph's." Jazz smiled teasingly, and then focused her attention on the baby. "Nate is a complete doll. I can't get over those big eyes."
Brandon crossed his arms over his chest as he settled into a more comfortable position on the couch. "You like the kids, huh?"
"Reina and Liv are hysterical to watch. I'd swear they were sisters if they didn't look so different. It sure doesn't seem to matter to them, though…not that it should."
Brandon shook his head. "Once you get to know the turtles and find out what they're all about, appearances are irrelevant."
Jazz broke away from cooing over Nathaniel long enough to look at Brandon's bag. "Are you ready for this?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I need to do it."
"You know I'd go with you in a heartbeat."
Brandon shook his head again. "I don't want to drag you back into a Prison, Jazz. We're not even going to be there that long."
Her hand landed on his arm. "The location wouldn't bother me."
He gave her a half smile. "You handled the 'crazy Asians' pretty well, so I'm not worried that you couldn't take it. This is just my longest living demon, and…"
"It's okay," she said reassuringly. "I don't have to go. I'm only reminding you that I would have."
"Is this you trying to be nice to me again?" he asked impishly.
"It's a cycle, Bran. Break you down, build you up. It's all part of the fun."
Brandon traced a finger over a bright red highlight in her hair that she'd recently touched up. "It's never boring with you around."
"With me around? You guys are the loco ones," she insisted.
"Yet you choose to stay." He chuckled, reviving the old argument. "What does that make you?"
"Very, very…entertained."
She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he leaned over to kiss her.
"I'll be all right," Brandon said. "I need to get through this next part, and then I can hopefully continue on my path toward normality."
Jazz laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that."
Brandon's eyes were glued to his watch while it seemed like time was standing still.
"You know that won't make 3:00 come any faster, don't you, Bran?" Greg pointed out.
Brandon gave his friend a stern look. "You're here to fly, Greg, not to serve as the commentator on all things obvious."
"I'm just saying…"
"You'd better quit while you're ahead, Heffernan," Katherine advised. "Although I don't understand why you wanted to be here so early, Bran. I think sitting outside makes the waiting worse. You didn't touch lunch today. Are you sure you wouldn't like to get something to eat?"
"Kat, we've got less than an hour to go! How do you expect me to eat now?"
"The same way you eat every other day?" she suggested.
Brandon murmured darkly under his breath as he adjusted his position closer to the car window. "I'm perfectly fine sitting here. If you two want to kill the time somewhere else, feel free."
Katherine rolled her eyes. "Sure. I'm gonna leave you alone, like the great big sister I've always been."
"Hey," Brandon said a little sharply. "I've listened to you talk about being an awful sister for a couple of years now, and I don't want to hear it anymore. You're not a bad person or a bad sister, Kat.
"Do you really think Kari or I blame you for leaving California when you had the chance? The only reason I wasn't on the next plane out when I turned 18 is because I was a chicken. At least you did something with your life."
"So did you," she countered. "You went to school. You were a teacher, you kept up with Taekwondo—"
"I did enough to get by, Kat. I never took any chances, not really. Heck, the only action I saw was in the middle of a controlled spar."
"I don't know about any of that, Bran, but I know what I did," Kat said. "I wasn't there for you and Karina. I was barely there for Mom when she was sick."
"Kat, that wasn't your fault," he said instantly. "Mom was hardly diagnosed seven weeks before she passed away. There wasn't much time for anything."
"I could have done more," she said softly. "I should have come back home so many more times than I did, before she got sick. I was never satisfied with life in California, but that shouldn't have meant cutting myself off from my family. I regret many things, but nothing more than hiding everything that was changing here in New York from you and Karina."
"It's not easy to tell people about the guys," Brandon allowed. "Anyway, that's in the past, Kat. If we're all being held accountable for every decision we've ever made, then I'm in huge trouble."
She managed a smile for him.
"I'm serious, Kat. Don't hang onto this stuff, or try living under this 'bad sister' cloud for the rest of your life. You risked everything for me and a ton of people on the East Coast. At some point, you have to be able to forgive yourself that you're not capable of being in two places at once." He drew an arm around her back, and Katherine leaned into his embrace.
"There's not an evil bone in your body, Sis, but you're still dangerous to the bad guys. How many people can say that?"
"I can be pretty dangerous to you too," she mock-challenged.
He laughed. "I'm not the only one. I'm telling you, Kat, if you can teach me that chokehold you disabled Raph with last week, I'll worship the ground you walk on."
Kat gave him a wry smile. "We'll see about that when we get back, Bran."
The bronze-haired man walked tall through the main visiting room, despite the nerves clenching his stomach. Why am I so anxious about this? He's the one who should be tied up in knots, not me.
Brandon hesitated in the middle of the room, while Kat continued for a couple of steps. After a moment she turned around to look for him.
"I see him, Bran," she told him. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."
He put one foot in front of the other and followed his sister. Disgust was the first emotion to leap to the surface when he laid eyes on his father, but he breathed deeply to steady it. Calm down. Do what you came for: let him go. You can keep it together long enough for that.
Carl peered up at the two of them emotionlessly as the approached. "I wasn't sure if you'd show," he said gruffly.
"It's been a long time, Carl," Katherine replied coolly.
"Not quite long enough for me," Brandon muttered.
"Then what are you doing here, besides wasting my time?" Carl asked flatly.
Katherine glanced at Brandon. He looked at the chair that was sitting across from his father, but he didn't feel like sitting down. Kat made no move toward it either.
"I'm sorry we had to fly down here to waste your time, but we needed to see you again," Brandon continued evenly.
"What do you want from me?" Carl demanded. "Do I get to hear the sob story about how I ruined your life?"
Brandon clenched and unclenched his fists. "No. I'm not here to talk about how you ruined our lives when we were kids, or the way you destroyed Karina by stealing the only thing she had left of our mother."
"She couldn't take care of that place, Brandon," Carl said snidely. "I did that girl a favor. So you ain't here to talk about those things. Then why'd you come?"
"I'm angry with you, and letting go of all that anger is going to take a while," Brandon admitted. "But I'm taking my first steps today in the direction of my new...unrepressed mindset. I can't go anywhere unless I forgive you."
"You came here to forgive me?" Carl said sarcastically. "Well, doesn't that just make my day."
"I could have done it over the phone, but I think that some things are better to do in person," Brandon replied.
He edged around the side of the table slowly. "I've been through a lot in the past few months, and I think it's partially enabled me to stand here today. I can do things even when I don't have the emotion to back them up. I don't have to feel forgiveness. I can make the decision to let you go."
"That's all very nice, Son. Which part couldn't you say over the phone?"
Brandon shook his head. "You could at least pretend to show a little remorse, but I guess that's beneath you."
"Did you really expect that from me coming in, Brandon?"
"No, but you're not making this easy for me. I'm over you as far as I'm concerned. The hard part is letting you off for the way you treated Karina and our Mom."
"Your stupid whore of a mother was the worst mistake I ever made!"
In the blink of an eye Brandon's fist connected with the man's mouth so hard that it sent both his father and the chair he'd been sitting in tumbling backwards. He'd hardly taken three steps away before two pairs of arms descended on his shoulders.
Brandon grinned into the faces of the Prison guards. "Tell me you never wanted to do that! C'mon!"
Their faces weren't laughing, but Brandon couldn't help chuckling as he heard another guard radioing in a request to contact the local police department.
"Let's go," the man on his right commanded, as he and his partner herded him toward the door.
"You're my hero, Bran!" Katherine called after them.
Brandon laughed, as inappropriate as it seemed. "Bail me out, Kat!"