Sorry guys - I had to send my laptop in for repairs which accounted for the delay in the update this time. I do apologize about that. Anyway thank you again for those who've taken the time to review as always, really do appreciate it guys and I'll work on getting this updated again soon, really appreciate your patience.

Chapter 15

Raphael had never really considered himself a patient turtle. His patience was often tested at the best of times. Little things often ground on his nerves pushing his ever often uncontrollable temper to the surface. Leo always seemed to be the one that could push that button faster than anyone else, and Raphael would often explode at his oldest brother, relieved to finally have something or someone to release all that built up tension on. But these days it wasn't Leonardo that was pushing his buttons. It wasn't Leonardo's fault that Michelangelo didn't know who they were, it wasn't Leonardo's fault that Michelangelo avoided them, it wasn't Leonardo's fault that Raphael hadn't stopped Michelangelo from going out that night alone, it wasn't Leonardo's fault that Michelangelo had gotten hurt, it wasn't Leonardo's fault that Michelangelo acted as if they were all strangers. If he were going to be honest with himself, it was his fault. Michelangelo could've been stopped that night, Raphael could have gone with him to that stupid comic book convention. Elizabeth would've understood, Raphael could've prevented all of this. But no he'd been all too eager to have some quiet downtime, to just relax, knowing all too well that the gang activity hand increased topside, that it was dangerous, that no one should've been topside alone.

"Raphael," Elizabeth said with a frown as she sat running a brush through her long dark hair, the bristles easily getting through the few tangles there. "Stop pacing. It's not helping."

"It's been two weeks, Lizbeth, how much longer is it gonna take?"

"You heard, Don. These things take time, Raph. Just be patient," Elizabeth said as she tried to soothe her boyfriend.

Raph growled and turned to pace the length of the room once again. "I've been patient! I'm tired 'o 'im flinchin' away from us every time we get close ta 'im!"

Elizabeth sighed. "Raph, he's still adjusting. He's doing better."

Raph snorted in disagreement. Glaring at the floor, the muscles in his arm flexing in his agitation. Elizabeth shook her head putting her brush down and stood up, the silk spaghetti strap night gown she was wearing brushing against her thighs as she walked over to the frustrated turtle. She put her hands on his arms, blocking his path. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, those amber eyes flaring behind his mask.

"Raph, this wasn't your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself for Mikey's injuries."

"I shouldn't 'o let 'im go alone, 'Lizbeth. I shoulda know better. I did know better."

"Raph, what's done is done, you can't change the past – you can't change what happened. All we can do now is try to help Mikey through this until his memory comes back. It will come back, Raph we just have to be patient."

"An' what if he don't ever remember us? What if he don't wanna remember us?"

"Raph, you can't think like that. You're his brother of course he's going to remember you. Amnesia isn't an exact science… there's no way of knowing when his memory will come back. Anything at any time could trigger it. We just have to try and keep reminding him of things that could help trigger it. That's the best we can do and hope that it won't take too much longer before Mikey comes back to us. It'll be ok."

Releasing one of his arms she put her hand up touching the side of his face. He leaned into her touch, squeezing his eyes shut and then nuzzled her hand with his beak, his hand gently grabbing her wrist as he took in the soft scent of coconut that seemed to cling to her. Elizabeth pretended not to notice the tear that splashed down into his mask.

Reaching up with her other hand she touched his mask, reaching for the knot. He didn't stop her. His hand still clamped onto her wrist sliding down her arm a little as she reached for his mask with both hands Elizabeth gently began to untie the knot, and then pulled his mask off.

Those rich amber eyes looked at her face once again and Elizabeth folded the mask, setting it down, before her hand cupped his neck, and she pulled him closer, encouraging him to her. She could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"You need to relax. Come on let's go to bed."

Raphael didn't say anything but allowed her to lead him to the bed, gently pushing him down onto the mattress. He felt her body settle on top of his, leaving a trail of soft kisses up his neck, his jaw and his arms wrapped around her back automatically, pulling her close, needing her right now. Things were so out of control, so screwed up. His family so worried about Mikey. His hands slid up her back, feeling the smooth soft material of her nightgown, lifting it a little. She pressed her body closer to him, and felt her lips touch his, and he was kissing her back, his right hand moving up clenching in her hair as his left found the soft skin of her back, feeling her shiver as a finger trailed up her spine. She groaned a little as her fingers trailed down his front, feeling the small imperfections in his plastron. He felt warmth flooding through his gut. A familiar pleasant feeling and marveled in that.

It never ceased to amaze him that he was this lucky, that he had Elizabeth. That she loved him. That she wanted to be with him like this. So close. That she saw him as someone incredible. She was incredible. He was the luckiest turtle in the world. His hand released her hair cupping her cheek, as he deepened the kiss, gently rolling over pressing her to the mattress and he settled on her. For now lost in the moment that they had together. Just the two of them.

Melinda was relieved that she was no longer trapped in that weird makeshift medical room, the guest room was much friendlier. And it was nice to have some clean clothes to change into. Though the cast the turtle had put on her broken leg made it impossible for her to wear anything but baggy bottoms she could at least wear the shirts she wanted to. And now that the ugly black, blue and purple bruises had healed she had stopped wearing the baggy shirts that she normally wore to bed under normal circumstances since they had been the best clothing to help hide those ugly marks and had started wearing some of her better fitting and more appealing tops.

She had been released from bed rest almost a week ago now and though she had been hesitant at first she had been eager to leave the small room that she had been confined to for a while now. Taking the crutches that Donatello had offered her she had made her way out of the infirmary and back out to the main living area of the turtles' home. The blue and red masked turtles had been no where in sight, making Melinda feel a little more at ease. The purple masked turtle had helped her over to the couch, telling her not to over do it at first since she had been on bed rest for a week and would tire easily.

Melinda had wanted to object at first, had been anxious to get home and get her things, call Buddy and tell him she would need a leave of absence. But after being allowed to use the turtle's pay phone to check her voice mail, and getting ever increasingly angry voice mails from Buddy about her continued absence without even having the courtesy to call Melinda realized that she no longer had a job with Buddy. And his last voice mail had confirmed that. He'd also said that if he got a call from any future boss that he would not hesitate to tell them about her extended leave of unapproved absence. Buddy was not someone you crossed. A bad recommendation from him could ruin any chance she had of getting a good job here in the city. She'd known from the moment she'd taken the job that the man she was working for could make or break her career, and unfortunately it had been the latter for her.

With no job to go back to, and with her apartment unsecure Melinda had no reason to fight to go home. She wasn't in a hurry to run into those creeps in the black pajamas again. She wasn't sure if she'd survive another visit to their headquarters. She definitely didn't want to have to find out the hard way.

But that didn't mean she was comfortable here either. The blue and red masked turtles intimidated and frightened her. She felt uneasy every time one of them was close. The amber eyes of the red masked turtle always sent chills down her spine. She wasn't sure how that woman, Elizabeth, looked him straight in the face. Melinda could barely look at him from clear across the room, let alone be right next to him and look up into those blazing amber eyes. But it seemed as if Elizabeth was "with" the turtle. The way she looked at him, and touched his face, or brushed his arm with her hand as she passed him all indicated an intimate relationship.

It was obvious that these turtles weren't animals, that they had feelings and acted as humane and were as gracious as any human host would be. But Melinda couldn't help but watch those two interact with each other. The way that Elizabeth could seem to calm down the hot headed turtle with a simple squeeze to his bicep, or putting a hand on his plastron. The turtle's hard eyes would snap to her face and Elizabeth would stare back at him evenly. Depending on the situation the turtle would either storm off to what Melinda assumed was an exercise room to release the built up tension or his shoulders would slump in defeat and Elizabeth's arms would wrap around him as she hugged him, his own arms would wrap around her waist and he would bury his face into her shoulder as he held her close.

As for the turtle that Melinda had rescued that night, Michelangelo – that was his name. She had heard one of the other turtles calling him that and at first she hadn't known who they were talking to until the turtle that she'd rescued had turned to look at the speaker. Melinda knew that the other three turtles were worried about him. She saw them sharing anxious expressions and talking in hushed tones whenever he wasn't around. It was clear that he didn't remember who they were, but he did remember her.

The first day that she had been let off bed rest and had been allowed to sit on the couch so she could watch TV the turtle had joined her, bringing with him a bowl of popcorn. He'd smiled at her, a warm friendly smile that had made her feel so much more at ease than she did with any of the other turtles. She never felt more comfortable down here than when she was with him. There was just something so soothing about his presence. Where as the blue and red masked turtles always seemed to radiate tension, power and intimidation, this turtle was the complete opposite. She gravitated towards him. Unable to help herself. And with his own injuries his physical activities were also limited, so he spent a lot of time with her on the couch.

Akemi was often present during the afternoon hours to watch a movie, sitting between the two of them. Melinda had learned that she loved The Lion King and would try to persuade anyone and everyone to allow her to watch it over and over again. With her pearly white teeth, dimples, bright green eyes, long brown curls and perky personality Melinda found that hard to resist, and so did Michelangelo so they often gave in to her demands and let her watch the movie over and over again.

Akemi would happily swing her feet off the end of the couch and sing along with the "I Just Can't Wait To Be King" and "Hakuna Matata" much to Melinda's amusement. And from the look on Michelangelo's face he found it quite entertaining as well.

Elizabeth would only allow Akemi so much TV time a day and then would insist on stories or play time. Akemi had delighted in bringing Michelangelo and Melinda several horse figurines, some of them very scuffed up. One of them had a mane made of rabbit's fur that was starting to come unglued. Akemi had kissed the top of the horse's head and had announced it "all better".

It was impossible not to be taken in by Akemi's charm. And hard not to notice the way she loved the red masked turtle or the way she would run to the blue masked turtle after he was done in the exercise room. She would fling herself at him and he would catch her in the air, shifting her to his side and holding her gently. They both seemed so patient with her, so gentle. Something that Melinda never would've expected from either of them.

She had been very surprised the day she had seen Akemi running to the blue masked turtle, and after catching her and shifting her weight, had began to converse in a strange language, only to have Akemi respond in the same language. What was that – Chinese? Japanese? The child was bilingual. That was something most adults struggled with.

Whatever he had said to her had made her laugh with delight. Melinda had watched as he'd put her down, she'd run for the kitchen where the smell of warm chocolate chip cookies were baking, and a few seconds later had come out with two cookies in her hands. One for herself and one for the turtle. The blue masked turtle had smirked as he'd picked her up again and she'd put the cookie to his mouth. He'd taken it and was still chewing his first bite when Elizabeth had come out and scolded them both, telling them the cookies were for dessert. But she hadn't really sounded angry. She'd looked amused and so had the turtle.

It was a strange family to be sure, but it was obvious that this family cared deeply for each other. That they were close and that they would do anything for each other.

Melinda was jolted out of her thoughts, as the couch shifted, Michelangelo joining her once again, holding a bag of potato chips, being careful not to jar her broken leg, which was propped up on a small stool that Donatello had brought out for her.

"Hey, Melinda… whatcha watchin'?"

Melinda shrugged. She hadn't really been paying attention to what she had been watching to be honest. She'd been absent-mindedly flipping through the channels caught up in her own thoughts and had paused on one station without realizing that she had.

Michelangelo pushed a couple chips into his mouth. "Didn't know you liked wrestling."

Melinda started. She didn't. "Oh… I guess I wasn't really paying attention," she admitted as she picked up the remote again. She held it out to him. "Here, why don't you pick something."

Michelangelo took it. "Actually, I saw that Ghost Rider was going to be on tonight. Want to watch that?"

"I've never seen it before."

"Can't remember if I have either," Michelangelo said with a smirk.

Melinda couldn't help but smile at his joke, though she doubted any of the other turtles would've found it funny, she was glad that Michelangelo could poke fun at his own condition even if it was only around her. She'd noticed that he seemed awkward around his brothers, looking almost as uncomfortable as she was around them. Not that she could blame them, it must be hard to be the turtle that they wanted to be, the turtle that he couldn't remember.

It wasn't fair that they were putting so much pressure on him to be someone he couldn't remember.

Michelangelo scrolled though the channels until he reached the one he was looking for. Obviously the movie had already started. Though if Melinda were to guess she wouldn't think that it had started all that long ago. She settled back against the cushions. Michelangelo offered her the chips. Melinda looked at the flavor. Barbeque. Her favorite. She took a few chips and put one in her mouth.

Michelangelo shifted a little on the couch. "You want a soda or something?"

"Um, just water is fine," Melinda said a bit shyly.

Michelangelo grinned and stood up, heading to the kitchen only to return a minute later with a couple water bottles. He settled back down next to her, handing her one of the bottles.

"Thanks," Melinda said as she took the bottle from him. He smiled, taking a few more chips and settled in to watch the movie.

Leonardo left the dojo, feeling refreshed after his meditation session, trying to ease his troubled thoughts about his brother. Though he often found peace and a sense of calm in the spiritual plane he hadn't been able to find what he had been seeking lately. But he knew that the answers he wanted weren't so easily found. He knew that Donatello had been doing as much research as he could on amnesia and how to help people who suffered with it, hoping to find some way to bring Mikey back. But like Leonardo the answers he found were not definitive, and weren't much help in bringing Mikey back into the shell that Michelangelo was.

Though, Leonardo had noticed that part of Michelangelo's personality had still stuck with him. The fact that Michelangelo had a tendency to prefer superhero movies and cartoons. Leonardo had seen him on the couch with Melinda and Akemi watching The Lion King several times over the past week, and even when Akemi wasn't around Michelangelo had enjoyed cartoon TV shows, laughing loudly when he watched The Simpsons with Melinda.

Leonardo couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Melinda. Michelangelo seemed much more relaxed around her than with any of the rest of them. It hadn't gone unnoticed that Michelangelo's shoulders were tense and that he was quieter when he was just around his brothers. That he seemed so uncomfortable.

What was the difference between him being around Melinda and him being around them that brought out such a change in his personality? They were after all his brothers.

When Leonardo had asked Master Splinter about this he'd been told to meditate on the questions he had. And so he had been, but the answers never seemed to be what he expected. Or what he wanted. He always got the feeling that Michelangelo felt less pressured when he was around Melinda, that she simply allowed him to be who he was and that she wasn't trying to pressure him into being the brother that he couldn't remember. And although Leonardo could understand that it didn't help him figure out how to bring Michelangelo back.

Glancing over to the entertainment center corner he saw Michelangelo's head sitting next to Melinda, on the many TVs were two figures on fire riding through the desert, to a fast paced theme. Obviously a superhero type of movie, he wasn't sure if it was something Melinda had picked or if it had been Michelangelo. But if it had been his brother, it meant that a part of Mikey was definitely surfacing at least a little bit, and if he was he would do whatever it took to bring that part up until his brother was back, his memories restored and he was truly able to bring his brother home.