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For Love or Freedom	By : sss979 Category: Comics > Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Views: 2966 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
She knew she had eyes on her the moment she walked out of the auto shop and into the warm, late-afternoon sunlight. Her eyes narrowed as she stared down a the ground beneath her feet, her other senses scanning the world around her. She knew he was watching her. He'd been following her around for days. He knew where she lived, where she worked, who she talked to. She didn't imagine he knew of Raphael, but that was to be expected. After all, Raph was ninja. He wouldn't leave himself out in the open.
Fully alert and aware, she lowered her head, measuring the threat as she walked slowly. From deep in the shadows of the buildings around her, a dark figure smiled. She knew he was eyeing her. She'd known for a while, but it was still his choice when to expose himself. The past several days had been spent letting her sweat. This time, he intended to approach her. But he chose not to move just yet. There were too many people in the area for the business to be discussed and it would likely mean his life if outsiders were to hear of it. He knew her, and he knew she could be trusted regardless of her stand on the subject at hand. But he trusted the general population of New York very little.
She kept her head down, hair whisping around her face as she headed toward home. She was being followed, and she had a good idea by whom. It was a short list of people who might be following her. And she had more interest in finding out what her pursuer wanted than in shaking him. She opted to walk rather than take the subway, and turned down one of the shortcut alleyways, heading away from the bright city lights.
A dark shadow dropped down a few feet in front of her as she hid safely out of the city's glare. She jumped back, feeling more than seeing the figure in front of her, and braced instinctively. "Smart girl."
Her eyes narrowed as he spoke. What little she could see of him confirmed who he was. She held her stance, ready to defend if he should think to attack her first. Her hand was poised and ready to drop to her belt, where the folded nunchaku was tucked safely out of sight. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice cold.
"One of our protectorates is on trial. I need you to stop the case against him."
His voice was completely emotionless, his stance solid and unwavering. He didn't move, nor did he hold a threatening stance, and her hands lowered slowly. She was still prepared to defend herself, but doubted she would need to.
"I'm not interested in helping you," shewerewered. "You all need something done, you've got plenty of other pawns to do it for you."
The figure laughed softly, amused at her defiant tone. "None of our other pawns are quite as skilled and successful as you."
She growled quietly at his words. "You tryin' to flatter me?"
He laughed again, still amused. "Hardly." His smile fell, and he stared at her with dark, cold eyes. "You're not the type to be flattered, are you now?"
She glared at him, and considered attacking, but opted to walk around him at a safe distance without a word. "Well, at least we have that much clear. Now if we could just clarify this misconception that I'm interested in helping you..."
"It's a murder trial," he continued, following her and ignoring her words. "The key witness is the target. They have DNA as well, and between his testimony, and that evidence, there's sure to be a conviction."
She chuckled quietly. "If you don't mind me as, ho, how exactly do you plan to 'deal' with DNA evidence? If they got that, they'll convict him, witness or not. You're better off tryin' to buy the jury."
"That is not an option," he answered her quietly, offering no further explanation. "And the evidence is not your concern."
She shook her head slightly in disbelief. "You act like I should consider any of this my concern."
"You should," he answered forcefully. "If this boy testifies, and our protectorate goes to jail, it will likely be the end of us."
She tensed, suddenly quiet. When she spoke again, she was still plenty sarcastic, but not as laughing. "You mean to tell me your entire future rests on this one man? This one job you need me to do?"
"In essence, yes," he admitted quietly. "He holds sensitive information. Information that if he were to be convicted, he'd take to jail with him and no doubt use against us to lessen his sentence or get free altogether. We all know how desperate the police in this city are for information pertaining to my people."
She was quiet. Yes, she did know that. And it made her slightly uneasy. Not that she gave a shit what happened to them at this point, but there was something about his words that hit her with an incredible force. Her head lowered as she continued to walk, but there was no biting sarcasm to answer him. There was instead a long silence before she finally found words. "Why me?" she demanded quietly. "If he's so important, why don't you just take care of him yourself? Hit and run assassination is a sure fire. I guarantee nothing in my operations."
"If his death doesn't look like an accident, it could hurt the case even more. And regardless of what you may or may not promise, we know your success rate. This is not a matter we would be willing to entrust to our younger, less experienced associates."
She didn't answer. He continued alongside her, remaining in the shadows. "It's a simple job. He's one of those good kids; won't suspect a thing. Straight-A student, track star. Probably should've been student council president but he didn't have the balls to run. Bit of a self-esteem problem. He has a girlfriend, but... heh, you'd need a fuckin' crowbar to get her legs open."
She laughed out loud. "Simple job? Simple my ass! You want me to hit a fucking kid? How old is he?"
"He's seventeen," he answered simply.
She shook her head slightly. Did he have any idea how difficult this job would be to pull even if she were interested? If he was seventeen, he lived at home. He wouldn't visit the bars or even the dance clubs she usually used to arrange encounters with targets; he couldn't get in. He had a girlfriend, and he wouldn't be looking for another relationship. He was a high schooler for cryin' out loud. She was twenty-three. The majority of his time was spent in a building she couldn't fit into if she tried. And if he was such a good student, the chances of him doing any kind of partying were slim to none. "Forget it," she mumbled. "You're screwed. And you're fuckin' crazy if you think anyone can pull that job off."
"Two point five million dollars."
She choked. Her steps came to a dead halt, and she tried desperately not to seem surprised. "S'cuse me?"
"Cash."
She blinked. Two and a half million was a lot more than she normally made in a single job. It took a moment for the shock to wear off before she realized just how blatently they were insulting her with such an offer. As if she could be manipulated with money. Her face set as she began to walk again, staring down at the ground passing under her feet. "I don't do it for the money."
"Then what would you do it for?" he bribed.
She spun to him defensively. "What the hell do you expect me to say to you, huh? You turn your goddamn back on me, you excommunicate me from the only family I have, and now you decide you need my help with an impossible pull, and you expect me to come running? No. No fucking way."
"We need you to do this," he answered quietly.
"Yeah? Well what about when I needed you, huh? What about when you left me with nothing? You expect that because you'll overlook what I supposedly did that I'll look over the fact that you made my life hell?"
"This is a straight job, onna," he glared at her. She growled at him dangerously, fists clenching at her sides. "You do it, we pay you, you have no more connection to us. Ever."
"So what is this, a de-initiation?" she challenged.
"Call it that if you'd like," he answered, staring her down. "I'm certainly not looking for you to rejoin our fight. But at times, desperate circumstances require desperate measures. And two and a half million is quite a lot of money. Particularly for someone who normally makes little more than spare change on her work."
She held back the urge to strike him. "I told you. I don't do it for the money. And you have a lot of nerve to come here and insult me like that, and expect me to want to pull this job for you when you threw me to the dogs."
He smiled faintly at her, then turned away. "I need not have an answer now. Just think about it. Two and a half million." He ducked into the shadows an in an instant, he was gone.
She growled, then spun away from the place he had stood, continuing home. The money meant nothing to her. The mere fact that she did work for "spare change" should have told him that. And it wasn't that she couldn't do better. She knew damn well she could take on the business execs who were willing to pay thousands for matters of corporate betterment. But she chose her projects carefully, and none of them yet had earned her more than several hundred dollars.
Her pace remained steady as she continued, staring at the ground but not really seeing it. His words rang in her ears. Two point five million dollars. That was a hell of a lot of money. What on earth would she even do with that? She sure didn't need it. And she didn't want to have to explain where she got it, either. The last thing she needed was an IRS audit. She could give it anonymously to the shelters and outreaches, but in such a large amount, it would draw attention. Besides, the idea of offering blood money to the church somehow seemed very wrong.
No, the money held no interest for her. It never had, although she knew that in their minds, it should. She was without honor in their eyes. To operate as she did, for anything but the betterment of the entire group, that was a disgraceful thing. And she knew that. She knew full well the implication they were making in offering her such a large amount of money. He truly thought he could bribe her.
But any lust for a cushioned lifestyle had died years ago, if it had ever existed at all. She hadn't turned from them to pursue it. For that fact, she hadn't turned at all. It was they who had turned their backs on her. And perhaps that was what made it somewhat satisfying to hear that they were in need. To hire her, an outsider, to do a job that they couldn't do themselves...
She owed him a debt, payment for all he had done for her, and she knew it even more than he did. But somewhere along the line, her vision had gotten skewed, and she was hesitant to repay him. Something had changed inside of her. His rejection had taken more from her than he could know, and she had struggled through every minute of that pain. It had made her cold. It had made her care less for her honor as it was seen in his eyes than she did for him.
She studied the cracked sidewalk, shivering slightly as a chill swept over her. Her eyes closed, and she hugged her arms across her chest, walking quietly. Carved names in the once-wet cement seemed to speak to her, painting pictures of a life she'd left so long ago. She'd always wanted to be a part of something. She'd daydreamed of being in a gang, always knowing in the back of her mind that she'd never be foolish enough to do something like that. She'd wanted the bad boys, the danger, the excitement. It was what had made her run to them, and endure all she had to for their acceptance.
But now that acceptance was gone, and she was left without even the family she'd once had, before she'd abandoned them to join herself to her dream. Now she was alone, with this debt in their favor and broken fragments of her life. Now she was completely aware of the fact that, while her real mother and father would certainly always be there for her, they would never understand her life now. They would never understand how her new family had changed her, and how different she would forever be because of them.
They certainly wouldn't understand why there was blood on her hands.
She walked slowly up the steps to the apartment, still watching the ground under her feet and halfheartedly fumbled with her keys to find the right one to open the door. She tried several that did not work before she found the one that did, and pushed the door open slowly, not seeing or hearing or feeling much of anything as she stepped into the house. She stopped dead in her tracks as she noticed that the TV was on, and closed the door behind her, eyes scanning the empty living room. Her muscles were tense, and she stood ready, half-anticipating an attack of some sort. She knew she hadn't left or even had the TV on in several days.
A quiet noise from the kitchen, and suddenly Raphael was standing in the doorway. She almost jumped out of her skin as she realized that the intruder was still there, and relaxed again as she saw who it was. He gave her a moment to recognize him before walking into the room. "Hey," he greeted with an ironic smile. "Welcome home."
Her eyes instinctively went to the clock. It was the middle of the day. "You're... early," she hesitated. "What are you doing here?"
He walked to her, that smile still in place. His arms wrapped around her for a short moment, a hug, although admittedly his hands had rested awfully low on her hips for that brief contact. "Home got crowded," he whispered against her cheek. He didn't offer any other explanation. He was certainly not willing to discuss Ivy, or Leonardo, or Splinter's leading silences when he asked what Raphael had been up to lately.
Those memories and emotions soured the spark that had grown at the sight of her, and the kiss he gave her was almost perfunctory. She tensed at the closeness, but let him kiss her, relaxing again as he let go and vaulted onto her couch with fine disregard for the springs. "You need to get cable."
She sighed deeply as he flopped down on her couch, then turned away. She kicked off her shoes, saying nothing, and kept her eyes down as she walked to her office and shut the door, leaving him alone to watch all the non-cable TV he wanted. She didn't care one way or another if he was here, but she didn't want to talk to him. Raphael blinked as he heard the door close behind her. He considered her for a moment, then shrugged as he went back to the television.
Twenty minutes later, he was suddenly aware that he was spending more time watching her closed door than he was the slightly fuzzy Jerry Springer on the screen. He jerked his eyes back to it. Five minutes after that he swore to himself and clicked off the remote. The damn door couldn't have intruded more on him if it was neon orange and blinking. He stood up, and walked over to it. He didn't knock before opening it, and it creaked slightly on its hinges.
She didn't turn to him. She was sitting in the window, curled into the sill, staring outside. The screen had been lifted as well as the window itself, and a slight breeze swept through, rustling her hair. She decided she really needed a cigarette, before remembering she didn't smoke. Realized she wanted a beer, but didn't want to get up to go get it. So she just stared, perfectly still, her face showing no emotion as her mind ran around and around the same track. She knew he'd walked into the room, but didn't acknowledge him. His presence wasn't intruding, even though she could feel his eyes burning into her, watching her watch the window.
The silence stretched. Finally Raph opened his mouth. "So. Since I'm pretty sure it wasn't me..." He paused for just a moment. "… who shat in your cornflakes this morning?"
She barely heard him. He was talking, yes, but as for what he was saying... Her eyes locked on a bird in the yard, and followed it, but she was otherwise completely still. Another gentle slight breeze swept her hair over her face and tickled her skin, but she didn't move to brush it back.
Raph's brow furrowed, the beginnings of concern bubbling up in him, followed by surprise that he found himself concerned in the first place. It wasn't like he even knew her. Fucked her? Hell yes. But... cared that something was wrong? Not before now. He moved into the room, and leaned against the same wall the window was in, cocking his head to one side. "What happened?" He figured something must have. She hadn't been acting like this last time he'd seen her.
Her eyes closed, her head still turned to face the world outside. She was well aware of how close he was, and wasn't entirely sure she liked it right now. She considered just ignoring him, but eventually decided against it. "I..." Her voice cut off, then dropped to a whisper. "I... don't wanna talk."
Raph nodded, ignoring the fact that her eyes were closed. He could understand that. He was here because he didn't want to talk, and Leo couldn't understand that. "Alright."
He debated trying to cheer her up, but gave it up as a lost cause. He wasn't Mikey, with a glib tongue and a quick wit. More like a sharp tongue, and biting sarcasm, and he was pretty sure that wasn't what she needed right now. And what do you care what she needs? He shook that thought off. "So if you don't want to talk, what do you want?"
Finally, her stance broke as she breathed in deep, her chest rising and falling as she took air into her lungs. She crossed her arms over her bent knee, and buried her face in them, her hair falling around her head. Part of her wanted to attack him. For being here, for letting himself into her apartment like he owned the place and for following her into the room... But a larger part of her realized that as much as she hated to admit it, she was actually grateful that he was here. There was a part of her that didn't want to be alone right now. "I don't know," she mumbled quietly. "I don't know what I want. I just..." Her voice cut off as she looked back out the window. "I o. Fo. Fuckin' fairy tale ending to my life? I mean, that'd be nice..."
Raphael snorted. "Well, I don't exactly qualify as a frog prince, baby." He settled in against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, and serious. "Fairy tales are for kids. I like reality better. Even when it sucks."
She didn't look up. Her head remained resting on her arms, eyes turned out to the world. Clouds were gathering overhead. It was going to rain. She sighed quietly, but otherwise didn't answer.
Raphael was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. He didn't like it. But somehow he felt he couldn't just walk either. His eyes remained locked on her as she stared out the window, and he tried to figure out what to do next. His words came out sounding slightly exasperated. "Look, did someone hurt you?" he demanded. "Tell me who, and I'll tear out their liver and feed it to them."
He didn't hear how sincere his voice sounded on that threat, but she did. She couldn't help but laugh quietly, knowing he was perfectly serious. "I'm sure you would... " She still didn't look up at him, but a faint smile rested on her lips for a few moments before fading again.
One of his hands was on the grip of his sai, and he didn't remember putting it there. With a conscious effort, he brought his hand up so his arms were crossed again. "So's that mean someone did hurt you, or someone didn't?"
She sighed deeply, and spoke without emotion. "I'm not hurt, Raph." She turned her head and sat up a little to look at him, then offered a sad, forced smile. "Really." She couldn't hold his gaze for long before she looked away again. He just felt too... close.
His frown deepened. That sad smile, the way she didn't hold his eyes. This wasn't the girl he'd been slowly getting to know. Where was the challenge? The pride? The arrogance? He suddenly felt the lack of not knowing her name, not knowing what to call her. He stood there, impassive, waiting for her to either continue, or tell him to go.
She stared for another long moment out the window, and the silence stretched. It wasn't uncomfortable for her, somehow. As long as she didn't have to look at him, it seemed to make it easier to accept that he was there, and that he was watching her. Finally, she sighed, and her mouth opened before she really thought through what she was saying. "Do you… have family, Raph?" She considered the words as they left her mouth, and frowned. It was an unspoken rule between them not to ask questions like that, and she quickly rephrased. "Or someone you feel a responsibility to? Like... it's a matter of honor that if they needed you... you'd do whatever it takes?"
Raphael let his breath out in a long stream, surprised by the question. He took a long moment considering whether or not he'd answer it. "Yeah. I've got family." His answer was hesitant, his mind flashing back to what had driven him from the lair. "More damned trouble than they're worth most days, but if the chips were down... I'd bail 'em out."
She considered that for a long moment, saying nothing. Her eyes moved over the lawn, and the first few drops of rain from the clouds overhead misted against her face. Her eyes closed slowly. "What do you do... when they betray you…" She paused for a long silence, then slowly looked up at him, her eyes reflecting an even deeper sadness. "… and then they need you?"
With a hissing scrape of shell on drywall, he took a step away from her. One hand snagged her desk chair, and swung it around socoulcould sit on it facing the back. "Family that betrays you ain't family," he clarified.
She looked back out the window sig sighed. "I betrayed them first," she whispered. "In their minds at least."
He blinked, caught slightly off guard by that one. "You betrayed them? Or were you just not what they expected you to be?" He knew all about that last one.
She watched the rain fall, leaning back against the frame and letting one leg drop outside of the apartment, the other bent with the ball of her foot against the opposite side. "If you show any adult a piece of black paper and tell them it's white... they won't believe you. No matter how much they might want to. They think I betrayed them. And nothing can convince them otherwise."
Raph sighed. He hated riddles. "I've never had the patience for this cryptic shit," he informed her. His voice wasn't harsh, just matter of fact. "A blade is a blade. If it hurts you, hit it. If it betrays you, leave it. So. What happened? I'm about as uninvolved an audience as yer gonna get. I don't know yer family. Hell, I don't know yer name..." He stopped abruptly. That last bit had slipped out, and was part of their unspoken rules. He cast about for something else to add so it didn't sound so... like he was asking. "Just because they think you betrayed 'em doesn't make it so."
"I did leave," she answered him. "They disowned me, I left them, and I never looked back. And now they come to me, in need of help they say only I can give, and I've got… a responsibility…" Her thoughts derailed and picked up on another track. "Because a lot of people, the entire..." She hesitated as she realized she was speaking without thinking, and continued more slowly. "They're all... counting on my help and... What's done is done. I can't change it. I can't explain it. I can't... do anything about it. And now they're willing to overlook what they think I did. But I don't know if I'm willing to overlook what they did to me. Even knowing that I've got no rito..to... withhold what he put in me in the first place."
He shook his head. "They disowned you? Baby, you owe them jack. That's kinda what disowned means."
She sighed. "I know. But they did what they had to do. And what they thought was right."
ah, ah, well, just 'cause they thought it was right don't mean it was. They shoulda thought about how bad they needed you before they disowned you."
"They want to pay me."
He stared at her, confused. "Pay you? For what?"
"To do this for them."
He laughed, shaking his head in quiet disbelief. "Pay you? If it takes money to convince you to do something that you don't…"
"Two and a half million dollars, Raph," she interrupted quietly.
His eyes widened. Holy fuck! What the hell kinda family does she got? She closed her eyes against the rain, sighing deeply as she waited for him to process that. "Do they hav/e that kinda money?" he finally dared. If she could ask questions about his family, she oughtta know he wouldn't hesitate to ask about hers.
She nodded slightly. "It's not the money, Raph," she whispered. "It's not the amount, anyways. But even for them, that's not pocket change. And it's the fact that they're willing to offer that. That they need my help that bad."
He shook his head slightly, clearing it. "Look, if it's not about the money then don't think about the money." He watched her carefully as he spoke, the words quiet but still plenty loud enough for her to hear. "If they betrayed you, you got no responsibility to them. End of story. If you wanna help them, that's yer business. But if you do, just realize that they prob'ly ain't gonna think t abo about walkin' all over you again."
She sighed. "Yeah," she whispered, eyes closing again. "Unless that two and a half million dollars can buy me my freedom."
***
Raphael lay still beside the sleeping figure, one hand under his head. The other hand rested flat against her stomach, slipped under her shirt but in no way feeling her up. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in feeling her up, but she was tired. She'd fallen asleep mid-sentence once they'd moved to the bed. He hadn't had a chance to think of taking her clothes off her.
He brushed his thumb back and forth lightly, circling her navel. A quiet sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her head, nuzzling into the pillow. The corner of his mouth twitched up as her hair fell against the side of her face, framing her features. She really was beautiful. And not just in a hot, seductive, make-your-pulse-race way, either. She looked... peaceful.
He lifted his hand from her stomach and gently brushed her long hair back, over her shoulder. She wasn't peaceful. It was just a mask. Maybe not one she'd intentionally donned, but a mask all the same. She'd offered no more information about this rich - two and a half million dollars... god damn... - family of hers. And he hadn't pried. What explanation she had given had been half-coherent and filled with an air of depression that he'd not seen from her before.
Sure, she'd had her days. Who didn't feel frustration every so often? But frustration, tension... that was solved easily enough. He could get her mind off of that, and she knew it. Rarely did she ever attempt to push him away. But this... was different. This was the sort of thing he avoided, at all costs, under normal circumstances. This was not a matter of relieving tension. This was a matter of talking out the problems in her life and offering support and sentimental shit.
Not that she'd asked for that. She hadn't, and she wouldn't, and he knew it. And really, she didn't have to. He'd been open enough without flat out asking her about her life. She oughtta know by now she could tell him whatever she wanted to and he wouldn't judge her. He wasn't going to guarantee he could make it all better, or even that he'd try. But he'd listen. If she needed someone to vent to... yeah, he'd be there.
His thoughts stopped there for a minute, and his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out exactly how this had happened. At what point did he begin to give a flying fuck about her happiness? He thought back, to their earliest encounters, but he knew that wasn't it. Not by a long shot. Yeah, sure, the whole reason he'd come back in the first place, in essense, was to make fulfill her needs. But it wasn't because he cared about her needs. It didn't really have anything to do with who she was, as a person. He would've done that with any woman who thought she could challenge him that way. He didn't do it for her. He'd never tried to pretend he had. But something had changed since then. He was slowly realizing just how much it had changed. She wasn't just a woman. She was actually a friend.
He frowned, not totally sure he liked that idea. He still didn't totally trust her. But then, who did he trust? Outside of his family, it was a short list. Actually, it was a non-existant list. April? Yeah, okay. He trusted April. To a point. To the point that he would sleep in her apartment, unguarded. But not to the point where he'd tell her shit. And Casey? Well... he was about the same. Trusted, but... Raphael's guard never really lowered. The Enemy was too big, too all-encompassing, too many places all at once.
He had found, in the past few years, that his understanding of the Enemy was on a totally different level than his brothers'. Leo, especially, looked for the outward threat. He looked at sex partners as a threat, for the mere fact that they were people, bodies, who had seen them. They might tell someone. They might try to attack him when his guard was down. (Leo never had understood the concept of sex with your defenses still in place.) They might betray him.
But Raph knew it went a lot deeper than that. It was a battle of the mind, the emotions, the things that Leo ran from. As long as there was no anger toward him, there was no threat of exposure. As long as he had no trust in them, there was no chance of attack. As long as there was no love, there was no chance of betrayal. The Enemy may well make such a blatent attack as to spring out of the shadows and confront him late at night, but it rarely happened. And when it did, he was ready. That was the kind of battle that didn't phase him anymore.
But every friend, everybody who had anountount of his trust, was a potential threat, a new and unseen dimension of the Enemy. This woman was no different, and he wasn't sure he liked the idea of calling her friend. That was comparable to handing her a gun full of ammunition and saying, "Please don't shoot me." And he wasn't so sure he trusted her that much.
But somehow, it had happened. With or without his conscious approval, he'd gotten to that point. He did trust her that much. True, it was still very limited. But he liked being with her, and not just to fuck her. Sure, the sex was great. Somewhere along the line, she'd gotten damn good at what she did. Maybe she was even better than anyone else he'd been with to date. She was... compatible. Somehow. They connected. He knew what she wanted, and for the first time, his partner could read him. That probably had something to do with the fact that most of his partners were usually drunk off their asses by the time he got with them, and she usually wasn't. She could pay attention. But even so. It was almost like... she wanted him.
That was a stupid thought. Of course she wanted him. If she didn't want him, she wouldn't be so fucking eager to spread her legs. But it was more than that. It was like... he wasn't just there to use her and to be used. That's all sex had ever been, for him. Women were tools that he used to make the pain go away. And he knew they used him the same way. It was a fine line between sex and masturbation. One that he and every woman he was ever with walked. And it scared him to think that somehow, she was different. That maybe she saw him as a friend.
That felt wrong. That felt like responsibility. Like pressure. Like all the things he came to her to get away from. As if there were a way for him to let her down. To hurt her. For her to trust him was almost as frightening as the thought that he trusted her.
But even though the concept scared him, the way she executed it didn't. He felt comfortable with her, relaxed in her home. He knew he could come here to get away, and he knew she wouldn't pressure him for explanation. More importantly, he knew she didn't get weird when he did come over. She wouldn't drop what she was doing and fawn over him, try to comfort him, try to make him feel better. If he was here, he was here. She didn't have to entertain him. Not with her words or with her sex. If he wanted it, he'd let her know. If she was willing,'d 'd respond. If not... there were other places he could go. Relying solely on her to fulfill him was a great way to strain the comfort of this relationship.
He sighed as he glanced at the clock. It was late-afternoon. He'd been here for six hours. If he spent any more of his time here, he might as well just move in with her. He considered that though, and quickly put it aside. No. That wasn't going to happen. No way in hell he trusted her that much.
He brushed his fingers over the side of her face, tracing her lips lightly. A faint smile accompanied the gentle touch. She was so tired. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, trailing lightly down the side of her face, not enough to wake her. He pulled away gently and moved down her body,stopping to flick open her belt and the top of her jeans. She moaned quietly as he lifted her hips and slowly dragged them down her legs, leaving the red lace panties at her waist.
"Mmmnnn... whad'r you doinnnng?"
"Shh... just relax." He dropped the jeans on the floor and grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed. "Go back to sleep."
She moaned again and turned her face into the pillow, sighing as she felt the blanket slide up over her. He stopped at her waist and smiled to himself at her scent. He planted a light, brief kiss between her legs - he couldn't resist - then pulled the blanket up higher. He considered the best way to get her shirt off without waking her up any more than she already was, but decided just to let it alone. It didn't look nearly as uncomfortable as the jeans did.
He lay back down, cradling her against his shoulder, his fingers lightly brushing her hair until he was sure she'd fallen back to sleep. Finally, he kissed her lips, and slipped out of the bed, grabbing his belt on the way to the back door.
***
Michaelangelo didn't knock. He probably should have, but he didn't. Hell, if Raph really wanted to keep him out of his room, the door would be locked anyways. But it wasn't. He opened it as casually as he could, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. Only then did he allow the slightest hint of frustration to show, not paying much attention to his brother's presence on the bed.
Raph ignored the sudden intrusion, his back to the door. He knew who it was, and he didn't really care that he'd let himself in. His mind was preoccupied with other things. He trusted her now. The more he thought about that, the more it confused him. Trusted her enough to consider her a friend. That wasn't something that happened often, and he wasn't really sure when it had happened.
It took Mike a minute, a few deep breaths, then he glanced at his brother. "Hey Raph, you wanna get outta here? I'm goin' friggin' stir crazy and I... need a drink or something. Buy you one? Please?" His voice was pleading. He wasn't angry at the lecture he'd just received, but he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. It took so little to bring about the "concern" over him. He didn't do half the shit Raph did, and he was the one they were worried about?
Raph barely glanced over his shoulder before laying back down again. He wasn't really keen on going anywhere tonight, even if he did enjoy Mike's company out of all of them. "I dunno, Mikey... I'm not really in the mood."
Mike couldn't help but feel a bit concerned at his brother's tone. But the concern got washed away in the words still echoing in his head. "Raph, please? I gotta get outta here and if I go out alone, they're just gonna worry and lecture more and if I come back smelling like alcohol...?" He moved closer and dropped to his knees at the side of the bed. "Please please please please..." He'd adopted the childlike, nagging tone he'd used years ago to get his way. It had usually worked then... "This is me begging... please let's get the hell outta here. You know people. I so need to get laid."
Raph just grunted and curled up into a tighter ball. Getting drunk and getting laid were two of the last things on his mind at the moment, oddly enough. He remained still, and didn't answer. He wasn't really in the mood for this conversation, even though he knew Mike wouldn't leave him alone until he got what he wanted.
"Please please please please please please..."
Raph grumbled quietly and curled up into a tighter ball. This was getting annoying, but he knew it'd only get worse and he was less in the mood for "worse" than he was the current situation. With a heaving sigh, he sat up and reached over to clamp a hand on Mike's mouth. "All right, all right, we'll go, just shut it, eh?"
Mike was on his feet in an instant. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you! I just spent an hour listening to how I need to be more careful about wandering out alone and I don't need to encourage any more of those lectures by walking out of here but I so need to get out. I feel like I've been locked up in here for days and actually I have. I don't think I've been out of the lair since..."
Michaelangelo continued to ramble a mile a minute. His brother gave him a look before grumbling and walking out of the room. He followed, still talking, as Raph got his hat and jacket on. He'd never shut up, but at least he'd quiet down about getting out of the lair. It wasn't what Raph had wanted to do, but staying here and listening to Mike beg him to go out was something he wanted to do even less. "You comin' or not?"
Mike shut up long enough to grab his "outdoor clothes" and put them on. "I'm goin' for a run with Raph!" he called loudly, so that those who had lectured him a few moments ago would be sure to hear. "We'll be back later!"
Raph held back the urge to throttle his brother for announcing their departure to everyone in range, not any more in the mood for that than he was anything else. He slipped out of the lair and into the dark tunnels to wait for Mike, not saying a word.
Mike calmed down a little once he was out in the tunnels. It helped just to get out. He knew it would. He might have been content to just go himself, whether or not that held the prospect of getting laid, but that would have only invited more "concern" and the last thing he needed was to dig the hole deeper. He knew something was bothering Raph, but he'd figure out what later. Right now, his thought process was pretty limited. "I don't get it." His voice was quiet, like he was thinking out loud. "I've been training just as long as we all have and why is it that I'm so incapable of taking care of myself? I mean, a little bit of worry... yeah. That's nice. Lets you know they care. But for cryin' out loud... when is it too much?"
Raph grunted a bit, knowing that he couldn't change them or their emotions any more than Mike could. He wasn't going to try and he wasn't going to say any more than he had to. Mike didn't really care that Raph wasn't talking. He'd care more when they settled down and had a few drinks but for now, he just needed to vent. "What do they want? I mean, it's not like I can prove myself 'cause I'm always gonna be this little kid in their eyes. Do I have to stand up and outright rebel before they even... try to understand?" His tone held a definite air of sadness. He didn't want to rebel like that. He didn't want to fight with his family. He'd tried so hard to be everything he should be for so long, it seemed stupid to throw it all aside like that because they were treating him the way they always had.
Raph gave another little grunt. He didn't know what to tell Mike. Raph had given up long ago in trying to make them understand. And he knew Mike had it worse. It didn't matter what he did, they'd still treat him like the baby. He couldn't make them understand, they'd have to come to that conclusion on their own. All Raph could do was try and help him out in the mean time.
He led the way through the tunnels until he came up onto the streets near his favorite bar. Mike fell silent as they reached the streets. He was ungodly tense; a little less frustrated now than he'd been fifteen minutes ago, but in no way ready to swing from the chandeliers. He was grateful to slip into the darkness of the bar, where there were no masks to wear and no expectations to live up to. "Get what you want," he mumbled. "It's on me tonight."
Raph slipped into the bar and over to his usual table, grunting softly as he ordered a beer. Just a beer. He wasn't one for anything fancy or expensive. "Yeah. Thanks, Mike."
Mike ordered a Long Island Iced Tea. It wasn't exactly a usual for him, but he knew it was the fastest way to get drunk on something he could stand the taste of. Normally, he stuck with the sweet mixes, but at this point, he was less concerned with taste than relaxation. He held his forehead in his hands as the waitress walked away, and sighed deeply. Raph glanced over at him as he sipped his beer. He watched as Mike's eyes turned outward from the table and scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. There were none. He'd probably been here a dozen times, but he didn't know any of these people as far as he could tell. "Anyone you know?" he asked absently, not particularly interested in an answer.
Raph took a brief glance around and shook his head. He didn't see anyone he knew and it was probably for the best. "Nah. So what do you want me here for, Mikey? You obviously didn't drag me out here for the company."
Mike rubbed his forehead and grabbed the drink off the table. He downed about half of it in record time, then glanced up at his brother, breathing deep. "Actually? I did. I'm a goddamn prisoner unless I got someone to babysit me." Mike's eyes dropped before he managed a full scowl. "I just needed to get out and goin' out alone wasn't an option," he mumbled.
Raph set the mug down and sighed. This wasn't like his brother. Mike was usually more cheerful and carefree than this. Was he all that bothered by it? "Why wasn't going out alone an option?"
Mike shot him a sad look. "You haven't been listening to a word I said, did you?" he realized.
Raphael shrugged. "You don't have to listen to that crap, y'know. You're an adult, you can make your own damn decisions."
Mike sighed and took another drink. "Yeah, I know. I can make my owcisicisions and freak them all out and then what? Raph, you know damn well..." He sighed deeply, and that thought trailed off. "I'm not like you," he continued quietly. "And I can't be like you." His voice dropped even lower as he swirled the liquid in his glass. "Sometimes I wish I could be. But I... need them more than you do. You know? I can't..." He growled slightly, frustrated at himself more than anything, and took another drink. "I dunno. I don't wanna talk about it."
Raph just nodded and took another gulp of his beer. If Mike didn't want to talk about it, then he wouldn't talk about it. He wasn't going to think too long on his brother's problems when he had his own to deal with.
Mike sighed, and searched for something else to talk about. This would blow over. It always did. Tomorrow, it wouldn't matter one way or another, and he could deal with things then. He could already feel the alcohol beginning to kick in, and it calmed him. "So... snce Splinter an' Leo - an' Don for that matter - were reamin' me out instead of you... I take it it's something else you got on your mind."
Raph sighed, not wanting to talk about this, but he knew it would eventually come up. It wouldn't take them long to figure out he was thinking about something else when he wasn't being his usual rebellious self, antagonizing everyone. When they had to go and ream Mike out, yeah, there was something up with him. "Yeah. So?"
Mike shrugged. He wasn't going to pry. But the silence stretched a little too long and he decided that yes, he was. "Got anything to do with Ivy? You just missed her tonight. She was there for about an hour and a half."
Raph burped softly in reply and took another sip of his beer. Ivy. Now there's something he wasn't sure he wanted to think about. But it beat his confusion over her and uncomfortable silence that was certain to fall if he didn't answer. "No. S'not Ivy."
Mike nodded slightly. Raph wasn't offering any indication of what it was, so he decided to stick with Ivy for the time being. "She seems... a little obsessive. Pretty but... yeah. Obsessive." He took another long drink.
Raph snorted, trying not to laugh as he took another drink. "That's the understatement of the year, y'know that, Mike?"
Mike shrugged. "She's nice, though. At least she's not some psycho chic who's, like, gonna try'n kill you or somethin. Like that one chick in Fatal Attraction. Glenn Close?" Mike snickered. "I don't think Ivy's the type to be boiling rabbits on our stove..."
Raph chuckled and rolled his eyes as he finished his beer, ordering another a few seconds after he flagged down the waitress. "Mike, where's she gonna find rabbits where we live, huh?" It wasn't like he'd be worried even if she was a psycho. He'd run into plenty of those before, too, and he didn't know what was worse. The clingy, obssessive type, or the psycho stalker type.
Mike grinned, and shrugged. "Well, it's the concept of the thing. She would've boiled a cat if it would've made the point." He frowned. "And if you ever bring home a girl like that I'm gonna hafta stop speaking to you."
Raph shook his head and sipped at his second beer. "I don't bring my girls home, Mike, you know that. This one just...followed."
Mike cocked his head slightly to the side, disbelieving. "You seriously expect me to believe that she just followed you home? I can't believe Leo bought that one..."
Raph glared at him. "Yeah, Mike, I seriously expect you to believe it. I didn't bring her home. I didn't tell her where we lived. She just followed."
Mike stared at him for a moment, not sure how to take that. He finally decided Raph was being serious. "God damn. You must've been really smashed. How did you...?" He looked away, shaking his head slightly. He wasn't going to lecture, but he couldn't believe that Raph could be so careless. He would've rather believed that Raph had brought her down.
Raph looked over at his brother over the top of his mug. "How did I what?"
Mike glanced back and eyed Raph for a moment. If he was asking, he wasn't gonna get pissed. "How did you let yourself get that drunk? I mean, what if you'd run into... I dunno. Someone. Your girlfriend following you is the last of your worries if you do that on a frequent basis..."
Raph grumbled and took a sip of his beer. "Look, Mikey... I don't remember. I don't want to remember, ok?"
Mike shrugged. He could feel the alcohol clouding his thoughts. "Oh, c'mon. Couldn'ta been that bad a memory." He looked away, almost disinterested in what he was saying. "If she got you that drunk, I imagine there was a little recreation in the process. And she is pretty hot." He realized he was beginning to ramble - he was getting a little tipsy - but didn't stop himself. "You really should be a little nicer to her. She'd be more receptive."
Raph glowered at Mike at the mention of such a thing. "You know me, Mike. I don't do nice."
Mike shrugged. "Yeah, I know. But she's a nice girl." He offered a hooded glance at his brother. "An' I'd feel a lot better if I knew you were gonna either treat her good or break up with her." Mike knew that was none of his business, and he wasn't trying to pick a fight. He was just musing out loud.
Raph snorted and sipped his drink again. He didn't care about Ivy and he wondered when his family was going to get that. Following him around was gonna get her killed someday and even though he didn't care about her as any sort of love interest, he did care about her as a person. "How many times do I have t'tell you, Mike? She ain't my girlfriend. Never was."
Mike shrugged slightly. "Well, she thinks she is. That's what matters. If you'd just break up with her, hell I wouldn't mind goin' a few rounds with her."
Raph shook his head. "Go right ahead, Mikey. You can have 'er. But be careful 'cause you ain't gonna get rid of her when you do."
Mike sighed. "I'm just kidding Raph. I dunno. Nonea my business. I just wish you'd break her heart and get it over with."
Raph sighed a little. "How many different ways can I break up with her before she gets it?" he challenged. "How do you break up with someone who was never your girl to begin with? Hell, it ain't my fault she's deluded herself into thinking I care anything about her."
"She didn't just delude herself into it, Raph, and you know it," Mike answered quietly, taking another slow drink. "You played her an' you know how I feel about that so we don't even need to go there. I don't wanna fight with you."
Raph sighed heavily again. He didn't want to fight, either. Not with Mike. So what if he played her? He did it all the time. She wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last. Mike knew that. "Mikey... you know me."
Mike nodded and kept his mouth closed. He could feel his mind clouding over, and turned his attention to the crowd in the bar, ignoring the rest of this conversation. Raph finished his drink and rose, making sure his hat was on and his coat was wrapped tightly around himself. The last thing he needed was for someone else to see him and follow him home. If he'd had any idea Ivy would be that clingy, he'd never have gotten that drunk. But he'd deal with that later. For now, Mike looked like he needed to get laid and he knew just the girl.
"If you're lookin' for more action than you're getting in my company, you might wanna check out the redhead at the bar. Fae likes sweet guys like you."
Mike half smirked at his brother. "Thanks. Do me a favor an' put Leo to bed before I get home, will ya?"
Raph chuckled softly as he turned towards the door. "Yeah. Even if I have to drag him there," he smirked. "See you later, Mikey."
Mike waved halfheartedly and downed the last of his drink with a sigh.
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For Love or Freedom