Nirvana

Etoku


CHAPTER TWO



There are times
When I'm just a shell
Where I do not feel
Anything for anyone
All I feel
Is hollow and bruised
Used up and misused
Forced to be someone
I don't want to be

Have I failed
Somehow or someway
Will the weight of today
Finally pull me down to drown
In the depths of despair
Where I am alone
Except for my rage?

My rage
My pain

I hate my darkest days

-"Darkest Days", Stabbing Westward



The cause of suffering...
"We all had needs, of course. That is a simple fact of life. Everyone longs for material happiness and the fulfillment of their wishes and desires. It's only natural. Even Leo, with his calm, controlled demeanor was known to wallow in self-pity, and there were times when his overzealousness took control. He was so concerned with perfection and the way others perceived him, that he was often times blinded by his quest for approval and self-worth. I was certainly no exception. In my childish ignorance, I had plenty of desires of my own. I had this nagging, unrelenting need to discover who we were, why we were here, what made the world go around. And in my quest for answers, I at times became obsessed with the idea of recognition and praise. If I could only figure out how it worked, and why, then maybe I would be accepted in the world of humans. Maybe I would win some prized reward for my efforts, become famous. Perhaps we would no longer have to live in seclusion and hiding. Maybe I could make this world better for us all.

As for Mike...well, he was the dreamer of the family. Every minor success was another reason to be happy. Joy came easy for him. He only had to follow his senses. He was fascinated by everything around him - the sites, sounds, smells, tastes. His love for food introduced him to the art of cooking. Good thing too. He was the only one of us who knew how to prepare a decent meal. Soon his creativity soared to new heights, and he took up drawing and writing. He was great at those things. He could express himself on paper like none other I've ever seen. His biggest downfall, however, was his aversion to pain. He often times refused to allow himself to experience anguish or sorrow. But when he did, those feelings came out full force. Mike was the most emotional of us all, and as a result, he did his best to cover up the negativity and fill himself with positive energy. It was only a matter of time however, before all of that emotional stuffing began to ooze out and come to the surface."

Donatello wiped the moisture from his eyes and stared out the window, studying the many bright pinpoints of light that dotted the darkened horizon. And for a brief moment, he wondered if they were up there somewhere, shedding their light and memories down on him.

"Yes," he said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "living beings do indeed have needs and wishes. How far we let those desires take us, however, is another matter entirely...

********

"Chet, increase texture mapping by fifty percent."

As the computer accessed the extra graphics from the VR program, the scene sparked to life around him. Donatello suddenly found himself in the basement of April's apartment building, fifty-eight years previous. It was stunningly realistic in every detail, from the boxes of junk they had brought from their destroyed lair, to the humongous spider web that decorated the northeast corner. He stared from the cracked concrete walls to the staircase that led up to the world outside, then to his brothers who began to appear like ghosts before his very eyes.

As he examined the shadowy form of Raphael, he remembered how his brother could lose his temper at the drop of a hat.

"Raphael was different from the rest of us. There was something inside of him that just refused to let any of us get too close. Try as we might, with all of our strength and power, we could not knock down those steel walls. In fact, most of the time, we didn't even seem to put a dent in them.

He was so intense, he sometimes didn't realize what he was doing until it was too late, and he ended up hurting those he cared most about."

He wasn't sure he wanted to see this again, but he knew he needed to. It was the only way to put it past him.

"We lived here for several months." He was speaking more to himself than to Chet. "It wasn't much to look at, but it was a place we could call home until we found Splinter. He'd been missing for several weeks by this time, and we were all worried sick. I was beginning to think we'd never see him again. When we'd arrived back at the lair that evening, we found it in shambles. Splinter wasn't anywhere to be found, but his walking stick was laying in a pool of blood, cracked and broken. Baxter's mousers had gotten to him. We'd spent all day helping April defeat that mad scientist. And now it looked as though our heroism had a price."

Donatello closed his eyes and swallowed. "I'm only glad that the Utroms found him. It's ironic that the very aliens who turned us into the freaks we are, and changed the very scope of our lives forever, were also the ones who were determined to save them."

He sucked in a slow, shaky breath, and tried to focus on soothing thoughts. His nerves had been on edge ever since his brothers first appeared before him like ghosts early this morning. Looking back on the past had proven to be more painful than he'd imagined. It was no wonder he'd kept it bottled up and pushed to the back of his mind for so long.

He opened his eyes again and stared at the artificial room that enclosed him. Boxes of clutter and old appliances had been pushed aside to make room for a large training area in the center of the floor. Luckily, no one lived below them. It could get quite noisy. He stared at himself and his brothers, who were standing there like statues frozen in time. It was as if they were hanging on his every word, anxiously awaiting his command. With a deep breath, he said calmly, "Begin."

"That--that was a LUCKY PUNCH, Mike!" The familiar sound of Raphael's voice flooded the room, sending a shiver down Donatello's spine. He watched as the determined turtle sprang into action, his fist making contact with Mike's chin. "You think you're so good--"

"Raph..." As Michaelangelo spoke this familiar plea of protest, Donatello's focus suddenly became disconnected from the scene around him, and violent images began to flash through his mind. He saw a shiny metal chain connecting two thick wooden sticks, swinging wildy against a black sky, a trenchcoat flapping madly in the wind, a pair of angry eyes, glossy from fresh tears, a sickening pool of thick red blood...

Swallowing, he fought to rid himself of the images, and instead concentrated on the events that were unfolding before him. Raphael was advancing again. There would be no stopping him until the fight was over. He was determined to win.

"Ooof!" Mike doubled over as Raph's fist made contact with his chest plate.

Mischief filled Raphael's features. "But you can't beat me!" Another punch, this time bruising Mike's cheek. "Not now...not EVER!"

Don's heart began to race as he watched Raphael charge again, remembering this moment as if it had only been yesterday. This time Mike was ready for him. As Raph made contact, Mike grabbed him by the arms and tossed him over his shoulders.

"Oh really? You're too cocky, Raph!" He watched as his brother crashed into an old endtable, splintering it in two, and breaking a lamp. "Pride goeth before a fall, buddy...!" Mike grinned in satisfaction. He was obviously enjoying this.

Raphael got up quickly, anger and frustration burning brightly in his eyes now. It was clear that play time was over. "Arr...Grrr!" He let out a growl and moved toward Michaelangelo. "NO!!"

The terror welled up in Donatello as he watched Raphael advance yet again. He could hear the blood pounding in his head, feel the sweat beading on his palms. As he stared into those dark, cold eyes, he knew what was about to happen, and it still haunted him. If only he'd been more careful. If only he'd put his tools away after fixing that water pipe.

Raphael glanced around the room, searching for a weapon, anything he could use to win and show Mike he was the better ninja. His eyes seemed to glow with an eery brightness as he picked up one of Don's old rusty wrenches.

"NO--", he protested again. "Y--you--CHEATED!"

Don's younger self was standing with Leo, a safe distance away from the brawl, trying to piece together some of their things. "We've got to sound-proof this cellar." He heard himself say. His voice sounded so young, so naive. He hadn't been too worried about their sparring match at the time. He'd seen Raphael and Michaelangelo go at it before. If only he'd realized then what Raphael was capable of...

"Yeah..." Leo watched them apprehensively. "I'd better quiet those guys down before--Hey!"

Something shiny had caught Leo's eye, and now Don spotted it too. Raph was gripping something metal, and by the looks of it, he was planning on hitting Michaelangelo with it. Leo rushed forward, determined to stop the derrainged turtle before he did anything foolish.

"You didn't BEAT ME!!!" Raphael swung the wrench, just missing Mike's head. Luckily, Mike ducked it into his shell just in time.

"Hey, Raph--cool it!" Mike's eyes were filled with wonder and disbelief. "It's just practice!" He blocked the attack and stepped back quickly, preparing himself for what may come next. Raph lifted his hand again for another attack, and was just about to strike when something grabbed his shoulder.

"Raphael, don't!" The turtle glanced up, startled, and suddenly snapped back to reality as his eyes met with Leo's. "What do you think YOU'RE DOING!!?"

Suddenly, the wrench was snatched from his grasp. He turned to face Leo, to stare into those condeming eyes. "Raphael--HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!"

The anger in Raphael's eyes dissapeared, only to be replaced with guilt and the fear of what he'd almost done. He took a step back, his expression apologetic. "I--Leo--Mike--I--"

Leonardo held up the wrench. "You could have KILLED Mike if you'd hit him with this! RAPHAEL, we're ALL tense--Splinter's gone, we're living in a strange new place--but you can't fly off the handle like that!"

Raphael, terrified by his own actions, was rendered speechless.

"Now GET OUT OF HERE AND COOL OFF!"

Raph searched for an explaination that would redeem his actions, but he found none. "Leo--I--I--"

"GO!"

There was nothing left to say. He'd lost it, and he knew it. There was no excuse for what he'd done. Raphael fled up the stairs and burst through the old wood door with a loud crack. A gust of cold wind poured into the room, chilling Don to the bone. An empty silence followed.

"Leo..." Mike's face was filled with terror. "Did you see his eyes?"

"Chet..." Donatello had seen enough. "Freeze program."

The scene suddenly became chillingly still once again. As he stared at their solid, frozen forms, it reminded him of death, and a chill went up his spine. He glanced at the expressions on their faces, their eyes filled with terror and surprise. He remembered the guilt that had ensued after Raphael left and his own panicked nerves had calmed down.

"It was my fault." He told Chet.

The computer voice sprang to life.

^^DONATELLO, I DO NOT UNDERSTAND...^^

"It was my wrench." He said softly, the regret gripping him again, even after all this time. "If only I hadn't been so careless."

Don was silent for a while, then he said softly, "The truth of it was, we were lucky. Raphael didn't hit Mike with the wrench. Leo stopped him on time. But, despite his hard exterior, Raphael had a hard time controlling his emotions. There was something inside of him that was wild and untame. This rage and unrelentless anger scared him sometimes, and that made him lash out even more.

His romp into the night wasn't without it's benefits, however. It won us a strong ally--Casey Jones."

Donatello smiled fondly as he thought about his old human friend. "Casey was a real tough guy, a regular vigilante. Raphael found him in the park, trying to beat the snot out of a couple of car stereo thieves. They were only kids. Raph was determined to stop this guy before he did more damage than good.

But through that rough outer appearance, Casey had a good heart, like Raphael. He was the only one Raphael had ever come into contact with whose personality almost exactly reflected his own. And in him, he saw his anger, his energy, his ability to over-react, and he realized how dangerous it could really be. It had taught Raph a lesson, and from then on, he tried not to be so intense. Of course, he didn't always succeed."

********

"Looking back now, I can relate to his pain and anger. I believe we all felt it to a certain degree, we just had distinct ways of dealing with it. He hated being different, living a life of seclusion in the dark, disease infested sewers. He despised the humans for forcing us to exist that way, when we had just as much right to survive as they did. He felt as though he was trapped, like his sense of self expression and worth were being suffocated under society's ideals. The fact that his fleshly needs would almost certainly go unsatisfied was a grim reminder of how different we really were. For a long while, April was really the only woman we knew. But aside from her aliance, she had her own life to live as well. And over time, we came to think of her as more of a sister than anything else. Besides, she had Casey.

Raphael hated to be confined. He had too much raw energy and deep-rooted will. He needed open space, freedom to think and do as he pleased. That's not to say he didn't need us. His temper and inability to cope proved that he would find it hard to make it on his own. But he needed his privacy as well, a chance to explore the world, to get to know himself.

Leonardo understood the passion that drove Raphael. He knew what it was like to want something that was so out of reach. But he realized that the world was not a safe place for mutants and those who were considered different. And, keeping with Splinter's teachings, he also believed that we should be happy with what life gave us, and not go after things we were never meant to have. He forbade Raph to wander off too far alone, but quite frequently, his warnings were ignored. Raphael was determined not to let anyone be the boss over him. He lived for danger and excitement. Master Splinter was the only one who could even begin to convince him that he needed to be careful. He was the only one Raphael truly respected and honored. We knew that Master Splinter was much wiser than ourselves, and he only wanted what was best for us. Even at that, a simple discussion occasionally developed into an argument, and softly spoken words of warning sometimes led to harsh disagreements before the conversation was over.

When it came to Leo, those acrimonious words sometimes turned to violence. Raphael felt as though Leo didn't understand him, not because he couldn't relate, but becase he didn't want to. He decided long ago that Leo was too caught up in his own little fantasy of perfection and honor to see the big picture. He felt as though he was blinded by his ideals of what he saw as the perfect lives for us, and thus couldn't see the urgency of what was going on around him, or perhaps refused to accept it. They were like two positively charged ions, so much alike that they constantly drove one another away. I remember one conversation, many winters ago, very well..."

********

"Leo's lost it..."

Raphael had been going on for twenty minutes already about the fact that their refuge in Casey's old farmhouse was completely useless and insane. He thought they should have headed back to New York a long time ago. He was growing homesick, and he was becoming angry at the gnawing idea that they were hiding from their enemies. "He's scared. He can no longer lead us."

The door slammed open suddenly, and a gust of chilly wind poured in, sending Don's papers skattering across the floor. "What?!!" Raphael glanced up angrily, to stare at the shadowed figure in the doorway. "What's the problem, Raph?"

"You heard me!" Raphael snapped. "You're the problem...Leo. This sucks...I hate feeling this way! You know we have to go back...We're dying here, rotting from the inside out, and it's your fault! We wait and wait...and yet you do NOTHING! If you won't do the right thing--I will!" Raphael pushed Leo out of his way with a hard shove, and headed toward the doorway.

"But Leo stopped him. He always insisted that we do everything as a team. If one of us strayed, it would jeopardize our entire clan. It angered Raphael that Leonardo was so set in his ways. But we all knew that Leo had his reasons."

"Oh man...you make me SICK!" Raphael turned, even more angered then before, and shoved the katana away from him. In fury, he turned to Leo, his eyes burning into him as he brought his face closer, their beaks almost touching. "Wake up and smell the roses, big boy, this ain't no dude ranch, or rehab clinic for down and out ninjas. We're hiding out here!" As he thought about that for a moment, he decided it wasn't entirely true. "No...YOU'RE hiding out here...scared to face facts." He drove a firm, accusing finger into Leo's plastron. "...and you're dragging us all down with you!" Another poke, as if to emphasize his point. "Fun and games are over chump. Look at yourself! You are a coward. I'm going back...alone."

He turned to leave, but before he could even journey a couple of steps, Leonardo leapt into the air above Raphael's head and landed directly in his path. With anger in his eyes, he lowered the katana, gripping it with both hands, and held it across Raphael's plastron, barring him from leaving. "I said no."

Raphael glared down at the katana, then rose his eyes to meet Leo's. "Mistake." he said bitterly.

"A fight ensued. It was difficult to keep track of who had the upper hand. Both were determined to subdue the other. Raphael's fists and feet were flying with punches and kicks, most of which Leo ducked. But finally, a powerful punch to Raphael's jaw sent him sprawling backward on the floor."

"You were always good, Leo...one of the best..." Raphael mumbled, rubbing his burning jaw. "which makes life here even more of a crime." Slowly, he rose to his feet again, ready to take Leo on. "You owe us, man..."

Donatello shook his head. "Good ol' Raphael. Always the accuser, never seeing the big picture Leo was trying to paint for us."

He moved to the window again to stare at the placement of the stars and moon. Night time was always so beautiful. It reminded him of years gone by, of hours spent romping and playing on the darkened rooftops above empty, deserted streets. It was getting late. In a few hours, it would be morning. But he knew he would never be able to sleep.

"They were both so stubborn." he mumbled. "Damn them...why couldn't they just try to understand one another?"

After a drawn out fight, Leonardo had the upper hand. He stood behind Raphael, his arms wrapped tightly around the turtle's neck. "You're NOT leaving--do you hear me?!"

But Raphael still refused to give up. Struggling to breathe, he reached his arms back, swinging wildly, and made contact with Leo's face. The surprise and force knocked Leo away, giving Raphael just enough time to break free.

Still stunned from the blow, Leonardo was caught unaware as Raphael lifted him up over his head with almost super-human strength, and hurled him across the room.

A bone curdling crack pierced the air as Leonardo crashed right through the wooden wall. A soft groan escaped him before he was rendered silent and motionless.

Horrified, Donatello rushed toward the rubble. "Leo!!"

Michaelangelo was astounded by his brother's actions, and a little afraid of what he might do next, but he knew it would be bad if he let Raphael leave. "Raph, wait...!"

"Don't even THINK about it, Mike!"

"I couldn't believe what Raphael had done. He'd been mad plenty of times before, especially at Leo, but he'd never done anything like this. I was horrified at the ease with which he displayed his violent tendencies. I vowed to myself that I would never be like that. No matter what enemy we faced, or how tense things became between me and my brothers, I would never choose violence over a peaceful compromise.

With some rest and bandages, Leonardo was fine in no time, but that picture of his still form lying in the rubble, the glint in Raph's eyes, still burns freshly in my mind. It's something I'll never forget."




"Lucindra was excellent at hand-to-hand...one of the best we'd come across, in fact. Her medium was street fighting, but she had the skills of a well trained martial artist, and the physique and concentration to match. She wasn't a small or frail woman by any means. She stood at least a good head taller than the rest of us, and she was built solid. That's not to say she wasn't attractive. Her finely toned musculature and chiseled face rewarded her with a unique beauty.

Raphael had been distant as of late. He was going through one of his dreaded 'loner' phases again. He decided he needed a change, some time away from us. He found her in the newspaper. There was an ad for a sparring partner. It intrigued him, and, possessing a craving for danger, he decided to call. He was even more surprised when the voice that answered was female. That was the last thing he expected. They'd talked for a while. She told him about her weight training, her life in the projects, all of the self defense classes she had taken. He told her about Master Splinter and about his ninja skills, and despite all of Leo's previous warnings, he told her he was a Ninja Turtle.

She'd been pretty surprised about that. At first, she thought he might be part of some strange religious group, but after much explaining, she came to realize he wasn't joking around. The first night they'd met in that deserted alleyway proved to be a moment of discovery for them both."

********

She gathered the coat tighter around her body, blocking out the chill wind. Wrinkling her forehead, she stared with wonder at the sillhouette of a squatty figure slowly approaching. It was hard to tell anything from this distance. The heavy disguise only helped shadow the person under the moonless night. All she could make out was the tan fedora, which was matched by a long trenchcoat that billowed about at the figure's ankles. Something resembling a tote bag hung from it's left shoulder. It continued to walk slowly toward her, stopping only when it reached the outer limits of the bright yellow light that poured dimly from a crooked streetlamp. She stood there in silence, quietly summing him up, deciding she could take him if necessary.

"Lucindra?"

She stared at the man skeptically. It did sound like the voice she spoke to on the phone, but she wanted to be sure. Growing up on the streets had taught her some things about caution. "Raphael?"

He took a step toward her, allowing the light to shine down on the brim of the hat, his intense eyes glowing brightly up at her from its shadows. "Call me Raph."

A small smile twisted her mouth. "So, you really a turtle, Raff?"

She could see his grin illuminate the darkness, showing off two wide rows of white teeth. "You really wanna know?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Check it, kay? I'm not afraid of you, so spill it."

His grin widened. He was already starting to like this girl. "Fine then. You ready to get your butt kicked?"

"By you?" She laughed. How could such a small little man be so cocky?

Without another word, Raphael pulled the bag from his shoulder, and tossed it to the side. The hat and coat quickly followed. As he stepped into the exposure of the streetlamp, the yellow light flooded over him, revealing the green skin, toned biceps, and the crimson mask, which was the only thing that covered the reptilian face and shadowed the intensity of his soulfull gray eyes.

Lucindra was silent for a moment. She had prepared herself for this, but she hadn't really believed it would be true. She was standing before a real live turtle - one that could stand upright and talk. And if his muscles said anything for his fighting style, she might be in for a little competition afterall.

He stood there for a long moment, unmoving except for his eyes, which scanned the length of her. He stared first at her face, slightly wary of him, but it had an underlying kindness and confidence that was unmistakable. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face into a neat ponytail, emphasizing her dark eyes as they stared back at him. They lingered on his face for a while, and then slowly moved downward to study the muscles of his arms and legs. She was scrutinizing him, and he liked it.

As she took off her coat, he let his sight fall to her newly bared shoulder, which was covered only by a thin strap of green material, showing off the size of her biceps. She was well built. She had the looks of a real fighter. This intrigued him even more. For a brief moment, his eyes traveled inward to stare at the way her body curved under the tight, midriff tanktop, leaving little to the imagination. She wore a thick thread around her neck, from which hung a rounded piece of leather that bore the symbol of Africa. She was obviously proud of her heritage.

Under the toned muscles of her stomach, the shape of the rest of her body was well defined. A pair of tight leggings showed off every curve and muscle. When he'd first thought about fighting a woman, he thought it would be easy, but now her looks alone were beginning to prove him wrong.

Raphael reached into his bag and pulled out a sparring chest pad. He hated wearing these things. He felt like it indicated weakness. But he had to be careful. If Lucindra did prove to be a worthy opponent, there was a good chance he could get scraped up, and he didn't want Leo or any of the rest of his family to know he'd been fighting.

He glanced up at her, a mischevious grin spreading across his face. She smiled back, the confidence in her eyes shining even brighter than before. Raphael took a step back, sliding into a ready, defensive stance.

"Go ahead. Take your best shot."

Lucindra smirked at him and repositioned her weight. "You sure, Raff? Cuz I don't wanna hurt you or nothin'."

Raph grinned again. "You? Hurt me?"

"Well, you are a turtle, y'know..."

"Oh?" He glared up at her. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," she smiled. "Just...this!"

She sent a punch flying toward Raphael, and he ducked out of the way just on time, catching her by the elbow and sending her over his shoulder. She hit the ground hard, but was sitting up in a matter of seconds.

"Woah, Raff, you got some rill dope moves! I like the way you fight."

Raphael smirked at her and offered her his hand. "You tried to catch me off guard, but I was ready for you. I'm always ready."

They continued to spar late into the night. Both fought equally well, but Raphael had grown over confident after his early victory, which gave Lucindra the edge she needed. Several hours and many bruises later, they'd decided to call it quits. Lucindra had gone down once. Raphael had fallen twice.

"He lost that night. It was a close fight, but he had still been beaten. Defeat wasn't something he was used to. And having been beaten by a woman had really bruised his ego. What made it worse was that she wasn't even ninja.

He didn't tell any of us about Lucindra, but somehow, we all knew. He began to disappear a lot, always at night, and soon it became three nights a week or more. He'd be gone for hours at a time, without even so much as an explaination. He came home exhausted, smelling of sweat and sewage, and he was unusually distant, even for Raphael. If one of us tried to talk to him about it, he'd clam up, mumble something about being tired, and head for the shower. Afterwards, he locked himself up in his room for the night. I could tell Leo was worried about him. He hardly ever showed up for practice anymore, and when he did, we could tell his heart just wasn't in it."

********

"As the nights went on, they began to see eachother more and more frequently. Each time, Raphael would pump himself up, give it his all, and each time, Lucindra ended up the victor.

Leonardo began to get on his case, reminding him that we were a team, and that we needed to practice as such. But Leo's speeches only seemed to drive him farther away. I remember one night, he came home clearly upset. Instead of heading off to be alone, he lingered near us, almost as if he was asking us to question him. Mike had just brought home some fresh baked pizza, but Raphael seemed uninterested.

'You okay?' I asked him. 'You love pepperoni.'

He was on edge. 'I lost a fight Don.' I don't think I had ever heard those words come out of his mouth before. But there was something else, something that clearly shamed him to talk about. 'To a girl.'

'Oh.' I wasn't quite sure what to say, but something inside of me found it quite humorous. 'Got beat by a girl? Ha, you've lost your edge. She ninja at least? What's she like? Can you tell us her name? Please?'

He folded his arms across his chest and stared at me defiantly. 'No.'

'C'mon, Raph. Can we meet her??'

'My mistake.' He grumbled and turned to leave, but before he had the chance, another voice rang out, and he stood frozen in place.

'Yes. Please do tell us...' It was Splinter.

Raph turned quickly to face him. 'No, Splinter. Not now...'

But Splinter made him talk. Raphael was very apprehensive to tell us much about this girl at all. It seemed as though he was trying to protect her somehow, or maybe it was more that he was trying to keep his private life secret. None of us could really blame him for that. Most of us didn't even have a private life.

In some way, he seemed to relate to her. Maybe it was their shared interest in fighting, or the fact that they'd basically both grown up in poverty. Quite possibly it was the fact that neither of them got along real well with their brothers. In any case, he found himself thinking of her when they weren't together, and he grew impatient for the next meeting."

********

"We have to talk, Raphael. It's important."

"No. I'm busy. Perhaps some other--"

"No! Now! I am still the leader here. That much has not changed. Why have you been sneaking off to spar? We are brothers. Don't you trust us?"

"I have my own reasons."

"No good. We are a team. A family. We need each other for help, protection and support. We need you, Raphael. You can not go your separate way."

"Yeah..." Don sighed as he thought about this conversation, about everything it had meant at the time. Eventually, things had changed though. "Some family we turned out to be."

"It's personal." Raphael insisted. "I can't be cooped up down here. You wouldn't understand."

But Leo wasn't about to let up. "You crave danger? Excitement?"

"What are we, boring?" Don asked.

"To Raph." Mike grinned.

Raphael had just about enough. He turned to leave, but Leonardo grabbed him by the edge of his carapace.

"Yet, you lack discipline and forethought."

"Just great," Raphael whined. "A lecture."

"Our enemies are everywhere...you put her in constant danger. You ever think of that?"

"No...no, I just..."

"You are obsessed with beating her...this obsession makes you weak. You have turned from us, brother. How can we trust you? You must never see her again."

"Raphael was angry at first. How dare Leo say such things to him? But as he thought about it, he realized he really was obsessed with beating her. Leo had been right. Only...it stemmed much deeper than that."

********

Not wishing to be found out, Raphael planned their next meeting very late at night. As soon as Lucindra arrived, he led her deep into the sewers, far away from the lair. Unbeknownst to them at the time, the Foot had been tracking her for several weeks by now, and they'd followed her here. Once they were far enough away to not be heard or seen, the enemy made themselves known, surrounding them on all sides.

It was a very uneven fight - thirty to two. Raphael knew their odds were bad, and he tried to protect her, but she wouldn't hear of it. Raphael was her friend, and besides, their attack was partially her fault. They worked together, Raphael with his sai, and Lucindra open handed as usual. They made a great team. As their enemies fell one by one, Raphael realized that Leo had been right all along. He should have never dragged Lucindra this far from the lair. He had put her life in danger. It had been a very irresponsible decision.

They were making short work of their enemies, but they were beginning to tire, and thus couldn't move quite fast enough.

"Raff! Look out!"

Something was whizzing past his head. Shuriken. Quickly, he moved in front of her, trying to block her from the attack. Several of the stars found their way into his right arm and leg, slicing him up pretty badly. Lucindra had been hit too, but not as severely. She watched in terror as Raphael slumped to the ground.

Lucindra was alone to fight off the remaining Foot, and she had problems of her own. The poison was starting to effect her system. She was slowing, becoming ever more groggy and disoriented. Yet, she carried on, knowing that Raphael needed her help.

"She carried Raph for several city blocks until she could walk no more. Luckily, we had been on their trail. When she spotted us, she thought we were more of the enemy, and she prepared to defend herself. Not wishing to cause her any further injury or upset her even more, Mike knocked her over the head, rendering her unconscious.

We rushed them to Splinter just on time. His tea and healing herbs worked their magic quickly, and soon Raphael was back on his feet. It was Lucindra that we were more concerned about. Splinter made Raphael tell us everything, from the night they'd met until their rumble with the Foot just a couple hours previous. As he told his tale, we made a dramatic desision. We would invite Lucindra to spar with us, to become ninja as we were. With her abilities, she would be a definite asset to our team. Finally, as she started to awaken, Splinter gave Raphael a fresh cup of tea for her and led us away.

To this day, I am unsure what happened to Lucindra. She obviously turned down our offer. Raphael never said much about what happened after we left. I always assumed that our plans didn't coincide with her own. I guess I'll never know now."

^^ACCESSING...LAST NAME THOMPKINS...FIRST NAME LUCINDRA...FIVE FILES FOUND...ONE
UNACCESSED^^

Donatello stared at the panel of circuits in awe. "Play it, Chet."

********

He found himself standing in a small, simple room. The old walls were worn, yet stable. Despite the condition of the matted brown carpet, Donatello could tell that she'd done her best to take care of this place. There were a few posters on the walls, but not much else. A bed, a nightstand, and a rickety dresser were the room's only furniture.

"This must be her bedroom." Donatello decided.

Chet did not respond.

("I knew I probably shouldn't have followed him, but I was worried.")

It was Michaelangelo's voice. This must have been a page from his diary.

("There was something in his eyes that went beyond depression, or even frustration. I just had to make sure he was okay.")

Lucindra suddenly appeared before him. From the looks of it, she had just gotten out of the shower. Her wet hair hung down her shoulders, and dripped onto the silky peach robe that was tied loosely around her waist.

A look of alarm crossed her face as a sound seemed to echo up the wall right outside the window. The fire escape! Was it her brother, Malcolm? No, even Malcolm wasn't that stupid. He had the key. He could enter through the front door.

Lucindra took a breath, keeping calm control of her emotions. She had trained herself for this. One could never be too careful in this neighborhood at night. She rushed to the living room and grabbed a ten pound barbell, mentally preparing herself to bash the person's head in if they tried anything funny. Still slightly woozy from the poisoned shuriken, she stumbled back to her bedroom and positioned herself at the side of the window, her back pressed firmly against the wall. Sucking in a breath, she waited...

After several minutes, her persuer finally made it to the top. She could sense his presence, and as he got nearer, she could make out the figure's dim shadow on the adjacent wall. A sound reverberated through the room. He was banging on the glass, trying to get her attention. Gasping, she gripped the barbell tighter and prepared to defend herself. But before she could lash out, she heard a familiar muffled voice calling out to her.

"Lucindra!"

"Raff?" Stunned, she turned to face the window, and could make out his stocky sillhouette in the moonlight. She dropped the barbell and unlatched the window, pulling it open quickly. The night air was warm and breezy, and as it flooded in, he sat there for a moment, noticing how it caught the ends of her long hair, and tossed the folds of the silk robe loosely around her. For an instant she looked vulnerable, helpless, and he found himself staring.

"Dammit, Raff, don't ever do that to me again, kay? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry." He said quietly. It was obvious there was something on his mind. "I just...I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?"

She made a motion with her hand that it was alright to enter. Slowly, almost warily, he jumped down from the window ledge and moved toward her.

Donatello watched in silence. Mike had been correct. Something in his eyes wasn't quite right.

("I couldn't have known...I just wanted to check on him. He'd been acting so strangely lately.")

Donatello stared in amused wonder as he noticed the top of Mike's head pop up in the window to watch them.

("I wish I would have never gone there. It was none of my business anyway.")

Lucindra's eyes were filled with curiosity as she looked at him. Her vision blurred for a moment, causing his predominately green body to look like a giant cucumber. Blinking, he slowly came back into focus, and she noticed the way he was staring at her. His eyes were dark, as if they held a dangerous secret. "So, what is it, homeshell? I hate to rush you, but I gotta book it for work."

"This." He held out his hand, showing her the necklace she'd given him.

"It's yours now, remember?" Lucindra shrugged. "Don't tell me you came all this way just to give it back."

"Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you give it to me?"

Lucindra thought for a moment. "It's always brought me luck, and I thought you could use some. I mean, with those bugged out ninjas on your tail--" She stopped upbruptly, noticing that fire in his eyes. "Raff? That's not really why you came here, is it?"

Raphael closed his hand around the necklace and shoved it into his coat pocket. "No."

"What is it? Is something wrong? Why are you buggin'?"

"I...I was worried about you." he said quickly. "I knew you were having trouble with your brother, and with the Foot after us and everything...well, I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Raff, check it, kay? I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl."

"I know, I just...that poison really knocked you out, and--"

("I knew that look in Raph's eyes.") Michaelangelo explained. ("There was something he was trying to hide...a secret, something he was too ashamed to voice.")

"Raff, just spill it, kay?"

He stared at her for a moment, as if gathering his courage and then said simply, "Reconsider."

"Reconsider?"

"Join us, Lucindra."

"Oh Raff, I told you--"

"You have skills we could really use." Raph went on, almost pleadingly. "We need you...I-- need you..."

She stared curiously into his eyes. Had he just said what she thought he'd said? Yes, he had, but of course he hadn't meant it that way.

"I know what you mean." she said softly.

He stared at her in skeptical anticipation. "You do?"

"Yeah...check it, you're the only one who seems to really understand me. We're alike on a lot of levels. We fight great together. Your moves keep me on my toes, and really let me get out my aggression. It's a great release, ya know?"

He took a step toward her. "So...you feel it too?"

"Well, yeah. Sparring with you is rill dope."

"I knew it." he said softly. "I knew it wasn't just me."

As he moved toward her, he faded out of focus again, and a waft of dizzyness overtook her. Lightheaded, she sank down onto the bed. For a moment, she was in another world, totally oblivious to what was happening around her. Her head was throbbing, and her shoulders and neck felt like they were on fire. Disoriented and uncomfortable, she tilted her head and began to knead her sore neck muscles.

Raphael sensed her discomfort. "You in pain?"

"Aw, it's nothing...just a little sore from scrapping with those wacked out ninjas."

"Here," he said gently, kneeling on the bed next to her. "Let me help."

"Raff, what are you--"

He moved behind her and laid his hands as gently on her shoulders as he could, his fingers barely touching the silky material. He sucked in a nervous breath. He was only fifteen years old. He'd never even touched a woman before, except for April, and that was only to grab her hand and lead her somewhere, or to wake her up in an emergency. As she glanced back at him quizzically, he found himself suddenly mezmerized. Her eyes narrowed in incertainty, and he gave her a little half smile for reassurance.

"Master Splinter taught us a little shiatsu massage, although I can't quite do it right, seeing as we don't have a futon and a lot of time."

"Raff, I'll be fine. I really don't need--"

"Shhh..." He allowed his hands to rest firmly on her shoulders, absorbing the warmth from beneath the robe. Swallowing, he slowly pressed his fingers into the base of her neck and began to knead the knotted muscles.

She lowered her chin and stared down at her hands, stretching the tendons in her neck as he worked. She really didn't have time for this, but what did it matter now? She'd missed almost her entire shift. She would have to make up the time this weekend anyway. Besides, she really was in pain, and Raphael seemed to know what he was doing. As his fingers pressed into her skin, she could already feel herself relaxing.

He brushed his fingers upward, along the back of her neck, noticing how the muscles tightened and hardened beneath his touch.

"Wow..." he said quietly. "You're tense."

She closed her eyes and could feel his ragged breath on the back of her neck. The warmth it provided was somehow reassuring. It reminded her of the many times they'd sparred, and she'd knocked him to the ground, breathing heavily in exhuastion and frustration.

"Don't forget to breathe." He said in a low voice as he moved his hands to her shoulders again. "Breathe slowly, try to clear your mind."

Lucindra kept her eyes shut and took in a deep breath, concentrating on the pain in her body, on the relief Raphael was providing. There was something about the way he moved, gentle and fluid, almost rythmically, that made her wish she could sit here like this for days.

He pressed his hands firmly against the base of her shoulder blades, moving them slowly down her back. She kept her chin lowered and let out a pleased moan as the tension began to ease.

"Just forget about everything." he whispered, his breath warm and soothing on her ear. "Concentrate on the healing power."

Lucindra didn't respond. Inhaling deeply again, her thoughts drifted to a soothing blue lake. The water was smooth and motionless, and very inviting. She stood there for a moment, just staring at it, enjoying the feel of the soft green grass between her toes.

The tension in her body began to release until she was hardly aware of it at all. Slowly, she took a step toward the placid water, knowing that if she could only wade in its depths, the pain would fade away.

Donatello was astounded. Was he seeing her thoughts? "Chet, what is this? How--"

^^I AM ONLY RELAYING THE INFORMATION I HAVE BEEN PROVIDED WITH, DONATELLO^^

"But...how could Mike have possibly known...?"

^^THE DETAILS OF LUCINDRA'S THOUGHTS, ALTHOUGH VAGUE, ARE WRITTEN IN THE END OF THE
JOURNAL ENTRY. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO FORWARD TO--^^

"No." Don said quickly, feeling a little guilty that he wasn't yet ready to move on. "I understand. Mike was always good at picking up on thought patterns when he really tried. He probably got a glimpse of what she was seeing and just sort of made the rest up."

He glanced toward Michaelangelo, at the curious wide eyes that were still peering through the window.

"Please, Chet. Continue."

The scene started up again.

Raphael could feel Lucindra's body growing limp beneath his hands. It seemed as though she was deep in thought, almost oblivious to what he was doing. He moved closer to her, his chest plate brushing lightly against her back. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered into her ear.

"Does that feel good?"

The gentle breeze was warm and reassuring. It blew past her as she walked, tangling her hair. She moaned in response. The fresh air was indeed soothing.

Raphael rolled his hands up her back, kneading the muscles before sliding his fingers back down again. Her body continued to relax under his caress. Her responsiveness intrigued him. He'd never touched a woman so intimately before, and she seemed to be enjoying it.

Encouraged, he applied pressure to her lower back, his hands moving with slow precision. Lucindra was lost in the healing feel of his touch. She was a million miles away, in a world all her own.

As his rough, reptilian fingers slid over the smoothness of her human skin, and the soft material of the silky robe, Raphael could feel the heat rising inside of him. He stared at her intently, shocked by the intensity of the feelings that were running through him. Something felt different. He wanted something...he wanted it bad. He stopped his hands for a moment, realizing they were trembling slightly. His heart was pounding. Why was this happening to him? It frightened him a little, yet he didn't want to stop. His breathing heavy, his groin aching, he tried to ignore it, and continued with the massage.

His hands went back up to her shoulders, and down her arms, moving with an aching slowness and precision, working each muscle until it completely relaxed.

She was sitting in the grass, her feet dangling in the lake. Tingles of pleasure prickled her skin as the water's warmth filled her. The breeze was growing stronger, but it too was warm, like the soothing heat of a person's breath.

Trying to control the peculiar intensity of these all too familiar feelings, Raphael ran his fingers very lightly up her arms again, and when he got up to her shoulders, he gripped them firmly, and began to knead them with the heels of his palms. She let out another moan of pleasure, and before he knew what he was doing, his mouth was touching the soft skin under her jaw.

He pulled up his head and glanced at her quickly. His heart was beating harder than ever before. She made no protest. Swallowing, he lowered his lips to her skin again, kissing it gently as the heat between his legs rose to an unbearable point. Gently, he ran his tongue over the flesh of her neck, his hands moving slowly over her shoulders. Although the tension in her body had faded, he could feel her beginning to respond, and he worried for an instant that she might disapprove.

On the contrary, still lost in a trance, she tilted her head to the side, inviting him to continue. Breathing raggedly, he dragged his lower lip down the newly exposed flesh, stopping only when he met with the fabric of her robe. He rose his eyes to stare at her, and could see she was still out of it. He was unsure if he should continue. She was still dazed from the effects of the poison, and he didn't want to force himself on her. Yet, it wasn't as if she was unconscious for pete's sake! She could have stopped him at any time. Deciding to trust his reasoning, he laid his hand at the base of her neck and gently brushed the material from her shoulder.

Eagerly, he lowered his face to the golden brown skin, taking in the fresh smell of her soap. The scent was oddly arousing, and his head began to fill with images of what she might look like under the robe.

He glanced at her face again, unsure whether he should be doing this. But something inside of him wouldn't allow him to stop. Noticing that she still made no objection, he kissed her gently on the shoulder. The firmness of the muscles aroused him all the more. Not wishing to wake her just yet from the relaxed state, he moved his hands down her spine again, rubbing her back lightly.

The intensity, the urge was building up in him ever stronger. A moan escaped him as he nuzzled her shoulder, nibbling it delicately. He ran a hand over her hair, entangling his fingers in it.

She pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside, ready to enter the water in only her underwear. As she took a few steps into its depths, the wind began to pick up, sending ripples across it's surface.

"Lucindra" Raphael whispered desperately.

She heard someone call her name. "Raphael?"

His mouth moved up her neck with quickening pace. He slid his hands down her sides, barely feeling the curve of her body under the robe as he gripped it in his fists. He found himself wanting to rip the material from her body, to touch what was beneath.

"Raphael..."

"Lucindra..." he breathed into her hair. "We need eachother. I know you feel it..."

She was starting to stir. He kissed her cheek and her neck, and he could feel her shiver.

The lake became animated around her. The ripples in the water were increasing, and small waves began to form on the surface. The heat began to intensify, yet it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead it was assuasive, almost soothing.

Raphael pulled the robe down a little bit further, exposing a small area of her back. His craving intensified as he kissed it.

The water was swirling and leaping all around her. She thought she would be swallowed whole, until she heard his voice again.

"Lucindra...I've been waiting for this for a long time."

Suddenly, the lake and the grass disappeared and only blackness remained. She sat motionless for a moment and let the dizzyness pass before opening her eyes. Consciousness was returning rapidly. She could feel his mouth on her, trailing across the back of her shoulder, his hands gripping her sides, searching.

It felt good, yet an alarm began to go off in her head. What was he doing? Swallowing, she tried to ignore the discomfort that was starting to rise in her.

"Raphael...what--"

"Shhh..." He continued to kiss her tenderly, his warm breath tousseling her hair.

She was fully awake now, and could see that Raphael had begun to undress her. She felt instantly embarassed and uneasy.

"Raff...wait." She pulled away from him, and rose from the bed, still slightly dizzy from the poison. She recovered her exposed skin with the robe, and turned to face him.

"What?" He stared at her blankly. "What's wrong?"

"Raff, I...can't."

"I don't understand."

For the first time since she'd met him, she felt uncomfortable and insecure in his presence.

"Lucindra..." That dark hint of guilt in his eyes as he stared at her made her uneasy. "I don't--did I do something wrong?"

She didn't know what to say. She didn't want this, she never had. Yet, it had felt so right, and that's what scared her. "I...no. It's me. I just...I think of you more like a homeboy than anything, Raff, and I don't--I just can't." She looked at him for a long moment, as if coming to a decision. "Jesus, Raff, you're just a kid."

Raphael sunk to his knees on the bed and stared up at her in silence. He was still breathing heavily, but most of the moment's intensity had already begun to fade.

In a flash of embarassment, Donatello realized that he too was having some difficulty catching his breath.

"But you said you felt it." he said softly. "I thought you wanted--"

"I don't." She said quickly. "I mean, I think maybe part of me did for a while, but then I realized..."

Raphael lowered his head and stared down at the soft red bedspread. He tried not to think about the dissapointment, the anger at himself that was rising inside.

"Raff?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't look at her. Guilt and shame and animosity wouldn't allow it.

"Raff, check it. You know you're important to me. We had some kickin' times. And you know we're on the same level. That's why I can't--"

Raphael kept his sight on the comforter and bit his lip. The shame and sadness in his eyes almost made Lucindra change her mind.

"Raff, my family needs me right now, and yours needs you. You're one happening turtle, kay? But I can't get involved right now. Raphael, I'm sorry, I--"

She moved toward him, but he rose from the bed quickly and turned away. "No" he mumbled. "No, you're right. I should have never--I mean, I'm a freak. I'm great for sparring with, but why would you ever--"

"Check it, Raff, it's not like that, and you know it."

"Yeah..." Deep down, he really did, but right now his hurt pride was the only thing that was real to him.

"You'll always be my homeshell, Raph." She gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to face her, but his eyes seemed to be looking through her rather than at her. "Goodbye, Lucindra." he said softly. "Until we next meet." But he knew he would probably never see her again.

Donatello watched, helpless as Raphael moved toward the window and stepped out into the warm night air. Michaelangelo was nowhere to be found, and that was probably lucky for him at the moment.

("I followed him all the way home.") Mike's voice echoed sadly. ("He never once looked back.")

As the image of his brother slowly made its way back to the lair, Donatello couldn't help but feel badly for him. It was one of the few times he'd ever seen Raphael so openly wounded.

("I thought I should tell Splinter or maybe Leonardo, but I decided that it was none of my business. Raphael needed to deal with this on his own, and it wouldn't be fair to invade his privacy. I had done enough of that already.")

Fresh tears on Raphael's green cheek, and a hand closing over a small round medallion were the last things Donatello saw before the scene faded to blackness.




The dialogue between the characters and most of the events depicted in the "wrench" scene and the Raph/Leo fight scene were taken from Mirage Studios' "Raphael Special #1" and the "Return to New York" series, respectively.
Flashback dialogue between Donatello and Raphael, and Leonardo and Raphael in the Lucindra scenes was taken from Mirage's Issue #44, written by Rick Arthur, and the brief recap told by Donatello was created by events that were also taken from that issue. Raphael's first meeting with Lucindra and the aftermath of her leaving the lair are solely my ideas, and I do not claim that either of these scenes were intended or thought up by Rick Arthur.

The rest of the dialogue, action and plot, along with the ideas for this story were created by and are copyright of Dawn M. Coll, 1999.

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, above mentioned comics, and all characters depicted are © of Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, 1984. Lucindra is © of Rick Arthur.



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