Trouble Twelve

I know it has been a very long time since I have updated any of my fanfiction and for that I apologise, I never realised how well liked my stories really were.  But thanks to all the kind words of support and encouragement I am pleased to announce that I am back and hoping to continue writing fanfiction and who knows, maybe one day I’ll finish this story.  Enjoy.



Trouble Twelve



New York glistened under a thick blanket of snow, smothering most of the city’s noise and almost cleansing its sins.  Raphael could scarcely feel the withering cold as he repeatedly slammed his fists hard into the remorseless brick wall.  His knuckles had long ago started to crack and bleed as the wall bit into his hands tearing at his flesh.


What was wrong with Leonardo?  Why wouldn’t his pig-headed prick of a brother listen?  Was he too wrapped up in his warped sense of self-importance and his damned honor to care?  He didn’t always have all the answers!  Was his honor really worth that much to him, worth self-sacrifice, the sacrifice of everything, at the expense of his own family, their lives, and the lives of their friends for Christ’s sake?  Why and for what?  One stinking lying bitch, who had to make her own troubles everyone else’s problem?  “Screw honor!” He growled into the chilled night.


Raphael pounded the wall again, refusing to acknowledge the pain that ached in his hands.  Exhausted he slumped to the alley floor, a sigh escaped him and made it’s misty way up into the darkness.  Why was this woman so important to Leo?  He said himself he never wanted anything more to do with her, so why go back on his words now and with so much at stake?  It was as if she had some mysterious hold over his brother, something that threatened to tear the family apart.  This had to stop and it seemed to Raphael that he was the only one left to stop it.  Sure, the lying witch had already cast her ‘spell’ on his brothers but he wasn’t as easily fooled!  He let his mind drift as his hands slowly throbbed back into life, gingerly he flexed his hands as he inspected the damage, warm blood trickled down his burning fingers, landing softly in the crimson peppered snow.  Ignoring the intense stinging Raphael placed his hands in the bitter snow.  He looked up at the night sky as a new flurry of snow started to settle.  This was the one time that he couldn’t risk losing it and barging into the situation blinded by rage, that would take all of his self control what little he had of it anyway. 


Leo lingered beside the door for a few moments longer, the idea of leaving Carrie and the baby on their own didn’t sit well with him, but what choice did he have?  After all, the hospital was the best place for them and he didn’t wish to push his luck by remaining here any longer then need be.  They were safe here and his protection had come to an end, had it not?  Leonardo was surprised with the emptiness that this thought left him with; adjusting his hat he made his way down the corridor towards the pausing at the nursery window before leaving.   Venturing into the icy night air he noticed the blizzard that had begun to whip through the streets obscuring his view, pulling his tattered coat tighter around himself, he clung onto his hat and pushed forward.  Suddenly he collided hard with a long dark coated man, stumbling towards the hospital entrance.  They locked eyes and glared at each other for a few seconds before the man strode off in the direction of the hospital reception desk.  Leo relaxed a little as he allowed the shadows of night to envelope him; slowly he slid into the drivers seat and grasped the steering wheel.  Where would he go?  He certainly didn’t feel in the mood for going home, not yet.  He needed to go somewhere, somewhere to think, somewhere to clear his mind.


Jon stood by the reception desk, hoping to catch the attention of the nurse behind, after several minutes she looked up at him over the rims of her half moon spectacles.  “May I help you?”

“Yeah,” Jon droned, “Do you have a Carrie Ryan here?”

“Yes, and you are?” asked the nurse, looking suitably unimpressed.

“I’m er her, what I am, I mean, I’m her, a relative.” Jon finally decided upon.

“I’m afraid you’ve missed visiting hours, furthermore, it is against hospital policy to allow any one to visit outside this time.  After all if we let one in we’d be having allsorts of people coming in off the streets claiming to be someone’s relative now, wouldn’t we?”  The nurse stared at Jon for a long time; he was just debating whether or not to threaten her with bodily harm, when a delirious drunk staggered into the reception area, distracting the nurse.  As she left the desk Jon seized the moment to slip unnoticed into the maze of stark white passageways.  What seemed like hours passed, wending his way down the corridors, each much the same as the last, when he finally came upon the maternity unit.  Jon had to duck into a cleaning closet to avoid being spotted by the many midwives going about their business.  Peeking through a crack in the door he checked that the coast was clear, before he snuck away, checking the names on each door as he went.


Michaelangelo sat quietly in Splinters room as the heavy scent of incense floated over him, filling him with the warm sensation of passed childhood years. Dreamily Splinter lit several large candles bathing the room in a comforting glow, before turning to face his youngest son.  “Do you have anything you wish to discuss my son?”  Michaelangelo shifted awkwardly under Splinter’s watchful eye, he kept his eyes cast downwards, not wishing to meet his master’s gaze.  “My son?”  Splinter encouraged gently.

“No, well, I’m not sure.”  Michaelangelo said quietly.  God why did he always feel like he was about to land himself in trouble?

Splinter made a low ‘hmm’ sound before sitting down; he thoughtfully rubbed his chin.  “Nothing you say shall leave the confines of this room my son.”

“Master,” Michaelangelo sighed, looking up at Splinter “How do you tell if a person is good?”  Splinter said nothing, instead choosing to watch his son, Michaelangelo decided to continue, if not to fill the silence of the room.  “I mean really good, in their hearts, even though they have done bad things in their life or chosen to walk the wrong paths?”

“Good and bad are rarely so easily distinguished my son, not everything is black and white, there are many shades of grey.”  Splinter paused, not really understanding where his son’s line of question was really going.  “Everything is this life must exist in a balance, no-one can be solely evil, just as no-one may be entirely good.”

“There is good and bad in all things.”  Michaelangelo mused on a lesson from his past.  “But what if you believe that someone, is good, deep down.  Yet they appear bad on the surface and what, what if this person needs help, but no one will help them because they think they’re bad?  What would be the right thing to do Master, follow what I believe in or go against all that I have been taught?”

Splinter lent against his walking stick and stared intently at his son, how Michaelangelo hated that look.  “That my son is a question you have to consider alone, only you know the answer.”

Michaelangelo left the room and quietly slid the rice paper door closed.  What use was that?  If he already knew the answer he wouldn’t have asked Splinter in the first place.  He threw himself onto the sofa, snatching the remote form the table he switched the telly vision on; maybe Physic Sandra had the answer.


The door creaked slowly open, causing Carrie to stir slightly, she had to admit it, Leo was dedicated to a fault.  “Hello Carrie, pleased to see me?”  Carrie sprang up in bed, flinching as a sharp pain snaked across her postoperative scar. 

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